you wake to the weight of him already pressing into the mattress beside you, the heat of his body seeping through the thin sheet. the morning light filters through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the room, and satoru is propped on one elbow, watching you with those half-lidded eyes that make your stomach clench. he doesn't say anything for a long moment, just traces a lazy finger down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast, stopping to circle your nipple until it stiffens under his touch.
“morning,” your boyfriend murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and the word is a promise.
you shift, stretching into his hand, and he takes that as permission. the sheet falls away as he leans down, mouth replacing fingers, tongue flat against your nipple before he sucks it between his lips. a soft gasp escapes you, hand finding its way into his white hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. he hums against your skin, the vibration traveling straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself already starting to slick up.
his free hand slides down your stomach, over your hip, fingers dipping between your legs. he doesn't rush, doesn't push, just traces the line of your slit through the damp fabric of your underwear, collecting the wetness that's already beading there. “fuck, you're soaked,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you, that lazy grin spreading across his face. “been dreaming about me?”
you don't answer with words. you hook your leg over his hip, grinding your clothed cunt against his hand, and he takes the hint. his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your thighs, and you lift your hips to help. he tosses them somewhere off the bed, not caring where they land, and then his hand is back, naked this time, two fingers sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness before he presses them inside.
the stretch is sweet, familiar, and you buck into his hand as he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur. he watches your face, that grin never quite leaving his lips, but his eyes are dark, hungry. “that's it,” he coaxes, pumping his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me hear you.”
you're already breathless, hips moving in time with his hand, and when he adds a third finger, the pressure makes you gasp. he's not rushing, taking his time, working you open at a pace that's almost cruel. you can feel yourself clenching around his fingers, your body begging for more, and he knows it. he knows exactly what you need, and he's going to make you wait.
“satoru,” you whine, and the sound comes out broken, desperate.
“yeah?” he leans down, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “want my cock, don't you?”
“yes,” you gasp, and he pulls his fingers out slowly, deliberately, dragging them through your wetness one last time before he brings them to his own lips. he curls his tongue around them, tasting you, and the sight makes your cunt clench around nothing.
“god, you taste good,” he mutters, and then he's shifting, kneeling between your legs, his cock already hard and leaking against his stomach. he doesn't bother with his boxers, just pushes them down enough to free himself, and the first sight of him in the morning light makes your mouth water. he's thick, flushed, the head slick with pre-cum, and the way he strokes himself once, twice, before lining up with your entrance is almost too much.
he doesn't push in right away. he just rests the head against your soaked folds, sliding it through your wetness, teasing you both. your hips lift, trying to take him, but he holds still, that grin turning wolfish. “what's the hurry? we've got all morning.”
“i need you,” you say, and it's not an exaggeration. your whole body is aching for him, your cunt clenching on air, your nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air. you reach down, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, guiding him to where you need him most, and he finally gives in.
satoru pushes in slow, inch by inch, and the stretch is everything. your walls part around him, welcoming him, and the feeling of being filled so completely makes you moan. he doesn't stop until his hips are flush against yours, his balls pressing against your ass, and he stays there, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him buried inside you.
“fuck, you're tight,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “always so tight for me.”
you wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, and that's all the encouragement he needs. he pulls out almost all the way, just the tip still inside, and then snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. the sound that escapes you is part moan, part scream, and he does it again, and again, building a rhythm that has the bed creaking beneath you.
the morning air fills with the sounds of your bodies meeting—wet, obscene, perfect. each thrust hits deep, the head of his cock pressing against that sensitive spot inside you, and you can feel your orgasm building already, coiling low in your belly. he's not holding back now, his pace quickening, his breath coming in ragged pants against your ear.
“look at me,” he commands, and you do, meeting those blue eyes that are almost black with lust. “i want to see your face when you come.”
his hand finds your clit, thumb pressing down in tight circles, and that's all it takes. the orgasm crashes over you, sudden and overwhelming, your back arching off the mattress, a cry tearing from your throat. your walls clench around him, milking his cock, and he groans, fucking you through it, not slowing down for a second.
“fuck, that's it,” he growls, and you can feel him thickening inside you, feel the twitch that means he's close. “gonna fill you up. gonna pump you so full.”
you're still trembling from the aftershocks when he buries himself one last time, hips stuttering, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he comes. you feel it—hot, wet, pouring into you, filling you in a way that makes your oversensitive cunt clench again. he rides it out, grinding against you, making sure every drop is buried deep.
when he finally stills, his weight settles on top of you, his cock still twitching inside you. he kisses your neck, your jaw, finally your mouth, and the kiss is lazy, spent, tasting of salt and morning breath.
“good morning,” he mumbles against your lips, and you laugh, the sound weak and breathless.
but he's not done. you feel him stirring inside you again, already half-hard, and he pulls back just enough to look at you with that familiar, wicked grin. “round two?”
before you can answer, he's moving, shifting his weight, rolling you onto your stomach. your knees find the mattress without prompting, your body already remembering this position from countless other mornings. he settles behind you, his chest pressing against your back, one hand bracing on the bed beside your head while the other guides his cock back to your slick, well-fucked cunt.
he pushes in with one smooth motion, and the angle is different, deeper, hitting a spot that makes your fingers curl into the sheets. he starts slow at first, drawing out each thrust, letting you feel every inch of him dragging along your walls. the wet sounds come back, mixed with your choked moans and his low curses.
“you take me so fucking well,” he grunts, one hand moving from the bed to grip your hip, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. “you love feeling my cock in you, don't you?”
“yes,” you gasp, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts.
he reaches around, hand sliding down your belly, fingers finding your clit again. you're already so sensitive from the first orgasm that the touch makes you gasp, but he doesn't relent, rubbing you in tight circles as he fucks into you. the pleasure is almost too much, bordering on pain, and it only makes you wetter.
his pace quickens, his breathing growing ragged. the headboard starts knocking against the wall with each thrust, and he doesn't care. you can't care, either—all that exists is the feeling of him inside you, his hand on your clit, his breath hot on your neck.
“gonna come again,” he says, his voice strained. “gonna come inside you and you're gonna take it all.”
“i will,” you manage, and the words are your undoing. his hips slam against yours, once, twice, and then he's shuddering behind you, a low moan torn from his throat as he spills into you again. the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, the heat of his cum filling you, tips you over the edge, your own orgasm washing through you in waves, your cunt milking him dry.
he collapses over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his lips trailing lazy kisses along your spine. you're both panting, slick with sweat, the room smelling of sex and morning light.
after a long moment, he pulls out slow, and you feel the rush of his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs. he watches, his hand coming down to push some of it back inside, his fingers gentle but deliberate.
“stay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “let it soak in.”
you laugh, the sound soft and content, and roll onto your back to face him. he looks debauched, his hair a mess, his lips swollen, his chest flushed. he's beautiful in a way that makes your heart ache.
satoru grins, sliding back up to capture your mouth in a slow, deep kiss. his hand traces down your side, resting on your hip, thumb stroking the damp skin. “breakfast,” he says against your lips, “or another round?”
your legs are shaking, your cunt sore and full of his cum, and the thought of another round sends a shiver through you. but you can feel his cock against your thigh, already stirring again, and you know your answer before you speak.
“another round,” you whisper, pulling him down to you.
he laughs, the sound muffled against your mouth, and this time when he enters you, it's slow, gentle, a different kind of claiming. the morning stretches out before you, and neither of you is in any hurry to let it end.
Summary: Being the tutor of frat boys Eren Jaeger and Satoru Gojo has gotten you quite a few jealous stares, but they were nothing more than hot acquaintances to you. That changes when they both invite you to a frat party they're hosting.
Content: College au, fratjo, frat!eren, fem reader, alcohol usage, characters are tipsy, making out, oral sex, spit, cum eating, choking on dick, penetration, no condom, kind of an Eiffel Tower?, positions are weirdly placed, yumihisu mentioned, mostly proofread
A/N: Art by @mochikuyo on Twitter!
WC: 3k
Eren Jaeger and Satoru Gojo—two of the most well-known men throughout your entire college campus. The reasons for their popularity weren't all good, but most were decent.
The two were notorious frat boys, ones that would throw parties that would have students talking for days after they took place. Having attended a few, you could admit they were pretty exciting. Eren and Satoru were both fun and pretty nice, at least to you.
To be fair, they sort of had to be nice to you. You were their sweet tutor who took time out of your day to help them in categories they struggled with academically. The pay you received from them was pretty nice as well.
Eren on Tuesdays, Satoru on Thursdays. Maybe an extra day thrown in if either one had an exam coming up.
Now, both men were seated in front of you, personally inviting you to their frat party on Friday night to make certain you would show up.
"I'm confused." You started, crossing your arms. "Why are you inviting me in person? People usually just show up to these things."
"Because inviting you in person would make you feel for compelled to attend." Eren answered, leaning forward in his chair. Satoru nodded in agreement.
After taking a moment to recall on whether or not you had anything planned tomorrow night, you sighed. "Alright, I'll be there. Do you mind if I bring a friend?"
"Not at all!" Satoru clapped his hands together, a small grin on his face. "The more people, the better. Bring whoever you want."
Starting to slide your textbooks into your bag, you gave the two a small nod.
"Okay, then. I'll see you both tomorrow." You exited the library after giving Eren and Satoru a wave, heading to your dorm. It felt a bit odd to you that you got some special, personal invitation. Perhaps you were overthinking the whole thing; it was just a party.
"Ymir!" You called to your roommate as you entered your dorm. She was by herself, which was a shocker; she was almost always with her girlfriend, Historia.
Ymir looked up from her phone, turning it off. "What's up?"
"Do you want to come to Eren and Satoru's frat party with me tomorrow? You can bring Historia if she wants to come."
Ymir raised an eyebrow, lips turning up into a small smirk. "Eren and Satoru? Those two boys you tutor? What, did they personally invite you or something?"
"They did, actually." Leaning against the wall, you give Ymir a look. "Do you think I'm some loser with no social life?"
"It's not that, it's just they don't really invite people. They just go around advertising their little party knowing people will come."
Ymir was right about that, no doubt. "Whatever. Are you two going to come with me or not?"
Ymir stands up, turning her phone back on. "I'll text Historia about it right now. The answer is probably going to be a yes."
"What do you think I should wear?" You say after a beat of silence. Ymir shrugs, not looking up from her screen.
“Wear something you’d wear to a party, I guess.” She said it like the words seriously provided some form of help. “That little tight minidress seems fitting.”
That was a good option, also one of your only few options. You would opt for it, though.
“Historia’s going. She’s going to stop by here tomorrow so we can all go together.”
“Alright, nice.” You go to sit on the edge of your bed. Ymir glanced over at you with eyes that said your conversation wasn’t over yet.
“So,” Ymir says, as if reading your thoughts. “You have to like one of the boys, no way you don’t. Do you like both?”
“What? Of course not. They’re nice friends, of course. But I can’t see myself getting into anything intimate with them.”
Ymir chuckles, but that quickly turns into loud laughter—an obvious sign she thinks you’re bullshitting.
“I promise you, tomorrow night you’re going to be getting undressed by at least one of them. Go to their dorm, though, because I’ll be in here with Historia.”
“Do you seriously think…?” Your voice dies down; you’re not in the mood to argue with Ymir and her delusions.
She doesn’t budge on the matter. “Twenty bucks says you don’t sleep with one of them. Forty if it’s both.”
It’s not a good idea to feed into Ymir and her stupid little bets by any means, but part of you wants so badly to prove her wrong. “Fine.”
“Your poor wallet.” She frowns sarcastically, laughing to herself as she goes back to texting Historia, probably telling her about the whole bet.
It didn’t matter; Ymir could tell whoever she wanted. You were going to win this bet.
The air was buzzing with the faint scents of alcohol and weed, the bright, colorful lights so flashy you swore you would have had a seizure if you were epileptic.
Ymir had an arm slung tightly around Historia's shoulders, keeping her smushed against her side as she eyed the crowded party, as if she was searching for any danger.
"Glad you made it!" A deep voice rang out from your right. It was Eren; he was heading over with Satoru, who was clenching a cold beer in his fist.
It was now your noticed how absolutely ripped they were. I mean, you acknowledged it before, sure, but something about this stuffy, hot setting made their biceps look more appealing to the eye.
"I swear you guys made this bigger and louder than all the last." You snap out of your daze, scratching the back of your neck, awkwardly looking to the side. "Oh! I brought my friends, Ymir and Historia."
Moving to the side so the boys could get a better view, you notice Ymir glance warily at Eren and Satoru.
"Hi! I think I've only ever talked to you both once before! This is great!" Historia was practically beaming, giving them a wave that was much too friendly for Ymir's liking.
"I'm glad you think so!" Satoru smiles, and Ymir rolls her eyes.
"Alright, Historia and I are going to go get drinks." Ymir starts to leave but pauses to say something to Eren and Satoru first. "By the way, I'm marrying her. So back off."
The three of you laugh simultaneously, watching the two girlfriends walk off; Eren directs his attention back to you.
"Nothing study-related tonight, got that? You're here to have fun." Satoru nods in agreement.
"Fine by me, as long as you two stay by my side. It's quite rowdy in here." You gesture to the loud group of partying kids.
Satoru slings his arm over your shoulders, starting to walk with you while Eren trails next to him.
The music became louder the further you got in, to the point you were wondering how such a loud sound came from one speaker. Eren has a drink in your hand before you even think to ask for one.
After two beers, you slowly started to become looser on your feet, gently swaying to music while Eren and Satoru danced with you, encouraging you to move more.
The room started to become hotter and somehow even more crowded, but your mind was starting to fuzz--you didn't even notice more people joining the party.
Two drinks turned into four, four turned into who knows how many. The only thing your mind is currently processing is the two hot, ripped men in front of you, sweaty and just as drunk.
Eren's hands are gripping your waist from behind, grinding your ass against the bulge in his jeans. Satoru in front of you both, phone in hand, recording the whole interaction.
"You're so warm." Eren breaths into your ear, lips faintly touching the skin. Despite your sweat, his words send a shiver down your spine. Eren gives you a gentle nudge away from his crotch, wanting to save cumming for later.
"Go give Satoru some love, babe." Satoru's phone is in his pocket as soon as he sees Eren nudge you towards him.
He pulls you into his chest, and now your lips are on his. The kiss is bitter-tasting and messy, spit pooling at the corner of your lips while Satoru's tongue works inside of your mouth.
You moan into Satoru's mouth, arms wrapped around his neck. Your head is pounding; you don't know if it's because of the deafeningly loud bass in your ears, the alcohol, or the sudden desire for sex. What you do know is that it's becoming hard to endure.
"My head..." pulling away, you point to your skull. Satoru takes the hint, motioning for Eren to come closer.
"Our girl has got a little bit of a headache." Eren looks down at you, taking another sip of his beer.
"Let's get her out of here, then." Eren grabs your hand, leading you and Satoru to the exit.
The pounding throughout your head comes to a still once you step away from the party. Eren's hand is still gripping yours, Satoru taking the liberty of placing one on your back.
"Satoru... come here." You mumble, attempting to bring Satoru's lips back to yours. He almost lets you kiss him, but is stopped by Eren.
"Slow down, both of you. Let's at least go back to my dorm."
Pouting, you let Eren pull you away from Satoru. The walk up to Eren’s dorm is a drunk mess, the three of you stumbling over nothing an embarrassing amount of times.
Breathing a sigh of relief when you enter Eren’s dorm, you kick off your shoes, inviting yourself to go lie down on his bed.
Eren and Satoru look down at you, hungry eyes roaming over your body, as if plotting how the rest of the night would go. Catching their gazes, you sit up.
“Come here, both of you.”
Both boys are sitting at your sides immediately, eager eyes boring into your face. Your gaze flicks between their faces as you decide which one you should go for first.
"Eren, stand up. You're going to watch for a minute."
Eren's mouth opened to complain, but he reluctantly agreed. He got up off the bed, arms crossed as he looked down on you and Satoru.
Tugging at your short dress, you pull it up and off your body, leaving you half naked for Satoru. He swallowed nervously, cocky demeanor from earlier gone once he saw you in nothing but undergarments.
You unclasp your bra, letting your tits fall free. Satoru and Eren's eyes are fixed on the soft flesh; Satoru wants to touch, but he doesn't dare to. Not yet.
"You have a good tongue." You murmur into Satoru's ear, moving to lay back on Eren's bed. His cheeks were bright red, understanding the task you wanted him to complete even with his hazy mind.
Swallowing hard, Satoru got down between your legs, staring at your clothed pussy.
"Come on, Satoru. Are you scared?" Impatience growing by the second, you tugged at your panties, egging him to pull them off the rest of the way.
Not wanting to hear shit from Eren, Satoru reached up, sliding your panties to the side; that was all that was needed for him to eat you out.
Satoru pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had soft whimpers falling from your lips. Your noises gave him courage, and his mouth was latched onto your pussy just mere seconds later.
His warm tongue slid in and out of your wet hole, tastebuds tingling with the taste of your slick. Both of your hands were tangled in his soft hair, tugging every time his tongue did something right.
"Ngh... right there, right there..." You whispered, the pitch of your pretty voice growing higher with every skilled flick of Satoru's tongue.
Eren was watching with wide eyes, palming his erection through the fabric of his jeans. He was painfully hard, wanting nothing more than to fuck you full of his cum.
"You c-can take those off, E-Eren." That's all he needs to hear before his shaky hands are fumbling with his belt, tossing it onto the floor. Eren shoves down his jeans and boxers, hard cock springing free.
Satoru's mouth is still working hard against your cunt, tongue as deep as physically possible. He's nothing short of pussy-drunk, his eyes closed while he ate you out like it was animalistic instinct.
His hips were grinding down into the mattress in search for friction against his cock, while your hips were bucking up into his mouth. Eren's hand was working fast on his cock, languid up-and-down motions producing loud sounds of skin-against-skin.
"S-Satoru, I'm close, fuck! I'm gonna cum!"
Satoru tilts his head to the side at your words, giving himself a better angle to bring you to climax. Soft, small praises leave his lips, muffled against your folds.
"Cum for Satoru, baby." Eren mutters from the sidelines, hand coming to a slow on his dick. He didn't want to cum, not yet; he was only going to finish if it was inside you.
With a loud cry, your sticky cum floods Satoru's waiting mouth, coating his lips and chin. He pulls away when the pace of your breathing becomes steady again, his cum-covered lips a pretty sight.
Satoru licks his lips, savoring the flavor of your arousal. Eren walks over, running two fingers up your sensitive folds, bringing them to his lips. He sucks them clean, nodding at the taste.
"You taste as good as you look." Eren chuckles, obnoxiously smacking his lips.
"Eren, do you think we could all fit on your bed?" You sat up, raising an eyebrow. Eren shrugged.
"We'll make it work, sweetheart. Whatever you want."
Joining you both on the bed, Eren flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto all fours.
"Get in front of her, Satoru." Eren nodded up towards the top of the bed. It was a tight fit, but the proximity only added to the sexual tension.
Eren hoisted your panties from your side, down to your knees, leaving you fully bare for him from behind. In front of your face, Satoru was undressing his lower half, cock free and quite intimidating.
You could feel the fat tip of Eren's cock prodding your ass from behind, precum glistening on the skin of your ass. Satoru's erection only seemed to grow as he looked down at your dilated pupils and confident expression; you were certain you could take both boys at the same time.
Eren slid his large cock in between your asscheeks, waiting for you to take his best friend's dick into your mouth.
Satoru inched forwards, the tip of his cock barely grazing your lips. Eyes glazed over, you took his length into your mouth.
"Good girl," Eren smirked, deciding to let you have what you wanted. He slowly pushed into you from behind, fat cock filling you up.
Moaning around Satoru's cock, you bobbed your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks. Satoru tilted his head back with a groan, eyes squeezing shut.
Eren thrusted his hips forwards, starting slow before picking up the pace. He bit down on his lower lip, watching the flesh of your ass ripple every time it made contact with his hips.
Each thrust from Eren from behind sent you forward on Satoru's cock, forcing you to take him further down your throat. Already trying to stop himself from fucking your throat, Satoru shot Eren a glare; if he kept shoving you forwards, you'd suffocate on his dick.
Eren's fingertips dug hard into your hips, grip deep enough to leave marks that would be visible for days. Nothing but strangled moans could be made out from your throat while you struggled to take Satoru, choking on his dick.
Spit dripped from your mouth onto the bed, eyes starting to water as Eren fucked you harder from behind. Satoru was a moaning mess, too guilty to watch you struggle to take him and Eren at the same time.
"Eren... slow down, fuck." Satoru grunted. His pleas fell upon deaf ears; Eren gave your ass a hard slap, feeling you tighten around him already.
"Mmmphf..." you were close to cumming with no way of voicing your needs. The only thing left to do was let Eren fuck you until he came.
Something that didn't take long.
Eren's hips slapped against your ass, the lewd sounds of skin-against-skin filling the room. Satoru's hips rocked forwards in small motions, tip hitting the back of your throat. It was a miracle you hadn't puked by now.
He reached around, rubbing your neglected clit to bring you to your orgasm with him and Satoru, who was watching your fucked-out eyes roll back.
"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna fill you up, okay?" Eren's voice was strained as he spoke, movements becoming more rigid. With one final, hard thrust that sent your body forwards, Eren came hard inside of you, moans loud and pornographic.
The feeling of your mouth squeezing Satoru's cock sent him over the edge next. Hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, the burning sensation borderline addictive.
Satoru pulled out of your mouth immediately, letting you breathe for a second. Catching your breath was interrupted, however, by your orgasm ripping through your lower stomach.
A mix of moans and strained coughs poured from your mouth as you came, saliva dripping down your chin.
Eren pull out of you, giving you the freedom to collapse onto the bed, body spent and shaking. Eren and Satoru admired you from above; how your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, how your tits looked all splayed out.
They were undeniably proud of their work.
The two joined you on either side, letting you rest in between their toned bodies, each one having an arm draped over your chest.
Shit.
The bet.
There was no getting past Ymir. She knew the morning-after expression of someone who had just gotten laid a little too well. Knowing you were about to lose forty bucks, you let out an exasperated sigh.
sum taking the v-card of the most popular boy on campus!
pairing fem!reader x fratjo
chapter two of LANCEY OR LANCEY | masterlist
content MDNI, nsfw, porn with little to no plot, oral (m rec.) , fïngering (f rec.), overstimulation, virgin fratjo, shameless reader, slight dumbification, straddling to missionary, hickeys, praise kink, dry humping, sloppy kisses, dirty talk, creamp!e, swearîng, aftercare, perhaps some typos
wc 2.4k
cross-posted on Ao3
Satoru Gojo is a virgin.
Sure he’s had girlfriends, gotten some blow jobs, jerked off—but has never sealed the deal.
So the relationships never work out. He doesn’t like sharing personal things about himself, being intimate with people on a personal level—or opening up in general.
And somehow you’ve still ended up pinned beneath him, mouth colliding with his as you fondle with his pant’s zipper.
You surprised him again when you followed after him, closing the door behind you as you walked into his bedroom.
And fuck is he glad you did.
Soft. Warm. Wet. You’re like some kind of forbidden fruit he has been longing to taste.
Your back is pinned against his bedroom door, eyes shut as he shoves a thigh between your legs.
When he goes to zip down your dress you pull away, filling his bedroom with shallow breaths. Maybe you weren’t into this as much as he thought?—
His eyebrow raises and when your gaze follows it he smiles. His finger touches the piercing on it, “What, just noticed it? You like it?”
Whatever snarky remark he was about to make catches in his throat when you slowly raise your hand and graze the piece of metal, “Yeah, I do…”
Shameless aren’t you? Not at all as shy as you seemed back in lecture hall. He grabs your wrist and kisses the back of your hand, “Lucky me.”
His hand makes its way back to the zipper of your dress and pulls it down, deliberately pushing you further against him.
A smile tugs at his lips as he watches you breathe out quickly, your eyes fluttering shut. He isn’t well versed in sex—but he has an idea of what he wants do to you. And seeing how reactive you are, he’ll have no problem telling if you like it or not.
Just as he’s about to finish unzipping your dress, your eyes snap open and land on the textbook laying on his nightstand.
“So you’re a law major?”
His movements pause and he stares at you bemused, “yeah—is small talk really what you to be having right now?”
When you say nothing he tugs off his shirt and tosses it to the corner of his room. “In that case,” he presses his lips roughly against your neck, “why’d you do it?”
Your fingers tug at his hair as he begins to nip at the skin under your jaw, “do what?” you ask, voice strained.
“Kiss me.”
“Because I wanted to.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth his teeth harshly graze your neck and you gasp.
Did you speak to every man like this, like such a tease?—or only him? He hopes it’s the fucking latter.
In the span of a day you have infatuated him. But he’s sure it’s lust driving him this mad—because all he wants do now more than ever is fuck you until the only name you know is his.
He tugs your dress down and it pools at your feet. The both of you stumble as you move, his lips find their way back to yours and he eventually lands on his bed, your body on top of his.
By now your legs are on either side of him and fuck does he feel everything. Every roll of your hips against his, every breath that fans against his skin as you moan softly.
His cheeks flush when you move faster, your breasts bouncing together. “fucking gorgeous” he mutters against your lips, enveloping you in another harsh kiss.
Your hips begin to move at a dangerous pace and he can feel his dick straining against his boxers, begging to be freed. Your hand grabs him through his jeans and he groans, slightly embarrassed from how painfully hard he is.
You pull your lips from his and open your mouth expectantly. He doesn’t know how but he understands and he spits into your mouth.
You swallow it and move down his body slowly, mouth trailing open, wet kisses along his skin. His breath catches in his throat and his cheeks warm, yeah he’d been sucked off before—but this was the first time he felt this fucking nervous.
When you reach his crotch you tug at his pants tossing him a look, question in your eyes. He nods assuredly, consenting to your touch. Fuck, he’s got no clue why but he trusts you. And it’s fucking scary. Because for the first time he’s found what he hasn’t in his previous relationships—comfort to let go.
He mentally slaps himself, what the hell was he thinking? Such naivety is embarrassing.
Shit, he’s probably just a bit drunk.
Yeah that’s right…Drunk.
And all he’s really found is his sex drive.
You pull his pants down in one swift motion, your eyes widening at the sight of his dick.
What? Fuck. Can you tell he’s a vir—
His entire train of thought is cut off when you wipe his pre-cum off with you finger, licking it clean before taking him in your mouth.
“H-Holy shit” He grips your hair with one of his hands, guiding you as your head bobs up and down.
“Fuck just like that…” his voice trails off and his hips begin to thrust themselves into your mouth, his movements becoming frantic by the second.
His chest moves up and down quickly, groans that border whimpers slip from his mouth—and he’s way too lost in everything to give a shit. Your hands wrap themselves around what your mouth doesn’t fit, twisting in a rhythmic manner.
“Shit—hold on,” he warns hastily, his orgasm imminent. You just stare at him through your lashes, head bobbing faster. His grip on your hair tightens and he sounds pathetic, a whiny mess beneath your touch.
Pleasure overwhelms him and he cums into your mouth without warning.
You pull away, gasping for air after swallowing the salty liquid. Your eyes are slightly watery, chest steadying as your climb back up his body.
His arms help pull you back upwards and he immediately pushes his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth when you feel a finger of his press down on your clit.
He’s never fingered someone before, but he’s heard his friends talk about it. What they’ve done to the girls they’ve slept with—enough to have an understanding of how to touch you.
He roughly pushes your underwear down before adding another finger, breaking the kiss to watch for your reaction. He draws slow, deliberate circles around your clit, your breath hitching.
He drags a finger down your pussy and into your throbbing cunt, his digit sinking into your wetness.
“Fuck—“ you mutter and your head falls against his shoulder.
He grips your chin and pulls your head back, forcing you to meet his amused gaze. “No, let me look at you.”
His finger curves inside of you and a sweet moan escapes your lips, your eyes fluttering shut.
“You’re so fucking wet for me already. ‘Liked sucking my dick huh?”
A ghost of a grin appears on his face when you nod.
“You want me to speed up a little?”
Another impatient nod.
“I’m sorry I’m not sure I understand.”
You eyes snap open and you look at him annoyed, almost exactly as you did back at the cafe.
“Well?” He raises his eyebrow and you scoff, nails digging into his bare shoulder.
“I want you to,” you inch closer with each word, lips brushing against his, “fuck off.”
The room goes silent besides the noise of faint rap music blaring from the party downstairs.
Suddenly he laughs, a smile breaking across his face. You watch him in confusion before a smile tugs at your own lips.
“Good enough.” He says before adding another finger inside of you.
Your smile falls and you moan as his fingers begin to pump inside of your sopping cunt, the lewd sound filling his bedroom.
He stretches you out, your walls relaxing around him. His fingers sink fully inside of you, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.
Your hips roll themselves against his hand desperately, arousal building with each movement.
He takes one of your tits into his mouth, tongue running along your hard nipple. When he pinches it softly with his free hand you whine, body bouncing on his faster.
You become hot and a pit in your stomach blooms as you orgasm, juices running down his fingers.
He pulls his fingers out and scissors them, watching the string of cum that forms between them. Just watching you get off got him hard again.
He licks his fingers clean and you cup his cheek, letting his dick prod your entrance as you kiss him.
“Fuck me.” You breathe against his lips.
His eyes widen slightly and he smiles yet again. How could he possibly deny your request when you asked so nicely?
His teeth sink into your bottom lip as you he aligns himself with your cunt, feeling the urge to just slam inside of you. He doesn’t even know if he’s doing the right thing.
“tell me if it’s too much.” He says, his feeble attempt at making sure you’ll stop him if his cluelessness hurts you.
He wonders how it’ll feel to be in something so warm and tight—if he’ll embarrass himself by coming in just a matter of seconds…fuck he hopes not.
Noticing the worry in his eyes you give him an assuring look, “I’m on the plan…so it’s fine we’re not using a condom.”
When he doesn’t say anything else you begin to sink down onto him. Noises escape both of your mouths, your eyes becoming teary.
“so fucking good…” he mutters under his breath, grip on your hips tightening.
You can’t bring yourself to say anything, he’s big. So fucking big. Sucking him off was one thing, fitting him inside of you another.
You struggle, damp with arousal, walls stretching as you move forward. His own hips rut up into yours trying to quicken the process. You roll your hips, back arched, holding onto his shoulders as you finally take him fully.
Pain courses through you, a few tears begin to roll down your cheeks. He rubs your back affectionately before leaning forward and gently licking the tears from your face.
“You look so gorgeous,” he whispers softly, his hips moving upwards, getting harder from the sight of your flushed face.
You lean your head against his shoulder and relax into his touch, letting your cunt ease around him. When the pain begins to subside you match his movements, bouncing up and down his dick.
Once again he forces you to meet his gaze, gripping your chin as he pulls you into a sloppy,wet kiss.
Your tongues run along each others as you fall into a rhythm, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.
He groans into your mouth, grabbing a handful of your ass and pushing you further against him.
His skin is hot and slightly sweaty, hair damp to the touch.
He can feel his pulse racing, heart pounding under his chest as he moves faster. It’s as if your cunt we’re molded for him, its warmth and wetness driving him crazy.
Your fingers tug ruthlessly at his white strands of hair, earning a whiny noise from his lips.
He’s a beautiful mess beneath you, blue eyes clouded with tears of his own as he desperately fucks into you.
A moan slips past your lips as you feel him reach new depths inside of you, pleasure running through your body. Your legs begin to shake as his movements become rough, aggressively slamming into you.
Your mind goes entirely blank, mouth falling agape as he fucks your g spot. Your back arches and you whine loudly as you orgasm racks through you, cum running down his dick.
He finishes soon after you, a mix of whimpers and groans as his hot cum shoots inside of you.
Just as you finish riding your high exhaustion coursing through you, Satoru flips the both of you over. Your back lands against the soft mattress, “I need you—again,” he says, voice barley above a whisper before he starts pounding into you.
You moan as he fucks your sensitive cunt, each stroke of his hitting that sweet spot. Unconsciously you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him have his way.
Mimicking his actions from earlier you lick the tears from his face before he grabs your chin and kisses you. Groaning and whining into your mouth as he thrusts inside of you.
Your orgasm builds fast—too fast. You pull away and he rests his forehead against yours, your sweat stained skin sticking together.
Neither of you break eye contact as you finish together, the both of you squirming in pleasure.
He gives you a sloppy kiss before pulling out of you, his dick wet and cum slicked. Still reeling, chest rising and falling quickly he tries to steady himself as he walks over to his bathroom.
You lay on his bed in silence, listening to the faint sound of rap music playing outside. You glance around his bedroom, it’s surprisingly neat.
There’s a photo of him and his friends on his nightstand. They’re all in shorts and are standing on the beach, a stupid smile on Satoru’s face. The words “Cancun Trip” in bold red letters on the picture frame.
You quickly set the photo down when he makes his way back to the bed, a tissue in his hand. He gently spreads your legs and wipes away the cum on your inner thighs and sensitive folds.
He tosses it away before throwing on a pair of shorts, “you thirsty or anything?” He asks, standing awkwardly.
“No—No thank you, I’m fine.”
“Alright,” he sits back down on the bed, next to you.
You pull his blankets over you body and grab your phone. It’s three in the morning and the party downstairs is still raging on—how long had the two of you been going at it?
He lays next to you, head resting on your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair and he exhales slowly, body relaxing into your touch.
Before you know it you’re dozing off and falling asleep with him in your arms.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru Gojo was no longer a virgin—and it was all your doing.
SYNOPSIS : they say you meet the love of your life when you least expect it. for you, that’s very true. when all hope seems lost, a boy with the most beautiful eyes and an even kinder soul enters your life. he shows you that even when it seems like the end, it isn’t. maybe he’s not just full of it. or maybe, that’s simply just the charm of being loved by gojo satoru.
content includes: female reader, modern au, rich!gojo, some smut, heavy angst, friends to lovers, husband!gojo, some fluff, major character death, grief is a theme, mentions of suicide/murder/sexual assault/abusive figures, pet names (princess, pretty girl, baby), a mix of povs (gojo’s and reader’s), plot with minor porn, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, profanities, alcohol, not 100% proofread sorry. wc: 10.6k
from me to you: kinda lengthy oneshot haha idk why i felt like writing angst for gojo but here it is, probably looking just slightly rushed but i hope it’s fine hehe <3
AT PRESENT
“It’s just like that night we met, isn’t it?” you ask Satoru, a smile naturally forming on your face the moment you see the snowflakes fall from the sky.
They melt in your palm as soon as you extend your hand out. It feels nice, the slight ice-cold on your warm hand. It reminds you of how easily your heart melted for the man next to you, who’s arms mirror yours, outstretched and trying to catch the snowflakes.
The snow is fleeting, both of you enjoying the first snow of the season in silence.
You steal glances at your boyfriend, his face purely angelic that you’ve wondered multiple times whether he’s simply an angel sent from heaven; sent to save you from yourself, sent to make it known that life-changing moments can be a positive thing too.
He’s all you have, all you want, and more. Gojo Satoru is your everything, and when he finally catches you staring, his beautiful sky-blue eyes looking the clearest they’ve ever been, looking like they’ve never known cloudy skies, you know that he thinks the same of you too.
The snowflakes catch on his eyelashes, white landing on white, falling past blues. Satoru’s hands reach out to you now, fingers intertwined with yours. You think he’s just being romantic again, just being cheeky and kissing you for fun because he loves you in every single way, every single minute—but he’s not.
It takes him a second to get on one knee, but only half a second of that for you to tear up. The bright glare of the diamond on the ring in the red velvet box is nearly nothing as striking as the man who’s presenting it to you.
“Y/N, will you marry me?”
Satoru has always loved you, and will always love you. And you think it’s rare; being able to tell with absolute confidence how someone feels about you, especially when you know yourself better than anyone. It’s just the way Satoru is.
“Yes.”
Just like that, nothing else in the world matters. Your past can stay in the past, just like Satoru’s. You’ll build a world together, just the two of you—something that no one can destroy. A paradise fit for two.
The ring on your finger sits just nice, and the man with infinitely blue eyes kisses you even nicer. It’s everything you could ever want.
01: that snowy night you first met the love of your life
It was the night you didn’t really remember.
Fleeting, just like the brief snowfall. A single moment where Gojo Satoru saw you outside the bar, crying to yourself.
He figured that was what you were doing. The whole night he’d been trying to figure out why the bartender looked so sad, tears always threatening to roll down her cheeks.
“Hey, are you okay?” A redundant question, more than anything, but one that Gojo had learned to be a nice sort of comfort; it meant that someone was going out of their way to ask you about your wellbeing—like it was a gesture of care.
He thought it would be nice. He out of all people knew that sometimes it just takes someone to ask to pull you out of a bad day. Sometimes it was enough, other times it wasn’t.
He was betting on the former.
Your demeanour was one he found all too familiar. It reminded him of a year ago, of himself. You see, he’d frequented this bar only lately, but for the last two months that he was here, he found his eyes glued onto a certain student-worker who looked all too out of place in a mostly-empty bar and had such glazed eyes that it only served to draw intrigue from himself.
You took a while to answer him. Sobbing turned into sniffling into nothing at all, and then you turned to face him, a close-eyed grin on your face. “It’s nothing, I’m fine, thanks!” With that, you hurried back into the bar like it was really nothing at all, without even so much as a glance or a look at who he was.
That was the last time he saw you in that bar.
That was also the night Gojo Satoru made it his mission to find out who you were, to find out if his gut instincts were still right.
Maybe you needed someone, just like he did. Maybe, he could be that person. Maybe, you could be too.
02: all the times he stared at you, and the one time you caught him
Fate worked in a funny way.
Gojo Satoru was sure he did pray to someone out there that he’d see you again, but he never expected that he’d see you in his Econ class of all places. He didn’t even know you were from this school.
Thank god he transferred here then.
There he was on a casual Tuesday morning, strolling into the lecture hall like he always did, right hand in pants pocket, black oversized sweater hanging low past his waist, tablet in his other hand. As always, whispers stirred whenever he walked into a room, undoubtedly about how that’s the Gojo kid and oh god you don’t know him? He’s the richest heir in all of Tokyo.
He was used to it by then. There were always rumours and gossip and at that point, he’d heard enough about himself to go around. Some things were true, like how he really was (and still is) the richest heir in Tokyo. Thanks to technology and AI and his great-great-grandfather for founding the company. Now he’d got a cushy seat to an easy, successful life. Or so his parents said.
Looking at the way their life was going; a husband who could barely spare any time for family and a wife who was running around seeking attention from other men, Gojo didn’t think that it constitutes as successful.
The whispers started to cease the moment he walked up to the empty seat next to you, smiling from ear to ear as he waved a friendly hand in front of your face. “Hey, anyone sitting here?” He gestured to the seat next to you. Just a casual starter. You didn’t look as down as you did that night at the bar.
You looked normal. Eerily normal. Just like any other person who deigned to attend 8am lectures. It’s nearly unsettling.
“Oh, it’s you,” you murmured, and Gojo’s surprised. And there he thought you didn’t recognise him at all. “No, it’s free.”
Gojo took his seat beside you like it was normal, like people should’ve expected it.
They didn’t.
Only because Gojo Satoru had been branded as arrogant and obnoxious for the first three weeks into the second year for not being overtly extroverted like they heard he was. For those three weeks, he’d been occupying the seats next to him with his belongings, refusing to let anyone sit nearby.
It had been three whole years since that happened, but for some reason, it still irked him enough not to let anyone close.
Yet there he was that day, choosing to sit next to you, becoming the talk of the school. Again. Naturally, your name came up on their tongues as well.
Gojo was pretty sorry for that, but he was selfish. He knew he was a good judge of character, and he knew that getting to know you would pay off somehow.
“Where do you usually eat lunch?”
You looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. You barely paid him any attention throughout Econ and you’ve hushed him many times because he didn’t adhere by Professor Tanaka’s rules of no talking while teaching is ongoing. Perhaps that was the privilege of being Gojo Satoru.
No one could touch him. Not even his grades, apparently, because you heard he’s scoring 4.0s every semester.
Plus, it had been a while since you had tried to get along with someone, so maybe you felt a little relieved that someone was trying again.
“I usually base it on my mood,” you told him, shrugging, racking your brain to decide what you felt like that day. “I’m feeling something simple. Want some ramen?”
To be very honest, you’d thought the rich, pompous guy in front of you would reject that—something about not being fancy enough for him. But he didn’t.
Gojo Satoru smiled, wide, and gave you a thumbs up.
Throughout lunch, Gojo was happy enough to burn his tongue while he let himself stare at you. You were gorgeous in this light, the glaring irritating 1pm sun. He had a fleeting thought that he could just stare at you all day.
Was this what they called love at first (second or third) sight? It could very well be.
That was the first time Gojo Satoru actually spoke to you.
It was enough to make him follow you around for the rest of the year.
three weeks later.
“So, is it true?”
Gojo froze mid-motion, halfway through writing his case study findings. “Is what true?”
You started loosening up around him, finally, being the first one to initiate this study session. “I heard you killed someone.”
The rumor mill was crazy.
He smirked, putting his pen down and leaning forward, fingers interlaced together, blue eyes peeking up at you through his thick white lashes. “And if it is?”
You smirked back, and Gojo nearly caught his breath and how close you got. It wasn’t fair the effect you had on him. “Then I think I might like to hire your services.”
He rolled a piece of paper and lightly hit your head with it. “Are you trying to put me in jail, missy?”
You hummed, like you were actually considering it, and Gojo only pouted, faking offense. And then you laughed, quietly because you were in the library, and it was like Gojo could physically feel himself falling even deeper.
Over the course of a mere few weeks, Gojo could read you nearly like an open book. You were kind, far kinder than you needed to be. Smart, but that was a given. Beautiful—from first glance at the bar he could already see. (You had tried deflecting his question about what got you so down at the bar; instead, you said Gojo simply looked far too stunning that you couldn’t look him in the eye. Ridiculous.)
But yeah, that was the one thing Gojo could never get you to do: fully open yourself up. He had only heard about it from other people’s mouths. He wanted to hear it from you.
“Oh, Y/N? She’s just kinda unfriendly. Has been since she first came here.”
“Yeah, I was doing a group project with her last year. She did her part but… let’s say she’s a bit of a debbie downer.”
“I heard her parents used to have a successful company. Guessing by how she keeps repeating outfits, maybe not anymore.”
“Yeah, heard she used to be a real stuck-up. But their company probably tanked, and now she’s a poor pauper.”
Even online.
@UNICONFESSIONS: “lmao omg since u guys r curious, i came from the same high school as y/n and she disappeared the last semester. i heard that her father was corrupt and gotten jail LOL. plus the mom had to use the last of their savings to buy her a place in this school. serves ‘em right!!! but i hope they expel her soon <3 — from: lovely a”
Gojo didn’t believe any of them.
It had only been three weeks. He wouldn’t give up just like that. If anything, he knew it could take close to three years just to open up after something traumatic, and if the rumors about you were any true, then he’d have expected no less.
Besides, you were thinking the same thing. There was something Gojo Satoru was hiding from you, implied in the way he always tried to evade your questions about the rumors.
“I heard that something really bad happened so that Gojo guy had to transfer and move up here from his previous uni.”
“Was it something he did?”
“Don’t tell anyone you heard it from me, but I heard that he was being reckless and killed his best friend. And because his family’s so rich, he got pardoned and everything was kept from the press.”
“Oh my god… what a shame. He’s hot!”
“Yeah, and apparently, looks can kill.”
“Shut up, I’d still fuck.”
“Good for you then, I heard he’s a player too. Body count over twenty.”
three months later.
Study sessions were supposed to be productive, not distracting.
Not for Gojo.
He couldn’t stop staring at you. You looked so serious when you studied. The way you’d sometimes bite your lower lip, the way you puffed up your cheeks when something confused you, the way you yawned because you always slept late.
“Not going home for the holidays?” Gojo asked you later as you got ready to leave the lecture hall.
His blue eyes followed your every action; the way your fingers smoothly glided under the papers as you tidied them into a file, the way you tucked your hair back behind your ear, the way you held on to your bottle.
Gojo wanted to hold your hand really bad.
It was nearly Christmas week, so most of the students were preparing their luggages or at least talking about going home. He wondered if whatever was going on with you was so bad at all.
You easily evaded his question, as usual. “I don’t really go home. We don’t really celebrate occasions.”
Gojo left it at that, sensing your unease. Still, he managed to do something for you: he stayed with you on campus during holidays.
Every single holiday. Without fail.
Gojo never let you feel alone. And asked for nothing in return.
six months later.
Gojo managed to get you out on a date. (Even if you thought he meant it as a joke.)
All throughout the movie, Gojo kept glancing sideways at you. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought you to see a sad, tug-at-your-heartstrings movie. That was the second time he ever saw you crying. You masked it well, stifling your tears, being all quiet about it as you ate your nachos.
You didn’t even wipe them away. You didn’t want anything to give away the fact that you’re crying. Gojo didn’t know why.
Everything he gathered about you for the past six months only made him want to know you more.
You were smart, always attentive in class, making every second count. You were gentle, never speaking bad about others even if you knew they were talking behind your back. You were hardworking, always spending most of your weekends working part time somewhere to make some extra money.
Gojo admired you. He was falling deep for you.
a little over a year later.
It was time for the New Year. This time, Gojo’s parents weren’t taking no for an answer.
“You haven’t been home for over a year, Satoru.”
“Get back home, or we’ll have to rethink our plans for the company.”
Now, Gojo wasn’t particularly interested in the company. It was just a failsafe. Still, he gathered it might be useful, especially if he was thinking of giving you an easier life, so he made compromises.
“Can I bring a friend?”
They weren’t happy about it, because special occasions were usually just an affair for the Gojos—family only, but they relented.
“Fine, just one.”
(Thanks to that, several others brought their own plus ones, making it more than merry this year.)
Convincing his parents was one thing, convincing you was harder. For some reason, you insisted on not coming along. (You didn’t disclose why.) However, Gojo isn’t a Gojo for no reason. He was particularly persuasive. (Meaning, he pouted and whined and used his friendship card until you caved in.)
“Why won’t you just leave me alone for the holidays?” You meant purely out of curiosity, not offence. Never combative, not with Gojo.
He didn’t know. Maybe it was something about how sad people particularly get around the holidays.
So when the day finally came around, Gojo had successfully gotten you with him through his family mansion’s large double mahogany doors. (He didn’t miss it one bit.) You were wearing a Dior velvet black dress that Gojo got you (and forced you to accept), and you were glad you did, because everyone in reception were dressed like they were each the richest person in the city.
Gojo’s parents only ever introduced themselves once before making time for other guests. They didn’t dislike you, they just had no particular interest. To them, it seemed like you were no more than a passing whim.
Not that it mattered to you anyway.
“Is this usually how the Gojos party?”
He noticed you looked out of place, feet shuffling slightly in position, and he automatically looped an arm around you. He didn’t want you to be nervous; you were gorgeous and people should see you smile—you had a dazzling one.
“Yep, all grand and boring,” he mocked, and you snorted, because that was exactly the kind of reply you expected from him.
Gojo never really complained about his family or his life, but you always got the sense that he hated it somehow. Call it a sixth sense.
The entire night was spent in each other’s company. No socialising nonsense. Gojo just wanted you. All your time, all your attention. No idea why, just craved it. He felt like you were basking in it too, and he loved it.
“Are you sure you don’t need to be back with your parents?” Gojo dared to ask. If your situation was anything like what he heard, he just wanted to know where your head was at with regards to your family.
You put down the glass of champagne and stay silent, and your head was facing the ground so Gojo couldn’t even tell what your expression was. He was uneasy, nearly telling you to ignore him, but then he heard you.
“They’re dead.”
It took Gojo all of five seconds to decide that this—a functional hall inside a very large mansion—was not a place fit for this kind of talk. It took him another couple of minutes to get you outside, into the grand Gojo Winter Garden. (Gojo hated how everything within the compound had a name.)
“What happened?”
It took you a while to respond. You hadn’t ever actually spoken about it to anyone before. Mainly because up until that happened, you had found out that instead of best friends, you had been surrounded by people who merely wanted your status and the benefits it brought them. The moment that happened, you had been abandoned by everyone. Completely.
That was the night Gojo Satoru learned of what had happened to your family. A chilling murder-suicide carried out by your father when his company tanked and he had gone insane, thinking his wife would abandon him and take his daughter with her. A carefully premeditated situation which would have ended in the whole family’s massacre if you hadn’t had to help with an errand at the last minute.
In a way, he sensed that you blamed yourself for it somehow. Like you should’ve died. Preposterous.
Gojo also learned that you had found it difficult to deal with the rumors at first, choosing distancing as the safest option. If you didn’t care about those who were spreading or hearing the rumors, it would be better for you. He didn’t find it so surprising then, that people had their opinions about you.
You wanted those rumors, to a certain extent. You didn’t want to have to deal with the disappointment of being left behind again the moment people found out what really happened.
You had been on your own since then. It was easier to stay that way than to let someone else in again. Just caring for yourself was easy.
“So why are you telling me all of this now? Not afraid I’ll abandon you too?” Gojo asked. It was purely just curiosity tugging at him. You were always heavily guarded, like you had an infinity between you that he couldn’t quite get through; in some ways, you reminded him of himself.
He kept his eyes on you, and only you. Like he had been the entire night. Like he had been the entire year. Gojo Satoru found you special. As if you were a treasure, a priceless artifact that he didn’t want to let out of his sight.
Most times, you didn’t notice him staring.
That night, you did.
And you couldn’t describe how it made you feel. Partly because you’d never thought you’d feel comfortable enough with anyone to tell them about all the graphic details. Partly because Gojo Satoru was looking at you with his beautiful beautiful eyes, like he saw everything inside you, like he was studying you. Partly because maybe, after sticking with you for so long, you started to feel your shreds of affection for him start to grow.
“I am afraid,” you told him honestly, the cards you held in your chest starting to unravel. Were you brave enough to admit it to him?
“But?”
How could you keep hiding it when he kept looking at you like that? So soft, so gentle, a stark contrast to the rest of the world? Would you ever find someone like that again? Would you even want to, when Gojo Satoru existed and he was right in front of you?
“But…” you took a deep breath, unable to meet his gaze, averting to look at the freshly-cut grass below your heels. “I don’t want to keep hiding myself in front of the one I like.”
Gojo felt his heart doing turns inside him. He was upset with how badly your cards had been dealt, but then he heard your confession, as good as, and felt like he could cartwheel over the moon right now. How exactly was he supposed to respond to you now? There were many things he wanted to tell you, about how he thought you shouldn’t blame yourself, about how you should have given yourself more credit, about how he felt the same as you, about how he felt his own guilt pile up after his best friend died and he wanted to share it with you and only you and no one else.
There were too many things to put into words, so Gojo didn’t.
Instead, he took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you, his eyes never leaving yours as he tilted your chin up. He wanted you to look at him too, for you to see that he would be there for you no matter what.
He sure as hell wouldn’t ever let you think otherwise. Ever.
There were tears forming in the corner of your eyes. Gojo found it endearing, actually, that something he thought was a small step felt so big for you. It made him even prouder of you for being able to talk about it.
When the distance closed even further, the both of you closed your eyes, Gojo’s long white lashes clashing against yours at the same time his mouth did. His lips were soft, and gentle, like you could feel the person he was through his lips alone. He tasted sweet, from all the cakes he snacked on earlier, and he was greedy too, his hand falling from your chin to your waist, pulling you in as if you weren’t close enough.
Gojo couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. Your hand pulled at the sleeve of his expensive coat, the only form of support you could find before your knees threatened to buckle under.
Reluctantly, Gojo pulled away after a while, the two of you so engrossed in each other that you paid whoever else was visiting the garden no mind. Out of breath and panting, kiss-swollen lips; Gojo loved seeing you like that. He pressed his forehead to yours, chuckling as the both of you tried to catch your breath.
“Y/N, I really like you too.”
You chuckled, and Gojo wanted to imprint that laugh in his brain forever. Not that he needed to, because you’d keep letting him hear it, again and again and again.
“I like you so much, Gojo Satoru.” That whisper against his lip, your palm on his cheek. You were addictive as always.
That was enough to drive him crazy. Did you even know how badly Gojo wanted to do this? Be close to you? Kiss you? Hold you in his arms? It was insane enough to him that he felt an instant connection, but without you showing any reciprocation, he thought it was just his delusions.
Now you were proving it wasn’t just hallucinations or something he cooked up in his head. It was real.
And someday, he might be as brave as you and tell you the real truth behind those rumors. One day, you’d understand why Gojo felt you were both similar.
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane, Y/N,” he muttered breathily against your lips, the both of you still giddy over the kiss that finally happened. “Be my girlfriend?”
03: gojo satoru, the first boy you ever loved (and who really loved you)
It was a given, of course, that once the all-rich, all-powerful, all-handsome Gojo Satoru got a girlfriend, the both of you would become the talk of the entire school. What more, with the both of you having sketchy rumors flying around the school.
“Oh my god, did you hear? Gojo and Y/N got together over New Year’s!”
“Those two? What the fuck!”
“Yeah, two people with sketchy pasts, figures.”
“Guess the rich only date the rich.”
“Or ex-riches, haha!”
Satoru found it relieving that you weren’t one to let the gossip get to you. He would like to take full credit, liked to think that your daily happiness now were all thanks to him. (Of course he knew you had a part to play as well, but men can dream too.)
Little did he know, you? You did think it was all him.
Before Gojo Satoru came into your life, it felt bland. All black and white and red, reminding you of the scene you walked in on when you got back home with your groceries in hand. Your poor father, who had gone insane and would never be forgiven by you. Your poor mother, who had realised what her husband was up to and convinced her daughter to run to the grocery store on a long grocery run. She had deemed it better her daughter to end up shouldering the debts of her father instead of dying together with them.
Both their bodies on the floor, limp and bloodied.
Given your parents’ good relations to the various news outlets, it was never publicised. Just gone under the radar like your family never existed, swept under the rug because your family business was never flashy. Nothing newsworthy.
For a while, you’d forgotten how life was really like. Every penny you ever had given to repay the debt. You still had a shortfall then, so you worked your butt off doing odd jobs. It was fine, being made fun of by people, everyone pointing fingers saying look at that rich girl, fallen from grace.
It was fine.
It only took you till your second year, working in the bar, to finally pay everything off. It was just that afterwards, you were left to your own devices, nothing but studies to occupy you.
It was fine.
It wasn’t like you thought of them every waking moment you weren’t occupied. You totally didn’t. Especially when you had no roommates on campus.
Maybe heaven was finally looking down on you, the day they brought Gojo Satoru into your life. Maybe at first, you didn’t really think you wanted to pay attention to him. But it was hard. Especially when he started following you around, when all you wanted was to be alone.
Or rather, what you thought you wanted.
But then, you saw what it was like to be loved by Gojo Satoru, and you didn’t think you could ever go back to before that. How could you, when he constantly made you feel like the most special person in the world? When he constantly made sure everytime you needed him, he’d be there?
Being loved by Satoru made you feel whole again.
It was like the sad classical violin finally gave way to the piano with higher tempo.
Morning to night, Satoru never stopped making you feel loved.
He might just be the most thoughtful man you’d ever met.
It was always something.
“Hey, got you these from the bakery. Your favourite, right?” He had held up a plastic bag, indeed filled with your favourite.
Another time, he had asked you how your prelims went, and it sucked, and he dropped whatever he was doing just to spend time with you, made sure you were okay and smiling again. “Anytime you’re down, I’m here for you, m’kay stupid?” And you laughed, because you knew he meant it affectionately.
And even during the not-so-happy parts, Satoru never gives up. When you’d flare up for no reason because being at your parents’ house just had that effect on you.
“Y/N,” he had called your name softly through the wooden door, because you had just locked yourself inside your parents’ room.
Satoru never raised his voice at you. Not once.
“I know it’s tough… so if you don’t wanna do it, I won’t force you,” Satoru told you softly, as if he was the one forcing you to clear out all of your parents’ old stuff. As if he understood you, understood the small tantrum you just had.
Figured that it would come to this, with no one paying for it and no one living in it.
You grew up here, but you ultimately had to escape from here. There were still some stains on the wooden floorboards. Red and haunting. You were sure your mother wouldn’t want to see you like this.
You unlocked the door, letting Satoru in, letting him see the tears and the puffiness and the ugliness. (Satoru never thought of you that way.)
“I’m s-sor-” you couldn’t even get the words out before you became a sobbing mess. Your head was filled of your parents and of regret and of the nagging feeling that because you didn’t die back then that something in your life would go wrong and you didn’t want that. Especially not when Satoru was in it.
Satoru didn’t say much, only held you against his chest, fluffy white hair falling over your own. “Shhh, I know, baby, I know.”
You did end up clearing it out. Because the only other alternative was Satoru buying the place for you, but it made no sense. It was just a past you were selfishly holding onto. It served no purpose.
So you let it go.
Besides, with Satoru in your life, you didn’t feel as lost anymore. You felt like you could move forward. You felt unafraid.
“Hey, baby, missed me?” That was always what Satoru liked to say whenever you didn’t meet for two, three days. And you’d always tell him that you still texted so it wasn’t that bad. And he’d pout, and you’d kiss him and it’d all be better because he was by your side again.
“These finals are annoying,” Satoru whined, laying next to you on your bed, in your too-small dorm room.
You chuckled, fingers playing with his white tresses, eyes admiring his own. “Why? Because we can’t spend time together that often?”
“Bingo!”
He was rather clingy, not that you minded. You liked it. He hugged you then, pulling you flush against him. There were no lights on, just the dim sliver of moonlight between the holes in the blinds.
Satoru was so so pretty. He looked even prettier like this, as if eyes glazed over, staring at you. His breath was shallow, but his heartbeats were fast. You could feel it against your chest.
“I love you, Y/N,” Satoru declared, softly, like it was a secret meant only for your atoms to hear.
You smiled, hearing it from him for the first time. “I love you too, Satoru.”
He couldn’t hold back anymore by then, lips pressed against yours in a hungry fervor. He shifted so that he ended up hovering over you, daring to grind his dick against you, coaxing a salacious moan out of you. It sounded so sinful that Satoru nearly felt bad, as if everything was going too fast.
“I want you, Satoru,” you whined against his kiss, and that was all he needed to keep going.
It seemed all too quick, the way your clothes got pulled off your body. Satoru’s too. Your eyes dragged over his body as he hovered over you, every inch of his chiseled abs and soft skin absolutely captivating. He was more than beautiful, more than you could ever put into words.
And that night, he was all yours. If anybody asked you, you could remember just exactly how warm he felt inside you, how lovingly he gazed at you, how sinful he was with his tongue against your pussy, how he grunted as he came inside you.
He slumped down beside you after that, after helping you clean up and put your clothes back on. He was panting, and so were you, and you both sort of laughed weakly when you thought back to what had just transpired.
“Can’t believe you came inside me, Satoru,” you half-chided. You didn’t mind. Not a single bit. Not when it was Satoru.
He chuckled, pinching your cheek with his thumb and index finger, turning to face you, soft white tresses falling over his eyes but even they could never hide the light behind them. “Trust me, Y/N, if I could, I’d do that all the time.”
Rolling your eyes, you shifted to lean up on your elbows, brows raised at your boyfriend. “Yeah? Even if that meant having a baby?”
Satoru didn’t miss a beat in answering you.
“Little mini me-and-yous running around in our dream house? Can’t imagine a better life, honestly.” And you never doubted that those were his true feelings.
You could always feel the love Satoru had for you exuding out of him all the time. It was rare, it was abundant, and it was only possible because it was Gojo Satoru.
And you knew then that you were done. That you’d found the most precious thing in life.
That for forever, you’d love Gojo Satoru until the day you die.
04: promises, and the future, and everything in between
Satoru was an enigma. Unique. One of a kind.
His love was even more so.
After graduating from college (of which the both of you got first-class honors, with Satoru clinching the top of the cohort), Satoru pursued a life with you endlessly.
Discussions were more centred around what you both saw in your future, about what you wanted out of it. Given, you had a fleeting thought that Satoru didn’t really need to; he could choose to do anything if he wanted to. He had the means, the connections.
“I don’t really like exploiting that,” Satoru told you, long legs stretched out before him as he leaned back against his computer chair.
The both of you were idling around in his house, choosing the library (yes, their own library) as your hiding spot from prying eyes. It was grand and empty and useless, as Satoru liked to say about the many rooms in his mansion.
“Can I ask you something, ‘Toru?”
Satoru donned the sweetest smile ever, tilting his head to look at you, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of those pair of crystalline blues looking at you. “Mhm?”
“What do you want to do?”
It took him a long pause before answering. Mainly because nobody in his family had ever bothered asking that simple question. They always assumed.
Assumed that he’d take over the family business. Assumed that he’d be happy too. Assumed that he wouldn’t want anything else but an easy life.
It wasn’t that Satoru had no faith in you. It was just that he didn’t think anyone would think otherwise. He’d gotten used to assumptions and life all planned out for him. That question never came up in his head at all except for that one time he wished for a different life.
He was sick of being a cog in this machine. Maybe in a different environment, he’d think otherwise.
“If I had a choice… probably something in education.” Because something about growing up in the household he was raised in, something about how he remembered his best friend losing his mind to how society worked, something about seeing everyone else in his cohort be reduced to nothing but pawns of the generation before didn’t sit right with him.
If he had a chance to do something about it, at the point where most people are easily influenced in their lives, then why not?
You nodded, and Satoru felt his heart skip a beat. You were wearing a smile, a beautiful one with those faraway eyes. Usually, such whims of his were met with disdain, with a glare from his mother and a lecture from his father. Apart from his best friend… well, you were the only other one who took him seriously.
“I can’t wait to see that happen, Gojo-sensei,” you whispered as you leaned in towards him, and Satoru didn’t know how to explain the feeling, but it was as if you were the biggest tidal wave in history, overwriting the world Satoru grew in, bulldozing the skyscrapers and creating a horizon where he could actually see the sun.
That was the only push he needed to pursue what he wanted.
“And what about you? What were you thinking of going into?” A question he never really knew how to bring up, considering what he knew of your parents.
It felt foolish now, his hesitance.
You leaned back against the chair, head tilting up toward the ceiling, thinking. “Probably in a nonprofit, lame right?” you chuckled.
“Think that’s sorta perfect for you, actually,” Satoru offered his opinion. It was just like you, helping people. Like him, wanting to.
You already helped him out of more than you knew. Without even knowing the story. Without even knowing how badly Gojo Satoru wanted to kill himself a few years ago. Without knowing how close you came to a world without him.
Now it was his job to ensure you stayed happy in this world. He’d make you happy, make you his forever, make you a home in the Gojo family minus all the trauma it came with.
“Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the entire place,” Satoru suddenly said, out of nowhere. Confused as you were, you followed him anyway, played along. One of the things he liked about you; you were so easygoing. No questions, no fuss, just trusted him.
For the next twenty minutes, you wandered around the abnormally huge mansion, walking into and through rooms you didn’t even know existed. Like formal boardrooms (in a house, really?), an archive room with what seems like generations worth of information, and even a boring room, as Satoru called it, which you later come to find out was their family’s super high-security private server room.
“Thanks for the tour, but remind me again why I should see all these?” You asked your boyfriend, leaning back against the railing outside of the panic room he just showed you, amused by the way he was so interested in bringing you into every aspect of his life, even the rooms you thought you’d probably remember only for the next few weeks before letting it fade into oblivion. It wasn’t like Satoru wanted anything to do with this mansion anyway.
Satoru grinned, all up in your face. “Why not? You’re gonna need to know your way around the house when you marry me.”
Your heart probably skipped five beats, and you could feel the heat rush up to your cheeks. If it was Satoru, you would honestly say yes in a heartbeat. Still, you played coy, whirling your head away from him.
“Only if I say yes,” you playfully chided, and Satoru’s faith never even wavered. He was sure of your future with him just as sure as he was about his love for you.
Your eyes landed on a lonely hallway, tucked away behind the corner around Satoru’s room. It was a sharp turn with a narrow corridor, not a place you’d usually see in view. It was just obscure enough to earn your attention.
“What’s in there?” you asked, and you noticed the painfully long pause.
Turning around, for once you saw Satoru’s speechless face. Those eyes you loved so much seemingly lost their spark, his mouth fell slightly open like he was going to say something but stopped himself. And, ever so slightly, you could see his fingers twitch against the wooden railings that lined this corridor.
Slowly, you placed your hand over his, the warmth snapping him back to reality with you, transferring into his eyes as he shook himself out of it.
“We don’t have to—”
“I’ll show you,” Satoru interjected, pulling you with him by the fingers.
He walked into the corridor, leading you in slowly. He never turned around to look at you, like he didn’t want you to see his face, see his eyes wavering for once.
“It belonged to someone very special to me,” Satoru told you, his voice sounding a lot smaller than it was around the other parts of the mansion. “I haven’t been in there in a while.”
It took you a while to realise what he meant.
Satoru opened the last door at the end of the hallway. He used a key kept in his pocket. You wonder if he always kept it there.
When he swung the door open gently, you had a fleeting thought wondering if Satoru had trouble letting go of things.
Inside, it seemed deceivingly mundane.
Aside from the fact everything inside looked like it had been untouched for months, it seemed like any other normal lived-in room in the house. Just as grand, as big.
Slowly, carefully, you stepped in after Satoru. The only thing that was off about the room was simply how dusty it was. It wasn’t bad, but you could see the little specks of dust flying about, as if the room hadn’t been touched at all in a while. Boxes were strewn in the far corner of the room, like someone was packing and left halfway. It was hard to take a glimpse at what was inside them, the curtains in the room all folded shut.
Satoru didn’t say anything; just let you observe.
You walked towards the study table, looking at the open notebook, flipping slowly through the pages. It was just notes of lectures, if you had to guess. Neat handwriting lining the pages, highlighters and markers used to bits. Whoever the owner of it was, you thought you could probably have taken some pointers from them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a framed photo sitting on the edge of the table. It was small, didn’t command attention—was just quietly sitting there unassumingly.
In the photo was your boyfriend, and beside him was another boy. Raven hair, charming smile, Satoru’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Was this something that didn’t end well?
“Who is he?” you asked Satoru as you carefully picked up the photo. It was weird; you knew Satoru so well and yet this smile he wore in the photo seemed like you never saw it at all. Like it was something that was quite possibly lost with the person he was with.
Another thing you never heard before? The softness in Satoru’s voice when he spoke of him.
“He was my one and only best friend in the world.”
Satoru had spoken softly to you before. Endlessly. In public, in private, when the two of you were tangled up in bed. This one had a different ring to it, though.
And you weren’t sure what to say, because it seemed like such an intimate or private affair that it made you feel like you didn’t want to intrude.
“Geto Suguru.” Satoru spoke his name, making his way over to you and looking at the photo with you. And you didn’t think that his pretty eyes have ever looked so sad.
That name rung a bell. And suddenly you could understand why Satoru seemed so desolate. If he was who Satoru said he was, then maybe it wasn’t such a stretch to think that Satoru was lonely when he first met you.
“Geto Suguru…” you murmured, recalling the article. “The one who got run over by that truck on the highway a few years ago?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
The drunk driver. The midnight accident. The unidentifiable remains of the boy who got hit. No witnesses. Just tragedy.
Satoru chuckled mirthlessly. He looked away from you, his expression lonelier than ever. You didn’t know what to say, really. You of all people knew that such a thing didn’t have any words of consolation. Nothing would make Satoru feel better.
“I was there.”
You didn’t expect to learn more about it, you expected Satoru to dismiss it, not want to talk about it. But he did, and in a few minutes you understood why.
Guilt.
It weighed extremely heavily on Satoru. The weight of what happened, the guilt of feeling like it was his fault.
Satoru told you the true account of what happened.
How he used to hang around bad company. How Suguru was the one to always bring him back to the ground. How he fucked up because one of those bad company stole some sensitive information from his private server room. How Satoru had whined to Suguru to come pick him up from a club that night because he got so fucked up because of it. How Suguru told him to just get a cab but Satoru playfully vetoed. How Suguru’s car broke down after he had picked him up. How Suguru told him to stay in the car, idiot and I don’t wanna have to carry your dead body back to your parents.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Satoru muttered bitterly.
You stayed quiet. More often than not, in these situations, the person just needed to get their thoughts out. You knew somewhat how it felt like anyway.
Then you found out more.
How Suguru was at the hood of the car looking at something. How Satoru had his head out the window staring at the sky. How a drunk truck driver blared the horns as if it was any use because somehow he’d managed to hit Suguru dead-on even after trying to avoid the car.
How Satoru escaped with serious injuries that were now fully healed somehow and yet his best friend got blasted into nothing. All Satoru could do that night was kneel down by the roadside, screaming his lungs out until the police came.
Just barely a year into college. You didn’t doubt the immense amount of pain Satoru must have felt. You could tell too, when he told you just how often he visited his best friend’s grave.
“I tell him about you all the time, he would’ve liked you a lot too,” Satoru said, with a kind of yearning that was saved solely for Geto Suguru. “Told him if I didn’t find you I’d probably have gone crazy.”
And you knew that Mr and Mrs Gojo were less empathic than most. You already knew that, but to hear that all they did after Satoru told them what happened was to make sure their name stayed out of the paper, to hear that they only reminded him to not let this affect his finals—it made you angry.
You somehow knew that Satoru always felt alone somehow. Like as if there was this vacuum shielding him from the rest of the world, like there was an infinity he activated to prevent anything from reaching him, and now you knew why.
All you could do was lean in closer, hold his hand, let him pull you in as though he put up the infinity for everyone but you.
And Satoru couldn’t put it into words how much he appreciated you, your silence. The way you let him get it all out without interrupting him with pointless words like it wasn’t your fault or he’d be happy you’re alive. The way you’re just there.
You were his person. Then, and always, and he knew already, even from way before, that it was only going to be you.
That was why the morning after, Satoru immediately went to get a bespoke ring. That was why he chased them to get it done faster. That was why he managed to get it done two months later.
Satoru just couldn’t wait to marry you.
“It’s just like that night we met, isn’t it?” you ask, and his heart is already pounding wildly in his chest.
You’re beautiful, so beautiful. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier, doesn’t think he ever will. It’s you. Just you.
He doesn’t need to think. Doesn’t need to second guess anything. Everything comes easy with you.
So easy. So pretty. Just you.
“Y/N, will you marry me?” He hasn’t been able to contain himself for the past hour you’ve been out.
And when you say yes, Satoru finds that he can’t wait for the rest of your lives.
05: the all-having mr gojo satoru
The day you walk down the aisle, Satoru thinks he’s ascended to heaven. If just the thought of you being his wife, being Mrs Gojo, of him being Mr L/N, isn’t enough? Seeing you in that beautiful wedding gown probably might do him in.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
Satoru can’t wait to marry you. Nearly asks the priest to hurry the fuck up but he can’t even speak because he’s so speechless looking at how pretty his future wife is right now.
He just keeps staring. In awe. As if he isn’t the only man you know who’s in his own league in terms of how handsome he is.
He keeps staring, appreciating silently, even during your first dance. He keeps whispering can’t believe you’re my wife into your ear, keeps telling you i’ll love you forever and ever, baby.
You don’t need anything else. You feel full. Like the part of you that wasn’t whole has healed. But it doesn’t stop you from craving more. Neither can Satoru.
He tells you so, that night when you’re both finally sick of the celebrations (mostly done to satiate his parents) and escaped to your room. Hands are never off each other, Satoru already having removed your panties in the elevator. Fuck whoever’s watching, he’ll make do with it, he can’t wait.
His long fingers find your clit under your dress, pads of his fingers rubbing circles on your most sensitive area. As if you’re not already high off of the fact that he’s whispering all sorts of dirty things in your ear.
“Ah- Satoru-” your whine cuts off when he kisses you, the both of you giggling into each other’s mouths as you clumsily stumble into the hotel suite somehow. Presidential, because there’s nothing more fitting.
“Fuckfuckfuck, baby baby, shit ‘m gonna cum inside you at this rate-” Satoru burbles just minutes later when he’s got you folded under him, watching as his cock slides in and out of your hungry cunt.
You force your eyes open for just a second, locking gazes with him before you grin. “Just cum inside me, husband,” you tease.
And you wholeheartedly just meant it as a joke, as a way to just fluster Satoru, but you come to learn that when it comes to you, his self-control ceases to exist.
The next second, he’s spurting thick hot ropes of his cum inside your gummy walls, the tip of his cock hitting your spot, your body twitching under him as the both of you ride through your highs.
Satoru just stares as his cum pools out of your pussy, licking his lips shamelessly as his thumbs plays along your wet folds, a careful overstimulation, your body jerking with each movement of his finger.
Both of you joke about the possibility of you being parents way too quickly.
(You think you wouldn’t mind if you did. Having little mini versions of you and Satoru was already in your life plan.)
“Satoru, would you want kids?”
Both of you are showered and clean and way too exhausted and this is probably the last question that either of your brains can focus on.
“Of course! Maybe you could give me a soccer team while we’re at it,” Satoru winks, earning a playful shove from you. “Okay okay! In all seriousness… yeah. Maybe one or two, probably two. Give ‘em some company, y’know? And we’d probably have to baby proof our house somehow by then-”
And as Satoru continues to ramble on about future plans with the kids in the picture, saying ridiculous things like hey you gotta still love me too even when they come, okay? and being a perfect husband already, you find yourself mesmerized, hypnotized.
It’s you and Satoru. Satoru and you.
“I love you, Y/N, forever and ever.”
For the rest of your lives.
“I’ll love you, Gojo Satoru, until the day I die.”
And you can’t think of anything better.
marriage: day six.
Satoru already has a routine.
Wake up at six-thirty, make coffee and breakfast for two, get ready for work. An hour later, you’d drive to work together.
He’s managed to land a role as a grade school teacher, and you couldn’t be prouder. You work with him too, as the school counselor.
He’ll wait for you to end work, or vice versa, and then you take turns deciding what’s for dinner before you spend some time relaxing together before the next day.
marriage: month two.
“Hey Y/N, you love me, right?”
You roll your eyes at him, tossing his marshmallows back at him as you push the grocery cart around him. “Of course, Satoru, but we’ve still got three packs of those at home.”
He’s pouting and purposely annoying you but he’s cute about it so you guess he gets a pass. (You still deny him the extra marshmallows.)
Lately, life is peaceful, happy. You can’t help thinking that this is all you need.
Grocery runs with Satoru. Brainstorming for the students at work. Planning your finances with your husband, a version with and without kids. Waking up in the morning seeing his soft white hair and those clear blue eyes. Feeling his warmth as you go to sleep at night knowing you’re safe.
The tip of the iceberg must be hearing his whispered I love you so much at night, his voice raspy and full of exhaustion yet he always makes sure he says it. Can’t go a day without making sure you know it right before you sleep.
You say it back to him all the time.
You like to think it’s his favourite part of the day too.
marriage: month seven.
“He seems off these days.”
Satoru started to tell you about one of the kids in his classes recently. A little boy named Masataka Rui. Playful kid turned timid.
“Do you want me to try talking to him? I could try to help him if I can.”
Satoru smiles, and so you do.
What you find out isn’t so pleasant. It’s no wonder Satoru’s been worried for Rui lately. Out of everyone else, you’d probably relate to his situation the most.
His father recently lost his job. Fired because of a mistake. His mother used to just be a housewife, with what seems like little transferable skills to the normal workforce. That, plus the stress of having to pay for Rui’s education, on top of having to put plate on the food for the entire family, must have pushed his father near the edge.
From what you hear, it sounds like his father takes his frustration out on him. Scolding him more often lately, shouting at his mother. It’s not hard to guess why Rui likes leaving school a little later than usual.
And maybe it’s because you relate to him that you try hard. Do more than you should. Satoru understands that, and so he lets you.
You don’t want him to end up having to experience something like you did.
06: the day you lose gojo satoru forever
“I’m so tired today. How about we just do a cup noodle night?”
Satoru immediately starts picking out a flavour from the ramen aisle at your suggestion. He’s tired too. Being a teacher is more long hours and never enough time and always concerned for the kids.
Kids like Rui especially.
“How’s Rui doing in classes?” you ask, remembering that he lives somewhere around the area too. He’s been a little less willing to talk lately, and it’s concerning.
Satoru sighs, shrugging. “He seems to do fine with assignments, but he’s still just not… himself.” And Satoru really shouldn’t feel any guilt for not being able to solve somebody else’s problems, but that doesn’t stop him from playing ball games with Rui after classes, doesn’t stop him from giving him extra pointers for different subjects.
It takes time. You know that. Still, you can’t help it either, you feel yourself wanting to help him as fast as possible.
And you think you’ve gone crazy later, when you’re both paying at the counter and you see Rui outside on the road, walking with slightly tattered clothes. You instinctively find yourself running out of the store towards him—a child shouldn’t be walking by the road by himself at 10pm on a school night.
But you feel a warm hand around your wrist pull you back right as you reach the entrance of the store.
Satoru sees him too.
He passes you the bag filled with your dinner plans, giving you a kiss on the temple, ruffling your hair. “He’s my student, let me try to handle it, okay?” He’s right; probably not a good idea for two adults to approach him at once and scare him off.
You leave it to Satoru to handle.
Satoru’s good at it too, from where you’re standing at a distance and watching. Rui’s crying, but Satoru wipes his tears away, and whatever Satoru is saying to him makes him laugh a little, which is a very good sign. You smile to yourself, being selfish for a little while and imagining if that were Satoru with your kid.
Maybe one day. Maybe soon. Maybe later you’ll tell Satoru that you want to try having a baby, building a family now. That you can’t wait.
That forever has already started and you really want to make the most of your time with him.
Satoru’s ruffling the kid’s hair and extending a hand out to him, which Rui hesitantly takes, before Satoru slowly stands up. Rui follows his line of sight and sees you, timidly waving his hand and you wave back. Satoru whispers something into Rui’s ear, which you presume should be something along the lines of we’ll go over to see Mrs Gojo okay? to which Rui nods.
And for a moment, everything seems like it was going to be okay.
Yeah, just for a moment.
Right before you see a strong flash of light. Right before you see Rui screaming and Satoru shielding him.
Your legs are trembling. You try to move.
But everything happens so fast.
There’s a loud blaring horn.
And suddenly, your whole world’s taken from you.
The next day’s headline is one you skip.
FORMER HEIR OF GOJO CORP DIES WHILE PROTECTING STUDENT
07: the rest of your life
“Hey, Satoru! Missed me?”
Every week, it’s the same routine.
You giggle. You muster up the strength to be as cheerful as you can. You put on a brave face for… no one in particular.
“Rui’s doing better now. His physiotherapy is going well, and the doctor says it’ll be a while before he can walk properly but that there’s still hope.”
It’s been a month since the accident.
You lean against the headstone you’re talking to. The one that lies next to Geto Suguru. As he would’ve wanted.
“I’m doing…” you swallow the lump in your throat, force down the tears you swore you wouldn’t shed today. “Fine,” you finish your sentence.
You’re not. But it’s not like Satoru can fault you for lying.
“Today I tried to make our favourite breakfast, can’t get the damn recipe right,” you chuckle bitterly, feeling the tears coming. “I can’t do it how you did it,” you add softly, under your breath, so soft barely you yourself can hear it.
There’s been a hole in your soul after Satoru died. It was abrupt, and painful, and unfair—but that’s often how life is. You’re just the unlucky one, the one who got robbed. So is—was—Satoru.
You often wished you went with him.
During his funeral, you were inconsolable. You still are. Just that you were a little more loud about it then. You had been wailing and sobbing all night and day. Eventually you had to stop or your body would probably get dehydrated and shrivel up, to which you’d probably have no objections to.
But you can only think that Satoru would. Satoru would mind. And then you find yourself reluctantly taking care of yourself.
Everyday, you come home to an empty house, most of Satoru’s belongings untouched. Your wedding photo hangs on the living room corridor, and you look at it everyday. And it’s unhygienic, but you haven’t changed the sheets since the last night Satoru slept in it.
It’s your first go-to the moment you step through the doors.
And you know it’s pathetic, but sometimes you still make dinner for two. It started out a force of habit, something you couldn’t shake. You somehow hated it when you find you could shake it off. Now you willingly make an extra portion. Sometimes you take it and have a picnic next to what’s left of him.
The house is way too big for one person. His absence makes it all feel empty. Meaningless.
Extended bereavement leave can only do so much for you.
Every night ends the same. With you curled up on his side of the bed, wishing that the smell of him wouldn’t fade away, sobbing into the blankets, repeatedly saying things you wish he could hear, like I love you and I miss you and I can’t do this without you.
But you know Satoru will never hear those words. And sometimes you thank the heavens he can’t, because you must know how disappointed he’d feel if he heard you mutter some of your true thoughts late at night.
Please take me with you.
You’re not okay. And you think you probably never will be.
synopsis . After losing your precious attention to his dorkier twin brother Toru (nerdjo), Sato (fratjo) decides to take matters into his own hands by corrupting his brother into being more like him. Unfortunately for him, Toru’s too strong willed to fall for his tricks and Sato ends up being the one with quite the personality switch by the end of the night.
content . afab!reader, more porn with plot, attempted corruption, praise, eventual threesome, Sato causes a slight scene, partying, possessiveness, jealousy, pervertedness, humiliation kink, filth, begging, a whiny Sato, whimpering, dry humping, confessions, panty fucking, teasing, tit play, obsession, reverse cowgirl, degrading, dom!reader at times, crying, dacryphilia, edging/orgasm denial, pet names, mentions of panty stealing, cock stepping, overstim, dirty talk, Sato has a pain kink, slapping, drama, voyeurism, alcohol, drunk sex, squirting, frat!kuna & frat!geto appearances, dom!nerdjo, oral sex, semi-public sex, etc.
word count . 10.8k | author's note: banner art from here! the plot was inspired by a tiktok comment i saw under that same post btw!! this is technically a part two of this, but they can be read separately. lil’ teasing surprise at the end btw, hope u enjoy! ;)
In your defense for a second time, he begged for it to happen.
Sato Gojo was never one to do that. He was much too prideful and egotistical to ever let a lowly please slip from his perfectly rosed lips. Especially not towards you.
You were a mere fling—albeit his favorite—a warm body to sleep next to on the coldest nights, and a damn good fuck for when he needed one. That’s all Sato swore you were to him. Nothing more, and absolutely nothing less.
So, why did it irk him so much to constantly see you paying attention to anyone that wasn’t him? To the point where he spends all his time begging for just a sliver of it for himself…
——
Simply put: Sato is an idiot.
One tall, stupidly handsome, and annoying charming idiot.
For him to have spent so many months playing around with you and your feelings while subconsciously neglecting his own has got to be the dumbest thing he’s ever done in his life. And to make matters alarmingly worse, it took his brother stepping into the picture for him to realize all this.
You and Toru had a relationship Sato could only ever dream of having with you.
Toru was polite and sweet, the picture perfect boyfriend without even being your boyfriend. He always listened to you, cared for you in ways no other had, and brought you to unimaginable heights of pleasure time and time again.
All things of which Sato had many opportunities to do for you in the past but failed on one too many occasions. The straw that broke the camel’s back in your relationship with the frat brother was his whole obsession and ordeal with wanting to make you squirt without putting in the true effort it took to get you there.
Now it had been months since that took place but the memory of it all still bothered Sato to no end.
Especially since he had to live with the results of his wrongdoings every day.
Toru would parade about the Gojo household with the happiest expressions on his face, beaming about the smallest things you said or did. The elder twin by six seconds had to hear his nerdier sibling giggling wee hours into the night whilst on the phone with you, taking up all your time and attention.
Sato tried to go back to the way things were with you and text or call you over like nothing ever happened, but you were slowly making it quite clear that things were over between you both.
The cherry on top of it all had to be the days Toru invited you over and you’d show up promptly—the two of you disappearing into that dork’s bedroom for hours upon hours.
On those days, Sato would have his ear pressed up against the singular wall between he and Toru’s bedrooms. He hated how nosy he’d become over the past few months but could you blame him? He missed how things were.
Like, really missed it.
The muffled sound of your voice alone was enough to prompt a twitch from in between Sato’s legs. Sure, he had other women he could call to help him take care of the arising issue but none of them were you.
Your chuckles at whatever yapping fact Toru gave to you was all it took to have Sato’s hips adjusting themself. He missed being the one making you laugh, even though it happened only so often—considering he used to focus on getting moans out of you instead of sounds of amusement.
So now here he was, pathetically longing for a woman who his brother treats ten times better than he ever could.
Sato knows he fucked up, he knows he should apologize and just try to be better.
And yet, he doesn’t at all work towards doing any of that.
Instead, the only thing he works up is a plan for himself. One of which he was so very sure would work out for him.
The night this plan comes to forition is one where he’s listening to the sounds of you and Toru ravishing one another.
From start to finish, Sato had his ear pressed firmly against the wall so he wouldn’t miss a sound.
You came in Toru’s room needier than normal, Sato could hear it in the way you spoke to his brother—how Toru would stammer on his words with the way you’d press your body against him.
Even though Sato couldn’t see what was happening, he had good enough ears to hear and then picture what was taking place rather vividly.
“I thought you said you had a surprise for me?” Toru had squawked as awkwardly as ever, his tone uneven due to his rising nervousness.
You were sitting on top of him with your arms wrapped around his neck and your tits pressed neatly into his firm chest. “I do.” You whispered, pressing another soft kiss into his lips.
He cutely tries to push himself closer for more as your mouth draws away from him seconds after but he just barely misses. Batting those pretty blue eyes up at you from behind his glasses, “But, you didn’t bring a bag with you or anything. What kinda surprise is it?”
“You’re holding it, silly,” You purred before moving past his face and then down, peppering kisses into his jawline and then down to his neck.
“O-Oh,” Toru gulped and the hands he had resting against your hips suddenly grip the fabric of your shirt—well, his shirt that you so politely stole from him a few weeks ago.
He told you that you could keep it since he thought you looked pretty in it but, truth be told, he knew if you returned the shirt to him it’d just end up stuffed against his nose while he wrapped his fingers around his cock and got off to the scent of you.
Toru was quite the pervert, after all.
Which is another thing the twins seem to have in common aside from dashing looks. Along with their mutual obsession with you.
The shirt on your body is carefully adjusted as Toru’s fingers slip beneath the fabric to brush against your bare skin, steadily trailing up. Your lips are still at his neck and the moment he feels your tongue dart out, his hips unconsciously roll up.
You feel his cock hardening beneath you and instantly rock forwards to create some friction between you both. “You’re my surprise?” Toru whispers out shakily as his body gets increasingly hot from your touches.
He feels your lips curve against his neck as you smile, “C’mon, I thought you were supposed to be the smart twin?” You teased.
To which he let off a short huff and rolled his eyes, “I am the smart twin.” He argued, “Just… not when it comes to uh, this stuff.”
At the sound of that, you pull back so that you could meet eyes with him. “Toru you’re literally the only guy who’s ever made me squirt,” You remind him rather bluntly, watching as crimson flushes over his cheeks. One of your hands lift to run through the smooth whites of his hair and his head leans back with your touch, blue eyes lowering. “If you want your surprise, you’ll have to find it.”
He bats his lashes up at you and you slowly watch as that hidden confidence of his takes over within his expression. “Always making me work for things, huh?” Toru puffs.
Then, before you can quite respond, the grip he has on you tightens and he lifts you up in one fell swoop.
“Toru!” You gasp, trying to keep your legs wrapped around him for support as you go up into the air.
You’re tossed down onto the plush of his bed seconds later as if you didn’t weigh a thing and he makes you watch him drag his shirt up over his head flawlessly. And there it is again, those clean cut lines ‘n creases that are so perfectly bulked at his torso—all tight and defined in a way that damn sure doesn’t match the dorkish look he carries on his face all the time.
You’ve laid eyes on his abs more times than you can count by now but every time your brain stutters to process the sight. Where Sato was bulky in ways that he often showed off, Toru seemed to have this sleeper build that he kept hidden to most.
The details of your relationship was never clear—and it didn’t have to be—but he was only showing you this side of him.
His hands tenderly move to your legs and he pushes them apart to make room for himself. Slotting in between and hovering over you with his arms caging your head, “I thought about you all day, y’know,” Toru whispers. “Then you come over with a surprise for me. Do you even realize what that does to me?”
His eyes are hungry on yours, heavy hips slowly rolling down so you can feel the answer to his question through the weighty hardness of his dick. It’s already bulging against his sweats, leaking from the swollen pinkened head and waiting for even more of your attention.
Part of him worried that by the time he found this little surprise of yours, he’d have already came in his pants.
That happened rather often with you too. After crushing on you from afar for so long, it took him some time to adjust to having you in real life instead of in those nasty fantasies he had of you before.
Toru’s hand shuffles down in between your bodies to tug your (his) shirt up off of you, leaning back and then gaping at what lays beneath.
There’s a nasty dribble of precum building up against his tip in reaction to the sight of lacy blue hugging your tits. Your surprise for him was nothing more than lingerie in his favorite shade of blue.
“You spoil me,” He whispers, working that shirt further up and soon completely off your body.
Then he leans down to kiss at all your exposed skin before you could even respond. His lips were a wet mess against your neck, slipping down to your collarbone and leaving a slick trail of hickeys and love bites to silently claim you as his own.
He’d never tell you but he often tried to leave marks on you just for his twin brother to see. Toru wanted nothing more than for Sato to be jealous of his newfound relationship with you.
Especially since you told him that Sato was never allowed to leave such things across your body before. It was yet another thing that made Toru feel like he was the favored Gojo sibling.
Whether or not that was true remained unknown.
His kisses eventually met your collarbones as his hands tugged your bottoms down. Then his eyes flicked into that direction and he nearly came at the sinful reveal below him. The lingerie set you wore was a picture of perfection in his eyes.
It complimented your skin tone, highlighted your very best features, and made his cock twitch stupidly in excitement.
The exhale that falls from Toru’s lips sounded nothing short of feral, his brows twisting up as a soft whine from his throat follows shortly after.
He runs his fingers over the lace of your panties, tracing the delicate edges and shifting his positioning so that his hips could be flush with yours—his leaking bulge sneaking closer to press against your pussy lips.
Toru's always had an obsession with your panties. Even before when you were wrapped up in his asshole of a brother, he always found a pair of your panties lingering around somewhere in his room. You were unaware of it, of course, but the Gojo twins had been quite the panty thief for some time now.
Hooking a finger under your current pair, Toru draws an upward pull from the fabric and watches as it snugs against your cunt, creating the cutest outline as your puffy lips soak the lace.
“Fuck, that's hot,” He grunts as his brows twist up.
Then his hand leaves your body for a few seconds to remove the rest of his clothing, tugging his cock out and letting it hover over your pussy whilst you remained clad in your surprise set.
“Toru,” You murmured all pliantly.
His pupils nearly dilated from the sound alone, flying up to your face as he wrapped a hand around his cock. Toru stroked himself a couple times to your expression before he looked back down and furrowed his eyebrows.
This was a thing he did constantly whenever he focused on something. It was something you found oh-so-cute. You loved watching his lips push out ever so slightly as he let his attention fixate on something.
“I’m sure this was expensive,” He husked out, running a thick thumb down the center of your panties and noting how your hips faintly lift as if to guide his touch to where you want him.
The gesture makes his lips twitch.
Then he slowly tips his head to the side, “I don’t wanna ruin it.” Toru tells you while inching his bobbing cock forward. The feeling of his plump head glossing against your folds makes you flinch, “But I do wanna appreciate it—and you—properly.”
Toru takes his dick into his hands and swabs the tip up and down your slit, purposefully grinding forward whenever he gets up to your clit just to tease you. You let off a string of breathy moans in reaction and a dopey grin sprawls out at his lips.
Slowly, Toru lifts his cock and then slaps it back down against your cunt with soft taps, listening to the cute squelch that shyly rings out as he does so. You feel his stout head flick across your clit, swatting against the throbbing bundle of nerves just to earn more eager sounds out of your throat.
"Is this your way of appreciating both? By teasing me?" You ask with a pout tugged out across your lips.
Your words seem to go through one ear and out the other due to Toru's incapability of focusing on multiple things at once. It's hard when you're prettily soaking up a set you purchased and wore just for him. How is he meant to think straight at all?
Part of him wants to find a way to brag about this to his brother later but he knows he's too shy and humble to ever go do such a thing. At first glare from Sato, Toru would clam back up and probably forget about this whole thing.
The sound of his name being whispered and a hand poking at his leaky tip makes him snap out of his selfish thoughts, gaze finally rising to your face again. "H-Huh?" Toru squeaks.
You let your finger round his cockhead, collecting the precum that's resting there before moving your hand further down his length and adjusting your hips, "You zoned out on me. Do you not like—"
"I do," He cuts off, body relaxing under your touch as he sighs. The nerve of you to lay there and try to suggest something like that as if he wasn't seconds away from cumming on that gorgeous ass set of yours! "Sorry, I was uhm.. I was thinking about bragging about this to my brother."
"There won't be much to brag about if you keep that up." You huff.
His cock rudely slaps at your pussy, "Like hell there won't."
Happy to have him focused again, you smile up at the man and then watch as he hooks a long finger under the fabric of your panties—tugging them over to the side to reveal your soppy cunt. Toru gulps as if he hadn't seen it multiple times prior to this, letting the thick of his thumb greet your clit with a languid little roll.
You moan and he compliments that by taking his free hand to gather the rest of his cock into his palm, pushing forward and poking at your entrance just to feel how you throb around him. The feeling spurs him into teasing you more so he pulls your panties up and then thrusts.
A heightened gasp rings out of your mouth at the mean feel of nothing entering you. Toru had thrusted himself against your pussy instead of in, releasing the fabric he'd pulled to the side and instead moving his hands to your thighs to sprawl them further open.
"What are you-," Your words fall flat as you watch him—his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose a bit before his expression contorted into something purely sinful.
His cock slid back and forth against your folds, your slick having wet up everything in the area. Toru got breathy within a matter of seconds whilst you began to whine for him to slip inside you.
Ignoring you, he uses one of his hands to adjust your panties and pull it over his tip, quickly fucking himself into the fabric. You feel the weight of his shaft gliding over your clit in dizzying motions, every trailing vein felt twitching over you. The width of his dick causes your folds to sloppily part around him as his grinding causes a nasty slosh of arousal to echo out from in between the two of you.
"I told you," Toru pants, angling himself down closer to you. "I don't wanna ruin this since I know it's-, hahh, fuck... expensive." With his explanation comes a heavier roll of his hips and your face twists up with how stupidly good his cock feels teasing you.
"Then fuck me in it," You demand rather brattily. This attitude of yours wasn't one he was unfamiliar with. Hell, he's learned how to deal with it quite well over time.
Scoffing as his tone leaves with notable sarcasm, "That's not fair to the lingerie," Toru argues with a smirk on his face, his breath hitching at your pussy idly throbbing around nothing. It was almost dizzying how he could feel everything without being in you, "A-And I cum inside you all the time... Maybe it'd be good for me to cum on this instead."
You pout, "But-"
Toru cuts you off by rutting his cock back 'n forth more methodically, letting its heaviness bump up against and around your clit. Putting on this innocent-like tone, "Doesn't that feel good?" he asks.
You try not to roll your eyes from not getting exactly what you want, "Yes, but-"
"Then hush," He coos, hip bucking forward and causing his tip to get caught on the soiled fabric, more of your combined juices spilling out through it. "Jus' focus on how it feels, nothing more."
"Toru," You whine in protest.
He ignores the sound—just barely—and quickly moves his hand to push his glasses up on his face, "Fuck, you're so wet." Toru points out in tandem with being able to see things more clearly. "Makin' it so easy to slide against you."
Then you glance down and nearly drool at the sight. The head of his cock is evenly flushed over with glazed shades of pink, filthily slathered in slick 'n cum, and sticking out against your panties.
When he tugs his hips back, you nibble on your bottom lip to conceal yet another moan. The draaaag of his cock is what had you all tense with pleasure. It almost felt like he was truly fucking you and yet he hadn't even put his tip inside.
You adored the intimacy you found with Toru. Whenever you really wanted him to fuck you, he would. But after dealing with his asshole of a brother who only ever fucked you—you think you quite relish in this side of sex.
Even though you know Toru only does this because he gets off on teasing you like crazy. Hell, he ends up cumming within the next few minutes just from fucking your panties while your spread pussy glosses him up with every thrust.
It was such a nasty sight too. Toru lost his breath entirely somewhere between his thrusting, his hips unconsciously bucking forward whilst he struggled to keep your panties in place so he could watch his cock slip 'n slide against it, catching how the expensive fabric streeetched out until it eventually ripped with a loud cloth-like tear.
You had gasped at the sound and he tried to quickly distract you with kisses, his tongue slotting in between your lips before he double downed with his distraction and angled his cock down into you. You both had made enough of a mess for him to slip right in.
Then a broken gasp of your name was hushed out against your lips in a searing pant, his eyes rolling back and his glasses falling off entirely just to land on your face. You managed to snicker at feeling them, moving your hands to cup his cheeks into your palms, and then helping to put his eyewear back on.
"Hold them f'me," He hushed out just as his tip met the back of your cunt with a greedy smooch!
You kept your hands in place, fingers a bit shaky while he began to finally fuck you properly. The fabric of your lingerie was well tattered against your thighs now—soiled with a mix of obscenity—but neither of you really cared at the moment.
His cock was doused in his own cum, easily bucking another load into your sweetly clenched pussy as he whispered soft praises into your lips. All while you held his glasses against his face to stop them from falling again—loving the way they fogged up whenever his thrusts became especially erratic.
Meanwhile, Sato was a mess within his room. Because of all the whispered conversation, he could barely hear what was going on. His ears caught a moan or two but that—unfortunately—wasn't enough to get him off. By the time you and Toru finish up in there, Sato's left blue-balled 'n uncomfortable.
He thinks he caught the gist of what happened but he's not entirely sure, which pissed him off to no end.
So that plan of his from earlier? The one that he almost called it quits on, yeah, it's coming back in motion with full force.
——
It's simple too.
All he wants to do is drag that dorky brother of his to a couple parties and possibly get him to harp over someone else-, hell, anyone that's not you for once. And hopefully, this'll work long enough for Sato to steal a moment with you.
He could barely remember the last time he had a proper conversation with you up until he runs into you one weekend.
You're over at the Gojo estate for the hundredth time and he manages to catch you alone in the kitchen.
He spots you digging through the fridge as he's just coming out the pantry, his entire posture stiffening up at the mere sight of you. For a split second, he debates on turning around and ducking back into the pantry before you spot him.
Which... is weird considering he's never felt such a shy instinct gnaw at him like this before. It's just you, the same woman he's charmed time and time again. Surely not that much has changed between the two of y—
Your eyes suddenly land on him and he feels his heart sink to his ass as if he'd been caught doing something he had no business doing. You cock a brow his way, letting your gaze flock up and down his body to size him and his uncharacteristically awkward posture up. Him and his brother really shared more traits than either of them realized.
Whatever snack he had in his hands begin to slip and he fumbles with the item for a moment, causing you to snort as you look off to save him from further embarrassment. You're hardly sure why you do that, considering all the heartache he'd given you in the past.
Clearing his throat, "Didn't know you were here already, sorry." Sato says, the naturally suaveness of his tone highlighting the few differences between he and his brother. The levels of confidence between the two was hardly comparable, no matter how bumbling Sato seemed to be around you now.
You shrug, "I've been here for an hour. Toru's in the study and I figured I'd grab something to eat." Part of you wanted to add how if you knew he was in here too, you probably would've gone hungry for a little longer. "I'm surprised you're here and not at a party or something."
His eyes widen a little at that before he blurts out, "That was a lie, by the way."
"Huh?" You blink.
"What I said," His hand moves to the scratch the back of his neck—another thing the twins do when nervous—and he sighs, "I knew you were here, I dunno why I said I didn't. I was even hoping to talk to you."
Sato steps closer and you instinctively step back, to which his heart reacts weirdly. It was almost like you'd silently rejected him just now. Something of which he really wasn't used to.
Folding your arms, "Talk to me about what?" you ask.
Your body language around him now was entirely different than what he remembered it to be last. The distance between you two, how you looked at him as if you carried no more interest in him, and even the careful way in which you carried yourself in his presence. He felt like a stranger to you—while standing in his own home!
"There's uh," Shit, his words weren't even leaving him like they normally do. He never used to have this many verbal pauses around anyone. "There's this party—which is funny since you just mentioned me being at one—and I.. Well, I wanted to see if you and Toru would come."
You weren't buying that one bit. Humming, "Oh." before your brows furrow and your eyes run over his face suspiciously, "You don't normally invite Toru to parties. Actually, I don't think you've ever invited him to one."
Sato shrugs, "Maybe I'm trying something new." When he sees the roll of your eyes that earns, he lets out a sigh, "And I have invited him to parties before, he just doesn't like going to them."
"So why are you trying to get him to go now?" You press.
"'Cause I know you can help me convince him to come," He fires right back.
To which you take slight offense, "Ah, so you're using me." you scoff, "Again."
"N-No, shit, wait. That's not what I'm doing." Sato emphasizes while stepping closer again, noticing how you don't move back this time. "I just think it would be good for him to get out some more, I've always thought that. And before you, I never had anyone or anything to help me convince him to see that."
You're not entirely sure you're convinced here but, you go along with it, "Right..." Then you keep your brow raised and don't let him think for a second that you're not still skeptical of the whole thing. "Well that still doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like parties, like you said."
"He might if he gave them a chance," Sato suggests, "Especially one with me. You'd know that better than anyone else."
You look off to the side at that. He wasn't wrong there, you were one of the main people he used to drag to every party he could get into; having you on his arm for a good half of it until he got distracted by one of his frat brothers or even some other chick.
"I guess." You concede softly.
Sato smiles, "See? And I promise to keep an eye on him, make sure nobody drags him into anything stupid. He is my brother, after all."
You should've known better than to trust him when he said that but—if you were being honest with yourself here—Sato seemed pretty sincere, "Fine. I'll ask him"
"Thank you," He beams after, genuine appreciation gleaming through his eyes as he stares down at you.
Though, you felt as though that was less about your agreement and more about the proximity. Which is ultimately why you pull yourself away and quickly make you way out of the kitchen.
For your first conversation with him in months, it didn't go nearly as bad as either of you thought it might've.
——
And luckily for Sato, things work out perfectly.
When he went to tell his brother the details of the party they'd be attending, Toru didn't seem too put off by the idea like he had been in the past. In fact, by the time said party comes about, things go quite according to plan for Sato.
Loudly thumping music had the frat house walls rattling, the base hitting hard enough for you to feel it all throughout your body as you walked in. It was quite the cliche but you didn't mind it much, considering this used to be your usual weekend scene. Plastic red cups could be spotted in every other pair of hands, bodies were rolling against one another, and you could hear the distant sounds of excited shouting over the music.
You were loosely holding Toru's hand as the two of you walked in together, feeling his fingers tighten against you due to the number of people gathered about. His hold only seemed to loosen when Sato spotted the two of you and came walking over with his usual shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
"See? S'not that bad, is it?" He greets loudly, swiftly moving to Toru's free side and slinging an arm over the man's shoulder to tug him closer.
Toru's body is shuffled into his older brother's, having to move a hand to stop his glasses from going all crooked against his face. Clearing his throat whilst his eyes nervously fly around the party, "There's uhm, there's a lot of people here."
Sato snorts, "Astute observation, four eyes." he teases before pulling him further to steer him deeper into the room.
Just as Toru gets his glasses properly adjusted on his face, he feels heat flush into his cheeks at the sight of heads turning their way. The reason why he doesn't like coming to parties—especially with his brother—is quickly highlighted for him again.
An assortment of reactions fly out from different people as they look at the two twins together. The sound of someone saying, "No way there's two of them," almost makes you snort as you keep close behind them, letting the siblings bask in the oncoming attention from partygoers.
Before you realize it, there's a mild crowd forming near and around the two of them. You recognize a few faces—courtesy of being here with Sato so many times before—and send a wave out to some. Amid the excitement, you manage to catch a great deal of questions flying their way.
'Sato when did you start wearing glasses?' Directed at Toru jokingly. 'Are you two actually twins?' Asked to the both of them, as if their identical looks were a mere coincidence or something. 'Where have you been hiding all this time?' Toru receives that one and even though you can't see it, you could vividly picture how that makes him blush.
The final question you hear before walking off is an idiotic one of, 'Which one's which?'
God, it was chaotic.
So much so that you end up slipping back as that crowd grows larger, a sense of fondness stirring up in your chest since you'd had your fair share of the both of them before anyone else here. That, and the general feel of the party reminded you once more that you used to be dead center at these events with Sato every other weekend.
Which is exactly why you knew how to slip away easily.
Someone hands you a drink as you scope out the rest of the scene, you laugh at jokes made as you walk between people, and ultimately allow the party to wrap itself around you completely.
——
The party wasn't bad at all for you or the twins. Hell, you might even say it went perfectly.
Or, it was going perfectly. Y'know, until you made the mistake of running into Geto and Sukuna in the kitchen.
You were standing in between the two catching up on things that'd happened since the last time you'd seen them, pretending not to notice how they both looked at you. Fairly enough, back when Sato used to drag you here, the two knew better than to set their eyes on you the way they were right now.
But, since it had been so long, they'd forgotten all about that.
Geto was the closest to you, his head all tilted as he watched every word slip past your alcohol-slicked lips. Meanwhile Sukuna was on the other side keeping his husky voice low and greedy eyes lazy as they trailed down your figure.
You could feel the tension between the three of you building but, whether or not you wanted to go somewhere with it was unknown to you.
Meanwhile, a pair of annoyed azure eyes bored over the three of you. The sounds of surrounding people dulled out in Sato's ears as he watched from a distance, feeling his jaw unconsciously tighten whenever Sukuna's arm would brush over yours or whenever you laughed at something Geto said.
It only pissed him off even more to see you allowed the two to be all over you like that.
Seeing that happen with Toru was one thing—at least he and Sato shared the same face—but those two? Yeah, that wasn't sitting right in his heart at all.
Shit, it was almost worse.
Before he even realizes what he's doing, Sato tosses his head back to down the rest of the drink in his cup and then taps at his brother's arm. "Hey, you remember that one game I told you about?" He asks, taking his eyes off of you for a second, "The card game?"
Toru blinks innocently, "The probability one..?"
Sato nods, "Yeah.. Yeah, that one," He doesn't even remember himself. But, if this would serve as a distraction decent enough for him to sneak away from his brother to stop whatever the hell was going on between you and his friends, then fuck it. Snapping his fingers, "These guys over here were just asking me about it but I think you should explain. Since you're better at explaining things than me, y'know?"
Poor eager-to-help Toru looks towards the people Sato was referring to and shrugs, "Uh, yeah. I-I can do that." He stammers as he notices the curious eyes on him. He swallows thickly, "So, the concept is fairly simply. First—"
Anything that's said after that falls on non-listening ears as Sato takes that as his chance to slip away.
He weaves through people, offering half-smiles to those who try and stop him, managing to grab another drink on his way, and eventually making his way towards what really mattered: you.
By the time he gets there, Geto's mid-sentence with you while Sukuna had managed to get a hand onto the small of your back. That ticks Sato clean off.
He doesn't even say anything to either of the men as he pushes past Sukuna and snatches at your arm, tugging you along and causing your feet to stumble against the floor. Your eyes go wide and you shoot curses his way but, he wasn't hearing—nor caring for—any of them.
Sato hauls you all the way upstairs, unknowingly being watched from his twinning pair of eyes as he does so.
His hand on your arm is gripping enough to pain you and despite your half-attempts at pulling away from him, you end up shoved into a room anyway.
The door slams and he pants heavily as he struggles to get a grasp at his own emotions. You're collecting yourself after being flung so easily into the room, straightening up where you stand and scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man.
“Sato, what the hell is wrong with you? I was in the middle of-,” When you turn around, all the words on your tongue seem to die out entirely.
In all your years of living and in all your time of knowing Sato Gojo, never could you have expected to see him down on his knees and peering up at you like a desperate puppy. Pouting rather cutely and letting his hand snake up behind your leg, “Please.” he whispers shortly.
You blink. Then you look around for a bit, trying to decipher whether or not this was something your drunken brain had come up with or if it was real. “Please… what?”
His head tilts and the dim lighting in the room catches against his blue eyes, a soft look noticeable in them now. “Touch me,” Sato continues, pout deepening as he shuffles forwards on his knees. “Look at me, yell at me, give me your attention—something.”
“Are you okay?” You ask with genuine curiosity. It was weird to see him like this all of a sudden. “You’ve been acting strange all night and then you pull me in here for this?”
Ah, so you'd noticed it? You noticed how he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, how he kept steering his brother in the opposite direction of you, and how your talking to Geto and Sukuna drove him absolutely insane?
Sato’s close enough now that his head ends up resting against your thigh and he nuzzles his face into your skin, “You don’t get it.” He insists, “I will do whatever you want-, whatever it takes to get your attention back on me instead of—“
“Toru?” You finish for him.
His jaw tenses as he grits his teeth, “Yeah. Anything it takes to bring you back to me.”
You fall silent for a moment long enough to worry him.
Then, he watches your hand lift in slow motion and his heart-rate spikes immediately. You go to flick that stupid backwards hat of his off the top of his head, hearing it hit the floor with a light little thump, and then thread your fingers through his hair. A shiver runs up his spine and his lashes begin to bat up at you.
Fuck, it'd been so long since he felt your touch that he was on the verge of embarrassing himself even more soon.
Your touch sinks deeper into his hair before you shift your hand down to his face, and eventually his jaw. Cupping it in your palm, you force his head up and tug him closer—still keeping him on his knees—and flash this look at him that makes his cock jump.
He’d never seen you gaze at him so hungrily before. Needy? Sure, plenty of times. But hungry-, starved? Now that was something different.
“…Anything?” You whispered before you drew that plastic red cup of yours up to your mouth and took a slow swig of your drink.
With the way things had been going on this fine night, you were starting to wonder if you were being greedy. Had he not dragged you up here like this, you might've ended up in a new bed with new people...
Sato gulped in tandem with your steady sips. His eyes fawning up at you all doe-like, “Y-Yeah, anything.”
He’d never been on to stutter. Hell, he’s never even been on his knees like this for anyone and yet here he was. But if he had to watch Sukuna and Suguru—of all people—lounge around in your attention any longer than he just did moments ago, he might’ve lost his mind entirely.
Your hand leaves his face and his breath hitches at the loss. “Lean back a bit, Sato.” You direct, watching as he instantly angles his torso back enough for you to see his entire frame below you.
Your body was buzzing from the alcohol and you don't think you ever would've acted on these thoughts of yours had you been sober.
Letting your gaze saunter down his body until it lands on his parted legs, your foot already in between them, the sight thrusts an idea into your head and you end up smiling down at him almost wickedly.
“Now spread,” You hum with a subtle nod of your chin.
His cock twitches again. Then he’s sprawling his legs out further as blush decorates his cheeks. “Like.. like this?” Sato mumbles.
Fuck, he was so embarrassed right now. Why did he do this? Why was he doing this?
Noticing your expression, his answer becomes quite clear.
“Just like that, good boy.” You praise before lifting your leg and soon nudging at his crotch with the tip of your foot—poking the bulge that’d revealed itself there. “I kinda like you like this, y’know.”
He gulps again, trying his damndest to ignore the way precum drooled out of his plump cockhead in reaction to your foot, “Do you?”
You nod, "Mhm. Had I known you were dragging me up here for this, I would've came along willingly."
Sato nearly moans at that. It revealed to him that you somewhat still cared for him, albeit in a sexual context.
You apply some more pressure onto his dick and watch his entire expression break out as he gasps. Then he hunches forward and grabs onto your leg as if to beg for mercy or something, grunting a searingly low, "Fuck."
Moving your gaze further down, you see how cute his cock looks all hard 'n smushed up against his thigh, twitching beneath your foot like he craved more. You wonder faintly if you're being too mean to him with this but, with the way he's breathing against your leg and holding onto you for dear life, you quickly realize he likes it.
You reel your foot back for a few seconds before stepping down harder, causing him to straight up whimper at how deliciously that pains him.
Flipping his head up to look at you with glossy eyes, "More," Sato moans. Then he's rutting his hips and your foot slips down off his crotch. To which he follows by humping your leg.
That seems to catch you by surprise with the way your hand grabs onto his hair and you tug at his head, "Hey, did I say you could do that?"
Something pathetic wisps out of his lungs and he shakes his head, "No, fuck.. m'sorry." He mumbles.
Then he shuffles back again and lets you return your foot to his cock, looking down to watch how you rub against his bulge.
"Don't touch it either, jus' watch." You order rather cruelly. Something burning coils up in his abdomen, perhaps a hungry need to buck his hips up and meet the friction you were so graciously gifting him with.
Sato nods his head obediently and then leans back further so that you could better watch how you were stepping on his cock. His mind feels muddled. He wanted your attention but, he didn't realize he wanted it this badly—to the point where he was letting you treat him like this.
Your foot taps at the head of his dick and he flinches cutely, simpering a whine out from his tongue.
"Aw, that's adorable." You comment with a smile on your face, "Did you always want me to do this to you or are you only like this because I forgot about you for all that time?"
His eyes are hazy as they meet yours and you can tell there's hardly a thought running through that unfairly pretty head of his. "...Both?" He heaves out. The pressure against his cock increases again and his eyes start rolling back, hips unconsciously moving to grind up against your foot. "Ah, f-fuck.." Sato whispers helplessly.
His swollen cock was relishing in the weight that pressed against it, tip sticking to the fabric of his boxers and even beginning to seep through with the liquids as he began to move. The rest of his body felt hot and his mind was taut with sin, drool steadily building up against his lips.
You let your foot smack at his length all meanly and Sato swears he came for a second based on what nearly spurted out of his tip.
Those slightly soaked lashes flutter up at you, his pout deepening as his muscles flex from tension, "M'gonna cum," He warns.
You promptly snatch your foot away and roll your eyes at him, “No you aren’t.”
Oh, at the level of depravity he'd reached, he almost got on all fours to crawl after you as you stepped back instead of further on him.
The only thing that stopped him from doing so was a gentle gesture from your fingers, beckoning him to get up on his feet. He shuffles up messily and you notice the wet spot on his pants where his cockhead is proudly poking at.
Creeping near him again, your smile widens as you lift your eyes up, “How much did you miss me, Sato?”
So much so that his body is burning with the desire to touch you right now...
Not that he says that, though.
Sato's tone is a little breathless from his near orgasm but, he still manages to speak without stuttering. Which should count for something considering how desperate he's gotten. “I almost came from you stepping on my cock, how much do you think?” He huffs sassily.
You slap him.
You don’t know if it was the alcohol resting in your system or simply the heat of the moment but, your hand had flown across his face faster than you could think. You didn’t much care for his sass, especially since you’d spent far too long letting him talk to you and treat you however he wanted.
Sato blinks and stares off into that direction, baffled by the pain sitting on his cheek and the quiver it earned from his dick. He doesn’t even realize he whined as if aroused until his eyes fall on you again.
You look surprised at yourself but then he sees how you’re scrunching your brows at him.
It’s then that Sato realizes he’s smirking at you, his head spinning with the most lustful ideas before he stalks closer to you. “Please,” He nearly groans, “Do that again?”
“What?” You gape. “N-No, I didn’t even mean to—“
“I don’t care,” Sato cuts off. “Slap me again. I-I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, I forgot my place.”
“Your place? What? I—“
“Here,” He drops to his knees again with a heavy thud. “My place is here, remember?”
No, you don’t remember at all. Is he acting like this because of a few minutes ago or has he really gone this crazy? Did all that time truly get him this bad? This desperate for you?
“I’m sorry,” Sato whines, reaching for your hand to pull it to his mouth so he can kiss across your knuckles. “M’so sorry for how I treated you before—how shitty I was.”
“Sato, i-it’s fine, I…” You trail off because of how submissive he looks kissing your fingers as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane. "I didn't even mean to hit you... I just..." Then something clicks in your brain.
His eyes flock up but he doesn’t get long to process why your words had trailed off. The same fingers he was kissing end up in his mouth within only a few seconds.
He groans against your hand and sucks dearly, nodding his head as if to coax you into continuing. “M-Mhmm..” Sato hums.
“God, you're pathetic,” You hum.
He's so hard he feels like he's gonna pass out.
Your fingertips plummet into his mouth, tapping at the back of his tongue. “Sucking on my fingers like this, letting me step on your cock, liking it when I slapped you...” You lean down all of a sudden and his eyes get wide, “Jerking off to the sounds of your brother fucking me…”
Sato feels dizzy now. He wants to pull his mouth away and protest—tell you that it’s not true, that he’s never done that before—but he knows he can’t. He wouldn’t be able to breathe a lie into your direction. Not like this.
So when you take your fingers out his mouth and grab his face to tug his head up again, he thinks his brain turned off entirely.
“How... How do you know about that?" He asks hoarsely.
You slowly lean down to him and shrug, "I heard you moaning my name out one time."
Surprise colors itself into his eyes before he looks away. You tilt your head into that direction and then force him to look at you one more time, inching in fully to catch him by surprise as you kiss him.
His previously turned-off brain comes to life at the feel of your lips against his. The familiarity in which your mouth moves with his is enough to bring him up to his feet again, his hand quick to meet your waist and then pull you in.
“I missed you so fuckin’ much,” Sato sears into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue dives in. “M’sorry for bein’ so stupid, let me make it up to you. Please?”
Who were you to say no to such a thing?
It’s only natural that you indulge in his wishes since it’d been so long.
But, by the time you both tear one another’s clothes off and he’s one layer away from a face full of your pussy—the door to the room you’re in swings open.
Your legs clamp around Sato’s face in reaction and you hear him groan frustratedly.
Standing at the door with a face flushed from alcohol consumption is Toru, who’s wearing the same expression Sato was earlier when he saw you with Geto and Sukuna.
Scoffing, the man steps into the room fully and kicks the door shut behind him. The sound of it locking clicks throughout the air seconds after.
Sato opens his mouth to say something—hoping to protest his twin brother joining in on this, but getting cut off by the glare that’s sent his way from behind perfectly clean frames.
A low, “Move over.” husks past Toru’s lips as he stems closer to the bed and soon into it.
Your legs get stretched further apart and you’re looking at the Gojo twins settle themselves in between them before you have a moment to understand what was going on.
“Tch.” Sato grits out as he's rudely nudged to the side.
"Don't tch me, you can share." Toru argues half-drunkenly, elbowing him slightly.
His older twin has a scowl pressed onto his face now, "Didn't wanna share."
"Cry about it, loser."
"Hey, quit calling me that."
"You've been up here for like thirty minutes 'n still haven't gotten her to squirt," Toru sounded disappointed. "Are you sure you're even a part of the Gojo family?"
Sato quickly takes offense to that—the two of them wrapped up in their bickering and forgetting about you for a moment. "Excuse me? I was the first born, dipshit. M'older than you."
"By six seconds."
"Still older-"
"Hey." You huff, instantly earning both of their eyes back on you. "Less talking and more makin' me feel good, yeah?"
"Yes ma'am," The two breathe out in sync, quickly getting to work.
Toru's mouth latches onto your inner thigh again while Sato goes straight for your cunt—greedy, like always. He ignores your panties being in the way and suckles your taste onto his tongue while tugging the fabric into his mouth.
You felt teeth against your thigh as Toru bit at you here and there, tickling your skin with his tongue afterwords. All while Sato makes his oral muscle quite familiar with the your prettily twitching pussy, salivating against it to let the liquid mix in with the slick collecting against your panties.
Things started out slow between the two of you but got nasty very quickly.
They could only kiss 'n nip at you for so long until Toru looked over and got impatient just from watching the technique his dummy of a brother used to tease you. Palming the side of his twin's face, he shoved him over to the side even more and then scoffed again.
"Lemme show you a thing or two," Toru sighed heavily, moving his hands to your panties and then quickly riiiiiping the fabric that still hugged your cunt. As you're revealed to him, he lets out a sound of relief and greets your lathering folds with a soft kiss. Whispering, "Hey baby. Mmph, miss me?"
When his tongue rolls out his mouth, it's instantaneous how your back begins to arch up. Sato notices it and feels a pang in his chest. He doesn't know why he can't seem to do that with the same ease as his younger sibling.
"Mmnh, Toru!" Then came that gorgeous moan of yours, having the nerve to utter his brother's name as if he hadn't been in the room for much longer so far.
Was he really that bad at making you feel good? Or was there just some sort of bias for the nerd who's currently mumbling filth into your pussy and only ever reeling back to shoot a thick glob of spit onto you?
Having grown tired of not being enough for you, Sato decides to force himself back into the equation by snaking his hand up towards your pulsing hole the moment he sees Toru's tongue glissading up to your clitoral hood—the tip of it catching there before he swats at it.
You're pleasantly surprised to feel two lengthy fingers thrust past that stubborn lil' ring of resistance, spurring a sloppy squelch out in reaction.
Toru's making out with your clit as if he'd never done it before, his tongue clumsily dragging shapes out into it while Sato curls his digits into you. Splatters of your slick fly out onto the both of their faces and you're shamelessly letting your moans fill the room.
It's not long before a gloss of your cum is decorating Sato's entire hand and the lower half of Toru's face. Having both of them work you over the edge was an experience like no other.
Toru lifts his face to spit on his thumb next, moving it to your clit again and swirling his saliva around it as he spells something out. You could just barely make out the letters of their family name being rubbed into you.
“Here, she tastes sweeter when you do this,” Toru instructed in a sultry whisper as he rubs at your clit in sync with Sato’s mouth soon latching onto your slobbering hole.
“Mmgh,” Sato ends up moaning as if heaven itself had just spilled out onto his tongue.
To which his twin tilts his head in awe and then smiles, “Sweet, right?”
“S’fuckin’ sweet,” Sato grumbles, his hips idly rocking against the lower end of the bed for some sort of relief. Adding a low, “Why didn’t I do this before?”
Toru scoffs, “Cause you’re an idiot.”
“Mmph.” Is grumped into you just before you feel Sato pouting against your pussy.
Your puffy lips smear out against his own, leaving a gushing trail against the lower half of his face with the way Toru's insistent thumb never let up on your overstimulated bud.
Even as your legs began to shake, both of their hands had you pinned to the bed as they selfishly got their lusting tastebuds full off of the honeyed slick that continuously oozed out of you.
Sato let his tongue smack at your quivering hole a few times in between his slithering thrusts back in, the thick tip of his tongue grinding against your soft walls to coax more of your juices out.
All as Toru watches and steadily grew proud of his brother for finally using his brain for once. Then he looked up at you and kept his thumb in place as he began to move up. Soon enough, his mouth was meeting yours to let you taste yourself in a smearing kiss.
You had one hand wrapped around Toru to keep him close and the other gripped onto Sato's messier head of hair as his mouth mumbled praises into your pussy.
Your body was quickly being worshiped by the twins as if nothing else could keep them sane. Sato wouldn't let up on your pretty cunt no matter how many times you whined for a break and Toru had made his way to your tits, sucking your perked nipples into his mouth and letting his tongue round the buds in eager fashion.
At the rate they were going, you just knew you'd end up entirely fucked-out sooner rather than later...
"See? If you wanted to make her squirt so bad, all you had to do was work her up to it." Toru says right after popping his slathered mouth off of your swollen nipple, rolling it in between his fingers as he glances down at his pussydrunk twin.
"I can," Sato pants all of a sudden, prying his mouth off of you for the first time in forever, and then looking up at you, "Please let me try again. I can do it this time, I-I'll be patient for it, I'll cater to you, please."
With glossed over eyes, you just barely manage to peer down at the desperate man in between your legs. "You're so cute when you beg," You snicker breathlessly, "C'mere, Sato."
...Was he dreaming? Were you really about to give him another chance?
——
In short, yes!
But, not in the way he'd exactly hoped for.
See, what Sato wanted most was to bring you to that level of pleasure and see the look on your face when it happens.
So when he finds himself dumbly splayed out under you as you ride him in reverse, he's all but frowning grumpily since he can't see a single expression on your face.
He misses how your eyes roll back when you first ease your weepy pussy down onto the erect standing of his cock, how you bite down on your lower kiss-bitten lip to conceal a needy lil' whimper, and how pleasure washes over you completely as the swollen lips of our cunt come flush with his deftly standing base.
The only thing Sato gets to see is the gorgeous arch in your back and the rhythmic recoil 'n slap of your ass while you bounce up and down expertly. His hands are anchored to your hips as his jaw flails open, drool trickled all down his jawline and dripping onto his abs filthily.
It was rare that he let you ride him in the past. The reasoning behind it being the simple fact that he could never handle it!
"O-Ohhh fuck.." Sato groaned out into the air with his head cleanly tossed back.
Your walls were meanly gripping around his aching shaft, causing his mushroomy head to throb ploddingly at the spongey spot inside you. He was forced to watch your pussy sliiiiiiide up 'n down his cock at a pace that ringed such squelchy sounds out into the sir.
"Wait," He panted out in hopes of getting you to listen for just a second. It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who'd fucked you to tears so many times before when he was the one tearing up now. "S'too f-fast. I can't-, hahh.."
His complaints were hardly heard by you since you were quite busy with the man standing over you as you rode him. Another fat cock currently held your attention with the way it dangled in front of your face.
Toru was occupying the same face that Sato desired to badly to see. He had his hand firmly wrapped around his shaft as he tapped your cheek with the rest of his length, coating your skin with his cum and making a complete mess of you.
You'd squeeze around Sato especially tighter with every rude smack of Toru's cock against your face. It was downright whorish the way he was smiling down at you, gaze demeaning from behind those damply fogged glasses of his.
“Focus on the tip, sweet girl.” He told you as he angled his dick downwards to your lips and let the tip smear against the outline of your mouth. He pushed forward just so that his slit drooled specifically onto your bottom lip, smiling when your tongue darts out in response, “Thereeee you go. I like bein’ teased too, see?”
When you nod your head, he takes that as his sign to fully enter your mouth and relishes in the way you swallow him in—the warmth of your mouth enough to make his hand fly to your head to hold onto you. He doesn't even have to say anything for you to start sucking on his cock in the sluttiest way imaginable.
Your tongue laps against the underside of his cock, head reeling back slightly just so you could spit on his tip and then smear the saliva in with a sloppy kiss. Humming, “Mngh!” and causing his balls to feel heavier with the need to release.
While you orally satisfy the nerd in front of you, your hips are swerving and grinding perfectly against Sato—who's still losing his ever loving mind at being inside you again. He's trying to match your movement with a few thrusts of his hips but the one time he does that, he hears you gag on Toru's cock and feels bad.
Not to mention the way it bruises his ego to hear the dork tease you by chuckling, “Fuck, don’t choke.”
To which you soak profusely around Sato.
The only bad thing about all this was the mean fact in which you hadn't let Sato cum.
Toru's been allowed to make a gooey mess on your face, you'd expereined more orgasms than any of you could keep track of—including a stream of squirt that Sato claims to be the cause of—but any time he kindly asked you if he could cum inside you, you'd look back at him and tell him no in the same tone that only made holding it in all the more difficult.
Hence why his voice is barely there now as he heaves out a despairing, “I-I’m gonna pass out if you don’t let me cum,” His fingertips were bruising at your hips and he weakly ground up into you, his cock felt pulsing against your gummy insides. “Please.”
“Give her a second, she’s too busy to give you permission for that.” Toru hummed confidently as he rubbed his palm against your head and forced you to take him deeper down your throat.
Your mouth relaxed around his dick and he moaned lightly once his tip thumped into the very back of it.
“Fuck you a-and what she’s busy with,” Sato protested, “I need to cum.”
“So cum,” Toru says as if it were the simplest thing in the world, trying not to laugh at his brother's pitifulness and the way you were sending him a disapproving look.
“I can’t,” His brother frowns, “N-Not without her-, hnngh! p-permission.”
“How unfortunate.” Toru says as he lazily fucks your throat a little deeper, his balls tapping against your chin along with his alleviated thrusts.
You slurp at him harder, cunt clenching around Sato’s cock again when the one in your mouth bulges against your throat and then chokes you.
Sato thinks he’s on the verge of death with how long he’d been holding back his release—his dramatics evident in the way he tries to pull himself away from you for a moment to breathe.
It's not until you swallow down a sleek load of cum and pull off of Toru's length with dewy strings of pure filth hanging from your lips that you whisper the quietest permission to Sato, allowing his load of warm cum to stuff up until you instantaneously.
The three of you are left worn out just like last time within a matter of moments.
All limbs move languidly to clean up and you just barely notice that the three of you hadn't been in a some random room that entire time. Sukuna's name is caught printed across a jersey in the corner of the bedroom and it makes your eyes go all wide.
Shit.
And if that wasn't enough to worry about, you hear the way Toru snickers from somewhere behind you now. When you glance back at him, he gestures towards his dazed twin, “Guess he was right about one thing..."
Staring innocently, “Hm? What’s that?” you ask all softly.
“You really are a whore for some Gojo cock.”
You roll your eyes, “I think I’m more of a slut for it. There’s only two of you so whore is a bit of a stretch, y’know?”
The twins exchange a glance as you say that.
Then, Sato moves to scratch at the back of his neck, “Yeah, about that…”
synopsis Fratjo (satoru) is a law student on a fast track to success, Nerdjo (satoshi) is a top ranked premed student—together the Gojo twins are a force to be reckoned with. in an elite university where diligence and discipline is required, you’re doing your best as an art major to keep your head up and stay caught up with your peers. but when both brothers suddenly invade your already crowded life, the line between friendship, rivalry, and something more blurs in ways you weren’t ready for.
Ridgeview is an elite university that you did not happen to be admitted into on a mere whim—countless hours spent slaving over paintings, working part time shifts as a waitress, maintaining an above average GPA—you busted your ass for the opportunity to be here.
But after facing your classmates who have all the time in the world, whose only worry is school and not keeping food on the table, you’re becoming anxious. The first day of class was a critique, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. Especially not the part where your teacher pulled you aside and told you to remember that “there is more to art than just technique.”
It’s been a week since then and you’ve just been getting by, barely keeping your head afloat.
Today’s Ethics lecture drags on longer than usual. You sit near the back of the hall, sketchbook open on your lap instead of a notebook, pencil moving absentmindedly as the professor drones on about morals and philosophy. Around you, students type away on sleek laptops, fully engaged, fully confident—like they belong here without having to prove it.
A burst of quiet laughter ripples through the room.
You glance up just in time to see a group of guys filtering into the row a few seats down, loud in that effortless way people with nothing to lose tend to be. One of them stands out immediately—white hair, slouched confidence, completely unbothered by the professor’s pointed look. He leans back in his seat like he owns the place.
When the professor asks a question, it’s him who answers. Casual. Correct. A few amused murmurs follow.
Your eyes linger longer than you intend. He catches you staring.
A slow smirk pulls at his lips.
You scoff quietly to yourself and look back down at your sketchbook, shading harder than necessary.
When the lecture finally wraps up, you pack your things quickly and leave the building, needing air—needing space. A nearby café sounds like salvation.
You sit at a small table by a large window, sketchbook laid out, wired headphones on playing your favorite songs as you draw the room around you. The café is silent except for the quiet chatting of other customers and faint jazz playing through the speakers. A sweet chocolatey aroma envelops the air and you take a deep breath—this is exactly what you’ve been needing.
The bells of the door ring as a rambunctious group of guys saunter in.
You’re adding finishing touches to your drawing when the cup of coffee you ordered suddenly falls atop it. The brown liquid quickly seeps into the sheet and across the small table, you grab your sketchbook and stand up before it has a chance to drip down onto your jeans. More annoyed than startled, you look up at the stranger, his blue eyes snapping to yours.
Too busy making a fool of himself with his friends to be mindful of his surroundings, the white-haired asshole had bumped into you.
“Shit, sorry about that.” He’s snickering as he says it, the friends behind him barely containing their laughter. He grabs a lone napkin from another table and offers it to you, knowing damn well it’d take much more than that to clean the mess up.
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches your reaction—what a fucking dick.
The rude remark that forms in your mouth stalls when it clicks.
You’ve seen him before.
The lecture hall flashes in your mind—the way he leaned back in his seat like he owned the place, answered the professor without a second thought. The smirk he’d worn when he caught you staring.
Your eyes flick briefly to his shirt, the university sigil stitched across it, ALPHA RHO bold beneath.
So this is him.
You knew this cocky bastard—or at least of him. Vice president of his fraternity, has almost all the girls on campus wrapped around his finger, throws insane parties and shows up to class the day later with no traces of it. He’s the kind of guy you’ve always disliked, one who everything comes easy to—how could it not, he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth.
You snatch the napkin from his hand, biting back what you had wanted to say.
“It’s fine.”
He eyes you, like he’s trying to place you too, before turning back to his friends.
“You’re such a douchebag, dude,” one of them says, laughing as they stand back in line.
You try your best to clean up around you before grabbing your things and leaving. Your peace had gone not nearly as slowly as it had come.
Back in your small apartment, you divide up the money you’d made in previous shifts as a waitress. You were able to enter the university on a scholarship, but you still have to account for your food, gas, bills, and any other luxuries you might want to enjoy. Staying at one of the dorms they have to offer was out of your price range and not a requirement, so you opted to rent a place near campus.
You sigh and sit down on your lonely couch. Being inside of here trudges up the past—reminders of everything you sacrificed to be able to continue pursuing your dreams of becoming an artist, including the acceptance of your parents. They think you’re wasting your time, that not even a fancy university will save you from ending up on the streets a starving artist.
Some moments, you find truth in their words. Like the one back at the café.
You can’t help but feel the slightest tinge of jealousy towards guys like Satoru, who are probably sitting in their fancy fraternity house surrounded by friends and wealth, their entire future already planned while some days you are questioning yours.
Even something as minuscule as the way he was able to brush you off shows the clear contrast between the kinds of lives you lead.
You lightly slap your cheeks with both hands and stand, walking toward your bedroom.
Who are you kidding? If anyone should be jealous, it’s those rich pricks. You don’t have to live by the rules of your parents. You can do whatever the hell you want. That includes wearing a dress that is admittedly a bit slutty and going out to a frat party on a Friday night. You can always allocate your money later.
The past week you’ve been hauling ass. It’s time to get drunk—and maybe laid.
You slip on a black dress and do your makeup for the first time in a while. Sitting down and getting ready is one of the few other activities you enjoy just as much as painting. It’s comforting, in a sense, to put this much effort into yourself—to remind yourself there’s more to life than school.
You grab your purse, pepper spray included. You can never be too careful.
When you arrive the frat boys at the door let you in with open arms. “Chicks are free entry!”
The house is huge, even for a fraternity. Loud rap music blares through your ears, couples kiss and grope each other, others spill out onto the patio, turning the backyard into a dance floor.
God, you hadn’t been somewhere like this in a while.
Purple lights flash red intermittently, the air hazy with smoke from vapes and blunts. Right as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen, you bump headfirst into someone’s chest, your nose crinkling in pain.
For the second time today, you’re met with the gaze of Satoru Gojo.
He smirks, playfulness in his eyes.
“You can’t seem to get your hands off of me.”
You quickly back away and scoff.
“Trust me,” you say flatly, “this wasn’t intentional.”
His smile widens. “Twice in a day. Sure it wasn’t.”
“That first time was your fault—and you’re standing in the middle of a hallway.”
“Funny,” he says, tilting his head. “Most people walk around me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they do.”
You move past him toward the kitchen counter, grabbing a red solo cup. As you pour yourself a drink, you feel an unwelcome presence beside you once again.
“You always this grumpy,” he asks, “or am I just special?”
You keep your eyes on the cup.
“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“High praise,” he says. “Coming from someone who’s been trying to escape me all day.”
You glance at him then, unimpressed.
“You ran into me.”
“Twice.”
“God, You’re really hanging onto that.”
He shrugs. “Hard not to when it keeps happening.”
You take a sip of your drink. “What do you want?”
The question seems to catch him just a little off guard. “Straight to the point,” he says. “I like that.”
“Answer it.”
A small smile curves at his mouth. “Honestly? I wanted to see if you’d still look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re deciding whether I’m worth the energy.”
You scoff. “I already decided.”
“And yet,” he says lightly, “you’re still standing here.”
You shift your weight, annoyance flickering. “You’re blocking the counter.”
He steps aside immediately, hands lifting, shirt revealing the slightest bit of his toned torso. “My bad.”
You roll your eyes but stay anyway, standing next to him in silence for a few moments. Your eyes are scanning over the room people watching—but his haven’t left you alone.
“You don’t seem like the frat party type,” he adds, tone more curious than smug.
“And you don’t seem like the observant type.”
That earns him a soft laugh, his head slightly tilting “You’d be surprised.”
You toss your cup and turn to leave.
“Hey,” he calls, not raising his voice. “Coffee girl.”
You pause and face him, that smug smile back on his lips.
“That’s not my name.”
“Didn’t say it was,” he replies. “Just felt right.”
You walk away and you can feel his eyes on your back with each step.
You find yourself outside now feeling the effects of the alcohol, your hips swaying as your back is pressed against a stranger. He’s cute, brunette, tall, but you’re not sure if you can really go through with a one night stand. Sex is something you regard as highly intimate, it’s when your body is closest to another’s, when your body is at its most vulnerable. Could you really do that with someone who meant nothing to you?
The guy tells you he has to use the bathroom, he apologizes before leaving, he actually sounds sincere. Unlike the other apology you received earlier.
Why are you even thinking about him again? There’s plenty of guys here who are surely better than him.
You have to admit it though, Satoru is annoyingly attractive. Mesmerizing blue eyes, tall, ridiculously fit body, top in all of his classes—just from the few encounters you can tell he isn’t the type to settle down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a new girl in his bed every week.
You see a man from the corner of your eye approaching you. Definitely not the guy you were just dancing with. He looks sleazy and the closer he gets to you the stronger the scent of liquor becomes.
He leans in far too close for comfort, his voice is thick over the music.
His eyes drag over you. “You’ve been eyeing me all night.”
You take a step back and cross your arms over your chest. “You’re standing too close,” you warn. “Back up.”
“Relax,” he says moving towards you once again. “I’m just trying to talk.”
You distance yourself again, “I’m not interested.”
He laughs like it’s a joke. “Didn’t ask.”
“Leave me alone.”
Instead, he closes the distance again.
“Relax. You don’t have to play hard to get.”
“I’m not playing,” you snap. “I said no.”
He scoffs.
“You don’t look like someone who means that.”
You stomp on his foot with your heel and he yelps in pain. “I said no asshole.”
“You bitch—” He lunges forward, furious now.
Your fist connects before he finishes the sentence. You wince and shake your arm, sharp pain running through it.
He staggers back, hand flying to his face.
“I told you to fuck off,” you spit at him, voice unsteady.
“Problem?” Satoru steps between you and the guy, not touching you, not even looking at you at first.
The guy points wildly. “She punched me!”
Satoru glances back at you, eyes flicking briefly to your hand, then back to him.
“Sounds like you earned it.”
“The hell I did! She attacked me for no reason!”
You speak before Satoru can. “Lying cunt— I told him to leave me alone.”
Satoru smiles—but it’s cold. “Yeah,” he says. “That checks out.”
The guy scoffs, backing away now. “This place is full of psychos.”
“Door’s that way,” Satoru replies calmly. “Use it.”
The guy mutters something under his breath and disappears into the crowd.
Satoru turns to you then. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,”
“Your hand, let me help you-“
“No, I’m leaving anyway. I’ll take care of it later.”
He grabs your arm softly, his hand warm and touch hesitant, “let me help.”
Noting the genuine concern on his face, you sigh and nod, following behind him as he leads you upstairs.
For someone you barely knew, he already had a habit of pulling you into his world.
☆ bestfriend!satoru likes seeing you in his clothes a little too much.
it starts with lending you a jacket when you're out late and it gets cold. he laughs at you first, makes fun of the way you shiver, but then his eyes drift and he realises he can see your hardened nipples through your shirt and suddenly he's layering you up in his jacket just to keep his mind from short-circuiting.
but the sight of you in his jacket is no help either, not when you drown in it because he's so damn tall and he's reminded of the difference in size between the two of you and for the first (more like third) time he's wondering what you'd look like beneath him in a mean mating press. how you'd feel shaking under his body weight: like how you're shaking now, but pleasure wracking your body rather than the cold wind.
he tells himself it's fine to have these thoughts. you're his best friend, you spent every waking hour together: it's only natural that his thoughts would eventually drift southwards. he'll snap out of it, he just needs to jerk off and clear his mind.
so he walks you home, and lets you keep the jacket.
but that night, he's in the shower with hot water scalding his skin, eyes squeezed shut as he strokes his cock at an inhuman pace. fucks his fist with anything but you in mind—he thinks about all his past trysts, about whatever porn he's seen lately, about his fucking cursed technique.
and he thinks he has it, he's pumping his cock with crazed strokes in an attempt to cum and clear his mind, but just as that pleasure starts to break into white hot lust, all he sees is you. in nothing but his jacket, wrecked on his cock and begging him for more.
and when he cums, he sees your eyes pleading up at him from where you’d rest on your knees, ready to take his load into your mouth because you crave the taste. He swears he can feel your fingers splayed over his thighs, your tongue tracing the pronounced vein that runs up the underside of his cock… your heated presence in the shower alongside him.
satoru says your name as he cums, and realises he’s wholly fucked and not coming back from this.
so, naturally, gojo plays into it.
the next time you see him is at his place, you come around to spend time with him and talk about the mundane that always seems exciting when spoken in the lilt of your voice. he offers you a drink, pours you a glass of red and promptly spills it over your pretty top—purely accidental, of course.
and he only takes a moment to admire the way the soaked fabric clings to your skin before he’s bolting into action and offering you a shirt of his own.
“it’s like you’re trying to steal my wardrobe, huh? first my jacket… now my shirt… got something to admit to, hm? you like wearing my clothes?”
it’s playful banter, you think, and roll your eyes with a huff as he hands you a shirt that’s oversized even on him. he wants to see you drown in the fabric, covered in him through clothing until he can cover you in another aspect of himself.
you make him look away while you change, though you know it’s an effort wasted because he’s all-seeing or whatever. and when satoru finally gets a look at you in his shirt he knows it’s game over. it’s like he’s left a mark on you, staked his claim not through bite marks or hickies as he usually would, but through the fabric that dresses your skin. his clothes smell like him, look like him, and are being worn by you.
he’s beyond hard, his cock is tenting his pants and he’s almost offended you haven’t yet noticed, because there’s no hiding a boner when you’re his size. you’re sweet enough not to look, even steal a glance out of curiosity, but he isn’t. his eyes are roaming your skin in such a heated way you feel feverish. it’s how he notices the wine that has spilt on your skirt as well.
he could tell you—offer you a pair of his sweats and cum in his own pants at the way they’d hang off your hips—but he doesn’t. instead, your best friend satoru gojo, the man you know like scripture, drops to his knees and takes the hem of your skirt between his fingers.
“what are you doing?” you think he’s cruel for a joke like this, when he looks so good on his knees, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as if he’s aching for a taste of you. you squeeze your thighs together, groan at the thought of gojos relentless teasing if he realises you’re soaking wet right now. “this isn’t funny.”
“i’m not laughing,” he says, tone flat. “your skirt is stained.”
“oh,” it is, you can see the wine seeping into the fabric.
gojo laughs, his grin sinful. “what? you get all flustered when i’m on my knees? how lewd.”
“shut up,” you try and step backwards, put some space between him and your pulsing heat, but his hands come to grip your thighs, fingers cool as they brush under your skirt and press into your skin. “you’re an asshole, satoru.”
“i know,” his fingers creep higher. “i’m sorry.”
“no you’re not.”
“yeah, i’m not.” he parrots. “but you will be.”
“wh—“
in one practiced movement, satoru rips your skirt down and exposes you to him. he has to bunch up the shirt of his you wear with one hand and keep you from running with the other on your waist, but he’s met with a beautiful sight as a reward for all his pining.
“for coming to my house with no fucking panties on and acting like you don’t want me to fuck you like we’re more than friends.”
you learnt quickly upon befriending satoru gojo that he always seems to get what he wants. this is no exception, because after he spends so long fucking you with his tongue that his knees go numb against the cold tile, he’s got you laid down on his couch, his t shirt bunched up over your waist just enough for him to watch his cock sink into you over and over and over again.
he loves the sight of you grabbing at the fabric to keep it out of the way. how you whine for him to just let you take it off, all for him to press his lips to yours and conjoin you so you couldn’t undress even if you tried.
how with each thrust of his ravaging cock into you, he’s whining like he’s not the one in control. babbling filth as if he’s not got you pinned and taking every last inch of him—he’s pussy drunk and overbearing in his excitement and slurring his words as he speaks against your open mouth.
“never allowed to wear your own clothes again,” he steals your breath with each gasp he gives between thrusts. “only mine. i’ll burn yours, fuck, i hate your clothes.”
“you…” gojos fast rutting stalls your sentence. “…you brought me that skirt.”
“yeah? well where is it now?”
you recall the lecture you tried to give him when he threw your wine-stained skirt into his trash. you’d protest his dictation of what you wear if you had the mind to do so—but his cock is hitting your g spot in tandem with the ministries of his fingers over your clit… you’re half-near brain dead with the way he splits you open and unravels you like the threading of his clothes he’s fucking you in.
you can’t count your orgasms, only feel them shoot static up your spine with each one gojo manages to pull from you. and when he cums he does so right over your parted thighs to dress you further in himself. you swear you hear him babble something about putting a ring on your finger some day, to dress you in something of his permanently.
with final exams rolling around the corner, your procrastination for studying was at an all time high—hence you roping in gojo to pull an all nighter study session together in his dorm room. not that he particularly needed the extra studying, he knew the material better than the professors themselves did, so he mainly focused his time onto teaching you.
it was exhausting, to say the least. he constantly had to pull you away from the most random ass distractions one would possibly think of. satoru had to deal with you wanting to; bail on studying to go and try the new starbucks iced dubai matcha latte, buy overpriced bikinis on tiktok shop although you were in the middle of the snowiest month of winter, and he even had to deal with you magically reviving your long lost habit of reading.
with a frustrated sigh, satoru practically had to pry the romantasy smut out of your surprisingly strong fingers.
“oh, come on! if you can spend hours on end reading nothing but straight porn, why can't you at least spend ten minutes reading the textbook??” he reasoned with an exasperated groan.
you blinked at him like he asked the stupidest question to date,
“hello? because i like thinking about getting railed, not about the type of wood the toilet william shakespeare was taking a shit on while dreaming up macbeth??”
“you’re so dramatic,” he sighs, “and for the record, it was mahogany.”
you stare at him unimpressed, "seriously?"
“no, smartass.” he quips with a smug smile growing on his face. you recognized that quirk of his lips, it usually meant he was about to start going on a long-ass geeky ramble. “mahogany was introduced to europe half a century after he died, since he died in 1616 and it was later discovered in the americas and the caribbean—”
your stomach grumbling like a foghorn put a pin to his little history lesson. his eyes soften in concern, now that he thinks about it, he can’t remember the last time he’s seen you eat since you two started this little study slumber party.
“you want something to eat?” he offers quietly, already opening doordash on his phone “i can order that stupid consumerist starbucks junk, if you still want it?”
“ooh, yes please! and it's not consumerist, it's performative. like your outfit right now, i mean, who shows up to a study slumber party in a quarter zip and fancy jeans?”
“alright, keep judging my fashion choices and you’ll have to pay for your own food,” he threatens emptily, knowing that he would never make you pay any bill in his presence. he presses order on his phone and rolls up his sleeves so that he could focus back on the study material at hand. the action, unbeknownst to him, almost sends your eyes bulging out of your skull because holy shit. when the hell did he get so buff??
he assumes you’re gawking at him because of his lame ass joke. he meant the whole ‘paying for your own food’ thing as a light quip to get your mind off your stomach, but quickly flusters when he sees how fiercely you’re gaping at him.
“w-what? did i say something wrong? why’re you looking at me like that? is the joke over?”
maybe all that faerie porn that you consumed earlier was messing with your head, because why did satoru—satoru gojo, the biggest dork who you’ve called your best friend your entire life—look so tantalizingly hot right now? everything down to the way he was messing around with his glasses like a nervous puppy was sending an unwelcome heat to your core.
“say, have you been working out?” you ask stupidly, your gaze tearing away from his forearms to laser focus on the way his pants look just a smidge tighter than they did a few minutes ago.
“i—uhm, yeah, i guess? sometimes when i want to get my mind off school. why?” he glances away when he meets your gaze, you don't even care that you’re practically ogling him right now, your mind has turned to complete mush.
the more you looked at him, the more you noticed things that you somehow never seemed to register in all the years you two have spent together. like how his hair was falling juuust right over his undercut, the veins on his hands perfectly pronounced from how tightly he’s gripping his pen, and he has this look in his eyes, one that told you maybe you weren't insane to think that he was checking you out in the very same way.
a wave of boldness washes over you as you see the poor boy practically sweating a river trying to hide the tent in his pants. and you slowly inch towards him, making no move to cover the way your pyjama shorts hitch up as you do so.
"wh—what are you doing..?" he gulps nervously, and freezes helplessly as you begin to play with his hair, starting to trace your fingertips over his ivory locks down to his nose, down to his chin and lower, lower, lower.
his adam’s apple bobs up and down at your ministrations, but when you gently run your fingers over his chest—thats when his composure finally snaps. “oh, fuck this.” he growls and grips you by he hips to flip you two over onto his bed. the sudden action making you laugh in exhilaration. “you really wanna keep teasing me? fine. let’s see if you can finish what you started.”
he pries your thighs apart, looking like a man possessed. the pads of his fingers slowly inch up from your knees to your inner thighs to the edge of your underwear, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
he's edging you the same way you did to him—you realize. the thought makes you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.
he slides his hand into your panties and starts stroking you with his fingers, carefully and gradually increasing the tempo. you’re seeing stars so vivid you wonder if this is all a crazy dream from studying so much astrophysics with him.
he then grips the elastic part of your underwear with his other hand, rubbing the soft fabric with his thumb. “may i take these off? please?” he whines hoarsely, his self-control was rapidly fraying at the edges, but he'd never push you past your limits, always respecting your boundaries.
you can’t even find the mental capacity to form words, you just nod vehemently.
he brings both his hands to the elastic and takes off your panties for you. he looks strangely at it for a moment, clenches it in his hand, and then throws it somewhere on the ground. yeah, you were never seeing those ever again.
he leans in, grabs your waist, pulling you towards him and brings his face to your center, exhaling on your sensitive clit. wetting it, teasing you.
your toes curl and you grab his hair for support, he leans back with a smug smirk on his face and grasps your both wrists with one hand, bringing them up and pinning them securely above your head.
“keep them there, baby. i'm going to make you feel so good.”
he presses one kiss to your thigh, then another, then another, until you were so pent up that you instinctively bucked up your hips to meet the friction on his face you so desired, whimpering as you feel his rough stubble scratch perfectly against your clit.
in hindsight, an obvious mistake.
he pauses for a second, lifting his head up to look at you. spread out and looking so so desperate for him. with a wicked smirk on his face, he finally dips his tongue inside of you, drawing out a strangled whimper. he doesn’t let up, pushing up his tongue and curling it inside your gummy walls until tears slip down your face from how much pleasure is being forced into you at once. he grins like he struck gold and looks back up at you,
“yeah, come on, baby. keep telling me how good i make you feel.”
your moans only get louder, and you arch your back because it feels so fucking perfect. you never would’ve imagined poor dorky gojo being such an insatiable monster in bed, and the thought of that only pitches up your whines again.
“you’re so wet, its driving me fucking insane.” he groans lapping up every last drop like a starved animal, “if your absurd romantasy porn is anything like this, you’re gonna have to put me on.”
you feel yourself at the very brink, and he notices it too, because he digs back in with a renewed fervor, bringing two fingers up to gently roll your bud between them while tongue fucking your hole.
“oh—oh fuck” you moan, “toru, i'm so close..”
the nickname alone is finally enough to send him over the edge.
he lets out a sharp groan as he feels his own release, the damp spot on his jeans growing, but he would rather die than ever let you know that he shot a fucking load from just a nickname, so he tries his hardest to rein in the ecstasy bleeding into his voice when he mutters, “t-then come for me, love. i know you can.”
and just like that, your orgasm overwhelms you too. your head is thrown back as white hot bliss crashes into you—drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth. he holds you like that for a few seconds, grounding you back to him as he softly whispers in your ear,
“you did so good, my sweet girl," he gently caresses your hair, "i knew you could do it, you’re so brilliant for me. so perfect…”
——
“satoru, where the hell did my underwear go?” you ask a few days later upon returning to his dorm room for another ‘study session,’ “those were my favourite pair!”
third drawer in his closet, hidden behind his astronomy textbooks and boxers.
he doesn't even pretend to look around before shrugging innocently.
“ill buy you more, don't worry. you don't even need to keep searching for ‘em.”
a/n : okay okay first time writing smut😭 i lowk feel like i betrayed the smut-hating me from literally 1 month ago but what can i say?? im a changed woman 🙂↕️🙂↕️
18+ cockwarming nerdjo while doing your makeup ❤︎
you're perched on satoru's lap by your pretty pink vanity (that your sweet dear boyfriend bought and built for you), applying your glittery eyeshadow to the lids of your eyes. as you lean forward, satoru's fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, a small moan leaving his lips.
you shift a little bit, adjusting yourself as you sift through your makeup bag. and that makes him mewl softly under his breath, "baby... don't move so much."
you look at your boyfriend through the mirror and the way he's fluttering his eyes shut, mouth parted slightly, and cheeks flushed a bright pink, it make your pussy clench tight around his length. "now you're being mean," he pouts, pressing his chest flush against your back, planting a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
"how am i being mean?," you coo in faux innocence, batting your lashes so coyly and prettily. you raise your hips up and slowly come back down on him while putting on your blush, and the subtle movement makes satoru whimper, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a small nibble of your skin.
"you know what you're doing," he huffs, pushing his glasses up his nose and his eyes look so wide and dejected like a puppy's, it makes your heart and pussy flutter. you hear him curse quietly, bucking his hips a little to gain some sort of friction and pleasure. and when he tries to continue, you pinch his thigh which makes him both squeak in pain and annoyance.
"c'mon," he whines, jutting his bottom lip out even further. "please. can we just have coitus before you leave?"
"stop saying 'coitus' and say 'fuck' or 'sex' like an adult," you say, applying your soft rosy blush to your cheeks. "and no. you're going to be a good boy and listen to me, right?"
satoru's dick twitches inside your syrupy cunt, drops of pre leaking from his flushed tip and dribbling inside of you when he hears you call him a 'good boy'. you know the effect that little name has on him and so with a defeated sigh, he rests his cheek on your shoulder, watching you with hearts in his eyes as you do your makeup.
though all he can think about is bending you over the vanity and fucking you senseless as you scream his name and cream all over his dick ♥︎ !
synopsis: when your friends convince you to go to a party and you see your ex-boyfriend kissing someone new, you find yourself unknowingly running into the arms of his rival.
pairings: frat!gojo x f!reader x frat!sukuna
chapter one: distraction
wordcount: 2.4k
a/n: first time posting on tumblr! i posted this first on ao3 since i wasn't really sure and how to post on here and i felt a bit shy about it. there will definitely be things missing but i will add them as i figure things out. i'm not sure if this will do well but i thought i'd give it a try. hope you enjoy! :)
masterlist | next chapter
It had been three months since you ended things with Satoru. Or had he ended things with you? It was all a huge blur, and thinking about it elicited a headache that no brand of pain medication could relieve.
Your lives had been intertwined since you were kids, so suddenly not having him around made life harder to navigate. And the fact he was your first and only everything made moving on impossible. He was all you had ever known.
Where did things go wrong? This was a question you would often ponder late at night, when there was no distraction to prevent your thoughts from consuming you.
You were so certain that he was the one you would marry. The one you would share children with someday. You were so irrevocably in love, the notion of being without him felt unimaginable. Unfortunately for you, being without him was now your reality. And it was a reality you had chosen whether knowingly or unknowingly.
There was a shift in Satoru during your first year of university. You had felt it then, though you hadn’t thought anything of it. He started to pull away; it was a change that almost went amiss but you knew him all too well. That slither of distance soon turned into a chasm that you couldn’t seem to cross, no matter how hard you tried. And, oh, how hard you fought to cross that barrier he had built. But he would not let you pass. When push came to shove, you gave him an ultimatum: fight for me or walk away.
Satoru walked away.
You often find yourself wondering what you had done wrong. Why didn’t Satoru love you anymore? Then you would see him so carefree with his friends on campus, you would walk past him like you were strangers, and it would occur to you that it didn’t matter.
The silent questions of “why?” or “what if?” meant nothing because it was over. Cut and dry, as if you had never known each other to begin with. And that left you hollow in a way that you would never be able to describe to your therapist. Left a hole deep inside you that prescription meds wouldn’t ever be able to fill.
So, yes, you had been wallowing in self-pity and deprecation for the past three months. You kept dwelling on the past, kept hoping for a future with a man that was long gone. This wasn’t coping, this was self-masochism and your childhood friends, ever persistent, realised this and were intent on saving you from yourself.
Their solution? A frat party.
A strained denial slipped your lips immediately at the idea. Couldn’t they have suggested a spa day or a movie night instead? Not like you would have wanted to do any of those, either, but still. A frat party? Satoru was in a frat. The thought caused tears to well in your eyes. You hated how your mind connected him to every little thing.
“Oh, babe. I know it still hurts, but you have to pull yourself together.” Shoko murmured as she leaned down to pull your slumped form into an embrace.
You wanted so badly to reject her words, but you knew she was right – you couldn’t spend the rest of your life in bed, and you knew getting out of your apartment would do you some good. However, dread pooled in the pit of your stomach as you wondered if Satoru would be there. In fact, you didn’t wonder. You knew he would be.
“But--” You tried to evade the evening planned without your input, but Utahime interrupted you before you had the chance to protest.
“No buts. You need this. Yes, Satoru will probably be there. And, you know what? That’s a good thing. Exposure therapy!”
Shoko pulled away from you with a grin. “Exactly. And we’re gonna make you look so hot that he’ll regret ever letting you go.”
As the words left her lips, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You enjoyed the idea of Satoru feeling any ounce of the regret he had made you feel.
“Okay.” The response was simple, but your friends were pleased with it nonetheless.
It wasn’t long before the apartment erupted in giggles and music as it blasted through a speaker. Shoko was not kidding when she said they were make you look hot. You stared at your reflection, looking better than you had in months.
Your hair was teased and curled, providing volume that made it appear more alive in comparison to the bun it had been thrown into for the last three months. Eyeshadow in shades of grey and silver highlighted your eyes. A simple black dress hugged your frame, gripping your hips and falling just below your ass. You'd never worn anything like it, not that you dressed modestly by any means. But this was daring, even for you. And it made you feel incredible, confident in a way you hadn’t experienced in forever. A pair of sleek, black knee-high boots adorned your feet, completing the look.
You looked ten times more powerful than you felt, but perhaps that was a good thing. Right now, you were wearing a mask, and you could not let that mask slip tonight. Not in front of Satoru. It was your turn to make him suffer.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Tipping back a few drinks before making your way to the party did wonders to quell your nerves. It meant you couldn’t back out at the last second, meant that you cared a little less about seeing Satoru.
As soon as you walked through the door to the frat house, Shoko and Utahime in tow, you headed towards the rest of your friends, friends that you shared with Satoru. Your group had been close-knit since you met in high school, and your breakup didn’t change that.
They all stared in shock as you approached, not expecting to see you out, but grinned nonetheless.
You found yourself sat next to Kento on the couch. Conversation was easy with him. He was the kindest of all your friends and he didn't judge, which was perfect for what you were about to ask him.
“So, do you think you’d be able to tutor me?” You asked with a shy smile, feeling a little embarrassed and a lot pathetic for letting your grades slip in the first place. “My grades have kinda slipped, ever since... y’know.”
“Of course. Just text me when you’re free.” He responded easily, no questions asked.
“You’re a lifesaver, Kento! This is why you’re my favourite.” You exclaimed, pulling him into an overenthusiastic, tipsy hug.
Conversation was steady, your friends didn’t poke around the sore subject that was your breakup with Satoru. In fact, he was rarely mentioned and you were glad for it.
After a few drinks, Shoko pulled you up to dance and you lost yourself in the music. For the first time in three months, you felt happy, that there was more to life than heartbreak and loneliness. That was until you glanced across the room and saw a familiar pair of lips against another’s.
You froze and swore you could’ve felt all the blood drain from your face. The room stopped, if only for a moment. Shades of blue light danced around the room, illuminating the scene. Three months. It had been three months, and he had already moved on. That seemed quick, didn’t it? Or were you just crazy? You watched and waited. But what were you waiting for? For him to push her away? To tell her to get lost, he had a girlfriend?
Then you had to remind yourself: you weren’t together anymore; he didn’t have a girlfriend; he was within his right to kiss whomever he wanted. It was irrational to feel as hurt as you did. In fact, you should have expected this. Yet for some reason, you hadn’t expected this at all.
Some part of you hoped that he hadn’t moved on either, that he still held onto the hope that you would find your way back to each other. But that was naive, and you should have realised, should have accepted that it was well and truly over.
Shoko soon stopped dancing too and followed your gaze. She muttered a curse under her breath once she realised what was happening. When you finally tore your eyes away, you looked amongst your friends who had since paused their conversations. They had a guilty look about them, Shoko too, and your stomach dropped. They knew. They must’ve known. Satoru had moved on, your friends had known and they hadn’t told you.
Your fun was short-lived, the alcohol had practically dissipated from your system, and all you were left with was the gutting feeling of betrayal. Shoko moved in front of you, speaking words that you were unable to register. You shoved past her, making your way towards nowhere in particular – you needed to get away. Fast.
The dress felt too tight, too constricting, as you moved through the throng of bodies. Sweat beaded on your skin, your hair stuck to your neck and your makeup smudged further with each tear that you tried to blink away. Everything just felt so wrong. Satoru with someone else, the guilty look on your friends’ faces, the nausea coiling in your stomach.
You climbed the stairs with reckless abandon, ignoring how your name fell from Shoko’s lips in that worried tone. How many times had you asked her if Satoru was seeing someone new? How many times had she lied to your face? You were done with her, done with them all, you decided.
Wobbling down the hallway, you tried to open every door, desperate to find some quiet. It wasn't until you got to the end that you found a door that opened and you threw yourself inside and slammed it behind you without giving thought to checking that the room was empty.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” A deep voice grumbled, making you jump.
Your head snapped up and you were faced with perhaps one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Pink hair pushed up and framing a chiselled, tanned face embellished with tattoos. Ruby eyes, so magnetic that for a moment you believed they had sucked your very soul out of your body.
“Oh, fuck! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” You sniffled, as you furiously tried to blink away the tears that streamed down your cheeks.
If his stony face were capable of softening even a little, you think it might’ve as he took you in. But his eyebrows remained furrowed and his lip curled in what appeared to be disgust or annoyance. Then recognition crossed his carved features.
“You Gojo’s girlfriend?” He asked suddenly.
“Ex.” You replied too quickly as you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand.
A tense silence overwhelmed the space before you decided to break it, feeling far too brave for your own good. Any normal person would have ran out of the room, this man was scary.
"Are you his friend or something?” You rather awkwardly questioned, your voice coming out less confident than you intended and more meek.
“No.” The man said flatly as he worked to light a cigarette. The smoke curled around the two of you as he took a drag and exhaled.
A small cough escaped your lips as you cleared your throat.
“We’ve been broken up for three months. He currently has his tongue down someone else’s throat.” Unsure as to why you were trauma dumping on this random man, you wrapped your arms around yourself in subconscious attempt to shut yourself away.
“That so?” He hummed, taking the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “That why you’re crying?”
You simply nodded, feeling humiliated by the whole ordeal.
“I’m more mad than upset. My friends knew that he was with someone else and they kept it from me. Lied to my face when I asked.”
He grunted in acknowledgement, taking another drag of the cigarette. You were both completely captivated by the action and a nervous wreck at the implication of finding another man so attractive. Nobody but Satoru had ever made you feel this... aroused.
A shaky sigh left your lips as you contemplated your predicament. Chewing on your bottom lip before you regained the courage to speak.
“I should go home. Sorry, again, for barging in like that.”
“You should stay.” The words were spoken gruffly and felt more like a demand than a suggestion.
“Yeah?” You asked anxiously.
“Yeah.” He echoed. “I can help you forget about that jerk. And your friends, too.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
After a few more drinks entered your system and you found yourself grinding against the pink-haired man on the makeshift dancefloor, you felt renewed. Of course, the ache of what you had witnessed tonight hadn’t faded but it had certainly dulled.
It had crossed your mind that you didn’t even know this man’s name, but it didn’t really matter. You were using him for this one night, to forget about Satoru’s tongue down another woman’s throat, to pretend that your whole life hadn’t gone to shit.
You felt stares plastered all over you, branded into your skin, but you didn’t care. You were content with the facade you were displaying, just for tonight. The pink-haired man’s hands began to wander, his face coming to the crook of your neck where his breath fanned your skin. The sensations set your soul alight, reawakening a passion inside of you that you thought Satoru took with him.
His lips planted against a particularly sensitive spot, eliciting a soft gasp as you leaned backwards into his touch. He sucked on that spot, his teeth grazing your skin and you were sure that it would leave a mark. You didn’t mind.
Your own hands came up your body, travelling up his arms before you spun yourself around. You wrapped your arms around his neck, with a newfound confidence, and pulled him into a kiss.
It was warm, hungry and enveloped you. He quickly took control, guiding you, fingers curled into your hips. Hues of red swirled around the room as you tugged him impossibly close. Bodies packed so closely around you felt, suddenly, as though they had disappeared. It was just you and the pink-haired man in this moment. Until a sickening crack disturbed your illusion and your saviour’s lips were ripped from yours.
You blinked, unexpectedly met with the smirk of the now bruised pink-haired man and the furious glare belonging to a familiar set of cerulean eyes.
a/n: comment to be added to the taglist!! adding people who ask until further notice. 🫡
Satoru Gojo loves to see the print of his cock in your stomach - the way it bulges as he slowly fucks in and out of your messy little hole.
How can he not love it?
It it just his size kink though, is it just how possessive he is, feral once he's buried most of his nine inches inside your pretty, eager cunt? Or is it also the simple fact that Satoru wants to breed you.
God it's all he can think when he looks at it, moving up and down ever so slowly, pink drooling tip bruising your puffy cervix. How badly he wants those Gojo heirs in your tummy and how many he wants from you.
"Hah - six. That would be fitting, hmm?" Your eyes are rolled back in your skull, cunt quivering around his thick cock, gasping out when he grips your chin, turning it to face him. "Whatya think, sweetheart?"
"Six... huh?" You blink rapidly, moaning when he folds you in a mean mating press, your knees shoved against your tits, gasping out as you look into insane blue eyes. "Toru..."
"Six," he repeats, cock fucking your messy cunt faster, moaning when you grip him and drip like that, huge hands pressing and dimpling the flesh of your thighs. "Six would be so perfect."
You're fucked out and confused, hands gripping the sheets as the leader of the Gojo clan fucks you dumb on his cock. You barely are able to get a breath, lips swollen from his prior kisses, blinking some sense into yourself.
"Six eyes?" He laughs then, throwing his head back, before lowering, heavy weight pressing you into his mattress, cupping your face in those big hands.
"Exactly sweetheart, six heirs, isn't it perfect?" You gasp out. "Mmm, yeah, I know. We already have to start on your first, but don't worry. I can tell you're ovulating, tits so full, cunt so puffy. Ah baby we are gonna have at least six."
"Six... babies!? Satoru Gojo - ngh!"
Satoru makes sure to fuck his pretty wife into the mattress, laughing softly at how cute you are. He makes sure you cum over and over on his thick length, squirting and gushing a creamy mess down his blankets. You deserve it of course.
You also deserve to be full of his babies.
"Six. Hah... aww, you crying baby? Don't worry, I'll make sure you keep cumming, till there's not a thought in your brain," You're quivering and spasming underneath him. Nails pressing into his biceps, making him groan out. "That's it. She's so ready for all this cum.... you just deserve so much inside you."
˖ ࣪૮₍ 𝓑.𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐉𝐎 𓂃 ⭒ finds out you developed a nasty little kink after your last encounter
⤿ ꒰ he's always seen you as nothing but a stupid, pretty girl, but now he can't get you out of his head :: college au :: slight angst :: smut :: mean!satoru :: degradation :: fingering :: heavy dumbification :: overstimulation :: semi-public sex :: lovesick reader ꒱
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ couldn't get you out of his head after you whimpered those three, devastating words. I love you. he'd always paged you as the stupid type— but that has got to be the most idiotic thing that has ever left your mouth. you? falling in love with the man who used to snicker beside you whenever you were both handed out your test papers in highschool maths class? the guy who used to tell professors that you were a lost cause? the same fucking boy who told you to your face at least once a week that you were just some bimbo trying to make it through your astrophysics course on daddy's money and a ditsy mind? you really were an idiot.
. . . but why couldn't he stop thinking about it?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ was so agitated at himself. whenever he'd close his eyes he'd see your glossy ones blinking up at him and your quivering lips whispering that stupid confession while you bounced on his dick all pitifully. you were cockdrunk, he tells himself. so fucking stuffed with him that it drained whatever little coherent thought you had. you were too focused on the way he smooched your cervix. how he thumbed on your clit. how you clenched and squirted and messed his desk chair.
he finds himself looking back at it. the stain you left behind. he cleaned off what he could but your evidence remained. another thing that pissed him off. until it became the perfect site to relive memories when his cock ached hard in his pants.
strike three to the frustration game. that. every time he let his mind drift off, you'd occupy that space. what a pesky lump of atoms. just invading the free space and making it yours. making him think about how soft your tits felt up against him. how much softer your thighs were quivering on his hips. that sweet, sweet taste of your pussy. how it spilled and fluttered for his tongue.
he found himself thinking. were you a virgin? or just inexperienced? had no one tonguefucked that pretty little cunt like he did? did no one stuff that gorgeous—
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ groans out loud and slumps back into his chair. shoving his foggy glasses up into his hair with one hand and throwing his textbook across the table with the other. he can't do this. can't focus like this. not when you're running laps in his head like you're trying to rewrite the theory of relativity.
“why can't I get that stupid girl out of my fucking heaaadddd. . .” he groaned. almost whined as he rubbed a hand down his blotched face roughly.
he grumbled. looked down at the bulge rising up to greet him. mock him. for fucks sakes. just calling you a stupid girl had him all hard and throbbing. fuck. guess there's no helping it huh?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ hated himself for how he just had to shove his pants down and squeeze his fingers tight around his cock. hated himself even more for how his head threw back and the chair squeaked as he slumped into it while he jerked off his already spilling dick. but he hated himself most for how he grunted your name through gritted teeth and fogged glasses. how he whimpered it when his arm ached but kept desperately pumping at his now cum-stained cock as he bucked his hips up into his own palm.
fucking himself. he was fucking himself to the thought of you. to the memory of how you squelched and splashed around him. to those glossy eyes and drooling lips.
to that. . . stupid little way in which you said you loved him.
that's what really made him squirt ropes so high he accidentally smeared his glasses.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ was convinced he'd be happy if you never spoke to him again. if you never looked his way in class nor asked him one of your silly questions ever. again.
until you did just that.
hold on— were you avoiding him?
sure, you've avoided him before. he has been your worst nightmare since highschool after all. but this was new. you were actively ignoring him. he should be grateful. this is what he wanted, right? this was the only way he was gonna get you and your pretty little moans out of his head.
but with every passing day, every wasted minute, every little second you weren't looking at him. weren't asking him questions. were trying your damned hardest to get out of every single assignment you were both paired for. . . satoru felt himself lose it just a little more.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ officially snapped, however, when he saw you flashing that pretty smile and batting those adorable lashes at jock!kuna. he was well on his way to his next lecture when he spotted it. the ice hockey captain with his hip propped against the railing— and you right in front of him, mimicking him.
satoru could only describe it as coy.
he's not sure he'd seen you like this before. all bright smiles and confidence. that part of him that hated you wanted to go over and shatter the new pride you'd worked up.
but another part of him. a deeper voice that he shoved into the depths of his gut so it rattled his heart, told another story.
just a few weeks ago you were on his dick. whining his name. telling him that you loved him and now. . . what? you suddenly decided you preferred jocks?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ didn't know what jealousy was. not really. he had it all. the brains, the looks— but seeing you with sukuna that day? seeing the way that the bastard walked off after brushing some of your hair back and the way that you smiled up at him as if you knew what he wanted? his blue eyes flared green. so did his mind. so did his heart that he often claimed didn't exist. shouldn't anger be red? shouldn't this feeling be dark? no. just an ugly, festering, clawing. green.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ wasn't quite sure what came over him. all he knew was that when he spotted you in the library the next morning, he acted on instinct. two seconds.
two. seconds.
that's all it took before your back was shoved into shelf and a forearm slammed right above your head. rattling the books and your heart while he was at it.
satoru's wispy bangs framed his glasses that slipped off his nose as he zeroed in on your face. jaw tight. eyes sharp. you'd recognised that sneer. but what you didn't recognise?
that grip on your waist.
“so you can bounce on my cock for hours but now you can't even look at me?”
he didn't need to raise his voice. he was always so articulate. crisp and curt. sharp and to the point. it's what made a valedictorian.
he watched your face intensely. watched your eyes flit. watched your lips part to say something. watched as you put your hands on his shoulders with a hushed, “satoru we're in public.”
but what really caught his attention above all.
was the way your thighs flushed together. tight.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ understood in that moment. the once scrambled pattern set into a precise equation line. all from the tremble in your thighs and the bunching of your skirt.
as much as you'd been avoiding him, he'd been doing the same. not an insult, nor a jab, not even a sly look when your assignments were handed back. it was out of routine.
at the start of the semester you at least used to give him a little greeting. a small smile. some pitiful, hopeless little interaction that would get his tongue lashing out whatever harsh comment he had. but you kept trying. and he kept dishing. it was natural. the push and pull of you and him. positive and negative.
now you were avoiding him. right after he had you riding him like a stupid slut. after he spanked your pussy and called you his silly girl.
icy blues darkened and dilated. the scowl slowly crept into a smirk. he leaned in. voice dropped. smooth and low against your burning ear.
“oh?“
he loved the way you sounded when his hand shoved against your thighs. his large palm crumpled your skirt and cupped your cunt. rough and careless.
his grinning teeth grazed your lobe.
“looks like someone found a new kink and doesn't know how to deal with it, huh?”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ ground the heel of his palm up into you. rutting into the quickly dampening fabric and grinning at the way your hips immediately rocked into his hand. like a fucking sleeper agent awoken by just a bit of friction. or maybe it was the insults?
“is that what you needed?” he grunted. “seriously? just needed me to be mean to you? not interested if not?”
satoru's free hand snatched your jaw. squishing your face between the gaps of his fingers as he watches you ride his hand like second nature. he watched you crumble. watched you whimper and whine as he shoved you further into the shelf. held your face steady and loomed in with an irritable, taunting grin.
his tongue clicked. his croon low and condescending.
“what a fucking freak.”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ knew he couldn't get you all squirming and squirting in the library. not with the way you gripped his shoulders and tried to hide your moans in his shoulder. not with the way it hasn't even been a few minutes and you were humping his hand like it was gonna get you extra credit— you'd get the both of caught. so despite his better judgement, he yanked you off and shoved you into some supply closet. face first in the wall. one hand clamped over your panting lips while his other jerked into your skirt. gripping the garter of your wet panties and yanking up. so that he ground the soaked fabric into your already quivering clit.
his breath was heavy. a tremble in his knuckles and his voice as he felt you buck back into him. trying to chase the hot curve of his bulge flushed against your ass.
“fuck— maybe I was right about you.” his foggy glasses nudged your temple as he pressed his face into it. inhaling the scent of your hair as a unholy riiiipppp! tore through the air.
“maybe you really are just a stupid slut. maybe—” he rutted his dick up into your ass, his jaw tight. “maybe you like being just that. huh?”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ had your ripped panties pooling round your wobbly knees. soaked through and sagging from the absolute filthy mess that two of his fingers fucked out of your squelching cunt. knuckles humped on your spasming slit while the tips rubbed and fucked into all the spots that sent your eyes rolling back.
you were squirming. rutting into his hand. arching with every rabid pump of his hand. slick dripping down his wrist and soaking the sleeve of his cardigan. but he didn't care. couldn't— not with the way you were whining. not with how he was panting.
feral. very few things made him this way. an academic rival. an exam that made him work for it. maybe an equation that took him more than ten seconds. but you? oh you weeded this messy, mean side of him just by existing. by being a dumb girl who spilled all over his hand and rolled your glossy eyes back when he called you stupid.
you were loud. terribly so. moans and whines and little sobs muffled against his hand that squished firm against your cheeks.
satoru squeezed you harder. flicked his wrist and jammed his thumb up against your clit to rub on the poor bud until you were whimpering. a muddled attempt at his name from what he could make out.
“so fuckin' loud.” his hand yanked out. gooey strings webbed all over. your protest rumbled on his palm—
spank!
and his other gave a dirty smack up against your throbby cunt. "listen to that dumb pussy. gonna get us caught with how loud she is. that what you want? want someone to see how you're better off as a stupid slut?“
wet, and sharp. once, twice, five more spanks before his fingers flattened on your clit and rubbed cruel circles until you were arched and limping. squirming and spasming. sobbing.
the hand on your mouth relented. two fingers shoved into the drooling mess and flushed against your tongue. pressing against the back of it so all you could do was splutter. whimper. slump into him and rock your hips into the third orgasm that squirted all over the supply closet floor.
“messy thing.” he tsked. delivered one more sharp spank. and then shoved you back into the wall. humping on your ass to relieve some of the pressure on his aching erection since you seemed too dumb-fucked from his hands alone to actually help him out.
his heavy grunts and groans fanned your ear. arms crushing you against him. he wasn't gentle. didn't care to be. he's sure you didn't want that either. not with how you were whispering his name like a fervent prayer and pitifully trying to grind your sopping cunt back onto him. smearing his crotch in your creamy cum.
“this 's how it's gonna be,” he panted, ragged. hands squishing your thighs as a release built in his gut.
“gonna bring you back here between classes. fuck these pretty thighs. maybe that stupid face too. cause you're into that, huh? hah— into being treated like a stupid girl.”
his hand slipped up. trapped your face again and forced it back on his shoulder for his hot mouth to press into yours. tangled with your tongue and high on your saliva as he lost himself. lost all that prestige. all that stature. every inch of perfection shattered. all because your body drove him wild.
maybe he was just as much of a freak as you were.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ knew the second he took you back to his dorm and fucked you into his sheets until you were all teary and babbling— that something shifted for him. something dark. something dirty. there was something about the way you looked up at him with glassy eyes. about the way you clung to him. with your arms strewn around his neck and your little sobs in his ear. as you begged for him to fuck you deeper, fuck you harder.
there was something about the way you whimpered "I love you" that stirred something deep within him.
and as you laid there in his arms. limp and out cold. an absolute mess of cum, sweat and bites. he asked himself a simple question as he stroked a thumb on your cheekbone.
did he love you?
his heart stopped. panicked.
no.
he didn't love you. he didn't know what love was. didn't have a heart. all he ever needed was his mind.
it was that very mind that you kept occupying. he told himself he didn't love you, but he couldn't quite get you out of his head either. so maybe this was a nice in between.
he didn't love you. but you loved him. he needed a release. and you needed someone to make you feel stupid.
so maybe he could just stay fucking that pretty body of yours and keeping you wrapped around his finger if it meant maintaining his sanity?
yeah. sounded like a plan. his mind said that it didn't want your heart. but it sure as hell wanted your body.
˖ ࣪૮₍ 𝓑.𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐉𝐎 𓂃 ⭒ bounces you on his cock cause he thinks you're stupid
⤿ ꒰ he's always seen you as nothing but a stupid, pretty girl :: college au :: slight angst :: smut :: mean satoru :: degradation :: f. oral :: fingering :: riding :: dumbification :: overstimulation ꒱
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ has been your worst nightmare since highschool. belittling you, shaming you, making you feel like you were the dirt beneath his shoe. unlike other bullies, he didn't have to push you around and slam you into lockers to make your gut twist. no, all he had to do was toss you a smug smirk over his shoulder whenever your mathematics exams were handed back. his red-circled A++ crumpling your hopes into your measly B-. you thought things would be different in college.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was nothing if not dedicated. to his valedictorian status and his relentless belittling. hell, the second you stepped foot into your quantum physics class— he scoffed. then grinned as you reluctantly made your way to the only empty seat. . . right beside him. “my, what's the bimbo doing here? daddy's money must be doing wonders.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ rolled his eyes as he passed by you in the hallway and saw you talking up a male classmate. muttering under his breath, “no wonder your grades are falling.” only to send you a wink when he catches your crestfallen look.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was not impressed when you were both paired for an assignment together. he actively tried to protest against the professor, but soon settled for it. before you knew it, he was in your dorm and grumbling over a textbook. shuffling over his laptop with an cooing tongue click and condescending head tilt. “aww. you really don't get it, do you?” then grinned mockingly as you shook your head with big eyes and a trembling lip. “silly girl. looks like I'll be carrying us again.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ rolled his eyes when you came to him all teary because— he was right. your grades were slipping. hell, you never wanted to be in astrophysics. your parents forced you. and now here you were with a crumpled up paper in your hands and crying to your bully, begging him to tutor you. he agreed with slumped shoulders and a groaning, “fine, whatever. just don't waste my time.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was awful the entire time, no matter how hard you tried. he'd explain things that your brain couldn't process and lecture you when you wouldn't get it. and when he had enough of your tears? he snatched your chin, thumb swiping below your eye. “stop it.” he muttered. “stop it. stop crying. you can't help that you're stupid, now can you?” and when you didn't? well. . . let's just say he was inclined to make you cry in a more pleasurable way.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ soon enough, had you sprawled over the table. textbooks and stationary strewn all over as he thumbs on the soaked fabric between your quivering thighs. creating a perfect friction against your trembling clit as you bucked and whined into him. another hand dwarfed your inner thigh as he pressed it down, keeping you wide open with a grinning, “now what did I say? keep those legs open for me. you can do that, right? not too dumb for that?”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ took great pleasure in making you pay for wasting his time. he sucked on your clit through your panties until they were drenched with his saliva and your messy cum. allowing you to grip his hair only when he yanked your panties down and latched his mean mouth onto your pussy. licking, suckling, ruining you on his tongue while he glared at you from over his glasses. “suuuchhh a slut,” he huffed, fogging his spectacles. “no wonder those grades are slipping.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ fingered you open with two long digits. lips fixed to your clit and assaulting it with his tongue as he surged you through yet another sticky orgasm. fingers slow, steady and cruel while his mouth was ravenous. switching between your slit and throbbing nub. doubling down when you clung to his hair and whimpered out his name. he wouldn't admit to how hard he throbbed when you whined it like that. instead he dragged his tongue from your slit to your clit and groaned into the stringy mess.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ leaned back into the chair and let you bounce on his cock. it was the least you could do after wasting his time, right? “stupid girl,” he huffed, swallowing a groan as he tweaked on your nipple. grinding his hips up filthily. once, twice, until you were clinging to his shoulders and humping on him like a pitiful slut. he clicked his tongue and watched as your pussy stretched. squelching and squirming all over him. “maybe you should just drop out, huh? drop out and be a slut for a living. you're better at it.” as he spanked! your ass. then gripped tight.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ who toppled you over him when your bounces became weak grinds. hands fisting your ass and squeezing you on his thick cock as he pounded up until you were whining and drooling in his ear. leaving behind a gooey ring of cream round his base and bubbling your webbed mess all over. his name was on your lips like a lewd prayer. desperate pleas and whines as his pubic bone caught your clit with every rough slam. “just can't do anything right, can you sweetheart? fuck, stupid little girl with the prettiest pussy.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ lost himself when you creamed him for the nth time that day. a hand fixed to the back of your neck as he rolled his hips up in jagged thrust. making you whimper. squirm. and all he did? grin. “there ya go. that's it. take it. fucking. take it.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was not prepared for your lips crashing onto his. for your hands clinging to his hair and your whines spilling into his mouth. and most definitely not for your spluttered little: "I love you— I love you satoru— toru, toru I love you, I love you!”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ had to leave the second he'd cleaned you up and tucked your sleeping form into bed. stumbling back to his dorm, slamming his door shut. he white knuckled the counter and hunched over. heart pounding in his ears as he replayed your words over, and over again. I love you. I love you satoru. he scrubbed a hand down his face. cupped his mouth and nose as he breathed heavily, then looked into the mirror. hair disheveled. eyes puffy. no, no, no no no no no. what the fuck did he just do?
angst, crack, proximity, fastfood romance trope, doomed soulmates, cheesburger: do not eat
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who is your one and only soulmate on the McKaisen menu; the two of you are always paired together, hotly cuddling up next to you in every Fluffy Meal™, his cheesy smile and aroma is priceless... just kidding it's like $3.70
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who watches you get absolutely soaked... because you're cooking in oil. He just knows how crispy you're gonna be for him, his crispy girl. No other batch of fries is as pretty as you, not even milkshake!Geto can compare
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who winks at you, his big, beefy and bready body squished up against your smaller, oily frame, "Looks like it's just the two of us, huh? C'mon baby, don't be shy; gonna get some ketchup on your tips f'me?" he purrs, looking up and down the length of you—he swears you've never looked so god damn good before... maybe you're more golden than usual? More crispy? More salty? Whatever it is, he can hardly resist you... and the tight confines of this box ain't helping his rising heat
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who gets in close, buns brushing up against you, "Baby, I can't hold back if you're this salty for me..."
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who puckers up and leans in for a taste of your crispy lips, only for the moment to be disturbed by a blinding light coming from seemingly heaven above—the box opens from the top, and his patty quivers in fear. "Don't worry, I've got this... I'm the cheesiest, remember? Nobody's gonna hurt you as long as I'm near."
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who is bitten clean in half, teeth cleaving his middle.
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO who cries out to you when he is taken from the loving warmth of your shared Fluffy Meal™ box, instantly missing your oversalted sent
CHEESEBURGER!GOJO whose wails are heard down some cruel oesophagus as he's swallowed, wishing the heartless eater would have at least had a habit of eating burger with fries at the same time like you're fucking supposed to no seriously fight me bitch like why would you have FRIES first are you insane?? by the time all that salt has dulled your tastes, the burger is getting COLD you IDIOT just EAT THEM TOGETHER you MCSLUT
ㅤ⋆ 𝖛𝖊𝖊𝖏𝖎𝖊𝖟
@cupidstrace you can be the burger, @sweethearticism you can be the fries, @bluukive you can be the lil ketchup packet, and i can be the box you guys fit inside <3
