You had just finished your finals and Satoru went to your apartment to celebrate.
You crack opened a champagne and called it a day. The long hours of tutoring paid off after spending almost half of it staring at his face and dozing off instead of actually listening to what he's talking about.
Finally, after months of suffering, you are finally free from calculus.
The two of you are leaning against the balcony ledge. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it's peaceful and the city lights in the horizon made the evening even better.
If Satoru learns how to shut up sometimes and not be a tease, you'd have a good life.
You turned around to look at him, he still looks so effortlessly good. He's one of those people who gets finer as they age.
“Do you want to kiss?” you have no idea why you said it out loud. Maybe it's the champagne kicking in. You do dream of kissing him though, or maybe doing more.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
You walked up closer to him and looked up at him with your eyes glimmering in the night. You lifted your toes and wrapped your arms on his neck, “Kiss?”
He just stares at you for a moment, processing the sudden change of atmosphere. He nods and that's all it took for you to kiss him.
It felt better than what you'd imagined. The moonlight shines above, giving a soft glow to the two of you.
He kisses you back while his right hand cups your cheek while his left finds its way to your waist. You could feel his tongue slip into you and you let out a soft whimper.
“Couch, now.” he said in between kisses. The two of you didn't break the kiss and continued on until your weight fell on the couch.
You were the first to break the kiss. Satoru’s glasses are now foggy from the kissing and heavy breathing. He almost looks disappointed because of it.
“Do you want to…do more?” you felt shy all of the sudden. You, asking Satoru to sleep with you.
“Hm?” a smirk crept through his stupid face. You could feel the blush on your ears. “Could you please elaborate that?” he uses your real name this time, which makes slit even wetter.
“Oh, c'mon, you know exactly what I mean.” you throw your hands up in the air in frustration. He pinches your cheeks and chuckles.
“There's nothing wrong with saying it out loud, hm? Now, don't be shy with me.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath before saying it. You opened your mouth, but you couldn't make the words out. You clenched your fists. “...fuck me…?” your question trailed off into a whisper, eyes looking at your fingernails.
“Yeah, fuck you.”
You slap his arm and he makes an ‘ow’ sound.
“OH MY—” you never felt so embarrassed before. “YOU—”
“What's wrong with saying the word sex?”
“Uh, nothing?”
“Then say it.”
You stared at him.
“Repeat after me, “Please have sex—”
“Please have sex with me, Satoru and also, fuck you.”
“Atta girl, there we go.” his hands find your chin and turn it to face him. Your face heats up more.
“Are you sure you want to do this, hm?”
You nod. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
He pulls you closer to him as he kisses your forehead first, then lifts up your chin to make eye contact with you and kisses you again on your lips. His hand makes its way to your waist as he closes the gap between the two of you.
It's slow, passionate even. His kiss slowly trails down to your neck and he starts kissing it. You let out a shaky breath.
That ugly smirk, you could feel it again but you chose to ignore it. Your hands play with his soft ivory hair.
You tugged the hem of his shirt, wanting him to take it off.
“That eager to see me naked already?”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles. “If you say so.” Satoru sing-songs, poking the middle of your nose. “Such a naughty girl.”
You raised your arms as he lifted your shirt up and tossed it somewhere in the living room. You did the same for him. His hands reach for the waistband of your shorts and tug it down. You're left in your undergarments and feel stupidly like a mess.
He placed a soft peck on your nose before scooping you up and headed to your bedroom.
You're now laying in your bed with your undergarments still on.
“Touch yourself.” your heartbeat rises. He's standing in front of you with his erection fully visible with the sweats he's wearing. You're not going to lie, that did catch you off guard.
You follow his order and spread your legs while maintaining eye contact with Satoru. You could definitely feel the wetness drenched in your underwear.
It's embarrassing, really really embarrassing. You started to rub your clit in circles, but it's not helping. You wanted him to help you.
“Quit staring and come help me.” you scolded him.
“Aw, but where's the fun in that.” he gives you a pout. He walks near you and plays with the clip of your bra. “You really want this, huh.”
“Do you even know how to unclasp a bra?”
He unclasps it effortlessly. Satoru then tugs down your underwear.
Now, you're fully naked as he tossed the last piece of clothing somewhere in your apartment. The cold air suddenly hits your skin and you shiver a bit.
This might be something you'll regret, but now, you just want more of this. You started to feel a bit shy, like you wanted to cover yourself.
He removes his pants and boxers at the same time. His cock sprung out immediately, and it's way bigger than what you've expected.
“That's so…” you trail off. “Thick and long.”
He climbs on top of you and kisses your neck. “Long enough for you to beg for more.” You wrap your arms around him, trying your best not to be loud. After another suck at your neck, you let out another shaky breath.
Satoru stops and looks at you, not at your naked body, no. He looks at you. Your eyes found him, and he kissed you again, on the forehead. “You're beautiful.”
The way he says your name makes your heart flutter. You just…stared at him, not knowing what to say back. You want him. You need him. He kisses you, and your heart starts to beat faster than usual. His kiss slowly trails down to your jaw, then your collarbones. Satoru gives your nipple a soft suck, then bites on it, but not too hard to make it feel pleasurable for you. He pinches the other nipple while doing so.
“Ah!” you covered your mouth to stop the embarrassing sound you just made. The sudden wave of pleasure makes your legs hug him. You could feel a smirk crept through his mouth.
“We're just getting started, love.” he kisses all the way down to your stomach, which turned out to be ticklish. “Don't hide those pretty whines from me, alright?” You let out a laugh.
“Satoru, it tickles!”
He lifts one of his eyebrows. “Oh?” he then pointed his index finger to your hip which made your body jolt. “Hmm…you're ticklish here, huh.”
“Satoru!” you whined. “Enough with the teasing.”
He chuckles. “Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing. You just look so cute when you're squirming under me.” he gives you a peck on your nose.
His kisses your stomach, kisses all the way until he's down to your—
He looks at you, waiting for permission for him to continue. Those cerulean blue eyes met yours and you nodded.
You held your breath as you clenched the bedsheets. He spreads your legs wider effortlessly with his two hands. You're soaked, you know this. You could feel the wetness dripping down. When you feel something warm on your slit, you feel his tongue slowly find its way to your clitoris, licking it in a slow pattern teasing you, making you shiver. Each second makes you hold your breath.
You're squirming now.
He lifted up his face to see you squirming, you could barely keep your legs open now, but he still holds them open, not letting you close it—and when you saw his face, his stupid face so stupidly beautiful—
He gave your clit a suck. The noise you let out was sinful. He smirked at you when he saw how you reacted to that. That sudden feeling made you arched your back, not meaning to push your hips to his face, but you did it anyway. And he seems to like it.
“You like that, hm?” he coos. Satoru cocks his head and smirks at you. You nodded.
“Ye—ah!” he sucks at it again, this time, he pinches your nipples while doing so, stimulating the nerves in your erogenous zone. “Satoru, more, just like that.”
He sucks it, licks it, whatever magic he can do with his tongue on your clit. He's devouring you. And each time he does that, your moans get louder and louder until you're a moaning mess.
“I'm—” you panted your chest. The pleasure is starting to get overwhelming now. Your legs start to shake and you could feel your clit pulsing, but Satoru forces them to stay open. “Satoru!” you called out. Throwing your head back, your right hand grabbing the headboard of his bed. “T-too much—”
“We haven't even got to the fun part yet, princess.” he pushes a finger inside you and you swore it just keeps getting better. He's eating you out like you're his last meal—hungry, eager, desperate while he fingers you out.
You shut your eyes close, feeling your climax nearing. When Satoru sees this, he grabs you by the jaw. “Look at me, love.”
Your eyes lock into his as you let out one last sharp moan while you let out your climax, legs shaking irresistibly.
He quickly stood up and shuffled out his wallet from the pocket of his pants thrown on the floor, grabbing out an XL condom—the one you saw him buying one time in the convenience store.
This is actually happening.
You hold your breath as you watch him make his way to you, climbing on top of you again. He rips off the condom and slides it up to his hard cock.
“Wait here, princess.”
“Huh?"
Oh?
Oh.
Oh!
He grabs your vibrator and your eyes widen. “Want to spice things up, hm?” he turns on the vibrator and the vibration sounds send shivers down your spine.
He just sucked the life out of your clit. You're not sure if you can survive another one.
“Sure. I mean, it's worth the try.”
He hands you the vibrator at the lowest speed. “Let's use that while I fuck this pretty pussy of yours, yeah?”
He lifted one of your legs and placed it above his shoulder. “Tell me to stop if you can't handle it anymore, ‘kay? Tap me on the shoulder twice.” Satoru flashes you a grin and a thumbs up.
“Oh, trust me, I definitely can handle you.”
“Hm, you're cute. We'll see about that.” he placed a kiss on your forehead. You grabbed his erect cock and guided him into your hole before placing the vibrator on your overstimulated clit.
The two of you let out a moan when the thrust inside you, but not fully. He's barely in you and your free hand clings to Satoru’s shoulder, leaving clawmarks on it. The intense pleasure rushes over your body. With his hard cock in you and the vibrator on the lowest speed—you started to lose it.
You didn't care how loud you got, good thing he's your only neighbor. You just hope the tenants below won't hear the bed creaking and the loud pounding sounds of sex.
“Fuck—” his breath hitches. You feel him sinking inside you. His cock twitches a bit while he's trying to get his dick fully in you. “You're squeezing me in, babe.”
“‘toru—” you shut your eyes and throw your head back against your bed. “Fuck.”
His hand found its way to your face, grabs it, and kisses you eagerly.
“Eyes on me now, princess.” he waits until you are fully adjusted and comfortable before he starts thrusting. He thrusts in a slow pattern, maintaining eye contact. His finger rubs your nipple in a slow pattern, then pinches it. You arch your back at the sudden pleasure flushed on you.
“Like that, sugar?”
This—
Feels good. Too good.
“Mhhngh—” you could barely make out your words. “Haaaah!” The stimulation from the vibrator and how he pinches your nipples and thrusts into you is sending you into a spiral.
“You're sensitive, I like that.” he sucks and pinches your nipple while doing some slow thrusts.
He adjusted the vibration, turning it a speed higher.
The rooms filled with clapping sounds from the way he's pounding you, each minute getting faster and faster. He's not holding back now. And you were a moaning mess under him.
The vibrator you were holding was long thrown away somewhere on the floor still buzzing. This pleasure is too much—too much, but oh, it feels so good when it's Satoru who's doing the work.
“Ngh! Satoru.” you cried out loud, curling your toes. “Harder! Hmp, ah—!”
“Hm…enjoying your view, sugar? And yet I thought you said you'll never say those words out loud. Guess I'm the winner now.” he continues to fuck the brains out of you.
“What—”
He gives you a hard thrust, picking up his pace, hitting every sweet spot possible.
Your tits are bouncing non-stop and the bed might actually break from the way its creaking sounds get louder.
“Nghmn. I'm close, ‘toru!”
“Hang on there, pretty.” he leans down to give you a kiss between those cute sinful moans of yours.
His hand reached for the vibrator you threw away and places it on your clit and—
“Fuuuuck! Sa-ah! ‘toru. Mhgmm—” you cried out loud, not even ashamed anymore. Your hands hugged his back, nails digging deep into his skin. The sudden surprise made you jolt your body and his dick hit another sweet spot of yours which made you cry out loud.
This might be the best sex you have ever had.
“I'm…” you tried to make out your words. “Coming.” you let out one last loud cry before finishing. Satoru didn't stop though, he still bangs on you like there's no tomorrow. After a few seconds, his weight crashes into yours and he pulls out before he finishes.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, soft moans here and there. You were panting and out of breath. Satoru looks up at you and kisses your forehead again.
You were about to hug him when he stood up and closed the AC.
You're confused. “Why did you turn off the AC?”
“Honey, you're sweating, don't wanna get sick now, do you?” he removed the condom filled with his fluids, tied it into a knot and threw it to the side.
“Wait, just stay there.” he went to your washroom and grabbed a clean cloth to clean you up. You spread your legs shyly as he wiped every bit off, cleaning you up. You shiver a bit when the cloth accidentally brushes your clit, and he felt bad he went too hard on you.
“Sorry for that.”
You kissed him lazily. “Nah, don't be. I loved it.”
After that, the two of you stayed in bed for a while in each other's embrace.
“Can you walk?” Satoru asks. “Or like, where does it hurt?”
“Dunno, I feel sore.” you tried to stand up from your bed but felt a sharp pain and started limping.
“Oops, my bad.” he brushes his hair nervously. “I'll go easier on you next time.” he placed a soft peck on your forehead.
Satoru helped you put your clothes back on before heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for you.
“Drink up, gotta hydrate yourself again after…you know.” you let out a soft smile. You gulp down the water immediately, leaving none for him. The aftermath of having sex really does drain you out.
“Do you want to eat something, hm?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
He stood there, contemplating something.
“Do I say it?” he questions you, unsure if he should really say whatever's in his mind.
“Hm?”
“Look, I know we just, you know, fucked, and yeah, it felt good, really good. I mean, it's you that made it a whole lot better. And I don't want you to feel like I'm using you, or want to make you feel like you're one of my casual fucks from before, because you're far from it. You're far from casual, and I just don't want you to think that. Because you're different, you're just well, you. And, I—”
“Satoru,” you interrupted him. “Just say it. I'm not mad or disgusted. I know you’re quite into me in a serious way which is why I, well, asked for it.”
“Okay.” he takes a deep breath. He speaks your name, “May I be your boyfriend…perchance? Like, boyfriend-girfriend type of relationship.”
You gaped at him.
“Look, I know this sounds stupid and I wanted to make it more special, you know, with balloons and flowers and candles, in a more romantic setting.”
“Satoru, shut up, of course I'll be your girlfriend.” you kissed him. “You don't have to feel bad about it.” you pinch his cheeks.
a/n: i wrote this a few months ago and it's been sitting on my docs so i figure why not post this lololol hope y'all like this
summary: your parents finally agreed to let you dorm near the campus in your junior year but in one condition, you have to live with the so-called golden child 'sukuna ryomen' who's secretly a frat boy
tags: mdni!. ROOMMATES, angst, insane parents, reader has mommy issues, bar and clubs, mentions of strict parents, inaccurate frats and sororities, a bit of reader x fratjo, slow burn, eventual smut, reader is a virgin, idk what else to put
inspired by the lyric: "I just wanna give you the lovin' that you're missing." from treat you better by shawn mendes
chapter index:
roommates
???
???
???
???
comment if u wanna get tagged on the updates of this series <33
summary: your parents finally agreed to let you dorm near the campus in your junior year but in one condition, you have to live with the so-called golden child 'sukuna ryomen' who's secretly a frat boy
tags: mdni!. ROOMMATES, angst, insane parents, reader has mommy issues, bar and clubs, mentions of strict parents, inaccurate frats and sororities, a bit of reader x fratjo, slow burn, eventual smut, reader is a virgin, idk what else to put
inspired by the lyric: "I just wanna give you the lovin' that you're missing." from treat you better by shawn mendes
chapter index:
roommates
???
???
???
???
comment if u wanna get tagged on the updates of this series <33
summary: your parents finally agreed to let you dorm near the campus in your junior year but in one condition, you have to live with the so-called golden child 'sukuna ryomen' who's secretly a frat boy
tags: mdni!. ROOMMATES, slight angst, insane parents, reader has mommy issues, bar and clubs, mentions of strict parents, inaccurate frats and sororities, fratjo, slow burn, idk what else to put
divider cr @tsumiinum art cr @/winterrbluesss on x
frat!kuna x f!reader
chapter 1: roomates | wc: 1.9k
Sukuna has been your roommate for six long months and you don't know what to say about it.
There are two rules the both of you agreed to in the very beginning of this set-up. One, do your chores and two, don't bring people over without giving the other a heads up first.
As simple as that.
His presence around the apartment is intimidating as always. Any person who walks past him knows not to mess with him. After all, he's Sukuna Ryomen. The guy with a fearsome reputation. Look at him in the wrong way and he might just beat the shit out of you.
But that's just how Sukuna is. He’s not the type of person to open up or have deep conversations with anyone. Rather, he's more of a casual no-strings-attached type of guy.
If he's not in the frat house, he is most probably hiding inside his room eating some hangover ramen while playing some random games with his frat boys.
The two of you barely talk or interact with one another despite being roommates. If you ever did, it's just some casual polite questions about university and that's all.
Half a year in and you barely know the guy except he spends most of his nights in the frat house and not getting home until it's around two or three in the morning. If you had to be honest, it's slowly getting on your nerves.
How on earth do your parents adore this man?
You could hear the keys clacking as he tried his best to open the door as quietly as possible or how he decided to watch TV in the middle of the night while you're asleep.
But who are you to complain?
He does his own dishes, he minds his own business, he does grocery shopping, he cooks for the two of you, he doesn't bring his sorority girls to the apartment which you're grateful for and most importantly, he doesn't snitch on you when you went out to party after a draining semester.
Basically he has the decent roommate trait for a frat boy like him.
It's actually quite surprising for you since you expect the complete opposite from him.
People will definitely question why on earth you decided to settle with a roommate like Sukuna. He's the type of person parents warn their kids about. If some random conservative parent passes by him, they'd definitely describe him with the word delinquent.
Unfortunately for you, your parents are friends with his parents, so you can see why you're stuck in an apartment with him instead of having your own one.
Because they trust him.
Apparently they trust a frat boy who spends his time partying and sleeping around more than their own goody two shoes daughter who's scared at every white car she sees outside fearing that it might be her dad's.
So you're stuck with him as a roommate for the meantime for him to ‘keep watch’ of you while you're away from home.
You didn't complain much about it. If you were to choose between staying here with Sukuna or going back home, you'd choose to stay.
You are a junior in university. A junior. You are in your twenties and you don't want to be caged like a long lost princess in the dungeon of your parents house.
After a long deliberation with your parents, they'd finally agree to let you have your own place but only when you share it with some frat boy they glaze over.
Sukuna wasn't that strict compared to your parents. He just doesn't care, which again, you are not complaining about it.
The two of you maintain a friendly distance for the months you've been living with him. Barely strike a conversation with him. You spend most days locked inside your room, only leaving when it's time for you to cook or eat and that's about it.
You did go out with your friends to go clubbing occasionally, but deep inside your heart, you still feel guilty when you're not home. There's a sense of paranoia clinging to you like you'll get caught by your parents and dragged back to your old house, living with them.
It felt wrong, so wrong for you to be out that late.
There are a ton of other shitloads of bullshit your parents obsessed over you but you tried not to let it get to you. ‘Cause if you did, you'd lose it.
Tonight, you saw Gojo Satoru at a club your friend dragged you to. You used to like him a lot back when you were a freshman, but now seeing him again in person? Those feelings came crawling back.
You wonder what he's doing here all by himself. He's supposed to be at the frat house but who knows what he's up to.
Everyone on your campus knows him. He's well-off, good looking, knows how to charm girls, sweet, all the girls go crazy whenever he appears on campus.
He can have any girl he wants without trying. A trail of girls would follow him like a lapdog on campus and he can order them to do the most stupid shit and they'd cooperate immediately.
It was a Friday night and the club had hit its peak hour with more and more students passing out drunk on their tables.
So to your surprise, you were not expecting him out of everyone on campus to approach you. And you almost know where exactly this is going.
“Can I buy you a drink?” the guy with ivory hair sat next to your seat. He flashes you a grin and you smile back, not knowing what to do exactly. Your eyes constantly flick to the old clock hanging on the ceiling of the dim lit bar.
There's still a deep fear inside you that your parents might storm into your apartment randomly to find you missing instead of studying your ass off like they expected you to do.
You're not a drinker, not really. You never enjoyed the bitter taste of alcohol and how it burns your throat.
“No—”
“Yes! Yes, of course you can.” your friend stops you before you can blab out some nonsense. Gojo walked his way to the bartender and ordered some drinks for y'all.
“Babe. When a guy asks if he can buy you drinks in a bar, you say yes. Especially if it's Gojo, the guy you've been losing your mind over since freshman year?”
You look at Gojo standing at the opposite end slowly approaching with the drinks in his hands. You do like the guy since freshman year, but you just never really make an effort for him to notice you.
Looks like the universe is finally on your side today ‘cause Gojo just bought you drinks.
“Then what's next?”
“Uh, you hookup with him, duh!”
"Yeah, that's not happening."
Even as a junior in university, you still lack social skills and have no idea what to say at the appropriate time let alone have the experience.
Thanks to your parents for isolating you whenever they can.
“So what brings you here?”
What am I supposed to say?
The hottest guy on campus is trying to strike a conversation with you and you could barely form your words together.
“We just finished midterms for accounting, yeah? Came here to celebrate.” your friend saves you once again.
“My friend over here,” she tapped your shoulder as she took a sip from her drink. “She's the expert here. Ask her anything, she's like a walking search engine.”
“Right, I heard you're one of the best students in accounting.” Gojo gave you a wink and a thumbs up.
“I guess you can say that.” you shrugged. The clock is ticking and you seem to be more paranoid as each second passes by. Even with the loud music, you can mentally still hear the clock ticking.
“Mhm. If you need help you can hit me up, I offer tutoring.” you figure if you want to get closer to Gojo, you could always offer to tutor him.
Gojo’s eyes lit up, like he finally found his guardian angel that's gonna save him from his accounting horror stories.
Your friend then proceeds to ditch you once she figured out you're comfortable enough now on your own with Gojo.
“No way! Say, can you help me with some accounting stuff? I kinda flunk my midterm, the grades aren't released yet, but I gotta pull my GPA up, so…”
Well, since the semester break is happening next week and you have some time to yourself besides working, you figure why not? After all, it's Gojo Satoru.
Whatever it takes to spend more time with him.
“Yeah, sure. Which topic are you in need of help with?” you agreed.
It seems like your voice was just not loud enough. The party music drowned out your noise. Gojo leans closer to you to hear what you're trying to say.
“Hm?”
“I said sure. Which topic do you need help with?”
“I think,” Gojo held his hand to his chin, recalling what topics he needs help with before responding with, “all of them.”
Oh.
You can't just tell him that's too much information to cover up. Instead, you told him you'll try your best for him to work his way up.
Gojo flashed you the biggest grin he could make and pulled out his cell. You ended your night exchanging numbers and socials with Gojo and you are over the moon.
You've been out later than you should and your phone has long been dead after talking about random things with him. Let it be that accounting professor whose hairline seems to be begging for survival or how he missed half of his lectures ‘cause of his hangovers.
Gojo insisted on giving you a ride back home to which you refused initially, but then you agreed after he asked you for the third time.
Besides, it's safer compared to taking the Uber.
When you finally opened your apartment door, you expected to be greeted with the dark empty living room. Sukuna told you he's going to be at the frat house tonight and won't be home until midnight.
To your surprise, you found Sukuna laying on the couch with his arms thrown on the back cushions when you opened the door.
“Care to explain why you're back this late?"
a/n: here's the fratkuna fic since it wom the poll last time. also thank you for the likes and reblogs oml i appreciate y'all sm!! this is gonna have around 4-5 chapters so stay tuned!
pls, lmk how this first chapter is! mwah ty for reading:> also I'll make a m.list soon hwehwe
summary: your parents finally agreed to let you dorm near the campus in your junior year but in one condition, you have to live with the so-called golden child 'sukuna ryomen' who's secretly a frat boy
tags: mdni!. ROOMMATES, slight angst, insane parents, reader has mommy issues, bar and clubs, mentions of strict parents, inaccurate frats and sororities, fratjo, slow burn, idk what else to put
divider cr @tsumiinum art cr @/winterrbluesss on x
frat!kuna x f!reader
chapter 1: roomates | wc: 1.9k
Sukuna has been your roommate for six long months and you don't know what to say about it.
There are two rules the both of you agreed to in the very beginning of this set-up. One, do your chores and two, don't bring people over without giving the other a heads up first.
As simple as that.
His presence around the apartment is intimidating as always. Any person who walks past him knows not to mess with him. After all, he's Sukuna Ryomen. The guy with a fearsome reputation. Look at him in the wrong way and he might just beat the shit out of you.
But that's just how Sukuna is. He’s not the type of person to open up or have deep conversations with anyone. Rather, he's more of a casual no-strings-attached type of guy.
If he's not in the frat house, he is most probably hiding inside his room eating some hangover ramen while playing some random games with his frat boys.
The two of you barely talk or interact with one another despite being roommates. If you ever did, it's just some casual polite questions about university and that's all.
Half a year in and you barely know the guy except he spends most of his nights in the frat house and not getting home until it's around two or three in the morning. If you had to be honest, it's slowly getting on your nerves.
How on earth do your parents adore this man?
You could hear the keys clacking as he tried his best to open the door as quietly as possible or how he decided to watch TV in the middle of the night while you're asleep.
But who are you to complain?
He does his own dishes, he minds his own business, he does grocery shopping, he cooks for the two of you, he doesn't bring his sorority girls to the apartment which you're grateful for and most importantly, he doesn't snitch on you when you went out to party after a draining semester.
Basically he has the decent roommate trait for a frat boy like him.
It's actually quite surprising for you since you expect the complete opposite from him.
People will definitely question why on earth you decided to settle with a roommate like Sukuna. He's the type of person parents warn their kids about. If some random conservative parent passes by him, they'd definitely describe him with the word delinquent.
Unfortunately for you, your parents are friends with his parents, so you can see why you're stuck in an apartment with him instead of having your own one.
Because they trust him.
Apparently they trust a frat boy who spends his time partying and sleeping around more than their own goody two shoes daughter who's scared at every white car she sees outside fearing that it might be her dad's.
So you're stuck with him as a roommate for the meantime for him to ‘keep watch’ of you while you're away from home.
You didn't complain much about it. If you were to choose between staying here with Sukuna or going back home, you'd choose to stay.
You are a junior in university. A junior. You are in your twenties and you don't want to be caged like a long lost princess in the dungeon of your parents house.
After a long deliberation with your parents, they'd finally agree to let you have your own place but only when you share it with some frat boy they glaze over.
Sukuna wasn't that strict compared to your parents. He just doesn't care, which again, you are not complaining about it.
The two of you maintain a friendly distance for the months you've been living with him. Barely strike a conversation with him. You spend most days locked inside your room, only leaving when it's time for you to cook or eat and that's about it.
You did go out with your friends to go clubbing occasionally, but deep inside your heart, you still feel guilty when you're not home. There's a sense of paranoia clinging to you like you'll get caught by your parents and dragged back to your old house, living with them.
It felt wrong, so wrong for you to be out that late.
There are a ton of other shitloads of bullshit your parents obsessed over you but you tried not to let it get to you. ‘Cause if you did, you'd lose it.
Tonight, you saw Gojo Satoru at a club your friend dragged you to. You used to like him a lot back when you were a freshman, but now seeing him again in person? Those feelings came crawling back.
You wonder what he's doing here all by himself. He's supposed to be at the frat house but who knows what he's up to.
Everyone on your campus knows him. He's well-off, good looking, knows how to charm girls, sweet, all the girls go crazy whenever he appears on campus.
He can have any girl he wants without trying. A trail of girls would follow him like a lapdog on campus and he can order them to do the most stupid shit and they'd cooperate immediately.
It was a Friday night and the club had hit its peak hour with more and more students passing out drunk on their tables.
So to your surprise, you were not expecting him out of everyone on campus to approach you. And you almost know where exactly this is going.
“Can I buy you a drink?” the guy with ivory hair sat next to your seat. He flashes you a grin and you smile back, not knowing what to do exactly. Your eyes constantly flick to the old clock hanging on the ceiling of the dim lit bar.
There's still a deep fear inside you that your parents might storm into your apartment randomly to find you missing instead of studying your ass off like they expected you to do.
You're not a drinker, not really. You never enjoyed the bitter taste of alcohol and how it burns your throat.
“No—”
“Yes! Yes, of course you can.” your friend stops you before you can blab out some nonsense. Gojo walked his way to the bartender and ordered some drinks for y'all.
“Babe. When a guy asks if he can buy you drinks in a bar, you say yes. Especially if it's Gojo, the guy you've been losing your mind over since freshman year?”
You look at Gojo standing at the opposite end slowly approaching with the drinks in his hands. You do like the guy since freshman year, but you just never really make an effort for him to notice you.
Looks like the universe is finally on your side today ‘cause Gojo just bought you drinks.
“Then what's next?”
“Uh, you hookup with him, duh!”
"Yeah, that's not happening."
Even as a junior in university, you still lack social skills and have no idea what to say at the appropriate time let alone have the experience.
Thanks to your parents for isolating you whenever they can.
“So what brings you here?”
What am I supposed to say?
The hottest guy on campus is trying to strike a conversation with you and you could barely form your words together.
“We just finished midterms for accounting, yeah? Came here to celebrate.” your friend saves you once again.
“My friend over here,” she tapped your shoulder as she took a sip from her drink. “She's the expert here. Ask her anything, she's like a walking search engine.”
“Right, I heard you're one of the best students in accounting.” Gojo gave you a wink and a thumbs up.
“I guess you can say that.” you shrugged. The clock is ticking and you seem to be more paranoid as each second passes by. Even with the loud music, you can mentally still hear the clock ticking.
“Mhm. If you need help you can hit me up, I offer tutoring.” you figure if you want to get closer to Gojo, you could always offer to tutor him.
Gojo’s eyes lit up, like he finally found his guardian angel that's gonna save him from his accounting horror stories.
Your friend then proceeds to ditch you once she figured out you're comfortable enough now on your own with Gojo.
“No way! Say, can you help me with some accounting stuff? I kinda flunk my midterm, the grades aren't released yet, but I gotta pull my GPA up, so…”
Well, since the semester break is happening next week and you have some time to yourself besides working, you figure why not? After all, it's Gojo Satoru.
Whatever it takes to spend more time with him.
“Yeah, sure. Which topic are you in need of help with?” you agreed.
It seems like your voice was just not loud enough. The party music drowned out your noise. Gojo leans closer to you to hear what you're trying to say.
“Hm?”
“I said sure. Which topic do you need help with?”
“I think,” Gojo held his hand to his chin, recalling what topics he needs help with before responding with, “all of them.”
Oh.
You can't just tell him that's too much information to cover up. Instead, you told him you'll try your best for him to work his way up.
Gojo flashed you the biggest grin he could make and pulled out his cell. You ended your night exchanging numbers and socials with Gojo and you are over the moon.
You've been out later than you should and your phone has long been dead after talking about random things with him. Let it be that accounting professor whose hairline seems to be begging for survival or how he missed half of his lectures ‘cause of his hangovers.
Gojo insisted on giving you a ride back home to which you refused initially, but then you agreed after he asked you for the third time.
Besides, it's safer compared to taking the Uber.
When you finally opened your apartment door, you expected to be greeted with the dark empty living room. Sukuna told you he's going to be at the frat house tonight and won't be home until midnight.
To your surprise, you found Sukuna laying on the couch with his arms thrown on the back cushions when you opened the door.
“Care to explain why you're back this late?"
a/n: here's the fratkuna fic since it won the poll last time. also thank you for the likes and reblogs oml i appreciate y'all sm!! this is gonna have around 4-5 chapters so stay tuned!
pls, lmk how this first chapter is! mwah ty for reading:> also I'll make a m.list soon hwehwe
tags: boss/assistant, piv, fingering, spanking, office sex, picking up the phone mid-sex, name calling
“Are you a virgin?”
You asked Nanami once when you were two hours past your shift to which he dodged the question.
It's nine in the evening on a Saturday night. You were supposed to be in the club with your girls, but here you are instead. Stuck in the same old boring office waiting for his signal for you to clock out.
Nanami seems to have other plans for you these past few days. You're supposed to leave work after ordering his dinner but lately he's been keeping you longer than your usual work hours and it's been pissing you off.
This happened for about four days now. And you might just know what it means but you don't want to assume too much.
You could see it in the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking. Or how he always offers to give you a ride home so you won't have to take the train.
He seems pretty invested in whatever work he's doing, so you asked random questions to gain his attention and to kill time.
“Where is this coming from?” your name left his lips like some kind of foreign language. He usually kept a stoic face, not showing much emotion. You could never tell what mood he's in.
But this time though, you could see his facial expression shift a little.
A smirk crept up your face.
“So you are a virgin.” you confirm your assumption. Nanami shut his eyes as he placed his fingers on his temple, tired dealing with whatever nonsense you're onto.
The man is in his late twenties and spends most of his days and nights in his crappy big office with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city view.
He probably spends more time with you than anyone else.
Does he even have a life outside this office?
“This is—” Nanami pauses to think of the right words to put out. “quite personal for work hours, yeah?”
“I got off work two hours ago.” you were just waiting for your signal to clock out and you are losing your patience.
He ignores you. But you poke him more.
“So you are a virgin, huh.” you repeated it like it's the prophecy written in the stars for him. You walked up to his desk and placed both hands on the desk. He finally lifted his head from his laptop.
“I had some experiences, yeah?” he gave in. His eyes went back to his laptop. You could feel his breathing shift, like he's more nervous.
He's definitely a virgin.
If you were to describe Nanami with just one word, you couldn't think of any words that fit him.
A workaholic, maybe. You could see his eyebrows furrowed when he's on the phone call with his clients.
He doesn't laugh at anything, takes everything way too seriously, and is way too focused on his company.
At some point in your life as his assistant, you thought that this man was going to die alone and that's a really sad reality for him.
Does he even have a life besides working? Is he even dating? Most guys his age have dated already at least.
He's just straight out boring and takes away the fun in everything. The age difference between the two of you isn't even that big, so you wonder what is considered ‘fun’ to him.
Probably working.
You nodded at his answer and just stared at him, trying to read what's on his mind. You have to admit, he does look hot, especially in his suit. Bet he looks even better without it.
You shake that thought away. Why are you even fantasizing about that? He's your boss.
“Do you have a wife?” you continue to ask away. This time you walked your way to the massive window displaying the glowing city on the horizon.
No answer.
You turned to face Nanami who seemed to be typing something on his laptop.
“A husband?” you tried again.
You could tell it was a rough day for Nanami by just the way he sighs. And you're probably making it even worse by asking him these weird personal questions.
You just want him to call it a night and kick you out.
“What?”
“It's okay, I don't judge you know, there's nothing wrong—”
“No.” he cuts you off.
You just stared at him. There are some white strands of hair visible on parts of his hair. Probably from all the stress he's carrying.
Maybe he could use a little stress reliever.
“Don't look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you made your way next to Nanami and leaned closer to take a peak on what he's working on.
That was it. Something inside Nanami just snapped.
He walked up to you at full speed and pinned you against the window. The kiss that follows was desperate, like he's been waiting for this moment for his whole life.
You kiss him back, clinging your arms around his neck. This is it. The moment you've been waiting for. You knew he wanted you, you just don't know how to prove it.
He unbuttons your blouse and yanks off your pencil skirt in the blink of an eye. You did the same to his clothes, struggling to undo the buttons with your shaky hands.
Soon enough, both of your clothes are discarded on the floor and he's kissing you hungrily.
He tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and trails down to your chin, lifting it up to make eye contact with you.
“Nanami—”
“Kento.” he corrects.
“Fuck me, please, Kento.” you tried to press your weight to his. He just smirks at you in return.
“Beg for it.” he turned you back and pressed you to the window and you could almost feel the entire city watching the two of you inside the skyscraper.
“Make me.” you responded, not wanting to obey another order from your boss.
The thrill of getting caught in the act made you even more excited. Your heart rate rises when he pulls your hair, making you arch back. His other hand cupped your left boob making you whimper.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself.” he leans closer to you and whispers to you, kissing your ear that makes you tingle. “Beg. for. it.”
Anyone from the outside could catch the two of you if they looked close enough. The thought of it makes you even wetter.
Right now, all you care about is what's happening from the inside and tonight, you decided that you're not clocking out until you get to fuck Nanami Kento.
“Please, fuck me. I need you, Kento.”
That's all that he needs to hear before he proceeds to bend you down on his desk.
Your stomach felt the cold desk immediately but you didn't have enough time to react because Kento’s hand reached out and pulled your hair, making your body weight shift up from the cold desk.
“Let this be a lesson for you to stop being such a brat.” his hand spanked your ass and you jolted, not expecting he'd do that. You let out a muffled sound.
His fingers find their way to your clit and circle around it. Soon enough, his index finger slips inside you, then another.
You let out a satisfied moan when he curved his fingers. Once you are wet enough, Kento grabbed his hard cock and started pumping it before he angled his tip on your dripping opening.
“Are you sure about this?” he gives you one last chance to back off before it's too late. You nodded your head.
“Use your words.” he spanks you again.
“Yes, I'm sure—”
That's all Kento needed to hear before he grabs your ass and thrusts into you. You swear you almost escalated to heaven. For a moment, your vision turned white and the sound you let out was utterly embarrassing.
He smacks your ass again, “You like that, you brat?” he thrusts even harder, hitting every sweet spot of yours. You let out a long embarrassing moan.
Your hand grips the edge of the desk, holding it for your dear life.
“What? Cat got your tongue now?”
You moaned in response, head too foggy to think of what to say. He spanks you hard.
“Yes, just like that!” he continues to thrust deep in you, pulling you hair as he places kisses on your shoulder. He made sure to leave some marks. For the memories.
The sound of a phone ringing from a distance didn't make Kento stop.
“Keep quiet.” He flips your body and how you're laying on your back. You lift your legs and place it on his shoulders. He continues to fuck you like a ragdoll.
He answers the phone and your eyes widened.
His hand massages one of your tits and pinches your nipple in between. You covered your mouth, trying your best not to let your moans escape your mouth.
Hot tears burst out from you trailing down your cheeks. You could see Kento's mouth moving, uttering out words you can't seem to make out.
Each thrust makes it even harder for you to contain your moans.
He hung up the phone and threw it somewhere on the floor. And you lost control, letting the moans out as you cried. You prayed that no one would pass by the office to witness this scandalous behavior of yours.
“I'm close.” you cried out. your hands gripped the edge of the desk right as you curl your toes.
The paperwork and things on his desk have long been scattered down on the floor. You couldn't care less.
“Together yeah?” he orders. He speeds up his thrusting. You didn't even notice your legs were shaking uncontrollably until he grabbed them.
You arched your back and his weight crashed down to your, shooting out white fluids on your stomach.
The adrenaline has slowed down and your brain has finally registered what you had just done.
Fuck.
Literally.
At least you got your answer.
Nanami Kento is definitely not a virgin.
a/n: please lmk what y'all think about this lololol thank you for reading!
tags: boss/assistant, piv, fingering, spanking, office sex, picking up the phone mid-sex, name calling
“Are you a virgin?”
You asked Nanami once when you were two hours past your shift to which he dodged the question.
It's nine in the evening on a Saturday night. You were supposed to be in the club with your girls, but here you are instead. Stuck in the same old boring office waiting for his signal for you to clock out.
Nanami seems to have other plans for you these past few days. You're supposed to leave work after ordering his dinner but lately he's been keeping you longer than your usual work hours and it's been pissing you off.
This happened for about four days now. And you might just know what it means but you don't want to assume too much.
You could see it in the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking. Or how he always offers to give you a ride home so you won't have to take the train.
He seems pretty invested in whatever work he's doing, so you asked random questions to gain his attention and to kill time.
“Where is this coming from?” your name left his lips like some kind of foreign language. He usually kept a stoic face, not showing much emotion. You could never tell what mood he's in.
But this time though, you could see his facial expression shift a little.
A smirk crept up your face.
“So you are a virgin.” you confirm your assumption. Nanami shut his eyes as he placed his fingers on his temple, tired dealing with whatever nonsense you're onto.
The man is in his late twenties and spends most of his days and nights in his crappy big office with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city view.
He probably spends more time with you than anyone else.
Does he even have a life outside this office?
“This is—” Nanami pauses to think of the right words to put out. “quite personal for work hours, yeah?”
“I got off work two hours ago.” you were just waiting for your signal to clock out and you are losing your patience.
He ignores you. But you poke him more.
“So you are a virgin, huh.” you repeated it like it's the prophecy written in the stars for him. You walked up to his desk and placed both hands on the desk. He finally lifted his head from his laptop.
“I had some experiences, yeah?” he gave in. His eyes went back to his laptop. You could feel his breathing shift, like he's more nervous.
He's definitely a virgin.
If you were to describe Nanami with just one word, you couldn't think of any words that fit him.
A workaholic, maybe. You could see his eyebrows furrowed when he's on the phone call with his clients.
He doesn't laugh at anything, takes everything way too seriously, and is way too focused on his company.
At some point in your life as his assistant, you thought that this man was going to die alone and that's a really sad reality for him.
Does he even have a life besides working? Is he even dating? Most guys his age have dated already at least.
He's just straight out boring and takes away the fun in everything. The age difference between the two of you isn't even that big, so you wonder what is considered ‘fun’ to him.
Probably working.
You nodded at his answer and just stared at him, trying to read what's on his mind. You have to admit, he does look hot, especially in his suit. Bet he looks even better without it.
You shake that thought away. Why are you even fantasizing about that? He's your boss.
“Do you have a wife?” you continue to ask away. This time you walked your way to the massive window displaying the glowing city on the horizon.
No answer.
You turned to face Nanami who seemed to be typing something on his laptop.
“A husband?” you tried again.
You could tell it was a rough day for Nanami by just the way he sighs. And you're probably making it even worse by asking him these weird personal questions.
You just want him to call it a night and kick you out.
“What?”
“It's okay, I don't judge you know, there's nothing wrong—”
“No.” he cuts you off.
You just stared at him. There are some white strands of hair visible on parts of his hair. Probably from all the stress he's carrying.
Maybe he could use a little stress reliever.
“Don't look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you made your way next to Nanami and leaned closer to take a peak on what he's working on.
That was it. Something inside Nanami just snapped.
He walked up to you at full speed and pinned you against the window. The kiss that follows was desperate, like he's been waiting for this moment for his whole life.
You kiss him back, clinging your arms around his neck. This is it. The moment you've been waiting for. You knew he wanted you, you just don't know how to prove it.
He unbuttons your blouse and yanks off your pencil skirt in the blink of an eye. You did the same to his clothes, struggling to undo the buttons with your shaky hands.
Soon enough, both of your clothes are discarded on the floor and he's kissing you hungrily.
He tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and trails down to your chin, lifting it up to make eye contact with you.
“Nanami—”
“Kento.” he corrects.
“Fuck me, please, Kento.” you tried to press your weight to his. He just smirks at you in return.
“Beg for it.” he turned you back and pressed you to the window and you could almost feel the entire city watching the two of you inside the skyscraper.
“Make me.” you responded, not wanting to obey another order from your boss.
The thrill of getting caught in the act made you even more excited. Your heart rate rises when he pulls your hair, making you arch back. His other hand cupped your left boob making you whimper.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself.” he leans closer to you and whispers to you, kissing your ear that makes you tingle. “Beg. for. it.”
Anyone from the outside could catch the two of you if they looked close enough. The thought of it makes you even wetter.
Right now, all you care about is what's happening from the inside and tonight, you decided that you're not clocking out until you get to fuck Nanami Kento.
“Please, fuck me. I need you, Kento.”
That's all that he needs to hear before he proceeds to bend you down on his desk.
Your stomach felt the cold desk immediately but you didn't have enough time to react because Kento’s hand reached out and pulled your hair, making your body weight shift up from the cold desk.
“Let this be a lesson for you to stop being such a brat.” his hand spanked your ass and you jolted, not expecting he'd do that. You let out a muffled sound.
His fingers find their way to your clit and circle around it. Soon enough, his index finger slips inside you, then another.
You let out a satisfied moan when he curved his fingers. Once you are wet enough, Kento grabbed his hard cock and started pumping it before he angled his tip on your dripping opening.
“Are you sure about this?” he gives you one last chance to back off before it's too late. You nodded your head.
“Use your words.” he spanks you again.
“Yes, I'm sure—”
That's all Kento needed to hear before he grabs your ass and thrusts into you. You swear you almost escalated to heaven. For a moment, your vision turned white and the sound you let out was utterly embarrassing.
He smacks your ass again, “You like that, you brat?” he thrusts even harder, hitting every sweet spot of yours. You let out a long embarrassing moan.
Your hand grips the edge of the desk, holding it for your dear life.
“What? Cat got your tongue now?”
You moaned in response, head too foggy to think of what to say. He spanks you hard.
“Yes, just like that!” he continues to thrust deep in you, pulling you hair as he places kisses on your shoulder. He made sure to leave some marks. For the memories.
The sound of a phone ringing from a distance didn't make Kento stop.
“Keep quiet.” He flips your body and how you're laying on your back. You lift your legs and place it on his shoulders. He continues to fuck you like a ragdoll.
He answers the phone and your eyes widened.
His hand massages one of your tits and pinches your nipple in between. You covered your mouth, trying your best not to let your moans escape your mouth.
Hot tears burst out from you trailing down your cheeks. You could see Kento's mouth moving, uttering out words you can't seem to make out.
Each thrust makes it even harder for you to contain your moans.
He hung up the phone and threw it somewhere on the floor. And you lost control, letting the moans out as you cried. You prayed that no one would pass by the office to witness this scandalous behavior of yours.
“I'm close.” you cried out. your hands gripped the edge of the desk right as you curl your toes.
The paperwork and things on his desk have long been scattered down on the floor. You couldn't care less.
“Together yeah?” he orders. He speeds up his thrusting. You didn't even notice your legs were shaking uncontrollably until he grabbed them.
You arched your back and his weight crashed down to your, shooting out white fluids on your stomach.
The adrenaline has slowed down and your brain has finally registered what you had just done.
Fuck.
Literally.
At least you got your answer.
Nanami Kento is definitely not a virgin.
a/n: please lmk what y'all think about this lololol thank you for reading!
# NSFW TWT ! NERDJO AU ⋆ 18+ MDNI | SMUT AHEAD ⋆ mean/popular fem!reader ⋆ secretly mutuals ⋆ satoru & reader make softporn on twt ⋆ university au ⋆ no use of y/n but reader’s alias is ‘love’ ⋆ fake dating ⋆ academic rivalry & animosity ⋆ satoru and reader hate each other ⋆ reader briefly cheats on her bf… sorry… ⋆ art by @to00fu & dividers by #omni.resources
You’re sitting in the back of Professor Hayashi’s ethics lecture, legs crossed, phone face-down on the desk like you’re actually paying attention, when Satoru Gojo raises his hand for the third fucking time this hour and somehow makes the entire room feel smaller.
Of course he knows the answer. Of course he phrases it like he’s doing everyone a favor. “The utilitarian framework falls apart here because—” blah blah blah and then he’s off, voice calm, a little bored, like he’s explaining why the sky is blue to toddlers. You can feel the collective sigh of relief from the front row. The guy next to you mutters “nerd” under his breath and you almost laugh because yeah, but it’s not that simple anymore. Not after three years of this.
Three years since first year orientation week, when he was still the tall, lanky transfer with the stupid white hair and glasses that actually suited him, trying to make friends or whatever the fuck new kids do. You were already deep in the popular crowd—frat parties, group chats that never died, the kind of social currency that made professors remember your name even when you skipped. He approached you after some icebreaker bullshit, asked if you wanted to grab coffee sometime, and you looked him dead in the eye in front of half the clique and said, loud enough for everyone to hear:
“Pass. I don’t do charity cases. Find someone who does.”
The laughter that followed? Beautiful for your ego. Terrible for his. You remember the way his face went blank for half a second before he just… nodded once and walked away. Like he filed it under never again. Good. That’s how it should’ve stayed.
Except it didn’t. Because now it’s third year and Satoru Gojo is topping every shared class you have. Every. Single. One. And he does it with that same quiet, smug little half-smile like he’s not even trying. Like your GPA is a joke he’s been workshopping since freshman year.
You glance over. He’s not even looking at you. Just staring straight ahead, long fingers tapping his pen against the desk in that irritating rhythm he does when he’s already ten steps ahead of the lecture. You wonder why he even attends if he so arrogantly knows everything. It’s fucking stupid. And annoying. His hoodie is the same faded black one he’s worn since second year. Glasses slightly crooked. Hair doing that messy thing that should look stupid but somehow doesn’t. You hate that you notice.
Your phone buzzes under your hand. Group chat with the girls.
Mika: party this weekend @ kappa
You: i’ll be there
Mika: bring ur bf??
You: we broke up lol
You didn’t. Not yet. But you will. Soon. He’s convenient for now—shows up to events, hot enough to make you look good, buys drinks, doesn’t ask too many questions when you disappear for “girls’ night.” You’re not proud of it. You’re also not not proud. Survival of the hottest or whatever they call it.
Lecture ends. You’re packing up slow, letting the crowd thin, when Satoru stands and stretches like a cat that knows it owns the couch. He catches your eye on the way out. That little smirk.
“Rough day, huh? You looked like you were actually thinking for once.”
You flip him off without hesitation. “Eat shit, Gojo. Some of us don’t have the luxury of being born with a silver spoon and a 4.0.”
He laughs—quiet, low, the kind that makes your stomach do something annoying because what’s so funny about this????—and keeps walking. “See you at the study group you’re definitely not invited to.”
“Wouldn’t go even if you begged.”
“Wouldn’t beg even if you paid me.”
The door shuts behind him and you exhale through your nose like a bull. Three years. Three fucking years of this. You should be over it. You are over it. Mostly.
Night falls the way it always does in this shitty campus apartment you share with two other girls who are never home. You’re in bed, laptop open to Twitter (yes, still Twitter), scrolling on your secret account because the main one is too public and your friends would lose their minds if they knew.
Lovesick is what you go by. “love” in the bio. Faceless, obviously. Soft lighting, artistic angles, the occasional video of your hand between your thighs or your tits pushed together in some lacy thing you only wear for this specific purpose. Captions that toe the line between horny and stupid. It started as stress relief sophomore year. Something fun on the side. A little side hustle, maybe. Now it’s… something else. A place where you don’t have to be the girl with the perfect image who people secretly hate but pretend to love for the sake of connections. Where you can just want shit without explaining why.
You’re bored. Thumb moving on autopilot. Then you see it.
Limitless posted fifteen minutes ago.
The username makes you pause every time. You only started noticing him this year—third year, when you were doom-scrolling one night after a particularly brutal exam and his post popped up on your For You. Faceless like you. Lean muscular body, long fingers, perfect dick, white hair cropped at the edges of the frame so you could never quite see his face. The content? God-tier. Slow strokes, controlled breathing, non-performative moans, captions that hit different. Not the usual bro-y “who want this dick” shit. More like… teasing. Almost cocky in a reserved sort of way that drove you up the wall with need and hormones.
Tonight’s post is a video. Ten seconds. Dim room, bedside lamp somewhere off screen that paints his skin in a soft almost angelic glow. His hand wrapped around his cock, slow and deliberate, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The caption underneath reads: “another day another dollar. or whatever the kids say these days. relief looks good on me doesn’t it”
You stare. Then you like it before your brain catches up. Then you reply because you’re weak and he’s been replying back lately and the banter is stupid and addictive.
lovesick: ok but why does your hand look like it pays taxes and has a 401k ??
He replies almost immediately after.
limitless: because it does. some of us are responsible adults who also jerk off like it’s a hobby
lovesick: responsible adults don’t post their dick on main at 1am toru
limitless: who said anything about main. this is the side quest love
You grin at your screen like an idiot. The alias thing started a few weeks ago when he called you “love” in a DM and you called him “toru” back as a joke. It stuck. Stupid. Comfortable. Easy in the way most anonymous and faceless things are. He doesn’t know you, you don’t know him. You flirt and get off to each other. There’s no risk. It’s perfect.
Your hand drifts under the blanket without thinking. You’re already wet from the video and the back-and-forth. Fingers slide easy, slow circles while you scroll his older posts with your other hand. He’s been at this longer than you—his account has that established vibe with a couple thousand followers. You only found him this year but now you’re mutuals, liking everything, replying to posts, dming at 2am like it’s normal.
A new message from him pops up.
limitless: you liked that one fast. needy tonight?
lovesick: shut up. some of us had a long day of pretending to be functional humans
limitless: oh no. did poor love have to use her brain again instead of being a brainless slut the whole day? tragic
lovesick: i will block you
limitless: no you won’t. you like when i’m mean to you
You bite your lip. He’s not wrong. The online version of him is cocky in a way the real Satoru Gojo never lets himself be in person. Or maybe he does and you just never see it because you’re too busy hating him. Either way, your fingers speed up. You type one-handed.
lovesick: maybe i like when you shut up and post more videos instead
limitless: bossy. i like it. what do you want to see tonight love
You hesitate. Then send a text—it’s got a typo because your hands are busy between your thighs and your brain’s already fogging up with the thought of his hand on his dick.
lovesick: yoir hand slow
limitless: are you typing with one hand rn lol? perv
lovesick: stfu nd hurry plz
He replies with a new video almost immediately. Same angle. Same controlled strokes. His dick’s already leaking precum at the tip from the previous efforts from when he was recording the video.
limitless: slow enough for you?
You come with your bottom lip between your teeth, sounds of pleasure escaping the gaps anyway because fuck if it doesn’t feel good. You let out a long sigh, the tension easing out of your body as you relax into your mattress, your cunt still pulsing with the intensity of your orgasm.
lovesick: yeah i made a mess
limitless: attagirl
Across campus, in a quiet single dorm that smells like expensive cologne and instant ramen, Satoru’s lying on his back with his phone in one hand and his dick in the other, watching the little “lovesick is typing…” bubble.
He found your account by accident this year too. Late night, algorithm doing its thing, and suddenly there you were—faceless, pretty hands, pretty tits, captions that made him laugh and get hard at the same time. He liked one of your posts on a burner thought. Then another. Then he noticed you’ve been following him for a few days. He followed back. Then you replied to something he posted and it spiraled into this weird, addictive thing where “toru” and “love” talk shit and flirt and get each other off without ever saying real names.
He doesn’t know it’s you. Not yet, at least. But sometimes when you post something particularly bratty he thinks about the girl in his ethics class who hates his guts and wonders if she’d sound like that if she ever let herself be honest. Maybe it just stems from hopeful thinking. He knows it’s dumb. Knows he should have more self respect.
Tonight he comes hard to one of your older posts where you’re fondling yourself and teasing your nipples along with the mental image of you touching yourself to him. Then he cleans up, stares at the ceiling, and mutters, “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” to no one in particular but himself.
Because across the city—or at least across the quad—you’re doing the exact same thing. Different bed. Same post-nut clarity that feels a lot like regret and satisfaction and “why the fuck am I like this.”
You roll over, grab your phone again, and open Instagram. Scroll aimlessly. Your boyfriend texted you three times while you were busy touching yourself to another guy whose face you’ve never even seen. You leave him on read. He’s not who you’re thinking about right now.
Somewhere on the other side of campus Satoru opens his Instagram—and sees a story from one of the frat guys he follows. A blurry photo of you at some pre-party earlier, laughing with your friends, looking untouchable and expensive.
He stares at it longer than he should.
Then he scoffs and locks his phone, puts it face-down, and tells himself for the thousandth time that he doesn’t care. That the girl who humiliated him in front of half the freshman class three years ago doesn’t get to live rent-free in his head just because she looks good in some fuckass picture some other guy posted.
He almost believes it but he still wonders why you rejected him that day—even three years after. A petty man he is.
You fall asleep with your phone still open to limitless’s latest reply before it eventually dims and shuts itself off.
He falls asleep thinking about the way you said his name in lecture today like it was a curse word.
Three years. Same game. Different rules.
And neither of you knows the other’s falling asleep thinking about one another for all the wrong and entirely different reasons.
i hope this series turns out the way i want it to cuz the vision i have is great… idk if i will be able to implement it properly LMFAO we shall see
You had just finished your finals and Satoru went to your apartment to celebrate.
You crack opened a champagne and called it a day. The long hours of tutoring paid off after spending almost half of it staring at his face and dozing off instead of actually listening to what he's talking about.
Finally, after months of suffering, you are finally free from calculus.
The two of you are leaning against the balcony ledge. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it's peaceful and the city lights in the horizon made the evening even better.
If Satoru learns how to shut up sometimes and not be a tease, you'd have a good life.
You turned around to look at him, he still looks so effortlessly good. He's one of those people who gets finer as they age.
“Do you want to kiss?” you have no idea why you said it out loud. Maybe it's the champagne kicking in. You do dream of kissing him though, or maybe doing more.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
You walked up closer to him and looked up at him with your eyes glimmering in the night. You lifted your toes and wrapped your arms on his neck, “Kiss?”
He just stares at you for a moment, processing the sudden change of atmosphere. He nods and that's all it took for you to kiss him.
It felt better than what you'd imagined. The moonlight shines above, giving a soft glow to the two of you.
He kisses you back while his right hand cups your cheek while his left finds its way to your waist. You could feel his tongue slip into you and you let out a soft whimper.
“Couch, now.” he said in between kisses. The two of you didn't break the kiss and continued on until your weight fell on the couch.
You were the first to break the kiss. Satoru’s glasses are now foggy from the kissing and heavy breathing. He almost looks disappointed because of it.
“Do you want to…do more?” you felt shy all of the sudden. You, asking Satoru to sleep with you.
“Hm?” a smirk crept through his stupid face. You could feel the blush on your ears. “Could you please elaborate that?” he uses your real name this time, which makes slit even wetter.
“Oh, c'mon, you know exactly what I mean.” you throw your hands up in the air in frustration. He pinches your cheeks and chuckles.
“There's nothing wrong with saying it out loud, hm? Now, don't be shy with me.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath before saying it. You opened your mouth, but you couldn't make the words out. You clenched your fists. “...fuck me…?” your question trailed off into a whisper, eyes looking at your fingernails.
“Yeah, fuck you.”
You slap his arm and he makes an ‘ow’ sound.
“OH MY—” you never felt so embarrassed before. “YOU—”
“What's wrong with saying the word sex?”
“Uh, nothing?”
“Then say it.”
You stared at him.
“Repeat after me, “Please have sex—”
“Please have sex with me, Satoru and also, fuck you.”
“Atta girl, there we go.” his hands find your chin and turn it to face him. Your face heats up more.
“Are you sure you want to do this, hm?”
You nod. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
He pulls you closer to him as he kisses your forehead first, then lifts up your chin to make eye contact with you and kisses you again on your lips. His hand makes its way to your waist as he closes the gap between the two of you.
It's slow, passionate even. His kiss slowly trails down to your neck and he starts kissing it. You let out a shaky breath.
That ugly smirk, you could feel it again but you chose to ignore it. Your hands play with his soft ivory hair.
You tugged the hem of his shirt, wanting him to take it off.
“That eager to see me naked already?”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles. “If you say so.” Satoru sing-songs, poking the middle of your nose. “Such a naughty girl.”
You raised your arms as he lifted your shirt up and tossed it somewhere in the living room. You did the same for him. His hands reach for the waistband of your shorts and tug it down. You're left in your undergarments and feel stupidly like a mess.
He placed a soft peck on your nose before scooping you up and headed to your bedroom.
You're now laying in your bed with your undergarments still on.
“Touch yourself.” your heartbeat rises. He's standing in front of you with his erection fully visible with the sweats he's wearing. You're not going to lie, that did catch you off guard.
You follow his order and spread your legs while maintaining eye contact with Satoru. You could definitely feel the wetness drenched in your underwear.
It's embarrassing, really really embarrassing. You started to rub your clit in circles, but it's not helping. You wanted him to help you.
“Quit staring and come help me.” you scolded him.
“Aw, but where's the fun in that.” he gives you a pout. He walks near you and plays with the clip of your bra. “You really want this, huh.”
“Do you even know how to unclasp a bra?”
He unclasps it effortlessly. Satoru then tugs down your underwear.
Now, you're fully naked as he tossed the last piece of clothing somewhere in your apartment. The cold air suddenly hits your skin and you shiver a bit.
This might be something you'll regret, but now, you just want more of this. You started to feel a bit shy, like you wanted to cover yourself.
He removes his pants and boxers at the same time. His cock sprung out immediately, and it's way bigger than what you've expected.
“That's so…” you trail off. “Thick and long.”
He climbs on top of you and kisses your neck. “Long enough for you to beg for more.” You wrap your arms around him, trying your best not to be loud. After another suck at your neck, you let out another shaky breath.
Satoru stops and looks at you, not at your naked body, no. He looks at you. Your eyes found him, and he kissed you again, on the forehead. “You're beautiful.”
The way he says your name makes your heart flutter. You just…stared at him, not knowing what to say back. You want him. You need him. He kisses you, and your heart starts to beat faster than usual. His kiss slowly trails down to your jaw, then your collarbones. Satoru gives your nipple a soft suck, then bites on it, but not too hard to make it feel pleasurable for you. He pinches the other nipple while doing so.
“Ah!” you covered your mouth to stop the embarrassing sound you just made. The sudden wave of pleasure makes your legs hug him. You could feel a smirk crept through his mouth.
“We're just getting started, love.” he kisses all the way down to your stomach, which turned out to be ticklish. “Don't hide those pretty whines from me, alright?” You let out a laugh.
“Satoru, it tickles!”
He lifts one of his eyebrows. “Oh?” he then pointed his index finger to your hip which made your body jolt. “Hmm…you're ticklish here, huh.”
“Satoru!” you whined. “Enough with the teasing.”
He chuckles. “Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing. You just look so cute when you're squirming under me.” he gives you a peck on your nose.
His kisses your stomach, kisses all the way until he's down to your—
He looks at you, waiting for permission for him to continue. Those cerulean blue eyes met yours and you nodded.
You held your breath as you clenched the bedsheets. He spreads your legs wider effortlessly with his two hands. You're soaked, you know this. You could feel the wetness dripping down. When you feel something warm on your slit, you feel his tongue slowly find its way to your clitoris, licking it in a slow pattern teasing you, making you shiver. Each second makes you hold your breath.
You're squirming now.
He lifted up his face to see you squirming, you could barely keep your legs open now, but he still holds them open, not letting you close it—and when you saw his face, his stupid face so stupidly beautiful—
He gave your clit a suck. The noise you let out was sinful. He smirked at you when he saw how you reacted to that. That sudden feeling made you arched your back, not meaning to push your hips to his face, but you did it anyway. And he seems to like it.
“You like that, hm?” he coos. Satoru cocks his head and smirks at you. You nodded.
“Ye—ah!” he sucks at it again, this time, he pinches your nipples while doing so, stimulating the nerves in your erogenous zone. “Satoru, more, just like that.”
He sucks it, licks it, whatever magic he can do with his tongue on your clit. He's devouring you. And each time he does that, your moans get louder and louder until you're a moaning mess.
“I'm—” you panted your chest. The pleasure is starting to get overwhelming now. Your legs start to shake and you could feel your clit pulsing, but Satoru forces them to stay open. “Satoru!” you called out. Throwing your head back, your right hand grabbing the headboard of his bed. “T-too much—”
“We haven't even got to the fun part yet, princess.” he pushes a finger inside you and you swore it just keeps getting better. He's eating you out like you're his last meal—hungry, eager, desperate while he fingers you out.
You shut your eyes close, feeling your climax nearing. When Satoru sees this, he grabs you by the jaw. “Look at me, love.”
Your eyes lock into his as you let out one last sharp moan while you let out your climax, legs shaking irresistibly.
He quickly stood up and shuffled out his wallet from the pocket of his pants thrown on the floor, grabbing out an XL condom—the one you saw him buying one time in the convenience store.
This is actually happening.
You hold your breath as you watch him make his way to you, climbing on top of you again. He rips off the condom and slides it up to his hard cock.
“Wait here, princess.”
“Huh?"
Oh?
Oh.
Oh!
He grabs your vibrator and your eyes widen. “Want to spice things up, hm?” he turns on the vibrator and the vibration sounds send shivers down your spine.
He just sucked the life out of your clit. You're not sure if you can survive another one.
“Sure. I mean, it's worth the try.”
He hands you the vibrator at the lowest speed. “Let's use that while I fuck this pretty pussy of yours, yeah?”
He lifted one of your legs and placed it above his shoulder. “Tell me to stop if you can't handle it anymore, ‘kay? Tap me on the shoulder twice.” Satoru flashes you a grin and a thumbs up.
“Oh, trust me, I definitely can handle you.”
“Hm, you're cute. We'll see about that.” he placed a kiss on your forehead. You grabbed his erect cock and guided him into your hole before placing the vibrator on your overstimulated clit.
The two of you let out a moan when the thrust inside you, but not fully. He's barely in you and your free hand clings to Satoru’s shoulder, leaving clawmarks on it. The intense pleasure rushes over your body. With his hard cock in you and the vibrator on the lowest speed—you started to lose it.
You didn't care how loud you got, good thing he's your only neighbor. You just hope the tenants below won't hear the bed creaking and the loud pounding sounds of sex.
“Fuck—” his breath hitches. You feel him sinking inside you. His cock twitches a bit while he's trying to get his dick fully in you. “You're squeezing me in, babe.”
“‘toru—” you shut your eyes and throw your head back against your bed. “Fuck.”
His hand found its way to your face, grabs it, and kisses you eagerly.
“Eyes on me now, princess.” he waits until you are fully adjusted and comfortable before he starts thrusting. He thrusts in a slow pattern, maintaining eye contact. His finger rubs your nipple in a slow pattern, then pinches it. You arch your back at the sudden pleasure flushed on you.
“Like that, sugar?”
This—
Feels good. Too good.
“Mhhngh—” you could barely make out your words. “Haaaah!” The stimulation from the vibrator and how he pinches your nipples and thrusts into you is sending you into a spiral.
“You're sensitive, I like that.” he sucks and pinches your nipple while doing some slow thrusts.
He adjusted the vibration, turning it a speed higher.
The rooms filled with clapping sounds from the way he's pounding you, each minute getting faster and faster. He's not holding back now. And you were a moaning mess under him.
The vibrator you were holding was long thrown away somewhere on the floor still buzzing. This pleasure is too much—too much, but oh, it feels so good when it's Satoru who's doing the work.
“Ngh! Satoru.” you cried out loud, curling your toes. “Harder! Hmp, ah—!”
“Hm…enjoying your view, sugar? And yet I thought you said you'll never say those words out loud. Guess I'm the winner now.” he continues to fuck the brains out of you.
“What—”
He gives you a hard thrust, picking up his pace, hitting every sweet spot possible.
Your tits are bouncing non-stop and the bed might actually break from the way its creaking sounds get louder.
“Nghmn. I'm close, ‘toru!”
“Hang on there, pretty.” he leans down to give you a kiss between those cute sinful moans of yours.
His hand reached for the vibrator you threw away and places it on your clit and—
“Fuuuuck! Sa-ah! ‘toru. Mhgmm—” you cried out loud, not even ashamed anymore. Your hands hugged his back, nails digging deep into his skin. The sudden surprise made you jolt your body and his dick hit another sweet spot of yours which made you cry out loud.
This might be the best sex you have ever had.
“I'm…” you tried to make out your words. “Coming.” you let out one last loud cry before finishing. Satoru didn't stop though, he still bangs on you like there's no tomorrow. After a few seconds, his weight crashes into yours and he pulls out before he finishes.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, soft moans here and there. You were panting and out of breath. Satoru looks up at you and kisses your forehead again.
You were about to hug him when he stood up and closed the AC.
You're confused. “Why did you turn off the AC?”
“Honey, you're sweating, don't wanna get sick now, do you?” he removed the condom filled with his fluids, tied it into a knot and threw it to the side.
“Wait, just stay there.” he went to your washroom and grabbed a clean cloth to clean you up. You spread your legs shyly as he wiped every bit off, cleaning you up. You shiver a bit when the cloth accidentally brushes your clit, and he felt bad he went too hard on you.
“Sorry for that.”
You kissed him lazily. “Nah, don't be. I loved it.”
After that, the two of you stayed in bed for a while in each other's embrace.
“Can you walk?” Satoru asks. “Or like, where does it hurt?”
“Dunno, I feel sore.” you tried to stand up from your bed but felt a sharp pain and started limping.
“Oops, my bad.” he brushes his hair nervously. “I'll go easier on you next time.” he placed a soft peck on your forehead.
Satoru helped you put your clothes back on before heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for you.
“Drink up, gotta hydrate yourself again after…you know.” you let out a soft smile. You gulp down the water immediately, leaving none for him. The aftermath of having sex really does drain you out.
“Do you want to eat something, hm?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
He stood there, contemplating something.
“Do I say it?” he questions you, unsure if he should really say whatever's in his mind.
“Hm?”
“Look, I know we just, you know, fucked, and yeah, it felt good, really good. I mean, it's you that made it a whole lot better. And I don't want you to feel like I'm using you, or want to make you feel like you're one of my casual fucks from before, because you're far from it. You're far from casual, and I just don't want you to think that. Because you're different, you're just well, you. And, I—”
“Satoru,” you interrupted him. “Just say it. I'm not mad or disgusted. I know you’re quite into me in a serious way which is why I, well, asked for it.”
“Okay.” he takes a deep breath. He speaks your name, “May I be your boyfriend…perchance? Like, boyfriend-girfriend type of relationship.”
You gaped at him.
“Look, I know this sounds stupid and I wanted to make it more special, you know, with balloons and flowers and candles, in a more romantic setting.”
“Satoru, shut up, of course I'll be your girlfriend.” you kissed him. “You don't have to feel bad about it.” you pinch his cheeks.
a/n: i wrote this a few months ago and it's been sitting on my docs so i figure why not post this lololol hope y'all like this
synopsis: with no friends and a wallet full of cash, you concoct one last idea to make your final semester one to remember. paying everyone's favorite pretty playboy to pretend to be your boyfriend to complete your college bucket list before you start the life your family is forcing you into. but you might be buying far more than you bargained for.
pairings: broke!Geto x rich!Reader x dropout!Sukuna
content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, college au, fake dating, pining, yearning, falling in love, jealousy, hurt/comfort, piv sex, drunk sex, oral (m! + f! receiving), car sex, making out, drinking and parties, piercings/tattoos, complicated feelings, regret, healing, more tags in each part
synopsis: he shows up in spider-man pajamas and a box of chocolates, and suddenly your first date with satoru gojo is anything but innocent on valentines day. between teasing touches, awkward confessions, and nerves that won’t quit, the night becomes a lesson in temptation, discovery, and how dangerously good firsts can feel.
pairing(s): nerdjo x shy fem!reader
c.w. & w.c.: 7.1k :: inexperienced/virgin reader & nerdjo :: smut with plot :: oral (f receiving) :: p in v :: fluff :: anxiety :: happy ending
it was a week before valentines or maybe it was tomorrow, you couldn't remember.
nor did you really care, at least that's what you kept telling yourself- to make yourself feel better? likely.
you're already running behind- taking too long to do your hair and the light makeup you always brushed onto your cheeks.
you don't know why you did that. wearing makeup, nobody paid you a second glance, you were the quiet college student rushing to each class before the professors made it into the classroom.
maybe, it was because that white haired boy and wanting to catch his eye- perhaps you did care just slightly about valentines day.
you quickly find your seat in the classroom, running just a few seconds late and set your bag down beside you before pulling out your notebook and pencil.
"hey, you find a date for v-day yet?" a low whisper hits the back of your ear.
shoko.
your best friend, really the only friend you've made.
your shoulders stiffen, just barely but noticeable to her before you answer.
"no," you say softly, trying to mask the disappointment in your tone and the heat crawling up your neck. "it's okay. have you?"
"geto asked me a few days ago," her words hesitate for just a second seeing the flicker in your eyes. "i said yes. i can ask if you can join us."
shoko was never as shy as you were and you always envied that part about her- always making friends and putting herself out there to make new connections with others while you on the other hand, never did.
your skin crawls at the thought of joining her and geto on the date.
third wheeling? absolutely not.
before you can answer her, your attention is pulled back towards the front of the room where the squeaky door is swinging open again-
your breath catches in your throat before you're able to control it when you see that fluffy white hair and those framed ocean blue eyes- gojo, he's always had that effect on you.
shoko catches your reaction and the way your eyes follow him to his seat- she's always known you liked him, you never shut up about him. his glasses, his eyes, his hair, the times you've caught the faintest whiff of the cologne he was wearing.
"you could always ask him out." shoko whispers, those brown eyes gleaming with mischief.
you'd rather die.
your thoughts haven't slowed once since he walked in and your eyes haven't wavered once- you've never been more thankful that he sits towards the front of the room with his back towards you.
though, you always did feel like he could sense something, or someone staring into his soul with how often he would turn around only to immediately lock eyes with you before quickly turning to face the board again.
but never without offering you one of his tight lipped smiles.
"no, i'm good- and don't ask geto if i can join the two of you. . .that's weird."
shoko sighs before leaning back in her seat. "suit yourself, loner."
maybe she'll bring you a slice of cake back that you can eat while watching some sappy rom-com movie about love and dreaming about gojo and those electric blue eyes.
should you listen to shoko's advice and ask him out? from what you know about him, he was just as shy as you were.
the worst he could possibly say is no, or he'd laugh right in your face. no, he wouldn't do that.
before your thoughts can drag you any further into the abyss, the professor is walking in. you blink, trying to reassign your focus on the front of classroom and away from-
gojo's eyes staring right back into yours- those blue eyes are gazing into yours like he's reading every thought flying through your mind.
you know your face must be as bright as ripe cherries, your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you still haven't pried your eyes away from his, yet.
the history professor clears his throat, the rasp of his voice slicing your thoughts like a blade. "alright, settle down. today we're going over-"
you finally tear your eyes away from gojo's piercing gaze, letting them fall back to your notebook, your mind isn't picking up any of the words. instead, your mind drifts. again.
back to the fleeting moments of the interactions the two of you have had- the accidental touches in the library when you would exchange notes, the soft laughs when you'd crack a small joke that only you felt like you could hear or the ridiculous way you'd both spot each other in any room.
a smile tugs at the corner of your lips at the memories and you quickly hide it, eyes gliding to gojo for just a brief second. good. he's paying attention to the professor.
the professors words drone on- sounding more like a distant background noise instead of someone actively speaking loudly just steps away. something about dates, wars, revolutionary- it all floats in one ear and out the other.
you eventually put your pencil to your notebook, so you can at least look like you're paying attention while your mind is looped with thoughts of him.
you force yourself to jot down notes but your handwriting is sloppy, nothing like your neat and pristine handwriting you use when you're typically in class.
time looms on for the next hour, trying your hardest to avoid staring at him even when you'd catch him turning his head to steal a glance at you before averting his eyes like he wasn't supposed to be watching.
when you finally did decide to look again is exactly when you caught the tail end of your professors words. "—and that's all for today. you can leave now."
you blink and let out a sigh of relief. finally, you can get out of this class and away from your humiliation of staring at gojo and the defeat that lingered from shoko's words.
you're shoving your notebook and pencil back into your bag, bending your cover in the midst of it when shoko's voice pricks your ears again.
"do you want to come over tonight? we can order chinese, watch a dumb movie and i'll let you help me pick what to wear."
you hold back another sigh. she's just trying to be supportive, that's what you tell yourself- if for anything, your sanity.
"uh, sure- i'll come by. what time?" you ask her, mental exhaustion already creeping in with the linger of dread of what you'll have to listen to tonight.
you don't really want to go over to her dorm and listen to her ramble on about her date with geto, the boy who she's been crushing on a shorter period of time than you've liked gojo. you know it's the jealousy creeping its way in; it always does.
"mmm. whenever, we have four hours left of hell-" she says, already moving towards the door to head to the next class. "just text me."
maybe you can say you toppled down the stairs and broke your leg, that could get you out of it. no- she would just bring her wardrobe to you and torture you in your own peaceful corner.
you bend over to grab your bag when a shadow looms over you- not dangerously, not too close but a comfortable distance, reflected on the ground below the classrooms fluorescent lighting.
your nerves are already bundling in the pit of your stomach when your eyes catch the shoes- those squeaky clean and checkered vans. the shoes that have probably never stepped a single toe into mud or a dust particle. gojo's
your breath hitches when the realization finally slams in. your back straightens out before you can talk yourself back from it or just bolt from the room. your eyes immediately meet his.
gojo is standing awkwardly- one hand on the shoulder strap of his book bag while his other arm hangs loosely and fidgeting his fingers like a nervous tic.
you clear your throat softly. "hi gojo, everything okay?"
his blue eyes widen like he wasnt expecting you to say something first, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows before his hand is tightening on the strap of his bag.
“yeah! i mean, yeah. everything’s fine.” he pauses with a wince like he already hates how that sounded. “i just. . .uh.”
the silence stretches with your nerves when he pauses- it's thick, unbearable and only broken by the scrape of the chair and the scruff of shoes as other students leave the room. you're becoming more aware of just how close the two of you are standing, too close to breathe normally.
“i was wondering,” he starts again, voice quieter now, almost hesitant and shy. his eyes flickering anywhere but yours- the floor, the whiteboard, the door- before finally landing back on yours. “if you were busy on valentine’s day?"
your breath stutters, right along with your heart. you blink, still staring directly into his eyes, not being able to pull them away but not being able to move your mouth to even answer him.
gojo notices your hesitation, eyes widening just a fraction larger. “i mean,” he rushes on, words tripping over each other, “if you are, that’s totally fine. like, completely fine. i just thought-” another pause, fingers fidgeting harder now. “i thought maybe we could hang out. watch a movie or something. order pizza.”
he offers you a small, tight lipped and no doubt nervous smile as your mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish.
"it can be just us-"
"-yes" your words cutting through gojo's rambles, it slips out before you can second guess yourself. "i- i mean, i'm not busy on valentines day. sorry."
your cheeks heat up at your mishap, fingers curling into the strap of your bag like it might anchor you in place.
gojo freezes.
and for a split second he just stares at you, blue eyes wide and unblinking like his brain is desperately trying to catch up with what you just said. then- and slowly- his shoulders drop, tension melting out of him in a way that makes your chest ache.
“oh,” he says, dumbly. then, quieter, softer, “oh.”
a smile starts to tug at his lips before he can stop it. it’s small at first, hesitant, like he’s afraid it might disappear if he acknowledges it too much. his fingers still fidget, but not as frantic now.
“you’re not. . .busy?” he asks, just to be sure, confirming after your little moment.
you shake your head, a little too eagerly. “no. i’m not.”
the grin that spreads across his face this time is real- warm, a little crooked. the kind that makes your heart do flips in your chest.
“okay,” he breathes out, almost like a laugh. “okay, good. i mean- not good that you didn’t have plans. just- good. for me. for us. i think.”
you let out a tiny, nervous huff of a laugh before you can stop yourself.
“pizza and a movie sounds. . .nice,” you add, quieter now- nerves slowly fraying away.
gojo’s ears turn pink at the tips, noticeably so.
“yeah?” he asks. “i mean- yeah. cool. nice is good.”
the classroom is almost empty now, the last of the noise fading as the door swings shut behind the final student. suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you, standing in the quiet aftermath of something that feels important.
“i can- uh,” he adjusts the strap of his bag again. “i can text you? about when and stuff?”
“yeah,” you nod. “yeah, that works.”
you and gojo quickly swap phones to put each other's number in before another small pause settles between the two of you- not bad. lighter and more charged.
“happy early valentine’s day,” he says softly as he turns to leave the classroom.
your heart melts a little.
“happy early valentine’s day, gojo” you echo.
you stand there watching him leave the classroom before another voice is shattering your stunned silence.
"i knew it, i knew it and i couldn't tell you- oh my god!" shoko excited voice comes from behind, clamping her hand down onto your shoulder. "geto told me that gojo was planning to ask you, made me swear i wouldn't spill a bean."
your heart is thundering in your chest, loud enough you're sure shoko can hear it before you turn to face her, cheeks still flaming like a bonfire.
"he asked me out-" your eyes are set on gojo's number on your screen, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "well, in but- i have a date. for valentines."
shoko's hand shakes your shoulder slightly, averting your attention from the number and to her face. "i know, i know- geto helped him so much, it was so sappy and a little pathetic."
"valentines is still a few days away, i have time to process this-"
"valentines is tomorrow. get it together, sweets."
"tomorrow?" your mouth runs dry when you look back to your phone.
the date, february 13th is staring right back at you. valentines is tomorrow.
"you two are staying in, right?" shoko asks, gently pulling you into the hall to move to the next class.
"yeah, pizza and a movie."
"and sex." shoko whispers right into your ear, careful to avoid others students in the hall hearing.
you nearly trip over your own feet at her words, the squeak coming from your shoe causing a few students to look your way like you inconvenienced their important conversations. you freeze, neck snapping over to look at her gleaming eyes.
"w-what did you just say?"
"sex. happens like every valentines, even for the shys and the nerds, trust me."
if your heart speeds up anymore, you're sure it's gonna run flat out of your chest.
"i can't, i can't have sex-"
"why not? are you a virgin? it's college, loosen up." shoko says, like it's easy- you wouldn't even know what to expect.
you hesitate at her question and she catches it before covering her mouth with her hand that's fallen open.
"you are a virgin, aren't you?"
"yeah. ." you whisper, you didn't even want to answer but you know shoko, she wouldn't have dropped the topic until you did. "i am."
she pats you on the back before you walk into your next lecture. "don't worry, he probably is too."
that's something you could believe, as rude as it sounds. you haven't known him super long but while you have, you've never once seen him with a woman, let alone even looking at one until you'd catch his eye's on you in class.
"be gentle with each other, first times are special." shoko whispers before finally disappearing into the wave of students.
the nerves that had faded came back ten fold in your stomach as you found your seat in your next class, churning and pulling at every nerve in your body like a live wire touching water.
-
you had never been more thankful to step back outside and into the warm air than you were today. you barely had any focus in any of your classes, thinking of gojo, tomorrow, the movie, what to wear and the heavy topic shoko left you spiraling with.
losing your virginity? this was your first date, he wasn't even your boyfriend, yet. would it hurt? would the both of you look like fools, if it was indeed his first time too?
your thoughts are broken by the short vibration in your pocket, you quickly pull out your phone when you see gojo's name in your notification bar.
satoru gojo: hey. is 6pm a good time for you tomorrow night? we can do earlier or later, entirely up to you.
before you can type a message back, another one is pinging through.
satoru gojo: and would you like to come to my dorm? or i can come to yours. i want you to be where you feel comfortable. pajamas or are we dressing up for pizza and a movie?
your heart swells at his thoughtfulness before typing a quick text back to him-
6pm is perfect, can we do my dorm? i have a comfortable bed, dont worry and pajamas work- haha, no need for dresses and suits over some greasy pizza and a movie.
gojo's text comes through seconds after you hit send.
satoru gojo: perfect. your dorm it is. i'll wear my fanciest pajamas, i wont disappoint ;)
you can't stop the dorky grin pulling at your mouth before you pocket your phone and start your short trek back to your dorm room- you need to clean up, get rid of that mountain of clothes on your chair that haunts you in the middle of the night.
you quickly bob and weave between all of the students trying to make it to their cars or to their own dorms, offering short "sorrys" and "excuse me's" when sliding in between bodies or bumping into someone.
the disbelief still sat heavy in your chest, the feeling mixing with the excitement and the nerves still twisting deep in your gut.
you reach your dorm before you realize how fast your feet were carrying you. the familiar brick exterior looms in front of you, students drift in and out of the building- laughing, talking, living completely normal lives like something monumental didn't just happen.
like you didn't just agree to a valentines date with satoru gojo.
your hand hesitates on the door handle before pushing the door open to walk down another long hall to your room.
your roommate isn't there when you open the door and it's exactly how you left it. chaotic- clothes draped over your chair, textbooks stacked unevenly and threatening to topple over, empty water bottles strewn across the floor. it's hell.
your heart drops straight to your feet when the realization hits you- you told gojo the date would be here. your dorm.
"oh my god." you mutter, your hands fly into your hair as you stare longer at the mess- having some inner hope that it would mysteriously clean itself up if you stare hard enough.
you walk further into the room before spinning in a slow circle, more and more thoughts looping through your mind. this is unacceptable, what if he thinks your room smells weird or that your bed is too small?
sighing, you drop your bag onto your bed and start moving to clean, as if you don't have an entire day left to still do it.
you start grabbing all the clothes before shoving them into a laundry basket hidden away in your closet, wiping down your desk that's dust covered with your makeup and really, who knows what else before opening your window to air out your dorm.
it didn't have a smell, quite the opposite actually- you always made it a habit to use room freshener daily, if not multiple times a day causing your room to smell like flowers.
the rest of your afternoon blurs into you moving like a maniac in a montage to finish your room, by the end of it- you found the library book you could've sworn your roommate stole, a moldy granola bar and mismatched socks.
you rearranged your pillows a for the last time, for tonight before collapsing onto your bed.
what kind of pajamas do you wear? silky? cotton? shorts and a tank top or your typical go-to of sweatpants and whichever shirt you grabbed first that somehow always had a stain on it.
before your thoughts could take you any further, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. your heart sped up at the thought of it being gojo again, just to see shoko's name lighting up on your screen.
you swipe to answer, masking your sigh as a pathetic cough. "hello?"
"are you spiral cleaning yet?" there's a laugh in the background, probably geto.
"mm- no, i've kept my dorm clean all week-" you lie smoothly, you weren't about to admit that you spiraled the second you walked in. "have you found a dress?"
"no, i'll send you some pictures later. help me choose one, i only have a few options."
you can hear her whispering something to geto before you hear movement and a door shut-
her voice cuts through the line again in a hushed whisper. "have you shaved? i can come wax you."
the nerves you had managed to ignore long enough with your cleaning jump into your throat again. her words from earlier replaying in your mind like a broken mixtape- "sex. happens like every valentines, even for the shys and the nerds, trust me."
"are you there?"
"yeah, yeah, im here but- no, i haven't. later, probably." you huff out, you didn't want to think about it, - about sex, about shaving, any of it.
you weren't opposed to having sex with gojo. you just didn't know what you were doing, truth be told. the most you've ever had was a man go down on you at the beginning of the year after you were dragged to a party by shoko to try and get you out of your shell.
clearly, that didn't work. and neither did the man on giving you an orgasm.
"well, i know geto gave him some pointers tonight-" shoko whispers, sounding excited for you.
the blush, unseen resting on your cheeks had to be the color of a firetruck by now.
"what?" you sit up in bed, suddenly laser focused in on the phone call.
your heart was pounding in your chest. was gojo going through the same humiliating ritual with geto that shoko was putting you through?
you squeeze your eyes shut, you're about to ask again- or for further information when you could hear geto in the background calling for shoko to come back out and finish whatever they were doing.
you didn't want to know, either.
shoko sighs, defeated on the fact that she was cock blocked from giving you anymore information. "i gotta go, let me know how tomorrow goes. get dick."
there's a click before the line goes silent and reverts back to your home screen.
"story of my life." you whisper to yourself, you place your phone back on the nightstand before plopping back into your pillows and rolling onto your side.
you were too exhausted from the events of the day to move from your bed, too riddled with nerves- your first date. with your crush. in your dorm.
it was all too much to process, at least for tonight.
-
valentines morning came quick, too quick.
the light pouring in from the window you never shut was the first thing you noticed before you heard your phone buzz once with a notification.
you blink the sleep away from your eyes before grabbing it, still lazily in bed-
satoru gojo: good morning and happy valentines. i hope you had a good rest. are you still okay for the movie night?
a sleepy smile tugs at your lips before you type back- happy valentines. movie is still great!
there were no classes today, you had hours to get ready. though, the room was done, so all you needed was to pick out a decent pair of pajamas that didn't have the latest pizza nights stain on them and shower.
perfect.
you slowly climb out of bed and walk to your dresser before sliding open the drawers- spider man pants? no. though, a nerd would probably like those.
you keep shoveling through your drawer when you come across your sleep shorts, the ones you always manage to lose. the ones that actually make your ass look good.
would that be too much? would he think you're begging to sleep with him from a pair of pajama bottoms?
you toss the shorts onto your shoulder before you can overthink yourself out of it. that would be the story of your life. you're able to find a shirt without a stain or tear with quickness.
maybe, this is a sign of good luck.
you're about to move to the shower when another buzz comes from your phone.
a text from shoko.
shoko: don't wear granny panties. wear that nice pair you got from vs.
she would think so little of you, wouldn't she? but when you pulled down the clothes from your shoulder, pulling the underwear from the stack. . .maybe she had a point.
you don't bother texting her back. you need to find that black lace set you got months ago and never had the opportunity to wear yet.
thankfully, you don't have to rustle too far or deep into your closet to find it. the bag, crisp and pristine, tissue paper untouched was exactly where you left it on the top shelf of your closet.
you quickly move into the bathroom to undress and get into the shower- washing your hair twice, scrubbing you body with a body sugar that your mom got you last christmas before drenching your body in soap and shaving cream.
stepping out to dry off, you felt like a new woman. not really, but your entire body smelled like coconut and was as soft as silk. so, same difference.
sliding on the lace bra and underwear felt foreign on your skin- on your entire body. the set fit like a glove, making you feel confident before sliding your legs into the sleep shorts and shirt.
the rest of the day passed in a blur- triple checking your room for any crumbs that would've magically appeared, texting gojo the directions to your dorm, ignoring shoko's helpful tips and watching a comedy show to help ignore the nerves pulling at every inch of your soul.
it worked. probably a little too well when it lured you into a sleep-induced coma.
you were confident the universe was looking out for you when you pried your eyeballs back open to see the sun was thankfully up and you didn't unintentionally ghost gojo.
5:56pm.
he'd be here any minute, he was always on time. calculated to perfection, probably standing outside your dorm room waiting to knock. not that you were going to check.
the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as you watched the time on your phone- if you didn't know any better, you would've thought an elephant was on your shoulders with the stress you were suffocating yourself with right now.
5:59pm.
one minute left.
you stand up from your bed and tidy the sheets and blanket before bolting softly over to your mirror to get one last fit check in. it looks good. so good.
you turn, just barely to get a side profile of your outfit
"get it together. you've liked him since the beginning of the year, c'mon." you whisper to yourself, your hands are trembling- it's the nerves, your anxiety. you can feel your heart hammering against your ribs as the seconds tick by.
the lump in your throat grows thicker when your mind flickers to him. you could only imagine the nerves he must be feeling right now. actually, was this even his first date?
maybe. just maybe, this wasn't his first date-
you're violently shaken from your thoughts when 3 reps of knocks hit your door.
he's here.
"open the door, you can't leave him out there." you mutter, forcing your feet to move before you decide to dive under your covers and fake your death.
you make it to the door, slowly. your hand hesitates on the door handle, still trembling, you grab the door handle harder before twisting it- it's cold under your fingertips, grounding you in the moment and greeting him.
your heart swells at the sight in front of you. gojo in all his glory, blacked rimmed glasses, those electric blue eyes and that white hair you wish you could run your fingers through.
yeah, you should've worn the spider-man pajama bottoms. gojo is in baggy spider-man pajama bottoms with the matching shirt to go along with it. you never noticed how thick his arms were before, he was always in that hoodie. were you checking him out right now?
gojo clears his throat softly. "happy valentines day."
you blink. you already feel the heat fighting its way into your cheeks.
"happy valentines day," you say with a soft smile, you step back to open the door further. "you can come in. welcome to my humble abode."
gojo lets out a sigh that sounded more like a disguised laugh before walking into your room. his cologne hits your nose before anything- the smell is intoxicating when you breathe it in. something woodsy and earthy.
he's here. standing in your room.
you quickly shut the door before turning back around to face him.
"here. uh-" gojo starts, handing you a heart shaped box of mixed chocolates. "i wasn't sure.. which chocolate you liked, so i got a variety."
you stare down at the heart-shaped box, heat crawling up your neck. “oh. . .uhm-” your words stumble out. “i-i’m allergic to cocoa beans, actually.”
gojo freezes in his stance, the box of chocolates getting squeezed under his fingers. his eyes go wide, then a small, nervous laugh escapes him. “wha- wait, really?”
you nod, cheeks flaming hotter than before. “y-yeah. . .i should’ve told you.”
for a second, there’s a pause- awkward, tense, and weirdly sweet. then, gojo’s grin returns, sheepish but genuine. “well. . .guess i’m officially the worst valentine’s gift-giver ever.”
you can’t help it- a small, nervous giggle escapes your lips. “not the worst. . .maybe just the most… thoughtful?”
he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “thoughtful? yeah, i’ll take that. but next year. . .i’m doing research on your allergies first.”
next year? was he wanting to be with you again next valentines too?
before you let the thought take you under, your arm is shooting out. "we can sit on the bed, i'll pull out the movies i have. if none look interesting, we can stream one."
"do you have any marvel movies?" gojo starts moving to the bed, but not without placing the box of chocolates by the door. "you can never go wrong with marvel."
you heart picks up speed again as you crouch to look through your movie bin. "i have the spider-man movie," you hear the bed creak under his weight. "based on the pajama pants, i think you'd like it."
"spider-man is great," you can hear the smile in gojo's voice while you place the dvd into the disc player, double checking it for any scratches. "is spider-man okay with you?"
you nod quickly, a little too eagerly, as you grab the remote and hit play on the dvd player. "yeah, spider-man's perfect. i haven't watched it in forever." your voice comes out steadier than you feel, but your hands are still shaky as you climb onto the bed beside him, careful to leave a polite gap between your bodies.
the mattress dips under your weight, and you tuck your legs under you, pretending to focus on the opening credits rolling across the tv screen mounted on your wall.
gojo shifts a bit, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his spider-man pants riding up just enough to show a sliver of ankle. he's leaning back against the headboard, arms crossed casually over his chest, but you notice the way his fingers tap rhythmically against his bicep- like he's nervous too.
"cool. I mean, it's a classic. peter parker's basically the king of awkward, so. . .fitting for us, right?"
you let out a soft laugh, glancing at him sideways. his blue eyes flicker to yours behind those glasses, and there's that tight-lipped smile again, the one that makes your stomach flip. "yeah, awkward solidarity."
the movie starts, filling the room with the familiar sounds of new york city chaos and web-slinging action. you try to relax, sinking back into the pillows, but every sense is hyper-aware of him.
the faint scent of his cologne mixes with the floral room freshener, and the bed feels smaller than it ever has. about ten minutes in, your phone buzzes on the nightstand-probably the pizza delivery app reminding you to order.
"oh, right. pizza," you say, reaching for it. "what do you like on yours? i'm good with anything, as long as it's not too spicy."
gojo tilts his head, thinking. "pepperoni and extra cheese? classic, like the movie." he grins, and you feel a spark of warmth at how easy this feels, despite the butterflies rioting in your gut.
you place the order- two mediums, just in case- and set a timer for delivery. as the movie plays on, you both comment here and there: him geeking out over the fight scenes, you laughing at peter's fumbling attempts at flirting.
it's comfortable, almost too comfortable, until about halfway through when a particularly intense scene has you both leaning forward. your hand brushes his accidentally as you reach for a pillow to hug against your chest.
"sorry," you murmur, pulling back quickly, but he doesn't move away. instead, his pinky finger hooks lightly around yours, tentative, like he's testing the waters.
"it's okay," he says softly, his voice lower than before. his eyes aren't on the screen anymore- they're on you. the room feels warmer, the movie fading into background noise as your heart hammers. "hey. . .can I ask something?"
you swallow, nodding. "yeah?"
he hesitates, his adam's apple bobbing. "this is. . .kinda my first date. like, ever. is it lame if i say i'm nervous?"
your breath catches. shoko was right- he's just as inexperienced as you. it eases something in your chest, knowing you weren't alone in your bundle of nerves- making the confession tumble out. "no, not lame. it's my first too. and. . .yeah, i'm nervous, too."
his eyes soften, that crooked smile returning. "good. i mean- not good you're nervous, but. . .makes me feel less like an idiot." he shifts closer, the gap between you closing until your thighs touch.
his hand fully entwines with yours now, warm and a little clammy. "you look really nice, by the way. in your pajamas. i mean, not that you don't always, but.."
you feel the heat rush to your face, but you manage a shy smile. "thanks. you do too. the spider-man look suits you."
he chuckles, but it's breathy, charged. the movie's forgotten now as he leans in, his free hand coming up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch lingers, thumb brushing your cheek. "can i. . .kiss you?"
your nod is immediate, whisper-soft. "y-yeah."
he closes the distance slowly, like he's afraid you'll vanish, his lips meeting yours in a tentative press. it's soft at first- awkward angles and hesitant pressure, but when you tilt your head, and it clicks.
his mouth moves against yours, warm and sweet, tasting faintly of mint. your hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart mirroring yours. he deepens the kiss, a small sigh escaping him as his fingers thread into your hair.
when you pull back for air, his glasses are slightly fogged, and you both laugh nervously. "that was. . .wow," he mutters, forehead resting against yours.
"yeah," you agree, breathless. the pizza delivery knocks at the door then, interrupting the moment before you can say anything else, jolting you both apart.
you scramble up to grab it, paying quickly before setting the boxes on your desk and grabbing your disposable plates, but food suddenly seems secondary as you return to the bed, the tension thicker now.
you eat propped up against the pillows, the movie still playing, but your eyes keep drifting to each other. halfway through your slices, he sets his down and turns to you fully. "i. . .don't want to rush anything, but being here with you. . .it feels right. right?"
your pulse races, shoko's words echoing in your mind, but this feels natural, not forced. "it is. i-i'm not opposed to anything." you whisper.
he kisses you again, more confident this time, guiding you back against the pillows. his hands roam tentatively- over your arms, your sides, down your thigh- until one slips under your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare stomach.
you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls back, eyes searching yours. "is this alright?"
"yeah," you whisper, arching further into his touch. "it's okay"
he explores slowly, pushing your shirt up inch by inch, exposing skin to cool air and his warm gaze. when the fabric bunches under your arms, he pauses, waiting silently for your okay.
you nod, and he helps you tug it off completely, then your bra, his breath catching audibly as your breasts are bared.
"you're. . .beautiful," he breathes, almost reverent.
his hands hover for a second before he cups one gently, thumb brushing over the nipple. it pebbles instantly under his touch, and you bite your lip to stifle a whimper.
he leans down, kissing along your collarbone, then lower, until his lips close around the sensitive peak. his tongue flicks experimentally, and when you moan softly, threading fingers into his fluffy white hair, he grows bolder- sucking lightly, rolling the bud between his lips, switching to the other side with the same careful attention.
your back arches off the bed, hips shifting restlessly. heat pools low in your belly, slickness gathering between your thighs.
he notices, pulling back with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. "can i. . .go lower?" his voice is husky, unsure but eager.
"please," you breathe, your nerves suddenly not even a thought in your mind.
he kisses a slow trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel, making you giggle despite the tension. his fingers hook into the waistband of your sleep shorts and lace underwear, tugging them down together when you lift your hips to help.
he settles between your spread thighs, eyes wide as he takes you in.
"i've... never done this," he admits quietly, almost embarrassed. "but I want to make you feel good. tell me what you like."
"it's okay," you assure him, though your own nerves are buzzing. "just. . .go slow. and maybe start with kissing there first?"
he nods, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, working his mouth inward. his breath ghosts over your cunt making you shiver. then his tongue darts out- tentative, flat, licking a broad stripe from entrance to your clit.
you jolt at the sensation, a sharp gasp escaping making him freeze.
"too much?" he asks, voice muffled against your skin.
"no no- good. really good. just. . .focus on the top part. the little- " your words cut off into a whine as he obeys, tongue circling your clit experimentally.
he finds a rhythm quickly, lapping in soft, steady strokes, then sucking gently when your hips buck. one hand grips your thigh to hold you open, the other slides up to lace fingers with yours, squeezing when you moan his name.
"satoru-" you gasp, free hand tugging his hair harder. he hums in response, the vibration sending sparks up your spine.
he experiments- flicking his tongue faster, then slow drags, pressing the flat of his tongue and letting you grind against it. your thighs start to tremble, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.
"i- i'm close-" you manage, voice breaking.
he doesn't stop, doesn't pull away. instead he sucks harder, tongue working relentless circles until the coil snaps.
you come with a choked cry, back bowing off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as waves crash through you. he works you through it, gentling his touch only when you start to whimper from overstimulation, kissing softly up your mound, your stomach, until he's hovering over you again.
"that was. . .incredible," you pant, pulling him down for a messy, desperate kiss. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you want him more.
he groans into your mouth, hips rocking instinctively against your thigh. you feel how hard he is through his pants- thick, insistent. your hand slides down, palming him through the fabric. He hisses, hips jerking.
"your turn?" you whisper against his lips.
he shakes his head, breathless. "only if you want. i don't have. . .protection, though."
you bite your lip, reaching over to the nightstand drawer. "shoko. . .insisted i keep some." you pull out a condom, tearing the packet with slightly trembling fingers. "she told me even the nerds and the shys have sex.. so"
his eyes widen, then soften with something like awe. "you're sure?"
"positive."
you help him out of his pants and boxers, breath catching at the sight- long and thick, flushed like dark cherries at the tip, already leaking. he watches you with wide eyes as you roll the condom down his length, your touch making him twitch and bite his lip hard.
he positions himself between your legs again, one hand braced beside your head, the other guiding himself to your entrance. he rubs the head along your folds, coating himself in your slick, both of you gasping at the contact.
"tell me to stop if it hurts," he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours.
you nod, hands on his shoulders. he pushes in slowly- inch by careful inch. the stretch burns at first, a deep pressure that makes you tense. he freezes immediately.
"you okay?" his voice is strained, every muscle locked to hold still.
"yeah- just. . .give me a second." you breathe through it, relaxing second by second. when the sting fades to a dull ache, you nod. "okay. move."
he exhales shakily and rocks forward, shallow thrusts at first, letting you adjust. it's clumsy- his rhythm uneven, hips stuttering when you clench around him- but the friction builds heat quickly.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans, low and wrecked.
"fuck- you feel. . .so good," he rasps, burying his face in your neck. his thrusts grow steadier, harder, the bed creaking under the motion. you meet him halfway, rolling your hips, nails dragging down his back.
"satoru- harder," you plead through moans and he obeys, snapping his hips with more force. "please"
the angle shifts, hitting that spongy spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. you cry out, and he angles there again, again, chasing the sound.
one hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy circles. the dual sensation is overwhelming- fullness, pressure, slick friction.
pleasure coiling tight again in your belly.
"i'm- gonna-" you gasp, walls fluttering around him and begging for release.
"come for me," he pleads, voice breaking. "please- i want to feel it."
you shatter again, harder this time, clenching rhythmically around him as you cry his name. He follows almost immediately- hips stuttering, a choked groan tearing from his throat as he spills into the condom, body trembling above you.
he collapses forward, careful not to crush you, both of you panting, sweat-slick and boneless.
after a long moment he pulls out gently, tying off the condom and tossing it into your mini can before gathering you against his chest.
"that was. . ." he starts, then laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "perfect. you're perfect."
you smile, curling into him, heart still racing. "happy valentine's, satoru."
"happy valentine's, pretty girl." he echoes, arms tightening around you like he never wants to let go.
the movie credits roll unnoticed in the background, the night stretching warm and quiet ahead of you both.
husband!gojo edges you with your own rose toy! mdni ⟢
"a one time thing, huh?" satoru quips devilishly, "but baby, don't you happen to own a rose toy?"
your blood runs cold. "how the actual fuck do you—?"
"please," he scoffs, "you think I don't know every inch of this apartment? every little secret?" he sits up slowly, his usual confidence reasserting itself. "I've seen that pretty pink rose tucked away in your nightstand."
"that's different," you protest quickly, but your voice lacks conviction.
"is it?" he tilts his head, white hair falling across his forehead as those brilliant blue eyes study you with predatory interest. "you just edged me mercilessly with my toy. seems only fair I return the favor, don’t ya think?"
you watch, frozen, as he disappears into your bedroom. the sound of a drawer opening makes your stomach flip. when he returns, he holds the rose-shaped toy in all its glory, its silicone petals closed in a deceptively innocent bud. the sight of it in his large hand makes something clench low in your belly.
"this isn't—you can't just—" you stammer, but he’s already climbing back onto the bed.
"can't I?" he settles beside you, one hand coming to rest on your thigh. "you made the rules, baby. toys instead of the real thing deserve punishment, right? and unless I'm mistaken..." his fingers trail up your leg, "you've used this plenty of times when you could have just asked me."
guilt flickers through you because he was right. how many nights had you reached for that toy instead of waking him, telling yourself he was tired, that you didn't want to bother him?
"well, I didn't think you'd mind," you counter weakly.
"oh, I don't mind," gojo assures you with a smile. his hand slides higher, pushing up the hem of your shirt. "but fair is fair. you taught me a lesson. now let me teach you one." his fingers find the waistband of your pants. "off. now."
with trembling hands, you shimmy out of your pants and underwear, all too aware of the hungry look blazing in your lover’s eyes.
"beautiful," he murmurs reverently. "now lie back. you know the drill baby, legs spread."
you obey, your heart hammering against your ribs. the power dynamic has completely flipped, and the vulnerability of it makes your skin flush hot. gojo positions himself between your legs, the toy held loosely in one hand.
he quickly reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulling out two silky blindfolds. you shoot him a look of bewilderment, to which he simply flashes you a grin.
he holds up one of your wrists to the wooden bedpost, using the first blindfold to tie your wrist securely in place.
"this isn’t—" you start, but cut off with a strangled gasp as he presses a kiss to your thigh, teasingly close to where you were already getting wet.
"not what? not fair?" he laughs softly. "you're right. it's not. but you started this game." his free hand strokes up your other thigh, thumbs brushing up so close to your pussy that you can’t help the small whimper that escapes. "now let's see how well you play."
he makes quick work of tying up your other wrist above your head, leaving you completely and utterly accessible to his whims.
he turns on the toy, and the soft whirring sound fills the room. the rose's petals open slightly, revealing the suction mechanism inside. you'd felt it dozens of times before, knew exactly what it could do, but somehow having satoru control it made it ten times different. and made you ten times wetter.
"I've done my research on these," he says conversationally, as if discussing the weather and not your impeding edge torture. "suction and vibration combined. designed specifically for your clit. supposed to be... overwhelming, right?" he brings it closer, so that you can feel the air pulsing from it. "well, I wanna see for myself."
"satoru, wait—" but your words stutter in a sharp cry as he presses the toy against you.
the sensation is immediate and intense. the silicone petals seal around your clit, creating a maddening suction that pulls at the sensitive bundle of nerves. your back arches off the bed, hands fisting in the pillows.
"oh.. oh fuck," you gasp.
"good?" he asks, though he clearly knows the answer. he adjusts the angle slightly, and the sensation intensifies. "you know, when you were using my toy on me, you were so controlled, so methodical." he increases the suction, and your hips buck involuntarily. "but I think I prefer a more... exploratory approach."
he wasn't lying. where you had established a rhythm, gojo seemed content to experiment—changing the intensity, shifting the angle, pulling the toy away only to press it back in a slightly different position. each variation sent new sparks of pleasure through you, never letting you adjust or anticipate.
"look at you," he murmurs, his free hand sliding up your stomach, pushing your shirt higher. "already trembling, how long has it been since you used this, hmm? last night? this morning?"
you couldn't answer, couldn't form any coherent sounds as he increases the vibration. the suction pulses rhythmically, and you could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast.
"I bet y’thought about me, right?" gojo continues, his voice dropping lower. "betcha imagined it was my mouth on you instead of this toy." he leans down, his breath hot against your inner thigh. "were you right? does it feel like my tongue?"
"no," you manage to gasp out. "d-different—it's different—"
"better or worse?"
you couldn't answer that, wouldn't give him the satisfaction, but your silence speaks volumes. the toy was intense, overwhelming, but it lacked his tongue’s warmth, his fingers’ skill, the way he’s learned your body's responses over years of making love to you.
gojo seems to understand. "that's what I thought."
he pulls the toy away suddenly, and you nearly sob at the loss of stimulation. your clit throbs, swollen and sensitive, your orgasm retreating just out of reach.
"please," you whimper before you could stop yourself.
"please what?" he traces patterns on your inner thigh with his fingers, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most. "please let you come? but we've barely started, sweetheart. you edged me at least three times. seems only fair I do the same to you."
"satoru—"
"besides," he interrupts, bringing the toy back but not quite touching you with it, letting you feel just the vibrations in the air, "you haven't admitted it yet. haven't told me what I want to hear."
"I don't—" you start, but he presses the toy against you again, harder this time, and your words dissolve into a scream.
this time he was less playful, more focused. he finds the angle that make your legs shake and holds it there, the suction and vibration doubling into something you could only describe as heaven and hell combined. you can feel yourself climbing fast, pleasure coiling tight in your cunt.
"that's it," gojo encourages, his voice rough. "let me see you fall apart. show me what this toy does to you. show me what I do to you."
you’re so close, right on the edge, your whole body tensing as your orgasm approaches. just a few more seconds, just a little more—
he pulls away again.
"fuck!" the word tears from your throat desperately. your hips lift, seeking the stimulation that had vanished, but gojo holds the toy just out of reach.
"aw, were you close?" his tone mockingly sympathetic. "that's too bad. maybe if you asked nicely..."
"fuck you," you seethe, and he laughs.
"there's my girl. still got some fight in you." he trails his fingers through your wetness, and you gasp at the contact. "god, you're soaked. this toy really does work wonders, huh?" he circles your clit with his thumb, feather-light, and you whimper. "but I bet I could make you wetter. make you come harder."
"youre jealous of a fucking toy?" you challenge, voice wobbly “you think you could make me cum harder? fucking prove it then,”
his eyes flash. "careful what you wish for."
the toy returns, but this time he combines it with his fingers, sliding two inside you while the rose works your clit. the dual sensation is devastating. you cry out, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
"there we go," he murmurs, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "this is what you need, isn't it? not some toy. me. my fingers. my attention."
you couldn't deny it, couldn't think past the overwhelming pleasure. the toy's suction pulses in rhythm with his fingers, and you were climbing again, faster this time, higher.
"say it," gojo demands again, his voice rough with his own renewed arousal. you could see his cock hardening again, responding to your desperation. "tell me you need me."
"I—" you gasp, fighting it even as your body betrays you, clenching around his fingers. "I can't—"
"yes, you can." he increases the toy's intensity, and you nearly scream. "say it, baby. tell me this toy isn't enough. tell me you need me."
you’re right there, balanced on a blade’s edge, your entire body shakes with the need for release. but he holds you there, keeping you suspended in that agonizing space between frustration and satisfaction. but your body could only handle so much for so long..
"please," you sob. "please, satoru, I need—"
"what do you need?"
"you!" the word bursts from you, raw and honest. "I need you, satoru. fuck. please…"
"good girl," he breathes, and finally—finally—he lets you have it.
the orgasm hits you like an earthquake, crashing over you with devastating force. you buck up into him, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure whites out your vision. satoru doesn’t let up, the toy and his fingers moving in perfect synchronization, drawing out every wave until you were shaking and oversensitive, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
only then does he remove the toy, turning it off and setting it aside. his fingers gentle inside you, slowly withdrawing as you trembled through the aftershocks.
he brings up his slick fingers and dips them into his mouth, tasting the evidence of your release
"what the fuck," you breathe, throwing an arm over your face.
"mhm" gojo hums, and you could hear the satisfaction in his smut voice. "see what it feels like?" he stretches out beside you, pulling you against his chest. "though, i can’t really tell which position turned me on more"
you can’t help the weak laugh that escapes. "you're such a freak."
"maybe. but you know I’m always available to you." he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’d undergo any freaky kinky position you’d wanna put me in."
"wanna test that thought?" you suggest, reaching down to wrap your hand around him.
gojo groans, his hips pushing into your grip. "fuck yes. but this time—" he rolls, pinning you beneath him, "—no toys. just us. because as fun as that was, I'd much rather make you come with my cock instead of some silicone."
"just us," you agree, and pull him down into another kiss.
a/n: lord have mercy on the poor soul who happens to stumble upon all the rose toy related research in my google history..
PreBattle!Gojo x Fem!Reader
Summary Death doesn't discriminate between the sinner and the saint; it takes, and it takes, and it takes. And death has a strange way of making people feel the tremendous guilt of every missed opportunity, the unspoken conversations they could've had that could've changed their lives, could've prevented this heavy drag on their heart. You just wish you could've spoken the unspoken conversation you've held in for decades to Satoru before he left.
Tags Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Satoru Gojo's death, Guilt, Could've been something more, Just friends, Two people in denial of love
Word count 2.7k
News spread fast, especially with the one and only Satoru Gojo is facing the strongest sorcerer of history today. He was just released from the prison realm for not long, and his stupid ass is, of course, already taking on ridiculous missions. And this time, you might not see him again.
December 24, 2018. You thread that date. It was the same day Suguru had died, and to imagine Satoru possibly dying on the same day, leaving just Shoko and you out of your guy’s group alive. You guys watched your unbiological family dying one by one. Some body unable to return to host a funeral, to see their face one last time.
You couldn’t bear to look at him when you found out about his battle. You were there for his unsealing, and that was it. Not a single word was exchanged about what happened in Shibuya, nor were they seen physically since November 20, 2018.
That was broken, however, today, December 24, 2018. Everyone was getting ready to surveil Gojo’s battle, Utahime and Gakuganji helping him for the best-case scenario.
While everybody is fussing over him, like always, meeting with the other first, he went over to the place you were staying until this shit hole is over. He found you smoking a cigarette, looking out into the empty city on the balcony.
“Yuck. It stinks.” He interrupted the silent stress-smoke you were having. “Smoking is bad for you, chu know?”
You hit the cigar, not bothering to turn around and blow the white smoke. “That’s why I smoke it, Captain Obvious.” You take another drag. “Shouldn’t you be with the others?”
He shifts to the railing, resting next to you. “I should but…” He drifts his blue eyes onto you, letting the silence tug the string between y’all. “But I want to tease them and show up late, then I’ll pop out of nowhere and surprise them.”
A short, humorless sound escaped you as you gave a slow shake of disapproval. “Always an attention grabber even in situations like this.” You tipped the edge of your cigar, letting the ashes fall. “Don’t know how your students and the higher-ups put up with you.”
“Uh, because I’m the strongest dude.” He flexed his huge biceps. “Look, I was trapped for twenty days and I’m still ripped.”
You dipped your head. “Of course you are, because you’re Satoru fucking Gojo.” You drag one last smoke from the stick before dropping it down sixty-feet high from the ground. You twists your body, resting your elbow on the railing. “Mr. Perfect.”
“I know.” He flutters his white eyelashes.
You rolled your eyes. “Take a break, would you, Mr. Perfect?”
“Can’t take a break now when Japan needs me.” He told himself more than to you, his tone dropping to something softer.
“Hm.” You shrugged. “Sucks to be the strongest now, right?”
“I know you’re trying to hurt my ego and it’s not working.”
“Oh yeah?” You cocked a snarky smirk. “Then why are you making that sad puppy eyes right now?”
He blinked. “Am not!”
“You are.”
“Nope.”
“I have photographic memory. I will remember that face forever now.” You can’t help and laugh at his frustration. “You should do that face again in the mirror after the battle. You look like a little boy.”
“I wouldn’t be making that face cause I literally wasn’t making any puppy eyes!”
“If you say so.” The view reclaims your attention, some building’s light is still left open, making the place look a bit more lifeful than it is. As long as you’re ignoring the blood stains. “Are you nervous…Tofu…?”
“Nervous?” He thought about it. It doesn’t count if his heart beats a bit faster every time he’s with you, does it? Pretty sure that’s what nervousness does to a person. “No–pfft–why would I be nervous?”
“Cause you’re fighting Sukuna?” The soft wind flows through your hair. “In your student’s body?”
His mind wandered back to Megumi. “I already have a plan. No need to worry.”
“That never ends well.” You cracked.
“You’re so mean to me.” He whines. “Why don’t you go with the others to watch my once in a lifetime fight? Better than any movie ever made.”
“Cause this isn’t entertaining for me.” You searched for another cigarette in your pocket. “Usually I prefer cgi so I can remind myself that no one is hurt.” You rested the cigar between your lips and lit up the end.
“What? You think I’m a little pussy boy?” He snorts.
“Perhaps.”
He scrunched his nose. “Can’t believe Utahime, the person who hates me most is going to be by my side when I face Sukuna and you’re not going to. My second best friend.”
You guys were never just best friends. “At least you’re self-aware.”
“Hey.” He playfully smacked the railing. “Shoko is going to be there as well! Everyone, even people I’ve never met before but you!”
You pinched the cigar between your fingers and pulled it away from your face. “Is this an invitation for me to see if you’re going to see your possible last breath?” You seek a peek at him. “On the same day where Suguru takes his last breath? Are you serious right now?”
The mention of Suguru triggered something in him. “Don’t mention Suguru. He have nothing to do with this–”
“Yes, he does, Satoru.” You tapped your cigar. “You arranged this fight on the exact date of his death. And I just don’t understand… Does your heart not ache every time it’s December twenty-four? Cause last time I checked, you were his best, best friend and so was he to you.”
“Y/n–”
You threw the barely used cigar away and creeped inside the apartment. You just can’t share the same air as him right now. Why does he have to smell like candy all the time? It drives you insane.
He trailed behind you. “Y/n.”
You swing open the fridge and yanked the bottles of cold beers. “Please, stop saying my name like that.” You popped open the cap and chugged the beer down your throat.
“What is wrong with you?” He stood a few feet away from you, his expression twisted into something you can’t explain. “Suguru had it coming! We both knew that so stop acting like he didn’t deserve his fate!”
“And what if your fate ends up like his?” You wiped your lips. “What if your last moment on Earth is taken from the very hands you cared for?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n.” He closed the distance between you guys. “I won’t end up like him.”
“You don’t know that, Satoru.” You sighed and sipped on the beer. “Fate has its strange way around us. Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints. You should know that already.”
“I won’t die. I promise.” A heaviness suddenly washed over you guys. Sukuna’s curse energy is truly remarkable like all the ancient sources said.
Even if he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t stay any longer. “Stay here. I’ll come back and prove you wrong.” He heads for the door.
When he held the doorknob, you weren’t sure if this will be the last time you’re going to see him alive and well again. You wanted to just spill everything out just in case he doesn’t make it. Tell him how you feel, on how you want his lips against yours right now to calm you down. To signal your brain that everything is okay despite your heart.
“Satoru–” You called out.
He turned.
Surely he’ll make it, right…? Utahime is helping him…Maybe you’re just overthinking it because of Suguru's death. You’ll tell him afterward. “I hate people who break their promises.” You leaned against the counter.
He flashed his stupid smile with all thirty-two teeth in view. “And you would kill them if they do, right?”
He still remembered what you told him decades ago. “Yes. Don’t forget. I’m serious.”
He paused at the door, his smile fading away. He looked doubtful. Something you rarely see in him.
“Y/n.”
You gave a small, expectant look.
“Uh…” He hesitated. “I just want to tell you in case something actually happens…”
Your heart raced but your face remained still. You’ve mastered not only reverse curse techniques throughout your life but also keep an unreadable expression on all time to mask your emotions.
“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “You can kill me afterwards, okay bye.” He shuts the door behind him.
It happened so all of the sudden, for a few seconds you just stared at the closed door in complete silence and confusion before giggling uncontrollably. God. May fate spare that man.
Turns out, fate does not have space to spare for Satoru. Or maybe you have jinxed it from mentioning Suguru and his soul had sent curses after him and your emotions.
Satoru’s severed body lay on the operating table. The same blue eyes with sparks like the stars just half an hour ago are now lifeless. Looking into his eyes now feels alienated. It’s the same eyeball, yet so different.
You and Shoko manage to reattach his body while Yuta lays on the operating table right next to the very same man who saved his life. There’s no time to waste on tears.
“We’ve finished suturing Gojo’s body. Once you transferred yourself, use reverse curse technique at maximum to apply the finishing touches.” Shoko explained to Yuta.
While you lingered off to the side, watching the man you loved since you were fourteen lie there without a trace of motion. He died without knowing your love for him. And you never got to know if he loved you back as well.
You watched Yuta transfer his brain to Satoru’s corpse. His body started to twitch and slowly gain consciousness.
“It’s just me and you left.” Shoko said to you.
You tilt your head to rest on her shoulder while you guys watch Yuta adapt to the new body. “Cigarette break after this?”
She curled her lips. “How can I say no to that?”
“You know…” You sighed. “He visited me beforehand and said if he dies, he’d let me kill him.”
“Just to your luck, you can kill him right now again.” She chuckled.
You pout. “Yeah. But it’s not the same.” His corpse sat up. “I want *him to feel it. Not this poor kid.”
“True.” Shoko nods her head in approval. “You can buy a new face and body but can’t buy a personality.”
“Exactly.”
A few months after the culling game, after hundreds of hours of stitching, healing, and taking care of dead bodies, you and Shoko were ready to be off duty for the next few months as recovery. It’s hard to be the only primary doctors.
It was summer, and in your high-rise loft in Tokyo, it’s rare for someone to personally deliver mails to you cause usually they just leave it at the front desk, that’s if they even let them through.
You wore a tiny tank and mini shorts despite the AC blasting while munching on a popsicle when you opened the door.
All of Gojo students stand before you, each with a small gift.
“Guys?” You smiled warmly. These kids. “What are you guys doing here? It’s really hot out.”
“I know.” Megumi spoke first. “They were persistent to do it at this time and this day. The hottest day of the year.”
Yuji butts in. “Don’t mind him, Ms. y/n!” He extended his arm, a little cute baggy. “This is a thank you gift for working so hard on us! We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and Ms. Ieiri!”
The rest did the same. In total you’ve gotten seven goody bags though there’s only six of them.
“One of them is from Gojo-sensei.” Yuta explained before you ask. “He prepared little gifts for each of us and he left a lot for you. Especially his letters.”
“Letters?” You glanced through each bag. “How thoughtful of him.”
“Well.” A trace of annoyance crossed Maki’s face. “Some may not be so thoughtful because the ones we received are short and brief.”
You laughed. “Sounds just like him.”
“But he left a lot of thick letters for you.” Nobara added. “And expensive stuff.”
“Salmon.” Inumaki just have to add in.
“Well, thank you guys so much for these!” You continued. “You guys want to come inside?”
“No…it’s okay we still have places to be.” Yuta explained.
“Come on, at least let me give you guys ice cream to cool off.” You already reached your fridge when you finished your sentence. “You guys look like wet tomatoes.” You came back to the door with six different kinds of ice cream.
“Thank you so much, Ms. y/n.” They said unison as they picked out the flavor they wanted.
“No problem, kiddos.” You rest your hand on the door. “Can’t believe your Gojo’s kids. Acts nothing like him.”
“You act nothing like him even though you’re close with him, Ms. y/n.” Yuji commented.
“Hm. True. Guess tree falls in the opposite direction from where it’s chopped. But anyway…” You digressed. “Get going and go home to hide in the AC!”
“Thank you, Ms. y/n for your hard work and these delicious ice creams!” They sounded like a concert choir all together.
You waved goodbye before closing the door. All the bags together hurt your hand.
You hopped over to your kitchen island and settled all the bags down. You went through each bag one by one, reading every letter the kids wrote for you with your expression revealing what you actually feel deep inside your heart. It wasn’t some boring and generic stuff like “thank you for your kindness.” Each of these letters contain some personal information about themselves, truly written from the bottom of their hearts. Especially with Inumaki. This boy truly has a lot to write with so little to say.
Then you moved onto the last bag. Using your context clues, you knew it’s Gojo’s. You reached inside…
The first thing you felt wasn’t letters, but candies. You pulled a grasp of them out, and every single one of them is blueberry flavored hi-chew. A lump formed in your throat. You guys bonded over y’all’s favorite hi-chew flavor being blueberry fifteen years ago. The first day you guys met in Jujutsu high during y’all’s first year. He still remembers. He never forgot.
Then you moved onto his letters. Nobara wasn’t lying about thick letters, and not only that, thirty-five letters. Each one every single day since he was unsealed. Each one jotting down his actual emotions. On day thirty-four, just a day for his battle, he confessed he loves you. Not in a best friend way, rather in a way he wants to call you candy and smother honey all over your lips and lick them off.
Despite his confession being extremely weird and detailed, trickles of tears fall from your eyes and onto the bottom corner of the paper where he drew a heart that looks like a penis. It’s so aromantic but romantic at the same time cause he’s not trying hard to be a lovey dovey. He’s just…him. And that’s worth more than any amount of “I love you”.
With tears still falling from your eyes, you grabbed a blank piece of paper and replied to each letter you received. Starting off with Satoru knowing well he won’t ever get to read your letters.
My dearest Satoru (Tofu) Gojo,
I’ve received your letters months after your death. After fifteen years of subtle hints, I can’t believe you confessed like this. I know you’ll never see this letter, but I, nonetheless, must write it down cause I still love you too much. Perhaps it's the unspoken possibilities we had that made this hurt much more. But I know the final act of love is letting go. So count this as my farewell letter to you…
Author's Note There's no way Steam needs ten days to process my $21.67 purchase. Give me my fucking money back. This is a repost!! You guys seemed to enjoy fluff over my angsts, but I'm a true angst to the heart
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ satoru spirals with jealousy, realizes he’s in love with you, and ends up desperately confessing before wrecking you all night to prove you’re his.
✿ ◞◟) gojo satoru 𝓍 female!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, fwb to lovers, jealousy, pussy eating, fingering, oral (f! receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, heavy overstimulation, desperate & needy satoru, marking, crying during sex, praise kink implied, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie.
the thing about gojo satoru was that he’d never had to work for much of anything in his life.
it wasn’t arrogance, well… not exactly — or maybe it was, but it was the kind of arrogance that came from being six-foot-three with a face that made people stop mid-sentence, from having a laugh that filled up whatever room he was in, from being the kind of person who could walk into any party and leave with whoever he wanted without ever having to try.
and satoru knew what he looked like; he knew what he did to people. and somewhere along the way, he’d learned that keeping things light, keeping things easy, was the only way to make sure nothing ever got messy enough to hurt.
that was why, freshman year, when he’d first pulled you aside after a night of too many drinks and way too much static between you both, he’d laid it out plain and simple;
no feelings. no complications. just having fun.
of course, you’d agreed; you’d shrugged, even, like it was nothing, and something about that had made satoru like you even more. there was no whiplash, no pining, simply two young people who happened to fit together really, really well, and who were smart enough not to ruin it by wanting more.
and it had worked, for three whole years, it had worked.
you were satoru’s go-to, his reliable, the only person he texted at midnight with nothing but an address or a you up? and you’d show up, or he’d show up, and there was no pretense, no performance, just the two of you, falling into each other like it was the easiest thing in the world.
satoru knew by heart the pretty little sounds you made when you were trying to stay quiet, satoru knew the way your hands fisted in his sheets when he hit the right spot, satoru knew the way you’d shove at his chest afterward, laughing, telling him to go get a towel, you menace.
and he knew — he knew — that there was no one else.
not because you’d ever promised each other anything; you hadn’t, that was the whole point. but somewhere along the way, it had just become… understood. you were his. not in a way that required words, but in a way that was simply true.
so when nanami mentioned, so casually it almost didn’t register, that he’d seen you at that café on fourth street with some guy from the business school — tall, dark hair, looked like he was trying way too hard — gojo didn’t react.
really, he didn’t react.
he just stood there in the doorway of nanami’s apartment, a red solo cup dangling from his fingers, and blinked.
“what?”
“your friend,” nanami said, unbothered, because nanami was always unbothered, which was probably why gojo kept him around. “the one you’re always with. she was on a date.”
a date?
the word landed somewhere in satoru’s chest like a stone dropped into still water, and the ripples spread outward before he could stop them.
“it wasn’t a date,” he heard himself say, and even he didn’t believe it at all.
nanami just raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his beer.
“she was laughing at his jokes. he paid. and she let him walk her to her door.”
satoru’s jaw tightened.
he didn’t even ask how the hell nanami knew about the door part. actually, he didn’t ask anything. he just stood there for a beat too long, then laughed — a short, sharp sound that didn’t reach his eyes — and said something dismissive, something about good for her, and walked away.
but the feeling didn’t go away.
it sat in satoru’s chest for the rest of the night, heavy and hot, and by the time he got back to his own apartment, he’d convinced himself it was just… surprise. yeah, that was all. you’d never once mentioned going on a date. you’d never mentioned anyone else. and okay, fine, you didn’t owe him that, you didn’t owe him anything, but—
but…
satoru woke up the next morning with that same weight pressing down on him, and it didn’t lift; not when he went to class, not when he sat through a lecture he didn’t hear a word of, not when he pulled out his phone and stared at your name in his messages; his thumb hovering over the keyboard, typing and deleting and typing again.
hey, you free tonight?
what are you doing later?
heard you went on a date???
satoru deleted that last one before he could send it.
it sounded crazy. it sounded jealous. and gojo satoru didn’t get jealous; no, gojo satoru was the one who’d set the rules in the first place. gojo satoru didn’t do complications.
so why did it feel like his chest was caving in?
he told himself he wasn’t going to say anything. he told himself it was none of his business. he told himself that whatever you did, whoever you saw, it didn’t matter, because you weren’t his, and that was exactly how he’d wanted it.
but, three days later, satoru saw you walking across campus.
you were smiling. not at him — you were smiling at your phone, your thumbs moving fast over the screen, your cheeks a little pink. and you were dressed differently, too. not in the sweats and oversized hoodie you wore when you came over to his place, but in a pretty skirt. a pretty skirt. with your legs bare and your hair down and something soft and open about your face that satoru had never seen before.
or maybe he had, maybe he just hadn’t been looking.
oh.
the realization hit him like a freight train.
satoru was in love with you.
not the casual, comfortable fondness he’d let himself feel. not the you’re fun, you’re hot, we work well together kind of affection, but something real. something terrifying, something that had been growing in the spaces satoru purposely hadn’t been paying attention to, rooting itself deep, and now it was way too late to pull it out.
satoru stood there in the middle of the quad, simply watching you walk away, and for the first time in his life, gojo satoru had no idea what to do.
he spent the next two days trying to talk himself out of it.
it was just habit, he told himself. you’d been around for three years, of course he’d miss you if you weren’t there anymore. it didn’t mean anything. it was just—
but every time he closed his eyes, he saw you in that skirt, smiling at your phone, laughing at some other guy’s jokes.
and the thought of someone else’s hands on you, someone else’s mouth, someone else waking up next to you in the morning, made something in him go white-hot and feral.
satoru couldn’t eat, he couldn’t even sleep; the boy was pacing his apartment like a caged animal, running his hands through his soft white hair until it stuck up in every weird direction, and when his phone buzzed — your name lighting up the screen — he nearly dropped it.
hi, you okay? haven’t heard from you in a few days.
satoru stared at it.
and then, before he could think better of it, he was grabbing his keys and walking out the door.
satoru didn’t knock.
actually, he never knocked — you’d given him a key ages ago, back when it was easier than you having to get up and let him in at 2am — but this time, when he pushed the door open, there was nothing easy about it.
you were sitting on your couch, a textbook open on your lap, a pen prettily tucked behind your ear. your hair was up in a messy bun, and you were wearing those ridiculous fuzzy socks you loved so much, and you looked so normal, so you, that his chest physically ached.
“satoru?”
you looked up, eyebrows drawing together. your eyes swept over him — at the wild hair, the dark circles under his blue eyes, the tension in his jaw — and something shifted in your expression. now there was concern, and confusion.
“what’s wrong? you look—”
“don’t go.”
the words roughly came out before satoru could stop them; cracked at the edges, not his voice at all.
you blinked. “what?”
satoru stood in the doorway, completely frozen, his hand still on the doorknob. he’d imagined this moment a hundred times in the past two days, and in every version, he was smooth, he was charming, he found the perfect words, the perfect smile, the perfect way to make this easy.
but that wasn’t what happened at all.
what happened was that satoru’s hands started shaking. what happened was that his voice cracked in the middle of your name. what happened was that he stood there, six-foot-three and undone, looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.
“i heard you went on a date.”
your mouth opened before closing again.
“how did you—”
“it doesn’t matter.”
satoru stepped forward, then stopped, like he wasn’t really sure he was allowed to come any closer. his hands were shoved in his pockets now, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was working, the way he couldn’t quite meet your eyes.
“just—don’t go on another one.”
“satoru…”
“i know,” he laughed, but it was hollow, nothing like the easy, carefree sound you were used to. “i know i don’t have the right to say that. i know what we are. i know i’m the one who said no feelings, no complications, no—”
satoru’s voice broke.
he stopped, slowly swallowed, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were bright, his usual arrogance stripped away until all that was left was something raw and desperate and so achingly human it made your chest tighten.
“don’t go,” he said again, softer this time. “please.”
you set your textbook aside slowly, your heart pounding.
you’d never seen satoru like this. hell, you’d never seen him anything less than composed, less than perfectly in control, and the sight of him right now — messy, shaking, his carefully constructed walls crumbling around him — made something twist in your stomach.
“satoru,” you said carefully. “what are you saying?”
he crossed the room in three long strides and dropped to his knees in front of the couch.
your breath caught.
satoru’s hands came up to rest on your knees, his fingers curling into the fabric of your sweatpants like he was holding on for dear life. he was looking up at you now, and there was nothing playful in his gaze, nothing teasing, just heat and fear and something that looked terrifyingly like love.
“i’ll do anything,” satoru said, and his voice was low, rough, cracking on the last syllable. “i’ll be whatever you want. whatever you need. just—just don’t—”
satoru couldn’t even finish the sentence.
his forehead dropped to your knee, and you felt the shudder that ran through him, felt the way his hands tightened, and your heart, your stupid, traitorous heart, was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.
“i’ll stop being an idiot,” he mumbled against your leg. “i’ll stop pretending i don’t—that i don’t—”
he lifted his head, and his eyes were wet.
gojo satoru, who literally never cried about anything, who laughed in the face of anything serious, who had spent three whole years keeping you at arm’s length so he wouldn’t have to feel this — was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“i love you,” he said, and the words came out broken, desperate, nothing like the smooth confession he’d probably imagined. “i love you, and i’m an idiot, and i know i don’t deserve to ask you for anything, but please. please. don’t go.”
you stared at him.
and then, before you could think, before you could second-guess or talk yourself out of it, you were leaning forward, cupping his face in your hands, and pulling him up.
satoru came easily, eagerly, his huge hands sliding up your thighs as he rose to his knees, then higher, until his face was level with yours. his breath was warm against your lips, his alluring eyes searching yours for something you weren’t sure you knew how to give.
“say something,” he whispered. “please. i’m losing my mind.”
you simply kissed him.
and this kiss was three years of pretending you didn’t want more, three years of biting your tongue and telling yourself it was fine, three years of loving him from a safe distance — all of it poured into one desperate, messy press of lips.
satoru made a sound against your mouth, something between a gasp and a groan, and then his hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, tilting your head back so he could kiss you deeper. his tongue slid against yours, and the taste of him, the feel of him — familiar and yet completely new, now that there was nothing held back — made your head spin.
“i really thought—” satoru broke the kiss, his forehead pressed to yours, his breathing ragged. “i thought you were going to—some other guy, and i really couldn’t—i couldn’t breathe, i couldn’t think—”
“there was no other guy,” you said, and you heard your own voice crack, heard the tears you hadn’t realized you were holding back. “i went on one date, and i spent the whole time wishing it was you.”
satoru’s hands tightened in your hair.
“say that again.”
“i wished it was you, satoru,” you whispered. “i’ve always wished it was you.”
the sound he made was almost pained, and his mouth found yours again, hungrier this time, and his huge hands slid down your body — your shoulders, your arms, your waist — like he was relearning every single inch of you, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.
“i’m sorry,” he breathed against your lips. “i’m sorry i was so stupid. i’m sorry i made you think—”
“satoru.”
“—that i didn’t want this. that i didn’t want you. because i do, i want you so much it scares me, i want—”
you kissed him quiet, and satoru completely melted into you, his weight pressing you back against the couch cushions, his body covering yours like he was trying to shield you from the rest of the world.
“show me,” you said, pulling back just enough to look at him.
satoru’s pupils were blown wide, his lips kiss-swollen, his hair a complete mess; he looked wrecked, he looked beautiful.
“show me how much you want me.”
his breath stuttered out of him.
“fuck,” satoru whispered.
and then the boy was kissing down your jaw, your neck, the hollow of your throat, his huge hands pushing up under your shirt, his palms flat against your stomach, your ribs, the undersides of your breasts.
“i’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said, and his voice was low, rough, and reverent. “i’m gonna make you forget anyone else ever existed. i’m gonna make you mine.”
satoru looked up at you then, still on his knees between your legs, his face flushed, his eyes dark, and there was nothing playful about him; just a man who’d spent three whole years running from something he should have been running toward, finally, finally done pretending.
“tell me you want that,” he said. “tell me you want me.”
you reached down, cupped his face in your hands, and pulled him up until his lips were a breath away from yours.
“i’ve always wanted you,” you said. “i was just waiting for you to catch up.”
he kissed you like a man drowning, and you let yourself fall.
satoru’s mouth was desperate, hungry, like he was trying to make up for three years of holding back in a single kiss. his hands were everywhere — your jaw, your neck, your shoulders, your waist — like he couldn’t decide where to touch first, like he needed to feel all of you at once or he’d forget how.
you kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space left between you. satoru’s weight pressed you into the couch cushions, and you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, or maybe that was yours, or maybe it was both of you, tangled up together and beating out of sync.
“need—” satoru gasped against your mouth, pulling back just far enough to breathe, and his voice was wrecked, barely there. “need you in your room. now.”
you didn’t have time to respond before he was pulling you up, his huge hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting you without apparent effort. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and his mouth was on yours again before you could even register that you were moving.
satoru didn’t break the kiss.
not when he stumbled slightly in the hallway, not when his shoulder bumped the doorframe, not when he slowly lowered your body onto your bed and followed you down, his body completely covering yours like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go for even a single second.
your back hit the mattress, and satoru was there, everywhere, his lips never leaving yours. his tongue slid against your lower lip, then into your mouth, slow and deep, and you moaned, your hands coming up to tangle in his white hair, pulling him closer even though there was nowhere left to go.
“satoru,” you breathed, and he made a sound; low, almost pained, against your mouth.
“say it again.”
“satoru—”
his hips pressed into yours, and you felt him then, already hard and so so so desperate through his jeans, and the way he shuddered when you instinctively rolled up to meet him sent a thrill through your entire body.
“fuck,” satoru whispered.
his lips trailed away from your mouth, down your jaw, your throat, the sensitive spot just below your ear.
“i’ve got you. i’ve got you, okay? just let me—”
satoru’s hands were shaking as he pushed up the hem of your shirt, his palms sliding against bare skin, and he pulled back just enough to look at you; and oh, his eyes were dark, pupils blown so wide there was barely any blue left.
“you have no idea,” he said, and his voice cracked. “how long i’ve wanted to do this. for real.”
you reached down, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and tugged it; satoru helped you pull it over his head, and then he was bare above you, with broad shoulders and lean muscle, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.
you let your hands trace down his collarbone, his chest, the lines of his abdomen, and he shivered under your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a second.
“you’re so pretty,” you said without thinking, and he let out a breathless laugh — the first real laugh you’d heard from him all night, soft and surprised and a little embarrassed.
“that’s supposed to be my line.”
satoru dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the hollow of your throat, then lower, his lips dragging down your sternum as his fingers found the hem of your shirt again. he pushed it up, slowly, uncovering you inch by inch, and when his mouth reached the lace of your bra, he paused.
his breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel him trembling again as he looked up at you through his lashes.
“can i?”
you nodded, not trusting your voice, and satoru smiled before hooking his fingers under the fabric and pulling it down.
satoru’s hands were so careful as he bared you, reverent almost, and the way he looked at you completely made your stomach flip; like you were something precious, something he couldn’t believe he got to touch.
“god,” the boy breathed, and then his mouth was on you, hot and wet and so perfect, his warm tongue circling your nipple before sucking gently.
your back arched off the bed, a gasp tearing out of you, and his hand came up to cup your other breast, his thumb brushing over the peak in slow, deliberate circles.
“satoru—”
“i know,” he murmured against your skin, switching to the other side, his teeth grazing lightly before his tongue soothed the sting. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.”
the words sent a rush of heat through you, pooling low in your belly, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, your thighs pressing together instinctively.
satoru must have noticed, because his hips rolled into the mattress, a soft groan escaping him, and his mouth started moving lower again; down your ribs, your stomach, your hipbone, his lips and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he paused at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers hooking into the elastic, and looked up at you.
“okay?”
well… you were pretty sure you’d never been more okay in your entire life.
“fuck, yes,” you said, and your voice came out breathless, desperate. “please.”
satoru’s eyes darkened.
he pulled your sweatpants down slowly, dragging them over your hips, your thighs, your knees, his knuckles brushing against your skin with every inch. when he reached your ankles, he tossed them aside, and then he was just staring at you — you, laid out beneath him in nothing but a pair of thin cotton panties that were definitely already soaked through.
satoru’s hands slid up your calves, your knees, the insides of your thighs, pushing them gently apart. you let him, spreading for him without hesitation, and the noise he made when he saw the dark spot on your underwear was almost animal.
“fuck,” he breathed. “you’re already so wet.”
your face burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed — not with the way he was looking at you, like you were something he’d been starving for.
satoru hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with the same agonizing slowness; you lifted your hips to help, and he slid them off, discarding them somewhere on the floor, and then—
then he was just looking at you. all of you. his gaze so intense it made your thighs twitch, made you want to close them, but satoru held them open, his hands firm on your knees.
“so pretty,” he said, echoing your words from earlier, and his voice was rough, reverent. “so pretty, and you’ve been right here the whole time, and i was too stupid to—”
he cut himself off, shaking his head, and then he was lowering himself, his shoulders spreading your thighs further apart, his breath hot against the inside of your leg.
“satoru—”
“i’m gonna take my time,” he said, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, just inches from where you needed him. “i’ve waited three years. i’m not rushing this.”
satoru pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, then another, then another; each one higher, closer, until you were squirming beneath him, your fingers twisting in the sheets, a whine building in your throat.
“please,” you gasped. “satoru, please—”
“tell me what you want.”
“you know what i want.”
satoru hummed against your skin, and you felt his smile, his lips curving against your thigh.
“i want to hear you say it.”
your face was burning, your heart pounding, your entire body pulled taut like a string about to snap.
“i want you to—” you swallowed, your voice dropping to barely a whisper. “i want you to taste me.”
satoru’s exhale was shaky, almost surprised, like even though he’d asked for it, hearing you say it hit him harder than he expected — even though it’s not the first time.
“yeah?” his voice was low, a little rough. “you want my mouth on you, baby?”
you nodded, unable to form words, and he made a guttural sound before finally, finally lowering his head.
the first touch of his tongue was so light you almost thought you’d imagined it; it was a slow, flat lick from your entrance to your clit, broad and warm and unhurried, and your hips jerked off the bed, a cry tearing out of you.
“god,” satoru breathed, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “you taste even better than before.”
he did it again, slower this time, dragging his tongue through your folds like he was savoring you, and your hand flew down to tangle in his white hair, holding him there.
he groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine, and his arms slid under your thighs, hooking over his shoulders, opening you up even more.
“stay still for me,” satoru murmured, and then his mouth was on you properly, his lips closing around your clit, his tongue circling in slow, deliberate strokes.
you couldn’t have stayed still even if you tried.
your hips rolled against satoru’s face, chasing the pressure, and he simply let you, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady enough for him to work. he sucked gently, then harder, then released with a soft pop that made your breath hitch, before diving back in.
“satoru—”
“i know,” he said against you, his voice muffled, and the vibration made you moan. “let go. i’ve got you.”
satoru’s tongue flattened against your clit, pressing down just right, and your vision went white at the edges, but then he pulled back, switching to something slower, softer, and you whined in protest.
“patience,” he said, and you could hear the smirk even if you couldn’t see his face. “i told you. i’m taking my time.”
he kissed your inner thigh again, then your other thigh, then back to the center, teasing you with the lightest flick of his tongue before pulling away again. you were shaking now, your thighs trembling against his shoulders, and he seemed to sense that you were at your limit, because he stopped playing.
satoru’s mouth covered you again, his tongue working your clit in tight, focused circles while one of his hands slid up your thigh, his fingers brushing against your entrance.
you were so wet that he slid inside without resistance — one finger, then two, curling up just right, and your back arched off the bed, a broken cry escaping your lips.
“there she is,” satoru murmured, his breath so warm against you. “there you go, baby. that’s it.”
his fingers moved slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, in and out, curling against that sweet little spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes.
you could feel yourself tightening around his long fingers, your climax building low and deep, and satoru must have felt it too, because his pace quickened, his tongue pressing harder, his fingers curling faster.
“come for me,” he said, his voice rough, desperate. “wanna taste it. wanna taste you when you fall apart.”
his mouth closed around your clit again, sucking gently, and his fingers pressed deeper, and the combination was too much, too perfect, too everything—
you shattered.
your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your hips bucking against satoru’s face, your hands fisting in his hair, a scream caught in your throat, but he didn’t stop; satoru kept licking, kept sucking, kept his fingers buried deep inside you, working you through it, drawing it out until you were gasping, trembling, completely undone.
and then, when you thought it was over, when you thought he’d finally let you breathe—
satoru didn’t stop.
his tongue was still moving, slower now, gentler, but still there, still circling, still pressing, and your overstimulated nerves lit up like fireworks, too much and not enough all at once.
“satoru,” you gasped, tugging at his hair. “satoru, i—”
he hummed against you, and the vibration made you whimper, your thighs trying to close around his head.
“shh,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. his chin was wet, his lips red and swollen, his eyes dark and half-lidded. he looked drunk. “i’m not done with you yet.”
“i can’t—”
“you can,” satoru lowered his mouth again, pressing a soft kiss to your clit that made you jolt. “you’re gonna give me one more. i know you can.”
his fingers started moving again, slow and deep, and his tongue went back to your clit, lighter this time, barely there, just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.
“you taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice muffled, and you could hear how much he meant it, could feel it in the way his hips were grinding into the mattress, desperate for friction he wasn’t giving himself. “i could stay here all night. i could eat you out until you forget your own name.”
your hands pushed weakly at his head, but he didn’t budge. if anything, he pressed closer, his tongue flattening against you, his fingers curling deeper.
“t-toru, please, it’s too much—”
“it’s not,” satoru said, and his voice was thick, almost reverent. “it’s not too much. you’re doing so well. you’re so good for me. just one more, okay? just one more, and i’ll stop.”
his thumb found your clit while his fingers kept working, rubbing slow circles that had you seeing stars, and you could feel the pressure building again, faster this time, sharper, too intense and too perfect and you couldn’t—
“that’s it,” he breathed. “that’s it, baby. let go. let go for me.”
your second orgasm hit before you could brace for it, ripping through you like a wave, and you did cry out — a broken, sobbing sound, your back arching off the bed, your hands shoving at his head, trying to push him away because it was too much, too much, too much—
but satoru didn’t move.
his mouth stayed on you, his tongue gentler now but still present, still tasting, still drawing out every last shudder until you were lying there, limp and trembling, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
only then did he lift his head.
satoru looked wrecked; his lips were slick, his chin wet, his hair a wild mess from your fingers. his chest was heaving, and when you looked down, you could see the obvious strain in his jeans, the way his hips were pressing into the mattress like he was trying to get any kind of friction.
but he was smiling, like he’d just been the one to come.
“hey,” he said, his voice rough, and he crawled up your body, his weight settling over you, his face hovering above yours.
satoru reached up, softly brushing the tears from your pink cheeks with his thumb, his expression tender in a way you’d never seen before.
“you okay?”
you couldn’t speak, so you just nodded, your breathing still uneven, your legs still shaking.
he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose.
“you were so good,” satoru murmured against your skin. “so perfect. tasted like heaven.”
you let out a shaky laugh, your hands coming up to rest on his chest; you could feel satoru’s heartbeat under your palms, racing as fast as yours.
“you’re insane,” you whispered.
satoru grinned — that familiar, cocky grin, but it was softer around the edges.
“yeah,” he said, his hips pressing into yours, letting you feel exactly how much he’d enjoyed himself. “but you like it.”
and you didn’t deny it.
you just pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him, tasting yourself on satoru’s lips, and felt him smile against your mouth.
“i’m not done with you yet,” the boy said when you finally broke apart, his forehead resting against yours. “but we’ve got all night. yeah?”
you smiled, your fingers tracing down his chest, over his stomach, to the waistband of his jeans.
“yeah,” you said. “all night.”
satoru’s grin softened into something warmer, something that made your chest ache in the best way ever.
he kissed you again — slower this time, deeper, like he was trying to pour every word he’d said tonight into the way his lips moved against yours. your fingers found the waistband of his jeans again, fumbling with the button, and for a moment he let you, his breath hitching when your knuckles brushed against the hardness straining beneath the denim.
but then satoru’s hand gently caught yours, his long fingers lacing through yours and pressing your palm flat against his stomach instead.
“wait,” he murmured against your lips. “wait.”
you blinked up at him, confused. “i thought—”
“i know what you thought,” his voice was low, rough, but there was a softness underneath it that made your stomach flip.
satoru brought your joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“and i love that you want to. but not tonight.”
“satoru—”
“tonight,” he said, releasing your hand only to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “you’re the one getting taken care of.”
you opened your mouth to protest — you really wanted to touch him, you wanted to make him feel as wrecked as he’d made you — but he simply shook his head, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“let me,” he said, and his voice cracked just slightly on the words. “please. i need to show you. i need to—” he paused, swallowing, his eyes searching yours. “i spent three years pretending i didn’t want this. pretending i didn’t love you. and i can’t—i don’t want to be selfish anymore. not with you.”
your throat tightened. “toru, you’re not—”
“let me do this,” he whispered. “let me love you the way i should’ve been loving you this whole time.”
you couldn’t argue with that; not when satoru was looking at you like that, like you were something so precious, something he was afraid to break. you nodded, your hand coming up to rest over his on your cheek.
“okay,” you breathed. “okay.”
the smile he gave you was radiant — not the cocky, practiced grin he wore for the rest of the world, but something real, something so raw.
and then satoru was kissing you again, and this kiss was different from all the others; it was way slower, and it was way deeper. his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that made your toes curl, his hands sliding down your sides, your hips, your thighs, relearning every curve.
when he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard. he sat up, kneeling between your legs, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as he reached for the button of his jeans.
satoru didn’t rush; his fingers worked the button open, then the zipper, and the sound of it seemed impossibly loud in the quiet of your room. the white haired boy pushed his jeans down his hips, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes dropped, couldn’t help the way your breath caught when you saw him — the thick length of him straining against his boxer briefs, a dark spot already forming at the tip.
“fuck,” you whispered.
you reached out, your fingers brushing against satoru’s, and helped him push them down.
he was — god. you’d seen him before, of course you had, three years of this arrangement meant you knew every single inch of him, but this was different. this was satoru, your satoru, kneeling above you with his heart in his throat and his cock now heavy against his stomach, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that really mattered.
you’d always known that satoru was big, but seeing him right now, flushed and leaking and so hard it had to be painful, made your mouth water.
“you’re staring,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, but there was a tremor underneath it.
“you’re worth staring at.”
satoru’s cheeks flushed — a pretty pink that crept up to the tips of his ears — and something warm unfurled in your chest. you reached for him, wanting to touch, wanting to wrap your hand around him and feel the weight of him, but he caught your wrist again, gentle but firm.
“i told you,” satoru said, lowering himself over you, his forearms bracketing your head, his hips settling between your thighs. “tonight’s about you.”
you could feel him then — the heat of him, the press of his cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you were still slick and sensitive from before.
your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking friction, and he let out a low groan, his forehead dropping to yours.
“so impatient,” he murmured, but there was no teasing in it, just wonder. “you have no idea what you do to me.”
satoru shifted his hips, and then he was there — the head of his cock sliding against your wet folds, nudging against your sensitive clit before dragging back down, coating himself in the wetness that was still there from when he’d had his mouth on you, and the sensation made you gasp, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders.
“satoru—”
“i know,” he breathed. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.”
he did it again; a slow roll of his hips that had his cock sliding against your entrance, but not entering, just teasing, just feeling. the friction was maddening, the heat of him searing against your most sensitive parts, and you could feel yourself clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you.
“please,” you gasped. “please, satoru, i need—”
“what do you need?” satoru’s voice was strained, his jaw tight, and you could see the effort it was taking him to hold back; his arms were trembling on either side of you, his abs tense, every line of his body drawn taut. “tell me.”
“you,” you said, and your voice cracked. “toru, i need you inside me. please.”
his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, a shudder running through him, and when he opened them again, they were dark, pupils blown so wide there was barely any blue left.
“yeah?” he reached down between you, his hand wrapping around his cock, and the sight of him — the way his fingers didn’t quite close around the girth of him, the way his knuckles brushed against your wetness — made your thighs tremble. “you want this? want me to fill you up?”
“yes. god—yes.”
satoru guided himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against you, and for a moment he just stayed there, not pushing in, just letting you feel the stretch of him. you were already so wet, already so ready, but he was so big that even the pressure of him made you gasp.
“breathe,” he whispered, and then he was pushing in.
slowly. oh, so slowly you could feel every inch of him; the way your body had to open up to take him, the way he had to pause halfway to let you adjust. his jaw was clenched, his eyes squeezed shut, and you could feel him shaking again with the effort of not just slamming into you.
“f-fuck,” satoru gritted out. “fuck, you’re so tight. you feel—” his voice broke, and he pressed his forehead against yours again, his breath coming in ragged pants. “you feel so good. so fucking good.”
he kept going, inch by inch, until finally — finally — his hips were flush against yours, and you were full, so full you could barely breathe, could barely think. satoru was buried inside you to the hilt, and the weight of him, the heat of him, the way he was stretching you so perfectly made your eyes water.
“okay?” he asked, and his voice was wrecked. “are you okay?”
you couldn’t speak properly, so you simply nodded, your hands sliding up into his soft white hair, pulling him down until your foreheads were touching.
“move,” you whispered. “please move.”
satoru pulled back slowly, the drag of him against your walls making you whimper, and then he pushed back in, just as slow, just as deliberate; the rhythm he set was unhurried, almost lazy, his hips rolling against yours in a way that made every nerve in your body light up.
“look at me,” he said, and you did, your eyes meeting his.
satoru’s face was flushed, his lips parted, his hair falling into his eyes; he looked so beautiful like this, undone, all his carefully constructed walls stripped away.
“i want to see your face when i make you cum.”
his pace picked up, just slightly, each thrust pressing him deeper inside you, harder, until you could literally feel him in your throat. satoru’s hands slid under your hips, tilting you up, changing the angle, and when he hit that sweet little spot inside you — that spot that made your vision go white — you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“there?” he asked, and there was a desperate edge to his voice. “is that the spot, baby?”
you couldn’t answer, hell, you couldn’t do anything but cling to him as he drove deep into you, each thrust hitting that same spot over and over again. satoru was kissing you everywhere now — your mouth, your jaw, your throat — his lips and teeth leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough. “so fucking beautiful. i can’t believe—” he thrust harder, and you moaned, your back arching off the bed. “i can’t believe i almost lost this. almost lost you.”
his mouth found your collarbone, your shoulder, your breast; satoru took your nipple into his hungry mouth, sucking hard, and the combination of that and the way he was deeply fucking you made you sob.
“satoru—satoru, i’m close—”
“i know,” he said, and he sounded drunk, drugged, his words slurring against your skin. “i can feel you, baby. you’re squeezing me so tight. fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”
satoru reached down between you, his thumb finding your clit, and the touch, even through the overstimulation from earlier, sent a jolt through you so intense that you nearly screamed.
“cum for me,” he said, his voice breaking. “cum on my cock. let me feel it.”
satoru pressed down on your clit in slow, tight little circles, matching the rhythm of his hips, and the pressure built and built and built until—
you completely shattered.
your orgasm ripped through you like a wave, your body arching off the bed, your walls clenching around him so hard that he groaned, his hips stuttering against yours.
“fuck—fuck, i’m—”
satoru came with a broken cry, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, his hips grinding into you as he emptied himself inside you, hot and thick. you could feel it — the pulse of him, the warmth of him filling you up, and the sensation was so intense, so intimate, that you felt tears slip down your cheeks.
for a moment, neither of you moved.
his weight was heavy on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his hands still gripping your hips like he was afraid to let go; you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, or maybe it was yours, or maybe it was both of you, tangled together and beating as one.
“toru,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.
he lifted his head slowly, his eyes dazed, his lips red and swollen; he looked wrecked, completely undone, and when he saw your tears, his expression crumpled.
“hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. “hey, what’s wrong? did i—”
you shook your head, pulling him down until your foreheads were touching again.
“nothing’s wrong. i just—” you laughed, the sound watery. “i love you. i’ve loved you for so long.”
satoru’s breath caught, and then he was kissing you again, soft and slow, his lips moving against yours like he was trying to memorize the taste of you.
“i love you too,” he said when he finally pulled back. “i love you so much it scares me.”
you smiled, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
satoru pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the spot just below your ear.
“i love you,” he said again, like he was testing the words, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to say them. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”
you could feel him still inside you, softening but not fully, and when he shifted his weight, you winced —nsensitive, so sensitive, every nerve in your body still humming.
but satoru didn’t pull out.
instead, he lowered himself onto his elbows, his face hovering above yours, and started moving again; slow, shallow thrusts, barely pulling out before pressing back in, and the drag of him against your overstimulated walls made you gasp.
“satoru,” you whimpered, your hands pushing weakly at his chest. “i can’t—i’m too—”
“shh,” he murmured, and there was a wildness in his eyes, something desperate and hungry. “you can. you can take it. you’re doing so well, baby. so good for me.”
his hips kept moving, that same slow, torturous rhythm, and you could feel yourself growing wetter around him again, your body betraying you, responding to him even when you thought you had nothing left to give.
“i’m not done with you,” satoru said, and his voice was low, reverent. “i told you. all night.”
his hand slid down between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit again, and you actually sobbed, the sensation too much and not enough all at once.
“you feel that?” satoru asked, his thumb circling, his hips grinding. “you feel how wet you are? you’re dripping, baby. you’re dripping all over my cock.”
and you were. you could feel it, the mix of his cum and yours sliding down your thighs, soaking into the sheets beneath you; the filth of it, the intimacy of it, made your face burn, but you couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t do anything but cling to him as he fucked you slow and deep.
“i want to feel you cum again,” he said, and his voice was shaking. “i want to feel you squeeze me again. can you do that for me? can you give me one more?”
you shook your head without even thinking, but satoru just give you that soft, devastating smile.
“you can,” the boy said. “i know you can. you’re so good for me. my good girl.”
the praise washed over you, warm and intoxicating, and you felt something loosen in your chest; your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and satoru groaned, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before picking back up.
“that’s it,” he breathed. “that’s my girl. take it. take all of me.”
satoru was moving faster now, his hips snapping against yours, his thumb still working your oversensitive clit in tight, focused circles, and the pleasure was building again, sharp and bright, and you could feel yourself climbing toward something that felt almost too big to contain.
“satoru—i’m gonna—”
“i know,” he said, and his voice was wrecked, desperate. “cum for me. cum again. let me feel you.”
you came with a scream, your body convulsing around him, your nails raking down his back; satoru followed you a moment later, his hips stuttering, his mouth finding your shoulder to muffle the sound of his own groan as he spilled inside you again, adding to the mess, to the heat, to the overwhelming fullness that had you trembling beneath him.
he collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face buried in your neck. you could feel his pulse racing against yours, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and for a long moment, neither of you moved.
finally, satoru lifted his head.
his face was flushed, his hair a complete disaster, his lips parted and kiss-swollen; he looked like he’d been thoroughly ruined, and the sight of him made your chest ache.
“i love you,” he whispered again.
he smiled; that soft, real smile that you were starting to think was made only for you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“this is just the beginning,” satoru said, his voice rough but warm. “i’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”
you find husband!gojo's secret sex toy. so you edge him with it until he learns his lesson! mdni ⟢
you hadn't meant to find it, truly. you were just looking for satoru's spare charger when you opened the drawer of his nightstand, expecting to find the usual clutter of blindfolds, receipts, candy wrappers, and such. instead, your fingers brushed against smooth silicone, and when you pulled it out, your eyes widened comically.
a fleshlight. clearly high-end, expensive-looking, and used based off the bottle of lube tucked beside it.
"looking for something, sweetheart?"
you turn around to find your clueless husband leaning against the doorframe, a short-lived, lazy smile plastered onto his face. though his smile is wiped off just as suddenly when he registers what you're holding in the palm of your hand.
"satoru," you enunciate slowly, holding up the toy. "what is this?"
"I-I can explain, baby..." he pushes off the doorframe, shuffling miserably toward you as if accepting his own face "it's really not a big deal..."
"not a big deal?" you tilt your head, an expression of utter betrayal painted across your features, "you have me. why would you need this?"
something flickers in his brilliant blue eyes—like a deer in headlights, "sometimes you're not available, and I—"
"I'm always available for you." you set the toy on the bed, crossing your arms. "you know that. so why, satoru? why would you use this instead of just asking me?"
he runs a shaky hand through his white hair, feeling like a scolded child "I-I bought it before I met you.. when there were no expectations, when there was no—"
"—no me," you finish for him. "I think you need to be reminded exactly what you're choosing this over."
his eyes narrow slightly, sensing danger. "what are you—"
"strip," you command, your voice leaving no room for argument. "and get on the bed."
he just stares at you for a moment, clearly debating whether to laugh it off or obey. but something in your expression must have convinced him, because he slowly begins unbuttoning his shirt, mentally succumbing himself to your whims.
"baby, are you serious..?" he murmurs, shrugging off his shirt to reveal his lean, muscular torso.
"oh, absolutely." you confirm with a sadistic smile. you pick up the toy, turning it over in your hands. "since you like this thing so much, let's see how you handle it when I'm in control."
his pants and boxers follow the growing pile of clothes discarded onto the floor, and despite his apparent nervousness, his cock was already half-hard, responding to the authority in your voice. he climbs onto the bed, and you could see the slight tremor in his hands—from anticipation or apprehension, you weren't sure.
"on your back," you instruct. "hands above your head."
satoru complies like clockwork, sprawling across the mattress with his arms stretched overhead. his cock twitches against his stomach, and you notice how his breathing has already quickened exponentially. cocky gojo satoru, already reduced to a helpless puddle at your feet.
you retrieve the lube from the nightstand, warming it between your palms as you kneel beside him. his eyes track your every movement, pupils dilated with sheer want.
noticing the confused anticipation swirling in his eyes, you clarify, "I'm going to use your little toy on you. and you're going to take it. but you don't get to come—not until I decide you've learned your lesson."
"baby, come on—" he starts, but cuts off with a sharp inhale as you wrapped your lubed hand around his now fully erect cock, stroking slowly.
"no," you whisper firmly. "you wanted to use this instead of me. so now you get to experience exactly what you chose."
you release him, and he makes a small sound of protest that dies in his throat when you bring the toy to his tip. his hips jerk involuntarily as you press it down, enveloping him in the tight, slick silicone.
"f-fuuck," gojo breathes, his hands clenching into fists above his head.
you work the toy slowly down his length, watching his face contort with pleasure. his usual composure was already cracking, lips parted and breath coming in faster. when you reach the base of his shaft, you pause, letting him feel the full sensation.
"feel good?" you ask, voice dripping with false sweetness.
"yes," he gasps. "god, yes, but—"
you begin moving the toy again, establishing a steady rhythm that has his back arching off the bed. up and down, twisting slightly on each stroke, you work him with practiced precision—except with silicon instead of the familiarity of your palm. his cock is flushed and leaking, and you can feel him throbbing inside the toy.
"but what?" you prompt, slowing your movements.
"but I ngh.. want you," he admits, his voice strained. "not.. f-fuck.. this.. I want you."
"should have thought of that before." you smile, increasing your pace, revelling in the way his whole body tenses in response. you can see it building—the way his abs clench, how his toes curl, the desperate way his hips patheticallu start to thrust up into the toy.
just as he approaches the edge, you stop completely, pulling the toy away.
"no!—" the word bursts from him desperately. "—p-please, I was so so close.."
"I know," you reply calmly, watching his cock pulse and twitch in the air, denied its release. "that's the point, 'toru."
his chest heaves as he struggles to regain control, a light sheen of sweat already forming on his skin. those blue eyes fix on you, pleading.
"please," he tries again. "I-I'm—fuck!—sorry, okay? I shouldn't have—"
"shouldn't have what?" you trail your fingers up his inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where he needed you most.
"sh-shouldn't have used it," he pants. "shouldn't have ever chosen it—hnng—over you. just please... I need you to touch me.
"but I am touching you?" you bring the toy back up, pressing it against his sensitive tip. he whimpers—actually whimpers—at the contact. "isn't this what you wanted?"
before he could answer, you plunge the toy down his length again, faster this time. satoru's head thrashes against the pillow, white hair splaying across the fabric as pleasure overwhelms him.
"oh fuck, oh fuuuck, please—" his words dissolve into incoherent moans as you work him ruthlessly toward another peak.
you watch him climb higher, his entire body drawn tight as a bowstring. his hands have moved from above his head, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. just as his cock begins to pulse with the telltale signs of orgasm, you stopped again.
"what do you need?" you ask, setting the toy aside and running your hand up his trembling thigh.
"you," he gasps immediately. "n-need you, baby. your hand, your mouth, your pussy—anything. only you, just you, please."
"not the toy?"
"fuck the toy!" his composure has completely shattered now, your husband reduced to a begging, desperate mess. "I don't want it. I want you. only you. please, baby, pleasee—"
you let him suffer for another moment, watching precum leak steadily from his tip, his cock so hard it looks almost painful. then you wrap your hand around him, and he nearly sobs with relief.
"thank you," he breathes. "thank you, fuck, thank you—"
but you keep your strokes slow, torturous, maintaining him right on that knife's edge without letting him tip over. his hips roll, trying to fuck into your fist, but you pull back whenever he gets too eager.
"tell me again—" you command. "—why do you need me?"
"because nothing else compares," he pants, words tumbling out desperately. "because you're perfect, and I'm an idiot, and I need you more than air—please, please let me come. I'll never use it again, I'll blast it into smithereens, I swear, just please—"
you pick up the toy again with your free hand, and his eyes widen in panic.
"no, nonono wait—"
"shh." you position it at his base while your other hand works his leaky tip. "I want you to come like this. feeling both. understanding the difference."
you work him with both the toy and your hand, creating an overwhelming combination of sensations. satoru was completely gone now, reduced to a writhing, moaning mess beneath you, begging continuously.
"please, p-please, I need it, need you, so close, please let me—"
"come," you command. "come for me, 'toru."
permission granted, his orgasm hits him like a tidal wave. his back arches completely off the bed, every muscle in his body going rigid as he comes harder than you've ever seen. ropes of cum paints his stomach and chest as he cries out your name, the sound broken and ecstatic and utterly yours.
you work him through it, both toy and hand moving in tandem until he was gasping, oversensitive and trembling with aftershocks. only then did you release him, setting the toy aside and running your clean hand soothingly over his heaving chest.
"holy fuck," he breathes, throwing an arm over his eyes. "that was..."
"a pretty neat punishment, huh?" you finish for him, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw. "did you learn your lesson?"
he lowers his arm, those blue eyes now soft and sated as they meet yours. "yeah," he says quietly and contently. "I learned that I'm a fucking idiot for ever thinking I could ever hide anything from you."
"good." you kiss him properly this time. when you pull back, you pick up the toy one last time. "so we can throw this away?"
"yes. god, yes. please." he watches as you toss it towards the trash bin. "I never want to see that thing again. you're all I need, baby. all I want."
you settle beside him, and he immediately pulls you close, still trembling slightly. "though I do have to admit," he murmurs against your hair, "that was the best punishment I've ever received."
"don't get any ideas," you warn with a smile. "this was a one-time thing."
"a one time thing, huh?" he quips devilishly, "but baby, don't you happen to own a rose toy?"
a/n: @princeable the kids miss you baby please come back home🙏🙏🙏
