Saw one of you other answers and lowkey toy recs would be super helpfulâ€ïžâ€ïž
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sure !!!! the sites i usually use is pinkcherry and adam & eve. u can find other sites too iâm sure if you browse â or go to sex shops in person but iâm too shy for that eheh.
iâll list a few of my personal favs !
â show me the bunny vibe (10/10 you WILL squirt. itâs rechargacble, waterproof, and itâs pink like itâs a yes from me)
â magic wand ( this is expensive but i think it depends where u get it from. itâs veeeery good, 10/10)
â fantasy for her love thrust-her vibe in purple (i think this toy changed my life. itâs so good, also expensive but very worth it. ALSO IT LITERALLY WARMS UP INSIDE YOU ??? and has like different modes you can switch to. 20000/10)
â creature cocks mystique unicorn silicone dildo (iâm picky with dildos but this one âïžhell yeah. i like calling it a monster dildo mainly bc of the way itâs shaped heheh. very bumpy, itâs SOOOO. 9/10)
â key to pleasure micro wand (this lil vibrator is supa cute !!! it was the first vibe iâve bought. itâs cheap, tiny n real easy to use. itâs a great toy to try out if youâre new to toys, and it comes with a remote control 10/10)
â eveâs clit tickling rabbit vibe (thiiiis toy gives u such toe curling orgasms. its silicone, super soft n smooth and specifically focused on g-spot / other erogenous spots. itâs also rechargeable and comes with a cord âïž. 8/10 because mine broke mid climax and i was devastated)
Synopsis. You, heir to the throne and fated to be married off to a royal youâve never even met. Gojo Satoru, your personal knight and the one man that will not let this happen. He will not.
A/N. What happens when ya let a girl listen to Golden Brown by The StrangIers.
âYou are not to speak, you are not to look.â The king intertwines his decadently ringed fingers on his lap, the royal signet glinting pointedly amongst them. âYou are not to so much as breathe in the princessâs way from tomorrow onwards.â
And itâs only with his hard-earned years as your knight that Gojo stops himself from shuddering where he knelt, head bowing to hide the clench in his jaw.
Though, surely something must have flashed across his features - because the next few words have a familiar warmth that twisted Gojoâs heart much more than his royal timbre, âSatoru, my boy, you understand that this is your duty? Yes?â
âI understand.â The answer is instant, as is the raise of the other manâs brows.Â
âAnd do you understand that this marriage is my daughterâs duty?â Your father barks out a disbelieving laugh into the barren throne room. âWe wouldnât want Prince Naoya getting the wrong idea between the princess and a- a knight.âÂ
The words make his eyes prick wetly, and Gojo canât help but bend even lower as he whispers. âIâŠI understand, sir.â
After all, it was the second thing that Gojo Satoru had drilled into his mind from the very moment he first met you.
The first being that heâs loved you ever since.Â
Which - retrospectively speaking - mightâve been an incredibly bold declaration coming from the scrawny, fidgeting six-year-old you happened to catch sneaking in and stealing lilac blooms from the royal garden all those years ago.
He remembers how youâd giggled, looking positively like a little blossom in all those gauzy layers of gown. Piping up from under the lilac tree he was latched onto, âMy father says thatâs not allowed.â
Gojo had fallen then - literally, startling about six feet from the branch heâd been straddling and straight into a scratchy pile of leaves with a dull thud! Back hurting, head spinning, it was a wonder that he hadnât sprained anything, but right then and there he remembers thinking he was in heaven.
Because here was a pretty lilâ angel his age ogling down at him, speaking in a regal accent so different from his. âMy father says thatâs not allowed either.â
Your grin beamed down on him and warmed his skin even more scorchingly than the balmy rays of sunlight filtering in through the leaves. And for the first time ever in his life, Gojo Satoru had stuttered.Â
âYer- yer father sounds stupid.â He had spit out, chubby cheeks puffing out the more you stared at him. What? He was sure he looked ridiculous with all those stray sticks and leaves stuck in his cloudy locks, but did you really have to look at him likeâŠthat?Â
âMy fatherâŠâ Your lips curled even further, as if you knew something he didnât. â-the king.â
Oh.
Oh.Â
And itâs only then that Gojo notices the thin, silver tiara on your head, a delicate wreath of jeweled flowers that twinkled almost as bright as your eyes. It reflected specks of light into his gaze almost mockingly.
Idiot- it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over him that chilled him to the very bone.Â
Even at the tender- well, wise and sensible age of six, Gojo had heard from the adults in town all about the torture chambers and p-prisons that the royal palace was home to.Â
Just why did he feel the need to escape from his mother at the market to bring her a batch of those wispy, amethyst flowers anyway?Â
Sure, they were her favorite but- the royal family would have his head before even she did. And he didnât even get to butter her up with the lilacs!
âForgive me!â Gojo had squeaked out in a cry so shrill that you hurriedly took a step back, eyes widening once the interesting boy in front of you dropped to his hands and knees. âAh- I mean uh- forgive me, your highness- your princessness.â Drooping into a bow so low that his soft tufts of hair brushed the warm ground. Words tumbling out a mile a minute, âIt was an accident- I mustâve been um sleepwalking and I pinky-promise wonât do it again-â
âThose lilacs havenât bloomed yet, yâknow?â Youâre cutting him off smoothly, and Gojo remembers feeling a pang of irritation- let him recite his apologies before you throw him in a cell, dammit! Right before flooding with confusion, eyes snapping up to meet yours hesitantly.Â
Pointing at a pretty white gazebo, overlooking the lake only a few meters away, youâd shrugged your shoulders. âThe garden staff puts the best ones in a bouquet over there.â
At which, heâd replied with an exceptionally eloquent, âHuh?â
âWell, what my father doesnât know wonât hurt him.â
Itâs only after hours upon hours of picking every lilac flower in sight and chatting about all the worldly topics a pair of six-year-olds knew that you were dragged away by one of your worried attendants.Â
And he almost feltâŠsad about it. Weird.Â
The yolky setting sun that day cast shadows for Gojo to hide himself in behind one of the gazebo pillars as he peeked at your retreating back. In-step with an older woman muttering about âlosing her job oh- the king will banish her.âÂ
And if there was one thing that he would never forget - well, amongst everything else - it was the way his heart banged selfishly against his ribcage with a repeated turn around turn around turn around-
You did. And youâd smiled, and Gojo hasnât been able to step away from your side since.
Well, he had to - to go home that evening and proudly proclaim to his thoroughly cross mother how heâll become a knight, that is.Â
Honestly, even the colossal lilac bouquet did little to deter her scoldings about running off. But despite how bad it was - and the fact that he was sentenced to be confined to his room for a whole month - it didnât matter.
Gojo visited you the next day, too.Â
And the day after that, and the day after that- and again and again no matter how many times youâd teased him about coming so often to see you. Because you were right there no matter what royal duties or lessons dictated, waiting in the lilac garden for him.Â
Every day.
When Gojo was eighteen heâd applied for a position in the royal guard, breezing through the demonstrations of physical strength because of course, he did. Heâd been training for his very day for years.
And it showed - oh, how it showed.Â
It showed in the way he stood almost a head above every other man lined up there, veering numerous inches above six feet. All sculptured, Herculean muscles and arms toned from years spent climbing the palace orchards with you. The strongest.Â
He considered himself exceedingly humble, too, of course.Â
Humble enough to not brag outright in your face once Gojo had climbed the treacherous way into being your personal knight before the age of twenty.Â
âHah, I can tell your father- erm, his majesty all about where you sneak off to now.â Gojo snickered, flicking your forehead in a way that a princess simply shouldnât be treated. âPerhaps Iâll bargain titles with him- tell the courts about the way you climb trees, and ride horses and-â
âSnitchâ
âHarlot.â
âKnave.â
âHobgoblin.â
âSatoru.â Youâd deadpanned up at as six foot four inches of white-haired nuisance clinging onto whimpers out a dramatic ouch, that one hurt. Desperately trying to keep the smile off of your face, âYouâre with me each and every single time.â
Well, was.Â
It seemed like the king was to be putting a stop to that very, very soon. With your looming- he gulps to keep the leaden ball of tears away from his throat, your engagement.Â
âToruââ Your voice snaps him out of his hazy little reverie, and he finds himself straightening his back into a respectful posture outside of the throne room. Warily eyeing the way you bound up to him, âWhat did my father want to talk to you about so suddenly?â
âAhâŠâ Gojoâs throat feels hoarse. Parched. The smile plastering onto his face wobbly, âJust- just security measures for the visitor weâre going to have, your royal highness.â
Your brows quirk upwards, pretty lips falling open just enough for him to realize you were about to comment on his use of that. That title.Â
âNow if you pardon this knight, maâam-â Gojo pipes up before you can bludgeon him with questions, striding down the luxurious hallway to his newly-assigned post at the royal treasury. Far, far away from your chambers. â-I have been called by Knight Commander Yaga to my-â
âSatoru- wait.â
He shouldâve known better than to have thought he could escape you - not when even his own heart didnât want to.
Lurching up in an almost-nauseating swoop the moment your voice echoes from behind, hitting his glinting armor. âYouâŠare you okayâ? You havenât called me any of those silly formal titles since we first met.â Words practically dripping with concern, fuck- he was sure your face was furrowing. And if it was up to him he would kiss away every tense crevice.Â
But no, that was not his place.Â
His place was to stand rooted to the spot, face turning only a half-degree to grace you with a soft bow. Gojo knew it wasnât the epitome of respect, but a singular look in your face right now and he would break.
âI am in perfect condition to carry out my duties, maâam.â Heâs nodding, voice oh-so-brittle in his throat for how hardened it thundered.
âThatâs not what I mean.â Stubborn.
Gojo turns back to the winding corridor in front of him, âThen if that is all, I shall be on my way. I hope you have a good day, maâam.â
âSatoru.â
And if his cheeks were cold and encrusted with a few streaks of salty tears when he reached the treasury, Gojo was only grateful that his fellow knight Ijichi was too afraid of him to say anything.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was avoiding you - marching the other way if he glimpsed you, running around the palace for menial tasks, he wasnât even your personal guard anymore, for goodnessâ sake! Your best friend was ignoring you and you werenât sure why.Â
Was it because you had to skip out on your daily walks in the lilac garden to greet the visiting Zenin royals?Â
No, he was always so understanding of the royal responsibilities that you couldnât skive off. Besides, his strange attitude had sparked up even before Prince Naoya and his family arrived at your kingdom - ever since that meeting with your father.
You were dying to ask the king what exactly was talked about that day, a meeting so confidential that he didnât even have the royal advisor transcripting it. But your father was always so busy with the older Zenin couple these days, cooped up in office rooms surrounded to the brim with official documents.Â
And that left you withâŠhim.
Naoya Zenin. A prince if there was ever any, who couldnât talk about anything but that.Â
âSoâŠum.â Your eyes dart around the palace gardens, you always did love it here - that comforting smell of flowers wafting in clouds around you. But right now you felt anything but comforted. âHow are you liking the garden, Prince Naoya?â
He shakes his brown-tipped locks, eyes narrowing. âRather plebian for a royal palace, if I do say so myself.â
âR-rightâŠâ Youâre sputtering in an unlady-like fashion, âWe do have orchards too if you wanted to-â
âOf course, the gardens in my palace are much bigger-â Heâs waving a gloved hand loftily, nose crinkling into a sneer at the bustling gardeners planting beautiful white blossoms everywhere. Honestly, you were informed there was a grand ball soon - but wasnât this a bit much? âAnd we teach the help to stay out of sight.â
âBoth.âYou fight the urge to just storm off then and there - it wouldnât do good to start a war between the two most powerful kingdoms right now.Â
âAh yes yes- nice.â Naoya repeats airily, words warbling as if he was biting back a laugh. âSuppose the low-borns are tolerable if theyâre nice.â
A vision of Gojo - tiny and trembling into a bow in front of you - flashed through your mind, and you find your pretty heels digging hard into the dark soil. That was it.
âPerhaps.â Your voice comes out dangerously even, dangerously. Naoya only raises his brows in faint interest, âYet, even the least tolerable tch- âlow-bornâ would be more tolerable than a pompous, arrogant-â
âThere you are, your highnesses!âÂ
Satoru.Â
You would recognize that low, lilting baritone amongst a thousand others. And before you can turn around to face your best friend that had been missing for days, he plows on, âA little gift- from this lowborn.â
Thud!
Before you can even blink, pale hands reach out to unceremoniously dump a radiant yellow flower crown on Naoyaâs blond bangs. And you swear Gojo pushed down on his head harder than necessary.
The first thing you register is the warm wall of muscles pushing up against your back, lecherously counting every ladder of washboard abs and Gojoâs plush pecs in your mind. Mindlessly, youâre leaning back even closer, savoring the way his breath hitches. Harlot.Â
The second thing youâre realizing is that Naoya Zenin - for the first time in twenty-something years - had gone quiet. Very, very quiet. Suspiciously so.Â
You force your words into some semblance of levelness, âAre youâŠare you alright, Prince Naoya?â
But Naoya didnât speak - you didnât know if he was even breathing. Long face growing greyer and greyer by the second, he doesnât answer you.
No, instead heâs pointing a trembling finger behind you. âYou thereâŠyou- what shrub have you placed upon my royal head?â
âLaburnum.â Comes the answer - and just as soon comes a drawling, strangled squawk.
Your first instinct is to look towards the shimmering lake not too far away from you, eyes searching for any trace of those familiar ducks- before gasping in surprise and looking back to the prince. Mouth ajar, still making those undignified noises.Â
Him?Â
âYou- you will-â He hisses, so furious that you have to take a step back - right into Gojoâs waiting arms - to avoid his flecks of spit. â-you will pay for this.â
In only a split-second, Naoya had thrown the flower crown onto the ground and wheezed his way up the flowery pathway back to the castle. What a sight it was.
But nothing compared to the way that Gojo comes into your line of sight and preens. One hand tapping at his cheek in thought, the other held behind his back. âWhoops- I forgot that the king specifically informed me that our honored guest was allergic to laburnum flowers. Guess, low-borns arenât of good memory. Right, my princess?â
âSatoru- you- you ass.â Youâre yelping through fits of laughter, not caring for the way the rest of the gardening staff smiles knowingly. âWhat if that bastard gets deathly sick? The blame would be on you.â
He rolls his summer blue eyes, âProudly.â
âI should send you to the gallows for this.â
Gasping in faux shock, âMost salacious indeed!â
And for the first time in so long, it feels normal.Â
The breezing heat of Gojoâs body against yours feels normal, and you couldnât bring yourself to think too deeply about it. Too enchanted by the sheer lack of armor - all billowy white poet shirt and flattering cotton pants.Â
âY-yeah well-â Shit- why was your skin burning this way? The sun wasnât even at peak temperature for today. Absentmindedly, youâre playing with one of his silk lapels, âThank goodness weâre losing him in a few days, I asked mother and she said the Zeninâs are only visiting until the fast-approaching ball.âÂ
âPrincess-â It all comes out in a rush, â-that ball. The reason for it is actually-â
âYour highness! The queen is asking for a conference with you!â The curious voices of your maidservants drag you away from Gojoâs arms, into a much less scandalous position.
And yet, with only a nod behind - you still stay standing in front of him. You stay.
âRightâŠâ Gojoâs prominent Adamâs apple bobs as he takes a deep gulp. Shadowy gaze darting away, âI should get back to my duties, maâam. Suguru has been abusing his position as head gardener to work me like a mule.â
The way your face crumples with disappointment makes Gojoâs heart feel sliced open. And raw. âOf course. Iâll see you around, Gojo.â
Gojo. Gojo.Â
And of course he couldnât let you walk away - of course he couldnât let you leave his life just yet.Â
So without thinking, without even realizing, heâs clasping a slender hand around your wrist to pull you back. To reel you in. To him.Â
Velvety strands of snow-white curtain Gojoâs eyes, and the doughy fingerpads on your skin shiver. Mumbling, âBefore- Before you go, my prin- maâam. I just wanted to give you-â And you donât know what makes your heart race more - the cherry-red blush painting all over Gojoâs cheeks and up to the very tips of his ears, or the sunny flower crown clasped in a hand pulled from behind his back. â-this.â
Your mouth drops into an awe-struck oh! It was beautiful - trickling blossoms of every shade of yellow entwined gently together. Embedded with celestially dainty buds of an amber so pale it looked almost white, diamonds on a tiara fit for a princess.Â
You had a feeling it would be your favorite one. Â
All you could think of was Gojo with his staggering hands, and his battle-worn fingers, making something so delicate for you.Â
âIsâŠis this one just as allergy-inducing as the other, Satoru?â Youâre breathing, rustled by a breeze so gentle that it almost hurts. Â
âNo.â Gojo whispers, just as quiet. As if the slightest sign of a raised voice would break whatever saccharinely thick moment this was, âYellow acacia and yellow carnation. For you, my princess.â
For the way heâd be losing you just as soon as he loses that asshat.Â
And even once youâd adorned his crown and been hurried off by a few palace staff, Gojo stared. Even once you were nothing but a speck of royal satin and yellow crowns, he stared. Even once you were gone, and he was left so very alone, he stared.Â
Only thanking the heavens above that you always slept through your flower language lessons.Â
.
.
.
Over the next few days; wherever you were, Naoya Zenin was to follow.Â
And Gojo was sure that it was pushing the young royal closer and closer to a spectacular aneurysm any time that you called specifically for him to accompany you. Blatantly refusing any other knight that came your way.
It was more like you spent your time trying to make his dutiful façade crack than supposedly entertaining your guest.
Sneaky princess.Â
After all - Gojo found himself pacing and arguing out loud with himself any time you did - he was simply doing his job, right? Even if the aforementioned job went against just a few direct orders from the king himself.Â
But these were a direct order from the princess. His princess. And Gojo had stopped his procedural traversing and ranting since realizing this.Â
Although- the head chef, Nanamiâs, veiled threat about turning him into pig feed the next time he heard stomping may have played a slight part in this, as well.Â
And it was on such a day that Gojo found himself stationed to guard the inside of the royal drawing room. Spine ramrod straight, eyes flooded with steel while he took in the sight of you and that bastard- Naoya sketching the other in silence.Â
It was a dainty, sunlit room, and the hours might have almost been peaceful - if it wasnât for the split-haired bastard, that is.Â
After that flower fiasco and a thorough telling off for misremembering the princeâs allergies, this was meant to make up for a âbonding activityâ according to the king; which to him read more like a desperate attempt to push the two of you together before the grand ball tomorrow night.Â
Gojoâs chest caves in with a sudden spike of pain, tomorrow night. Your engagement ball, where you will surely be handed off to a man who wouldnât be worthy of you in a thousand different lives.Â
Fuck, had it really been days since already?
It hurt too much, and so he looks towards the princeâs parchment- how insulting. Hundreds of royal art lessons, yet Naoya still couldnât capture the exact curve of your smile. And those pretty crinkles by your eyes- they were entirely the wrong number! And Gojoâs sure that any fool could see the way your lips-
He was getting ahead of himself. And reminded embarrassingly of the hundreds of sketches of you over the years stowed away underneath his bed alongside a stubby piece of charcoal.Â
And he was leaning over the prince in a way that he was sure would get him strung and quartered in the Zenin palace. Or, at least, thatâs what Naoyaâs daggered glare was telling him.Â
With a sheepish smirk, Gojo snatches a glimpse at your artwork. Stifling a laugh at the way youâve given up on drawing the other man and started engaging in idle scribblings of weasels and hollies.Â
âThat one looks like him, donât you think?â He canât help but whisper from the corner of his mouth, stomach swooping in delight as soon as your eyes light up.Â
Tacking on a familiar hairstyle and sneer onto a particularly shoddy caricature of one of the weasels, giggling. âHe does.â
Gojo points at another drawing - this time of a bullfrog- honestly, what interests for a princess. âAnd thatâs-â
âThat Jinichi.â Youâre finishing off for him, carelessly drawing away a few more - quite frankly, Gojo finds everything you do beautiful, but these were appallingly ugly - scribbles of foxes and goats. âThat oneâs Oji Zenin, and thatâs Gakuganji and thatâs-â
âAhem.â
There was only one person who could make the clearing of a throat sound so snobbish. And that was Naoya Zenin.Â
Brows raised, feet tapping impatiently on polished marble as he snatches the parchment from your grip.Â
Schwingâ!
âToru- no.âÂ
Gojo doesnât even realize heâs pulling out his famed, silver sword until youâre stopping him with a hand to his tense bicep. Shit.
Growling through clenched teeth once more at Naoya while he nestles it back into its scabbard with unsteady fingers - only because you asked.Â
But the other man doesnât even flinch - wearing that perfect mask of regal stoicity, though Gojo manages to catch the way his eyes flicker nervously down at the hilt of his sword. Doesnât show anything other than the tightening of his thin lips as he gazes upon your humorous drawings.Â
The impatient tap! tap! tap! of his feet slowing down, stopping - before Naoya throws your paper down onto the floor and stomps. Gojo wouldâve almost found it comedic if it hadnât been for your startled demeanour.
âExcuse me-â Heâs hissing, angling his broad body between you and this unseemly sight. Gojo looks dead-on into Naoyaâs spit-fire red face, â-but I would have to hope not to remind a young prince of royal etiquette.â
âExcuse me, sir.â
âNo need to call me âsirâ, your highness.â
Naoya looks up, death in his eyes.
Gojo thought this might be the end. The missed trip to the dungeons all those years ago was finally catching up to him, and he would be thrown in today for drawing his weapon on a royal but goddammit- if he wasnât going to keep you safe from his ire for as long as he breathes and then some.
But - to both you and Gojoâs surprise, and perhaps even Naoya himself - he simply turns swiftly on his heels and walks out of the room. Letting the heavy double-doors SLAM! deafeningly behind him.Â
It takes a beat. One. Two.Â
He counts every raging ba-dumpâ! of his heart against this ribcage- before the terse silence shatters with laughter.Â
âToru- To- Satoruâ!â Youâre wiping away genuine tears, ââNo need to call me sir-â where did you even come up with that-â
âFuck! You can laugh but I thought I was headed to the gallows.â Heâs exclaiming, and it was quite difficult to act as if your laugh wasnât the most beautiful thing heâd heard in his entire life. âAlthough- it would have been a killer last line. Wouldnât it, my princess?â
The two of you stare at each other for one singular ba-dumpâ! Before bursting into peels of undignified cackles that could make an entire court shiver in scandal.Â
âKiller- killer alright-â Youâre rolling your watery eyes, âThis is just as bad as the time you caught Yaga in his interpretive rain dance routine- I thought you were surely dead then.â
Please, Gojoâs stomach and his heart were hurting - though, for very different reasons. âNot as bad as when you wanted to play dress-up with the sacred royal crown and lost it.â
âDonât remind me, my father was-â Thatâs when your tear-lathered lashes flutter, a hand coming up to swat softly against your cheek as if to jolt back your senses. Youâre groaning over Gojoâs whine, â-my father. Oh no! What will he say about this?â You almost knock your cushy stool over with how fast youâre teetering into a stand, âI must go apologize to weasel- Naoya right away lest relations with the Zenins-â
âLet me.â
Your brows raise, âWhat?â
âLet me.â Gojoâs repeating, more firmly this time. Thumb grazing briefly down your knuckles as he pulls you back into your seat.Â
Just for a split-second - like he couldnât even think of letting himself touch such a precious treasure.Â
He knows you will argue this, he knows your stupidly selfless self will fight to apologize; which is why before you can say a word, heâs marching hastily out of those same doors and towards the luxurious guest chambers.Â
Truthfully, Gojo Satoru didnât give a fuck about Naoya Zenin - but heâll be damned if you, his beloved, was cast in a hameful light because of his childish actions.Â
He has to do something for you, while he still can. While he still has you. While he can still love you.
The corridors are winding, decadent. He takes a deep breath when nearing the slightly-open gilded door of the Zenin suite, that distinctly nasally tone of Naoya drifting in conversation from within. Shuddering in a deep breath, âPardon m-â
â-drew me as a weasel!â The prince bursts, fury seeping into every hard syllable of his. Gojo stills where he stands outside, hand on the cool metallic doorknob. âI have never met such a vulgar, unrefined-â
âOh, do bear it until the engagement Naoya.â The gruff voice of a man responds - and he recognizes it from all the recent chiding at palace staff to be the princeâs cousin, Jinichi Zenin. âAfter that ya can take your time breaking âer in.â
What?Â
âA boor telling me to break in a wench.â The younger man scoffs, though he sounds much calmer than just moments before.Â
Gojo thinks he could throw up all over the gleaming floors, he thinks he wants to keel over and beg at the kingâs feet to keep this from happening to you. He thinks he just might.Â
But right now, he canât bring his feet to move a single inch. Pressing himself up closer against the adjacent patterned wall, sharp ear yearning for more shards of the conversation.Â
âTheyâre all the same anyways.â Says Jinichi, âJust give âer something sparkly or flowery and keep her sated. Donât want another one running off before you can dig your claws into the crown, now, do we?â
Gojo doesnât think he could move even if he wanted to - and right now, ice-cold spikes of anger were the only thing latching him rooted to the spot, not even flinching once Naoya closes the door behind him and walks- seeing him.Â
His jaw clenches, eyes harrowing. âYou.âÂ
And Naoya had very clearly taken the opportunity to arm himself in his family chamber, because his spindly fingers itch towards the hilt of his dangerously glinting sword. Just seconds away from-
âPlease.âÂ
Gojo drops onto one knee, the tendons of his neck aching with how far downwards he had it bent into a pitiful bow. âI ask his highness to please let the princess go- to call off this impending engagement. I- I will bear the brunt of committing an offense, and will gladly take any punishment that is bestowed upon me. I just please beg of you to-â
âThe same hand.â
âWhat?â Gojo forces himself to look up with tear-filled eyes, to face the prince squarely in his chestnut gaze. His delighted chestnut gaze.Â
Pointing towards his right hand, âThe same hand you were to raise your sword at me, the same hand you used to put that wretched toxic flower crown on me-â And then his blade, â-I order you to repent.â
The other man breathes, âRepentâŠâ
âRepent.â Naoya stands up taller, perhaps the most self-confident that Gojo has ever seen him. A barbarous curl of his lips starting to form, âRepent, and I shall consider ending my engagement with the princ-â
CRUNCH!
Pain. Blinding pain was all that Gojo could feel, andâŠrelief.Â
He couldnât even register the steady trickle of warm crimson on his skin and onto the floor in rose-like splotches - even though he could see it through bleary eyes. Head still spinning to catch up with the nanosecond events of drawing his sword and slicing a wide gash down his forearm.Â
Through half-lidded eyes, he puts back his bloodied blade into the scabbard and looks up at the stricken prince.Â
Repentance.Â
âSo you love her.â Is all that Naoya hisses. And Gojo canât lie, nor can he muddy your name.Â
So he simply waits quietly, silence speaking enough for eons. Waiting for you to be set free. And if he tried, he could even manage a smile-
Sniffing insolently - though, it sounded more like a snicker. âHow valiant, for a low-born.â All that is said before he spits furiously at Gojoâs feet and breezes past in a swish of capes - as if nothing ever happened. âI might even invite you to the princess and Iâs wedding ceremony.â
.
.
.
In a palace of thousands, it was only Gojo Satoru that could manage to stand out.Â
None of the royal jesters could make the court laugh quite as loud. None of the other knights - no matter how muscled, or chivalrous - could make the ladies-in-waiting swoon just as much. And none of the other reputable men could make you seek him out in every chamber, state room, or training ground just like this. Â
It was strange not to see even the barest glimpse of Gojo for an entire day, and the palace didnât quite feel like a home without him.
âIâm telling you, Nobaraââ Youâre wheezing out in condensed puffs as your eager right-hand attendant continues mercilessly tightening away the undergarments of your ballgown. âSomethingâs probably happened to him or-â
â-or heâs being locked up for offending some uppity duke.â Sheâs rolling her honeypool eyes, one of the few who wasnât afraid to express themselves this way in front of you. Flitting about the opulent dressing room you rarely liked to use, âYou know how that eugh- Gojo is.â
âWhich is precisely why Iâm worried.â
Honestly, you didnât even care for a grand ball when you didnât know where your best friend was. Whether he was in the dungeons orâŠworse.Â
But Nobara wasnât here to hear you ramble about Gojo Satoru - you oftentimes got the impression that he irritated her too much for her own liking - she was here to doll you up in costly pale blue silks and muslins that draped off of you prettier than a painting.Â
And you felt dizzy by the time she let you be escorted off towards the emanating music of the ballroom - with an excited goodbye and a reluctant promise to keep an eye out for Gojo.Â
Hair done more intricately than you couldâve even imagined, your jewelry caught every light in the room, a bejeweled flower tiara weighing heavily on your head. Adorning your face in a crown that reminded you of the one Gojo had made you only a few days ago.Â
It was almost a struggle to keep your face held high as you took the first few steps down the winding imperial staircase. To the ball.Â
You have to stop yourself from tilting your head down at the thrumming masses of decadently dressed-up nobles and clinking champagne to check whether Gojo was hidden away somewhere down there.Â
Manners. Posture. Eye contact.Â
It was all painfully practised, and so was the tightening of your features as your own father started reading off your introduction. He never took on this task - what was happening?
âAnd now, for the most important guest of all-â Booming voice thundering in your ears almost as loud as your heartbeat was. The king addresses the congregation in the middle of the dancefloor, more ruler than father at this point. â-my daughter, princess of our beloved kingdom. And the queen of the next!â
Your hand stills where it had been helping you balance in your heels down the stairway- what?
Thankfully, your father carries on - or rather, not thankfully, considering what his next words are.Â
âYes, my people, this may come as a surprise to you all.â He chuckles above the deafening murmurs, and you slowly find yourself scurrying onto the raised platform your fatherâs throne was seated on. âBut tonight is not only a simple celebration of our nation, itâs a celebration of love. Of two nations.â
Thereâs a beat of silence as he reaches out a withered hand to you, and you find yourself wordlessly taking it.Â
âF-father, what-â you whisper, but thereâs no response. Your skin bristles with goosebumps, and youâre not sure whether itâs from the summer breeze wafting from the gardens, or from the speechâs implications.
Letting yourself be pulled right into the middle of the stage,right into the spotlight - where Naoya Zenin was waiting for you. Dressed in his finest suit of white silk, adorned with layers upon layers of military accolades and velvety medals.Â
The bright, blazing light of the chandelier was scorching, and your hands clench in unease. What was happening?
âThat is right, my people.â The king drags your hand up to mesh in an entwinement with Naoyaâs clammy ones, holding it up for the eager public to see. âAfter much consideration and forethought, our royal families have decided that today my daughter is the beloved princess of our nation. But tomorrow, she will be the future queen of the Zenin kingdom.â
Thereâs cheering - but you canât hear any of it. In fact, the entire world could be falling upon you and you donât think you would have noticed.Â
All you can feel is the queasy churning of your stomach, and the stern whisper of Naoyaâs voice against your ear. Fingers tightening around your own, bruisingly. âDance with me before I break this pretty hand, princess.â
Youâre like a ragdoll, being puppeteered in a rigid beeline onto the dance floor.Â
âLooking pretty out of it there, princess.â The prince sneers after a few practised motions of your dance, making your dazed eyes stray from the swooning crowd and onto his pointed features.Â
And despite it all, you canât help but feel betrayed. You thought that the two of you might have rapport at your obligation, if nothing else. âYou- you didnât even tell me. An entire engagement and you didnât even bother to-â
âAs a husband, I donât owe my tch- wife anything.â His nose crinkles at your wandering eyes, the way your feet itched ever-closer to the surrounding people rather than the dancefloor. âWishing it was someone else dancing with you?â
âYes.â Youâre spitting out before you can stop, trying oh-so-hard not to let your face twist into even a semblance of the fury steeped inside of you. âAnyone but a husband that I never wanted and never will want.â
âAs if you deserve any bett-â
Your nails dig into one set of his fingers enough to engrave deep craters, almost enough to make him bleed. âI wouldnât marry you if you were the last man on Earth.âÂ
Naoya seems stunned for a few seconds - but, alas, just when youâre hoping that youâve shut him up for good, youâre faced with the fact that the universe isnât that kind to you.
âYou mean you would marry the tch- low-born.â He pulls you into an incredibly rough twirl when the music crescendos, pulling you even closer. Itâs all you can do to not fight his grip- âIâm not below finishing off his other hand if thatâs what it takes to break you.â
âWhat are you even talking about?â
Each word jagged. âThe knight. You love him, donât act stupid.âÂ
Raising your chin in defiance, âSo what?â And just as much as confusion filled you, as did panic. Because Naoyaâs grip was only getting firmer, his moves much harsher. Opening his mouth to spit out-Â
âPardon me, your highnesses.â A deep bass cuts in, startled- you almost give yourself whiplash peering up into those fathomless mahogany eyes. Yagaâs thin brows furrowing into something heavily-set, âMay I cut in for a dance with the princess?â
You donât wait for an answer from Naoya - and neither does Commander Yaga. Swiftly sweeping you into his engulfing embrace as the orchestra changes into something slightly more upbeat.Â
Dressed in a thick suit adorned with even more medals than Naoya - ones you knew for sure were real, unlike his. And you couldnât help but wonder just how good Gojo would look with his own.
âSoâŠâ Yaga starts, once more couples join the floor and his words canât be heard over the shuffling of feet by anyone other than you. His calloused hands let you lead him through a waltz much more mellow than what Naoya had with you. You always did think that the leader of your knights was a gentle giant. âBegging you to forgive my indiscretion, maâam but ah- trouble in paradise?â
âTrouble in hell, as expected.â Youâre shuddering, gaze bouncing off of any flash of sapphire blue around the room.Â
The man in front of you nods gravely, âRight right. I might not be a married man, but even I know that times like these often call for a walk in the lilac garden. You know, to- ah, clear your head.â
Quirking a brow, you stare at him. âWhat?â
And oh, Yaga simply looked like all the gold in the world couldnât pay him enough for this.Â
âTimes like these-â Heâs emphasizing, boring deeply into your eyes as if to mean every syllable to strike your very core. And it does. You donât know why, but it does. â-call for a walk in the lilac garden.â
Oh.
âOh.âÂ
Yagaâs lips twitch upwards into an almost-smile, and his rumbling voice is soft for the next few words. âGo, your highness.â
So you do.
Youâre realizing, with an ache of such gentle appreciation, that the commander had danced you two until you were practically teetering on the massive veranda. Open to the garden; where every prim hedge, bush, and tree was gorgeously decorated until your eyes sparkled.Â
Your breath batesâŠa choice. Head turning back to the luxuries of a royal ball that was none-the-wiser.Â
Then, with a brief hug you bully Yaga into, you run - as much as the delicate heels digging into your feet would allow. Faster.Â
If this was any other time, you mightâve felt disappointed at how you werenât even stopping to admire the beauty of the moonlight-bathed garden. But right now, your heart was only pounding to go faster and faster.Â
Nothing else mattered.Â
Gojo was leaning on one pillar of the same white gazebo - and he was beautiful. If you didnât know any better, you would have thought he was a faerie of the night.Â
Just a lone, tall silhouette that you could recognize so well; azure eyes twinkling, ivory strands of his hair shimmering with the silvery blue of the moon swimming amongst a dark sky. One he couldnât seem to take his eyes off of until he jolts his head towards the sharp snap! of a twig underneath your rapid feet.
âMyâŠmy princess.â He falls onto one knee.Â
It all comes out in a whisper - as if Gojo had dreamed of this moment so many repeated times before and wasnât sure if this was a dream, too.
âSatoru-!â
It wasnât.
Gojo stands up to embrace you like itâd be the last time he ever would, like you were the one thing connecting him to this life and he was a dying man desperate to breathe.Â
Strong arms winding around your waist, youâre pushed against one of the closed-off walls of the gazebo before you can even realize it. Arching off of the cool wooden surface and into his blistering heat. Into every ravenous, panted-out cloud of breath against your ear, âYou came.â
He sounded pained. And you were sure you did just as much when youâre whimpering, âYou disappeared.â
Gojo lets off a choked-up noise that couldâve been anything from affirmation to blatant shock. Half-lidded eyes boring deeply into yours, he shrugs off the jacket on his non-dominant arm to you with a low bow.Â
âMay I have this dance, my princess?â
Youâre gasping at the sight of starchy white bandages around his other hand, fingers hesitantly falling into Gojoâs heated flesh. âS-Satoru, what happened ah-â
But he drifts you gently into a soundless dance, the distant crickets and swish! of lilac branches your only tune.Â
And you never even understood just how much Gojo was a part of your life until he was moving through the exact same steps of waltzing that youâd learned growing up. The exact same once that you used to force him to sit through.
âI thought you were here because you read my letter.â Gojo mutters, lips so close now that they grazed the sensitive shell of your ear.Â
Youâre having trouble finding your voice, âWhat letter?âÂ
âThe- the one that I left-â Just for you. His long lashes flutter open in shock, features contorted into something almost devastated. You wonder what made him feel this way. â-the one that I left in your chambers- about the- the prince, and the engagement and-â
âI got prepared for the ball in the dressing room today, I didnât go to my room.â Youâre continuing, voice small. Scared. âSatoruâŠyou knew about the engagement?â
And Gojoâs voice told you everything you needed to know.
You feel your angry flare up hot and red, fists curling into Gojoâs delicate lapels. But that only proves to inch him even closer and make you sound much more breathless than you intended, âYou knew about it and- and you didnât even think to give me a hint that I was being carted off like a prize for some pompous asshat?â
He looked like he didnât know whether to laugh or cry, lips still so pink in the night, wobbling. âIâŠI couldnât let you be married, I just couldnât. I would give my life if it meant you get the freedom to choose who you wanted.â Your dance had stalled, and you almost feel disappointed. âBut Iâm a coward, and this-â Gojo throws his hands across, voice hitching, â-sneaking around, hiding, running away is the only way I could ever-â
âYou should have told me. Not just in the letter.â Youâre insisting, running your hands through your hair. Suddenly, something strikes you, âThat arm- itâs because of Naoya, isnât it?â
He doesnât even have the energy to protest, and that only spurs you on even more. âI-I could have talked to my father- maybe the council and we could have made it so thatâŠâ
âSo that what?â Gojoâs voice hardens as much as it could with you, which wasnât very much at all. His fists clench and unclench at his sides like it was taking everything in him to not justâŠâSo that you can be the laughingstock of the kingdom when you marry a low-born knight?â
He was right. They would never accept him, no matter how much you did.
Youâre rendered speechless, shivering at the way he rubs his wet eyes with the back of his hand. âOh, I donât want you- I need you.â And he was so beautiful like this, just centimeters away from you in the escape of the night. âI need you. I need you, I need you- I need you more than the sun above my head, and the air that I breathe, my princess. You have bewitched me, and I am yours. But you cannot be mine-â
You breathe out, âSatoruâŠâ
â-and maybe in another life-â
âMaybe in this one.â
Soft hands rover their way onto the sides of your arms, and Gojo shakes you feebly as if to snap you out of this hypnosis and urge you to run. Eyes wide, yearning. âI have always been yours, body and soul.â
You always have wondered whether there was a method to shut Gojo Satoru up. And, right now, you think you may have found the perfect answer.Â
Because his entire towering figure just melts into your touch the very second you press your lips onto Gojoâs plump ones. Soft. Velvety.Â
His nostrils flare through a breathy sigh when you tilt your head mere sultry degrees to deepen the kiss. You were addicted to the honey-coated taste of him, the flat drag of his scratchy tastebuds rolling over your loosening maw.Â
âNgh- my princessâŠâ Heâs puncturing your kisses with kiss after sloppy kiss, heavy hands wrapping around your body to wrangle you flush against his hardened ones. And you could count every glissade of his washboard abs through that thin poetâs blouse, âI love you.â
Youâre not sure if itâs a fragment of your imagination, or- itâs not.Â
Gojo manhandles you - and himself - to sit on the opulent gazebo bench with you plopped into his manspread lap, without breaking the kiss for a split-second. Because it hurt to part from your pretty, candied lips, to let those slippery strings of saliva break in the clouded air between you two.
Even if it was to purr outâ
âI love you I love you I love you-â The straight edges of his pearly white teeth sinking into your lower lip, groaning from the back of his throat. And your jittery legs shift needily on his warm, meaty thighs, â-I love you.â
âSatoruââ Just about the only thing that you can say right about now, your tone resounds in Gojoâs ears and makes him grunt. Your fingers tangle into his cushy locks, âT-touch me.â
He snickers, one hand clawing onto the crown of your sweat-dampened scalp and wrenching your face away until youâre huffing and puffing cutely for more. âMmm, how about we use those princess-y manners of yours, hm?â
âPlease-â
âLouder.â
âPlease.â
âHarlot.â Gojo slides in a looong few digits past those impossibly endless skirts of yours, making your thighs dampen with treacly webs of needy slick. Letting those doughy fingerpads fringe over the covered mound of your pussy, just the very edges. âThat was my f-first kiss, yâknow?â
He had been hopelessly saving it for you, after all.Â
Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your weighted lids as soon as he teases you, mewling. âWas mine too, so weâre even-â Your hips shift in a lazy back nâ forth on top of his heated core, â-just- just want you to touch me.â
âI dunnoâŠâ Gojo drawls - drunken. And you feel the edges of his kiss-bitten lips warp around the very tip of your plummy tongue to suck on like his favorite gummy candy, âWanna kiss my princess just a lilâ bit more.â
Panting, âK-kiss?â
âMhm.âÂ
Your eyes shutter in a heady blink, oh-so-cutely ready to crash back into a filthy, filthy French kiss once more, Gojo pulls away-
A noise of disappointment fresh on your lips and just about to spill out, before he lifts you up easily with only a single beefy hand underneath your body. Splaying you out on the sprawling wooden table right beside you, your back hits the ice-cold surface and makes you gasp into the crisp night air.
The lecherous sound of it almost as loud as the sudden clack! of Gojoâs knees collapsing down onto the floor. Your face contorts into a wince because surely it sent a stinging pain up his legs?
âMâquite used to being on my knees for you, my princess.â
But he didnât seem to care - didnât even seem to notice when he was much more enamored with the heavenly sight down there.
âThese lips-â He smears away your lacy layers upon layers, budging up to nuzzle the soft skin of your inner thighs. And shit- the filmy glaze over his eyes told you that Gojo doesnât even realize the way his bubblegum pink tongue lolls out over the splotchy spatters of your juices. â-were tellinâ me they feel a littleâŠleft out.â
Your mouth waters with a syrupy lamination of saliva as soon as his murked breath strikes your cunt. And the drag of his rumbling bass is so delicious â you couldnât help but imagine just how it would feel on you.
âJust- just get it on with it-â youâre hissing, fingers latching onto a few thick locks of ivory to drudge him ever-closer.Â
âImpatient.â
As if Gojo himself wasnât impatient.Â
As if he wasnât just leaking out thick wads of drool from the parted sides of his twisted grin at just the thought of tasting you. Sliding the pointed tip of his button nose languidly up the crevice of your puffed-up slit, he breathes you in and feels his cock twitch-
âOh, princess.â Gojo canât move, he canât breathe if it wasnât around your needy cunt right now. Heâs ignoring those shooting bites of pain up the sides of his arm to tug on your useless garments.
Pulling- shit, he always did fucking hate how many layers you royalty had to wear.Â
Pulling and pulling until the slow trawl of your undergarments by his nimble fingers wasnât enough, and he just had to lunge his cottony head over to plummet his pearly whites into your panties and ripâ!
A proper, gaping hole where your teary pussy was- and you looked even more gorgeous down there than he couldâve imagined.
Gojoâs face was blank, eyes wide and locked right at your geysering orifice like a man starved. For eons it felt like, until you were bucking up with pure need.
Youâre humming in concern, struggling up onto your elbows to stare down at him. âSaâŠToru?â
And at your pretty voice, Gojo twitches. He gasps - full-bodied, like youâd just sent a zillion volts of shock down his sloped spine just by speaking to him. And he was well and fully intent on acting on it-
âPrincessâŠprincess princess princessââ Leaking from between his lips like he couldnât stop, he hits the cute target of your cunt instantaneously with a fat thud of spittle, one. Two. Three, until your entrance was overflooding. Heâs drawling the plummy end of his spit-glossed maw across your folds, âOh, my princess. Just look at you.â
You feel his mess drool off the side of your plumpened pussylips and smear all across your peaked clit with only a simple touch of Gojoâs round-ended thumb.Â
Just down-right filthy when he crashes forward to slot the curvaceous nub of his sweltering hot tongue over the brim of your hole. Drawing all over that snug orifice with slow patterns round nâ round-
âToruâ!â Itâs the only thing you know at this point. âToru.â
âWhaaat? Jealous, my princess?â The words clang in your head- and the realization hits you at the same moment Gojoâs thickly viscous swab of spit does on your own tongue. A soft nudge at your slackened chin urging you to swallow-
And he canât waste a second, canât spend even a mere moment away from his favorite spot between your legs. Because now that Gojo got a taste, he wants alllll of it.
Stumbling back down in haste to plant so many uncountable smooches on your bawling pussy folds. Skimming his tastebuds just along your quivering hole.
âShit- shiiiitââ When youâd heard court ladies giggling about this, you didnât think it would feel this good. Or maybe thatâs just because it was Gojo stuffing himself impossibly deeper between your legs. âM-more, Toruââ
Your voice was cracking just as much as his fucking sanity was.Â
Trilling out into frenzied shrills when Gojo swerves his eager thumb to pry open your gluey folds even further and give your fattened clit a flick!
You swear you feel Gojo depart his jaw with a giggle when your hips are bucking up pliably off the splintered table and into the bustling hot cavern of his mouth. More. âEasy there, your royal highness-â
âD-donât call me thatââ Youâre whimpering, fingers tugging on Gojoâs bangs in some form of retaliation. But, of course it backfires on you just as soon as the force makes your knight moan.
âWasnât calling you that.â Gojo rolls his eyes, and your heart races in anticipation when the pointed edge of his chin strikes the drowned ends of your cunt. Lathering his pretty features in all the collective beads of slick raining fountaining out of you. His summer blue eyes flick downwards - and you canât help but follow. âWas talking to her. Isnât that right?â
Fuck.
You were fucked.Â
And you were losing your mind when Gojo drags you roughly towards the edge of the table with only an ounce of his strength. Mouth making out greedily, heels digging into the fleshy mounds of his back, you can only sob and beg for more more more-
âHope the- the king doesnât find his princess beinâ eaten out by- ngh- a knight.â Barrelling long, slender inches of his index and pointer past your tight ring of mushy muscle.Â
Your head throws back when he digs into the velvety depths of your pussy with just a single quirk-
âO-oh my god, Satoruââ Youâre gasping in the flowery night air, tummy aching with every pump deeper because he was just so close to where you wanted him. âMore- j-just a bit more.â
And yet, he acts like he doesnât even hear you right now.Â
Cupping over one massive palm over his ear and drifting ever-closer, âWhaâs that? C-canât hear ya, girl- ngh ya gotta be- louder.â
Louder and louder he was getting with the vulgarly fast thrust graced upon your gummy walls. The sound only makes him giggle all drunk on you, âWhatâs that? Here? That turn you on? HmmmâŠâ
And just when youâre letting your vision blur with stars- just when you think it couldnât get any better-
âMmmmâ wanâ another taste-âÂ
Itâs the last thing your ringing ears hear before Gojoâs lurching forwards and burying his nose into your sensitive clit to give your overstuffed entrance a leeengthy lick. Right at the very split-second the globular edges of his digits scratch at that magical spot.Â
âW-woah.â Your head snaps up blearily to steal a glimpse at what had Gojo Satoruâs voice so airy nâ cracking in awe.Â
Only to see him fluttering his lathered lashes, the slick-gleaming apples of his cheeks blushing. Like some maiden in love. âGot even wetter fâme, your highness.â Heâs breathing out, spitting out another voluminous cobweb of drivel and watching the way it sliiides across with the ribbons of slick pouring out of you. âOhhhh, even b-better than any candy- better than a-any dessert.â Â
You yelp when one rugged and grabs a rough handful of your ass and latches his lips even sloppier against your hole. âT-Toru your arm!â
âOh? This?â Heâs glancing down at the bandages as if heâd forgotten they were ever there. âSânothing for your- hah- personal knight. Doesnât even hurt, Iâd- Iâd rather die than let a stupid injury get in the way of what Iâve been dreaming of for aaaages.â
The dual points of pleasure make your toes curl, every part of your body shaking-
Gojo was out of control now. Crazed.
High-pitched bouts of giggles escaping him, muffling around where his candy-glazed cerise lips were latched around your clit and sucking. He makes sure to hold fatal eye contact while he hollows out his scorching cheeks and drags the fleshy nub.Â
 âM-making out with your pussy- your pretty, pretty pussy, my princess.â Your heartbeat echoes in rapid staccato with the vicious thud! thud! thud! of his neatly crowned fingertips pecking your g-spot. Each of his puffed-out gruffs making your tongue loosen in a please, âMaking you s-so loud, making you feel so good.â
And without even realizing it, heâs rovering the papping brims of his fingers to give your clit a spank. Letting the syrupy beads slide allll the way down his tongue - letting you watch.Â
âSâall me.â Gojo slurs out. âMe- me me me meââ Steady rivulets of slick bubbling from the edges of his tongue when his sinful motions get faster. Harder. âGonna ask who m-made you feel this way nâ itâs me. Your Satoru.â
More ravenous.Â
Swirling around slow probes of his sensory tips, it glazes his skin all the way down to his knobbly wrist in a thick coat of sap. Memorizing every gooey ridge and crevice inside your tight channel - shit, Gojo feels his ruddied tip spurt out a jetstream of buttery pre in his pants.Â
He thinks he might just burst in his pants if you donât finish right this second.Â
But luckily - or unluckily - for him, you do. Right this very second, after being wrung dry underneath only a few more lapping slashes of his ferocious tongue, tweaking your buttony clit until you cum.
And oh, youâre so pretty when you do.
Your head throwing back with a broken moan of Toruâ! It takes every ounce of trained will in his drunken body to not break off from your gooey pussy and watch the way your beautiful face twists.Â
Fucked out.
âO-oh, shitââ Youâre practically sobbing at this point, wrist aching with just how hard you were pushing Gojoâs readily used face into your fluttering core. Your vision blurs with sparks nâ stars, â-H-how are you so good. Unfair, unfairââ
Babbling away such nonsense with that smart mouth of yours, Gojo thinks he sees utter heaven when your hot juices flood inside his mouth in generous heaps.
Lugging down an open palm underneath his chin to greedily collect the leaking beads that sprinkly in a shiny sheen off of his chin, he finds himself moaning. âShhh, your knightâs here. Give it tâmeâ use me, my princess.â
And use him you were.Â
Riding out each white-hot peak of your high with slobbering grinds all across Gojoâs beautiful features. Your clit catches on the poking ridges of his mouth and nose and you squeal- âNgh- b-better when youâre shut up like th-this, Satoruââ
Just for that, heâs spanking your goopy pussy thoroughly.Â
All the way until those shots of electricity down your bowed spine are nothing more but prickly tingles, all the way until your thundering ears calm down and you can hear each damp thwack!
All the way until your high has bated and yet, Gojo is still snogging each swollen fold of your pussy like a feast. âMâsensitiveââ You sniffle, and he doesnât even seem to hear you. âFuh-fuck, Toru, keep doing that nâ mânot gonna let you ngh fuck me.âÂ
Thatâs what finally gets his attention.Â
You can feel your lips burst with a slight giggle when all it takes is a quick nanosecond for Gojoâs plumpened mouth to jerk away from your cunt with the snap! of wiry slick.
Scrambling onto unsteady feet, heâs teetering over the edge of the wood ever-so-slightly. Muscular body casting a shadow on yours, and you think heâs never looked sexier.
Fawny strands of frosty white curtaining Gojoâs half-lidded eyes, thick thighs pressing against yours shivering; and even from your position homed towards the end of the table, your eyes catch sight of such a massively outlined bulge.Â
Staggering.Â
One that made your hands ghost down Gojoâs tensed abs, and heâs throwing his perspiration-dampened head with a whine.Â
âNeed you, Satoruââ Youâre managing out, strangled and messy. Youâre sure you sound just as yearning as you feel. Fingers tug-tug-tugging impatiently on his gauzy clothes, âWant- you- out of these-âÂ
And whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.Â
Itâs as if on command - Gojoâs shedding his billowy shirt like it burned him. And very, very soon were his snug pants to follow, your layers, his sanity-
âHngh- please.â Heâs gruffing out, flinching just as soon as you cup his cheeks to smear away the remaining traces of slick glimmering on top of his blushing skin. Your touch was electric. Tonality painfully hoarse, âLet me fuck you- wanted it for so long. Let me fuck you please.â
Your drenched pussylips stream out a damp spot right across where you could feel his inflated vein poke between your folds. And he felt soâŠlong. âYes- yes, please.â
Getting the princess to say please?
Heâs nodding his head shakily - Gojo could pass out, he could cu-Â
Oh, just a few taps of his mushroom tip on the outer edges of your pussy and he spots something creamy topping over your mound like icing. Sweat-slicked brows furrowing, Gojo nudges in even closer to where pooling splotches of cum pours from the strawberry pink divot right in the middle of his head.
Heâs cumming and he couldnât stop.Â
Couldnât do anything but whine at the tender bolts of bliss aching all the way from his toes to his fuzzy head.
âS-Satoru did you just-â
âShut up.â Oh, you would have his head later for this. âShut up- shut up and justâŠâ
Nâ so he curls a hand at his bulky base and draws out a thick swab at the torrents of seed decorating your cute cunt. Making sure the milky sap formulated a glossy cap on his crownhead, before pushing rigorously in-
âF-f-fuuuuckââ he keens out, a thin line of sweat trekking down the side of his temples. And if he pushed just an inch further, Gojo could feel his hooded eyes well up with fucking tears- âTight so tight s-sooo hot- soâŠâ
Youâre mewling, âDeeper- c-câmon.â
He was fucking you like he didnât even realize it - like he was enchanted by each mindless rut pulled from the carnal depths of his hips.Â
Two warm hands latch on in a vice-like grip on the delicious curve of your hips, and heâs holding your body still and pushing and pushing and pushing-
âSh-shit!â Gojoâs voice pitches up embarrassingly high at the end of his slew of swears, buttering up your insides in a muggy few ribbons of pre in response. âBut s-so tight- dunno if itâll evenâŠeven fit.â
He sounded hypnotized.Â
âAre you- ngh! are you alright, Satoru?â Youâre musing out, eyes glassy with a solid combination of lust and utter concern. Before you know it, your hand is reaching out to stroke the ba-dumpâ! thudding against his pecs.
âNo.â
And it takes only the slightest graze of your doughy fingerpads against his flaming hot skin, the slightest touch from you before Gojo rudely swats your hand away and bottoms out-
You donât even know what you were mad at- were you mad?
You really canât even remember. Not when the crowned tip of Gojoâs incredible length was planting a sweet peck right into the sponged ends of your cervix, the entirety of his shaft spearheading you so deep that you think he might just be fucking into your lungs.Â
So big that he didnât even have to try to rub the puffy zig-zag of his veins along your sweetest spots, even the most minute gyrations made your toes curl.Â
Splitting you apart. Stroking the weepy base of your slit with the hot, rounded sack of his breeder balls so right that it made you putty in his hands.
âDonât t-touch me, my princess.â Gojoâs nuzzling his tear-stuck cheek against your own, you could feel the warble of his unsteady confessions. âDonât touch me or IâllâŠIâll cum.â
And when has Gojo Satoru ever lied to you? Well, the upturned jolt of his split-ended tip right into the target of your mushy cervix told you that he wasnât.
Gojoâs sinking down the edges of his teeth into his wobbly lower lip, heâs forcing his eyes to narrow down nâ obscure his crystal clear image of you to stop himself from cumming.Â
âSo beautiful, canât help itââ His breath hitches once heâs pushing apart your trembly thighs and stretching them over the two ends of his broad shoulders. Your ankles pitching down onto the rippling plush of his toned deltoids. âSo perfect.â
âS-sweet-talker.â You whisper, mouth as dry as the Sahara with how his thick circumference was stretching out your rubbery walls until they were seering.Â
But if Gojo heard then he didnât snap back - he was too pussydrunken to.
Moving on instinct, on that carnal twinge inside his brain that forced his powerful limbs to lock your ankles with one hand behind his head. To brace an engulfing palm right beside your head and lower himself down, down, down into a-
A mating press.Â
Gojo Satoru had you in a fucking mating press.
âSo mine.â
And he was pounding all his aching inches into you like it would be the last time. Like he was mazing through your adhesive-like walls and plummeting the leaky end of his cock to knock against your very womb.Â
Gojoâs nose crinkles at the sheer warmth you were coating him in, dripping fresh slathers of slick in rings âround his hilt. He shivers as it drools down his tight balls, âIâmâŠIâm really fucking you- ngh! Iâm fucking you, my princess.â
âYes- yes yes yesââ Your mouth parts ajar, and you donât know what it floods more with - your pathetic whines, or saliva. Coating a treacly river from each curl of your lips, âMore. More, Toru.â
Oh.
You might have just broken him with that.Â
Even through your fucked-out stupor, youâre gaping at the way that the hand beside your head curls into an unyielding fist. It has to.
Otherwise, Gojoâs plump cockhead would be sugarcoating your sloppy hole in much more than just copious amounts of sticky precum. He wouldâve cum.
âM-more?â You hear from above you, your knightâs bulging pecs vibrating with the plea. Oh, was it a plea - strained, shaking. Gojo sounded as if he was two seconds away from simply bursting into crazed laughter, âMoreâŠmore. My princess wants- fuck! More?â
Fat ends of his fingers lock around the sides of your cheeks and force you into such an unladylike pout. âSay it- say it, little royal.â
âShit!â Your core arches up into his hardened one, just as Gojo knew it would when angling his hips juuust right to give your bulging g-spot a long, hard swipe. Your throbbing clit scratching against his pale happy trail. âYes- ngh yes I want more. Want more, Satoru!â
More.Â
And more was exactly what you were going to get. More than you could handle.
Your thighs ache with the struggle to stay open when Gojo tightens his lock around your ankles. Gruffing out a tight, âTake it then.â
He was so sexy, the swelling flex of his biceps enough to make your pussy drool and him slip nâ slide pliantly. Jackhammering away rugged pumps that you feel all the way in your leaden throat.
Your most favorite spots are so bruised that theyâre almost tender, curling the base of your spine with tendrils of bliss that make you yelp.
âO-ohhh my godââ The side of his neck dampens as youâre leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that make the man pinning you down shiver. His sculpted abs twinging with every massage down your front, âJust like that, a-always wanted to fuck you, Toruââ
âDo you even hear yourself?â Gojo hiccups, the expression upon his features plain pained. Voice dipping into a whine, âDonât know what y-youâre doing tâme.â
But now that you were babbling away, you couldnât stop. Not even when heâs speeding up his vigorous cadence until the globes of your ass are left stinging, âMâseriousâ I always wanted-â
âShut up shut up- shut up- my princess.â You donât think that either of you were even lucid at this point, and every pap! of skin-on-skin is followed by the screeching creak of the table below you. Gojo rolls his eyes down at you fondly, âGotta m-make you cum so you can shut up.â
Otherwise you were going to drive him wild until thereâs no turning back.
Before you can let off a moan - or fervently agree - he thumbs over the perked hood of your clit. Drawing- circles? Hearts? No, his own name.Â
A tedious little S-A-T-O-R-U that makes your gushing walls clench oh-so-tightly around his sweltering length. Tummy tightening into something so close to shattering.Â
And Gojo was rough. Snickering at the way you whine, spilling out wadded volumes of spittle between your parted lips. He breathes, âGonna make you cum- g-gonna make my princess cum.â You swear he nods down at your pussy and grins, âG-gotta be a good girl fâme, mâkay? Gonna be a good- girl- andâŠâ
His hips slap sloppily against yours, overworked thumb stuttering on a swooping U over your sensitive nub. And the tension in the air pulls tight, tight, tight like the most delicate of strings, before crashing- â-cum.â
You donât know who cums first - you or Gojo.Â
All you know is that as soon as your mind explodes with bursts of bliss - his poor cock does, as well.Â
Head toppling backwards, overfilled pussy slopping out waterfalls of sweet, sweet juices, itâs all you can do not to sob.Â
âFuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-â Your nails rake red, red lines all down his expansive back. Pulling him in even closer until all he can manage are dirty lilâ half-thrusts to pound you through your high. âMâcumming, Toru-â
âY-yeah?â Gojoâs stuttering wetly, sloppily. Pushing the fat battering of his fountaining orifice into the groove of your g-spot over nâ over nâ over. You didnât know how anything could feel so good. âNâ who made you cum, hm? Whoâs f-fucking this pretty pussy, hm?â
âYou-â Youâre prattling, âYou, Satoru.â
âFuck.â Gojo gapes in wide-eyed craze, breath hitching when you lean over to drag your tongue over the sappy trickle of drool escaping his rose-red lips. âG-gonna make me cum again, swear-â
And he does.
âCan- can we hold hands while I hck! fuck you through your high, my princess?â He bats his lashes, a delicate blush taking over the tips of Gojoâs ears when you lace your fingers together.Â
You can feel the splat! of even more heavy seed hitting the bottom of your pussy, swashing a warm second coating to your elastic walls every time Gojo thrusts. He was so solidly inside. Pinpointing specks of pure white with each swab.Â
So full. So much of his voluminous ounces that itâs taken to tipping over from between your pussylips and forming a creamy puddle below you. Youâre slipping all over it with every slither of Gojoâs cock.
But neither of you can even think to bring yourselves to be disgusted. To care for etiquette.Â
Because Gojo drifts his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and his cum- and you find yourself aching for more all over again.Â
âThis looksâŠâ Gojo starts, syllables scratchy and jagged. Heâs practically whimpering - whimpering - at the sight of that lecherous cylindrical bulge being fucked into you.Â
Youâre dripping with him, and his cock twitches ferally at the thought of you all round and glowing. What a pretty mama youâd make. â...looks like the n-next heir to the throne will be a Gojo, my princess.â
Oh, you liked the thought of that.
And looking at Gojo Satoru now - eyes still not fully focused with how ruined he was, skin blushed the same maidenly shade of red that his slobbering mushroom tip was, pretty smile directed at you and only you in this lilac-scented haze - you didnât think you wanted it any other way.
But, of course, Gojo would never want it any other way, either. Never.Â
He clears his throat, sapphire gaze hardening; the intensity of it sending chills sprinting down your spine. Burning with a fervent I love you I love you I love you.
Massive hands intertwined with yours pull into your line of vision, and Gojo takes his dear time pressing a lingering peck onto each nâ every single one of your knuckles. But particularly on the one above your left ring finger.
This was it.Â
âMy princessâŠrun away with me?â
.
.
.
âDidya hear âbout that Prince Naoya?â
âOh yes- had his bride stolen away by a knight, I hear. Put a knife to his throat nâ took her away in the dead of night!â
âHogwash! The boy was a looker, she went quite willingly, see- I always did think that Naoya wasnât good ânough for our princess.â
âWonder what happened after? That Zenin bunch was quite furious I hear, that bratty prince is still out for blood. But olâ Naobito and some commander came to the rescue- Somethinâ about corruption and JinichiâŠâ
âBah! Who cares about that? Sâthe biggest royal affair of the century- a handsome knight sweeping away the beloved princess? Theyâre swooninâ nâ calling him the Knight of Roses already. All I wanna know is how the young couple is doing!â
Yaga rolls his eyes at other rambunctious customers churning gossip-mill, a pint clutched tightly in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other.Â
Honestly, he comes to the pub for once to escape from palace duties - and the palace duties seem to want to escape with him!Â
And even after so many months since that engagement party fiasco? News really did trickle down slowly when royal scandals were so often covered.
Oh, whatever. He muses, thumb gliding over the glossy parchment- some new innovation from kingdoms beyond the sea, according to what the eagerly-accompanied writing had said. AâŠa photograph, you had called it.
And Gojoâs surprisingly intricate drawing of you fiddling with the ah- camera gave him an idea of the machinery, though- most of the sketches were of you. All of them, actually.
Yaga gazes on in slight wonderment at the perfect black and white depiction of your smile, rivalling the one of Gojo Satoruâs beside yours. Beaming, sleeves rolled up and fatigued with a day of hard work, so in love.Â
It was oh-so-positively sweet.
The cherry on top? Well, Yaga couldnât quite decide between the matching bands glinting on each of your left ring-fingers, the glimpse of a pretty lilâ cottage behind you two, and the massive bouquet of undoubtedly deep red roses Gojo was presenting you with.
Or perhaps it was the hand you were resting absent-mindedly on the obviously rounded curve of your tummy.
How fortunate, he tucks away the photograph into his coat with a smile and orders another pint. Knight of Roses, indeed.Â
A/N. Yearning is my kink mhm. Hope you have a lovely week <3
And that makes Geto shudder, breath hitching into something dangerously husky as he pushes his thick glasses further up his nose bridge. Greedy gaze darting anywhere but where you were oh-so-vulgarly leaning towards him. âTch- as if Iâd everâŠâ
With a grin, you shift to show him a flash of cherry pink peeking out from underneath that sinfully short skirt of yours.
Purposefully.Â
He was gone.Â
âF-fine.â Heâs gulping, and it wouldnât be the first time that youâd goaded the ill-tempered campus genius, Geto Suguru, into doing your- ah, âhelpingâ you with your homework. âBut-â
Before Geto can ramble away the usual lecture about something called âacademic integrityâ, youâre jumping up and tackling his towering frame into a hug. Pressing the curves of your tits into his Digimon t-shirt - just as a little treat - and flouncing excitedly back to your friends.Â
But what you didnât notice is the way that makes Geto stiffen.
His tummy lurching, nose raising into the air-Â
Oh.
You smelled so sweet.Â
Getoâs spit-slicked lips part open to steal a sharp gasp of the sweltering lecture hall air- it couldnât be. And his bleary irises canât even focus, canât lock on anything but the figure of you mere feet away.Â
âŠCould it?
With a slight tilt of your head, youâre staring back at him - and somethingâŠcarnal pangs through his suddenly-boiling veins.
Then you smirk- and Geto twitches.
Fuck.
He wouldâve crashed onto his knees right then and there if it wasnât for the way that you proceed to dig through your cute, useless bag - still in the middle of a conversation with your friends - and throw something flimsy and pale pink at him.
No shame. No regrets.
None for either of you; but especially not Geto once his strong palms reach out to urgently scramble for the shred of gauzy fabric in midair.Â
Tangling the stringy satin between thick, ringed fingerpads, heâs sinking his face into its sugarcoated scent before sinking into the realization that youâd had the audacity to throw your fucking panties at him in the middle of a bustling seminar.Â
Yet, he was even worse - jaw slackening, broad chest heaving with rasping ahs! as he drinks in loooong repeated puffs of your pheromones. Coating his brain in melty molasses of sugar and spice and you.Â
There was a reason you were the most sought-after omega on the entire campus. With your filthy skin-tight outfits, and your flirty smiles.Â
And him? He couldnât get enough.
Smearing away a sloppy splotch of saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth- when had he even started drooling? Geto watches through watery peripherals as you mouth a smug âan advanceâ at him, and saunter out of the class in your tightly-knit group.
Too tightly-knit, if you asked Geto. Dead-on stare narrowing, he catches the way one of your so-called friends brush away an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder.Â
Just barely. His head snapping towards Geto when the latter growls-
Oh.
Oh, fuck.Â
He was fucked.
.
.
.
Listen, itâs not as if you make Geto finish all of your homework - just the ones that you found too tedious, too complicated, or too time-consuming. Which might just happen to be all of them, but you digress!Â
He was more than happy to collect those slutty scraps of silk you called âpantiesâ and you were proud to keep your streak of having the second-highest GPA in class (after the man himself, of course.)
The more important the grade the more sinful the panties.Â
After all, it wasnât as if you minded all of Getoâs fiery stares at you during lectures, the spark in his eyes when he tried to drill a difficult concept into your mind, or the way his dark lashes would flutter drunkenly the moment you got too close.Â
In fact, you might even admit that youâŠlike it.
Because Geto was hot. Fuck- he was fucking pretty.
Youâd seen just how fawny his amethyst eyes were behind those clunky glasses. Lengthy Stygian hair, so many inches above six feet, and biceps that pull his gamer t-shirts so taut that it made you wonder what was underneath.
But it wasnât as if a nerd - and a beta, obviously, though you didnât care for secondary gender - like him would ever make a move.Â
Hell, he barely even talked to anyone other than the professors.Â
All grumbling and rude. It took you weeks to even get him to acknowledge your existence, and that was only by giving him an âaccidentalâ glimpse of your red, red bra strap.Â
So you were mostly fine and dandy with this lecherous transaction of yours. Geto was smart; he was never a minute late in emailing you your surely A+ worthy work before their deadlines, and youâd gift him his little treat just the day after.
Except- you were lounging on your couch as the 12:00AM deadline for your latest essay rolled around and there was still no sign of Geto. Not a single ping from your inbox.Â
With an impatient thumb, youâre idly scrolling through the sparse chat history youâd all but bullied him into sharing with you, brows furrowing deeper and deeper at your plethora of ignored texts and calls.Â
Nothing new but, seriouslyâŠ
Scoffing as the clock tick! tick! ticked! its way to 12:01AM.Â
He was late - and your homework was, too.Â
Youâd been feeling a little tooâŠfeverish tonight to attend that one party your friends had invited you to, and thank your stars for that. Because not even minutes later, you were stomping the few blocks down to Getoâs apartment building and all the way up to his white-painted front door.
âHey, Suguââ You rap your knuckles harshly on the wood, exasperated. âAre you in there?â
No answer.Â
Huffing, your heated skin stings where it clashes even harder against his door. Impatiently, âHah- making an omega walk all the way out hereâŠI should take back all those panties I gave you. Yaga deducts points for late submissions and I am not leaving until you come out.â
Still no answer. Not even a sound.Â
âIn fact, Iâll only get louder.â
Not even a breath.Â
That wasâŠstrange. He shouldâve at least come out to shut up your racket so that he can study, if not at the mention of your panties.Â
And right now your annoyance was being washed away with sharp waves of concern, a nervous bout of laughter escaping you as soon as your hand falls on the door handle to find it shockingly unlocked. Oh?Â
You and Geto might not be the best of friends, but you wanted him to be alright goddammit.Â
âBetter come out and stop me now, unless you want me to barge in!â You call out, jostling the cold, metallic knob for good measure. It holds firm in your hand, the only thing grounding your swimming mind as you bask in a second of silence. Two. Three. Before sighing, âHave it your way then. Iâm coming inââ
Then it hits you.
Slow, at first. Like a smell from a distant memory that you find yourself aching for - find yourself stumbling a few steps inside Getoâs cozy apartment and devouring in generous lungfuls.Â
You slam the door shut to cloud yourself in the saturated air and gasp.
This was nothing like any expensive perfume youâd smelled before. It felt like your entire body was on fire, like every one of your pores was scorching from deep inside. Like you needed him.
Head whirling with the heady concoction of caramel salt scent and those dark undertones of wine. Something so dangerous. So tempting. SoâŠSuguru.
You jolt. He was in rut.Â
Wait, rut? Geto Suguru? Wasnât heâŠwasnât he a beta?Â
You swear he was. You didnât know what was happening, only angling your head up for more and more and more-
Shit, youâre shoving your thighs together before you know it. Already feeling the slippery stream of slick that sloshes past your pussy lips and puddles at the bottom of your underwear. And you know youâve never been wetter.Â
âA-anyone home?â Youâre straining out, the doughy mountain of your palm rubbing mindlessly up nâ down through your thin skirt.Â
Undoubtedly, thereâs still no response. And yet, itâs almost as if heâs calling to you - and maybe he is.
Feet wrenching one jerky pitch after the other, you have to balance yourself on the hallway walls to fucking keep your sanity.
And to perhaps stop your weakened knees from slipping you into a pile on the polished hardwood floors. Perhaps to stop yourself from breaking out into a run to wherever your inner luna was clawing to take you.Â
You breathe, âTh-this isnât funny, SuguruâŠâ
The soft thuds of your padded steps thunder in time with your racing heart. Louder and louder. Deafening by the time youâre catching sight of a large mahogany door at the end of the corridor that waves ever-so-slightly ajar.Â
Where those hypnotic pheromones were the most saturated. And your mouth waters.Â
Itâs only once youâre reaching it - trembling, standing stock-still, right outside what you now assumed to be his bedroom - that you realize Geto was calling to you. Well, more like he was calling out for you.Â
Your name.Â
In soft, breathy moans that make his rich baritone crack.
âGet the fuck in here.â
.
.
.
The moment Geto Suguru catches a glimpse of your oh-so-cute face - the moment he senses that youâre actually, honest-to-goodness here - he cums.Â
And he canât help it- fuck, he canât help it.
Even dabbing the fat of his massive thumb right over his bawling tip canât stop the heaping torrents of gooey white escaping from him. Such slick ribbons upon ribbons crawling their way up Getoâs washboard abs, you can only watch with bated breath as his messy, round globs of seed trickle up nâ down until they drench his dark happy trail.Â
Your watery thighs stick together, maw falling agape because youâd be lying if you said youâd never imagined this.
You had. Once or twice or many, many times.Â
All splayed out on his Digimon sheets like this; meaty thighs cracked open, silky locks slathered across every inch, glasses fogged up. Ruined. Getoâs sweat-shimmered back arches off the outdated bed springs with a creak! while his hand flew furiously up and down his swollen cock.
Shit, youâre biting your lip. Syllables jumping roughly off of your heavy tongue, âS-Suguru?â
SLAM!
Itâs like the sound of your voice does heavenly wonders to him.
Plump, tender balls squeezing, Getoâs free hand encloses behind his sweaty scalp and onto the headboard above him. Hard enough that the sturdy frame snaps, pale biceps flexing enough that you find your skin clammy with need.Â
âFuh-fuck.â Heâs hissing through clenched teeth. Staring right at your meandering form through dazed half-crescents, mouth departing endless husked grunts. And ohâŠoh a few more dewy droplets of cum spray out of his bawling orifice once you gulp. âLook what youâve done tâme.â
âY-youâre an alpha?â You finally manage to find your voice.Â
He snickers, the murky scent of the room growing ever-stronger. And even more than that was your own scent, mixing and melding until you felt dizzy. âAnd youâre in danger, little omega~â
Your widened gaze grows to lock on the way that his rugged fingers continue milking out creamy sploshes of cum. Expertly flying up, up, upâ before fisting his hefty base with an airy sigh.Â
Large. He was so large.Â
And in so many ways more than one.Â
An alpha. He was an alpha.Â
Seductively sculptured body dwarfing his single bed with what looked like miles upon miles of toned, tall muscles. Were those tattoos spying out from the sides of his back?
A syrupy geyser of sap formulates between his two legs the size of your head- this was Geto Suguru?Â
And his cock - oh, he was so perfectly massive. Oversized, even in Getoâs engulfing hand.Â
So painfully hard that he was blushing a blossoming magenta near the very tip of his globular cockhead, throbbing. Pulsing. Thick lightning bolts of veins gripping down either side of his pink shaft and all the way down to his breeder balls.
With a harrowed gasp filling your lungs, youâre spotting just the barest fringe of something soaked-through and gauzy tangled underneath his digits.Â
Fuck.Â
âIs that-â
âThis?â Geto grins - grins. Youâve never seen him smile let alone show off this dopey, predatory leer plastering all over his flushed features. A gentle dimple embeds near his curled lip, and he quirks an eager brow.Â
You can barely even think while he untwines the frilly pair of panties youâd thrown at him in class from around his aching cock. Sticky and stretched now, it finds home right near his flared nostrils as Geto brings it up and sniffs. Crazed. âCâmere.â
The rawest of glints twinkle in his half-lidded vision as you inch closer, the way you tremble on your two feet like a newborn fawn was adorable. And he canât stop himself from letting out a low whistleâ
âYeah. Good fuckinâ girl.â
Your body kneels you right by Getoâs bedside before your mind can even think to catch up. Head lolling lecherously against the wide plane of his shivering thigh, you let your tongue lap up a pearl of his buttery white cum and keen. He was even bigger up close. âSuguââ
âNuh uh, gorgeous.â Geto tuts, gravelly tonality rendering you confused just as much as you were needy. His two palms grip the crown of your head to peer upwards, âSâall because of you. You nâ those d-damn panties. Mânot your hck! nerdy fuckinâ Sugu right now. Best remember that- mâgonna make sure you remember that.â
Heâs more than gazing down at you, heâs boring right through you.Â
Spectacle frames creeping precariously down his nose bridge, tendrils of his shaggy hair almost curtaining him, pellets of sweat trickle down his temples and hit you in thin spatters. So close. And you wanted him closer.Â
âTilt your head back, lemme see that ngh- pretty mouth.â One hand slips from your head to curl around Getoâs fattened hilt, nudging his puckered tip to strike your lips with a dull thud! âCount.â
âOne-â
And itâs not once.Â
âT-two-â
Not twice.Â
âThree- hah!â
Not thrice, until heâs leaving your mouth whimpering and stinging with the slam of his rock-hard shaft slapping down your tender flesh. Leaving a slimy trail of pre and salty cum that leaks between your maw and drives you wild.Â
Then - and only then - is he wrenching you up closer. Manhandling your pliable body until the very tip of his perfectly button nose meets yours. So close.
Your teary lashes flutter halfway shut once you feel the foggy breeze of his breath scorching your face, cunt quivering with the anticipation of a kiss. His pheromones hit you in powerful gusts, your primal urges scratching up to the surface.
Closer. Too close- for a kiss that never comes.
âHeh. Cute.â
He doesnât kiss you.
But before you know it, Geto pitches his tongue back and wets your shimmery pouted lips with a large wad of his syrupy saliva.Â
In just a split-second.Â
Bowing you back underneath him and stuffing your chatty mouth so damn full of his swollen cock that you canât even think of anything else. Fat droplets of tears fountain up at the edge of your eyes, you donât think youâve ever felt so split open.
He was eight- no, maybe nearing ten whole inches that scraped the back of your mushy throat with his ruthless mushroom tip.Â
Hard. Girthy.Â
Cratering out a wet circumference of bruises into your melty mouth with a singular thrust, and it wasnât enough- fuck, it might never be enough.
Getoâs throwing his head back, toned core muscles tensing. âO-oh. This. Th-this is what it feels like?âÂ
You almost wonder whether he even knew what he was doing once you feel a shaky thigh throwing behind your neck and reel you in close. Drawing you all the way up until your nose scratches his tufted pelvis, mouth hanging wiiidely agape.Â
âSh-shooo bigââ Youâre mumbling through a scalding mouthful, slicked walls clenching at the realization that he had you trapped in a headlock. And by the looks of it, he was never going to let go.
âYeah- yeah?â He shudders out, bass cracking into a zillion shatters near the end. Octaves higher. Unsteady. Meanly, Getoâs leg jostles you even further from behind to probe his shaft even deeper into your velvety mouth, your chin buckling underneath his curvaceous ballsack. Holding you still. Firmly. âFuckinâ l-like that, donât you?â
You canât nod. You canât hum affirmative. He was so bulky inside you that your lips sag underneath the sheer weight.
But your omega preens for the attention, sleek tongue zig-zagging over one of the pounding veins that poked into the roof of your mouth. And itâs enough of an answer for Geto.
Spitting out, âOh yeah? Dirty girl. Didnât expect your loser lilâ Sugu to have such a fat fuckinâ dick, huh?âÂ
So fuckingâŠrude, words teetering right on just the edge of being menacing. And you were just so gorgeous crying all over his cock like this, so much better than when you were hanging off of other alphas.Â
So much better when he strays a thumb to feel your filling throat, the way heâs lodged deep inside. Him. All him.Â
You let off a whiny gag the moment his blushing red cockhead twitches up ferally at the thought. The static cotton in your head making you slurp his length with a sloppy squelch!Â
Heâs pushing up his glasses furiously, âCan you even take it? Seriously- acting so popular nâ mighty when you canât even take my hngh- cock.â
And youâre about to rebuke, youâre about to- you swear.
But oh, he didnât have mercy now.Â
âWhaaaat? Mâjust saying.â The ridges of his head press up all against every nook and cranny of your mouth, a silvery trail of drool now seeping from between your locked lips. Geto wipes away his own cobwebs of drool with the back of his mouth, giggling. Giggling when you scuffle, âSâit too big? Too big for our f-famous lilâ omega?â
Your throat aches something carnally delicious when he keeps a hold âround your neck to plunge into the waterlogged bottom. Bobbing your head in lewd maneuvers allll the way up nâ down. âNgh- SuguââÂ
âHah- hah!â His glassy eyes gleam something wild, microscopic tastebuds watering all over again with just how intensely he was gawking down at you. If you didnât know any better, youâd have said that his eyes were glowing- âWhy are ya still fuckinâ speaking, gorgeous?â
It wasnât a Command, but oh did it feel like one.
Only mere moments later and Getoâs springing himself off of the bouncy mattress to shovel your hot throat full of copious inches and leave you spellbound. Swirling a lazy few half-circles of his heavy tip where you were most sensitive.
âCool that pretty lilâ head. Youâre cuter when yer like th-this, yâknow?â He groans, feeling your slippery cheeks grip his shaft in an adorable hug. Knee drawing up even tighter to hold you still while he fucked your mouth the way heâd been wishing he could for so long. âAll shut up a-and mine andâŠâ
Ah, breath wisping away. Heâs prodding your poor gag reflexes at the very same time he rovers up a stray hand to squeeze your nostrils together. â-only mine.â
âNghh- G-etoooââ And yet, he still doesnât let up. Youâre cupping Getoâs plumpened balls with a delicately loving touch, lustrous strands of spit layering your lips. âWant you.â
âHm?â
âWant you.â
Oh.
Oh.
Those are the very same words heâs been dreaming of every single rut since meeting you. And he canât help himself, he canât stop himself from letting out a slew of swears and cumming.
Shocked.Â
âSh-shitââ Itâs all Geto can do to bite down on the plush of his bottom lip and wrangle back those embarrassing fucking whimpers on his tongue, dewy eyes sparkling with a few overstimulated tears. âYouâre gonna- f-fuckingâŠâ
But heâs not given the privilege to finish his thought let alone his sentence.Â
Just flooding your senses with the caramel salt of his scent, and his gobs of pearly seed. Every jackhammer has Geto pinpricking it on the back of your bruised and battered throat, every squeeze of his hand around your neck makes him drool out in wiry oodles of sap more and more and more-
âSâwhat you w-wanted, right?â And youâre sensing the way his scent tinged with something maddened, leaving your eyes popping. âPrancing around with your hah- p-pre-heat panties and your- fuck!â Geto fights to keep his eyes from flapping closed, âTake it- ohhhh take it all.â
As if you could do anything else.
Every tiny twitch leaves your cavern flooded. Geto was cumming so hard that it was overspilling from each crevice of your lips, a silvery waterfall of cum that heâs dabbing around a thumb to smear.Â
Letting your pouted lips wobble at the fresh topping of white gloss, âThereâs a good girl. My goood fuckinâ girl.âÂ
Oh, thereâs no doubt in your fractured mind right now that Geto Suguru was an alpha. Inhaling his deep puffs of contentment, youâre arching your back mindlessly in delight. Throat loosening with the motions to-
âDonât swallow.â
So mean.Â
You donât think youâre given the split-second to wonder otherwise before heâs grappling for the pretty column of your throat and kissing you raw.Â
Youâre gasping when his depraved tongue smacks down between the seam of your mouth to lather in every scorching hot mess of sap heâd left behind. The mess that he made. And he was only making it messier.
Watching you through barely-cracked open pupils while he scooped up the sticky webs of seed dangling from your mouth. Scratchy buds taking over. A kiss so filthy that you felt shy to even call it that.Â
âMmmââ Getoâs skidding his tongue down the buttered length of his lips, flicking over any stray droplets he could find. And something in his eyes told you that he was mere seconds away from doing it all over again. âNot bad for a first kiss.â
Fuck- what?
âSugu- what-â Youâre panting out measly syllables through the gaps of his sappy mouth. âI-I thought youâd be moreâŠâ
âWhat? A heh- bumbling loser?â His eyes narrow down at you, words purring sexily. âOh, gorgeousâŠâ
Fuck, and if the rasping growl in his tone didnât shut you up, the way that Getoâs throwing you onto the bouncy bed sure does.Â
He doesnât have a care in the world, he doesnât have a single thought other than ripping off your flimsy clothes. Everything but those very same cherry pink panties youâd teased up at him, well- more see-through than anything right now.
Kneeing apart your jittery legs to watch the way your cunt gushes in pure need. Lips curling into a leer at the way she winks up at him through filthy masses of slick.
âSh-sheâs mine now, isnât she?â Rumbling out, eyes wide. Unfocused. And the look on Getoâs face made white-hot trills sprint down your spine - ones you couldnât decode between primal need and fear. âSheâsâŠâ
Ptwah!
The vicious goblet of spit that hits you this time is somehow even meaner than the last, striking at the very top of your sobbing pussy and disappearing riiiight between your folds.Â
âMine.â Awestruck, Geto bullies one capped knee to smooch up against your slit. Gleaming his heated skin with the bucketloads of cute sap that you kept pouring out by the second. Geto was greedy, he was grunting. âBeg for it, omega.â
Youâre squirming underneath him impatiently, clawing all over his unmoving wrists. You ached all over for something. Anything. âDonât- donât wanna-â
But Geto had ten times your strength and wasnât afraid of using it. Oh, he wasnât afraid of using it - wasnât afraid of pinning down both your trembly hands on the bed springs with one of his. Rutting his knee up even more mercilessly, murking his pheromones until it burned of salt and spice. âBeg.â
You mewl, âP-please-â
âNo stuttering.â
âPlease.â And if that wasnât enough, youâre batting your lacquered lashes up at Geto in exactly the way you knew was his weakness. Exactly the way that got you the second-highest GPA for so long. Jutting your back the perfect curvature off of the bed, âIâll let you k-keep my panties, Suguruâ?â
âOh, giiiirlââ He husks out, leaning in so close to plant a yearning snog on your mouth. Blushing pink lips wrapping around your tongue and sucking. You always got what you wanted. âMâkeeping those regardless.â
In his special drawer for all your slutty underwear, of course.Â
And just as soon as Getoâs kissing your lips, heâs trekking his way downwards to make sure that your other ones donât feel left out.Â
âLook at her.â He breathes, words taking on an airy tone that makes him sound as if he was furious. Blistering with the anger that heâs been deprived of the heavenly proximity of your soft, seeping cunt for so long. âH-heh, if o-only those tch- popular friends of yours could see. Just look- look how wet she is fâme. All me.â
A fattened thumb fringes past your panties, and you flinch at the cold press of his silver rings. Rovering all the way to greet your puffy pussylips in languid drags uuuuup and down, pricking his manicured fingernail on the button of your clit.Â
Getoâs hooded lids widen, heat rushing all over his cheeks at the sloppy squelches he draws out. So easily. Adorably.
And it was true - he did have a tattoo. A splashing inking of a dragon all across Getoâs muscled back, somehow making him even more unintentionally hotter.Â
âAnd look how loud mmmââ Heâs kissing the mound of your folds like a lover, lingering. Loving. Stealing deeeeep gasps of your scent, âMâgonna ruin you. Ngh- ohhh, mâgonna r-ruin you, gorgeous. Ruin ya for anyone else.â
And when Geto meant he was going to ruin you - he meant it.
âShit.â He was going to mush his pretty features up into your sopping wet pussy until you could feel every minute, warm pant. Staring right up into the target of your fuzzy heart-eyes, âHow do you- how do you taste so good.â
Every gasp heâs drinking in of your murked perfumed pheromones, showering âround every sense and making him dizzy.
âSqueeze- wanna feel-â
And maybe itâs his rut, maybe itâs the way your tension was so thick - but you instantaneously know what to do.Â
To close your legs in a deadlock around Getoâs oily scalp. Your weighty eyelids bat up and down subconsciously at the attractive way he was digging his bulging biceps into the sides of your thighs. Pulling you in closer and closer and closer. âThat turns you on, huh?â
But that wasnât all- oh, that wasnât what he was making out with your cute cunt and begging for.Â
His mouth lathers over with a fresh bout of watery spit the moment your rubbery ring of muscle clench all around him. Making every ridge of his hot tongue catch on your gooey innards, the texture of it enough to drive you positively wild.Â
âSh-shiiitââ Youâre letting out a primal groan, clawing at his tattooed back. Chest shuddering underneath the strain of one powerful hand pinning you down. Holding you painfully still. âSuguru- want more. More.â
Slipping his slick tongue in and out of your fluttery hole, Geto keens at the way your entrance kept on trying to suck him back in.Â
âFuckinâ know-â In one second, heâs pushing his cloudy glasses up his nose, and in the other he pries apart your puffed lips and caresses. âYer turning into a fucking w-waterpark, dirty girl. Even wetter than all that p-porn I learned fromâŠâ
Youâre whimpering, legs falling further nâ further open until it burned your inner quads. No matter how deeply Geto stuffed his face between them it just wouldnât be enough.
It was almost as ifâŠ
âHeat.â Heâs slurring a looong lap of his grooved tastebuds all over the lustre of your sweet, sweet juices. Free hand wrapping at his favorite position around your neck and making sure to angle your head so that you catch the twinkling droplets of slick pouring down his tongue. âYouâre in heat, little omega.â
Gasping, âW-what?â
But it made sense. It was falling into place and that only made you wetter.
With a smirk, Geto swats your hands until they tangle into his silken tresses. âLemme take care of you.â SWAT! The plapping sensation hits you before the realization that heâd run his crowned digits over to spank your perked clit. âNgh- just sit tight nâ let your nerdy olâ Sugu here take g-goood care of you.â
He was pleading with you - begging you - to latch onto his pretty locks and grind your pussy in repeated gyrations all over his face. Guiding him, using the hook of his pert nose as the perfect ridge to rest your throbbing clit on.Â
âTh-thank you, alphaââ Too good. You were giving into something baser, to let your head loll into the cushy pillow behind you in sweeping motions. And it was so cute he could cum.Â
âYeah? Who- who?â
âYou, Suguru.â
âDamn right.â
With every drag of his hoarse syllables, Geto was trawling his face across every inch between the beautiful legs that you had to offer.
Purposefully.Â
Youâre holding back his endless, inky strands just to admire how pretty he looked. How ravenous. Greedy.Â
Fuck, Geto was making up for all these years he spent parched. Spitting out streak after streak of spittle that made your pussy pour out all over his snogging mouth. âGonna- gonna fuck you like this wâmy cock next.â
His tongue folds into your slobbery hole and slithers into every tender orifice - so staggeringly long that you were feeling a lump in your own throat.Â
Just a few flops into your earliest magical spots and Geto could already hear the way you were fighting to hide your little sobs.Â
âTh-this right here-â Heâs probing a finger underneath the panties that stuck to your cunt like adhesive, letting it spring back to hit you with a smack! Tittering at your yelp, âSâmine.â
Rubbing a fat few crowns of his fingerpads at the tender area underneath the base of your pussy. Pressing down. Hard. âAnd her? All the w-way from here-â
Drawing sensual patterns up, up uuuup all the way to your sensitive clit, and oh- it felt so right to have him draw sultry little hearts on your weepy hood.Â
Tugging it over to nip underneath one sharp canine - one that you swear had grown even longer in the last few minutes. Geto was gone in the depths of his rut, hallowing out his cheeks to eat you out as if he was a man starved. And you were his favorite dessert. âTo here? Sâmine, too.â
RIIIIIPâ!
Through your glossy heaps of tears, you can make out the fuzzy shapes of Geto tearing your satiny underwear into tatters. Balling it up into a wad of sugarcoated fabric that he unapologetically stuffs in your drivelling mouth.
âGonna add these t-to my collection.â You feel him smile against the outer edges of your claggy cunt, tittering at the stupid way your overspilling lips slacken with a soggy pwah! Youâre hearing and feeling a long-winded woooosh from below once he takes a deeeep breath in with his over-delicate senses. âTh-thereeee we go. Cum all over my mouth, gorgeous.â
And if you were in any better state of mind perhaps youâd have noticed the way that Getoâs driving his hips into the bed like a damn dog when he sensed your scent peaking. Sensed you getting closer.
Ragged breaths striking your quivering pussy mercilessly and making your teeth sink desperately into the muggy jumble of underwear in your mouth.Â
Your broken moans burst out even through that particular watergate, right along with a slithery trickle of saliva and a huff of âS-Suguruââ Craning your head to watch his nostrils flare with knowing, âClose- clo- cumming.â
Eyes flashing. Heart thumping not just within your rib cage.
When it rains, it pours.Â
But you werenât just pouring - you were flooding.
Such glutinous ropes of your orgasm, it sprays Getoâs sexy face in squirts. Clinging onto the edge of his glasses and forming little puddles right at the apples of his high cheeks.
Suddenly, you were oh-so-thankful for the way heâd stuffed your mouth mercilessly full - because by the rusted rasp in your throat, youâre sure youâre singing out shrill trills loud enough that his neighbors would file a noise complaint.
But that was the last thing on his mind.
The last thing- well, fuck, it wasnât on his mind at all. Getoâs cooing at how unstable you feel, treacherous fingers mazing across your fat clit and giving her a goood few pushes just the way he would with his gameboys.
âGood girl-â he spits into your gapingly widened cunt, still suffering from the remnant tremors of your high and still slopping out wads of juices. Like a mantra, Getoâs dark brows scrunch in concentration, âGood girl good girl gooood fucking girl.â
Words hitching up into something shrill near the edge, he sounded as if he was fraying his sanity with every droplet of slick you pumped into his mouth. With every single second.Â
Pushing his aching hot cock deeper and deeper into the sullied sheets. More. He needed more.Â
Every sloppy swivel of your widely pried-apart pussy on his tongue made him leave an open-palmed smack! on your thigh. Other hand traipsing to pin your hips down with his big, vein-decorated forearm.Â
He doesnât want to let go.
Youâre barely letting off a whine at the lack of friction before Geto lets his mouth depart from your cunt with a soggy pwah! Leaving a final few French kisses on his favorite sweet orifice, heâs pecking a loooong open-mouthed pathway up to your loosened maw.
âGood girlâŠâ He hiccups, clammy forehead sticking against yours. Each syllable struggles to wrench past the leaden ball slowly forming on Getoâs mouth.Â
The syrup-glazed lenses of his glasses clash into you, and Geto himself seems to notice. âLook what a fuckinâ mess ya made.â Heâs gruffing out at the thick topping of oozing gloss that made the frame impossible to see through.Â
Immediately pulling back a few millimeters to take them off and dump them on your own nose bridge. Unceremoniously.Â
And it was so wet.Â
Almost as wet as Getoâs features were - all showered in gunky dredges of glistening sap. It streaks all the way from his pointed chin and up to his handsome cheekbones. Beads of it hitting your panting chest in a pat! pat! pat!
Heaving out a shaky exhale, heâs pushing away a few elegant strands of charcoal bangs.Â
âMâgonnaâŠmâgonna fuck you now.â Sounding more as if he was talking to himself rather than you. Or perhaps both. Puffy folds being rubbed all raw with the depraved back and forth of his veiny under-shaft. âGonna fuck you. So take it- take it.â
Geto stares deep into your whirling eyes while he sinks his hefty cock into you just as thoroughly. A clingy film sticks to his gaze, dazed and all half-hooded that you wondered if he could even register what was in front of him.
Crazed.
And heâs such a fucking tease, too.Â
Creating a slimy trail of pasty pre all over your weakened inner thighs, he drags his bawling divot all over every stretch of your entrance. Around and around in circles.Â
âB-big, huh? Better take it b-before I- make it- fit-â Heâs echoing, dimples peaking out at the cute way your breath hitches once you feel the sheerly massive circumference of his fat tip. âShhhh shh sh, sâalright- sâwhere youâre m-meant to ngh- be.â
Even for an alpha, he was always staggering - but having him stuffing you to the brim would be a whole other feeling. Would have you ruined.Â
Youâre peering up at him through humid lashes, borrowed glasses smearing wet splotches of slick underneath your skin. Eventually, those panties had found themselves spilling out of your unfastened jaw, âMeant to- hah! be?â
âMhmmmâ pretty omega.â Youâre hit with a sudden wave of coaxing pheromones, the gentle salty breeze making your hips buck subconsciously upwards. Subconsciously aching. âThis sâwhere youâre ngh- meant to be.â
And as much as Geto loved hearing whiny questions bubble their way up to your spit-layered lips, oh- was it so much more fun to eye down at your speechless self when he snugly squeezes just a mere sensual inch.
Leaning back to watch the way his bustling cock was stretching and stretching and stretching your tender walls flawlessly. You were taking him so ridiculously well.Â
âFuh-fuck you-â His plush pecs rumble with his bass from above, words tumbling. Hips rolling. And Geto was fucking gone- staring at you with wide, humorless eyes that you doubt were even seeing. âFuck you- mâfucking youâŠfuck you fuck you fuck!â
With every sharp fah! being whirled into your loose mouth, Geto rubs his puffed-up veins into the tender mound of your cunt. You canât help but count every rapid ba-dumpâ! his achy length throbs.Â
Desperately. Rutting and rutting just to fit himself inside.Â
Around the time heâs only halfway in, Geto circles one hand over his drenched base to skid taut Oâs at the edge of your hole. Nudging his fat girth past your entrance and keening-
âM-more!â Youâre barking out primally, your tongue tied into all sorts of bows and ribbons with the way this stretch was searing. And it was the best sort of tight fit, you were practically drooling all over again at the fleshy thwack! of Getoâs rounded balls smacking your thighs. âMore, Suguââ
âM-moreâŠ?â
It wasnât just you - your luna needed more, too.Â
Youâre nodding and nodding- only to realize with a harsh muffle of Getoâs palm over your noisy mouth that he wasnât even talking to you.
No, he was tittering away in a small sort of voice. Octaves higher. Strained. Goosebumps smatter all across your skin at the way he sounded so unstable.Â
âMoreâŠâ Irises flashing a glowy purple, fingers twitching where he held you. A loser like him. A nerd like him. âM-more she says.â
Fuck.Â
Without another word - without another breath - Getoâs flipping you around with only one beefy palm clawing at your hip. Shoving your face deep into the puff of his nerdy pillows, heâs bottoming out with just one thrust-
You think you scream, you think you bawl once you feel his plummy mushroom head draw a long line of pre along the insides of your cervix. And your pussy felt so full you could burst, your walls crushed with all overpacked inches of his.
Finally.Â
âThaaaatâs it, thatâs it-â Heâs grunting through furiously clenched teeth, a hand crowning the back of your scalp and muffling your words into the bed. Hard. Fuck- he was going to pass out if you made another pretty sound. âSâwhere you belong.â
Ah, there it is - that little broken prayer.
Except, this time it was being respired in boiling hot pants against the tips of your ears. Was being wheezed out of Geto when he lurches his sweat-simmered hips back to hit your ass with a resounding pap!
âAll f-fucked dumb on my ngh- biiig fucking cock, hm?â He tilts your head up with one hand, smiling to himself once he catches a glittery flash of spit leaking from your lips. âAllâŠâ A warm splatter! strikes your back, and only then do you realize that heâs slobbering. âMine.â
And where Geto was talking all possessively - he was fucking you even more so.
In the blink of an eye, heâs planting two sets of fingers on either of your wrists and pulling all the way back, back, back. A length foot being placed right at the small of your spine to get you to bend in a delicious arch-
âFuck!â Your cute voice rings hoarse, like music to his blushing ears. Struggling to regain the gasps of air leaving your lungs, âThere- th-there.â
Oh, shit.
The way Geto was manhandling you was not only bending you in all sorts of lecherously pliable ways that had your slit dripping, it was making his rotund cockhead stub oh-so-viciously into your cervix.Â
Rough. Probing.Â
âH-heh, guess I lost my first kiss there, too.â Heâs giggling out, biting down on the rugged mewls that threaten to depart every time your cunt swallows him whole. âCongrats on being my ngh- first, little omegaâ yer e-even better than my ngh- bodypillows of you.â
Bending you over ever-deeper, honestly- your walls were cloying onto him so desperately that it was making Getoâs heart pang with disappointment every time his ruddied tip recoiled back from the bottom of your sloppy pussy.Â
He wanted to be this close to you forever.Â
Treacling out stringy wads of pre, heâs furrowing brows and making sure each nâ every jackhammer fills you up impossibly.Â
You can barely grapple for air at this point, the sloshes of syrup left after each barrelling strike leaving you star-struck.Â
He grins, âShit, d-do ya ever stop fuckinâ drooling? Gonna hafta call the f-fire department, girl.â
âCanât help itâ!â All you can do it let your mouth unlatch to warble whimper after whimperâ
âCâmon now, gorgeous- arenât ya ashamed?â Licking his lips free of your taste, Geto diverts more pressure to his foot. Hefty balls rippling wickedly against the sobbing end of your slit with just how easy you were to throw around like his favorite toy. Like his favorite figurines. âLook at what a mess yer making. Being fucked so f-filthy. And I havenât even ngh- found it, yet.â
Havenât found it. Oh, but he knew he was going to. He was going to make you scream.
Your syrupy whines slip into something desperate, âY-you donât knowâŠ?â
âOf course I f-fuckinâ know. Who dâya think youâre ngh talking to?â As if you could forget you were being thoroughly pounded by the smartest person on campus right now. And evidently the filthiest, too.Â
A ringed finger treks down to your sensitive nub, soothing over where you were throbbing the most violently. Cute. Lulling you into a sweet, sweet state of bliss before Geto pinchesâ
âOh p-please!â Youâre targeting your hazy vision over your shoulder, and somewhere along the lines Getoâs spectacles had slid cleanly off of you. Toes curling as his bloated head bludgeons just the creamy edges near your g-spot. âPlease- y-youâre so close, Suguru-â
You didnât know whether it was your heat or just Geto that had you so desperate. Your sparkless mind blames the latter.
âAm I?â He hums, leaning over so that the soft tendrils of his hair tickled your back.Â
Whacking his painfully achy crownhead mere centimeters below your magical spots, and youâre starting to think heâs doing this on purpose.Â
Geto starts holding it there for lingering French snogs into the steamy inner depths of your cunt and then you know heâs doing this on purpose. Spitting in your mouth with a smile.Â
That mean bastard.
Jittering your hips to chase the texture of his curly pubic hair against your ass, he snickers. âAre you ngh- suuuure? You havenât done a s-single one of your ngh- human biology essays lately, dirty girl.â
Youâre molding your lips into a pout - difficult, with just how many loads of saliva were pouring out of you and cementing a puddle onto the Digimon pillows. âF-fuck you.â
âNoâŠâ You set free a gasp of air you didnât know you were holding the very second he lets go of the rough foot anchoring your spine, instead- in only mere nanoseconds you find yourself jerked up into Geto Suguruâs hold with a hand at your throat. Back gluing against his glissading abs, even his voice was unbalanced and trembling now. âIâm fucking you, little omega.â
And you were about to remember it.
With an immediate pitch of his gasping breaths, Getoâs angled hips go from steadily ruined to sloppy. Calculated.Â
He didnât care if he made a mess of stringy slick that circled in the satiny sheets around the two of you, he didnât care if your eyes were bulging out of their poor sockets when his pronounced hips dig into your backside with blistering bruises.Â
He didnât care for anything but digging the curled fringe of his fatly bloated tip right into the target of your g-spot.Â
Mazing through your gluey folds and keeping them snugly open with his reddened girth, Geto knocks your sweetest spots with vengeance.Â
âThereâ!â You call out, as if he hadnât already felt the gooey seize of your pussy trying to hold him hostage.Â
His mouth trudges over your throat, fingers roaming over to give your clit a nice few pinches. Meaningfully, âHere? Orrrrââ Punctuating each word, each second with a thorough drilling into your g-spot. â-here? Make up th-that ditzy lilâ mind. Seriously.â
Your head drunkenly crashes on top of his collarbone and stays there, âR-right here- there. Both, Sugu.â
âAgain with the f-fucking Sugu-â Geto snarls out, though you can sense by his cloudy scent that he was anything but irritated with you.Â
Your whines had quietened down into something more of an incoherent mess, and the main things ringing in Getoâs ears right now were the creaky protests of his bed and the clammy plops of his thrusts.Â
âCâmon nowâ whereâs my bossy fuck! omega? The one who loves her poor, nerdy Sugu?â
Arousal reaching a peak, and now that heâd found your g-spot, he was probing into it with fat thuds. Not just once or twice. Nooooo, it was over and over and-Â
âJust w-wanna cumââ youâre sobbing out. Jerking your body like a bobble-head up and down to further feel the drag of his Herculean form behind you, to savor each ridge and sculpted curve sweatily massaging your back. âP-pleeeeease, Suguru. Let me cum?â
Swerving his tensing hips out alllll the way back to leave solid smooches âround your pussy entrance each and every time, and then there were the squelches-
Oh, you were just flooding a slippery sheen all over his hefty, swelling base. A viscid luster of slick that glided all the way down to drip off of his sack nâ between his legs.Â
Your eyes manage to snatch themselves open- hissing at the realization that it was pooling especially around that particularly ballooned-up ring right over Getoâs breeder balls.Â
Was that? With a shiver youâre rutting backwards, feeling for yourself the slow drag of his proud knot. Bigger than any else youâve ever seen. It was.Â
You rasp, throat itchy and raw. Sweltering droplets of tears streaming down your cheeks when he matches the stuttering beat of your heart with every pressurized push- âP-please.â
âNeedy thing. Cum, huh?â Geto drawls out, voice thick with need and something else you were too stupid to register right now. He collides you even tighter against rippling pecs. Taking the sweet, sweet opportunity to poke his nose into your scent gland and steal a looooong breath of your overdriven pheromones.Â
âCum then, c-cum. Fucking cum all over my cock.â
Fuck, itâs with those exact words in mind that you do.
Startling straight headfirst into your high - and you donât think youâve even crashed into one wave of bliss before the other overtakes you. And another. And another-
âOh g-godââ Youâre trilling, only held up by the ruthless grip that Geto was maintaining. His hips were deep, and your pleasure even deeper. â-please. Please- please, Sugu-â
Heâs hunching over your body ever-so-slightly, resting your thighs against his thick, flexing ones. Only bending you over to kiss your g-spot even more sinfully, Getoâs response comes out ragged into your lobes. âTch, wh-what now?â
His ruby-red tip was blushing like a strawberry and just as plump - swirling around your treasure trove of spots, pounding you through each peak of your orgasm until you saw stars.Â
âCum i-insiiiide-â Your barely-audible groans spring out into the heady air, adding to its hypnotic mix of perfumes. And itâs not just the heat that made you crave Geto carnally, every pap! against the puffy ring at his base making you crave more more more- âWant it a-all upâŠâ
Youâre trailing off, melted mind unable to do multiple things at once.Â
With tottering fingerpads, youâre trapping one of his palms underneath your own. Homing itself right above where his rounded tip was stretching open your insides, right above your womb.
âH-here, okay? Donât miss-âÂ
You blink up at him and Geto thinks he might just be having a heart attack. Sparks fizzing around his sloshed brain, âFuh-fuuuuckâ donât talk out of yer pussy, gorgeous.â He spanks your clit once. Twice just to watch your eyes glaze over stupidly. âOr mâgonna get you pregnant.âÂ
Soothing over that faint bulge he was fucking into your tummy, âGonna h-have my baby growing allll up in here. Make you round andâŠâ His voice sounds faint, whispering. â-big andâŠglowing. AndâŠand pregnant.â
But, ah- you never did make it easy for him. Did you? Always had to have your way.Â
Which Geto Suguru gladly gave.Â
âBut I want that, Suguââ You pout, âWanâ your knotâŠplease?â
You didnât have to say another word before Getoâs finishing off in such a messy way, reaching the biggest fucking orgasm heâs had in his entire life. The strongest. The most heavenly and oh- oh, were you an angel?
Heâs collapsing onto the drenched sheets before he knows it, pinning you down with the strong v-line of his hips.Â
âShit-â Geto emits through the cracks in his bitten canines. âShit shit shit- shit-â
You donât know whoâs losing their mind more, you or him. Falling into the well of a second, third, perhaps even fourth orgasm with how blissfully his fattened, split-ended cock bruised every nook of your adhesive-like walls.Â
Your saliva cascades in puddles that soak the pillows through. âSuguruuuâ a-are you okay-â
âDo I look okay?â
Sexily ridged abs kneading your back, hands scrambling on the mattress, inked shoulders shivering. His swollen knot hits and hits your pussymound.Â
And itâs only once his trembly fingers latch around his glasses - fumbling, dropping it copious times before Geto manages to push them haphazardly onto his face.Â
Tilting his head back just enough degrees to watch as the curved fringe of his knot disappears past your puffy folds.Â
âThere we- thereâŠâ Heâs driveling clingy wads of translucent saliva, letting the stray pouring excess hit your fluttering hole with a splat! One eager thumb of Getoâs hooks into your entrance and bullies it aside to let his incredible perimeter sink iiiiiiiiin-
Heâs melting into you now, spent. Ruined. âGet pregnant.â Geto whispers into your sweat-glossed shoulder blade once he feels the back of his knot get fully enveloped into your pussy with a gummy pop! Once he feels himself finally tip over- âGet pregnant.â
And itâs not just mindless babbling - itâs a promise.Â
A promise that he rasps out time and time against with every wadded slip of seed that dollops out across your cervix. Pushing it so deep. Smearing acres of ribbony streaks all over your most precious orifices and spots.Â
âGonna know wh-what we did.â Geto whimpers, shit- he couldnât pound his voluminous ounces of cum into you as aggressively as he wanted with this damn knot. âEntire campus. Professors. Everyoneâs gonna know ngh- how I fucked ya full. F-fucked you pregnant. Gonna wonder.â
But that didnât stop him from trying.
That didnât stop him from wrenching out a hand to squeeze the ends of your sopping wet slit, forcing down on his very knot. Squeezing out so many numerous dredges of syrupy white cum that thwack! thwack! thwacks! a filthy second skin against your walls.Â
âFuh-fuuuuckâ get pregnant, gorgeous.â Heâs rutting. Grinding. Humping you like some beast more than man. âGonna l-look at you all round nâ big and see me- me me me. Get pregnant get pregnant get-âÂ
Getoâs mouth parts at the pearly dewdrops of seed that leak from the overstuffed ends of your cunt. He can feel his entire body twitch, can feel his sharpened teeth lacquer so rabidly.Â
He still wasnât done.
Still letting one prespired forearm of his dangle around your neck, manhandling you into a fucking headlock. The other tracing the edges of his digits over your glands, squeezing until your skin was all tender and raw.Â
And puffy.Â
Perfect for him to tilt his head and biteâ
âOhhh- yes!â Every fibre of your being delights at the way Getoâs biting you so hard that you can smell crimson iron. Your pheromone bubble pops! to mix together with his own. Becoming one. And you can scent him - you can feel him.Â
Glasses clashing, teeth tearing. Before you know it, youâre doing the same. âSuguruuuuâ mâyours.â
Your mate latches onto the curves of your hips - your soon-to-be birthing hips.Â
And the way Geto rediscovers that - tucking his face into the ruined, drenched fabric of those cherry pink panties and taking an endless, husky sniff - tells you that this was going to be a long, loooong night.Â
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female)
Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut
Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame
Warnings: 18+, smut, fuckbuddies to lovers, semipublic/public sex, dirty talk, creampie, oral, handjobs, fingering, hickeys, mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 17 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16 - coming soon -
Chapter 17
Accompanying art for this series:
Smoke break with Sukuna by @sweetlandspos
Sukuna during practice by @samaraxmorgan
Sukuna at the window in Chapter 10 by @samaraxmorgan
Sukuna and Reader in the hallway in Chapter 9 by @ravencat-art
Thank you so much for those beautiful and sexy pictures!!
To get added to the taglist please comment or send me an ask (18+ only) â„ïž
âAlright.â Geto cuts through your astute observation, making an observation of his own that the elderly lady seated beside you two had promptly turned off her hearing aids. âSo you really didnât get any studying done during this âstudy sessionâ, huh?â
Waving your hands airily, âItâs not that we didnât try, itâs justâŠâ The glinting snake bites on Getoâs lips curl at the sinful sight of those teeth marks down the side of your neck, the way your thighs still quivered in broad daylight. Still.Â
He already knew that there was something more between you and your âcocky, book-hugging, jerkwadâ academic rival. He saw the way Gojo looked at you. And he saw the way you looked back.Â
Somewhere down the line it made Geto tighten in his pants.
Heâs flitting a wide-eyed glance between his thighs, fuck, then at the thick smoothie in his hands- was there something they put in this or what?
No, heâs subtly shaking his head. Itâs just not everyday that you hear about your best friend finally hooking up with the very same man sheâd been complaining about ever since first meeting him. It was a long time coming - the entire campus knew at this point. Hell, heâd even distantly heard about a few betting pools to see whoâd crack first (okay, maybe he betted in them, too- but only twice!)
So Geto was simply happy for you. Really.Â
After all, heâd been right by your side through every argument, every middle finger, every war for top spot on the Deanâs List until that tall, gloomy nerd had completely nâ utterly fucked you.
And here you were, telling him all about it.
Never having been more thankful for that obnoxiously frilly tablecloth covering his legs, Geto coughs away the slight hitch in his breath. âWas it good, pipsqueak?â
A slightly dreamy look wafts across your face, and with the way that his length twitches in interest, heâs pushing away his smoothie completely now. Unable to take any chances of it somehow being spiked.
You sigh, âHate to admit it, but yeah.â
âNerdy fuckinâ Gojo made you cum?â
âMultiple times.â
Another jolt, another squeeze of his meaty thighs.Â
He darts his darkening eyes away from the expression on your beautiful face. What heâd give to make you look like that, too- no. No, he canât. âAh, s-so- you twoâve fucked away the tension now, or what?â
âWell, I wouldnât say fucked away.â Youâre humming idly, âHe did argue with me while he was inside of me.â At the strange, strangled squawk that leaves Getoâs mouth- âI know right?â
Heâs crossing and uncrossing his legs, throat dry. Sharply glancing downwards once more, âLike- dirty talk?â
And youâre completely oblivious to the way that youâre absolutely ruining him, Geto latching onto every syllable that slips out of your pretty lips like heâs breathing them in. Goddammit, he was feeling soâŠâHmmâsure, but just arguing, too. Would you believe it if I told you he tried to pick a fight even after I made him cum dry?â
âC-cum dry.â The usually-deep baritone of Getoâs voice breaks as he echoes the end of your sentence, fingerpads tapping impatiently on the top of the table. Stop talking. Stop thinking. âYou can do that?â
It comes out much more urgently than he would have liked - much more panicked - and just before you can suspect anything, heâs tugging on the ragged texture of his baggy, ripped jeans. âA-anyways, did you hear about Yagaâs-â
âSugu, are you okay?â Oh, too late. Before he can stop you, youâre reaching over one of your palms to cover the expanse of his forehead. Feeling for his temperature, âYouâre a littleâŠhot.â
âMmâ Iâm always hot, gorgeous.â Trying for his usual nonchalance, but if the way you knit your brows is anything to go by, then youâre not buying his act one bit.Â
âIs it strange that I slept with Gojo? I mean, I know Iâve been hating him all this time but-â
He clasps his much-larger hand over yours, blunt nails chipped with dark polish. âNo no. Donât worry about it.â With a smile, Geto stretches his long legs underneath the table to tangle them with yours. Heat against heat. Swelling cock against his pants. Tongue snagging on the silver of his snake bites.
The scorching blush that simmers across his cheeks is almost startling as he pushes away the bangs from his face - so pretty, you had to admit. Such a brash, tattooed style to him that drove nearly every woman, man, and anything in between wild any time his looming figure sauntered through campus.Â
Winking his eyeliner-smudged lids, âIn fact-â
Ah, well, if you canât beat themâŠ
â-tell me more.â
Join âem.
Getoâs sure the poor olâ lady next to you faints.
Oh, Geto had one hand wrapped around his aching cock to pump until his wrist ached.
Groaning at the squelch of his thumb smearing down the crown of his reddened shaft, heâs plugging up his bawling divot. Other hand reaching over to shuffle inside his bedside cabinet, âCâmon, where- where is- ah.â
There it was.
Getoâs fingers plunge out from the depths of the drawer, all wrapped up in the strappy lace of a pair of pretty pink panties. Your panties.
Ones youâd accidentally left after a sleepover - and really, youâd stolen more than enough of his Green Day t-shirts that he didnât exactly feel bad about stealing them away.
About hastily plucking that cutesy underwear up and pushing it against his face, heâs rolling his glassy eyes back and sniiiiffing the sweet, sweet scent of you. That smell he couldnât get enough of. So close and yet, so far.
âSh-shit.â Getoâs heavy shaft grows even harder in his hand, and he didnât even think that was possible. Sinking the fringes of his teeth into his bottom lip, he wraps the ribbony fabric âround his erection, âOh, shouldnât do this- r-really shouldnât do this.â
But he canât stop. Not when heâs fucking the plush comfort of his palm in repeated, sloppy strokes- and not even when Geto hears the bzzztâ! of his phone vibrating from that very same bedside cabinet.
Breath catching as he turns his head to blearily stare at the flashing screen - Pipsqueak. You.Â
AhâŠwithout a second thought, Geto grabs his phone with one hand, the other still tugging on the veiny shaft of his cock. Unlocking it to find that youâd sent a photograph of you - and the infamous Gojo himself. Mouth downturned, flush burning.Â
The two of you were cramped into the frame, at the forefront of some aquarium. Innocent, surely- but Geto catches the glide of Gojoâs fingertips down the side of your waist, the way youâre leaning in just enough to let a flash of cleavage peek through.
Dilated pupils flickering between the two figures, he finds his tattooed hips thrustingââOh. Iâm fucked.â
So very, very fucked.
And after this, he had an email to write. To none other than Yaga.
.
.
.
âIori and Haibara. Ieri and Ijichi.â Professor Yagaâs bored, monotone voice drones through with his usual steady pace, announcing each pairing for the upcoming assignment.
A practical project, it seemed - and you canât help but feel your heart race once heâs thumbing down the list of names. Finally announcing yours andâŠâGojo.â But before you can show even the slightest bit of euphoria, Yagaâs tugging up his thick sunglasses. Raising a thick brow, heâs turning your way.
And for a split-second, you think heâs staring you down- that is, until you follow his line of sight and find that Yagaâs staring above you. Just the row above.
Exactly where Geto was.Â
Eyes half-lidded, atmosphere surrounding him burning. Goosebumps prick down your spine, and you find yourself wondering what the hell was happening in this thick moment of silence.Â
Evidently, Gojoâs musing the same from his seat right beside you. Whispering from the side of his maw, âWhat the hell? I havenât seen Yaga look like that since the last time you started an argument with me during class, miss valedictorian.â
That damned know-it-all nickname.
Youâre taking a good, long look at him - neat, crisp. The way his thick-rimmed glasses framed a slight cute frown, cosied up in a cotton vest that hid his muscular figure, his sapphire eyes twinkling through pale bangs as you sneer.Â
âSatoru, that was your fault- and yesterday.â
âWell, itâs about to be right now.â
âYou just want to be yelled at by me, perv.â
Heâs opening his pouted mouth to snark back - but Yaga beats him to it. With a gruff, cutting announcement that neatly finishes off the rest of your little group, â-and Geto.â Only to turn away as if nothing ever happened, and rattle out the rest of his lengthy list.Â
And Geto? Youâre furrowing your brows- this was meant to be a paired project, wasnât it?Â
Well, not that you were unhappy to be with your best friend - it was rare that your uptight professor ever took his studentsâ preferences into consideration. But, according to your calculations, there wouldnât have been any odd ones out in the student body, and Yaga had seemingly formed two trios for the sake of it.Â
Question on your lips, youâre turning in your seat to face Geto. Only to meet his eyes and oh-
Something about him was almost predatory. Something dangerous. Something that makes you gulp, and Gojo squeeze his fingers with yours.
Resting his face upon one of his palms, Geto purrsââConsider this project aâŠscience experiment, gorgeous.â
.
.
.
A science experiment.Â
A science experiment.Â
Rubbing his swole nâ red cock raw to your photographs, writing an intently-worded email to Yaga with his choice for project pairings, and inviting the two of you to his apartment later - he was finally here, with his âscienceâ experiment.Â
With his ringed fingers toying down the patterns of his throbbing shaft veins, listening to the way that Gojo made you let off the prettiest shrill whimpers. âF-fuck, donât be shy.â
You didnât even know how you were here - only seconds after entering Getoâs sprawling living room before youâre somehow laid across his couch. Sprawled across Gojoâs lap, still fully clothed but being kissed stupid.
The former gazing all the while, thick thighs manspread like he was watching a show of his very own. Heâd moved one of his cushy armchairs to watch dead-on as Gojo lifts his mouth off of yours with a dampened slurp just to spit between your parted lips.Â
Thwack! Itâs gluing to the ridges of your tastebuds with a splatter, âThen you kiss me all proper, princess.â Gojoâs hissing between your swollen lips, the honed points of his canines nipping down on your maw just to get you to open wider. âYer really embarrassing yourself in front of your best friend.â
Huffing, âIâm the- mmpf-â
Only to have your heated cavern stuffed with the expanse of his textured tongue. Itâs just so sloppy how heâs kissing you, with the slimy edge of his muscle swirlinâ the insides of your maw as Geto snickers.
Unhinging your jaw open, you manage to muffle out. âIâm the one embarrassing myself?â The flat of your palm caresses vertically down the front of his cotton vest. All smart and sensible. Moving it down his bumpy pecs, then only further down his abs, down, down-Â
Before clinging your greedy fingerpads onto the large, cylindrical length of his erection. All looong and hard, itâs laid out the side of his meaty right leg. âWhoâs the one thatâs rock fuckinâ hard already?â
âF-fuck.â Heâs gasping into your touch, and through his linen pants you can feel the bulge of his cock twitch. Flinching needily enough that the syrupy puddle forming between his thighs starts to grow even sappier, âAnd whose fault is that~?â
âMmmâ mine.â
âHeh, so you know how to take accountability?â
Vulgarly, the edges of your fingers twitch into a squeeze over the outline of his cock - so thick that your hand struggles to properly close around him. âOnly for this.â
âYou little-â
âSo you two seriously argue during sex, too?â Getoâs husky voice breaks through, and youâre both snapping your head over to see the way his head tilts. The way he lurches his hips slightly off of his seat with a buck, fingers dragging down his veiny cock. âFuck, thatâs hot.â
Noticing the silky scrap of fabric that sticks out from the gaps of his fingers, youâre whining at the sight of those familiar panties youâd lost months ago. âSuguruââ
âYou can make those sounds for him, too?â Gojo snarls, rutting you up on his v-line so that your dazed head lolls back towards him. Swatting a hand down on the side of your ass cheek, heâs lifting your thin skirt enough to give Geto just a peek of your panties.
Possessive. Feral.
Something primal slips into Gojoâs throat as he toys with the wiry strings of your underwear, where heâs sure Geto can watch. âMâshocked weâre not fighting even more, miss valedictorian.â
âSh-shut up.â
With a gasp, youâre pushinâ your sultry hips further down onto his. Grinding so that the slope of your slit presses through your panties and onto his fattened cock, just so wet that it leaves a glistening snail-trail between Gojoâs thighs.
âMmmââ Geto departs with a chuckle, hands pumping even faster on the veiny, gleaming length of his cock until it was almost just a pinkish blur. Heâs milking himself with a grunt at each lecherous interaction, âKeep going, gorgeous. Just like that.â
Shyly, you shift your restless hips, âB-but, SuguâŠâ
âOhhh I like that.â Geto juts his chin up, nudging the rough fabric of his pants down to free a few more solid inches even more. âSay that again, pipsqueak.â
âS-Sug-â
âNuh uh.â But before you know it, Gojo has a hand smushing your cheeks together into such a pathetic pout. Staring back down at him- âYouâre going to say âToru.ââ
Geto muses, âSugu.â
âToru.â
âSugu-â
âTo-â
âP-please.â Your wailing cries cut through the slight battle, impatiently humping the plane of Gojoâs clothed pelvis at a pace that damn near reaches a fever-point. âJust want something- anything.â Head throwing back, babbling, oh-so-pretty that Geto puffs out a low hum, and tucks your soaked panties away.
âThen câmere, gorgeous.â
Gojo interrupts, âWhat?â
âI saidâŠâ The tattooed man plows on, lips twitching even further into a grin once youâre standing up on wobbly legs. The flesh of your thighs squeezing together with each step, â-come here. You too, nerd.â
Oh.
Oh.Â
And you canât even remember the treacherous trek you take to clamor up onto Getoâs widespread thighs, heâs just so big nâ beefy that it takes you a few tries to properly straddle his toned hips. Grappling your two hands on top of his round deltoids, âL-like this, Suguru?â
âAtta girl, there you go.â Perking you up further- he takes a second to admire you. To memorize you. To take in every heady pant of yours and each dry hump of your cunt.Â
Before tugging a girthy finger upon the sides of your current panties and teeearing straight through them. Skirt next to follow.Â
Gojo can only watch in utter awe as heâs bared to your pretty, sopping pussy from behind- fuck, heâs never going to get used to this. Joints weakening, mouth parched, his towering frame falls to his knees at merely the sight.Â
âPussy got your tongue, Toru?â Youâre tittering once Gojoâs only saddling up behind you on the carpet, glasses now level with your slick-glazed lips. Close.Â
âWell, he will have your pussy, pipsqueak.â Getoâs piping up from underneath you, sliding further down the armchair so that Gojoâs nose sticks to the outer part of your sheeny cunt. âBut where do you want me? Here?â Groping your ass, âOrrrr here?â Your thighs. âOr-â
âNo teasing, Suguru.â
âOh, gorgeous, I could go allll fucking day withoutâŠâ One of his rings shaped into a gothic skull traces your cunt, â-dessert.âÂ
Gojo scoffs, âWell, Iâm fucking starved-â
Geto grins, âAnd I wanna kiss these lips first.â
âO-oh mmââ It was just maddening- the very nanosecond that Gojoâs hearing heâll be having your sweet, honeyed pussy all to himself, heâs plastering his mouth to your folds.Â
Stirring the curvy edge of his tongue instantly past your soppy entrance, puckering you up for a saccharine kiss. Latching his glossy lips down to the swollen fringe of your pussylips, he throws his head back and grins. âNothing smart to say now, miss hah- valedictorian?â
âNow now, of course, she doesnât.â And itâs the very moment that Getoâs mouth kisses your own that youâre realizing he didnât have just snake bites - heâd hidden away a frigid, metallic tongue piercing.Â
That slick spheroid wafting between your lips, Getoâs drinking you in like heâs a man parched. And every cute bubble of spit spilling from your mouth was the first droplet of water heâs had in eons. Feeling his smug grin across your lips, âNot when sheâs kissing me, of course.â
âTch- as if.â Gojo spits- literally, a great, glittery wad of spittle that thrashes past your quivering hole. Salivating his tongue to push juuuust inside, just teasing the tight ring of your cunt with his velvety tongue. âSâbecause of me. Her vaginal introitus is just drooling.â
And oh- Gojoâs tongue is just so flexible. Swabbing the tender orifices of your sleek cunt with his pointed tip, he bullies a few inches past your entrance and makes you whine. âP-please- ngh more, Satoru. F-fuck me like you mean it.â
Snickering, Gojo only swats the right side of your ass cheek, gripping it to haul your wildly bucking body further against his face. Until his chin hits your treacly cunt, until his nostrils canât even breathe-
âAw, nothing fâme?â Geto coos, and while youâre all jostling and thrashing, one of his ringed hands plummet down the side of your body. Pryinâ apart your slick-glued folds to press his knobbled index on top of your clit like a button. âYouâre my best friend. What if I wanâ a taste, too?â
Your breath hitches by the time heâs glazing his finger across your creamy pussy already, covering it with just enough layers of your juices. Just enough to hover up into his mouth and suck.
Gasping, âBut youâre alreadyâŠâ
âSânot enough.â And while Gojo slips nâ slides his flattened tongue between your pussylips, Geto puckers his maw up to yours. Hazy amethyst irises only half-opened, mouth quirking just at the ends. âSpit.â
It happens all at once- youâre spitting inside Getoâs mouth and he moans at the taste of you, never one to be forgotten, Gojo splats out saliva on your cunt and forces his impaling tongue inside.
âOh, your bartholin glands are just sopping all over me, so much- ngh- leukorrhea.â Babbling away, Gojoâs letting out such noisy smacks each time he flops his tongue out to flick your shaky hole. Harder. Deeper.Â
Heâs eating you out like heâs addicted to it, the long length of his pale lashes fluttering every time the sharpness of his jawline pushes against your slam-contacted flesh until he canât push himself even further.Â
Until the rim of his spectacles coldly swats your pussy and makes him stutter, âW-wonder if I can reach the ngh- GrĂ€fenberg spot like thisâŠâ Tugging you back with trembling hands, the thickness of his tongue probes even deeper against your walls. âMore- if only I can-â
âYouâre never reaching it like that, nerd.â Geto rolls his eyes, back to slithering his right hand down and cupping your pussy.Â
He snickers each time heâs feeling the silky crowns of his fingerpads brush against Gojoâs thrashing tongue. Toying with the other man, heâs covering the nub of your pulsing clit each nâ every time, just so that Geto can be the one to give it a good, long pinch.
Itâs just so cute how you buck into him with a hollow gasp, âWh-what did I say about teasing, Suguââ
âJust canât help it, pipsqueak.â Your best friend purrs, snagging the sharpened ends of his snake bites against your lips. Bouncing his meaty thighs, running your cunt ragged with each rough drag down his loose, ripped jeans.Â
Once. Twice. Again and again- until Gojoâs clawing a hand on the side of your glissading hips to stop your slobbering cunt from darting too far away from him. You squeal, âW-wait, ohh ngh- Satoru, mânot gonna last like thisââ
The dual stimulation was just rendering you stupid, twitching on top of Getoâs lap each time heâs scraping your pussy down to ride his tattooed thighs. Every bounce leaves you recoiling right back into Gojoâs mouth, mouth watering at the rovering push of his tongue entering you. And out. In and out-
âGood.â Thwack! Spanking one of his emblem rings down on your clit, âBecause I think mâgetting impatient here. Iâve been waiting for ages, after all.â
âA-ages?â
âMhmâ oh, you have noooo idea, gorgeous.â Drawling out, Getoâs driving you crazy with the twist of his hips angling you properly.Â
Making it just so that your pussylips spread wiiide open to ride his leg like you were pouring your sheeny slick out all over it. Just so that Gojoâs angular tongue can sharply strike near your g-spot, just so that youâre cumming before you know it.
It runs you over in a sudden wave, and before you know it- youâre simply seeing pure white. âO-oh my god. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, mâcummingââ Glassed irises running cartoonish circles inside the whites of your eyes with each swivel.Â
Head falling forwards into the crook of Getoâs neck, hips planted firmly on Gojoâs face - exactly where he wanted it.Â
And heâs lavishing his tongue allll over your quivering pussy, dragginâ out each spike of your high with a stretching thrust. âOh- oh, mâfucking starved, princess. Like that, cum- cum on my ngh- tongue. My tongue.â Dilated blue eyes blinking up drunkenly, âMy tongue only.â
Geto raises a dark brow, âYours only?â
Gojo pipes up with a glistening grin, slapping away Getoâs tugginâ fingerpads to suckle on your clit like a sweetened piece of candy. âYeah. Too fucking late now, arenât you?â
Chilling spheroid tongue piercing licking down your salivating lips, âYou sure?â
âPositive.â
Almost in response, Gojoâs wrapping his beefy forearms back around your inner thighs. Planting your overstimulated cunt even deeper across his mouth, digging his glasses back into his straight nosebridge - it didnât matter if Gojo would suffocate if it meant he could go out with the syrupy taste of your slick drivelling down the sides of his mouth.
But Geto only coos, looking down at the other man through his inky locks. âDonât be like thatâ didnât all your books ever teach you about sharing?âÂ
âMânot sharing my girlâs pussy.â
âMhm?â
It was a challenge.Â
And both treated it as such.
Youâre being tugged âround in the middle like some boneless ragdoll, the hazy state of your mind spinning once Geto stands up. For a split-second.Â
And seats you down all prettily on the armchair he was in, with your legs splayed wiiiide open with a deafening wet squelch of your pussy. Gojoâs coral pink lips parting into a soft oh! when the other man kneels down right beside him on the ground - both of them on their knees for you.
Both of them latching onto one of your legs with pawing hands, nudging them further open to accommodate their hulking sizes. To accommodate the way that both Geto and Gojo tackle themselves down to eat your drippinâ pussy at the same time.
Again.Â
âH-hold on- both of you- oh, mmm, fuck.â And you canât do anything but cling your clammy palms onto both of their heads. âI donât know if I even can hck! cum again so soon.â
âYou will, princess.â
âWeâll make sure of it.â
Gojo on your left, Geto on your right- theyâre flopping out two lengthy pinkish tongues between your trembling thighs. Sloshing against each other, fighting against each other, each of their pretty features plastered upon the inner side of each leg.Â
And where Gojo was eager, Geto was teasing. He was mean- lining the slick slit of your cunt with looooong, tender glides. He snickers once heâs feeling the other man impatiently thrust into your hole, âMmmâfuck! Sweeter than I ever imagined.â
âI know.â Gojoâs snowy brows knit, chin polishing with ribbons of your juices each time he nodded his head down to shove past your first tight ring of muscle. Pumping you full. Beading your every nook and cranny with a thorough probe of his tastebuds, âAnd sheâs my hah- miss valedictorian- isnât that right, princess?â
âY-youâre both acting so- hck!â Itâs a wonder you even could speak with how much they were ruining your damn pussy. â-ch-childish- fuck.â
Lapping up every dribbling ounce of slick you gave off, licking into every and any spot on you that they could scour. And you were so much extra aroused now, a pure translucent waterfall sticking down the fronts of their chins with every too-sensitive touch.
Hell, youâre blinking your watery eyes down to watch the way that Gojoâs thumbing apart your swollen folds just so that he could plunge his tongue inside deeper. Faster.Â
Sloppier.Â
Slipping over each other, chins knocking, greedy.
With the rawest, loudest squeeelchâ! Geto lingers his piercing over your clit, taking full claim with the way heâs sucking. âShe might be your âmiss valedictorianâ...â Groaning, youâre feeling his glinting canines bite down once on the nearby flesh of your thigh, and then twice on your oversensitive clit - enough to leave a slight mark. â-but sheâs my pipsqueak. So if I wanna taste, mâgetting it. Isnât that riiightâ?âÂ
THWACK!
Spanking your clit just so youâre crying out-
âSâwhat I thought.â Geto hums.
And thatâs exactly what he was doing - what they both were doing.
Two soppily wet tastebuds rubbinâ your pussy all over until you were oversensitive, and the way theyâre fighting to see who occupies the most of your sweet, sweet cunt is just animal.
Gojo pushinâ his face deeper until the line of his glasses left bright red marks on his flushed face, Geto instead moving you- gluing a palm on the side of your hips and jerking you to him.
âO-oh nghhh it feels shoooo good-â Youâre slurring, so stimulated that your hands wrestle for purchase on the chairâs cushion each time youâre throwing your head back and bucking up, up, up.Â
âGood? Good, gorgeousâ?â
âMhmââ
Cunt throbbing oh-so-badly at every slash of their tongue, the way that Geto grips a hand onto the back of Gojoâs head to guide him into your favorite spots. Nudging your earliest bundles of nerves with his probinâ, thumping tastebuds.
Your breath catches with a sob within your clogged throat at the sight of Geto usinâ that tight leverage to tilt Gojoâs head ever-so-slightly so that their tongues meet each other.Â
Filthy oodles of saliva watering over the edge of the other manâs tongue as he moans, Getoâs grinning when heâs kissing both your sappy cunt and him. âDonâtcha even know how ta properly eat a girl out, nerd?â
âI-I do-â
âSpit.â
âWhat?â
âSpit.â
In a sultry split-second, your already drenched pussy is being swamped by two steady streams of saliva. Spitting. Getoâs tongue everywhere, he sucks on your perked clit while Gojo back takes over sinking his honed muscle inside your gummy walls. âTch, sâthat all you got, Suguru? You clearly donât even know the nghh- benefits of stimulating her adventitia-â
âThatâs not shit, what youâve gotta do is- hahh-â Geto departs a sweltering hot gust of breath, letting Gojoâs curling pink tongue thrash inside your pussy while he snagged three ringed fingers on your rim and push-push-puuuushes inside. â-stretch her pretty lilâ cunt wiiiide open.â
âF-fuuck why is it so bigââ Youâre whining, crying. Legs hooking over both their shoulders to bring them together. The sheer scrape of Getoâs metallic rings against your sweet spots makes you see stars, âDonât think mâgonna last longâŠâ
âC-close, huh?â Gojo drags out through a breathy tone - and thereâs something higher-pitched in his tone, something that almost sounded gone. Such a primal tinge to his tone, heâs nuzzling his nose against your clit and making such a mess.Â
Geto grunts, rosy lips pulling back into a snarling grin by the time he gives you one-two-three sloppy strokes. Reaching for the plush area of your g-spot âWhat did I say? Gotta stretch her reeeal big so she can take me-â Hitting it - hard. â-isnât that right, pretty lady?â
He wasnât even talking to you at this point - just your pussy. And you swear youâre feeling the pointed nib of even Gojoâs falter slightly on your clit as he speaks.
Squelch after squelch, theyâre both pulling out of you when youâre only growing wetter. The tips of your toes curling inwards as youâre feeling your tummy spark near familiar bliss, âS-Suguâ!â
THWACK!
The stinging noise rings out before youâre even feeling the burning ache, the way that Getoâs firm fingerpads stick to your plump cunt in a sharp swat. Him snickering, âSee?â
âYouâve no idea how long Iâve waited for ngh- this, nerd.â Ever since he first met you that fateful orientation day, in fact. Tongue piercing tickling your clit, fighting Gojoâs tongue for purchase. âHave no- fucking- clue-â
âDonât give a fuck-â And he didnât - really, really didnât. The glasses-clad man doesnât think he could even register anything other than the streaming sap your cunt was gushing out onto his tongue, and the way your hole quivered in that way that told him you were close. Again. âJust wanâ you to cum on my t-tongue, princess.â
âHeh- youâre better like this, Toru.â
âShut up and cum.â
Long, ivory bangs soft against the bottom of your tummy with how close heâs diving himself nose-deep. More. Gojo ruts against the cushion of the armchair, knees dragging against the carpet as heâs lunging even further- and he doesnât even notice.Â
âEasy there, gonna suffocate-â
You run your hands through his sweaty scalp, breath heightening. âYeah, you ngh- okay?â
Grunting at the texture of Getoâs own tongue, âMmmmâ no.â Gojoâs classes are completely fogged-up at this point, and heâs only clashing them further. Adding one of his own lengthy fingers past your hole so that he can pump furiously. Both their hands so dexterous. âMuscularis contracting- ngh, even more leukorrhea- wet. Gonna cum- gonna cum gonna cumââ
And thatâs exactly all it takes - the slightest, tiniest bend of Gojoâs stifling digits thumping your g-spot in carnal unison with Getoâs ringed ones, and then youâre reaching your orgasm. For the second time.
Hips fully wrenching off of the dampened chair cushions to push your two boys with a generous mouthful of your candied pussy- one theyâre salivating over gratefully. Repeatedly targeting your favorite spots with their fingers, maws further agape, eyes rolling to the back of their heads.
You can only hit your chin against your chest to take in the lewd, lewd sight of being eaten out by both Gojo and Geto. âSh-shiiitââ Cheeks wet with tears, âNever cum like this- ngh, itâs so- oh.â
âPlease- thatâs it, use me.â Gojo recants back, giving his features up for you to conduct such long, slobbering drags. âUse me, princess- ngh- mâfucking starved. Ohhh, fucking love this pussy. Mâgonna eat you out for the rest of my life, miss valedictorian.â
Smirking, Geto pins your gyratinâ hips down and watches as Gojo blindly whines. Chasing the taste of your cunt just so he can lap you through your wet high. âHeh- youâre damn pussydrunk, nerd.â Turning to you with hooded eyes, your best friendâs making sure he murmurs this into your overstimulated pussy. âAnd youâre dumbified, my cute lilâ pipsqueak.â
Though, itâs not like he was any better.
But before Getoâs forced to bite down on his lower lip and bite back pure whimpers at the oversaturation of your taste, he pulls away.
Painfully, with a final sopping thwack! of his palm coming down to strike your cunt. Your eyes are just barely open enough to make out the fuzzy shapes of Geto pulling Gojo backwards, too, with a hand at his throat.Â
Watching as his lips detach from your pussy with a wet plop! strings of slick scattering all over his maw. Watching as his neat glasses stick to your pussy nâ he has to manually smear them back up his nosebridge, âOi- the fuck do you think youâre doing, punk?â
âWell, you can make out with her pussy all you want, nerd.â Getoâs piercings glint as he pinches his index and thumb into a circle. Sticking his tongue lewdly between that hole, âI wanna fuck it.â
âOhâŠâ You can only ogle unabashedly once the two make quick work of discarding your top nâ bra, then their own clothes - Gojoâs two layers of vests, his formal pants, and Getoâs torn band t-shirt and washed jeans. All in a pile somewhere by your throne of an armchair.Â
They couldnât be more different.
And that went for their hot, rock-hard cocks, too - where Gojo was longer, Geto was thicker.Â
Both oh-so-massive that it has your thighs clenching in both fear and anticipation, you canât help but stare at the way that Gojo was so fuckinâ red that the bulging end of his shaft looked like strawberry. And just as thick, heâs glazing himself with so many layers of slick pre that fall down his lengthy member.Â
And Geto- oh, Getoâs was the sexiest tannish pink at his tip. Covered with so many puffy veins that youâre almost missing the line of a few silver barbells lining his fat shaft. A Jacobâs Ladder piercing - with a studded Prince Albertâs at the very bottom of his thoroughly flared tip.Â
Where Gojoâs cock was utterly pretty and made your cunt water, Getoâs looked like he was about to positively ruin you.
âHeh, thatâs cute.â Your best friend croons, catching both your gaped staring. Gojo quickly snaps himself out of it, hands reaching for your open thighs to-
âAh ah, dibs.â Geto slaps his hand away, and it takes him only a second to pick you up as if you were weightless. All carried in his broad arms - his shoulders were so muscular - to the nearby bedroom and lay you flat on the bouncy mattress.Â
Hovering over you, you take the opportunity to mindlessly gawk at him in a way you didnât allow yourself to before. Everything from the sinful silver piercings that punctured his rosy nipples, to the stark black dragon tattooed across his back and down to his hips- and wait.
Your eyes damn near pop out of your head- right on the left side of his prominent v-lineâŠwas thatâŠa tattoo of your first initial?Â
Geto catches the beeline of your eyesight and muses, âGot it in secret honor of my- ah, best friend.â Leaning in, âNâ youâre gonna feel it reeeal up close and personal now, best friend.â
Gojo calls out as he follows inside, âOi- first come first haaaah- serve. Isnât that right, princess?âÂ
Before you can answer, Geto cuts in- âThen, Iâm first-â Shoving the other man slightly, fighting for who gets the first touch of your pussy on their aching cocks. Getoâs cleanly pushes your boneless body onto all fours, stood by the edge of his bed. â-because you were my gorgeous girl first, riiiightâ?â
âO-ohâ! Yes- I mean no- I meanâŠâ Youâre yelping the very instant his cold, orbed piercing runs lazily down your slit from behind. And you whimper as the bed dips with a creak, revealing Gojo in all his needy glory - pale thighs parted about the length of your head, so towering where he was starinâ down at you through his thick glasses.Â
âYa hear that, nerd?â
Gojo rolls his eyes, one hand smearing the plump pinkish curvature of his cock between your glossed lips. âTch- my princess disagreed. Clearly.â
With a cackle, Geto slobbers his drooling mushroom tip down your folds- making sure that Gojoâs ears burn at the lecherous squeeelch-! thatâs sounding out once he does. And you swear youâre seeing fucking stars by the time that he manspreads his sculpted thighs part and presses his thick circumference inâ
âShit- shit shit shitââ Youâve never been so stretched, and the utter fuckinâ girth of his circumference makes your eyes tear up pathetically. âHow are you so bi- mmmpf!â
If you thought that stretch between your shaky, sheened legs was incredible- then you absolutely werenât ready for the way that Gojoâs barging his prolonged cock right between your gawking mouth. Filling up your hot gummy maw with a few solid inches of his length, he wasnât even bottomed-out yet, and you swear you could already feel him at your throat.
âEasy there, pipsqueak. Eeeasy does it.â Geto croaks out from behind you, shuffling his toned hips ever-so-slightly closer. Just the merest deepening entrance enough to make you salivate.
âShiiiit- dunno whoâs glands are l-leaking more- â Gojo hisses, heavy lids flapping at the feeling of your treacly saliva gluing against the underside of his shaft. âYour pretty mouth, or your cuntâŠâ
And you didnât know either- hell, you couldnât even think at this point.
It was just rendering you so dumb having both your slick orifices plugged up, Getoâs tattooed hips relentlessly pushing in half-thrusts from behind. Gojo clawing on top of your clammy crown and nudging your lolling head down furtherâ
Managing to somehow muffle out, âNgh- hck- so mm-muchââÂ
âYeahhh, as you like it, g-gorgeous.â Something in Getoâs voice shatters the very moment heâs able to slip his rigid cockhead in nâ swab your entrance with the point of his piercing.Â
Usinâ it like some cute lilâ searchlight as heâs pressing the cold metal against the sides of your stretchy walls, scouring down each side of your pussy for that spot of your nerves. The rub of his Jacobâs Ladder was mind-numbing, miniscule knobbled barbells poking tender crevices you didnât even know existed. âWant you and this ngh- p-pretty lady right here nice nâ- happy- and-â
Each word was punctuated by the most probing thrust of Getoâs powerful hips, easing the measurement of his cock inside you with the sloppiest noises.Â
Damn near muffling out your shrills when his pure pressure forces you forwards to pump even more of Gojoâs leaking shaft down your relaxed throat. Deeper. Harder.Â
âAnd taking- this-â With a hand on your hips, Geto reels you in- only for Gojo to scramble a grip on your throat and keep you with him. A tug-of-war. Pushing. Pulling.Â
And the only thing that both can think to do is urge their capped knees closer to you on the bed and split you wiiiide open-
â-biiiig stretch.â Geto finishes off.
Just as he bottoms out inside of your sweltering cunt, your initial kissinâ your skin, just as Gojo scratches the edge of your nose on his tufted white happy trail.
Both of them.
And theyâre not wasting a single second - not even a split-second.Â
Because once your hot, clenchinâ holes have greedily swallowed up both of them, theyâre rutting their hips back and half-thrusting. Not even fully- just half just to feel your heat, the sweet softness of you.
âFuh-fuck, your buccal mucosa just feels sooo ngh-â Gojoâs babbling away, neck still held deftly within his fingers as heâs swervinâ his hips back to dab the very back of your throat with the fleshy circle of your tip. âTh-think Iâm hitting all the way at your ngh- palate-â
Geto rolls his hazed eyes, tugging your hips back to strike your ass cheeks against his toned v-line. Hard enough that your mouth leaves Gojoâs bulbous tip with a pop! âDâyou always needa talk like ngh- that, nerd?â
âDo you always need to be s-so filthy, punk?â The other man snarls, tempting his hips closer so that youâre almost squished between the two.
âMmmââ Geto pretends to think, tapping the point of his chin with one hand, whilst the other smears your ass cheeks open to take a vulgar look at your cunt from behind. And he doesnât answer- not at first, what heâs doing is spitting a cool wad of saliva that darts straightly down to your slit. âHell yeah.â
With a roll of his shoulders, heâs thrashing the globular ends of his reddened, swollen shaft into your deepest depths. And it feels like youâre just melting around him, âSo shut up and fuck, nerd.â
And Gojo Satoru was always first in class - if you werenât, that is - you think he ever needed to be told anything twice?
Nibbling onto his pouty lower lip, Gojo darts one of his carnally itching fingerpads up and squeezes your flared nostrils - already rubbed raw by the massage of his ivory, curly hair.Â
Giggling something drunken as you sputter and choke on his throbbing shaft, âFuck nnngh- youâre a dirty fucking girl, miss valedictorian-â He hisses, heâs spitting through clenched teeth every time the bumpy texture of your tastebuds were rovering down his tender underside.Â
Were latching onto the pulsating lines of his veins, and making him groan. Heavy, pink balls tighening each time they strike-strike-strike your chin, âS-sooo much better with my hah- fat fuckinâ cock stuck between those lips.â
Whining, you couldnât even pant out in wailing gasps each time Getoâs bulbous piercings were crazing your bubblegum walls like a ladder. âF- mm fuck y-â
Squeezing your nose even tighter- âFuck me?â Gojo titters out from above, and itâs almost humiliating the way he blushes as he looks down at you above his pecs, flexing core rippling with each hasty jackhammer.
Mean. His mouth was so mean, and the way his thumb drifts down the forefront of your throat, feeling for that bulge where his cock was driving was even meaner.Â
He could feel himself. Feel you taking him. âY-youâre the one being fucked right now, princess.âÂ
âMhmâ and by me.â And the very second that Gojo lets your nose free to breathe, Geto snakes his clit down to pinch your sopping wet clit.Â
âNo- yes! Please-â Youâre mewling, âClose- I-Iâm so close- ngh-â
Your best friend leans in so close to whisper against the shell of your ear; letting his tattooed pecs glue to your back, lengthy locks tickling the arch of your sweaty spine. Holding on close. Hard. âNo? Close? Make up your mind.â
You can only spit through an open mawââNo- yes- fuuuuck m-more.â
Absolutely ruined, and neither of them have ever seen you like this.
âH-her nucleus accumbens is going into overdrive-â Gojo sputters out, and youâre starinâ through your teary lashes at the cute way his condensation-filled glasses slip down his nose with each battering ram of his ravaged cock. âWhich- hck! which means decreased activity in the cerebral cortex and- and it meansâŠâ
âSpit it out, nerd.â
âSheâs close.â
âHaaah- coulda told you ngh- that.â And, truly, youâre squeezing your pretty bubblegum walls âround him so tight that itâs almost hard for Geto to pull back and forth in repeated thrusts. âGonna cum fâme, pipsqueak? Câmon cooome on- let your best friend hah- fill you up, would you?â
Youâre whining, âPlease-â Heard sparking with whatever jumbled mess that Gojo had talked about and you couldnât even begin to make sense right now. âClose- gonna- ngh-â
âWait- youâre cumming inside fir- fuck!â Gojo gapes, only to hunch his washboard abs forwards and drive into you at the flick of your velvety tongue on his sensitive slit - his favorite. Only to cum- and the sight of you gulping down his milky mess, letting it dribble all down your bobbing throat was so sexy that Geto canât help but lose it, too.Â
Shit- that was fast. Faster than heâd ever been with your panties snugly wrapping his cock and your photograph in hand - but your quivering, wet pussy just felt so good that heâs squelching out his orgasm once heâs feeling yours.
Long, ribbony bouts of seed that were just scalding puddling at the bottom of your pussy- you swear youâre feeling it slosh about inside of you with each tiny motion. Splashing inside your mouth.
All for you to swallow.Â
All three at once, you didnât even think you could cum again before Getoâs giving you a carnal pinch to your clit. âCumâingâ ngh.â Youâre heavily gulping the ivory sap that glazes your tongue, eyes rolling back in utterly stupid bliss. âPlease- oh.â
âNo one taught you not to talk with your- haaah- mouth full, hm?â The man above you gruffs out through a dry gasp, hips sloppy. Chest heaving. Ringed, sticky digits twitching. âNo one-â His breath hitches as heâs feeling your unsteady hips sliiide off of his pummeling cock, âOh, whereâd you think youâre going?â
âNononono- no-â Gojo snarls, properly bearing his glinting canines like he was more animal than man right about now. Tugginâ you back with the hand bruising your throat, âIf mâfucking your creampie then I get to ngh- have her to myself a bit. Open.â
Breathless, youâre lolling out your tongue and gazing up at the way the towering manâs eyes widen at the lack of anything in your mouth. The way youâd swallowed it all. âMâgonna have so much fun this time.â
WaitâŠyour eyes widen. Still jolting bodily with sparking bouts of electricity, your third - was that even the correct number - orgasm wasnât even bating before theyâre talking about the next.
Unaffected, Geto only rolls his eyes- and his fingers over your drivelling slit. Practically turned into a waterfall of his buttery white cum, making you pull off of Gojoâs cock with a hiss at his rude fingertips. âOh, shut it.âÂ
Before either of you can blink- before you can even breathe, your best friendâs stuffing your breaths all the way back into your screaming lungs.Â
All by sticking his cum-glazed finger inside your mouth, swirlinâ that creamy polish into your deepest crannies. âHmâŠyou, too.â And in mere nanoseconds, Geto has his white syrupy fingerpads stuffed inside Gojoâs mouth.Â
âWhat- mmpfââ Your mouthy academic rival just looks so pretty with thick fingers plunged between his spit-glittered lips. Pale brows scrunching together, face red-hot, a thin line of cum trickling slowly down the side of his suckling mouth.
And itâs enough so that your ravenous hips start lurching down the expanse of Getoâs cock- as if to milk him for more.Â
âHehhhâ?â Heâs grinning through his shaggy raven strands at your motions, pulling back his fingers with a squelch. âWhat a filthy girl- stuffed you with so much cum youâre over ngh- overspilling, and you still wanâ more?âÂ
With only your cutesy babbles for an answer, youâre feeling him straighten his muscular core up to face Gojo even more. âSo, you either fuck her wâmy cum inside- or, watch as I fill her up with s-so much of my cum she canât not feel it inside-â
âShut up nâ let me fuck my girl, punk.â
âMmâ thatâs not having the hah- reaction you want, nerd.â As if to prove his point, Getoâs gleaming cock twitches when heâs easing out of you with a raw slurp. Slowly, but surely, he takes his sweet, sweet time to remind you of the pattern of piercings lining his frenulum. âOur girl, you mean.â
Youâre swearing heâs only getting even bigger at the sight of you- draped across Gojoâs thoroughly sculpted front not even a moment later. Your cunt frosted white with his own cum, Gojoâs bulbous mushroom tip bulging your pussylips wiiide open. Impatient.
âOh.â Geto manages to pant out.
Just barely lets himself even breathe before heâs dropping further down the protesting bedsprings, all the way until his hot breaths breeze across your oversensitive pussy in a lilâ âhello.â
Grunting, Gojo tugs your chin back over to face him - resting flatly on his back so youâre trembling nâ limp on his abs.Â
âMmmâ hello, princess.â Heâs crooning out with his deep, rasping voice. And you answer with a whimper of your own at the sexy feeling of his core flexing underneath you, pecs all bouncy in the way they had no right to be.
He was so big - both of them were, Gojo being taller where Geto was broader.Â
Yet, both numerous inches over six feet and sandwiching you with their chiseled weights as youâre settling on top of Gojo. Cushioned over his broad, flushed chest, you feel him cup your sweaty cheek, âHeh, d-donât think you can be valedictorian like this.â
Youâre marrying your brows in what looked like such adorable annoyance to his half-lidded eyes. âMmmâhow are you gonna say that when hck! youâre the one that got pussydru- oh, fuck.â
Fuck, and then youâre promptly shut up by Getoâs tongue slithering slimily between the folds of your pussy. Letting his curly tip lap up every wadded ounce of cum overspilling out of you, âOh, donât stop on mmm- my accounts. Always so cute when yer mad, pipsqueak.â
âI was thinking more hotââ Gojoâs moaning out, bucking- and he was still so rock-hard. So needy that just the slightest slip nâ slide across your outer pussy makes him rut- âFuck.â
And it makes him sink inside, just the slightest push of his thick, rotund crown. Your filthy hole plugs up with his strawberry-pink tip and youâre finding yourself gasping.
âNot gonna help me clean up, nerd?â
âSh-shut the fuck up-â Gojoâs scrunching his brows until heâs feeling dizzy- or maybe that was just the sopping, soft feeling of your pussy. Opening up such a primal part of him once heâs listening to the swampy noises being pulled out, âHer pussy- o-ohhh this pussyâŠyour adventitia stretches so, the way youâre- I canâtâŠâ
Youâd made one of the smartest, most eloquent men on campus speechless.Â
âAnd you call me filthy.â Geto chuckles darkly from behind you, still not stopping. Still letting the pierced muscle of his tongue swirl right near your entrance, each solid inch that Gojo was bullying inside made you leak onto his tastebuds with a splat!
Filthy.
Absolutely filthy. You couldnât even begin to describe the sensation when Gojoâs starting to pick up his pace- to start driving his hips in a back nâ forth that only lets him pound you with half-thrusts.
Shaft so plump that it wonât even fit- heâs arching his slam-reddened hips up from the mattress to push and push and push. âSâmy turn now- my- hck! gonna take this fucking cock, right, princess?â Gojo strangles out, âRight- right?â
Voice pitching higher, unsteadily cracking.
He canât stop himself from firmly planting his two feet spread further just so he can cling onto your hips and gift you direct slams. Deeper.Â
âPlease- s-so biiigâ will it even fit.â
Gojo shoots a prideful glance down at Geto, who only thumbs apart your bruised nâ battered pussylips with a smirk. âOf course, it will.â And youâre jolting at the burning sensation of his ringed thumb pushing inside of your wet hole, just to stretch you out even wider for Gojo.Â
THWACK!
Heâs tittering meanly as the little spank leaves you leaking from the sides of your stretched-out hole, a little trail of creamy white for him to lick down. Frigid orb of his piercing just lightly skimming Gojoâs own tender shaft, âIf youâre good that is, gorgeous.â
âYeah- yeah.â Gojoâs panting out, so drunk on the sappy texture. He felt like your elastic walls were just molding to his exact size, so tight nâ warm. âWhy donâtcha count for me, miss valedictorian?â
âC-count? Satoru, what do you- oh.â
Oh was right- by the way the inches of his cock flinched inside of you. He wanted you to count how many inches he was - and you swear you hear even Geto hum in interest from behind.Â
Smirking to himself, oh, heâs got his mouth open to drool and make such a mess as Gojo starts stirrinâ your dewy insides with the ragged lines of his veins. Pulling back all the way until his rounded cockhead stretches your entrance, âOne- câmon, one.â
âO-one-â Youâre echoing out after Gojo- but oh, even that was a fucking feat. Especially with Getoâs twirling tongue piercing rubbinâ all over your overstuffed slit. Hiccuping, âTwo-â
âMhmâ?â
âThree- ngh- five.â
Geto snickers, âDoes five come after three?â
âHeh, not so smart now, huh?â Gojo lazes his tongue out for you to suckle on whilst you quietly sob at the utter size of him, he just kept going and going. Like it was never-ending, Gojoâs pretty pink girth kisses the very area of your g-spot without even trying-Â
âThen just shut up and fuck me, Toru- oh.â
He does. Oh, you think Gojo could ever deny you?
Bottoming out with an angry jackhammer, âTenâ!â You find yourself throwing your head back with a keen, feeling that shuddering thump of his weepy shaft strike the back of your cervix. Hard. With ten solid, throbbing inches somehow shovelled inside of you, youâre bucking backwards in figure-eights, âTen- ten ten ten- please-â
âMmm, my turn, pipsqueak.â
Stupidly, your maw splits open with a gush of saliva- âH-huh?â
âYou heard me- heh, or are you that fucked out, already?â Geto was just so mean, taking his sensual time to finish drinking up the salted caramel taste of his gooey cum dripping out of you. Until you were all niiiice and clean.
Gojo gives you another few repeated whacks to your most tender spots, almost like he was staking his claim. Eyes narrowed through slimy, slick-sprayed glasses, âOi- you already got your turn.â
âYeah nâ now mâfucking hard again.â Rolling his lavender eyes, Geto tuts at the impatient, sloppy way Gojo was fucking into you. âMake yerself useful and open her pretty legs a little wider.â
Grumbling, youâre oh-so-shocked to find that Gojo Satoru actually does what heâs told.Â
âYou hafta teach me how to do that-â Youâre jesting, only to get punished with another merciless bruise gliding down your cervix.
âHahhh- yeahhh, you know it.â Your best friend nods down at you, âThatâs it. Now arch those hips up fâme now.â
Something like a territorial growl rips from the back of Gojoâs throat as he feels Geto hover onto his knees from behind. Leaning forwards until his silky, Stygian hair fell like a curtain around you two. âNow, wanâ you to count again- both of you.â
Both?
Evidently, the same thing is registering in Gojoâs mind because he squawks- âB-both?â
âYa heard me.â Turning your head over your shoulder, youâre noticing that thereâs something devilish glinting within Getoâs priggish smile. With a tilt of his head heâs pushing his plump cockhead to kiss the entrance to your cunt. Your already-full entrance. âCount. And mânot talking about how many inches.â
You whine, âThen what do you expect us t-toâŠâ
Oh, and then youâre getting it. And Gojo is, too.
Because in that instant, Getoâs drawing that cold, circular piercing of his slit along the outside of your pussy folds. The down Gojoâs shaft, then slipping it inside-
âOne- ohhh-fuck!â It comes tumbling out of your mouth before you can control yourself, and your hips are gyrating back crazily to chase the incredible stretch of a second thick cock entering you. Struggling to. Aching to. âOne, nghâ Sugu, please.â
âAtta giiiirl-â Geto coos, the long locks of his bangs flying as he turns his head to Gojo. âYer falling behind, nerd.â
ââŠâ
With a tut, heâs rolling his hips, âCome on-â
âOh-â Comes out that pretty, pretty gasp from the edges of your spit-glossed lips. Feeling the cold line of Getoâs second piercing - his Jacobâs Ladder, this time - just grazing the treacly base of your pussy. âT-twoâŠ?â
âTwo.â Gojo spits out, in reluctant unison with you as that chilling metal touches his fragile shaft- and he hates to admit that it just made his mouth water.
âTheeere we go.â
With one hand groping the backs of your thighs to stretch you out wiiide open for him, and the other rovering underneath your tummy to feel you bulge with two monstrous cocks- Geto sinks his way inside.Â
Twitching his red, flared tip upwards to bash the roof of your channel once the both of your two below him start babbling in sync- âTh-three. Four. Five?â
Letting his back arch so sensually at the slip nâ slide of your velvety walls, âFuck.â He has to fight to not throw his head back stupidly, because shit- watching your cute circular hole get stretched out so tightly was fucking heaven to see. âCâmon-â Each word, each breath punctuated by a mindless rut to squeeze inside. âCâmon câmon câmon-â
âW-will it even fit, Suguâ?â
âOf course it will, pipsqueak.â
âAs if, punk.â
Geto raises a dark brow in challenge, âHeh- you speak- what- five languages and pussy isnât one of them?â
Face burning red, Gojo only tilts his head down until his bangs cover up most of his face. Enough of playing patience, enough of humping you like some dog in heat- heâs perking his hips up and dragging them in tandem with Getoâs- who only seems to be enjoying the music of your pretty squelches.Â
âMmmâ see?â Oh, those lecherous noises were only spurring him on. The double penetration makes you slurp as if you were greedily gobbling him whole, and Geto just canât stop smiling. âOtherwise youâd know that sheâs just cryyyyyying for-â Bottoming out, initial tattoo gluing to your skin. â-both.â
You gasp, âSuguru, you have six-â Just as he nuzzles his dark happy trail, fully sheathed inside of you and like he never wanted to pull out now. â-seven piercings?â
Seven piercings in all, one at the very tip scraping along your bubblegum walls, and the others massaging up nâ down Gojoâs length. âOnly for you, my girl.â
âMy girl, you mean.â It was a challenge.Â
And Geto takes the bait. âWell thenââ Purring out his sinful words, he leans over to restrain your gasping throat in a headlock. Big, beefy hands cutting off your airway- and Gojoâs dexterous fingers smushing your cheeks together embarrassingly, âTell us. Tell us who you want.â
It comes out a whine- and then a begââMore.â And youâre feeling the way that both men halt, as if your very voice had just shocked them into freezing. âM-more, I wanâ more- Toru- Sugu-â
Well, whatever you wantâŠyou get.
Itâs like somethingâs snapping- audibly, in later hours youâd realize that it was Getoâs aged bedframe, but right now youâre dazedly wondering whether it was the last remnant of their sanity.
Because in such precise unison, Geto pulls his cock nearly all the way out- enough for Gojoâs fattened length to take up every mass of space inside you and bludgeon all the way to the back of your pussy.Â
Reeling back, letting Geto nuzzle his startling metal piercings against your cervix- your walls. Back nâ forth back nâ forth- itâs like theyâre milking themselves on you.
So big that youâre being constantly pumped forwards with each of their thrusts. Being sandwiched between Gojoâs eagerly pumping strokes, and Gojoâs mean teasing.Â
The sheer carnal stretch was just so incredible that you cry out, âO-ohhh, fuck. H-how does it feel this good- sâlike youâre ngh- taking me from the- inside-â
âWe are takinâ you from the inside, silly girl.â Getoâs tittering out, oh, it was just so cute how cockdrunk you were for them that he just canât help but take extra sensually long to rub your g-spot raw with his Jacobâs Ladder. âTaking every inch of you, every spot, every pulse, everything inside this cunt.â
And thatâs when Gojo pipes up, pushing his thoroughly foggy glasses up his nosebridge. âA-according to my calculations with time nâ speed and- ngh, stretch, sâat least triple the- the pressure on your anterior wall and GrĂ€fenberg spot, princess.â
You can only look stupidly along down at the scorched blush covering his cheeks, a slim line of saliva drooling down the side of your chin that Gojo has the audacity to flop his tongue out and lap up.Â
âIn other wordsâŠâ Looking at you with such heady blue eyes- you swear youâve never seen him look more gone. Cherry-pink lips twitching as heâs folding them into a grin, âTwo is better than one.â
Geto chuckles from behind, âNow now, SatoruâŠdonât think our girl even ngh- understands that right now.â With the powerful headlock, heâs tugging you up to look at him instead.
And you donât think youâve seen either of them look so fucked-out. They werenât any better than you.
Eyes wide, mouths parted, blushed the exact same sappy shades of pink as their bulbous tips. Each thump grazing your g-spot just makes your pussy bulge with the sagging weight of them- enough so that you almost donât even hear Getoâs next few words.âMmâ heh, youâre sooo cockdrunk right now, pipsqueak. Whatâs two plus two?â
âT-two plusâŠâ Trailing off, you can only chase their two smashing lengths for more more more. Bawling out just as much as your dripping pussy was right now, âNgh- hck!â
âLook at you, miss valedictorian.â Gojoâs never looked more accomplished- not even during all those times heâd beaten you during a final or quiz.Â
Blowing the sweat-plastered white bangs out of his face, he croaks out- âSâthe only thing you know how t-to ngh-â Hissing at the ridges of Getoâs cock, the way it was just suuuuch a tight fuckinâ fit inside of you, he has to put extra pressure just to fuck up into you. â-t-take both our- cocks, huh?â
Geto drags out a lilâ âawâ, but there was nothing nice about the way he was starinâ down at you. âNow now, Satoru. We should ask-â And he times his slender hips just right, â-dâyou even know your own- hah- name?
âI- ngh- Iââ Itâs just so pitchy how youâre trilling out after each gash of Getoâs thick, split-ended tip. And Gojoâs- oh, Gojoâs was just rapid. Youâre feeling them both probe against your cervix at once, and shriekâ âClose- ngh- hah. Iâm gonna- ohh, Iâm gonna-â
âClose? Sâthat her name, Satoru?â
âSeems so, Suguru.â
Chortling, Getoâs sodden fingerpads find themselves moving from that tummy bulge of yours to your clit. Pinching. âThen, how hah- fitting that mâgonna make you cum, gorgeous.â
âNuh uh, Iâm gonna make her cum.â Gojo hisses- ah, there was that old challenge again. And both are taking it as such - determined to be the first to make you cum.
Gojo with his rapid, half-thrusts that bash your g-spot until youâre seeing stars. And then Geto with the filthily sensual rubs nâ dubs of his piercings that make you drool. Chasing that high. Ruining yourself.Â
Harder and harder- you didnât even know if you could cum again. But it only takes one-two-three more synchronized pumps straight into the deepest depths of your pussy for you to find out - you werenât just cumming. You were squirting.
Body shaking, eyes bawling by the end of it.
And by the looks of it, neither of the two were fully expecting that either.Â
Because Gojo gasps, he flushes- muscular pelvis hitting upwards into yours as he cums, too. Thick, ropey wads of seed that clog up the channel of your pussy, âSh-shit. Shit shit shit- sâtoo much.â
It really was, and it was pouring out of you in hot, ivory bucketloads. So much that you never even thought could be cooped up inside you.
And Geto? Oh, this was way more than heâd ever seen in his wildest dreams- you with your stinging lips chanting his name, and his. âSugu- Toru- cumming. Nghh fuck, mâcumming cumming cumming-â Hips sloshing over sparkly gushes of your slick with each bounce, still sucking him up soâ
âF-fuck.â If any of you were in a better state, youâd have wondered about the way that Getoâs voice pitches. Cracks. About the way his breath hitches when heâs noticing that heâs cumming dry.Â
âTold you.â Youâre shooting him an impish grin.
âJoin the club.â Gojo growls out- but thatâs not what heâs worried about right now. Not at all, his forearms nâ abs were all shiny with your juices- pushing in the wiry knots of cum that sprays out of you like a fountain. âInside- fuck, I need it inside, princess.â
Thighs trembling, you can only watch in speechless awe once Gojoâs taking up the job of webbing your pussy up with his leaking mess. Drawing an unsubtle S-A-T-O-R-U on your cunt all the while.
âSatoruâŠâ Youâre warning, throat alright tight with the feeling of Geto twitching-Â
Still rock-hard.
Still needy.
âW-wellâŠâ It takes him a few seconds to collect his fucking wits - absentmindedly, he dips the crowns of his fingers inside your creamy pussy and draws out his very own S-U-G-U-R-U on the forefront of your tummy, your womb.Â
Possessively, he bites down on the crook of your neck and it felt like you were being impaled by his snake bites. Burning once he guides one of your hands back to his v-line- to his tattoo of your initial. âYâknow what I love about ngh- science experiments, gorgeous?â
âWh-whatâŠ?â Youâre looking confusedly between him and Gojo- who apparently understands way before your cockdrunken mind does.
And so your nerdy rival grins with a push of his glasses. Bucking up, up, up- âThey have twenty-five trials.â
.
.
.
âOh my god- thrown to the wolves orâŠâ
âLook at those marksâcan barely even walk, is that Gojoâs doing-â
âWait- Getoâs right behind, and heâs so closeâŠyou donât think theyâre-â
Youâre fairly certain that a zoo could run through your lecture hall right now and no one would even notice. Not when theyâre oh-so-occupied ogling and pointing out at the bites across every inch of your skin, the hand marks peeking from underneath the hem of your shirt.Â
Hell, a few were even secretly recording- surely to send to the betting pool groupchat. And somewhere in the student body you swear you see Shoko exchange cash with Ijichi. Traitors!Â
Though, to be fair you did look ruined - no matter how much you tried to tug at your sleeves and douse yourself in foundation. Theyâd simply run you ragged last night, if the broken bed, two broken couches, and five noise complaints were anything to go by.Â
And it really didnât help that you had Gojo clinging onto one of your sides, and Geto dangling off of the other. Almost like they were stuck to you with adhesive.Â
They walked when you walked, they sat when you sat. And once youâre settled into your usual seat at the front row, surrounded by the two, you swear you hear Professor Yaga sigh something or the other about ânot being paid enough.â
âI swear-â You start to whisper to the two underneath your breath, âIf we make it out of this alive, Iâm killing the two of you.â
Geto smiles, picking at one of his heavy rings. âMmâ anything for you, gorgeous. A bit kinky, however, no?â
âHah-â Gojo only crosses his sweater-clad arms and leans back priggishly in his chair. âIâd like to see you fuckinâ try, miss valedictorian.â
Dear lord, what have you gotten yourself into?
But before you can open your mouth - or maybe stand up and run out of this hellscape of an exhibitionistic lecture altogether - a low, grouchy baritone drawls from the row right behind you.
And you donât know what youâre more surprised at - the fact that youâre still recognizing the voice of your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna, or the fact that a nationally-acclaimed student athlete like him was attending class when he usually never did.Â
âSoâŠâ Sukunaâs swole biceps bulge as he leans over his desk exactly behind you- and you didnât know whether it was the skin-tight boxing jacket with an emblazoned âSUKUNAâ or the fact that heâd gotten even bigger since your break-up. Everything from the meaty thighs damn near ripping through his sports shorts, to the way he seemed to take up two seats at once.Â
Obnoxiously, he hits the back of Gojoâs chair with his overly-long legs. âYou three fucked. Everyone knows.â
Gojo sputters.Â
Geto grins.
And you canât rip your eyes away from the sheer ripe curve of Sukunaâs tattooed pecs- coral pink hair still damp after training, athletic figure inching even closer as he smirks.Â
âI want in, ma.â
A/N. Slight Part 2 to this but can be read alone!! ALSO YâALL IâVE BEEN GETTING CALLED UNC HERE AND THERE TODAY I CANâT BELIEVE THISâŠ
synopsis â when you and your best friend seiko agree to split a too-big, too-expensive apartment, her hot older brotherâwho you definitely donât have feelings for anymoreâoffers to move in to ease rent. what could possibly go wrong?
wc â 35.4k (never let me estimate my own word counts again)
read it on ao3
warnings â smut, p in v sex (unprotected and protected), fingering, oral (f receiving), making out, brief 7 minutes in heaven trope (couldn't control myself sorry) tiny bit of angst, yearning (ur downbad for him), satoru is kind of a gym himbo in this one, kind of unreliable narrator vibes, afab reader, more inaccurate representations of frat parties and possibly frat culture ^_^
âYou go down there!â
âNo, I already went when I went to get some chips, itâll look awkward if I did it again.â
âOkay, letâs both go down there together then!â
âFine, but youâre gonna have to talk to Suguru on your own, his earrings are scaryââ
âWait but Iâm scared tooââ
You donât wait for a response, already on your way out the door before Seiko can trap you into her nerves again. Sheâs panicking about Suguruâs earrings and his intimidating smirk, and you canât afford to get tangled in her spiralânot when your own is spinning just as fast. Your heartâs pounding in your chest, the way it always does when heâs downstairs. Loud and stupid and unstoppable.
Satoruâs here.
Thatâs the real reason you said yes to coming over today, and you know it. You knew it even when you told Seiko, âYeah, totally, Iâll help you go over functions again,â like you were some loyal academic comrade. She said she wasnât in the mood to start until laterââWeâll just chill for a bit firstââand you nodded like that wasnât the exact outcome you were counting on. He was going to be here. Youâd overheard her say it in class on Friday, casual, âMy brotherâs back for the weekend before his flight. He and Suguru are crashing at mine until Sunday,â and your body reacted like it heard a fire alarm. Instant adrenaline. Sweaty palms. A weird twist in your stomach like you hadnât eaten all day.
Her older brother.
The one who used to help you with math back when you and Seiko were dumb little middle schoolers with pencil cases full of glitter pens and zero dignity. He never laughed when you got your decimals wrong, never treated you like you were slow or irritating. Heâd just nudge the worksheet toward you with a little grin and say something like, âWanna try that again, hm? You accidentally turned your eight into a three.â He was kind. And cool. And way too old for you, even back then. He used to wear big, floppy hoodies with strange anime prints on them, crooked glasses that slid down his nose, and he always smelled faintly like fabric softener and shampoo. Heâd ruffle your hair as he passed by the dining table where you and Seiko did your homework, like you were some tagalong puppy. And every single time, youâd sit there for at least ten minutes after, heart pounding, replaying the exact way his hand felt through your hair like it was forensic evidence.
But he doesnât look like that anymore. Not since the summer after his junior year. Something changed. You donât know what, exactlyâmaybe it was just time, maybe it was something elseâbut when he came back from his trip with Suguru that August, he was⊠different. Taller. Way taller. His shoulders had filled out like crazy, broad and solid under tighter shirts. He didnât wear his glasses anymoreâgot contacts, Seiko said, rolling her eyes like it was nothing. But it wasnât nothing. It changed his whole face. His eyes, already bright, looked sharper, clearer. His jaw had become something out of a magazine, all sharp lines and clean edges. And he got hot. Objectively, unavoidably, annoyingly hot. So hot that suddenly he was everywhere at school. Seniors above you whispered about him in the hallway. Seniors with perfect nails and shiny hair giggled when heâd be in the cafeteria with his group of friends. Even the teachers liked him. Everyone did. Liked him in a normal way. Except youâyou liked him in that humiliating, unbearable, long-standing way that made your chest ache and your stomach twist and your voice go all weird and high-pitched when he so much as looked at you.
You remember the first time you saw him again after the summer. Youâd put on lip glossâstrawberry-scented, sticky as hellâand youâd worn that white, metal supported bra, not your bright, training onesâeven though youâd barely matured enough to form⊠well, boobsâeven though it dug into your ribs and made your shoulders itch. And there he was in the hallway, laughing with Suguru, hair pushed back, earbuds hanging around his neck, and you remember thinkingâOh. Iâm in trouble. I have the fattest crush on him and he wonât even look at me. It didnât matter. You were sixteen now. Practically an adult. And he was actually an adult. Second year of collegeâ physics majorânineteen years old. Except now he was going to this stupid 3 year accelerated scholarship program with Suguru in Japan.
Now here you are, halfway down the stairs, hovering just out of sight with your heart going insane in your chest like itâs trying to physically escape your body. Suguruâs the first thing you seeâsprawled across the couch like royalty, all black clothes and nonchalant confidence. His hairâs tied up half-assedly, dark strands falling into his face, and heâs twirling something silver in his fingers. Probably a ring, or maybe a lighter. He looks dangerous and beautiful, and honestly, you get why Seikoâs so worked up. And thenâthereâs him. Satoruâs on the floor, legs folded in a messy tangle, like he hasnât grown a day since he was twelve, except that he has. So much. His plain white t-shirt clings just a little too tightly to his chest, sleeves hugging his biceps in a way that feels like a personal attack. His hairâs a little wildâfluffier than usualâand heâs wearing mismatched socks, one black, one striped, like he got dressed in the dark and couldnât be bothered to fix it.
Heâs laughing at the TVâsome variety show with screaming and subtitlesâand the way his head tilts back as he laughs, the way his jaw catches the lightâ
Your heart actually hurts. You stand there a little too long, shameless, helpless, your entire body screaming donât look, donât look, but your eyes refuse to obey. You feel twelve again. Small. Invisible. Watching from the sidelines like always.
And then he speaks. To you.Â
âYou creeping or coming down?â
Your stomach plummets. âIâwhat?! I wasnâtâI wasnât creeping,â you splutter, stumbling down the last few steps in a panic, cheeks already burning. âI wasâjust walking!â Satoru looks over his shoulder, grinning lazily. He scoots over and pats the carpet beside him. âCome on. Sit. Youâre just in timeâSuguruâs getting smoked.â Suguru flips him off without looking. âThis trivia showâs rigged.â
âYou just suck at memory games.â
You lower yourself onto the floor, trying not to hyperventilate. Youâre acutely aware of how close his knee is to yours, how warm he feels even from here, how his scent is something minty and expensive and a little too much for your nervous system. He tosses the chip bag into your lap without looking. âHowâd that mock exam go?â You blink. âTheâwhat?â
âMath. You had that calc practice test last month, right?â He glances at you, amused. âYou and Seiko were complaining about it for like a week straight.â You feel yourself short-circuit. âOh. Uh⊠kind of ass?â He laughs, reaching for a chip. âFigures. You always made the dumbest faces doing fractions. Like the paper personally offended you.â You scoff, mostly to hide your dying brain. âWell, maybe if I had a better tutorââ
âExcuse me?â He gasps. âI was the best tutor in a ten-mile radius. Ask Seiko.â
âShe failed.â
âThatâs on her. I saw her bingeing dramas at 3am instead of studying.â
âI HEARD THAT!â Seikoâs voice rings out from upstairs. You all crack up. Even Suguru snorts. And for a moment, itâs perfect. Easy. Like itâs always been this wayâlike nothingâs going to change. But you know it is. Heâs leaving. Heâs going halfway across the world, and this stupid little crush, this years-long secret youâve carried like a favorite book, is going to stay just thatâyours, and only yours. He wonât remember this night. Heâll have new friends, new people. And youâll still be here, sixteen-going-on-seventeen, sitting on the floor of your best friendâs house pretending your heart isnât breaking just from how his knee brushes yours.
Thenâ
âHey,â he says suddenly, quiet, leaning in slightly. You look up, startled. âWhat?â His eyes search your face, like heâs seeing something heâs not used to seeing there. Then he reaches out and tugs lightly on the ends of your hair.
âYouâre growing this out?â Your voice almost fails. âUh⊠yeah?â
âIt looks good,â he says, simple and real, and you can feel your entire bloodstream catch fire. Heâs still watching you. But then the moment breaksâSeiko barrels down the stairs yelling about Suguruâs Instagram story, and everything shifts back into chaos. He turns away, laughing again, and the quiet slips between your fingers like sand. Still. You tuck it away. Into the little folder labeled him.
Because youâll remember this night. He wonât. But you will.
â
ââItâs been three years since that night. The one where your heart skittered up your throat at the sound of his laugh, where heâd tugged the ends of your hair and called it pretty, where heâd looked at you like he saw something there. Or maybe he was just being friendly. You over analyze simple interactions with men a little too much.
Youâd replayed it for weeks. Obsessively, stupidly. Burned it into your mind like it meant something. But time has a way of softening things, even the sharpest crushes. The ache of it dulled as college rolled on, as you kissed boys who werenât him, as you got older and started dressing for yourself instead of wondering if heâd notice. Now, youâre sitting cross-legged in Seikoâs childhood bedroom, half in a blanket cocoon, sipping flat soda out of an old anime cup you both used to fight over when you were twelve. The windowâs open, the curtains swaying with the breeze, and the room smells like spring air and vanilla body mist. âOkay,â Seiko says, her voice muffled as she flops back dramatically onto her pillows, âIâm literally not kidding anymore. If prices of apartments go up by even one more dollar than the current budget Iâm on, Iâm just going to live in the campus library like a cryptid.â
You snort. âYouâd last two nights before you begged for my airfryer and moisturizer.â
âThat is so true,â she groans, throwing a hand over her face. âWaitâwhy donât we just move in together? Like⊠actually. Find a place off-campus. Split the bills. Youâre always here anyway, and you hate your housemates. And I wanna get out of this house already. Like, I need to feel like an adult, statâ You blink at her. âWait, are you serious?â
âDeadass.â
Itâs not a bad idea. You are here all the timeâyour uni ended up being like twenty minutes from Seikoâs family home, and when your dorm got too loud or your brain got too tired, she always had a spare blanket and instant noodles ready for you. Half your stuffâs already in her closet. Living with Seiko wouldnât be hard. Youâve survived sleep-deprived all-nighters, food poisoning, two breakups, and a disastrous eyebrow waxing incident together. An apartment feels like a natural next step. âI mean, yeah,â you say, stretching your legs out on the bed, âIâd be down. But only if I get the good side of the fridge.â
âYou donât even cook!â
âExactly. So I deserve extra space for my stash of thirty minute butter chicken and diet coke.â
âFair point, the thirty minute butterchicken has been one of your greatest finds at the store yet,â she nods solemnly. Itâs easy like this. Girl talk, real talk. The kind that only comes after years of shared notebooks and late-night crying and stupid dances in the hallway. Youâre mid-scroll on your phone, looking up open listings, when Seiko suddenly straightens up with a weird look on her face.
âOh shit.â You glance over. âWhat?â
âI just rememberedâmy mum texted me this morning⊠Satoruâs flight from Japan is today.â You freeze, thumb hovering mid-air. âSeiko.â
âI swear I thought it was next week! But turns out she meant this Sunday, not next.â
âAre you fucking kidding me?â you whisper, heart doing something traitorous in your chest.
She cringes. âSorryyy. Itâs not like heâs crashing in this room. Heâs taking the guest one downstairs.â
âThatâs not the point,â you mutter, flopping back into the pillows like the dramatic main character you are. âI need, like, mental prep. A warning! A buffer zone!â
âItâs been three years,â she reminds you, raising an eyebrow. âYouâre not stillââ
âIâm not.â You cut her off quickly, sitting up. âIâm not. I got over it.â You say it with the conviction of someone who hasânot just because time passed, but because you actually did the emotional legwork. You remember how youâd finally told Seiko about your crush a few months after Satoru had flown out for that scholarship program. It was during a late-night snack runâMelonpan and slurpee in hand, parked outside the 7/11 under shitty yellow streetlights. Your voice had cracked halfway through the confession. âI think I had a thing for your brother,â youâd said, casual in that fake-casual way. âLike, a crush-crush.â And Seiko, bless her heart, didnât freak out or make it weird. She just shrugged and sipped her drink like youâd told her the weather.
âYeah,â sheâd said. âThat was kinda obvious.â
âObvious?â youâd gawked. Sheâd snorted. âYou stared at him like he was a Greek god who worked part-time at Uniqlo. And you got aggressively nice every time he walked into the room.â After that, the dam kind of burst. You ended up telling her everythingâevery humiliating thing youâd done in the name of Satoru Gojo. Like the time you spent twenty minutes curling your eyelashes before a family barbecue, only to blink so aggressively at him that your contact lens folded in half. Or how you once tripped over her cat trying to sprint to the bathroom when you heard his voice in the hallwayâbecause you hadnât shaved your legs and you simply could not be perceived like that. Seiko had listened to it all with a mixture of horror, amusement, and deeply affectionate judgment.
âYouâre disgusting,â sheâd said once, fondly. âBut youâre my disgusting best friend, so I guess I have to love you anyway.â Now, three years later, you smirk a little at the memory. âI was like sixteen,â you say, brushing invisible dust off your shirt. âAnd he was older and cooler and looked good in white t-shirts. It wasnât exactly hard to crush on him.âÂ
Seiko hums. âYou also wore a push-up bra every time you knew heâd be home.â
âDonât slut-shame me for being sixteen and desperate for attention,â you say with a grin.
âYou also practiced putting on eyeliner with a spoon.â
âI hate that you remember everything.â
âYou told me your soul left your body when he looked at your knees once.â
âOkay, now youâre making things up.â
âYou tried to use cherry lip gloss as blush.â
âThat oneâs valid. TikTok taught me that.â Seiko laughs and tosses a pillow at you, and the roomâs full of that deep, cozy joy that only comes when someoneâs known you long enough to remember your awkward era and still wants to live with you. Itâs quiet for a second after that. The breeze flutters in, catching on the posters still stuck to her wallsâold anime prints, boy band photos from your middle school years, a collage of polaroids with all your worst angles and best memories. You sigh and glance at her. âSo⊠what do we do if he actually shows up?â She shrugs. âWe act normal. Weâre adults now. Youâre not gonna combust from seeing his stupid face again.â You both dissolve into uncontrollable laughter again, that warm, stupid haze settling in the room like an old blanketâthe kind woven from late-night confessions and shared snacks, music blasting from your phones, and way too many years of embarrassing stories. And even with all the teasing, the grossed-out big sister act, the ridiculous confessionsâyou know she gets it. Youâre not that girl anymore. Satoru Gojo might be coming back tonight. But youâve grown up. Gotten your heart broken a few times. Learned how to kiss without thinking about someone else's older brother. Youâre not that girl anymore. But you do still kind of hope your eyeliner holds up.
â
The first sign that somethingâs changed is the sound of the door. Not a knockâof course not. Gojo Satoru never knocked in his own house. Itâs the familiar click-clack of the handle Seikoâs parents never replaced, followed by the solid thud of shoes on hardwood and the faint rustle of bags. And then, casually:
âYo! Iâm home!â
Your stomach drops. Seiko, still mid-sip of her Diet Coke, just blinks at you from across the living room. Youâre sitting criss-cross on the rug, wearing a hoodie that may or may not have a bleach stain and socks with cartoon strawberries on them. The TV is paused on some half-watched dating show, and youâre surrounded by empty chip bags and your laptop, still open on a tab labeled apartments near campus cheap please.
ââŠYou said tonight,â you whisper, already scrambling to smooth your hair down. âI thought it was tonight!â Seiko whisper-hisses back. âMom mustâve meant this afternoon!â And before you can gather the scraps of your dignity and disappear up the stairs, heâs already in the room. Gojo Satoru. In the flesh. Three years older. And apparently, bulkier than God intended. He's in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how tight the sleeves are around his biceps. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Forearms that probably didnât look like that the last time you saw him. Thereâs a duffel slung over one shoulder and a Lawson bag in the other. Sunglasses pushed up into his hair.
He stops short in the doorway when he sees you. âOh,â he says, blinking. âDidnât know you were here.â You go stiff. âYeah. Hey.â Itâs weird. Itâs so weird. You havenât seen him since that summerâsince the night before he left for that international scholarship program. And now heâs standing there like no time has passed, like his shoulders didnât double in size and like your brain isnât short-circuiting from sheer secondhand awkwardness. Satoru looks at Seiko. âYou didnât read my texts again, did you?â
âThey were blurry photos of vending machine sandwiches,â she deadpans. âForgive me for not decoding that.â
He shrugs, dropping his bags to the floor with a loud thump, going over to trap his sister into a bear hug, smirking when she squealed and said something about not being able to breathe. âI said I was coming today.â
âNo, you said, âsoon.ââ
âWell, I meant today.â Thereâs a beat of silence. You try not to look directly at him, as if eye contact will cause some sort of emotional combustion. You can feel how out-of-place you suddenly areâsocks on the wrong foot, posture too stiff, heart hammering in your chest like youâre sixteen again. He looks at you once Seiko has scrambled out of his grip, hands shoved into his pockets. Not weirdly. Just⊠like heâs trying to remember something.Â
âSo howâs college? Seiko keeps me updated on the entire experience, but howâve you been finding it? Big jump from highschool?â He asks, voice casual in that way that somehow makes it worse.
You nod. âYeah. Um, good! Nice, I like it. Fun, even.â He raises his eyebrows slightly, impressed.
 âNice. Whatâs your major?â
âPsych,â you say, then immediately hate how your voice goes just a little too high on the â-ch.â You clear your throat. âPsychology.â He nods again, the way people do when they donât actually know what to say next. âCool. Lots of reading?â
âYeah. Um, way too much.â You try to laugh a little, like a normal person, but it comes out thin. You shift your weight. He shifts his. Somewhere behind you, a fly buzzes. âHow was Japan?â you ask, because someone has to fill the silence before your ears implode from the pressure. He perks up a little, like heâs glad for the safer topic. âIt was good. Really cool. I was in Tokyo for the most part, did this exchange thing with TodaiâTokyo University.â He scratches the back of his neck. âThey had me in this physics program for my undergrad, working with some grad students on quantum optics stuff.â
You blink. âQuantum what now?â He grins, and you hate that it's still the same cocky lopsided thing it was at seventeen. âLasers.â
ââŠOh.â
âYeah,â he says, with a self-deprecating shrug. âMostly just a lot of math and equipment malfunctions. The usual.â You nod, because you have absolutely nothing to add to that, unless your psych notes on Pavlovâs dogs suddenly become relevant to international laser research. The silence creeps back in, loud as ever. âCool,â you say, again. Your default setting, apparently. He nods. âYeah.âÂ
You both just stand there for a second too long, not quite looking at each other. Thenâ
âWow, this isnât awkward at all,â Seiko deadpans as she looks between you both, sipping her drink with all the grace of a sitcom character arriving to save a scene. You both instinctively reply, âShut up,â in unison. Which only makes it so much worse.
Seiko just raises an eyebrow at you like youâre the one being weird, and mutters something about grabbing a snack before disappearing into the kitchen again. And then itâs just you and Satoru again. Standing in the middle of the living room. A full foot apart but worlds away. He shifts his weight, glancing around like heâs re-familiarizing himself with the space. The rug. The shelves. The old family photos that havenât moved in years.Itâs weird seeing him here again. Weirder seeing him like this. Older. Bigger. Built like heâs been bench pressing trucks for fun. His hair is a little longer now, swept back lazily, an undercut visible, and his whole presence feels heavierânot in a bad way. Just more⊠there. Same face. Same dumb grin. But it doesnât feel like the same person anymore. And god, this is awkward. He clears his throat. âWell. Iâm gonna shower.â
âCool,â you say, like a robot malfunctioning. And trying not to imagine him naked. In the shower. Water running down his built body. He grabs his bag again, nods, and heads upstairs. Only when heâs gone do you let your whole body collapse back into the couch. Seiko reappears two seconds later with a bowl of cereal. You groan into your hands.
 âWhat the hell was that.â
She chews. âThat was my brother. Looking like a protein powder ad.â
âOh my god, youâre right. Did I act up?â
âYou said âcool.â Like someoneâs dad.â You scowl. âOkay, well you forgot to mention he turned into a brick wall with legs.â
âGross. Thatâs my brother.â
âYouâre the one who said protein powder!â
âYeah, and you looked like you were going to pass out just from seeing his arms.â You huff, closing your laptop screen with a huff.
âShut up.â
â
Itâs the week before uni starts again. The tail end of your well-earned university breakâhalf spent in your disaster of an apartment with even more disastrous flatmates (you genuinely canât even get into how bad it is without spiraling), and half in the cozy, warm bubble of your best friend Seikoâs family home. You still donât know why she ever wants to move out of here. The fridge is always full, the floors are always clean, her parents adore you, and the water pressure in the upstairs bathroom makes you want to marry the plumbing. But there is one caveat to all this domestic bliss. Being in the house of your gorgeous, lovely best friend means now constantly being around her equally gorgeous, equally lovely older brother. Now, to be fair, you said you were over it. The crush. The obsession. The years-long pining that began in childhood and ended somewhere between your first college situationship and your second real heartbreak. Itâs been three years since he left for Japan. Three years since you confessed the whole dumb thing to Seikoâwho just blinked at you and said, âYeah? It was so obvious.â Three years since you mentally filed away every mortifying thing youâd ever done in the name of impressing Satoru Gojo.
(âRemember when you wore that way-too-small bra and couldnât breathe the whole day?â Seiko had giggled. âOr when you put on lipgloss just to ask him what time it was?â
âShut up,â you groaned, face down in her bed.
âNo, you shut up,â sheâd laughed. âItâs endearing.â)
And it was fine. You were fine. You got older. You had experiences. You werenât that girl anymore. But youâre also just a girl. A really hormonal, 20-year-old girl. With eyes. And a pulse. And a deeply cursed memory of the way he used to ruffle your hair like you were some scrappy little sister. So yeah. Itâs complicated. Satoru Gojo has been back from Japan for a few weeks nowâand oh boy, had he made his presence known. The living room and his upstairs bedroom have basically become dual command centers of chaos, filled with overlapping noise and endless energy. Heâs constantly switching between the two, dragging Suguru along for the rideâalso freshly returned and, much to Seikoâs unspoken delight, always over. Thereâs laughter echoing from the TV, loud cackling over dumb reels, or occasional testosterone-fueled howling whenever theyâre deep in some Fortnite deathmatch or FIFA playoff. Sometimes you walk into the kitchen and thereâs a stranger raiding the fridge. Sometimes you step into the hallway and trip over Satoruâs gym bag, which weighs more than your trauma. And godâheâs jacked now. Not like, oh he works out sometimes jacked. More like, I could throw a car if I wanted to jacked. Broad shoulders. Arms that stretch his t-shirts in unfair ways. Thighs that should be illegal in those loose basketball shorts. You hate that youâve noticed. You hate that you still kind of care.
Youâre coping. Barely. One afternoon, youâre sprawled on the living room couch with Seiko, sharing a packet of sour gummies and flipping between bad reality TV shows when the front door bangs open. âBack from war,â Suguru announces, tossing his keys on the entry table like he owns the place. âWe got slushies,â Satoru says, trailing behind him, arms full of way too many drinks. âSomeone help, I canât feel my fingers.â
âOh my god, whyâd you get six?â Seiko says, hopping up.Â
âThey had a buy-three-get-three deal,â he shrugs. âMath, baby.â You linger behind her, offering a casual wave as Satoru spots you. He nods back, all easy smiles and post-gym glow, looking annoyingly good in a dark tank and sweats. His hairâs messier than usual, like he towel-dried it in the car and gave up halfway through. The four of you end up lounging in the living room, Suguru and Satoru on the floor, you and Seiko curled up on the couch. Suguruâs the first to start shit. âRemember when you two used to pretend to be spies and sneak snacks from the kitchen?â he grins, pointing at you and Seiko. âThat was your idea,â Seiko fires back. âYeah, but you were the one who tried to crawl under the dining table and got stuck between the legs of a chair.â Youâre halfway through a laugh when Satoru adds, âShe cried for ten minutes. Thought she was gonna die under there.â
âShut up, you dick,â Seiko says, throwing a gummy at him. He snorts, catching it effortlessly. âI saved you. That makes me a hero.â
âShe only cried âcause you told her cockroaches resided in the legs of that chair and they were gonna crawl all over her,â you say with a giggle. Satoru turns to you, mock offended. âI was building childhood resilience.â You all laugh again, the energy light and familiar and buzzing. But thenâ
Suguru smirks. âHonestly, the way you two used to follow him around like ducklingsââ
âI did not,â you start, horrified.
âSure,â Satoru grins, easy and warm. âYou were like a little sister. Like I had two little sisters.â
Your heart doesnât shatter or anything. Youâre not a teenager anymore. But something still winces inside you. A slow, dull ache. Not because you wanted him to say something elseâbut because that confirms it. All the years of wondering, of analyzing every glance or moment, just shrinks down into a single, harmless label.
Like a little sister.
You catch Seikoâs eye for a second. She doesnât say anything, but you know she saw the exact second your expression faltered. Back upstairs later, youâre sprawled on her bed again, half scrolling your phone, half dissociating into the pattern on her ceiling. âHey,â she says softly, nudging you with her toe.
You blink. âWhat?â She winces, dramatic. âI am so sorry. If the guy I liked said that about me I would simply pass away.â You groan into her blanket. âSeiko, stop.â
âNo likeâwhyâs he so dumb? He didnât mean it like that, I swearâhe just says the first thing that pops into his head sometimes, you know how he isââ
âI donât like him anymore,â you say firmly, sitting up. âSeriously. Itâs not that deep.â But your younger self stings a little. Because now you know. Itâs all been filed neatly into kid stuff. Little sister things. Nothing that ever reached him the way it reached you. Youâre not hurt. Youâre just⊠grounded. Suddenly and irrevocably grounded. Seiko flops next to you, throwing an arm over her eyes. âHeâs an idiot. A weird, gym-rat, physics-nerd idiot. Weirdo. Total weirdo.â
You snort. âThatâs a lot of hyphens.â
âHe deserves them.â
â
The first week of uni starts with a heatwave. Everything feels sticky. Pavement melting under your shoes, tote bags sticking to your shoulder, the air around campus thick and weirdly scented with iced coffee and sunscreen and overpriced cologne. Your phone keeps warning you about the UV index. Every lecture hall feels either suffocating or like a freezer on full blast. It's a miracle you haven't already dropped out. Life feels like it's slipping back into placeâuntil it doesn't. Because now Satoru Gojo is here. At your university. I mean, obviously, he was bound to. Something about an honours year. You knew it was coming. Youâd heard Seiko mention it offhandedly over break. âHe transferred in with Suguru, their credits aligned or whatever, I donât know. Something about physics andâoh my god, are you listening?â
Youâd nodded, but your stomach had dipped. And now heâs just⊠here. It starts small. A glimpse in the courtyard during the week. Youâre sitting cross-legged under a shady tree with your friends when you hear someone laugh loud and obnoxiously behind you. You turn. Heâs leaning against a bench, sunglasses perched on his head, grinning while talking to some third-years like heâs known them forever. His presence is so big. Heâs always taken up spaceâbut now it feels more deliberate. Like he knows it. Like he expects it. You donât wave. He doesnât see you. That should be the end of it. But then it happens again. In the campus gym, where youâre trying to kill time on a treadmill before your next tutorial, and he walks by, all sweat and tank top and biceps that really need to calm down. Heâs fist-bumping the guy at the front desk. Later, you hear one of the girls in your class whisper, âThatâs Gojo Satoru, right? The hottie in that physics thing in Japan?â
Of course he was. It becomes a pattern. You donât even need to look for himâhe just keeps showing up. In the science wing, at the club fair where he somehow ends up manning the booth for the rock climbing society and the anime club. Heâs basically an unofficial campus ambassador by week two. People know him. Your university, for all its massive sprawl and fancy name, is crawling with alumni from your high school. Itâs like a silent, unspoken networkâpeople recognize each other, even if they donât acknowledge it. It means Satoru doesnât have to try that hard. The guys already like him. The girlsâwell. You hear his name a lot. For obvious reasons. Floating through stairwells. Written in notebooks with dumb little hearts. There are rumors, already, that heâs seeing someone from the bio department.
âDid you get that neuro reading done?â she asks one day. You nod, eyes flicking past herâto the quad where Gojoâs tossing a football lazily with Suguru and some guy from your econ lecture. Seiko follows your gaze, then groans, muttering, âGod. He really is everywhere.â You snort. âHeâs like a university cryptid.â
âDonât give him that power.âÂ
You smile. But your fingers twist in your lap. You donât say it, but part of you feels itâlike youâre in the wrong timeline. Like youâre living in the aftermath of a story that never got its ending. Heâs so comfortable here. Like heâs always belonged. Meanwhile, youâre still figuring out how to breathe around the memory of a crush you swore you let go. The closest you get to speaking is when youâre leaving your psych lecture one afternoon, earbuds in, digging for your sunglasses. You bump into someoneâs arm and look upâand itâs him. He blinks. Then flashes you that old, toothy grin. âOh. Hey.â You freeze, smile stiff. âHey.â
He opens his mouth, like he might say something elseâbut then someone calls his name from behind, and he glances over his shoulder. âCatch you later, yeah?â You nod, and heâs gone. Itâs stupid. So stupid. You shouldn't feel anything about a moment that small. But it stays with you, hours later. The heat of the hallway. The faint smell of his cologne. The way your voice felt weird in your own throat. You walk to your next class and pretend your heart isnât fluttering like it used to when you were fifteen. Youâre older now. Youâre different. But maybe some things still live under your skin, soft and stupid and waiting.
Itâs a Wednesday afternoon when Seiko texts you last minute asking if you can drop off the notes from your shared class.
canât believe I forgot my entire folder at yours pls drop it off if u can iâll owe u one xoxo
You type out a âdumbass hoâ and stuff the folder into your tote bag. Itâs not a big deal. Her house is barely a fifteen-minute walk from campus, and besidesâher mum usually answers the door and immediately offers you snacks, which is always a win. What you donât expect is for the door to open and reveal him.
Satoru. Heâs in a black t-shirt and grey sweats, his hair a little messy, like he ran a hand through it one too many times. Thereâs a faint shine to his skin, maybe from a workout, and heâs holding a water bottle like he was in the middle of something when the doorbell rang. âHey,â he says. Just that. A flat, casual hey. Like he wasnât someone who used to give you heart palpitations for fun. You blink, pulse suddenly louder in your ears than it has any right to be. âUhâhi. I brought Seikoâs notes.â He nods and steps aside, letting you in. Youâre immediately hit with the familiar scent of the house: something citrusy and comforting, and now⊠faintly laced with deodorant and aftershave. âSheâs out,â he says, shutting the door behind you. âWent to grab some stuff from the store. She should be back soon.â You clutch the folder like itâs a lifeline. âOh. Cool. I can just leave these in her room or something.â
He shrugs, walks past you, heading toward the kitchen. âYou can wait if you want. She said she wouldnât be long.â You follow hesitantly, standing awkwardly near the dining table while he grabs a glass and fills it with water. Thereâs a quiet tension hanging in the air. Not heavy, not hostileâjust⊠weird. Like youâre both aware of the fact that you used to be on casual, even teasing terms, but now thereâs too much time and space between then and now.Â
âYou want water or something?â he offers, without looking. You shake your head. âNo, Iâm good. Thanks.â He leans against the counter, takes a slow sip. The silence settles again, this odd in-between where neither of you knows how to talk like normal people. Then, he glances at you, eyes flicking briefly from head to toe. âYou used to be shorter.â You blink. ââŠExcuse me?â
âI mean, youâre still short,â he adds, lips twitching slightly. âJust. Less so.â You stare at him, genuinely unsure how to respond. Itâs not an insult, exactly, but it also feels like a trap. If you protest too much, itâs pick-me behavior. If you act like you donât care, itâs awkward. If you joke back, does that make it banter? Are we⊠bantering? You end up huffing out a weird little half-laugh, scratching your arm. âCool. Glad my growth spurt was almost imperceptible.â He actually chuckles at that, a small sound that catches you off guard. âDidnât say it wasnât appreciated. Youâre likeâwhat? An inch taller?â
âTwo and a half inches more,â you correct, instinctively defensive.
âThatâs generous.â
 You roll your eyes and plop your tote bag down onto the chair, trying to play it cool despite the heat in your cheeks. âGlad to know the years havenât dulled your talent for stating obvious facts.â He grins, and for a secondâjust a secondâit feels almost normal again. But then it dips back into silence, and you both shift awkwardly in the space. He drinks more water. You pick at the strap of your bag. âSo,â he says eventually, voice mild. âYouâre studying psych, right?â You nod. âYeah.â He nods back. âThatâs cool. You like it?â You pause, debating how honest to be. âItâs⊠interesting. Not as glam as people think it is. A lot of research. Stats. Trying not to spiral about your own life because of 2000 word essays in the middle of cognitive lectures.â That earns you another short laugh. âSounds about right.â
You look up at him, heart thudding in a weird rhythm. âWhat about you? Japan looked cool from the stuff you posted.â He shrugs, but thereâs something almost sheepish about it. âIt was good. Managed to complete my undergrad, thankfully. Lot of weird hours. Labs. Professors that hated when I was late. Which was often.â You smile, despite yourself. âShocker.â
âI know. Me? Unpunctual?â He gives a mock gasp. The words settle in the air, kind of dumb and lightâbut they cut through the awkward tension just enough that something unspoken slips into place. Like, okay. This isnât the same as before. But itâs not totally broken, either. Still, youâre hyperaware of every breath, every glance. This close to him, itâs impossible not to notice the slight sheen on his arms, the veins on his forearms, the fact that the Gojo Satoru who once teased you about having mismatched socks is now built like a Marvel superhero who occasionally gets mistaken for a Greek statue. Heâs being nice. Not in a flirtatious way. Not in a performative way. Just⊠like a person. A guy who knows you used to be closer, but isnât sure how to bridge the gap. A guy who probably doesnât know you once practiced your signature with his last name in the margins of your math notebook
The front door creaks then, and you both turn as Seiko walks in carrying two tote bags. You both glance at each other, then away, and Seiko bursts into laughter. âGod, you both are so weird. I hate it.â You shoot her a look. âYouâre the one who made me come over because you forgot your notes.â
âOkay, but I had a lot on my mind,â she says airily, waving you off as she kicks off her shoes.
âYou left a folder the size of a small child on my kitchen table.â
âI was in a rush!â
âDoing what? Lying horizontally on my floor and watching edits of Business Proposal?â
She gasps. âThat was for my mental health. You know how much better I feel after seeing Ahn Hyo-seop.â Satoru, still leaning in the doorway with his water bottle, snorts. âNah, sheâs been like this forever. Youâre braver than I am for entertaining her.â You blink, caught slightly off guard, and glance at him. Thereâs the faintest grin playing on his lips, like heâs enjoying this a little too much. Seiko glares at him. âExcuse me? Who asked you?â
âIâm just saying,â he says, casual and maddeningly smug, âif she forgot a folder, you know itâs probably still under a pile of her clothes or shoved between couch cushions or something. Classic Seiko behavior.â You canât help itâyou snort, loud and involuntary, and cover your mouth with your hand. âThatâs actually so true.â
âTraitor!â Seiko gasps, swatting your shoulder. âYouâre supposed to be on my side!â
âOh no,â Satoru says, mock-serious, âsheâs right to switch teams. Youâve been doing this since elementary school. Remember when you swore you didnât lose that permission slip and it turned out youâd used it to doodle hearts all over?â
âTHAT WAS ONE TIME,â she cries, dramatically throwing her hands in the air.
âYou drew Suguru in a wedding veil,â he adds helpfully. Youâre laughing now, a real laugh, the kind that warms your cheeks and loosens your spine. Thereâs something stupidly delightful about the fact that heâs joking with you. Siding with you. Even if itâs at Seikoâs expense. Even if itâs meaningless. But still. A twinge. A fluttery, ridiculous little swell of something in your chest that you stamp down before it can fully form.Â
âOh my god, I actually hate you both,â Seiko mutters, dragging you toward the stairs by your wrist.
âYou love us,â Satoru calls after you.
âNo, I tolerate you,â she calls back.
âSame difference.âÂ
You glance back one more time at him before Seiko hauls you up the stairs. Heâs leaning against the bannister now, looking amused, eyes flicking briefly to meet yoursâand for a moment, itâs not awkward or distant. Itâs just⊠kind of nice. Then youâre being pulled into Seikoâs bedroom, and the door shuts behind you, cutting off whatever weird, fluttery feeling had started to creep up your spine.
â
"I swear," Seiko groans, shutting her laptop dramatically and tossing it onto the floor. "If I have to look at one more studio apartment listed as a âcozy urban oasis,â I'm gonna cry." You snort, lying on your back and tossing a scrunchie at her head. "Maybe we should just live in a van. Free rent. Adventure. Character building."
"Shut up," she says, batting the scrunchie away. "You're too high maintenance to live in a van." You gasp, putting a hand to your chest. "Excuse me?"
She grins wickedly. "You need, like, twelve skincare products and two duvets to function."
"Thatâs just basic self-care," you argue, sitting up on your elbows. "Youâre the one who needs complete silence and two white noise machines to sleep."
You open your mouth to throw another insult when the door creaks open without a knock, and in strolls Satoru, looking wholly unbothered, as usual. Heâs wearing grey sweats and a black hoodie, sleeves shoved up to his elbows. His hair is messier than usual, like he just woke up from a nap or something. You really wish you didnât notice how broad he looks now, or how easily he takes up the space when he steps in like he owns the place.
"Hey," he says casually, rifling through the desk drawers without really explaining himself. "Either of you seen my charger?" Seiko doesnât even glance at him. "Which one?"
"The black one with the weird fray at the end. It's hanging on by a thread but it's my favorite." You shrug from the bed. "Haven't seen it." He makes a noncommittal sound and keeps searching. Seiko sighs dramatically, flopping onto her back. "God, I hate apartment hunting. It's literally the worst thing ever."
"Itâs really not that bad," you say mildly.
"You're just zen because you donât have to live with your parents and have them coddle you about coming home at 8pm," she snaps playfully. Youâre about to argue when Satoru straightens up, tossing something on her deskâsome random cable thatâs not his chargerâand says offhandedly, "I've got a friend whoâs trying to lease out his place near the uni." Both your heads snap toward him.
"What," Seiko says, sitting up fast. He leans lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed, like he didnât just drop a nuclear bomb on your conversation. "Yeah. It's a big three-bedroom. Nice kitchen, close to campus. Think heâs desperate to find people soon." You and Seiko exchange wide-eyed glances.
"Wait, close to campus?" she says, voice climbing in excitement. "That's exactly what weâve been looking for!" Satoru shrugs. "I can text him. Tell him youâre interested." Seiko practically bounces in place. "Yes, yes, please. Tell him! Oh my god, you're a lifesaver." Satoru smirks a little. "Youâre welcome. Bow down to me later."
You roll your eyes. "Donât give him more of an ego, Seiko."
"I canât help it," she says sweetly. "Heâs doing the bare minimum and yet it feels like a miracle." Satoru scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Youâre lucky I even mentioned it. I couldâve just let you two suffer and die in a moldy shoebox."
"You're such a hero," you say dryly.
"Finally, some respect," he says, flashing you a winkâso casual you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Seiko claps her hands together. "Okay, okay, when can we see it?"
"Iâll text him now," Satoru says, pushing off the doorframe. Heâs halfway into the hall before he calls over his shoulder, "Also, Iâm charging a finderâs fee." You grab a pillow and throw it at him. It hits the doorframe and flops pathetically to the ground. You hear him laughing as he disappears down the hall. Seiko flops back onto the bed with a loud, theatrical sigh. "Holy shit, what if this is actually it?" You grin. "I'd be shocked if Satoru managed to help us not end up in a hellhole."Â
The two of you dive back into excited chatter, tossing around potential decorating plans and screaming every few minutes out of pure relief that maybe, finally, the end of the apartment hunt is in sight.
â
A few days later, youâre sitting shotgun in Satoruâs ridiculously new, ridiculously shiny carâsome black BMW that still smells like leather and money. It purrs like a cat when he taps the gas, and honestly, you're a little scared to breathe too hard in it in case you somehow depreciate its value. "Bro," Seiko says from the backseat, arms spread dramatically across the leather, "this is actually disgusting. Why does your car feel richer than my entire bloodline? And thatâs saying something because I am part of your bloodline."
Satoru just shrugs, flashing a cocky grin as he taps the steering wheel. "Ask Dad. Mid-life crisis purchase. Shit happens when you graduate at the top of your class, Sei." You huff out a laugh, dragging your fingers across the touchscreen console, which looks like it could operate a small spaceship. You donât even want to think about how many zeros were in the price tag. The city buzzes by outside the tinted windows, everything sharp and golden under the late afternoon sun. You watch familiar streets blur past, a little knot of excitement tightening in your chest.
Soon, you think. Soon no more nightmare flatmates. No more coming home to overflowing sinks and strangers passed out on the couch. No more psychotic flatmates who think doing the dishes once a week is a favor to humanity. No more passive-aggressive notes stuck to the bathroom mirror. No more coming home to blaring music and weird smells you don't want to investigate. Just you, your own space, peace. You can almost taste it. Seiko leans forward between the seats, tapping your shoulder. "Dude, we're literally gonna cry when we see it. Manifesting washer-dryer units. Manifesting no mold in the bathroom."
You grin. "Manifesting no one stealing my milk." Satoru snorts. "Your standards are tragic."
"Let us dream, Satoru," Seiko says. He just chuckles, pulling smoothly into the parking lot of a nice-looking building not far from campus. It's clean, modern but not pretentious, with a little courtyard in the middle and wide, sunlit balconies. Way better than anything youâd expected. He swings into a visitor spot and kills the engine. "Alright, my buddyâs inside. He's leasing out the place." You all pile out. Seiko practically skips toward the entrance, phone already out to take pictures, while you hang back a little, taking in the quiet street, the trimmed hedges, the general non-crackhead vibe of the neighborhood. The apartment is on the third floor. When the door swings open, you swear you hear angels singing. Itâs big. Really big. Real hardwood floors. Tall ceilings. Massive windows that flood the space with light. A kitchen that doesn't look like it was last updated during World War II. Three bedrooms, a big open living area, and even a tiny balcony perfect for pretending youâre a functional adult with plants.
You and Seiko spin in place, speechless. "This is...this is so nice," you whisper. Seikoâs already got her phone out, snapping pictures. "Weâre gonna die here. In a good way." Satoru leans casually in the doorway. "Glad you approve." You trail behind Seiko as she bounces around, peeking into bedrooms, mentally decorating hers already. Then, inevitably, the real conversation starts. "So, about rent," Satoru says, scratching the back of his neck. You and Seiko both turn to him warily, like two cats expecting a spray bottle. He names the number.
You feel your stomach lurch. Itâs...more than you were hoping. Not impossible, but definitely more than ramen-once-a-day money. More like maybe-donât-eat-at-all money. Seiko glances at you, and you can see the panic flicker across her face too. But before either of you can spiral, she speaks up quickly:
"It's fine! My parents said they'd cover my share for the first three months," Seiko says, waving her hand like it's no big deal. "Graduation-slash-moving-out present, apparently."
You blink at her. "Seriously?" She nods. "Yeah. They said itâs, like, a 'head start' thing. Theyâre even willing to pitch in a little extra for the whole place while we get settledâyou know, just until we find better jobs and stuff." You stare at her for a second, like sheâs speaking another language. "Wait, so... theyâre covering you, and kind of helping me too?" Seiko shrugs like itâs obvious. "Just a little. Like a safety net. They trust us to take over fully after a couple months." You let out a slow breath you didnât realize you were holding. Three months. Thatâs enough time. Enough time to fix your mess of a resume, beg for more shifts, find somethingâanythingâthat paid decently near campus. Maybe you could finally stop living off sad frozen dumplings and caffeine pills. Seiko grins, reading the relief on your face like itâs printed in bold. "Weâll survive," she declares proudly. "You and me. Broke, but beautiful." You laugh under your breath, some part of your chest unclenching just a little. For once, the future doesnât seem like this endless, terrifying drop-off. Satoru watches the two of you like you're some strange species he's never encountered before. His sunglasses are pushed into his hair, and the way his mouth twitches makes it clear heâs fighting a smile.
"You two are so dramatic," he says, shaking his head. "Youâre literally way worse. You threw a tantrum when you found out dad was only paying your rent for only six months," Seiko fires back immediately. "That wasnât a tantrum, dad promised me two years of rent." Satoru corrects dryly, but the embarrassed glint in his eye makes you glance away to make him feel less embarrassed, smiling helplessly. Rich people and their problems. Itâs stupid, really, how something as small as thatâhim standing there, joking like itâs normal, like youâre all still those dumb kids from the neighborhoodâmakes you feel a little lighter.
â
The day you move in feels half like the best day of your life, and half like you're dying of exhaustion. The morning is a mess of cardboard, duct tape, and terrible weatherâhot, sticky, humid. Sweat drips down your back even though youâre barely halfway through loading the cars. Seikoâs parents showed up for a little bit to help, cooing over their baby girl finally moving out, but they eventually left after a teary goodbye (on Mrs. Gojoâs part) and about thirty different "don't forget to eat real food" speeches.
Now itâs just you, Seiko, and Satoru. Satoru, who pulled up in his shiny Lexus and practically leapt out in gym shorts and a loose black t-shirt, looking like an actual paid model for casual athleticism. You tell yourself you donât notice.
(You absolutely do.)
Your crappy old car is packed to the brim, and the front yard is scattered with the overflowâboxes stacked on the grass, a battered mini fridge, a whole pile of miscellaneous IKEA furniture Seiko impulsively bought off Facebook Marketplace. You and Seiko buzz with nervous excitement, running on adrenaline and bad convenience store coffee, practically vibrating as you unload your lives onto the pavement. "This is so real," Seiko keeps saying every five minutes, grinning like she's won the lottery. "Weâre actually doing it!"
You grin back, feeling it tooâthat breathless, giddy thrill of something new beginning. Something thatâs yours. But then reality slaps you in the face in the form of a very heavy box. You crouch next to it, trying to psych yourself up. Itâs your kitchen stuffâor, at least, you think it is. Itâs all starting to blur together at this point. You steel yourself, grip the bottomâand immediately regret everything. The thing doesnât budge. You grunt, trying to shift it with your knee, and that's when you hear it:
A low chuckle behind you. "Need a hand?" Satoru drawls, sounding far too entertained. You whip your head around, heat rushing to your face. "I'm fine," you lie, through gritted teeth, already feeling your muscles screaming in protest. Satoru doesnât even argue. He just strolls over, leans down, andâ
Lifts it. Like itâs nothing. Like it weighs less than your backpack. You stare, mouth slightly open, as he straightens up effortlessly, cradling the box under one toned arm like itâs a loaf of bread. Jesus Christ. You hate yourself, genuinely, for how visceral your reaction is. Your brain short-circuits for a good three secondsâbecause what the hell, why is seeing a man carry heavy things so biologically attractive? Itâs purely instinct, you tell yourself fiercely. Caveman brain. Biology. Nothing more. You absolutely, categorically, do not have a crush on Satoru Gojo.
(Not anymore.)
You huff out a noiseâmaybe a laugh, maybe a noise of despair, youâre not even sureâand scramble to grab a lighter box to follow him up the driveway. Inside, the apartment smells like fresh paint and possibility. The living room is bright, sun streaming through the wide windows, casting everything in a gold glow. The walls are still a little bare, and the kitchen is empty except for a lonely-looking microwave on the counter, but it already feels like itâs waiting for you. You and Seiko move like hyperactive squirrels, flitting from room to room, deciding what goes where, squealing when you realize your rooms have actual closets, screaming a little when you realize thereâs a working dishwasher. Satoru mostly hangs back, ferrying the heavier stuff inside with annoying ease. You catch him watching once or twiceâan amused, almost fond look in his eyeâbut every time you glance over, he just rolls his eyes like heâs too cool to care.
"Where do you want this?" he asks at one point, gesturing with a huge box labeled MISC (HELP) in your handwriting. "Uhâliving room," you say, already bent over digging through another box. You donât even look up. You also donât notice the way the pretty cerulean hues track over your bent over form.
"Say please."
You whip your head up, scandalized. Seiko cackles from somewhere inside her room. "Youâre enabling him," she calls out. Satoru smirks. "Mm, Iâve been lifting heavy all morning. Some manners would be appreciated, sweets." You toss a crumpled piece of newspaper at him without thinking, and he bats it out of the air easily, laughing under his breath.
Itâs easy, you realize, surprising yourself. Awkward in the way all transitions are, but... easy. You catch yourself smiling more than you mean to. Feeling lighter, younger, almost stupidly happy. Maybe itâs the air of fresh starts. Maybe itâs just the high of freedom. You sigh, dragging the back of your wrist across your forehead, feeling the sweat stick and smear there. For a second, you swear youâre starring in one of those hopecore reels you always save at 2AMâthe ones with strangers helping each other move houses, saving stray cats, planting flowers in busted city sidewalks. Wow. What an awesome life. You almost want to cry out of pure cinematic triumph.
"Alright," Satoru says, clapping his hands together once. "You think you two can handle the rest by yourselves? I promised Suguru Iâd try out this new steakhouse thing with him." Seiko pops her head out from whatever random corner of the apartment she was currently fussing over, a suspicious-looking candle in her hand. She pins him with a look so unimpressed you almost snort. "Satoru," she says, voice flat, "your baby sister is moving into her first apartment and you have Suguru on your mind? Seriously? Sometimes I think you might actually have a thing for him." She shakes her head dramatically, huffing as she plops the candle down onto the kitchen counter and grabs a small tote full of your combined toiletries, marching off toward the bathroom to arrange your skincare armies in synchronized little rows. Satoru snorts, a crooked smirk tugging at his mouth. "Suguruâs hot," he mumbles, like it's just a random fun fact, "but heâs really not my type." You and Seiko roll your eyes in almost perfect sync.
"You're so weird," Seiko calls from the bathroom. "Beyond weird," you agree dryly, hoisting another box onto the counter and stretching your sore arms out in front of you with a wince. "Whatever," Satoru says breezily, scrolling through his phone with one thumb. "Youâre just jealous you donât have a Suguru of your own." Seiko pokes her head out again, narrowing her eyes. "Fine, Mr. Expert. What even is your type, huh? You look like youâd go for anyone with a pulse." You snicker into your shoulder, pretending to busy yourself with unpacking a box of mismatched mugs. You donât even have to look up to feel Satoruâs wounded gasp. "First of all," he says, all whiny indignation, "I have standards, thanks." You shoot Seiko a knowing look, mouthing do you? She fights to hold in a laugh.
"Iâm not about to stand here and discuss my love life with my little sister," Satoru adds, dramatically tossing his phone onto the couch like this conversation personally victimized him. He straightens up then, stretching his arms over his head in that lazy, catlike way he always does, a flash of skin peeking between his shirt and shorts. You glance away instinctivelyâbecause you are a normal person who refuses to acknowledge how unfair genetics can beâand focus very hard on peeling the tape off a box. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch itâthe smallest glance he flicks in your direction. Not obvious, not lingering. Barely there. A neutral, casual once-over, like heâs checking the room. And then, in a maddeningly even tone, he says, "Pretty people. Thatâs my type." Seiko groans, dropping a bottle of toner onto the counter with a thud. "You're so superficial," she accuses.
"Am not," Satoru says immediately, grinning like heâs proud of himself anyway. He scoops his phone back up, scrolling lazily, thumb flicking up the screen without real purpose. He glances over at you againâmore obvious this time, flashing you a grin like youâre in on some joke with him. "Obviously personality matters too," he says, like itâs a casual afterthought. "Iâm not trying to date a hot NPC." Seiko snorts. "Freak."
"Heh, best big brother in the world!," Satoru sing-songs. He grins wide enough for his cheeks to dimple, looking so pleased with himself itâs almost comical. Seiko tosses a roll of paper towels at his head. "Get outta here, loverboy. Go on your stupid steak date." "Steak is important to my wellbeing," Satoru says solemnly, catching the roll one-handed. "Iâm a growing boy."
"Youâre hitting thirty soon," Seiko says.
"After likeâ So many years. And Iâm still growing," he insists, already backing toward the door with a shit-eating grin. You shake your head, laughing under your breath as he slips his slides back on and salutes you both lazily. "Iâll be back later to finish lifting all the heavy shit you two canât handle," he calls over his shoulder. "Don't break anything while I'm gone." Seiko flips him off cheerily. "Break your face!" Satoru just laughs and slams the door behind him. The apartment falls into a kind of humming silence. You and Seiko exchange a lookâand then both burst into helpless laughter.
â
So, itâs been three months. You stare into the fridge like it might magically grow a five-course meal if you just look pathetic enough. A lone carton of eggs, a half-empty bottle of hot sauce, two apples that are definitely on their way out, and a single sad yogurt cup blink back at you. You sigh. Deeply. Existentially. Seiko appears beside you, yanking the fridge door wider open like that'll help. She lets out the most dramatic, heartbroken groan you've ever heard.
"Bro," she says, staring into the abyss. "We have nothing." You nudge the yogurt cup with a finger. It jiggles. Threateningly. "I think even the bacteria gave up," you say. Seiko closes the fridge with a thud and slumps dramatically against it. "I'm gonna combust. We had thirty-minute butter chicken twice this week."
"At least it was edible," you mutter.
"At least it was edible," she mocks you under her breath, whipping out her phone and scrolling angrily. After a second, she holds the screen out to you like she's presenting hard evidence. It's a Doordash receipt for forty dollars. For butter chicken. Again. You grimace. "Iâm gonna be paying that off in my next life." Seiko growls under her breath and without another word, speed-dials her brother. You hear the faint ringtone buzzing and thenâ
"What now?" Satoru answers, sounding halfway amused, halfway put-upon. "If you're on your way back from campus, you need to stop by here first," Seiko says, cutting straight to the point. "Emergency." Satoru laughs, but itâs more out of habit than actual amusement. "What, you finally broke the toilet?" You lean closer to the phone. "Worse. Weâre starving."
"Oh my god," he says, deadpan. "I'm serious," Seiko insists. "We have, like, apples and eggs. Thatâs it."
"Protein and fiber, sounds like a win to me."
"Satoru."
He sighs like youâre both his problem children. "Fine, fine. Text me what you want."
"Just food," Seiko says dramatically. "Literally anything. I'm not picky. I would eat wet cardboard right now." You yell, "Preferably not wet cardboard!" in the background. Satoru chuckles under his breath. "Alright, Iâll swing by. Try not to eat each other while Iâm gone." He hangs up without waiting for a goodbye. Seiko flops onto the couch with the weight of a war veteran. "He's our only hope." You slide down next to her, feeling your stomach physically gnawing at itself. "God help us."Â
Twenty minutes later, the front door swings open and Satoru strolls in like heâs just returned from a victorious hunt, two giant plastic bags dangling from his hands. "You guys owe me," he says, kicking the door shut behind him. "We owe you our lives," Seiko says gravely, already diving for the bags. You help him unload: a greasy box of yakisoba, a pepperoni pizza, fried chicken skewers, random sushi rolls, andâbecause of course he wouldâa pack of Hi-Chew candies. "God bless you," you tell him, mouth watering as you tear into a box. "You're welcome," he chirps, dropping onto the couch and slinging an arm across the back like he owns the place. For a few blessed minutes, the apartment is filled with nothing but the sound of wrappers crinkling and food being demolished. Seiko leans back after her second slice of pizza, groaning like she just got hit by a bus. "Rent is killing us," she mumbles around a mouthful of yakisoba. You nod, wiping your fingers on a napkin. "Literally murdering us. I think my bank account cried blood this morning." Satoru raises an eyebrow. "You guys just hit month four, huh?"
"Yup," Seiko says, popping the "p." "Dear parents cut me off like they said they would. I'm officially a broke, independent woman now." You throw your hand up for a high five and she smacks it. "At least you're employed," Satoru says, pointing a fry at you. "Kinda."
"Gee, thanks," you deadpan. He shrugs, shameless. "I'm just saying. Adulting is rough, bro." Seiko pokes at her plate, looking more dramatic by the second. "I don't even have an adulty enough job yet. I just pick up whatever shifts I can. And our rent is like a guillotine over my neck."
"Same," you say. "Except the guillotine is made of student loan bills." Satoru laughs under his breath, head tipping back against the couch. He looks way too relaxed for someone still technically in the trenches of his honours year. You narrow your eyes at him. "You don't seem stressed at all." He shrugs again. "I'm moving soon, actually." You and Seiko both sit up straighter, suspicious. "Moving?" Seiko repeats. "Why?" Satoru rolls a fry between his fingers, like he's thinking about it. "My place sucks. No city view. I'm over it." You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Thatâs fair." You deadpan, hoping his brain functions enough to realise that he sounds really out of touch with reality right now. "I want something higher up," he says, waving a hand vaguely. Of course the dumbass doesnât pick up on it. "Somewhere with a view, maybe a balcony."
"Must be nice," Seiko grumbles. "Manifesting," Satoru says, flashing her a peace sign. There's a beat of silence, all three of you chewing or sipping sodas, and then Satoru looks up at you two, slow and casual. "You know," he says, tone maddeningly light, "you do have a third bedroom here." You and Seiko glance at each other. Then back at him. Then back at each other again. "Youâre joking," Seiko says flatly. Satoru grins. "Dead serious."
"You wanna move in with us," you say, like you're trying to process it out loud. "I mean," he says, shrugging like itâs the most obvious thing in the world, "cheaper rent for all of us. You two stop struggling. I get outta my hellhole. Win-win." Seiko puts her pizza down, brows furrowed. "You wouldnât be, like... annoyed?"
"By what, living with you guys?" He smirks. "I've tolerated you for twenty years, Seiko. I think I can survive." You lean back, studying him. "You sure? Itâs not just, like, random strangers across the hall. Youâd actually have to live with us." Satoru lifts his arms, draping them across the back of the couch. "Iâm fine with it. Long as I get dibs on one of the bigger bathrooms." Seiko narrows her eyes. "No way, Iâm not sharing the tiny one."
"First come, first serve," Satoru sing-songs. "Thatâs not how the saying works, we were here before you regardless!" Seiko argues. You laugh, shaking your head. "He'll just barge into whatever bathroom he wants anyway."
"Exactly," Satoru says, grinning wide. "Might as well make it official." Another silence stretchesâthis one heavier, but not uncomfortable. You glance around at the cluttered, half-furnished apartment. The cheap couch. The stacked textbooks on the counter. The faint smell of fried chicken hanging in the air. The way Satoru looks sitting here, like he already belongs. You share a look with Seiko. You both nod, tiny and almost at the same time. "Alright," Seiko says, picking her pizza back up. "Youâre in." Satoru cheers under his breath, pumping a fist like he just won something huge. You barely even register the words leaving Seikoâs mouth â Youâre in â before a weird, fluttery rush lights up in your chest.
Living with you. Satoru. Living here. Sharing a space. A bathroom. A kitchen. A couch. Seeing him stomping around in sweats and a compression t-shirt. Probably leaving the fridge door open. Probably pumping weights in the living room (hopefully). Probably existing. Constantly. You could go into an extreme probability crisis right now. Your brain scrambles, short-circuiting at the images itâs pulling out like some deranged PowerPoint presentation. You squash it down instantly, ruthlessly. No. Absolutely not. This is fine. Youâre fine. You donât care that heâs attractive. Thatâs just biology. Itâs science. You're immune. Fortified. Bulletproof. You pick up a slice of pizza and chomp into it aggressively, as if you can physically chew through the ridiculousness in your own head. Across from you, Satoru just lounges back against the couch, already looking way too at home â laughing at something Seiko says, his stupidly pretty profile catching the light. Your stomach does a small, unnecessary somersault. You blame the hunger. And capitalism. And the universe. Anything but yourself.
â
It starts with the sound of his key jangling in the door like itâs always belonged there. Youâre on the couch, legs tucked under you in the same pajama pants youâve worn three nights in a row, when it clicks open and he steps in â arms full of shit. Like, actual shit. Not even boxes. Just random crap. A pair of beat-up Nikes dangling off two fingers, an expensive backpack that looks like itâs been dragged through five years of war, a stupid Luffy pillow slung under one arm, and a tote bag that says Hotter Than Your Ex, Better Than Your Next in neon pink font. Seiko barely blinks. âYou couldnât use a box like a normal person?â Satoru just kicks the door closed with his heel and grins. âWhereâs the fun in that?â Itâs⊠real. This is happening. Satoru Gojo â your best friendâs annoying, stupidly hot older brother â is now your roommate. A fact that has not yet fully sunk in despite your best efforts to emotionally detach. You glance toward the hallway where the third bedroom has been sitting empty. Clean. Neutral. Ready. Itâs his now. Thatâs his room now. And of course, within thirty minutes, heâs already got his crap everywhere. Thereâs a half-unpacked duffel bag in the entryway. A pair of sunglasses you swear youâve seen him wear inside nightclubs sitting on the kitchen counter. An open Red Bull can next to the sink. A hoodie draped over the back of one of the dining chairs like he owns the place. His smell â some ridiculous overpriced cologne mixed with his laundry detergent â is wafting through the apartment like heâs been here for days instead of forty-five minutes. Heâs not even trying to be annoying. Itâs just⊠him. Loud, effortless, omnipresent him. And when he finally dumps himself on the couch next to you, legs sprawled and hair a little tousled from hauling stuff upstairs, he sighs like he just clocked out of work.
âGod,â he mutters, cracking open a soda. âMy old apartment sucked. This placeâs light is so much better. My plants are gonna lose their minds.â You blink. âYou have plants?â
âYeah,â he says, as if itâs obvious. âI have a monstera named Dog. And this succulent Geto gave me but itâs like⊠almost dead, so we donât talk about her.â
ââŠI didnât know you were a plant guy.â He glances at you, smug. âI contain multitudes.â From the hallway, Seiko yells, âYou contain trash. Come get your crap out of the entryway before I put it all in a black garbage bag and throw it off the balcony.â
âLove you too,â he calls back lazily, then looks at you and grins. âSo. Roomies now.â God. Roomies. You donât even know what to do with yourself. Because this isnât some sitcom. Itâs not all fun and awkward hijinks. Itâs the reality of him being around all the time. Late night cereal runs. Passing each other in the kitchen in weird pajamas. Accidentally hearing him sing to himself in the shower. Seeing him shirtless. Probably way too often. And you tell yourself, very seriously, that it means nothing. Itâs all cool. Youâre an adult. You donât care. Youâre not fifteen and hopelessly in love with his dumb pretty face anymore. But when he reaches behind you to grab the remote, warm arm brushing yours, rings clinking against the plastic of the controller, his cologne curling into your brain like smokeâ
Yeah. Youâre not surviving this lease emotionally intact.
There are, undeniably, perks to living with Satoru Gojo. First off, the rent. Youâre paying less now â which is everything. That extra couple hundred a month? Thatâs groceries. Thatâs less existential dread. Thatâs the occasional iced coffee without hating yourself for buying it. Itâs not glamorous â you still have to split utilities and sometimes get a little too creative with how long groceries can stretch â but youâre no longer crying every time your bank app loads. Small victories. But then thereâs also⊠him. Not in a weird way. Not like youâre in love with him again. Youâve made that very clear to yourself. Itâs just that â he exists loudly. Satoruâs presence is hard to ignore. Even when heâs not saying anything, heâs still there. Shirtless half the time because he âruns hotâ (which is just his excuse to wander around looking like a Calvin Klein ad), hair always messy, a faint smell of whatever stupid expensive aftershave heâs wearing that day lingering behind him. You do your best not to look. You donât always succeed. It doesnât help that he goes to the gym at ungodly hours of the morning and comes back looking like something out of a fitness TikTok thirst trap. Hoodie tied around his waist, shirt sticking to his chest, headphones around his neck and a bottle of neon blue liquid in his hand like heâs sponsored by Gatorade. Seiko never comments on it â mostly because sheâs used to him. She grew up with the guy. You did too, technically, but thereâs a big difference between being fifteen and being twenty-one and seeing him towel off sweat in the kitchen while asking if either of you finished the oat milk.
The second major perk? The car. You no longer have to stress about trains or getting soaked in surprise rain while walking to the bus stop. Satoru, as rich kid as ever, insists on driving all three of you to uni every morning. Heâs not even annoying about it â itâs just what he does. One honk, and you and Seiko pile into the passenger and back seat respectively, the AUX already queued up. Itâs stupidly convenient. You didnât realize how much money public transport drained from your budget until you stopped using it. You still keep your bus pass topped up for emergencies, but itâs basically become a backup plan. Now, you just show up to class on time and dry, with Satoru occasionally handing you a leftover donut from his morning coffee run like heâs Godâs gift to women.Â
Which brings you to the third perk: the food. Satoru and Suguru have this thing where they eat out like every second night. Youâre not sure if itâs because they canât cook or if itâs just rich kid indulgence â but either way, you benefit. They always order too much. And they always bring back leftovers. So now, your fridge has a semi-permanent corner filled with half-eaten yakisoba, overpriced vegan cupcakes, gyoza from a food truck that Geto swears is life-changing, and once â a whole tub of cinnamon sugar popcorn from a rooftop cinema they randomly ended up at. Itâs not the healthiest lifestyle, but youâre broke, tired, and too emotionally drained to cook half the time anyway, so you donât complain. You and Seiko split it like war rations. Half a bao bun each. One cold gyoza thatâs microwaved and devoured like itâs gourmet. A shared spoon of caramel pudding.
âLiving the dream,â Seiko says one night, holding a lukewarm slice of truffle pizza like itâs holy communion. âYouâre so dramatic,â Satoru says around a bite of strawberry mochi. You donât answer, mostly because your mouth is full and also because youâre trying to avoid making eye contact with him in that damn grey tank top again. So yeah. Life with Satoru in the apartment is a little chaotic. A little loud. Full of dumb inside jokes and stolen food and last-minute Target runs. Sometimes he sings in the shower. Sometimes he talks to Seiko too loudly while sheâs trying to nap. Sometimes he leaves his socks in the hallway or accidentally takes your phone charger. But heâs a familiar presence. Heâs not unknown, which is the best part of having him in the apartment, and heâs always been a constant in both of your guysâ lives. So it makes everything worth it.
â
The physics wing feels different from the rest of campusâcleaner, somehow quieter, with that sharp antiseptic scent that clings to air-conditioned labs and too many equations floating in the air. Youâve never had much reason to be down here. The last time you stepped foot near this building was maybe during orientation week when you and Seiko were trying to figure out where the vending machines were. Now, a few months into the semester, you stand awkwardly at the glass doors of one of the labs, peering through to where a group of grad students crowd around a table. Thereâs buzzingâlow voices, a light laugh, the sound of a wheely chair screeching slightly as someone scoots back. You spot him instantly. White hair disheveled like heâs been running his hand through it, sleeves rolled up, safety goggles hanging around his neck, leaning slightly over a notebook as he points something out to a guy beside him. God, he looks hot. But like, academically hot. Like the kind of guy you'd see in a random STEM girlâs Pinterest board titled "study aesthetic." You suddenly feel out of place in your hoodie and backpack, clutching your phone like a lifeline. Then someone notices youâof course itâs a girl. Tall, pretty, good skin, expensive earrings, and sheâs nudging Satoru with her elbow and going, âHey, I think one of your fangirls is here.â Your stomach drops. Fangirl? Satoru looks up, squints a little through the glass, then when he sees itâs you, he snorts. âNah,â he says loud enough for you to hear through the cracked-open door. âSisterâs best friend.â You offer a sheepish wave as the door opens a little more. He slides his notebook off the table and steps out into the hallway with you, all casual like he doesnât notice the way youâre trying not to internally combust. âShit,â he says, rubbing the back of his neck. âI completely forgot I was supposed to take you two home today. Whereâs Seiko?âÂ
âGroup project,â you mumble. âTheyâre finishing something up in the studio.â
âRight. Studio kids. Always acting like the world will end if their poster isnât trimmed perfectly.â He waves back toward the lab, calling out, âTell Suguru Iâll text him about the readings. And tell Reina and them Iâll probably be at that party next week if I donât crash out before then.â Someone inside laughs. âWeâll believe it when we see it!âÂ
Satoru rolls his eyes and then turns back to you. Youâve already started walking, and he falls into step beside you. The hallway is narrow, and when he shifts slightly to let a TA pass by, his hand grazes your lower back in that absentminded wayâjust a half-second of touch, but enough to send your brain short-circuiting. You pretend it didnât happen. Youâre fine. This is fine. âYou didnât have to come all the way down here, yâknow,â he says as you both walk. âCouldâve just texted me again.â
âI did,â you say. He pulls out his phone, blinking at the screen. â...Oh. I have like thirty unread messages. Seikoâs been sending TikToks again.â You huff a laugh. âYeah, youâre doomed.â
âI am,â he agrees, letting the door swing open for you as you step outside. The afternoon sun hits both of you, and itâs quieter out here, more open. A weird kind of silence falls between you for a secondânot uncomfortable, but almost charged. Youâre aware of everything. The distant chatter of students. The shift of your backpack against your shoulders. The way heâs walking just a little slower than you now, like heâs letting you lead the way. You canât stop thinking about the fangirl comment. Is he that popular that he has a whole fanclub? Does that kinda shit even happen in universities? This feels too much like a shoujo anime. Or the way he so casually said sisterâs best friend. Like thatâs all youâve ever been. Like itâs that simple. (And it is. You tell yourself it is.) Still, when he nudged you gently toward the passenger side of his car, casually tossing his bag into the backseat, you wonder if that half-second of contact had lingered for him at all.Â
Probably not. You buckle in. He turns on the engine. The ride starts off quiet in the way late afternoons tend to be. The skyâs a mellow kind of gold, filtering in through the windshield, painting warm lines across the dashboard and your knees. The hum of the engine is low, steady, filling the silence with something that doesnât need to be spoken over. Satoru drives like he does everything elseâlazily confident. One hand on the wheel, the other resting against the door, fingers drumming to some rhythm only he hears. Youâre scrolling through your phone half-heartedly, trying not to look obvious about sneaking glances at him. His profile in this lighting is unfair. Hair tousled like heâs been running it through his hands again, jaw a little sharp with the way heâs biting the inside of his cheek. And his arm, the one holding the wheel, flexes just enough with every turn and adjustment to make your brain short-circuit all over again. Not that it matters. Not that youâre thinking about it. Definitely not.
âSo,â he says eventually, tone casual. âDid you end up getting paired with the group of doom or the semi-decent humans for that one communications elective you chose?â You blink, then groan dramatically. âOh, the group of doom, hands down. Iâve basically become the parent. I write things in our doc and then go delete them hours later because no one else is contributing and I donât want to look like Iâm trying too hard.â
âThatâs brutal,â he says, wincing in sympathy. âHonestly, the whole group work concept should be illegal. Like, I didnât sign up to babysit strangers who forgot what Google Drive is.â You snort. âPreaching to the choir.â He taps his fingers along the wheel, turning the car down the side road toward your neighborhood. âWe had this one guy last semester who literally submitted his part of our lab report as a picture of handwritten notes on lined paper. With a Dorito fingerprint on it. I swear to god.â
Your jaw drops. âNo. Youâre lying.â
âI wish I was. Suguru and I sat in a lab for three hours rewriting it while our TA walked around behind us like we were criminals.â
âYou and Suguru sound like the worst combination,â you say, laughing. âToo much brain power. No accountability.â
Satoru smirks. âYou say that like itâs a bad thing.â
âIt is when Iâm struggling to remember what APA formatting is and you two are running a science empire.â
âIâm more of the face of the brand,â he says modestly. âSuguru does the actual work.â The car slips into silence again, this time a little softer. The kind that fills up with quiet comfort. You glance down at your phone again. No new messages from Seiko yet, just a screenshot she sent earlier of some random overpriced candle she found at the campus market, captioned smells good should i get? lmk.
âStill no update from her?â Satoru asks, glancing over.
âNah,â you say. âI think her groupâs holding her hostage.â
âSheâll claw her way out. Probably with a monologue about art and justice.â You giggle, and then you both fall quiet again, but this time it lingers. You glance sideways at him. Heâs driving one-handed again, but heâs leaning a little more now, elbow resting on the window like heâs relaxedâlike you being here isnât strange or unexpected. You shift slightly in your seat, clearing your throat. âThat girl earlier,â you say, not looking at him. âShe called me one of your... fangirls.â
Satoru glances over, caught slightly off guard. âYeah,â he says, then smiles. âSheâs just being annoying. I donât have fangirls.â You raise a brow. âDidnât that one video of you go viral during university orientation and everyone on tiktok was asking which university this was so that they could come here?â
âOkay, correction. I donât claim the fangirls.â You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. âThe Gojo name has power, huh?â
âI mean... I am tall, conventionally attractive, decent at physics, and have a sexy ass car,â he lists off, counting on his fingers with a smirk. âItâs a hard combo to resist.â
You scoff. âYou forgot âhumble.ââ
âOh, right, yeah. And humble,â he adds, laughing. Another beat passes. The street outside blurs with quiet houses and kids walking home from practice, and you almost forget what started this whole train of thought. But then, without thinking, you say it: âIt didnât bother me. The fangirl thing.â He glances at you again, more carefully this time. âGood,â he says after a second, voice softer. âWouldnât want you to think Iâm embarrassed of you hanging around me or anything.â Youâre not sure what to do with that. So instead, you change the subject. âDo we have anything at home to eat?â you ask. âOr should I mentally prepare for a dinner of peanut butter straight out of the jar?â
âI think Seikoâs got some questionable microwave rice and like... a rogue banana,â he says thoughtfully. You groan. âWeâre going to die.â
âIâll stop by the corner place,â he offers. âGrab some katsu curry or yakisoba or something. You like those?âÂ
You nod quickly. âLove them. Bless you.â Satoru grins. âTold you Iâm useful.â He pulls into the parking lot of the hole-in-the-wall place thatâs somehow cheaper than anything on UberEats, and just before he gets out, he pauses and looks over at you again. âYou sure youâre okay with this?â he asks.Â
âWith what?â You ask, looking thoroughly puzzled. He shrugs. âMe. Driving you. Being around. Existing in your apartment. I understand if itâs like weird with your best friendâs older brother just being around you all the timeââ
You blink. âYou live with us now, Satoru. Itâs a little late to ask if itâs okay.â He laughs and opens the door, stepping out. âFair enough.â You watch him disappear into the little restaurant, humming to yourself and feeling... weirdly calm. (But your chest feels warm anyway.)
â
The takeout bags rustle as Satoru unlocks the apartment door (somehow) with his elbow, a practiced motion at this point. Youâve each got one in your hands, plastic warming your palms through the handles, the smell of fried noodles and katsu curry already seeping through like sweet, spicy comfort. The elevator ride up had been quietâat least in the way that being near him always hums with an odd undercurrent. Satoru had been scrolling on his phone, probably checking something stupid Suguru sent him, when his arm nudged against your shoulder. Not aggressive, just a bump. But it lingered for a second too long, a lazy sway of his weight into yours, like he forgot you were shorter, smallerâmore affected by that kind of touch than he was. You hadnât said anything. Just swallowed it and stared ahead at the doors like your reflection in the brushed steel held the answers. Now, stepping into the apartment, itâs dark except for the thin line of city light pouring through the blinds and cutting across the floor. You toe your shoes off while he moves to the counter and drops the food with a sigh. âI swear this bag's leaking teriyaki oil all over my hand,â he mutters. Youâre still standing there by the door, holding your bag like itâs something delicate, looking at the room a little longer than necessary. Itâs quiet. Seikoâs still not back. The hum of the fridge is the only sound besides Satoru rustling through a drawer. And suddenly, for no reason at all, you think:
What if it was just us? The apartment feels different like this. Dim and soft. You can picture it so clearlyâhim coming home later than you do, shrugging out of his hoodie and tossing his keys on the counter, looking exhausted but smug from some lab win, shoes half on, hair wind-swept and eyes heavy with it. You imagine asking him how his day was, and heâd just lean back against the wall and say something dumb like âmiss me?â before smirking and stealing food off your plate. You picture him walking past you in a towel after a showerâwet hair dripping onto his shoulders, water glistening down his chest, or maybe you both could shower together, or maybe heâd be the type to bend you over every piece of furniture in the houseâand you have to blink, hard, because now youâve accidentally spiraled into something bordering on indecent and youâre still holding katsu curry in a dim kitchen while heâs three feet away. Jesus Christ. You set the food down quickly, trying to physically shake the thought away as you move toward the cabinets. âPlates?â you ask, clearing your throat. âTop left,â he answers without looking up, still fiddling with sauce packets like theyâre puzzle pieces. You reach up to the shelf, stretching on your toes a little. The cabinet is just barely out of reach, your fingers grazing the edge of a plate but not able to actually grab one. You mutter a quiet, annoyed âfuckâs sakeâ under your breath, just as the warmth of a body steps up behind you. You donât even have time to turn.
Thereâs a snicker by your ear. âNeed help, sweets?â You hate that your entire body reacts before your brain does. His chest brushes your back as he casually reaches around you, arm flexing as he grabs the stack of plates with ease. His hips press lightlyâtoo lightly to be on purpose but too present to be ignoredâinto your ass as he leans in. Just a half-second of his weight against yours and your whole bloodstream short-circuits. Heâs so close. So casually, blissfully unaware of how much youâre spiraling again. âGot it,â he says, voice smooth with amusement. âThanks,â you manage to squeak, completely not like yourself. He places the plates down on the counter with one hand and then leans forward just slightly so he can look at you over your shoulder. âYou good?â he asks, smiling a little too knowingly. âFine,â you say quickly. âTotally fine.â You take one of the plates and focus very hard on opening the takeout boxes like your life depends on it, even though your pulse is doing jumping jacks and your head is screaming get it together. He just hums behind you, like heâs not noticing the complete inner meltdown happening a foot away, and grabs two chopsticks and a fork from the drawer. âSeiko said sheâll be home in like twenty,â he says casually, scrolling through his phone again and settling into one of the bar stools. âGroup finally let her escape.â
You nod, handing him one of the boxes. He smiles and takes it, eyes on the screen, and says around a bite of yakisoba, âIf you want more curry than rice just take mine. I like it drowned.â You stare at him for a secondâjust⊠stare. The stupid hair. The lazy voice. The soft lighting that makes the corners of his face look gentle. God. Living with him might actually kill you.Â
â
Itâs barely noon and the apartment is quiet in a way it rarely ever is. Seiko had texted something along the lines of âkill me Iâm gonna be stuck in this library group hell all day,â and Satoru, as usual, was off somewhereâhe mentioned errands, maybe gym, maybe campus, maybe both. You hadnât really been listening when he said it over his coffee that morning, still half-asleep and trying not to drool on the kitchen counter. So now, for the first time in a while, youâre completely alone. No blasting TikToks from Seikoâs room, no loud slams of Satoruâs door because he still hasnât figured out how to close it without shaking the whole apartment. Just you, the faint hum of the fridge, and the unmistakable theme song of Modern Family floating through the living room. You hadnât really bothered with getting readyâweekends were lawless like that. Your hairâs a mess, thereâs a scrunchie abandoned somewhere on the couch, and youâre wearing this soft, too-thin tank top you usually reserve for sleep and your most battered pair of lounge shorts that might as well be pajama bottoms. Honestly, you kind of forgot anyone else existed. You have a blanket pulled over your legs but itâs too hot to fully commit, so itâs half-on, half-off, like youâre being attacked by fabric indecision. Youâre about two minutes into the episode when the front door swings open.
Satoru walks in, keys jingling, sneakers squeaking slightly on the wooden floor. He looks fresh from outsideâhair tousled from the wind, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, plastic bag of snacks in one hand, phone in the other. âOh,â he says, eyes scanning the room. âDidnât think youâd be here.â You sit up straighter, immediately pulling the blanket tighter over your torso like itâs gonna save you from embarrassment. âYeah. I thought you were out all day.â He tows off his shoes lazily, drops his keys on the counter without looking, then tosses the plastic bag down on the coffee table. âI was. Grocery store line was hell. Alsoââ he eyes the TV ââis that Modern Family?â
You blink. âYeah. Why?â
âI love Modern Family.â You arch an eyebrow. âSeriously? I thought you didnât like sitcoms.â
âYeah, but this oneâs special,â he says, flopping onto the couch next to you with no hesitation. âCam and Mitch remind me of me and Suguru.â You snort, trying to subtly tug your tank top higher over your chest. âThatâs unhinged. Which one are you?â He thinks for a second. âI think Iâm Cam.â
You stare. âSatoru, Cam is like⊠dramatic. He cries a lot. I donât think Iâve ever seen you doing that.â
âI have feelings,â he says defensively, grabbing a snack from the bag and opening it one-handed. âYou just donât respect that.â
âMmhm,â you hum, turning back to the TV. You can feel the body heat radiating from his sideâheâs close, way closer than necessary on this big-ass couch. Youâre acutely aware of every inch between you and him. Which is to say, not much. For a few minutes, itâs just the show playing. Comfortable silence. Except your heart is doing this stupid uneven thing because heâs right there. And it doesnât help that at one pointâjust as Phil Dunphy is doing something ridiculousâyou feel his eyes flicker to your side. And for the briefest second, maybe half a second, his gaze dips. You donât move. You donât say anything. His eyes are back on yours almost immediately, lazy grin still on his face like nothing happened. Like he hadnât just (maybe) looked at your chest. Youâre not even sure it was a look. It couldâve been your imagination. It probably was. Right? You suddenly feel ten degrees hotter, curling your toes under the blanket like thatâll ground you. âYou good?â you ask, trying to keep it casual.
âYeah,â he says smoothly. âWhy?âÂ
You shrug, eyes glued to the TV even though youâre not processing a single joke anymore. âYou looked like you were spacing out.â He leans back on the couch like he owns the damn thing, all sprawled out with one arm tossed lazily over the backrest. His fingers dangle behind you, brushing the edge of your shoulder. Barely. But enough to make you hyper-aware of every exposed inch of your skin. You shift a little in your seat. It doesnât help. His thigh is still resting near yours, solid and warm, his scent faint and maddeningly familiarâclean laundry, citrus shampoo, and that soft hit of spice from whatever cologne he throws on without thinking. The TV flickers, but you donât see it. Not when you feel him like that.Â
âDunno,â he murmurs suddenly, voice lower than before. âJust thinking how wild it is that youâre Seikoâs best friend.â You blink out of your daze, glancing over. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â He turns his head toward you, and for a second, he doesnât answer. He just looks. His eyes flick downâso quick you mightâve missed it, but not really. A lazy sweep across your collarbone, down the slope of your tank top, the faint outline of your chest where the fabric clings too easily without a bra beneath it. And then his gaze flicks back up to meet yours like nothing happened. Youâre suddenly burning. âYouâre just⊠eh, youâre like different now,â he says finally, mouth tugging into something softer than a smirk, but still not safe.
Your throat goes dry. âYou literally told me a few months ago I was like your annoying little sister.â He huffs a laughâlow and amused, almost like heâs laughing at himself. âYeah. People say dumb shit all the time. Obviously I didnât mean it.â His voice is rough around the edges, like the words cost something. Like they meant something. And youâstupidly, helplesslyâcanât tell if you want to shove him away or drag him closer just to find out what the hell heâs thinking. His knee knocks into yours, casual, but it lingers. You glance down at the spot where your legs touch. He hasnât moved. Neither have you. You donât want to. He leans in just a little, stretching his arm further along the back of the couch, fingers now brushing fully against your shoulderâhis pinky grazing your bare skin. Not accidentally this time. You swear you feel the air shift between you. Charged. Tense. He smells even better up close. You can hear the faint scratch of his breath, the creak of the couch when he adjusts, the thump of your own pulse in your ears. The air in the room feels hotter than it should be. Maybe itâs the blanket, maybe itâs the body heat, or maybe itâs the fact that Gojo SatoruâSeikoâs brother, the guy who used to shove Cheeto crumbs in your face and call you gremlinâis now lounging beside you like he didnât just casually imply heâs been thinking about you in a way that definitely isnât brotherly. You try to laugh it off. Try to breathe normally. Try to keep your thoughts from careening off a cliff. But your skin is buzzing under the weight of what he saidâwhat he meantâand itâs getting impossible to sit still. âIâm gonnaâuhâŠâ you start, voice a bit too breathy for your liking. âGrab snacks.â He hums, low and lazy. âOf course you are.â You donât even look at him to know thereâs a smirk playing on his lips. Smug. Fucking smug. You peel the blanket off your lap, heart already thudding in your chest like it knows something you donât. As you rise to your feet, you catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eyeâsubtle, fast.
Satoruâs gaze dips. Straight to your ass. You freeze for half a second, spine locking, suddenly very aware of your little lounge shorts, how they cling when you move, how thin the fabric is. Your skin prickles. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just glancing around the room. Maybe heâ But you felt it. And when you dart a glance back at him, heâs already back to facing the TV. Arms sprawled out. Cool and unbothered. Exceptâhis jawâs clenched a little now. One hand is flexing faintly against the armrest, like heâs trying not to react. And you swear, if you didnât know better, youâd think heâs the one trying to calm himself down. You walk to the kitchen way too fast, needing the distance, needing to get air because your thoughts are spiraling again. Did he really look? Was that just your brain on horny autopilot? Are you imagining this whole thing because youâre bored and heâs attractive and close and smells like sin wrapped in cashmere? You yank open a cupboard. It takes you a second to even remember why you came in here.
Oh. Right. Snacks. Behind you, the sound of the TV fills the silence, but your ears are still ringing with what he said. âObviously I didnât mean it.â Those words echo in your chest like a struck bell. Over and over and over. You grab a random bag of chips and pop it open just to keep your hands busy. You nibble one. Youâre not even hungry. You hear the couch creak. Heâs shifting. âSooo,â Satoru calls out, voice stretched and casual like this is nothing, like he didnât just nuke your brain two minutes ago, âyou bringing those back to share or am I supposed to sit here and starve?â You roll your eyes, half grateful heâs still being a dumbass, half annoyed heâs pretending like your body language wasnât screaming confusion and want and maybe something more. You return to the couch, tossing the chips between you both as you sink down. This time, thereâs a full cushion between you, but the tension doesnât go anywhere. He grabs a handful of chips without looking away from the screen. âYou good?â
You nod too quickly. âYeah. Just⊠thinking.â He doesnât push. He just leans forward, his long legs spreading slightly, forearms resting on his thighs. The new position pulls his shirt tighter across his back, and itâs ridiculous, the way you notice the flex in his shoulders. The way your gaze dips now. You're no better than him. Your throat dries again. âSo,â he says after a moment, voice still easy, still pretending, âwhat episode are we even on?â You glance at the screen and realize you couldnât name a single thing thatâs happened in the last ten minutes. âUh. The one where Phil gets stuck in the portable toilet.â
Satoru laughs. âClassic. That guyâs so fucking dumb.â You nod, distracted. You keep catching yourself staring. At his jaw. His hands. That little shadow of stubble growing in because itâs the weekend and he clearly didnât care enough to shave. You wonder what it feels like. What heâd look like if those same hands were pushing your head down on his coâ
No. Nope. Abort. You try to focus on the TV. You try not to think about how he looked at you. How youâre now almost certain you didnât imagine it. But then you feel his thigh bump yours again. Well, as much as someone can with a fucking pillow in between you both. Deliberate this time. Just the lightest nudge. You glance at him, and his eyes are still on the TVâbut his lips? Theyâre tilted in the faintest, most devilish smirk. You bite the inside of your cheek and sit there in silence, knees barely touching, heat coiled tight in your stomach like a secret. The tension is coiled tight between you and Satoruâlike someone pulled a rubber band back and is holding it in place, fingers twitching on the edge of letting go. Neither of you moves. Neither of you breathes too loud. Youâre still thinking about the brush of his thigh against yours, about the way he smirked without really smiling. Your fingers tighten slightly around the edge of the blanket.
Thenâ
The front door creaks open. âHELLO?â Seikoâs voice echoes through the apartment like a goddamn fire drill. âThis house is full of the rudest bitches, I swear.â You sit bolt upright, practically yanking the blanket up to your collarbones as if sheâs about to catch you in something. Satoru casually reaches for another chip, cool as ever. Seiko rounds the corner into the living room, dropping her bag on the floor with a theatrical huff. âI called you,â she says, glaring at her brother. âLike five times. Five. You told me to let you know when I was done!â Satoru lifts a brow, lazy and unapologetic. âI was busy. You survived.â
âI had to take the bus,â she groans, flopping into the armchair like sheâs just returned from war. âThe bus, Satoru. You know how many coughs I heard in ten blocks? You might as well have sentenced me to death.â You snort, trying to play it cool, heart still racing beneath your tank top. âYouâre so dramatic.â
âIâm not dramatic, Iâm chronically disrespected in this house,â she declares, and then her eyes flick to the TV. âOh my god, is this the one where Cam tries to be a clown at Lukeâs party?â
âYeah,â you say. âIt just started.â
âPerfect,â she says, curling up under the throw blanket and stealing the chips off the coffee table. âGod, you and I are literally Cam and Mitch.â You blink. Her and Satoru were eerily alike. âI donât know how to feel about that.â She shrugs. âWe just have a shared delusional flair and a healthy amount of judgment, and I think thatâs beautiful.â Behind you, Satoru exhales a soft, amused sound and stands up, stretching in that obnoxious way that pulls his shirt up just enough to flash a sliver of his toned stomach. You avert your eyes fast. âWell,â he says, voice easy, almost bored, âIâll let you ladies get back to doing⊠whatever this is.â He takes a slow step back toward the stairs, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulderâbut before he turns completely, his eyes flick back to you. Just for a second. Itâs subtle. Barely a second too long. But he holds your gazeâand that same faint, almost imperceptible smirk ghosts across his lips. Itâs not a full smile. Itâs a knowing one. And then heâs gone, padding upstairs without another word, leaving you sitting there with a fake laugh stuck in your throat and your pulse suddenly much louder in your ears. âUgh,â Seiko says, mouth full of chips. âHeâs so annoying. I cannot wait until he gets his own place.â You hum, pretending to agree, but your eyes linger on the stairwell he disappeared into.
Yeah. Annoying. If only it were that simple.
â
Youâve been staring at your reflection so long your own face is starting to look unfamiliar. Two skirts are flung across your bedâone black and slinky, the other plaid and shorter than you remembered it being when you first bought it. You keep switching between them, holding them up against your hips, spinning a little in the mirror, frowning. Itâs stupid. You know itâs stupid. Itâs just a frat party. But itâs one of the big ones. The kind that gets talked about weeks after. The kind where even the art students who pretend they hate frat culture show up and get drunk on jungle juice in someoneâs bathtub. You want to look good. You want to look good. Eventually, fed up with your own indecision, you grab both skirts and swing open your bedroom door, calling, âSeiko, I need you for like two seconds, I swearââ
You barrel straight into something warm and solid andâ
âOofâfuck, sorry,â you mumble, skirts slipping in your grip. Your hands are full, so you bounce off and stumble a step back. Satoru catches your elbow before you can completely lose balance, steadying you with one lazy hand. âHi to you too,â he says, his voice edged with amusement. You blink. âHi. Uhâsorry. I was justâI thought Seiko was still here.â
âShe left like ten minutes ago,â he says, stepping back and glancing over your shoulder, toward your bedroom. âGrocery run or something. Youâve been holed up in your room forever.â You glance down at the two skirts in your hands and shift them awkwardly against your chest, heat licking at the back of your neck. âYeah, Iâuhâwas trying to figure out what to wear.â His gaze lingers. He doesnât say anything right away. Then: âTo the party?â
You nod. A beat of silence. âYou sound stressed,â he says, voice dipping a little. âWhat happened? You sound like youâre about to cry over a skirt.â You roll your eyes. âI just wanted her help picking one.â Thereâs a softness to his expression now. A twitch of his lips that looks suspiciously close to a smirk. âTragic.â You groan and hug the skirts tighter to your chest. âThis is stupid. Iâm being stupid.â
âNah,â he says, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed now. âIt makes sense. Lot of people are gonna be there. First party of the semester everyone actually gives a shit about.â
âExactly,â you mutter, more to yourself. His eyes drag lazily from your bare thighs to your slightly flushed face. Youâre still in the tank top youâd thrown on earlierâone of those thin, soft ones with lace on the straps. âSo,â he says, head tilted, eyes unreadable but fixed on you, âwhat are the options?â You blink. âWhat?â
âThe skirts,â he says, like itâs obvious. âLet me see. Câmon.â You roll your eyes, but your voice still comes out embarrassed. âI just wanted Seikoâs opinion.â He grins. âAnd instead you got mine. Brutal.â
âYeah, Iâm regretting it already.â He pushes off the wall with a little amused hum and steps closer. âLemme see.â You raise an eyebrow. âYou? The fashion expert?â Satoru shrugs. âHey, Iâm good at judging outfits. From the outside and the inside.â Your face burns. âYouâre disgusting.â
He grins. âYouâre the one asking for my opinion while wearing a tank top thatâs basically see-through.â You make a sound of protest and clutch the skirts against you again. âOkay! Thank you, great, very helpful!â He doesnât move. âI mean, either one would look good on you. You haveââ He pauses, lips twitching, âârange.â You squint at him. âWhy do I feel like thatâs not a compliment?â
âBecause you know me.â
You laugh, but it comes out breathier than you intend. Heâs still looking at you. Not in the way guys at parties look. Not even like how he used to look at you months agoâdistant, vaguely amused, older brother of your best friend. This look is different. Lazier. Focused. And then he just casually reaches out, like heâs done a hundred times before, but this time his knuckle grazes the bare skin of your arm when he adjusts the hem of the black skirt in your hand. âGo with this one,â he murmurs, suddenly closer than he was a second ago. âItâs a better choice.â
You swallow. âA better choice?â His eyes flick up. âYeah.â The air feels a little too charged now. A little too tight. Youâre still, not sure what to say, barely sure what youâre breathing. And then, blessedly, he takes a step back, his expression shuttering into something light again. âWell,â he says, âIâll leave you to your existential wardrobe crisis. Let me know if you need my expert fashion advice again.â You nod dumbly, skirts clutched tight. Inside, you drop the plaid skirt to the floor and stare at yourself in the mirror again. Somehow, the decisionâs a lot easier now.
â
âWhat do you mean, Satoru canât drive us to the party?â Seiko screeches, her voice echoing off the tile as she stalks around the apartment in a pair of clacking nude heels, aggressively tapping his contact on her phone. You lunge across the couch, snatching it from her before she rage-texts him something psychotic. âSeikoâcalm down. Itâs not because of the fight. Listen! He said he has a late lab or some shit, okay? Heâs coming later.â She stares at you, lip curled in disbelief, before deflating with a dramatic sigh. âOh.â Thereâs a beat. You watch her face as she recomposes herselfâlike sheâs loading a new expression. A girl rebooting in real time. âSo⊠is he sending us Uber money, orâŠ?â You suppress a grin. âNo need. Suguruâs driving us.â The shift in her demeanor is instant. You swear you catch a spark of actual electricity pass through her body. âOh.â Now her voice is a full octave lower, soft, composed, perfectly pleasant. âThatâs nice.â You snort, giving her a shove. âNice try. But that fake âcool girlâ thing is not working. I know how long youâve liked him, dumbass.â She squeals, spinning in a little circle like you just handed her a backstage pass to her dream concert. âOh my god. You donât understandâthis is like the first time I get to hang out with him without Toruâs annoying ass being all over the place.â You roll your eyes. âYouâre literally acting like a Shoujosei heroine right now. Tone it down before he thinks weâre taking you to the ER for heatstroke.â
But youâre grinning. She waves a hand, unfazed. âWhatever. This is my moment. I need it to be perfect.â You snort and smooth your hands over your outfit one more time. The black skirt he picked sits high on your waist, hugging you like a second skin. Itâs shortâdangerously soâbut structured enough to look intentional. Youâd paired it with a slinky backless top in that kind of soft fabric that feels cool against your skin, and lets just enough cleavage peek through to keep it casual. You mightâve been dressing for yourself. But youâd be lying if you said a part of you wasnât wondering what Satoru would think when he finally saw it. Seiko squeals again as she double-checks her lipstick. âOkay but wait. You said Suguruâs stared at me before. When? Tell me now. Donât lie.âÂ
You shrug, all fake-casual. âMmm. Like twice last week. When you wore that fitted top to the library. Also when you made that stupid joke and he actually laughed.â
âOh my god,â she whispers, hand flying to her chest like you just told her sheâd been accepted into heaven. âI knew it. I thought I was delusional. But you just confirmed it.â Youâre about to tease her again when a familiar honk cuts through the buzz of the apartment. âSpeak of the devil,â you grin. Outside, Suguruâs car is parked by the curb, headlights casting long shadows through the blinds. You head out with Seiko, the cool evening air brushing against your legs as you slide into the backseat. Suguru, behind the wheel, turns slightly to look over his shoulder. âHey.â
âHi,â you reply, amused as Seiko wordlessly climbs into the passenger seat like itâs her destiny. You swear she almost sits with a flourish. She twists toward him. âThanks for picking us up. You look nice.â Suguru gives her a crooked smile. âYou look nice, too.â You almost groan at the tension brewing already. You catch the subtle glance he gives her legs, the quiet, too-smooth âseatbeltâ reminder as he reaches across to pull it out for her. She blushes, mumbling a thanks, and you just sink back into your seat, smiling to yourself like youâve been let in on a joke no one else knows the punchline to. The ride to the frat house is filled with casual conversationâmuted music humming from the car speakers, the windows cracked just enough to let in the city air. As Suguru pulls into a crowded residential street littered with double-parked cars and glowing red solo cups on curbs, Seiko leans forward to point out a spot. Typical frat party energy is already bleeding into the nightâthudding bass in the distance, porch lights glowing warm, a guy doing a keg stand on someoneâs lawn while someone else records with flash on. You smooth your skirt down instinctively as Suguru parallel parks like a pro, killing the engine with a low chuckle. You glance up at him just before stepping out, voice quieter than before. âHey. Do you know when Satoruâs coming?â Suguru gives you a lookâone of those slow, knowing, older-brother-type glances that feels like it sees more than it says. âNot too far away,â he replies, lips twitching. âYouâll see him soon.â He opens his door and gets out, and you follow, the air buzzing louder with the bass as you approach the house. Itâs already fullâbodies moving on the porch, music pounding out the windows, a mix of cheap perfume and sweat and smoke curling through the air. Inside, the light is dim, string lights casting a low amber haze over the crowd. People call greetings, red cups are pressed into hands, and the house is full of the usual noiseâmusic, laughter, flirtation, chaos. You let Seiko tug you in by the hand, eyes scanning the roomânot consciously, not desperately. Just⊠wondering. If heâd see you tonight. If heâd look.
Inside, the house is buzzing. People are packed shoulder to shoulder, someoneâs dog is wearing a backwards cap for some reason, the musicâs loud enough to rattle your ribs, and the air smells like a mix of weed, tequila, and Axe body spray. You and Seiko barely make it past the kitchen before youâre intercepted by a group of mutual friends from one of your guysâ shared elective class.
Youâre nodding along, drink in hand, when you spot someone across the roomâa guy you know from high school? Or maybe the library? The edges of memory are fuzzy from the noise, but you tilt your head and squint, trying to place him. âWaitâexcuse me for a sec,â you say to Seiko, squeezing her wrist. You pivot, winding through the crowd, barely making it five steps before someoneâs shoulder crashes into yours. You reel back instinctively, blinking up.
White hair. Too tall. Light eyes. Hoodie thrown lazily over a plain tee, but still looking like a full time model for Vogue. He smells like cologne and smoke and something faintly citrusy. âWow,â you say automatically, blinking again. âYou actually came.â Satoru smilesâlazy, tilted, boyish. Like heâs just been caught in something he enjoys too much to lie about. âYeah,â he says. âTook an Uber. Not planning on being sober tonight.â You laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. âSame. But Seiko and Suguru are both staying sober, which is kind of impressive given the circumstances.â He raises an eyebrow, like he already knows exactly what circumstances you mean. âAh. Right, right.â Thereâs a pauseâjust long enough for his eyes to drop to your legs. Then, casually, like heâs not saying anything crazy at all, he leans a little closer. âSo⊠you wore the skirt.â You grin. âYeah, I did. Is it nice?â He snorts under his breath like please, then runs a hand through his hair. âYou know it is.â You roll your eyes. âYou donât even remember which one it was.â He pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. âThatâs actually insane of you to say. Of course I remember. It was this one. The black one. Little zipper on the side.â
You blink. âThere was no zipper.â He squints. âOkay. True. I made that part up. But it looks like it could have a zipper.â You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your drink. Youâre about to clap back when someone bumps into him from behind, sending him a half-step into you. His hand lands lightly on your arm to steady himself, just for a secondâwarm fingers, calloused from god knows what, brushing your bare skin. You both go still for half a beat.
Then heâs grinning again. âYou having fun?â You nod. âYeah. Itâs actually a good party. Not too many freshmen. No oneâs cried in the kitchen yet.â He laughs. âGive it an hour.â You donât respondâjust bite the inside of your cheek to keep your smile at bay. His gaze lingers on your face for a second too long. Someone behind you pops a can of something and the fizzing sound makes you both blink.
âWell,â he says, standing a bit straighter, âshould we find the others?â You nod, gesturing vaguely toward the back of the house. âYeah. Theyâre by the pong table.â As you both start walking side by side through the house, you canât help but glance sideways at him. Heâs looking ahead, but thereâs that same smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. The same one from the apartment earlier. Knowing. Lazy. A little smug. A little dangerous. You finally make your way toward the makeshift beer pong table someoneâs set up near the back of the frat house. Itâs surrounded by half-drunken students, red solo cups, and a poor folding table thatâs seen too many parties and not enough soap. You spot Ryomen Sukuna chatting to some girlâhis chem lab partner? Odd, she was way too nice to talk to a guy like himâ by the drinks table, his gaze unabashedly admiring her form. A cheer goes up as someone lands a shot, and you hear Seikoâs unmistakable laughâshrill, excitedâoff to the left, where sheâs clapping dramatically for Suguru, whoâs currently in what looks likeâŠ? A competition to see who can stay in a handstand for the longest? Is that Toji Zenin with him?
âI was wondering where you ran off to,â Seiko says when she sees you. Her eyes briefly dart to Satoru, then back to you, and you give her a look that says: Donât. Start. âMe and Satoru are gonna take a shot at this next game,â you say quickly, already setting your drink down and rolling your shoulders like a boxer entering the ring. Satoru raises a brow. âWe are?â
âYou scared?â He grins. âNah, Iâd win. I always win these.â
âYouâre the one with freakishly long arms, so I guess I need to have more confidence in you,â you say, pointing at him. âYou better land every cup.â
âI will. As long as you look pretty while doing the distractions.â
You blink. âThatâs so sexist.â
âAnd yet, you smiled.â You try to smack his arm but heâs already ducking around you, grabbing a couple of ping pong balls from the table while the other team clears out. A small group starts to gather as you both step up to the tableâprobably because Satoru Gojo doing anything draws attention, but also because youâre not exactly subtle about whisper-arguing with him about technique. âOkay,â he says, tossing a ball up and down like itâs a warm-up. âWeâre playing standard rules. Elbow behind the edge, reracks at 6 and 3, bounce shots count for two. You know how to play, right?â You make a face. âSort of.â
âOh my god.â
âI didnât come to college to learn about sports, Satoru.â
âItâs beer pong,â he groans. âItâs not a sport, itâs survival.â You flip him off, but youâre laughing. He lets you shoot first. Your ball clinks off the rim of a cup and bounces harmlessly to the floor. Satoru whistles low. âStrong start.â
âShut up and make your freak arm useful.â He sinks the shot. Effortlessly. Doesnât even blink. Of course he does. You sigh, already resigned to being carried. âCome here,â he says, waving you over like itâs no big deal. You narrow your eyes. âWhat?â
âYour formâs all wrong. Youâre like. Flicking it. This isnât badminton.â
âI donât flickââ
âCome here.â Heâs behind you in a second. You feel his body brush against your back, the faint warmth of him just close enough to register without being obvious. His hand slides along your forearm, adjusting your grip on the ball.
âRelax your wrist,â he murmurs, and now his chin is practically over your shoulder. You swallow. âLike this,â he continues, his hand still guiding yours. âItâs more of a lob. Use your fingertips. Gentle. Thatâs itâ ah, good girl. â You try not to think about the way he says gentle. Or good girl. Or the way his breath is hitting your neck in warm puffs between words. âYou realize youâre totally milking this under the guise of tutoring me,â you say, heart thudding faster. âObviously.â His grin curls against your cheek. âYou gonna shoot or what?â
You shoot. You land it. The group around the table erupts, laughing and shouting. You turn around, triumphant. âHoly shitââ
Satoruâs grinning, arms raised like heâs just coached a champion. âThatâs my girl.â Your stomach does something very stupid at those words. You try to ignore it. The game continues like thatâbanter, shots, shoulder brushes, the occasional low âgood jobâ from Satoru that lights up every neuron in your body. Youâre not sure how much is the alcohol and how much is just him, but your face is warm and your hands shake a little more every time he reaches past you. At one point, someone makes a distracting joke and you miss horribly, groaning as the ball flies way off. Satoru leans close and mutters, âYou need to take your revenge.â
âHow?â
âDistraction tactics. Classic.â You eye him. âWhat, like flash a tit?â He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. âJesus, no. I mean, you could, but maybe start smaller.â You giggle. âLike what?â He leans in again, voice lower. âDo that thing where you bend over to pick something up slow.â You look at him, deadpan. âDude, what?â He shrugs, unapologetic. âIâm not blind.â You end up not bending over or doing whatever Satoru had been telling you to do, instead you just plainly smile at the guy on the opposing end of the table, hoping it does the job. And it does. Dramatically. And the frat guy across from you absolutely chokes on his shot. You land the next cup clean. What can be said? Youâre extremely gorgeous. Satoru claps you on the back like a coach. âWhatâd I tell you? Iconic.â Youâre both laughing too hard now. And a little too close. Eventually, the game endsâyou winâand thereâs a flurry of congratulations and another drink thrust into your hand. You feel light and flushed and way too aware of the guy still standing next to you like he belongs there.Â
âYouâre better at this than I expected,â Satoru says, sipping from his own drink now. âYeah, I thrive under pressure.â Youâre mid-sip of some questionably pink drink when Satoru leans down, tipping his head toward your ear so casually it makes your stomach do that stupid flutter thing again. âYo,â he says, nodding toward a different room where you can see bodies shifting and crowding around a makeshift open circle. âWhatâs going on over there?â You blink. âDunno. Is that⊠a dance circle?â
âNah,â he grins. âNo oneâs moving that confidently.âÂ
You snort. âYou wanna check it out?â
âI was about to ask you the same thing,â he says, and the way his voice dips just slightly makes it feel like heâs not just talking about the crowd. âSure,â you say before you can overthink it. The two of you squeeze your way into the room, jostled on all sides by a sea of people shouting and laughing and pushing in toward the circle. The floorâs sticky, the airâs muggy, and someone bumps into your back hard enough that you stumbleâand before you can find your footing, a flash of blue disappears ahead of you. âSatoru?â you call, but your voice is drowned out by a chant going up in the center. And just like that, heâs gone. Youâre shoved toward the edge of the circle, almost tripping over a couch leg before managing to flop down beside some guy in a bucket hat holding a solo cup like itâs sacred. You glance around, heart racing, trying to spot that stupid head of white hair somewhere in the crowd. The guy next to you chuckles. âFirst time at one of these?â You glance over. âOne of what?â He gestures with his cup. âSpin the bottle. Slash seven minutes in heaven. Slash drink whatever disgusting cocktail that bowl has if you bail. Itâs a house rule.â You blink. âIâm sorry. What?â
âDonât worry,â he shrugs. âYou can decline. But then you gotta chug whateverâs in that punch bowl. And itâs, uh⊠unholy.â You look to the center where sure enough, thereâs a half-filled bottle spinning on the floor like itâs trying to find a victim. A few people are already crowding behind it, sitting cross-legged like some cursed sleepover. And the punch bowl heâs talking about? It looks like someone dumped red Gatorade, vodka, pickle juice, and maybe NyQuil into the same pot and called it âedgy.â You whip your head around againâSatoru is, of course, lounging cross-legged on the other side of the circle now, chatting with some people you vaguely recognize from class. He looks like he belongs there, all sprawled limbs and lazy smirk, like this kind of chaos was built for him. When he catches your gaze, he waves. Waves. You shoot him a you left me to die glare. He mouths something back that looks suspiciously like, âHave fun.â Before you can get up and leave, someone shouts, âALRIGHT! EVERYONE SHUT UPâRULES ARE THE SAME. SPIN LANDS ON YOU, EITHER GO IN THE CLOSET OR DRINK. NO BACKING OUT.â And just like that, the first spin hits a girl in a crop top and some guy who looks like heâs about to pass out. Laughter, whistles, cheersâthen theyâre stumbling off toward the dark little closet in the corner like lambs to the slaughter. You sit frozen, drink clutched to your chest like a life preserver. The bottle spins again.
Not you. Then again. Still not you. Then: you. You freeze, neck stiff as your nameâs called. Itâs some guy youâve never seen in your life. He winks. You immediately reach for the punch bowl. The crowd yells as you choke down the mystery concoction. It burns like betrayal. Another few rounds go by. You watch people you know and people you donât vanish into that cursed closet. You try not to count the minutes. Try not to watch Satoru each time he gets picked. And yetâyou do. Twice the bottle lands on him. Both times he just laughs and reaches for the drink, wincing as he gulps it down. Your stomach does that thing again. You donât want to care. Finally, the bottle spins, slower this time, teetering between two people. It seems to almost stop on the bucket hat guy next to youâuntil the neck slides a few inches more and lands squarely⊠on you. Your heart lurches. Then it spins againâand lands on him.
Satoru. It goes so quiet, you can hear the bass vibrating through the floorboards. Someone cackles. âOhhhhhh shitââÂ
You look at him. Heâs already watching you, a crooked, loose-limbed smile stretching across his lips. âAlright, alright,â someoneâs saying. âOr you can drink, but Iâm warning you, the new mix is, like, fucking illegal.â
âYeah,â someone else adds, âToru, you already tapped out of two. You're out of lives.â Satoru throws his head back and groans. âShit.â He locks eyes with you again. âWell?â you ask, voice a little smaller than you mean it to be. âYou tell me,â he says, tone light but eyes dark. âCloset or cocktail?â You hesitate. You could back out. You should back out. But heâs standing already, towering in his black tee and the chain peeking out from under his collar, holding out a hand to you with that infuriating confidence. âLetâs go,â he says. âNo way Iâm drinking that pickle NyQuil bullshit. My kidneys are failing already.â A cheer erupts.
âSEVEN MINUTES STARTING NOW!â You feel someone gently shoving you forward, and then youâre walkingâstumblingâtoward the little coat closet with Satoru beside you, hand hovering behind your back like heâs making sure you donât fall. Inside, itâs pitch black. You both tumble in, bumping into each other, the door slamming shut behind you with a click. Itâs cramped. Shoulders touching. Knees knocking. You can hear him breathing. And somewhere outside, someoneâs laughing like this is the funniest shit theyâve ever seen. You swallow. âThank god Seikoâs not here,â you mutter under your breath. âSpeak for yourself,â Satoru says casually. âI think this is character-building.â
âCharacter-building?â you repeat, incredulous. âYeah.â His voice is low, amused. âWeâre trapped. Small space. Zero distractions. Forced eye contact if there was any light.â You laugh, nervous. âThis is not how I imagined dying.â
âIf we die in a frat closet,â he says seriously, âI just want you to know itâs been an honor.â You laugh again, this time a little too loudly. You donât notice how close heâs gotten until you shift and your knees knock againâhis thigh against yours. Warm. Solid. âIs it hot in here?â you mumble.
âItâs definitely not cold.â You donât respond right away. Neither does he. Itâs suddenly too quiet. You can feel his gaze, even in the dark. And somehow, you knowâyou knowâthat whatever happens next will not be played off as just another party game. The silence wraps around the two of you, warm and humming and too dense to ignore. Your back hits the closet wall, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat pounding louder than the music outside. Somewhere, someone yells about shotgunning a beer, and it sounds so far away compared to the stillness between you and him. Satoru shifts beside you, his voice low and careful. âHeyâjust so you know, we donât have to do anything in here.â He says it casually, like itâs no big deal. His shoulder brushes yours. âOh,â you say. You try to sound neutral. Chill. Normal. You fail. âUmâno, itâs okay. We can do stuff.â He huffs out a laugh, and itâs so goddamn warm in the closet and so him that your cheeks burn on contact. âWe can do stuff,â he repeats, teasing. âWow. Thatâs seductive.â You groan and immediately bury your face in your hands. âI didnât mean it like that, oh my god.â He laughs again, this time a little breathless. âNah, Iâm into it. Super smooth delivery.â
âIâm drunk,â you whine, still hiding. âIâm tipsy. I literally cannot be held accountable for anything I say.â
âOh, now youâre pulling the legal disclaimer.â
âIâm gonna die in this closet. Like, emotionally.â He shifts again, and you feel itâhis thigh pressing more into yours, his arm now behind your back along the wall like heâs boxing you in without even meaning to. Or maybe he is meaning to. Maybe this is the point. Maybe youâre just slow to realize it. He opens his mouthâprobably to say something sarcastic and obnoxious, like alwaysâbut you donât let him. You donât know if itâs the cheap cocktails or the lingering electricity from that beer pong game or just how close he is in this tight little space, but your body moves before your brain can catch up. You lean forward and kiss him. You only mean to peck him once, test the waters, but the second your lips meet his, he responds. Hard. His hand finds your waist with immediate purpose, dragging you closer until your chest is pressed against his, the scent of his cologne and sweat and cheap beer swirling around your head like smoke. His other hand fists into the fabric of your top, knuckles brushing your ribs, and heâs kissing you like heâs been waiting for this, mouth hot and demanding and perfect. You gasp a little when his tongue brushes yours, and he swallows it greedily like he wants to hear that sound again. And again. And again. Youâre vaguely aware that youâre making noises, little broken gasps against his lips, but you donât care. Youâre half in his lap now, one leg slung lazily over his as your back presses to the closet wall. His grip tightens at your hip like heâs trying to keep himself anchored, but itâs not working. He breaks the kiss just for a secondâonly long enough to breathe against your mouth. âFuck,â he mumbles, voice ragged. âYou taste like whateverâs in that drink. That horrifying punch. But you still taste good. What the fuck.â
You laugh a little, dazed. âYou too.â Then he kisses you againâdeeper this time, rougherâand itâs suddenly impossible to remember what the hell you were ever nervous about. His hand slides under the hem of your shirt, palm flat and hot against your bare skin. You shiver, and he smirks against your mouth, like he felt it. âCold?â he asks, voice muffled by the skin of your neck as he kisses along your jaw. âShut up,â you whisper back, breathless. He doesnât. His mouth is relentless. He kisses like heâs starving. His lips drag down the slope of your neck, his tongue wet and hot as it traces up the column of your throat. âGod,â you breathe. âYouâre soââ
âYeah?â he grins against your skin. âSay it.â
âNo.â
âCoward.â You grin and push him back lightly, but it just makes him grin harderâuntil he catches your wrists and gently pins them beside your head, still smiling like a little shit. âYou kissed me,â he says.Â
âYou let me kiss you.â
âDamn right I did.â And then he kisses you again, harder this time, like a promise. You forget where you are. You forget your name. You forget the stupid crowd outside or the timer ticking down. The only thing you know is his mouth, his hands, the heat thatâs spiking through your body like wildfire. You moan into his mouthâand this time, he groans. Low. Rough. Dangerous. And you get the sudden, dizzying feeling that if someone doesnât knock on this door in the next ten seconds, you might not make it out of this closet with your clothes still on. The closet is too dark to think straight. Too warm. His breath is hot against your skin, and your backâs pressing into the wall like itâs the only thing holding you up. Your legs are still half-draped over his, and his handâs still under your shirtâhis palm splayed wide across your waist like he forgot he put it there and now refuses to move. Youâre kissing again before either of you says another word. Itâs not careful anymore. Not testing the waters. This is all open mouths and low groans, tongue and teeth and the dizzying clash of teeth when one of you gets impatient. His grip shifts, and suddenly his hand is sliding further up, rough fingers grazing your ribs until his thumb just barely brushes under your bra. You freeze for half a second, the sharp spark of oh shit cutting through your haze. But then his mouth drags down your neck again, open and wet and hungry, and any coherent thought short-circuits in your brain.
âSatoru,â you breathe. You donât mean to say it like that. You donât mean to say it at all. It just falls out of you, broken and breathy and a little desperate. He groans.
âSay that again.â
âNo.â
âBoo, party pooper.â Youâre both smilingâgiddy, a little drunk, a little overwhelmedâand he noses at your cheek before dragging you in for another kiss. This oneâs slower. He licks into your mouth like heâs tasting you, savoring you, like youâre something heâs wanted for way too long and canât get enough of now that he has you. His thigh shifts between yours andâgodâyour hips roll on instinct. You feel his breath catch in his throat. Your lips part against his, and thatâs all it takes for him to move. His hands are on your hips, guiding you down onto his thigh again, and the friction makes your brain completely short-circuit. You bite back a sound, but itâs embarrassing how easily your body reacts to him. How natural it feels to rock against him like thisâslow, messy, clothed, but blistering. âFuck,â he whispers, his voice rasping low in your ear. âYouâre really doing this, huh.â
âDonât act surprised,â you mutter, head tipping back when his mouth finds that one spot under your ear. âIâm not,â he admits, voice rough. âIâm justâfuckâIâm so into it.â Youâre both breathing hard now, the air between you sticky and thick with heat. Your fingers slide up into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, and thatâs it. Thatâs the moment he slips both hands under your skirt, palms warm on your thighs. He squeezes lightly, like heâs checkingâaskingâand you nod, burying your face into his shoulder. âTouchy tonight, huh?â he murmurs into your skin.Â
âDonât be smug.â
âImpossible. Iâm literally in a closet with you grinding on me. I win.â You shove at his shoulder, and he laughs, this quiet, messy sound that turns right into another kiss. His hands wander again, fingers sliding along the edges of your underwear with just enough pressure to tease but not enough to do anything. You whimper. Quietly. Against his mouth. He bites your lower lip. And thatâs when thereâs a knock at the closet door. You both freeze. The knock comes againâfollowed by a tipsy voice yelling, âTIMEâS UP, CLOSET LOVERS. MOVE IT OR LOSE IT.â
You donât even move at first. Just sit there. Half tugged up by him around his waist. Half undone. Breathing like you ran a mile. You blink at each other. He grins first. âThat was like⊠two minutes,â he whispers.
âSwear to god, if Seikoâs out thereââ
âWeâll lie,â he says, totally unbothered, smoothing down your skirt and grinning lazily. âYou fell. I helped you up. We kissed a little. No laws were broken.â You snort, cheeks still on fire. But you canât help itâyou lean forward, just once more, and kiss him. Softly. Just one little press. He hums into it. Hands still on your hips like heâs not letting go the second the door opens. âYou okay?â he asks, quietly this time. No teasing. No jokes. You nod. âYeah.â And then you add, with a shaky laugh, âBut next time we do something like this⊠please not in a literal party closet.â His grin is smug. âNext time?â You shove him again. He opens the door. And the second it does, a wave of music, noise, and light crashes in like youâve broken the seal on a private, heated little world. You both step outâyour hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, heart racingâand pretend like nothing happened.
âWanna make another bad decision?âÂ
You tilt your head. âLike what?â
âBathroomâs unlocked.â You stare at him. He stares right back. You give a small nod, imperceptible almost, and then heâs grabbing your wrist, dragging you down the hall. You donât even check if someoneâs watching. You just move, fast, stumbling a little behind him as he shoves open the bathroom door and pulls you in behind him. Click. The lock slides into place. Silence. Your back hits the bathroom door. And Satoruâs right thereâcrowding into your space, bracing a hand beside your head like heâs trying to hold himself back, like heâs giving you that split-second window to change your mind. You donât take it. Satoru spins you around and backs you up against the counter like heâs done this beforeâlike heâs been thinking about it since the first time you argued over the last chocolate bar or something. His mouth finds yours in seconds, and this time itâs not playful. Itâs hungry. Hot. Desperate. You tug on his shirt, dragging him closer, and he laughs into your mouth, breathless and boyish and so into it. His hands slide up your thighs, rough palms on bare skin, fingers playing with the hem of your black skirt like he canât help himself. âYou know, this skirt that youâre wearing? The one I picked out?â he mutters, mouth moving down to your jaw, then under your ear.
You nod, dizzy. âUh-huh.â
âGood choice,â he grins, hands squeezing your ass over the fabric. âItâs fucking hot.â You whimper. Actually whimper. And he groans, like youâve just undone him. âYouâre killinâ me,â he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. âYouâre actuallyââ
Your skirt rides up. Your thighs part. And his body slots right between them. âYou sure?â he pants, nipping at your lip. âWe donât have toââ
You grab the front of his shirt and yank him closer. âI know we donât have to.â
Pause.
âBut I want to.â That does it. His mouth is back on yours before you finish breathing the sentence, and now his hands are everywhereâyour hips, your waist, under your top. Your hands tangle in his stupid white hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss and grind into you, hard enough to make you gasp. âShit,â he mumbles against your mouth. âWe should be careful.â You bite your lip. âWhy?â
âBecause if we keep going, Iâm not gonna stop.â Your breath catches. You kiss him. Slow and deep. âSomeoneâs gonna notice weâre gone,â you whisper, even though you make no move to stop touching him. He nips your neck. âLet them.â
âSatoruââ
You donât have time to laugh before he lifts youâjust like that, hands under your thighs, and sits you on the cold marble counter. Your skirt hikes up to your waist, and his eyes drag down your thighs with an audible breath, eyes glancing over on the wet spot forming on the front of your pink panties, fingers already slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear like he canât wait. Youâre kissing againâhot and messy and open-mouthedâwhile his hand works fast, dragging the fabric to the side and letting out the dirtiest fucking sound when he feels how soaked you are.
âJesus,â he groans, forehead to yours. âAll this for me?â You glare. âNo, for Suguru. Obviously for you.âÂ
That grinâthat goddamn smug Satoru Gojo grinâflicks across his face. âShouldâve known,â he says, fingers sliding over you now, teasing but desperate. âI really get you going, huh?â You moan, hips stuttering, hands fumbling with his belt now. âToruâplease.â That does it. The second you breathe his name like that, heâs movingâshoving down his jeans and boxers just enough, grabbing a condom from his back pocket like the cocky frat boy you know he is. âI swear,â he mutters, tearing it open, âI was not expecting to use this tonight.â
You give him a look. âBullshit.â He laughs low. âOkay, maybe I hoped. Come on, havenât been laid in ages.â Then? Then heâs right there, dragging your hips to the edge, rubbing himself against you slowly, teasing. Too slowly. âSatoru,â you whisper, grabbing his shirt, pulling. âNow.â He groansâand then pushes in, slow at first, filling you in a way that makes your whole body arch off the counter. âFuck,â he pants, gripping your hips like heâll lose it if he doesnât anchor himself. âYou feelâJesus.â
Your breath stutters out. âMoveâplease.â And he does. He fucks you like the party doesnât exist. Like the music isnât thumping just outside the door. Like someone wonât knock at any second. Hard, deep thrustsâhis hand muffling your moans when they get too loud, your nails clawing down his back under his shirt. He kisses you through it, open-mouthed and filthy, murmuring curses against your lips like heâs losing it, too. âDidnât think this would happen tonight,â he says between thrusts, voice ragged. Youâre gasping. âMe eitherâoh my Godâbut donât stop.â He doesnât. If anything, he fucks into you harder, like your words lit him up, hips snapping forward, making you see stars. You cling to him, head falling to his shoulder, trying so hard not to moan too loud when he shifts his angle and hits just right.
âSatoruââ
âI know,â he grits out, kissing your shoulder, your neck. âYouâre so fucking tightâshit.â The counter creaks beneath you. His hands are gripping your thighs, and youâre clinging to his shirt, and when you finally comeâclenching around him, eyes flutteringâhe groans like you just knocked the breath out of him. He follows fast. Gasping your name, forehead buried in your neck, hips stuttering as he finishes with a shudder and a string of muttered curses. The room falls quiet except for your heavy breathing. Youâre still panting when he finally lifts his head, face flushed, hair messy, looking more fucked-out than youâve ever seen him.
âHoly shit,â he mutters, eyes half-lidded. âPussy is too good.â You smack his chest, still catching your breath. âWay to ruin a moment.â He laughs, arms wrapping around your waist, forehead resting against yours. Outside, the bass drops again. Inside, he kisses youâsweet, slow now. Like he wants this again. And again. You're still half-breathless when you peel yourself off the bathroom counter, shaky legs dangling before you touch the floor. Satoru leans back, hair a mess, lips kiss-bruised and glistening, grinning like he just won a game he wasnât even supposed to be playing. You glance at yourself in the mirror and immediately groan. âGod,â you mutter, fixing your hair with trembling fingers. âI look like I just got railed in a frat bathroom.â
âYou did just get railed in a frat bathroom,â Satoru offers, obnoxiously proud. Heâs zipping his jeans, running a hand through his tousled white hair, utterly unfazed. âShut up.â You swat his chest as he snickers. âFix yourself. Your hair looks like youâre Goku from Dragon Ball Z right now.â
He checks. âOh. Shit.â You both burst into quiet, breathy laughter, like two kids caught in the middle of something reckless and brilliant. The bathroom still smells faintly like the citrusy hand soap, alcohol, and youâGod, youâclinging to Satoruâs skin like perfume. You tug your skirt down. Itâs wrinkled. Your thigh is slightly sticky. You donât even want to think about it right now. âWait,â you whisper, holding your arms out like a human barricade. âAre we going out together?â Satoru looks at you, then toward the door, considering. âNah,â he says finally, lips twitching. âIâll give you a 60 second head start. Real secret agent vibes.â He pulls you in before you can leave, pressing one last kiss to your mouth, slower this time, his hand cradling your jaw like heâs trying to memorize the shape of you. When you pull back, you're flushed again. âGo,â he says, voice low. âBefore I forget weâre trying to be subtle.â You open the door and slip out fast, stepping into the dim hallway. It takes you a second to adjust to the bass again, the flood of people, the bright overhead lights that make everything feel too real. You make a beeline toward the kitchen like you havenât just been completely wrecked in the bathroom, grabbing the nearest cup you can find and pretending to drink something even though itâs mostly just melted ice and backwash.
Thenâ
âYo!â Someone calls your name from across the room. Not Satoru. Just a classmate. You wave, hoping they donât notice how warm your cheeks are. Youâre mid-conversation when, exactly one minute later, Satoru wanders in from the other side of the room. Cool as ever. You both lock eyes for the briefest secondâand he winks at you like an absolute menace before joining some people near the pong table. You swear your knees go weak all over again. As youâre sipping from your cup and attempting to regulate your heart rate, your phone buzzes.
Torustill taste u on my tongue lol
You immediately lock the screen and shove it into your pocket like it just caught fire. Across the room, he catches your expression. Smiles. Smug. Lazy. Like he owns the whole fucking house. You shake your head, lips twitching as you pretend not to look at him again. But you do. A few times. And each time, heâs already looking back.Â
The car ride home is a blur of motion, low music, and the afterglow of too many drinks and too little inhibition. Youâre squished in the backseat of Suguruâs car, shoulder-to-shoulder with Satoru as Seiko loudly insists on shotgunningââI called it like thirty minutes ago, Satoru, donât even try meââand Suguru just raises a brow like why did I agree to this? You're half pressed against the window, the cold glass seeping into your flushed skin. Satoruâs thigh is warm beside yours. Too warm. Or maybe youâre just hyperawareâof him, of yourself, of the fact that less than an hour ago he had his hands under your skirt and his mouth on your neck. âUgh,â Seiko moans from the passenger seat. âSuguru, drive slower. Iâm gonna puke.â
âYou said faster two minutes ago.â
âWell now I say slower. Unless you want vomit on your dashboard.â
Suguru sighs and taps the brakes. Beside you, Satoru chuckles low in his throat. Itâs not even directed at you, but it ripples down your spine like a dropped match. He shifts, resting his arm casually along the backseat behind you, not quite touchingâbut close. So close. You try not to look at him. You fail. His hair is still tousled. Thereâs a markâbarely-thereâon the edge of his jawline. You wonder if he noticed it in the mirror at the party. You wonder if he knows itâs from you. You blink away the thought and stare hard out the window as Suguru pulls up to your apartment. The car slows to a stop, and suddenly all of you are groaning and tumbling out, drunk and exhausted. âEveryone drink water before bed,â Suguru calls after you and Seiko, who are giggling as you shuffle toward the door. âDonât be dumbasses tomorrow.â
âYes, Mom,â Satoru mutters. You all collapse into the apartment like a pile of overripe fruitâsweet, bruised, and sticky with the night. No words. Just Seiko drifting into her room with a loud yawn, mumbling something about being glad she didnât drink tonight. Satoru disappearing into his own with an unreadable look over his shoulder, and you stumbling into yours with your head spinning. The moment your door shuts behind you, you exhale hard. And then you feel it. The ache between your legs. The ghost of his mouth on yours. Your lips are swollen. Your hairâs a mess. And thereâs a bite markânot aggressive, but definitely thereâon your collarbone. You donât even change clothes. You just fall face-first into your bed and let the haze swallow you whole.
The morning hits like a truck. You wake up with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth and your thoughts screaming. What did I do? Your brain floods with flashes: the kiss in the closet. The way heâd looked at you in the bathroom mirror. His laugh, low and cocky. The stretch of his hand around your thigh. His voice against your neckâ
You sit up way too fast and groan. Okay. Okay. Think. Was it just the alcohol? A one-time thing? He is a flirt. He does sleep around. But he didnât flirt with anyone else that night. And he didnât go into the closet with anyone else. And he kissed you like he meant it. You press your hands to your face. You donât even know what you want. Do you want it to have been a one-time thing? Or are you hoping heâll bring it up again? Are you hoping heâll come knock on your door right now? You stare at your bedroom door. Itâs way too quiet outside. No Seiko, no Satoru. You check the timeâpast noon. Theyâre probably both still dead asleep. But what if heâs not? What if heâs in the kitchen? What if you walk out there and itâs awkward as hell and he doesnât even look at you the same? Your heart starts pounding. Youâre suddenly, intensely aware that youâre still wearing that damn black skirt. Itâs wrinkled and rides up your thighs in your bed like a cruel joke. You pull your blanket over your head and groan. Nope. Youâre not going out there. Not yet. Not until you know what the hell to say to the boy who fucked you over a sink last night and then waved at you across the room like he hadnât just ruined your entire life. You eventually force yourself out of bed. It takes a long, boiling shower, half a bottle of ibuprofen, and several internal pep talks, but you finally open your bedroom door and step into the hallwayâblank expression, huge hoodie, and an unholy craving for caffeine.
The apartment is quiet. No Seiko. No Suguru. But you hear faint kitchen soundsârunning water, a mug clinking against the counter. Your stomach drops. You turn the corner. Satoruâs there. Leaning over the counter with a mug in one hand and his phone in the other, looking very not hungover. His hair is dampâheâs clearly already showeredâand heâs in a pair of loose sweats, shirtless, like he doesnât even know what modesty is. You almost turn around. But he glances up. And youâre already seen. âOh,â he says, like youâve bumped into him at the fucking supermarket, notâwell. Not after last night. âMorning.â
You blink. âHey.â He sets his phone down. You make a beeline for the coffee machine, not looking at him. You feel him watching you, though. And not in a last night way. Not in a âyou looked so good riding me against the bathroom sinkâ way. More like⊠a confused âare we just pretending that never happened?â kind of way. You clear your throat. âYou sleep okay?â He pauses a beat too long. âYeah,â he says finally. âYou?â You nod. Pour yourself coffee. âFine.â Silence. You sip. He sips. The room is so quiet you can hear the tick of the old wall clock. âSoâŠâ you say, and instantly regret it. You donât even know what you were going to follow that up with. Thereâs no âso.â Thereâs no normal segue into hey remember when you pushed my panties to the side and said I was making too much noise? You donât even finish the thought. He scratches the back of his neck. âSo,â he echoes with a crooked smile, âthat was a party, huh?â You huff out a laugh that sounds more like a cough. âYeah. Yeah, it⊠was.â Silence again. You glance over at himâand heâs looking at you. Not in a teasing way. Not flirty, not smug. Just⊠like heâs trying to read you. Gauge your reaction. His voice is careful when he says, âI didnât think we were doing spin the bottle last night.â
âOh yeah,â you say lightly, hoping your smile doesnât look as forced as it feels. âThat was a⊠surprise.â He hums. Sips again. Neither of you brings up the closet. Or the bathroom. You both stand there, drinking bad coffee in your shared silence, pretending like nothing did. And somehow thatâs worse. You suddenly canât stand itâthe way your heart keeps jumping every time he shifts, like youâre waiting for him to say something. Clarify something. But he doesnât. And you donât. So instead, you mutter, âIâm gonna go back to my room.â He looks at you for half a second too long. Nods. âYeah. Okay.â You carry your coffee out, heart beating stupidly fast. You shut your door behind you and lean against it like you just escaped something dangerous. Because you did. You escaped the conversation where he mightâve said it was a mistake. But now you donât know if he wanted to say the opposite, either. And the not-knowing might just kill you first. You hear the shuffle of his feet in the hallwayâhis bedroom door creaking open, the sigh he lets out when he realizes the apartment is still quiet. But youâre already locked inside your room, sitting in bed in one of your oversized hoodies, a brutal hangover kicking at your temples. You don't even check your phone. You just stare at the ceiling, mouth dry, heart pounding. God. What the hell did you do?
â
By Monday, itâs not just a one-day silence. It turns into a pattern. You start rehearsing escape routesâroutes that avoid the kitchen, the couch, his side of campus. Youâre back to taking the bus instead of the ride he always used to offer, lying to Seiko with dumb excuses like âI left earlyâ or âI had to drop by the post office.â When he passes you in the hallway of your apartment, you duck into your room before he can speak. He notices. You can feel it.
On Tuesday, you hear the jangle of his keys, the creak of the front door, and his heavy, dragging steps like heâs tired. You hold your breath when his steps pause in front of your door for just a second too long. Then they continueâout to the living room. You exhale only after the TV starts playing. You donât know why youâre avoiding him so hard. Maybe itâs the embarrassment. The fact that you kissed him first. That you dragged him into the bathroom like a fucking hormonal maniac. That you wanted him. That he let you want him. You replay the way he looked at you in the mirror. The way he kissed you like heâd been thinking about it for weeks. But maybe thatâs just how he kisses. Maybe it didnât mean anything. You feel sick. And then thereâs the other thing. The gnawing guilt of knowing this isnât just some random guy. This is Seikoâs older brother. You practically grew up knowing him, teasing him, getting teased back. Sheâs known about your stupid little high school crushâbut she never knew itâd turn into this. And even though sheâd never be mad, a part of you feels like you broke a silent code. Like you crossed something.
So now you smile extra wide when youâre with her. Laugh too loud. Ask too many questions about Suguru, just to keep her focused on anything else. You donât mention Satoru. You never do. And she doesnât bring him up either, like maybe she senses somethingâs off. Satoru, on the other hand? Heâs not playing pretend. By Wednesday, heâs straight-up glaring at you in the kitchen. You enter to grab a water bottle and find him already there, shirtless, hair tousled from sleep. He glances up from his mug of coffee, and his jaw tics when you avoid eye contact, grab the bottle, and turn around with barely a âMorning.â
âSeriously?â he mutters under his breath.
You donât stop walking. You donât ask what he means. You just shut your bedroom door behind you again and let your back make contact with your bed, heart racing in your ribs. Thursday at campus, he walks straight past you outside the lecture hall, pretending to text. He doesnât stop. Doesnât smile. Doesnât say hi. Youâd feel relieved, but instead you feel⊠a little sick.
By Friday, you start catching him staring. Not the playful stares he used to throw when you were snarking at him on the couch, or the amused glances during group study when you used to roast Seiko. These are different. Sharper. Tight-lipped. Like heâs trying to understand what the fuck your problem is and fighting the urge to demand answers. In the library, he walks in with two friends and pauses when he sees you sitting alone. For a second, your eyes lock. Your heart jumps. You go cold. He raises his brows just a littleâlike a challenge. Like heâs asking, So this is how it is now?
You immediately lower your gaze to your textbook.
You donât look up again until you hear him walk away.
You tell yourself itâs fine.
You know the creak of every floorboard by now. You time your kitchen runs for when he's in the shower. You fake calls on the walk home if heâs in the distance across campus. Youâve perfected the art of silenceâof vanishing just before your name could leave his mouth.
Youâre not proud of it. But you're not ready to talk either. Every time you see himâor almost see himâyour stomach knots. Itâs not just the fact that you had sex with your best friendâs older brother. Itâs the fact that it meant something. At least to you. And now you donât know if it did to him.
You donât know what he thinks. You donât know if he regrets it. You donât know if he wants to do it again or pretend it never happened. You donât know anything, and not knowing feels safer than asking. You avoid the kitchen unless Seikoâs there. You donât ride in Suguruâs car anymore. You take the campus loop busâeven if itâs late, even if itâs raining, even if the seats are soaked and the heater doesnât work. At least it keeps you away from him.
Every day, you pretend like you're fine.
âWhy do you always look like youâre about to throw up when I mention Satoru?â Seiko teases lightly one afternoon when youâre curled up on the couch scrolling on your phone. You blink too quickly. âI do not,â you lie. âYeah, you do,â she laughs, âlike, every time. Are you two fighting or something?â You force a smile, heart thumping. âI just find him annoying. You know that.â She shrugs, unconvinced. âOkay, but you used to like him annoying. Now you look like youâre allergic to him.â
By Saturday, the tension is visible. Even Seikoâs starting to pick up on itâon how quiet Satoruâs become, how he doesnât crack jokes like he used to, how the apartment suddenly feels like it has an emotional landmine buried under the carpet. And heâs not being subtle either. He slams more drawers. Leaves the fridge open longer than needed. One morning, you hear him mutter, âSheâs literally acting like I murdered her family,â through the wall after you ducked out of the bathroom the second he walked in.
You curl into yourself. Guilt swarms you. Guilt for sleeping with him. Guilt for liking it. Guilt for making it weird. Guilt for hiding it. Guilt for lying to Seiko. Guilt for how you canât look either of them in the eye anymore.
And the worst part?
You miss him. You miss the sound of his dumb laugh from the couch. The way he stole your fries off your plate. The smug smirk he gave when he caught you staring. You miss him when he's in the same room, and you miss him when he's not. But you're too afraid to fix it.
Too afraid of what it could become. Or worseâwhat it wonât.
Itâs Sunday evening when it finally happens. Youâd just gotten out of the shower, damp hair sticking to your neck, hoodie slipping too far off one shoulder. Youâre halfway through towel-drying it in your room when you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging shut and keys being dumped into the ceramic bowl by the entryway.
And your stomach sinks. You know who it is.
You freeze, listening. Itâs lateâSeikoâs staying at a friendâs dorm tonight, which means itâs just you. And him. In the apartment. Your heart starts to thump like a speaker at a frat houseâdeep, rhythmic, inescapable. You think maybe if you stay quiet, if you keep your lights off, if you just wait it out, heâll go straight to his room.
But thenâ
Knock. Knock. Knock. Three sharp, deliberate knocks against your door. Not frantic. Not tentative. Just controlled. Frustrated. You squeeze your eyes shut.
âOpen the door,â he says through it. Calm. But not neutral. Thereâs heat simmering just beneath it. You donât move. Another knock.
âI know youâre in there.â
A pause.
âAnd I know youâre avoiding me.â
You grit your teeth, lips parting. For a second, you contemplate telling him to fuck off. But you canât bring yourself to say itânot when your whole body still remembers his touch, his voice in your ear, the way heâd held your hips like he couldnât get enough of you. âIâm not,â you lie weakly, and it sounds like youâre underwater. A dry laugh.
âRight. Youâre not.â
You stand frozen for a moment longer before your body acts for you. Fingers wrapping around the doorknob, turning it slowly until the latch clicks. You pull it open just enough to see himâhis hoodie slung low over his head, eyes darker than usual, like the week of silence has worn down even his confidence. Thereâs a long silence. You shift your weight from one foot to the other.Â
âLook, IâI donât think we should talk about it, okay?â you mumble, eyes flicking away. âIt was a party. We were drunk. It happened. Letâs just⊠not make it a big deal.â
His jaw flexes.
âYou think Iâm making it a big deal?â
You flinch. âArenât you?â
âNo,â he says, stepping forward, his voice dipping lower. âYouâre the one pretending it didnât happen. Youâre the one whoâs been acting like I donât fucking exist.â
You glance back toward the darkened hallway, heart pounding.
âIâve just been busy, Satoru.â
âCut the shit.â
His voice is low but harsh now, the syllables snapping through the space between you.
âI text you, you leave me to read. You see me on campus, and you bolt like Iâm some fucking stalker. You wonât even look at me. What the hell did I do that was so wrong?â
Your throat tightens.
âItâs notâitâs not about what you did,â you say quickly, voice cracking.
He stares at you like he doesnât believe you.
âI justââ You hesitate. âI donât know what that was, okay? I donât know what it meant.â
His eyes narrow. âWhy does it have to mean something?â
You blink. âBecause it does.â
The words come out louder than you meant.
And then itâs quiet. Heavy.
You suddenly feel very, very tired.
âI justâŠâ You swallow. âItâs hard. Youâre Seikoâs brother. And youâre you. Youâre, like, Satoru fucking Gojo. And Iâm justâme. And I donât want to be some⊠joke you tell your frat friends later.â
His face tightens.
âIs that what you think this is?â
You flinch. He takes a step forward.
âYou think Iâd fuck you in a bathroom at a party and then just go brag about it to Suguru or some shit?â
âI donât know!â you snap, voice cracking. âI donât know what the fuck to think!â
You feel it bubbling up nowâhot, sharp, impossible to contain. A weekâs worth of bottled-up emotion, self-doubt, mortification, and frustration bleeding into your voice.
âIâve liked you since I was seventeen and you used to sneak Red Bulls during our tutoring breaks at your guysâ houseâI didnât even like Red Bull, by the wayâand now weâre living in the same fucking apartment, and youâve seen me in my pajamas and kissed me like you were starving for it and then we had sex, and then I had to wake up the next morning pretending it didnât make my whole world tilt sideways!â
Your breath comes out shaky, chest heaving now.
âAnd youâGod,â you choke out, eyes stinging, âyou said nothing the next morning. Not even, like, a normal-person âare you okayâ or âhey, about last night.â No. You made some dumbass joke about not knowing theyâd have spin the bottle at the partyâlike that was the most significant thing that happened!â
You throw your hands up, exasperated and hurt all over again.
âAnd I just stood there like an idiot, laughing it off, because I didnât know if it was casual for you or if I meant nothing, and meanwhile I spent the whole week overanalyzing every single second while you probably just carried on like it was any other night!â Satoru is silent. Frozen. Jaw clenched, shoulders stiff, eyes locked on you like he canât believe youâve been holding all of this inside. That youâve been carrying it around like this pain belonged only to you.
âI felt like a fucking joke, Satoru,â you say quieter now, voice trembling. âAnd I didnât know if I was allowed to be hurt. I didnât know if I was overreacting. So I did the only thing I could doâI avoided you. Because if I didnât, I think I wouldâve cried or worseâtold you I still wanted you, even if you didnât feel the same.â The air between you two is thick with everything thatâs been left unsaid. He takes a slow step forward, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarseâreal. âI didnât know what the fuck to say,â he admits. âI woke up and I panicked. I thought if I made it casual, youâd feel like you had an easy out. Like it wouldnât be weird for you.â You look up at him, throat tight. âYeah?â you say bitterly. âWell, it was.â
âI know,â he says, wincing. âI know. And Iâm sorry.â A pause. You donât move. âI didnât mean to make you feel like that,â he adds quietly. âI was trying to be cool about it, and I ended up being a complete fucking idiot.â You say nothing. He sighs.
âI shouldâve just said I liked kissing you,â he says simply. âBecause I did. I liked it too much, and it freaked me out.â You blink hard. Your lips part, but the words donât come. He takes another step closer. âYou werenât a one-night thing,â he says, voice low. âYouâre not a joke. You never have been.â A breathless silence. Your heart is pounding againâbut for a different reason now. âSo, weâre good now?,â he asks lightly. You manage a small smile. âYeah.â
Another beat passes, and then his voice drops againâquiet, careful. âCan we stop pretending it didnât happen?â You take a breath. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your hoodie. Your skin feels hot. You nod. âYeah,â you whisper. âOkay.â
He smilesâslow, crooked, a little relieved.
âCool,â he murmurs, stepping past you with a brush of his fingers at your hip. âNow come out and eat. Youâve been emo all week.â
âDonât call me emo,â you groan.
âDonât ghost me, then.â You pause in the doorway, watching as he disappears into the kitchen. And despite the pounding in your chest, for the first time in days, something eases in your shoulders.
â
It starts off subtle. A shoulder bump in the kitchen. His fingers brushing yours when he passes the remote. You stealing sips from his drink even though you said you didnât want one. But over the last few weeks, itâs become undeniable. You and Satoru have gotten so close. Not in the subtle, barely-speaking, âare-they-even-on-good-termsâ way you were for that agonizing, slow, emotionally repressed stretch of timeâbut in the obnoxiously familiar, joyfully flirty, constantly-hovering-near-each-other way that screams something happened, and theyâre definitely doing it again. Thereâs no dramatic sit-down. No DTR talk. But itâs in everything you do. Itâs the way he stretches out across the couch just so his legs rest over your lap when Seikoâs watching TV next to you, unfazed. The way you lean into him during group hangouts, like heâs a magnetic pull you donât even fight anymore. Today, itâs the three of you againâSeiko, you, and Satoruâon a sunny late afternoon, draped across the living room in varying states of half-productivity and snack-crunching. He has his head dangerously close to your thigh on the couch, while he himself is sprawled across on it, flipping through something on his phone, one hand absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. Youâre seated with your legs crossed, scrolling through TikTok and trying not to smile every time his ivory hair glints in the afternoon sunlight.Â
Seikoâs half-watching a show but keeps glancing, suspicious.
âOkay,â she says suddenly, pointing her spoon at the both of you, âI swear to God you two were being emo little freaks like two weeks ago.â
You blink. âHuh?â
âDonât âhuhâ me,â she says, narrowing her eyes. âYou literally wouldnât even look at each other at breakfast, and now youâre basically spooning on the couch like thatâs normal.â Satoru doesnât look up. âI am a very cuddly person,â he says, flipping to the next Instagram story. You nudge him in the side with your foot. âHe is not,â you tell Seiko, grinning. âI was gaslit,â she says. âYou both made me think I was imagining the tension.â
âYou were,â you and Satoru say at the same time. Then you both glance at each other and immediately start cracking up. âUnbelievable,â Seiko mutters, digging her spoon back into her cereal. âI shouldâve known when he voluntarily washed a dish that something was up.â Satoru reaches up and steals a spoonful of cereal straight out of her bowl. âHey!â she swats at him, âGet your own! Donât touch my food, you asshole.â The rest of the day is just like thatâsubtle teasing, casual touches, too-long eye contact that gives everything away. When he gets up to grab snacks, he asks if you want anything with this easy, domestic sort of confidence. When you hand him your phone to look at a meme, his fingers graze yours on purpose. And when you walk back from the kitchen later, he slides over on the couch without a word, making space for you in that casual, of course youâll sit here next to me kind of way. At one point, youâre both squished together, sharing the same blanket, knees knocking under itâand Seiko just stares.
She mutters, âIâm living in hell.â You and Satoru both just grin.Â
â
You had the apartment to yourself.
Lectures had moved online because of some water damage in the psych building, so you were living the absolute dream: cozy hoodie, panties, blanket burrito, Modern Family playing at low volume, and a warm mug of tea in your hands. It was gray outsideâlight drizzle tapping at the windowsâand you had zero plans to leave the couch bed you made in your room. That was, until you hear the apartment door slam shut. You freeze. Itâs too early for Seiko to be back. And she wouldâve yelled something dumb the second she walked in. Which meansâ
âYo,â Satoru calls out, voice echoing down the hallway.
Shit.
You panic for half a second, adjusting your blanket like youâve been caught watching porn instead of a sitcom. âIâm in my room!â you shout back, hoping he takes the hint. He doesnât. Your door creaks open without hesitation, and you barely sit up before heâs leaning against the frame, one brow cocked, his stupidly gorgeous face framed by the light behind him.Â
âSeriously?â you groan. âEver heard of knocking? What if I was changing and I was naked?â He just grins, blue eyes flickering over youâmessy hair, oversized hoodie, bare thighs, popcorn-stained blanket and all. âI've already been inside you,â he shrugs casually, stepping in like itâs his room. âWhatâs the difference, really?â Your mouth drops open. âSatoruâ!âHe plops down beside you before you can finish, laughing to himself as you bury your face in the blanket in mortified silence. âYouâre unbelievable,â you mumble, trying to will away the heat crawling up your neck. He nudges your leg with his knee under the blanket. âSo whatâre we watching, sweetheart?â
You hesitate, because saying Modern Family out loud just feels embarrassing now. â...Modern Family.â Satoru squints at you, unimpressed. âAgain? Youâve seen every episode like twelve times.â
You turn to face him, making a point of shoving popcorn in your mouth like itâll shut him up. âAnd? Itâs comfort TV. Sue me.â But he doesnât argue. He just shifts lower, stealing a handful of popcorn and tossing a few pieces into his mouth while kicking his shoes off. You watch him stretch out beside you, long limbs taking up all the space, thigh pressing up against yours under the blanket. He doesnât say anything about it, and neither do you. Not until his hand slips under the blanketâjust resting on your bare thigh this time, warm and casual, but very much intentional. You shoot him a look. âSeriously?â
âWhat?â he murmurs, not even glancing over. âItâs cold. Youâre warm. Let me live.â
âYour hand is on my skin.â
His lips twitch like heâs trying not to smile. âOh, is that what that is?â You elbow him lightly, but it doesnât make him move. If anything, he just sinks further into your side, his knuckles brushing slow, lazy circles against your thigh like he knows exactly what he's doing. Whichâof course he does. âYouâre the worst,â you mutter.
âIâm your worst,â he says, soft and teasing. You swallow. The blanket suddenly feels a little too warm. A long moment passes with the two of you just⊠lying there. Watching Cam and Mitch bumble through fatherhood while Satoruâs fingers trace delicate lines higher and higher on your leg, never quite crossing the line, but dancing at the edge of it. Heâs so casual about itâlike this is normal now. Like itâs his right to touch you, to be here, stretched out in your bed and smirking at you like youâre already his. But this time, he leans in and kisses your jawâsoft, slow, and maddeningly smugâyou donât pull away. Youâre kind of surprised, you didnât think heâd just⊠do that. Your face is still warm from his jaw kiss, but you tryâtryâto keep your attention on the TV. Itâs useless. You can feel him watching you now, feel the soft trail of his fingers inching up your thigh again beneath the blanket. Barely touching. Barely even real. âYouâre nervous,â he says quietly, amused. âDonât like me touching you?â He hums playfully, squeezing your thigh.
âNo, Iâm not,â you mutter, not meeting his eyes.
âYou are,â he insists, voice dropping. âYouâre so twitchy. What, am I distracting?â You glare at him, but he just grins.
âGod, youâre annoying.âÂ
He leans closer, chin resting on your shoulder, lips right by your ear. âYou didnât think I was annoying when you were moaning my name in that bathroom.â You freeze, body going still all at once. Then you punch him weakly in the arm, because what the fuck is he even trying to do right now. âThat was so unnecessary.â
âWas it?â he hums. ââCause you sound a little breathless right now.â You hate him. You do. Especially when his hand starts tracing the hem of your oversized hoodie, pushing it up so slowly your brain short-circuits. Itâs featherlight, like heâs giving you time to stop him. You donât. Instead, you clutch the blanket tighter as his fingers drag higher up your thigh, brushing over the edge of your underwear like heâs not doing anything at all. âSatoru,â you whisper, a warningâor a plea, youâre not sure. His mouth is back at your ear. âMm, I love when you say it like that.â Then, casually, he lifts the blanket and looks. You panic. âHeyâ!â But heâs smirking now, pupils darker, lips parted a little as he eyes your bare legs, the little black cotton panties with a small lace trim that were not meant for an audience today. âCute,â he murmurs, like heâs impressed, like you planned this. âDidnât take you for a lace girl.â
âI didnât ask for commentary.â you whisper-shout, trying to tug the blanket back downâbut he catches your wrist. His other hand slides fully under your hoodie now, across your stomach, warm and flat, and you whimper when his thumb brushes just under the band of your underwear. You shouldnât let him. You really shouldnât. But his voice is so low, so goddamn casual, as he says: âWant me to help you relax?â Your breath stutters. He shifts closer, practically between your legs now, his face inches from yours, and that cocky smirk is goneâreplaced by something slower. Hungrier. His hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him, and your eyes flutter shut because this is so bad, but you donât want him to stop.
And thenâ
You feel his fingers press down through the fabric, right against your core. You gasp, one hand flying to his chest like you could push him awayâbut you donât. You curl your fingers into his hoodie instead.Â
âStill watching Modern Family?â he whispers, like itâs a joke, like heâs not circling you over your underwear with unbearable gentleness. âYouâre the worst person alive,â you hiss. âMm, maybe,â he murmurs, lips grazing your cheek. âBut Iâm making you feel so good right now, arenât I?â You donât answer. You canâtânot when heâs pressing a little harder, rubbing small, unhurried circles into your clit above your panties, and watching your face like he wants to memorize it. And thenâthenâhe moves down. You squeak, trying to grab at him, but he pins your hips with both hands and laughs into your stomach, breath hot against your skin as he pulls your underwear to the side.
âRelax,â he says again, and this time itâs softer. âLet me take care of you.â You suck in a breath, the kind that gets trapped in your throat and goes nowhere. He has your thighs spread, his palms anchoring them down to the mattress as he looks at youâreally looks at youâwith that ravenous kind of amusement. âYouâre shaking,â he murmurs against your hipbone, lips brushing it like an afterthought. âNo, Iâm not,â you breathe, even though you definitely are. One slow kiss, then another, lower now, until youâre arching just a little, just enough. You try to close your legs, try to pull the hoodie back down, try anything to regain a sliver of controlâbut his hands just tighten around your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you. âSettle down,â he says again, voice dropped to something filthy.Â
âGod, you're always so wound up. Gonna eat that pussy so good youâll become nice ân easy fâme.â And then you feel him lick a stripe up your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts like itâs been electrocuted.
âSatoruââ
âShh,â he says, almost absentmindedly, like heâs focused. Like heâs thinking about what heâs going to do to you and not much else. His fingers trail back up, slow, pushing your hoodie higher, letting his knuckles brush your ribs. He mouths at your skin the whole way upâyour stomach, your side, your breasts, paying extra attention to your hardened nipplesâbefore dragging himself back down again with that same dizzying patience. "You're not stopping me," he murmurs, breath ghosting over your soaked underwear. âSo either you really want me to behave badly or you're just shy about asking.â You cover your face with one hand. âOh my god.â
 He chuckles, dragging his tongue over your inner thigh again. âThatâs not a no.â And then he finallyâfinallyâslips your underwear to the side and drags a single, long finger through your folds. You gaspâloudly this timeâand his grip on your thigh tightens.
âFuck,â he whispers, almost reverent. âYouâre so wet.â
You canât respond. You canât even think. He takes his time, thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers prod at your entrance gently, teasing, but not thrusting them in. And then his mouth replaces his fingers. You cry outâlike, actually cry outâas he licks you, slow and indulgent, like he's tasting dessert. One of his hands stays on your thigh, firm and possessive, and the other slips up to squeeze your waist, your breast, anything he can reach. And his mouthâgod, his mouth moves in unhurried circles, like heâs savoring it, like he missed this. He drags his tongue up, swirling around your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving it a little suck, before dragging his tongue down to circle against your entrance torturously. Youâre squirming again. But this time, he lets you. âYeah,â he murmurs between licks, âthatâs more like it. You sound so sweet when you stop pretending you donât want me.â You bite your knuckle to keep quiet, but he catches your hand and pulls it away. âLet me hear you,â he says, more serious now. âI want you to be loud for me.âAnd thenâhe uses his fingers too. He slips one inside, knuckle deep as he pumps it in and out, adding a second one when he hears you whine his name.Â
âThatâs it, baby.âÂ
You writhe, head falling back into the pillows, one arm flung over your eyes as he builds you up with an obscene kind of precisionâhis tongue, his fingers, the soft praise he keeps murmuring in between. âYouâre doing so good for me.â He harshly sucks at your clit again, all while his fingers are pistoning in and out of you, causing you to clamp down. âFeel how hard youâre clenching?â You're dripping. Youâre trembling. You're seconds away from falling apart, and he knows it. But he slows down. You whine, hips rocking. âSatoruââ
He pulls back just a little, breath warm against your thigh. âSay it.â
âSay what?â
âWhat you want.â You blink at him, dazed. "You're literallyâinside meâ"
He grins. âStill. Say it.â Your face burns, but your voice is desperate now. âPlease.â
âPlease what?â
âSatoru,â you choke, âplease donât stop eating me out.â And he doesnât. He keeps going until you fall apart for him, loud and shaking and so far gone that the only word on your lips is his name. You come, his name falling off your lips like a mantra while he continues licking and slurping until you quite literally yank his head off from between your thighs. And even thenâhe doesnât move. He kisses you once, soft and slow, like heâs easing you back into your body. Then again, higher up this time, then again, like he canât quite stop. Your hoodie is bunched under your arms. Your thighs are limp. Your bodyâs still tremblingâsoft and flushed and pliantâwhen he presses a kiss just below your navel and murmurs, âTold you Iâd take care of you.â
You barely manage to lift your head. âI hate you.â
He grins against your skin. âLiar.â You want to respond. You do. But then heâs kissing his way up, slow and lazy, nudging your hoodie higher until it bunches just above your tits. You whimper into his mouth as he moves up to kiss you again, deeper this time, and while youâre distractedâdazed and gaspingâhe grabs your thighs and pulls them apart, slotting himself between them like itâs his god-given right. His hands palm at your breasts lazily, grinning when he feels you buck your hips against the bulge in his sweats, canines out on display as he grins down at you. âSatoru,â you breathe, but he just smiles.
âRound two, baby.âÂ
Youâre still in your hoodie and pantiesâjust tugged out of placeâand he doesnât bother taking them off. Instead, he hooks his fingers into the band and pushes them aside again like itâs easy, like itâs familiar now. And then heâs grinding down against you, hard and slow, through his sweats, and you moan so loudly he laughs. âYou that sensitive already?â he teases, rolling his hips again. âShitâlook at you. Still twitching.âÂ
âShut up.â
âNo,â he purrs, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw. âNot when youâre soaking through your panties like that. You think Iâm gonna shut up now?â You try to glare at him. It fails. He grabs your hand, his plush bottom lip between his teeth, white lashes fluttering when you take the hint and squeeze him through his sweats.
âMmfâ Not that Iâm pressuring you or anything, but sweets I need youââ
âYou are not pressuring me, so please, hurry up before I genuinely explode.â
âWow, so eager for me. Having my tongue in you wasnât enough?â
âJust put it in already before I punch youââ
âFine! But I donât have condoms on me right now, used the last one up to fuck you on that sink, remember?â
âI donât care, Iâm on birth control anywaysââ
Then heâs pushing his sweats down just enough, lining himself upâand you gasp, grabbing his shoulders as he slides in so slowly you think you might cry. He hisses through his teeth. âFuckâstill so tight. Like youâre trying to squeeze me out.â
âMaybe I am.â
He laughs again, shaky and breathless. âToo bad. Iâm not going anywhere. Other than this pussy.â He sets a rhythmâslow at first, deep and dragging, rocking into you like he wants to take his timeâbut the moment your nails dig into his back and your breath hitches, he growls and picks up pace. His mouth is everywhereâyour throat, your collarbone, your lipsâand all the while heâs muttering filth against your skin:
âYou feel that? How good I fill you up?â
âBet youâve been thinking about this all week, huh?â
âSay my name again. Câmon, baby. Say it while I fuck you.â You do. Over and over. At some point, he shiftsâsits back on his heels and pulls you with him, dragging your hips into his lap. The new angle makes your vision blur.
âOh my godâSatoruââ
âThere she is,â he groans, watching where your bodies meet, sweat-slick hair falling over his forehead. âSo fucking pretty like this. Gonna come again for me?â You nod helplessly. He just grins and thrusts harder. And when you fall apart a second timeâloud and breathless and clinging to him like youâll never let goâhe follows with a broken moan, burying his face in your neck as he shudders and pulses inside you, the warmth seeping from his cock making you shudder. For a long moment, thereâs only your breathing. Then, finally, he flops onto the bed beside you, tugs you into his chest, and says, âSo⊠no head?â You groan. He laughs. And somewhere beneath the covers, his hand is already sliding down your thigh again.
âRound three?â he says, hopeful.
You smack him with a pillow.
He still ends up getting round three.
And then round four.
And then round five, until you both are so exhausted and sweaty that he almost falls asleep instead of getting up to wipe the copious amounts of him trickling out onto your thighs. Once youâre cleaned up, he flops next to you dramatically, limbs sprawled across the bed like a starfish, chest rising and falling. âIâm the love of your life,â he murmurs, trailing a lazy hand across your stomach. âYou just donât wanna admit it yet.â
âBold of you to assume Iâm not filing a restraining order first thing tomorrow.â He fake gasps, curling into you like you mortally wounded him. âYouâre evil.âÂ
You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. âAnd youâre much more evil than me.â
âAnd yet.â He kisses your shoulder. âYou let me hit five rounds.â You shove him again, but itâs gentle this time. Less of a shove, more of a pat. He takes it as an invitation to climb on top of you, settling there like a smug human blanket. âYouâre heavy,â you complain, breath catching when his nose brushes yours. âYouâre soft,â he says, grinning. You smack his arm again, and he laughs like this is the happiest heâs ever beenâlike lying half-naked on you, sweaty and spent, is the best part of his day.Â
âHey,â he says after a moment, quieter now, eyes still a little mischievous but softer at the edges. âI meant it, yâknow. Earlier.â
âMeant what?â
âThat I wanna take care of you.âÂ
Your breath hitches. He kisses your forehead like heâs sealing a promise. âNot just when Iâm being disgusting.â You look up at himâthis boy with starlight in his eyes and trouble in his grinâand your chest does a weird little flip. âOkay,â you whisper. âOkay,â he echoes, and grins so wide it hurts. âBut just to clarify, I am still gonna be disgusting.â Heâs tracing shapes on your back with lazy fingers. Random squiggles, probably. Or maybe dicks. Itâs Satoruâyou can never be sure. But then he pauses. And says, softly, âIâm serious though.âÂ
You blink against his skin. âAbout being disgusting? Yeah, we all know.â He chuckles, but itâs a breath short of his usual dramatics. âNo,â he says, thumb brushing the curve of your waist. âAbout you. About this.â Your heart stutters, because the air suddenly shiftsâgoes tender and quiet and a little fragile. You pull back just enough to see his face. Heâs looking at you. Not in the way he usually doesâlike youâre a puzzle he already knows how to solve, or a joke heâs waiting for you to get. Heâs just looking. Like youâre real. Like youâre his.
âSatoruâŠâ
âI like you,â he says, simple as anything. âLike, actually. Not just because youâre hot and Iâve seen your underwear drawer, totally on accident, I came to drop your take out in your roomâalthough, bonus.âÂ
You huff a laugh. âWow. Youâre really bad at this.â
âIâm being vulnerable, asshole.â You grin despite yourself, heart pounding. âSorry. Continue.â He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at you, messy hair falling into his eyes. âI didnât mean for it to be like this,â he says, voice lower now. âDidnât think Iâd end up catching feelings for my little sisterâs best friend who constantly calls me a freak.â
âYou are a freak,â you murmur.
âRight, but now Iâm your freak.â You stare at him.Â
âSatoru.âÂ
He snorts. âOkay, fair. But Iâve been gone for three years, and then I come back and suddenly youâre all grown up and hot and stomping around the apartment like you donât even know what youâre doing to me.â You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are burning. âAnd then,â he continues, brushing his fingers along your cheek, âwe actually start talking again and youâre smart and annoying and make me laugh, and youâre just so perfect⊠Like, I genuinely cannot express it in words, and I was stupid to think that you were like a sister to me. Because you're really not. You're so, so far from that assumption of mine that I wanna write it out in an essay just to prove to you how badly I want you in the most romantic way possible and in the least sisterly way possible.â You blink. He looks down, lips twitching faintly. âAnd now Iâm totally fucked, because I donât not want you anymore. I just want this. You. Always.âÂ
You swallow, heart in your throat. âYou mean that?â
âDead serious.â He grins, but itâs gentler now. âUnless youâre about to reject me, in which case I was absolutely joking and this never happened.â You laugh, a real one this time, and you kiss him before he can keep talkingâsoft and lingering, your fingers curling in his hair. When you pull back, heâs staring at you with stars in his eyes. âOkay,â you whisper. âYou win. I like you too. A lot. But for clarification I always liked you in a very non brotherly way.â He raises an eyebrow. âSo⊠youâre saying Iâm your freak now?â You groan, burying your face in his chest. âRegret.âÂ
But his arms are already around you, holding you tight. âToo late,â he murmurs into your hair, smiling like he just got everything heâs ever wanted. âYouâre stuck with me.â You groan, dragging the blanket over your head. âGo to sleep, dickhead.â
âI will,â he says, pulling the blanket down to kiss you. âRight after I cuddle the love of my life.â
âGross.â
âYou like me.â
âI do not.â
âYou let me do unspeakable things to you thirty minutes ago.â
ââŠShut up.â
âLove of my liiiiiife.â
âSeikoâs gonna murder me.â
âSheâll have to kill me first.â You roll your eyes, but when he finally lays down properly, arm slung around your waist, legs tangled with yours, you realize you're smiling again. Like an idiot. A very, very satisfied idiot.
You wake up the next morning, tangled in Satoruâs arms and covered in way too many bite marks to explain away, whenâ
âHEYâhave you seen Satoruââ
The door bursts open. You jolt upright. Seiko stands frozen in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, her mouth dropping open in real-time. You barely get out a squeaky âWaitâ!â beforeâ
âOH MY GOD!â She SCREAMS, turns on her heel, and is sprinting down the hallway. You immediately start panicking. âSatoru. Satoru. Wake up. She sawâshe SAWâoh my god, weâre so done, sheâs gonna KILL MEââ
He groans and pulls the blanket back over his head like a child. âItâs fine.â
âItâs not fine, I fucked your sisterâs brother! WaitâI am your sisterâsâwhatever! Itâs over! Itâsââ
âRelax,â he says, tugging you back down to the bed effortlessly. âCâmere. If Iâm going to die today, I want to die cuddling.â
âYouâre insufferable.â
âMm,â he hums, nosing into your hair. âGood morning, girlfriend.â
âYouâre gonna make me throw up.â
âSpeaking of,â he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw, âany interest in morning sex? I feel like I didnât fully appreciate round four last night. Too much of my blood was in my ears.â You slap his chest. âYouâre not serious.â
You both sit up in bed, tangled in sheets, wide-eyed. There stands Suguru, holding up a phone like a camcorder. Seiko is beside him, arms crossed and pouting like you just ruined her birthday.Â
âSuguru what the fuckââ
âSay hi to the camera!â he beams. âI bet Seiko fifty bucks you two would be together by the start of the month. Thank you for not making me lose money, I really needed this win.â
âSUGURU,â you yell, diving under the blanket like you can hide from your sins. âDELETE THAT RIGHT NOW.â
Seiko flops dramatically onto your bed like itâs her dignity thatâs been compromised. âCouldnât you have waited one more week to bang my brother? You had no self-control?â Satoru is laughing. Fully laughing, his head tipped back like this is the best morning of his life.
âWhy are you mad at her?â he asks Seiko. âIâm the one who did all theââ
âNOPE!â Seiko shouts, throwing a pillow at his face. âNope. Absolutely not. Iâm leaving.â
âLeaving with the footage,â Suguru smirks, zooming in. You lunge at him with a second pillow. âSUGURU I SWEAR TO GODââ Satoru just sighs contentedly, dragging you back into bed. âHonestly? This is better than morning sex.â
âYouâre the worst person alive.â He kisses your cheek. âLove you too, sweets.â
â
Dating Gojo Satoru is somehow exactly what you expected and also nothing like it at all.
Because yesâheâs still cocky. Still dramatic. Still flirts with you like itâs a sport and throws your shared laundry onto the fan when heâs bored. But he also brings you coffee before your 9AMs, lets you wear his hoodies even though he grumbles about you âstretching them out with your cute little shoulders,â and texts you things like âmissing u like crazy. come home and bully me đâ when youâre gone for more than three hours. Seiko, naturally, has not let you live. âI literally canât believe you,â she sighs one morning over brunch, watching you and Gojo bicker over who gets the last pancake like itâs her personal sitcom. âI brought him into this house and you betrayed me by falling for him.â You blink at her innocently. âTechnically I was in love with him before I moved in.â
âThatâs not helping your case.â
âSheâs gonna be your sister-in-law one day,â Satoru says with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. âYou should be happy.â
âIâm going to be sick,â she deadpans, sipping her coffee. âI donât know who disgusts me moreâyou for dating her, or her for dating you.â You and Satoru just exchange a look. Then you make out across the table.
Loudly. Seiko drops her fork.Â
âIâm leaving the country.â
Later That Week â Somewhere in His Car, 11:42 PM
Itâs a warm night. The kind that clings to your skin and makes the windows fog up, even though all youâre doing is eating ice cream in the backseat of Satoruâs ridiculous Lexus like teenagers who just discovered kissing. You're wearing one of his shirts. Heâs got his arm lazily around your shoulder, legs stretched out, cone half-melted in his hand. Music hums softly from the speakersâsome dreamy indie song he said reminded him of you once.
âI used to wear bras that were too big just because I thought you liked girls with big tits,â you say, out of nowhere.
He chokes.
âWhat?â
You shrug, licking your spoon. âYup. Used to stuff socks in them sometimes too. And I tried wearing eyeliner in like⊠freshman year. I looked like a raccoon. But I was like, âhe likes girls with winged liner.â So.â
Gojo is crying. Literal tears are in his eyes as he wheezes, âYou wore sock boobs for me?!â
âI was thirteen and stupidly in love with your furby looking ass,â you grumble, face burning. âNooo,â he says through laughter, clutching his stomach. âNo way. You were cosplaying as a B-cup for me??â
âI canât believe Iâm telling you this.â
âIâm honored. I feel chosen.â You roll your eyes, fake sulking. âAnd you didnât even notice. Wow.â He wipes his eyes, still smiling like a menace. âOkay but to be fair, I was like⊠what, seventeen? If I had noticed, it wouldâve been a little criminal.â
You groan. âFine, I guess youâre right.â He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. âBut I notice everything now.â You narrow your eyes. âSmooth.â
âDid it work?â You nod, slow. âYeah. Unfortunately.â You sit in silence for a second, ice cream long forgotten. His thumb grazes the side of your jaw as he looks at you like he already knows every version of youâthe teenage one with stuffed bras, the sarcastic college version who screamed at him in group projects, the current one whoâs still a little awkward when sheâs vulnerable but learning to let him in anyway. âYouâre my favorite person,â he says suddenly, like itâs the most obvious thing in the world. And you canât even pretend to be cool about it.
âGod,â you whisper, burying your face in his hoodie. âDonât make me cry while Iâm holding a fudge sundae.â He laughs, pulling you closer, arms wrapping fully around your waist. âNo promises,â he mumbles into your hair. âBut Iâve got napkins.â You kiss him, soft and unhurried. He tastes like vanilla. The windows fog up a little more. Somewhere in the distance, your phone buzzes. Probably Seiko texting a third reminder that you âbetter not be defiling her brother in public.â But you ignore it. Because for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. Just you, him, and a car that smells like waffle cones and warm cotton and a hundred what-ifs that have all finally, finally become yeses.
â
Bonus cause Iâm the worldâs best author or whatever
Five Years Later
Itâs a warm spring afternoon. The kind of day where the skyâs cloudless, the flowers look fake because theyâre so stupidly perfect, and everyone you love is slightly too drunk and happy. Youâre in white. Obviously. Satoruâs in a custom tux, sunglasses perched in his snow-white hair like he thinks heâs a celebrityâwhich, okay, fine, he kind of is, judging by the way your cousin nearly fainted when he winked at her. Your fingers are still linked as you sit at the wedding table, watching the crowd buzz with post-dinner energy. The string lights are glowing. Thereâs champagne in your glass. He keeps leaning over to kiss your shoulder because he âcanât help himself,â and you keep swatting him away because the photographer is still here, but youâre smiling like a fool.
And thenâ
âAlright, alright, everyone, shut upââ comes Seikoâs voice from the speakers. You both freeze. Satoru immediately grins. âOh god.âÂ
âSheâs giving her speech,â you whisper, gripping his knee.
âI should be scared,â he whispers back. âSheâs your best friend and my sister.âÂ
Up at the mic, Seiko clears her throat. She looks gorgeous, by the wayâan elegant dress, her ivory hair so similar to her brothers glinting underneath the lights, champagne in hand, and a very pointed expression on her face. âSo,â she says. âHi. Iâm Seiko. Iâm the brideâs best friend⊠and unfortunately, the groomâs younger sister.â
Laughter.Â
âI just wanna sayâwhen I was little, I always dreamed of giving a speech at my best friendâs wedding. But I definitely didnât think it would be this one.â More laughter. You bury your face in your hands. âLet me paint a picture,â she continues dramatically, starting to pace the stage like a stand-up comic. âItâs a regular Tuesday morning. I come out of my room, ready to microwave my sad breakfast. Iâm on my way to the kitchen, when I suddenly spot my brotherâs shoes and think, âHuh, why are Satoruâs shoes here, in front of (your name)âs room?â Because my brother wasnât supposed to be home. He had told me he was gonna be out with friends until the next morning. And his shoes sure as hell had never been outside my best friendâs room.â
Gojo groans next to you, forehead hitting the table.Â
âAnd I think, âOh no. Oh no no no.â So I walk down the hallway. I open her bedroom door. And what do I see?â
Seiko pauses. The crowd leans in. She lifts her glass. âMy brother,â she says, tone flat, âin my best friendâs bed.â
The room erupts.
Satoruâs face is in his hands. Youâre laughing so hard your shoulders shake. âI screamed,â Seiko says dramatically, over the noise. âShe screamed. He didnât scream, because the bastard was asleep. And then I lost fifty goddamn dollars to Suguru, who bet me theyâd get together before the end of the month.â Camera pans to Suguru in the crowd, smug as hell, arm around Seikoâs waist, raising his glass. â And now,â Seiko says, grinning, âIâm standing here giving this speech, engaged to the man who profited off their hookup, and forced to admit that... I guess love wins. Or whatever.â Laughter. Cheers. Satoru clutches your hand and kisses your knuckles. Seiko softens. Just a little. âBut in all seriousness,â she says, voice a bit shakier now, âyou two are it. The real thing. And Iâm so happy that my best friend is now officially my sister-in-lawâeven if I had to walk in on her mid afterglow to get here.â
Groans. Cheers. Chants of âSISTER-IN-LAW! SISTER-IN-LAW!â Youâre laughing through tears now, forehead pressed against Gojoâs. âI love you guys,â Seiko finishes, raising her glass high. âNow go make out or whatever. Itâs your wedding.â You blow your best friend a kiss, before leaning into your husband, his arm snaking around you to pull you to his chest.Â
âShe really brought up the bed thing,â you mumble against his chest. âShe absolutely did,â he murmurs, nose in your hair.
 âAnd the socks in the bra thing didnât get a shoutout? Unfair.â He laughs, holding you tighter. âMaybe weâll save that one for the ten-year vow renewal.â You tilt your head up. âThink weâll make it to ten years?â
 He smiles, wide and stupid and glowing. âWeâll make it to forever.âÂ
 You kiss him, slow and full of everything. And the lights twinkle above like theyâre cheering you on.
authors note: hi everyone! i hope u liked it LOL i sacrificed my sleep for this i hope it was worth it! i can finally prepare for my exams without the looming anxiety of posting this ^.^
synopsis. geto's got a sweet tooth for his pretty partner in culinary arts. rumor has it gojo wants a taste too. the two chefs compete on which one can make you cream the most.
total wc. 5.8k
warnings. satosugu x fem!reader, college au, squirting, (geto) eats it from the back, double penetration, unprotected s*x, dumbfication, dirty talk, oral (fixation), overstim, them basically fighting over you.
an. wrote this bcâŠi'm hungry </3 random stsg brain rot lawl
âyou're a fine cook, you know?â
your eyebrows raised as both of your hands rested against the edge of the laminate-glassed counter.
taking off your toque to give geto direct eye contact, he continued to speak. âi still think your banana pudding was the best.â
âoh, thank you,â you mumbled, and geto stood tall - the size difference was truly immaculate.
broad shoulders yet a very much lean body.
he had his hands buried and dug into the holes of his pockets, flipping the apron near his white coat to the side before giving you a soft smile. âi wish i could have tried your desert, chef kept rushing everyone to clean up earlier.â
âyou still can,â geto mutters, and you stare up at him. his voice was somewhat teasing but stoic.
his body language was simply suaveâŠhe leaned against the counter as he spoke before making a few inches toward you. his eyes trail down, and his thumb swiftly swipes against the side of your cheekâexcess sweet cream of his infamous banana pudding. âit still has its flavor. vanilla, my personal favorite.â
he was so close to you, that his body heat practically radiated against you, not literally though.
you were deep in thought as he was directly propped up beside you.
âmay iâŠ?â
he's got his dessert in hand, and it was a slice of vanilla cakeâneatly decorated at the top with a cherry topping, just a good enough glance, and your mouth is damn near watering. itâs decadent with sweet cream and icing, you nearly forgot how to speak.
âyeah.. yeah...yes please.â
you didnât even realize how needy you sounded, just a few inches of your tongue and youâd be licking your lips.
geto cups a hand over your chinâhis dark focused gaze, pretty lashes of his fluttering throughout each blink. he scoops a good amount from the stainless-steeled fork and brings it towards your glimmering plump lips.
âopen a little for me, pretty.â
his voice, it was a mere whisperâŠ
as you parted your lips slightly for him to press the fork inside, the piece of cake now going onto your tongueâyou couldnât deny, just those words alone had you feeling a certain type of way. geto's eyes never left yours the entire time. as the intimate lustful gaze continues, you feel the soft back of his thumb pad gingerly stroking the corner of your mouth.
the taste of the cake. . . just amazing.
dramatic was a good enough word to depict for you because as soon as the icing slicked against your lipsâthe pure flavor, the sweet sweet vanilla mixed with a single dash of vanilla extract, the cavity-coated sugary taste, and oh⊠cinnamon.
âmhmâŠâ
you paused, feeling a heatwave of utter embarrassment wash over you. you let off the dirtiest moan imaginable. all from a taste of cake from geto. the smile remains on his near-perfect crooked lips before he hums, placing the fork aside.
âyou must really enjoy it, huh?â
even his chuckle was sexy, such bass in his voice was enough to have you soaked right underneath your formal kitchen attireâdirectly underneath your apron, he couldnât see but your legs were squeezed shut together, tight.
âyeah, itâs um..good.â
âjustâŠgood?â he teases, his long gorgeous dark strands of hair were downâŠflawlessly dancing over his broad shoulders. some strands cutely poking through his toque top-hat. his eyes were nearly fucking you on its own.
eyes half closed, seducing.
âah wait. you have more icing on your mouth. tsk, youâre so messy...â
geto leans in, his thumb still strokes and strokes against your mouth before he leans inâand you nearly slip out a whine from the constant teasing. you were about to open your mouth before he raised his brows.
âjust say it. i donât have to use my fingers to clean your mouth, princess.â
just those words alone were enough to have you dripping between your thighs, your hands gripped against the back edges of the counter before you spoke in a soft shaky voice. ââŠkiss me, suguru. please.â
âopen.â
as soon as he leaned in to kiss you, you immediately moaned, feeling the slow and sensual swirly lick he made just from his tongue.
he laps up the tiny remnants of creamy icing that was just near the side of your mouth. only before focusing himself on your lips now, the kiss was tasty just like the ingredients of his cake.
geto's got one hand on your chin, another on your waist. youâre propped against the counter and heâs so warmâŠ
you could taste the sweetness of his dessert on his tongue, he takes a few seconds to depart from your lipsâdragging a tongue gently and slowly from your mouth to your neck.
âyou taste so good.â he huffs out, his voice low, creating kiss trails near your collarbone and you moaned before he went back up to kiss you. getoâs strong manly cologne scent wafts against your nose as you tug on his chef coat, desperate for more than just his sweet tongue.
âyo, suguru do we have anymoreââ
the both of you broke away immensely at the sound of a familiar voice, no one another than gojo satoru.
great.
heâs got quite the look on his face, wearing loose sweatpants. his apron was half on and he looked insanely attractive even while dressed down.
a sudden smug grin appears on his face. âohâŠ!â he says dramatically, hands of his going right on his hips, âpft. is this why you didnât wanna hang after culinary suguru? you decided finally gonna get laid?â
âshut up.â geto grunts, and his entire mood is ruined. you suddenly felt embarrassed, in such heat of a moment then gojo just had to show up.
âheh,â he snickers before walking towards you, and gojoâs so tall, the both of them are but heâs equivalent to a skyscraper.
he stares you down with pretty cerulean-hued eyes, doing the same motion geto did.
a swift thumb strokes against your cheek and he speaks in an almost husk yet playful tone. âhmph. i wanted you first, shame sugu got the first taste. now thatâs no fair.â
ââŠyou both can have me.â
they both share the same nonplus expression at your blurted wordsâyou didnât even know where that came from, but at this point, you didnât care. geto already made a mess out of you, barely even doing anything but kissing you, and oh how wet you were between your legs.
seeing them both in front of you only continued to make you pulse quicken, hungrily yearning for more.
âreally?â they both say at the same time, in sync. you were already so hot and bothered by geto, you only could have imagined what it felt like being with the both of them.
you nodded, your impatience was wearing so thin.
gojo snakes an arm around your waist before geto grabs him, nudging him lightly. ânot here, idiot. we can just go back to my dorm.â
âŠthere, you laid flat on getoâs flat-sized mattress, and gojo was directly next to youâa hand cupping your chin as his lips were pressed against yours.
he tasted sweet, your tongue curled against his and the flavor that coated him made you moan in his mouth. the forms of his lips curving into a smile pressed up against you. you felt it, and you moaned again feeling geto kneel to spread your legs open for him.
he took his time, getoâs warm lengthy fingers softly caressed your legs, slowly pulling down your formal jean attire, creating multiple kisses near your inner thighs, and his tongueâŠ
gently dragging his tongue up your leg slowly until he reaches your panties, pants halfway on he pulls them down fully before giving you a three-second glance.
âfeel how soaked she is, satoru.â geto murmurs.
âbet she is,â gojo snickers, and you whined once you felt him trail a hand down between your legs to give your laced undergarments that were deeply soaked, a good enough squeeze. âhm. wonder whoâs makin' her this wet,â and then he hums, bringing a kiss towards your collarbone before grinningâwhispering underneath his breath, it fans against your chest and makes you shudder. ââŠobviously me.â
âdonât get too cocky,â geto rolls his eyes in vex, and you let off a soft whimper once you look down to see the long-haired man stare at you with a relaxed smile plastered on his face. his eyebrows raise just slightly before he gives you a subtle sexy head nod. âmind putting my hair into a ponytail, sweets?â
his voice was so low and attractive with each syllable he spoke throughout his words.
his pronunciation even was just so filthy, his entire demeanor. you were drenched between your pretty thighs to even fathom anything else.
âokay,â you mumbled, taking his thin hair tie, softly pulling a good amount of his soft strands, maneuvering your hands swiftly around before securing it in a tight yet loose ponytail.
âmmâŠ.thank you,â he says, and geto leans in to give the middle part of your panties a slow lick towards your legs twitch and you moan, going back against the bed before gojo starts to unclasp your culinary coat.
running his fingers against the thick fabric, he starts planting kisses everywhere around your mouth and neckâuntil he starts sucking against your skin. and gojo smelled so good too, both of them wore such strong cologne, but gojoâs scent was a bit louder.
manly and sharp, it was intoxicating. each teasing sucks gojo created against your neck, the soft foreplay licks geto made towards the very print of your panties.
justâŠfuck.
your head went back in raptureâpleasure, a hand making on the crown of getoâs head, giving his ponytail a light yank before whining. âjust..eat me out please suguru. canât take it anymore.â
âpoor baby,â gojo fake pouts, and he makes you turn your position, lying flat on your stomach now and he towers over you. heâs pressing his knees against the bed as heâs in front with geto behind. âwhat, what whaaaatâŠ?â he taunts, watching you desperately claw your fingers towards his sweats, his visible bulge looked so appetizingâyou could only imagine how big this idiot was. âya wanna occupy that mouth while sugu eats you out, yeah?â
âuh huh.â
you nodded, and gojo grows more cocky, craving it badly.
geto uses two fingers to slide your panties to the side - starting slow with a long stripe lick towards your pre-soaked pussy and you whimpered.
geto's eyes close for a brief momentâusing both hands to spread your ass just a bit, dipping his tongue between your slit, savoring the sugary taste. once he started there was no stopping, in his dirty mind, he imagined your pussy was the sweetest dessert he's ever crafted with his own two hands.
cakeâŠcupcakesâŠfucking ice creamâŠ
his saliva was practically syrupy from how much he was nearly being coated from just your mess alone. some of it runs down the side of his mouth and heâs just such a messy eater.
ââŠdonât gimme that look, baby,â gojo grunts, his smileâa half-skittish one at that, his pants sag and droop from his waistline before you pull them down just to expose his white and blue boxers.
gojo brings your head close towards it with a swift hand around your throat lightly, rubbing your face all against his bulge, the stretchy thin fabric protects his lower half to make you whine more.
âseeâŠfeel how..how hard you fuckin' make me? put your throat to good use for me,â and he lifts your headâmaking sure you keep direct eye contact. ââŠâokay satoruâ. say it, girl.â
you moaned, geto's so sloppy as heâs continuing to eat you out from behind, itâs devilishly nasty from how good he was at pleasing youâŠ
figures.
because he was one of the top cooks, not only would his meals be considered s-tier, but so would his tongue. every few seconds heâd spit on your cunt just to lap it up.
with the help of two thick fingers of his already stuffed inside you to make your body twitch and shudder beneath his hold.
âo-okay, satoru.â
stuttering for him, adorableâŠ
you mumbled, and he stares down at you with a cocksure expression, your fingers hungrily pull down his boxersâŠand his dick sprung out, your first initial thought was how pretty it was.
long, lengthy, and a little bit veiny, with such height to it that it towers. it was a faint shade of beige but with a dash mix of pink. he was well-trimmed, although managed to have a few specks of white hair near his base.
his base though⊠he was so full, stuffed. literal breeder balls, made your mouth water at just having that stuffed down your tight throatâŠ
damn.
you were so eager, you didnât want to waste time. gojo watches as you slide your tongue out, swirling it around his sensitive frenulum that was splattered with sticky pre-cum all over it, earning a grunt from him.
âohâŠ.s-shit⊠juuuust like that, yeah. all the way down.â
his girth was simply delicious, scrumptious even. your warm mouth opened him with open arms. sinking slowly every few seconds, he groans from feeling you moan down his shaft. and yet - at the same time, geto was sloppily dragging his tongue down your puffy pusst at the same time.
getoâs got a mouth on him, or tongue some might say. the way it flicks against your nub only to abuse it by sucking on it tenderly, savoring its sweet candied taste, your muffled moans fueled him with much desireâeven he started to feel himself get hard.
the unapologetic strain in his pants, ohâŠit was there. just bulging and bulging.
you whimpered at the gentle scrap of getoâs nose swiping against your pussy, equivalent to a credit card as it was checking for balance.
your eyes rolled back, although gojo wants you to keep your focus primarily on him though.
âmhm. fuckin' slob on it,â he grumbles, gripping the back of your head to lightly move you further and further against him.
his fat tip that was aching inside your mouth, pulsing with much content.
it starts to hit back against the very roof of your mouth, so sloppy, he wants you to be sloppyâŠ.you gag, drool spilling from the side of your lips and looking up at him with a cock-drunken grin. âyeahhh girl. thereâs that pretty smile. keep doin' that.â
gojoâs using your throat, fingers dug into your scalp and heâs got you being such a mess, such a slut.
he tastes so good, your tongue circulates against his tip. the sweetness yet tang of the bitterness of his pre-cum coats the very tip of your tongue, your tastebuds of yours taste everything.
sweet like candyâŠ.sweet like a pastry.
âshit, been hidin' this...dirty throat from me?â he moans, trying to laugh it off but failing. heâs giving you a stare, shooting daggers and heâs kind of embarrassed. your gaze towards him was so intimate. heâs making you bob your head up ân down with you breathing through each slit nostril. frantically, as you nearly hiccup on your saliva, you mewl out a melodic while once the top of his cock kisses your uvula.
âsheâs close, satoru,â geto mumbles, departing his lips for a split second to speakâa whimper rips from your voice at the hotly warm breath of his fanning against your clit, he drags a thumb down your pussy before giving it a light spank. âshould i, excuse meâŠ.should we let her?â he teases.
ââŠ.nahhh.â
you frown at the playful repetitive banter between the two of them going back and forthâlong strands of getoâs hair tickle against his skin the further he shoves his face between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man, his tongue was at such temperature, itâs very warmth feeling has butterflies co-existing into the very depths of your tummy.
âyou wanna cum, baby? âs that why you keep poutin' all stupid-like with my dick in your mouth?â
all you could do was nod your dumb head, up and down with the cutest scowl scattered across your face, pulling back up.
a singular pop leaves your lips once his twitching dick exists, and your glossed eyes stare at him. âs-satoruââ
âno, gorgeous. youâre supposed to be moaning my name.â geto grunts, giving your pussy another smack and you whimper. heâs just french kissing with your clit now, his entire technique made your toes curl, feeling such heat swell and build up inside of you, your mind raced and raced. âsuguru. not fuckin' satoru. tch.â
âahah, donât mind him, he gets jealous when things donât go his way.â gojo sneers, rubbing a hand underneath your chin.
your spit coats his fingers and he sticks his bottom lip out, fake pity as heâs toying with your mouth.
his dick grows soft inside and youâre nibbling on it now. your jaw ached a bit, youâre staring up at him and he gives you an abrupt head pat before groaning. ây-youâre gonna make me cum if ya keep sucking me slow like that, girl.â
you suddenly gasp, snapping out of your cock-drunken trance with a mean ass smack from geto. a haughty snicker escapes his lips in return and youâre cumming hard, itâs unexpected and your legs twitch practical mush.
only pathetic murmuring cacophonies of, âs-suguru,â and âo-oh my f-fucking goddd,â âs made their way out your throat once you stopped sucking gojo off for a few seconds.
your orgasm was rough, boisterous . . mercilessly slamming into you like a full-blown semi-truck.
his lips were still attached to your folds, dark eyebrows tugged together heâs determined on making you say his name, making you cum more than gojo ever could.
gojo rolllllls his eyes, dramatically as possible.
quite the drama queen he was. the actual epitome of it. gojo ends up concluding himself, swallowing hard as he sits on his knees. you instinctively slide your tongue out for him to spray it with many ropes and droplets of his cum.
âthaaaatâs it, clean me up baby.â he pants, his breath was shaky but he still finds time to flash a cheesy grin.
justâŠwriggling his eyebrows, so unserious. gojo turns his attention back towards you, and he watches you swallow every drop, savoring the taste.
it makes your eyes squeeze a little before you detach your lips, your own sheeny coated saliva running away from his dick.
geto stares at the both of you with a cute pique expressionâgojo leans down before stroking your chin, brushing his thumb against your lips whilst observing your features, âgimme a kiss. just like ya did to suguru.â
you scooted upwards on the bed, and his smirkâŠ
his white lashes were pretty, they lowered as he stared down at you, lingering over you even while on his knees. gojo always found a liking towards you. he didnât mind a bit of competition against his culinary peer, geto wasnât the only one who had a sweet tooth for you after all.
you lean into his touchâand his slender fingers ghost against the middle part of your neck, you open your mouth for him just a bit for him to swirl his tongue against yours sensually.
his lips brushed against yours, incredibly soft and plump. he couldnât help but suck on your tongue just a tad bit, not even minding tasting himself, his stickiness that remained.
âhow repulsive,â geto mumbles under his breath, pulling you away of gojoâs reach. geto stares down at you - and heâs quite handsome himself, still in a pussy drunken state, eyes half closed.
he looked gorgeous.
âsatoru,â he says, raising his head before he pulls you close to him. with a softly uttered oof, you land against his chest, and he rubs a hand caressingly down your back, brushing the tips of his fingers against the thin fabric of your tank top. âhow âbout we compete?â
as you cry out bundles of sweet ân blissful moans, geto brings his thinly parted lips towards the side of your neck while rubbing his hand against your pussy. oh- heâs just feeling how overly sensitive you still were, so needy and in such heat. you bit down on your lip as he continued to speak. âhmm⊠on who can make her cream the most?â
âme, obviously,â gojo immediately chuckles, as if that was the dumbest question imaginable. âi wanna get first dibs,â and then he pecks a kiss towards your nose. âcan i, pretty? ya fine with that?â
âyeah...â
you panted, getoâs feeling you up and heâs so toasty, so warm.
you were embarrassed enough as is with how sticky you were between your legs. your slick stuck against the crevices of your inner thighs like glue, every few seconds youâd catch geto staring at it, swiping a tongue against his lips as if he wanted to eat you out again, and again.
ââŠbaby.â gojo purrs, youâre pressed against your stomach.
the linen sheets rubbed off against your skin, velvet black sheets and you swallowed whatever pride you had left, glancing at the long rectangular mirror that stood in front of the three of you.
âtell me, yeah,â he pausesâŠand you choke out a needy whine, oh heâs teasing, ghosting his achy tip against your pussy. âhow do you like it? rough? soft, aggressive?â
and then he leans directly close towards youâhis chest hits against your back, and he playfully grinds against you with just his throbbing cock pulsing between you making you whimper out. âi wanna get to know this pussy before i just go all in, ya knowâŠ?â
âr-rough, please. just fuck me, satoru.â you sniffled, glancing up at geto whoâs got a relaxed smileâhe pursed his lips against each other before starting away with a flirtatious scoff.
he was jealous.
one he started, gojo was a monster, plain and simple. his stroke game was just downright mean.
heâs got you gripping the sheet, hanging on for dear life, and babbling the most ludicrous things out of your mouth, you canât even believe the things you were whining out.
as his dick buried inside of youâyour jaw nearly dropped open at full heâs got you, his length, the girth, and the fucking stretch of his cock has you drooling for more. âs-shit, shit more,â you begged, your voice trembling from his mean hits.
no remorse, your ass smacks and smacks against him loudly. it rings throughout your ears, making your teeth chatter just slightly. gojoâs hand wraps against the back of your throat. a tiny squeak comes out and surely enough, you find yourself smiling at your reflection. ânot too rough am i, pretty? âŠshe okay?â
pulling your eyebrows together in confusion, you were confused before realizing he was referring to your pussy. of courseâŠ
ân-no, i'm fine.â you choked out.
âgood, goooodâŠ.â
he's sexily grunting, and his hip movements were just animalistic. his frame snaps and jerks against you to where the mattress is just singing out adlibs in harmony. creak after creak after creak, it grows out to be annoyingâyet alasâŠyour dumb little brain can barely process anything anymore.
now you knew why they called it backshots for a reason.
gojoâs weight just barely lingers against your ass, your pussy was vocal too. itâd be quite foolish for it not to be.
it squelched and cried and even spat out many other various sounds all from gojoâs mean derogatory target hits against your very core. frail arms just dangling over the bed, being stretched thin by his dick, it's expanding and exploring your walls as if it was on a mission.
your pussy craved and yearned for more, pretty soon you were gonna cum againâheâs got your arms pinned behind your back, just driving and bullying his dick in and out of you. youâre speechless, lurching against the mattress your eyes roll back and gojo groans, âyour back arch is so pretty, baby,â he taunts, clicking his tongue in derision. âso whiney.â
ââŠyouâre hogging her, satoru.â geto grumbles, and he brings your body up to sit upâgojo scoffs, watching him take the initiative to kiss you again. you whimper in his mouth once you feel him bring a hand between your legs. gojo pulls out with a frown, watching geto steal you now.
his warm lips clashed against yoursâhe tasted so rich and sweet, the flavor, his flavor was just purely appetizing. as your tongue collided against his, heâs hungrily gripping your ass now, the thin middle part of your panties lazily pushed to the side, you could taste the tiniest sugary-coated cream of his pastry still on his lips. not to mention your slick as well, it still coated his chin, shimmery and all.
with a free hand, he pulls his hair out of a ponytail, and it flies loose. some of it tickles against your skin and you whined once he smacked your ass before presenting it with a good squeeze.
âyouâre greedy, suguru...â gojo pouts. âyou didnât even let me finish, man.â
feeling the tips of his ears seethe with hotness, gojo didnât wanna admit how hard it was to see you and geto make out with each other. getoâs hand placement was so attractiveâone resting on your hip, another on your bare ass, kissing his palm against your rear with a few spanks to make you moan such salacious moans and whimpers in his mouth.
you feel getoâs lips pursed into a smile at gojo being jealous now, he runs his tongue alongside yours, and he brings you closer to him.
you hook a leg around his waist and thatâs when his hands slide down your waist. âshe wasnât yours to begin with.â
he mutters, smiling at gojoâpulling away to lick down your neck and you whimpered.
âim joking, crybaby. guess i gotta share,â he pecks a kiss near your collarbone. geto stares into your eyes before relaxing his face, humming before leaning close to your ear. âthink you can take both of us, gorgeous?â
both�
you nod without hesitation, and gojo presses up against you before you crawl on top of getoâs lap.
he slouched back against his mattress with a smug grin, whipping his dick out. he was thicker while gojo was subtly longer. he still had inches to him, every single second you took to stare made your mouth water.
âtchâŠ.should be ridin' me instead,â he snarls underneath his breath, helping you slide your way down onto geto.
âcry about it.â geto shrugs, and the white-haired male only glares at him. you moaned, feeling getoâs thickness insert its way inside your pussy, past your folds. barely in and his tip was so fat. it was plump and stretched your cunt out to its supreme.
gojo tsks, stroking himself before rubbing himself against your leaky hole â your arms snake around getoâs shoulders and heâs staring at you. one hand of his slipping underneath your top to brush his thumbs against your perky nipples, making you whimper even more.
his tongue slithered against your bare skinâŠgiving it a good suck, his pearly white teeth playfully nibbles against your perked nipple and you whine.
âcan your pussy even fit two?â gojo pants, his voice shaky, embarrassingly soâheâs catching himself licking his lips, sinking his way inside you, now youâre just being double stuffed. youâre on getoâs lap with gojo positioned behind you.
feeling every inch, inches stuffing inside of you gojo spanks your ass. purposely leaning up close to you â heâs warm, his entire body is, and the fabric of his hoodie skims up against your back.
you hear him chuckle nervously against you, and you start to move your hips against geto. warm breath fanning against your earlobe before he playfully licks the side of your ear only to nibble on it to hide his moans.
ââŠmhm..babyâŠbaby,â he grunts, grabbing your hips to rock against him. gojo moans, melodically so, heâs practically jumping against you, youâre taking both of them and you bite down on your lip. geto leans back and watches the view of you riding him while getting inches from behind. âs-still gotta finish, âm a little sensitive still.â
âya think satoru should finish, princess? he looks like heâs about to cry,â geto sneers, his gaze as stoic as ever, he raises his head, a meaningless head tilts at you, locking eye contact and heâs so big.
gojoâs fingertips dig into the fat of your ass, spanking it and spanking it â the recoil turning him on even more and he just canât shut up. babbling nonsense, his bottom lip pokes out as he feels himself grow hotter, immense pressure building up as he was rutting himself against you, geto at the same time.
tag team.
ân-no.â you giggled, being caught by surprise once gojo wrapped his arms around you â body to body, his cold breath danced against your skin after each jittery pant of desperation.
geto only laughs at your answer, watching you keep up a somewhat reasonable pace with your hips, you lightly shove geto down against his back, swerving yourself against him, and heâs stretching you fully. âheâs been too bratty.â
damnâŠ
âeh?! y-you guys are fuckin' bulliesâŠâ
he spasms from the inside. with widened eyes, gojo gawks openly as his pink-reddened lip kisses its way through your insides lovingly. glassy eyes flicker down to see your pussy getting devoured by two thick cocks. you couldnât talk because you were moaning just as much as gojo, heâs so close to you, his scent, his loud scent that never failed to make you dizzy, âshit, i-i canât.â
âjust kidding, you can cum,â you whimpered, feeling gojo suddenly reach down to squeeze your pussy â kissing it with a few spanks from his hand.
your legs clench and tremble, and heâs so relieved. poor baby, heâs all shaky, itâs almost like heâs the girl.
gojoâs sputtering out incoherent, âthankyouthankyou,â âs into your neck repeatedly, taking a moment to swallow before heâs shooting inside your clenching hole, his entire body locks and tenses.
his jaw mimicked the same and his orgasm was soooo loud.
âf-fuck, take it all for me. been savin' it for so longâŠâ
itâs sticky and slimy â gojoâs cum spills out, and he pouts once he pauses, watching it pour out only to stuff his dick back in, plugging it in so it never leaves.
he swipes his thumb against his own created mess and moans. âphew shit... âm gonna have dreams about this, âbout your nasty pussy soakin' up my c-cum.â
it continues for hours and hours . . . actually, let's not exaggerate â half an hour.
a good half an hour of you being stuffed, fucked stupid with your pretty doe eyes staring into space, jaw dead open and legs feeling virtually nonexistent. they made you cum, creamâŠabout at least a dozen times.
you were so conflicted, getoâs praising you, showering you with compliments in that sweet low voice meanwhile â gojoâs degrading you now after getting over his impactful orgasm, heâs so mean.
he grows a liking to spanking your pussy, telling you no, those single two-letter words that never fail to make you pout and whine.
âthis is so much better than culinary.â geto sighs, and heâs got you currently pressed up against his chest â full nelson, an arm swiftly and safely locked around your neck and your legs were all spread. you looked so stupid, eyes protruding at the position, your legs being just barely over your legs.
âsheâs a good cook but an even better squirter,â gojo stares at you, taking full view of your cunt. itâs just spitting out gibberish, squelchesâŠ
getoâs got your body swinging and swaying against his own â youâre being stretched out in more ways than one, you didnât know you were this flexible. âone more, babe. show us your cute little velocity.â
âdonât be shy, youâve made such a mess for us already,â geto eggs on, peppering your neck with kisses, your headâs spinning, and everything feels so good. you can hear your heart pounding and thrashing out of your ears. ârelax for me. yeah, like that. itâs okayâŠitâs okay gorgeous.â
getoâs words made you throb â his cock pulsed inside of you, so deep it makes you suck and kiss your teeth in envy. the curve of his dick hits and raptures against you, dragging out a sweet moan from your spit-glossed lips. âlet me make you cream again. easy, girl..â
so much pressure rises and builds up, your head just smacks against geto. eyes subtlety rolling back to where youâre seeing straight black. âf-fuckkk. s-sugu.â
âgive it to us, c'mon.â gojo whispers, he starts to maneuver circles against your clit, and since the position you were in didnât allow you to close your legs, you just jolted, panting and huffing out irregular breaths. âso sensitive, good girl. âs okay. be messy. iâll clean ya up.â
once you squirt â it shoots out with such force, gojoâs in awe, a stupid grin plasters on his face before he slides a thumb inside your pussy thatâs already being stuffed by getoâs lengthy dick. âooooh.â
getoâs different when it came to his loads. it shot out hefty splotches - painting your insides white to where youâre chewing on invisible words, invisible moans.
he makes the both of you grow quiet so you can hear, himself shooting a filthy sticky load inside, heâs panting himself, and sweat raced down the side of his head as heâs catching his breath. the way he used two fingers to pry your pussy open, showing gojo his cum pour out of you â itâs racing down your folds as if it was in a contest.
âgoodâŠgirl. f-fuck.â he says, his tone a bit drowsy.
âsomeoneâs tired,â gojo teases, pulling you into a kiss. you moaned, kissing back. on getoâs lap, heâs still got your legs spread open for him, but he takes you out of the headlock from full nelson, allowing your legs to breathe.
gojoâs tongue drags everywhere on your mouth, he was a sloppy kisser and wasnât ashamed. he was obsessed with your saliva - moaning as you ran a finger down his toned biceps flexing underneath his tank.
you pull away after a whine, gasping for air only to fall back on getoâs chest, never in a million years thinking youâd screw your two culinary peers.
âweâŠwe should do this again,â gojo sighs, swiping his hand across his sweaty forehead.
geto narrows his brows, still fucked out himself. âyou werenât even invited.â
ây-yeah? well, i still made her cream more than you. letâs be honest, suguru. i won, heh.â
âyou moan like a woman, just stop talking.â
ââŠ.â
then you remembered why, the constant bickering amongst the two of them â so damn annoying. but sexy, fighting over you and everything. gojo leans down, softly nibbling on your thighs. geto smiles, moving close to licking a stripe up your tummy as if your body was coated in nothing but sweets.
âf-fuck.â youâd pant, gojoâs tongue sliding between the crevices of your thighs now, running a finger down your sloppy pussy.
âwe arenât done with you, girl,â geto mutters, his hair strands tickling against your skin before he sits up â tapping a thumb against your cheek before smiling, poking his dick in hand against your lips, smearing it with your spit. âopen that mouth. wanna give you a treat. âs got so much vanilla waitin' just for you to swallow.â
Synopsis. âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â
Couldnât be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.8k
A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote thisâŠ
Art by @_3aem on X.
Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru werenât around.
Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.
Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house.Â
You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost.Â
An excited exclamation of âThereâs our all-new sweetheart!â. And the world tilts.
Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne.Â
âCareful, there, Satoru. Wouldnât wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.âÂ
A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. âHavinâ a lotta fun without us, huh?â
Oh, youâd recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. âSweetheart? Me?â
To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. âAbsolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.âÂ
Satoruâs eager voice chimes in, âAs presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.â
âMmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?â face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two.Â
Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â
Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, âHmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?â
---
The consequences arenât half as fun as the chaos.
Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.
Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.
Satoru.
Slight panic setting in, and Satoruâs room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..
â---blast at the party------â
â------frat---sweetheart.â
Head snapping up in a daze, the word âsweetheartâ echoes in your ears.Â
Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together.Â
Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight
âWell, well, look whoâs finally awake - our dear sweetheart.â Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.
Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesnât exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker.Â
You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.
Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. âHowâs our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, yâknow. Was almost worried youâd miss the initiation~â
âWhat the fuck did I agree to?â you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, âJust a little test of courage, darling. But donât you worry; weâll take very good care of you.â
Satoru nods, his gaze intense. âItâs all in good fun, princess. Youâll see.â His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. âNow, you wouldnât go back on your word, would you?â
Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.
Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldnât deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.
A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?
The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away.Â
One. Two
Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod.Â
Darkened blue eyes meet Suguruâs half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.
Oh.Â
Oh, shit. You were in for it.
Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost donât register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.
Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. âShhh, relax, darling. Weâll take care of everything.â
Maybe it was the way Suguruâs words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.
Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasnât the alcohol.Â
âT-Toru- Sugu-â a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.
A hand hot on your thigh - Suguruâs or Satoruâs? You donât have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening.Â
Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoruâs carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.
âShit. Suguru, look at this.â Satoruâs groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..
âOh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lilâ slut.â Suguruâs smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.
You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. âPlease, Sugu.â
âNow now. Behave, darling. Wouldnât want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.â Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoruâs iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.
And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy.Â
âIâll be taking this as payment, princess.â he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguruâs hands. As if a prize to be won.
Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.
You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadnât even taken off their goddamn shirts yet.Â
Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-
Bang!
Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoruâs sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-
âAww, already started without me?â a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. âShit, these two brats werenât kiddinâ, youâre such a doll, arenât you?âÂ
Satoruâs smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door.Â
Toji Fushiguro.
Someone youâd heard of more than youâd seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.
The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Tojiâs trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.
Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half.Â
Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks.Â
âOh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.â Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.
âYo, old man. Catch.â Satoruâs voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is. âMâgonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.â
âDonât count us out now, Toji. Iâll be making sure sheâs absolutely ruined.â Suguruâs slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.
Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesnât speak.
Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.
âHah- Oh! Toru!â you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoruâs lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue.Â
He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-
âHope you didnât forget us, darling. Iâd be heartbroken.â Suguruâs mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoruâs dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core.Â
âDonât move, doll.âÂ
And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.
All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguruâs cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.
Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought heâd be the nice one?
Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, âOpen your mouth.â
As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldnât be doing.
Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. âNow, show me what those pretty lips can do.â Toji grits out.Â
Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face.Â
Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.
Nervous eyes flitting between Tojiâs bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguruâs wrist, and Satoruâs hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - youâre sure of one thing - youâd be damn lucky to make it out alive.
Tojiâs throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.
âCâmon now. If youâre actinâ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.â Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe youâll become his favorite fucktoy.
Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Tojiâs heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. âMmm fuck yeah.â he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat.Â
Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-
âLook sâpretty gagging on his cock, darling.â Suguruâs voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.
âF-fucking freak.â Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. âOh? You like that, doll? Little slut, arenât ya?â
A dangerous chuckle, and heâs thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Tojiâs hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.
Shit, he was going to break you.
Suguruâs clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldnât with your clit. Over and over-
âSuguru, gimme the bra.â you whine, hips bucking as Satoruâs muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.
In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoruâs tongue.
Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoruâs throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.
Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Tojiâs heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat.Â
He didnât care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.
The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful.Â
So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.
You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse.Â
Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru.Â
Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoruâs still merciless tongue, and Suguruâs index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard.Â
Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think youâre in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.
âYou alright, darling? Canât have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.â Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.
âMmm- sâfucked out. Ah-â Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off?Â
Satoru isnât too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.
You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.
Suguruâs hand stroking your face, Satoruâs on your hips.
âAfter all that princess, you deserve a little treat.â Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands.Â
âT-treat? Wha-âÂ
Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself.Â
Fingers intertwining with your tongue, youâre delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection.Â
Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?
âFuck, darling. Really shouldâve done this sooner.â he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. âMhm. You donât know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you canât speak, princess~â a whisper from behind you - Satoru.
Before you know it, Satoruâs lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldnât get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will.Â
Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass.Â
Every twirl of Suguruâs finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoruâs tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act.Â
Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy.Â
Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.
âFucking freaks.â Toji spits out, eyeing Satoruâs fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.
Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him.Â
In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they wonât stop until theyâve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation.Â
Maybe you really were a little slut.Â
Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied.Â
Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you.Â
Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Tojiâs fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs.Â
âSuguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Donât think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.â
You werenât going to make it out alive. Maybe you didnât want to.
He doesnât wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguruâs fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. âFuck sâtight. So tight, princess.â
Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?
Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru.Â
Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. âNow, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Donât be greedy.â And at that last word, Suguruâs leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends.Â
âJust getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. Sheâs begging for it.â you moan at Tojiâs impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. Youâre fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks.Â
Satoruâs hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you.Â
Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.
âSâalright hah- Fuck!â Suguru can barely get the words out, youâve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.
You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake.Â
âOh- oh fuck. Canât- Too much. Hngh-â Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friendsâ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts.Â
You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.
Filthy. Fucking filthy.Â
And the only place you wanted to be right now.
Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you donât even know if what youâre feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-
âAwww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore canât even speak.â
Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Tojiâs twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. âJusâ like that, doll. Yeah-âÂ
You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Tojiâs squelching have your head spinning.
A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.
âOh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.â
âNasty girl. You love this, donât you?â Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.
âY-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-âÂ
With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.
More. More. More more more more-
This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoruâs strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.
âF-fuck, darling. Gonna-â
All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.Â
âHngh- Mâcumming. Oh, god mâcumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.â
Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like youâll explode.
Cock-drunk, youâre dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.
Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven.Â
âSwitch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.âÂ
You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.
Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need.Â
âYeah, thatâs right. Take it.â Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.
Slowing to a stop, âNow, what do you say?â
âTh-thank you, daddy.âÂ
Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. Itâs all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and youâre thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguruâs hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.
He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. âDonât think the initiationâs done yet, darling.â
Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoruâs hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. âOh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.â
âDonât cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think weâre about to have another initiation coordinator.â
What?
Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation.Â
Closer. And closer.
The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway.Â
Nanami Kento.
The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up oneâs ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right.Â
His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like heâs ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption.Â
âWhat are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.â
In the twinge of disappointment, you canât help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And wonât stop till youâre not. Â
âIf youâre going to initiate her then show no mercy.â
The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoruâs burning whisper in your ear.
âWelcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.â
A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??
12 am. it wasn't only your birthday but also your anniversary, and what better way to spend it than with satoru inside of you? it's been three years since the both of you have been together, and every year you "accidentally" spent it with your friends, then came back blacked out drunk.
not this time. he was going to make sure you stayed put in the house with him and no one else; the thought alone made his dick hard, and he loved it.
"happy birthday and happy anniversary, my baby."
sliding himself in between your legs before taking his dick out and putting it inside, a low groan escaping his lips once he felt how wet you were, taking a deep breath to control himself.
isn't he so romantic? only thinking about you and making you feel good on your special day, that's what you thought the initial time until the rounds got sloppier and longer.
it was two pm, and he was still inside of you, whispering in your ear how good it felt to be with you and inside you.
"let's just stay like this, yeah? just us." whimpering out those words as he finished inside of you for the twelfth time, satoru wasn't even sure if he was going to be able to keep this up; it felt like he was on his last breath.
you liked getting stuffed raw and deep by satoru like anyone else, but this was a little too much, especially with the clock ticking and your phone ringing.
"we can finish this when i get back. okay?" a smile on your face as you pushed satoru's chest that was flushed a deep red like the rest of his body, but he wasn't budging; instead, a pout rested on his lips, pushing himself deeper inside of you.
"shouldn't you be spending the day and night with your boyfriend? hm? giving him attention."
jealously was laced all over his tongue and tone, his pace getting faster while his eyes were stuck on yours, whimpering as he kept going.
he knew you could barely talk when you were in such intense pleasure like this, but he couldn't either. wrapping your legs around his waist as you kept eye contact with him, drool dropping from his mouth onto your chest like he was a rabid dog.
"please," trying his hardest to say something else, but his orgasm wouldn't let him; all he could do was put his face in the crook of your neck and keep moving his hips in desperation.
the sounds of his whimpers, your moans, and both his cum and your wetness mixing together to make lewd sounds that turned him on more than he could admit.
this is all he wanted; he wanted you there with him, whether that be taking his cum or him lying on your chest sleeping. once he was done recollecting himself, he made that known.
FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 â for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3
Men In Uniform Do It Best!
Dirty Lil' Secrets
A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)
I'm Addicted, I Admit It!
Give Me Tough Love
Never Ever Seen This Before!
We Don't Have No Babies!
Like A Fever
Bad Things (To You)
Prettier When Messy!
Care For You!
Green-eyed Monster
So Lonely In My Mansion!
Kiss Me More!
Girl, I Do This Often
Cause, I Love Freaks!
Sl*t Me Out!
Match My Freak!
WAP!
R U Mine?
Hot To Go!
Girl, You Earned It!
I'm A BIG Stepper!
BODY-ODY!
SOOO ANXIOUS
Long Overdue!
THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!
The Family Matter?!
I-T G-I-R-L!
I Lasted Ten Rounds!
BRAT!
She's My Vitals!
Three's a Crowd (But Four...) â âSo, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?â âWhy? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?â
In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.
Dream A Little Dream â For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.Â
Initiation! â âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â
Couldnât be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
One More? Please? â A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something moreâŠwell, itâs only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... â You donât know whatâs faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast youâre on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
Hope They Catch Us â When youâre on-screen, itâs always a rivalry to see whoâs best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Unmistakably Yours â In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatឣ, to do what heâs always wanted to do - you.
Madam Gojo â Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) â In which intentionally making your frĂend-with-benefĂts jealous ends up with more benefits than youâd think.
The Heir â No, your clan leader husband wonât stop until he gives you an heir. No, you donât think youâll make it out alive.
The Call â After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but itâs so hard when he kisses you like that.
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy â He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Olâ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] â You wouldnât fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paidâŠis what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.
Unhoneymooners!? â The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cĂłck. You just didnât know what would come first.
AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! â When your sugar daddy just isnât paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fĂșcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Bad Boys Bring Roses â Youâve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
The Way You Kiss Me â The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friendâs pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesnât.
Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) â Oh no! Why do your pantĂes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answerâŠ
Haunting You â A bIoody trail of vampire attĂĄcks, a political marriage, and four suitors youâre forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
You'll Taste Me Too! â How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You donât - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.
Something Stupid â Five times the strongest would rather dĂe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.
Initiation! â âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â
Couldnât be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Like An Animal â Of course Toji doesnât want any more kids. Of course heâs lying as he stuffs your pretty cĂșnt full of his cĂșm for the third time tonight.
Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You â When your date stands you up, youâre lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!Â
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... â You donât know whatâs faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast youâre on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
F*ck You! (Literally) â Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.
Government Hooker â With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didnât think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.
Madam Zenin â Thereâs nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take whatâs most important to him. You.
Brooklyn Baby â Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesnât want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldnât give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Initiation! â âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â
Couldnât be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Golden Boy â Falling right back in love with the cult leader youâre supposed to kĂll? Happens more often than youâd think.
Welcome To The Itadori's! â Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.Â
FIVE! â Five hours - itâs all it takes for Chosoâs baby fever to take over. After all, youâd look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.
Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) â When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind:
1. How come your parents didnât trust you in charge?
2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Freak On The Cam! â Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lilâ camgĂrl - from behind the screen. Who knew heâd love being on-screen with you even more?
Initiation! â âJust a small initiation, nothing too serious.â Couldnât be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
A Million Dollar Baby! â Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) â In which intentionally making your frĂend-with-benefĂts jealous ends up with more benefits than youâd think.