I'll be writing about the beautiful love story of Gojo Satoru and Amagi Safaia. How they met and how they came to be. I hope to spread their love to everyone by showing Gojo Satoru's diary. From Gojo's perspective on falling in love with Safaia.
Gojo Satoru Diaries
New Friends
Amagi Safaia
New Beginnings
Surprise
Digimon/Playing with kids
Special Day part 1
Special Day part 2
Email Texting
Food tastes better with friends
Stop Teasing Me
Miss. Flexible
Maybe in the future, I'll do some stories from Amagi Safaia perspective.
the nerdy boy (gojo satoru) in your class keeps staring at you.
he’s a peculiar one.
he always sits in the front rows in the university lecture hall, and often raises a hand to ask or answer questions. sometimes he makes additions to what the lecturer said, other times — he makes corrections. he’s a blessing for some educators and a nightmare for others.
very smart. almost concerningly so. there are times when you think he should be the one leading the lectures instead of the professors. most of them seem uncomfortable in his presence, often glancing his way for a nod of approval during class, clearly distressed and wary of yet another academic confrontation, because gojo satoru — as much of a nerd he is — is not the quiet and easy type. he’s considered arrogant and hard to manage. perhaps, courtesy of having a threateningly vast knowledge and a unique way of justifying his point, which he seems to be very proud of. he’s almost cheeky when he speaks, using a respectful form of speech but with an undeniable and evident (very much on purpose) undertone of arrogance in the way those very respectful words come out of his mouth. it can drive a person crazy.
but every time he’s done speaking, he turns back to look at you. as if to check, if you are listening to him. to see if you notice him. as much as he tries to be subtle about it, you see it. maybe he thinks the strands of his fluffy hair that fall on his face and the glasses he wears help hide the direction in which he is glancing at.
but you see it, and soon enough you figure it out — that the nerdy boy in your class has a crush on you, that even a genius like him can become a bit stupid at times.
a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do.
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself.
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen.
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure?
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand.
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this.
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?”
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means.
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders.
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?”
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?”
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod.
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings.
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?”
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago.
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair.
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason.
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body.
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men.
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion.
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.”
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed.
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway.
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.”
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start.
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real.
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.”
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.”
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?”
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but.
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you.
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention.
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams.
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously.
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it.
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his.
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again?
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how.
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command.
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it.
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue.
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname.
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy.
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight.
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.”
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious.
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife.
warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby, my sweet, cupcake), underage drinking, w33d, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, rough sex, overstimulation, dub/non-consented sex, drunk sex, handjob (if i missed any jus tell me but pls fr don't read this unless ur an adult)
word count/plot: [15.1k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins..
a/n: here's part 2, i thought it would take 3 posts to post this chapter but it seems its about to take four smh. more content for u guys tho!! woot woot!! happy reading
ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]
Shoko sat her down in front of a vanity.
“Alright, now that hair is done we can do makeup.”
Ara stared as Shoko opened all the drawers of the extravagant vanity before her, revealing a countless amount of high-end makeup. Most of it barely touched.
“Shoko!!” a girl yelled from downstairs.
“What!” Shoko yelled back only for silence to follow.
She rolled her eyes as she mumbled to herself, “What does Arden want now,” she gestured toward the makeup, “Knock yourself out, I’ll be back.”
“Wait—“
Shoko turned around, eyes alert.
Ara hesitated before admitting, “I don’t know how to do my makeup.”
Her eyes widened, “Forreal?” She then crossed her arms, “Actually I can’t even blame you, I only started doing my makeup like a year ago.”
“Would your Mom do it for you?” she asked, considering the fact that the vanity before them was hers.
“Nah, I had a makeup artist.” Shoko appeared to be in thought before she said, “Hold on.”
She walked out of the room and yelled, “Anybody here good at makeup??!”
A ton of feminine voices arose, answering her. Ara wasn’t the least bit surprised since half of their school’s female population was here.
She heard Shoko yell something before peeking her head back in the room, “Alright, we got help for makeup. Do you want anything to drink?”
Ara hesitated. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t drink after the last party but—
“SHOKO!!”
“IM COMING IDIOT!” Shoko yelled back before saying, “I’ll be back.”
She left within a blink of an eye, only for someone else to enter the room a second later. Karina.
Ara stared as Karina walked closer, looking insanely perfect as usual. She also had a bottle of Pink Whitney in her hand.
She set the bottle down on the vanity, “You need help with your makeup?”
Ara waited for the random bout of laughter erupting from somewhere downstairs to pass before answering, “Yeah..”
“I got you,” she murmured before looking through the drawers for something. She seemed to find it and asked, “You already washed your face right?”
“Yes.”
Karina quietly applied the primer to her face before suddenly asking, “Why didn’t you come to my party that time?” she paused in her actions, “I was expecting you..”
Fuck. It’d been months, Ara had hoped she’d forgotten. Besides, that night had probably been one of the worst moments of her life. She wanted to laugh—to think all of it started simply because she wanted to go to her party.
“Yeahh, I wasn’t able to make it.” she muttered vaguely.
“Why?”
“I think I was too tired.” she lied.
“Hmm,” Karina picked up another product and swatched it on her wrist, “I see you got back with him.”
Ara glanced at her but was unable to gauge anything from her countenance, “I- I did.“
Suddenly Karina sighed, “Ugh, I don’t blame you. He eats pussy so damn good.”
Ara’s eyes widened as she continued, “And his dick-why'd it have to be so big? I miss it so damn bad sometimes.”
She shook her head, “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be saying that to his girlfriend but—“ she paused, as if considering something, “He really does like you, y’know.” she muttered begrudgingly.
Ara had a lot to say but settled on, “What makes you say that?”
She paused, masking her hesitation by pretending to look extra focused while dabbing the beauty blender against her skin, “He doesn't answer my texts. Even when you guys broke up he didn’t.”
“You texted him?” Ara asked incredulously.
Karina blushed, “Well—yeah.”
Ara glanced away, she supposed that answered all of her questions.
She then added, as if guilty, “Well, you guys were obviously over then but-like-before we always used to hook up. Like, it didn’t matter who else he fucked he’d always come back to me.”
Ara thought she sensed an undercurrent of possessiveness until she cleared her throat, “But ever since you got into the picture.. he’s different, I guess.”
“Loyal, you mean.” Ara replied flatly.
Karina stopped using the beauty blender, “How’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Lock him down?”
Ara shifted in her seat, “..I honestly don’t know.”
Karina didn’t meet her eyes, merely playing with the concealer in her hand, “I mean.. I see it, you-” she cut herself off as if it hurt to admit, “you are pretty, in that black cat kinda way. I just- I’ve never seen him like that,” her voice faded out slightly, “He’s obsessed with you. I can see it in his face-“
“Trust, it’s not something you want.” she answered instinctively.
“Really?” she asked curiously, “Why not?”
She saw the thoughts brewing within Ara’s mind as she slowly asked, “Has he.. ever done anything.. that scared you?”
“Scared me?” she questioned before appearing to contemplate it, “No?-wait, there was this one time where he freaked me the fuck out cuz I thought I was home alone and he kept moving things around, making me think an intruder or some shit was in the house but-“ she rolled her eyes, “it was just him.”
Ara blinked. The scariest thing he’d done to her was show her he was capable of committing murder without a scratch, while she was talking about a prank.
Karina chuckled to herself, as if it were a fond memory before meeting her gaze, “How’d he scare you?” she asked lightly.
It was clear to Ara then, that Karina had gotten a different Gojo than she had. The side of Gojo she seemed to have was specifically curated just for her, apparently.
Ara tilted her head, deciding to say something partially true, “He scares me when he jokes about baby trapping me.”
Karina laughed before tilting her head back to pour her drink down her throat. She made a face as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
“Fuck, my lipstick-“ she quickly turned around, looking in the mirror to make sure it was right.
In the midst of re-applying some lip gloss, Karina asked, “Who went back to who?”
“Huh?”
“I mean after the breakup,” her voice wavered, as if aware she was prying but couldn’t help it, “Who went back to who. I can imagine him begging you to take him bac-“
“I went to him.”
“Oh?” she raised a brow before turning away from the mirror to look her in the eye.
Ara knew that the whole school knew she broke up with him. She didn’t know how but she assumed it had something to do with Gojo telling his friends or everyone catching onto his lingering stares and moody demeanor during their breakup.
Karina sighed, “you missed him didn’t you.”
“no.” Ara replied a little too fast.
Karina gave her a pointed look.
She suddenly glared, “No, you don’t understand.” her words came out sharp, “He’s not who everybody thinks he is. At all. I shouldn’t miss him, need him, or even think about him honestly but I-“
She placed her head down on the vanity before her. Her arms around her head covering her face, “I’m a mess.” she whispered.
Never in a million years would Karina ever think she’d want to console someone-especially her-and yet, she did. Something about her was oddly compelling, in a way she couldn’t understand but she almost… wanted to.
Karina found her hand resting on Ara’s shoulder, she honestly didn’t know how it got there.
“Look,” Karina spoke calmly, “I don’t know what’s going on with you two but.. i’m pretty sure it’s not illegal to like someone. Sure, issues happen and it feels like the end of the fucking world each time but we’re just in high school. Is it ever that deep?”
Ara wanted to laugh at how trivial she made high school sound. As if it were just a kids playground and not the sole stepping stone to her ideal future.
Karina couldn’t tell if she was truly hopeful or being sarcastic when she overheard her murmur, “High school.. just high school.”
Ara was squished between Shoko’s friends on the couch, whom she was slowly starting to recognize.
“Karina really popped off with your makeup,” Mina said, “I’m gonna need her to do mine next.”
Ara believed her, especially from the way she was staring. She smiled halfheartedly, “Thanks.”
“Ara!”
She turned her head to see where the voice was coming from. It was hard to focus with the music blasting, girls chatting and cameras flashing in every corner of the house, The scent of weed and expensive perfume hung in the air… and Ara-surprisingly-didn’t hate it.
“Yo,” A hand suddenly snapped in front of her. It was Shoko.
Ara liked the way she’d pin-straightened her short hair. It suited her, she could almost imagine how she would look when she was older.
“You need to stop lookin’ moody and be happy. Midterms are over.”
Ara raised a brow, “I’m not moody.”
“Yes, you are. You look like you want to kill someone.”
“What-“
“Oh my god!” Leah suddenly yelled before pointing at the tray before them, “Did you make those?”
Ara hadn’t noticed but it seemed a tray of ombré yellow-orange drinks in cute clear glasses was on the table now. The drinks were topped with ice, cherries and a piece of pineapple. It looked delicious.
“Duh, why do you think I was in the kitchen for so long?” Shoko then bent down to pick up a cup, gesturing that they all do the same.
Arden-who sat on the other side of her-took a sniff of the drink, “How much rum did you put in this?”
Shoko smiled, “Don’t worry about it.”
Arden laughed and Ara couldn’t help but stare at her. How could she tell from one sniff?
Leah stuffed a drink in her hands and Ara looked down at the glass, at her blurry reflection in the ice. She didn’t need to sniff to smell the pineapple and orange juice within the drink.
“What is this?” she asked.
Arden turned to look at her, as if in shock.
Mina chuckled, “It’s a Mai Tai.”
Leah randomly babbled, “Yeah, it’s actually the first drink I had when I was eight.”
“Wait-“ Shoko suddenly deadpanned, “This is your first time drinking this?”
Ara blinked, “..i haven’t drank it yet but, yes.”
“No way.” Arden gasped.
Shoko beamed, “I am so honored. I’ll make you more whenever you want it.”
Mina rolled her eyes, “It’s not that good.”
“Then why don’t you give it back-“
She stared down at the drink once more, tuning out their bickering until she blurted, “Am I gonna die?”
Arden was cracking up, maybe she was naive but she didn’t care. She’d made a vow to herself to never drink but.. she actually wanted to this time. And that scared her.
It scared her because she wasn’t the type to break her own promises. And yet, all she could think about was that blind happiness she felt the last time she was drunk. That comfortable lightness that took over her thoughts and body, letting her tongue run loose and her mind go bye bye.
It was nice, so nice. Until it wasn’t. Until her memories came b-
Suddenly Shoko’s hand was on her chin, “We’re all gonna die one day, right.”
“Cornball.” Mina joked.
Shoko stuck her tongue out before raising her glass towards them, “Shut up and drink.”
And they did. With a clink of glasses, her vow was broken.
There she is.
A grin split across his lips when he spotted her. His bright eyes looked her up and down before groaning internally. She wore a sleeveless maroon mini-dress that ended just a little under her hips. The dress was skin-tight, barely hanging onto her sensuous tits-which sat so fucking nicely cuz she was braless. Fuck. He loved when she was braless.
She was mid conversation, running a hand through her thick locks when he came up behind her.
“Hey sexy~” he smiled into her temple when he felt her jump. His arms instinctively went around her, his hands sliding up her waist-her ribs-about to cup her b–
She stopped his hands right at her underboobs, merely placing her hands over his and keeping them there. He whined slightly.
“Toru,” she admonished before turning around. She looked up at him with the sweetest of smiles, it was always so subtle-just a little curve to the right end of her pouty lips. God, he wanted to devour her.
She tilted her head, “You’re finally here.”
She looked more stunning up-close, if that was even possible. His hand went to her hips, drawing her closer. He hadn’t noticed her lips moving until she cupped his chin and shook his face-
“Satoru, can you hear me?”
He pretended to bite her fingers, chasing her hand away from his chin.
Her hands came to rest on his chest, “Can you stop checking me out and answer my question.”
He shook his head, smiling boyishly, “I can’t. You look too good. Too good.”
He licked his lips and she shoved him, laughing, “Shut up.”
He grabbed her by the hips again, tugging her close, “Never, never, never~” He buried his face into her neck making her giggle slightly.
She attempted to shove his shoulders as he began to nip at the crook in her neck, “Toru–”
“Let's find a room.”
She finally managed to push his shoulders back, “No.”
Her eyes searched his face as he pouted, “Why?”
“Cuz..” her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chest, then back up again, “not here.”
His pout deepened, “I missed you.”
Her eyes narrowed, but a tiny smile managed to find its way to her lips anyway, “Even though you saw me in school a few hours ago?”
He nodded, his white hair flopping slightly, “Too long.”
Her hands interlocked behind his neck, his mind going haywire when her chest pressed into him as she leaned closer. She tilted her head, “You just want to be in my skin.”
“I do. I do. I do. I do.”
She smiled lazily–as if she already knew. He leaned down to kiss her and she let him. His lips moved against hers while she stayed firm, kissing him back steadily–slowly. Always pacing him, wasn’t she? She broke the kiss, giving him one last peck before leaning back.
He leaned towards her, as if chasing her lips but she quickly placed her finger over his mouth.
“Noo.” she chided him as if he were a puppy.
He smirked before sighing, “Fine. Fine.”
He moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, “What was your question?”
“I asked what took you so long.”
“I went over to Suguru’s cuz they were pre-gaming at his,” He suddenly broke out into a smile, “Haibara broke his TV.”
Her eyes widened, “What–how?”
“He was flying the remote control helicopter and-BOOM! TV cracked. I think he hit the wrong button or something but I was dying.” He chuckled.
She shook her head, “Of course you were. How did Geto react?”
“Oh he was mad. Haibara said sorry a million times but I know he’s still mad.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, “He probably needs a drink.”
He grinned, “Forsure,” He slipped his hand into hers, “Let's go bother him.”
She smiled faintly, “Lets.”
“So that's why-“ Suguru suddenly cut himself off when the song switched, his gaze cut to Satoru.
Satoru's eyes widened before backing up a bit to dance slightly, “Yoo this song.”
Satoru began to get a bit of a groove on while Geto nodded his head in sync with the beat. Ara glanced around to see others on the patio doing the same–dancing.
Suddenly Satoru took her wrist, tugging her towards himself, “Dance with me, Ara.”
She tilted her face up to meet his eyes, “No way.”
Just as she stepped away he pulled her back. His arms slipping around her waist, “C’monnn~”
“i can’t dance—like at all.”
“Who cares,” he whined, “just dance.”
She stepped away from him, raising her hands, “That’s all you, buddy.”
“C’monn, don’t do this to me!” he pouted as she walked off.
The music thumped around them as people hollered the lyrics.
Mina lowered the mascara wand and held onto the sink, “Goddamn, the whole house is shaking,” she sucked her teeth, “Can’t a girl fix her mascara in peace.”
Ara ran a hand through her hair, removing a random piece of glitter with a frown.
“Should we get more shots?”
Ara glanced over to see Mina looking at her expectantly.
It didn’t sound like a bad idea.. Ara smiled somewhat shyly, “Sure.”
Mina’s face brightened, “Bet. Let's go.”
The girls giggled as they ran out of the bathroom.
Shoko was dancing in front of her, singing the lyrics word for word. Her hands on Ara’s shoulders as they moved with the beat. Arden, Leah and Mina surrounded them. The patio was so crowded it seemed like everyone was outside.
“Somebody come get herrr,” everyone sang along, “She dancing like a stripper.” (a/n: song - come get her by rae sremmurd)
Ara swayed her hips, unaware of the bottle getting passed around until Shoko made a mischievous expression. Ara noticed her arm was raised and glanced up, only to see a bottle getting tilted over her.
Ara instinctively tilt her head back, opening her mouth to take in the liquor. She felt some of it trickle past her lips as Shoko jumped along to the music.
Everyone sang the lines, “somebody come get herr, she’s feelin’ all the liquor.”
Gojo was mid-conversation when a tiny bundle bustled into him and sat on his lap. He glanced over to see Ara.
“Ara.” he stated in surprise before giving her a onceover. She looked flushed. Her thick hair was wavier-probably due to the humidity-and her eye makeup had smudged slightly, making the color of her eyes pop. His eyes dropped down to her freshly coated, glossy lips.
Goddamn. He placed his hand low on her stomach as she leaned her head against his slightly, “Hey.”
He smirked, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Choso interjected flatly.
He’d completely forgotten Choso was there. Ara’s eyes brightened as she greeted, “Choso!”
Choso froze-as if starstruck, “H-hello.”
She moved as if to give him a hug but Gojo used his hand on her stomach to keep her close. He raised a brow in surprise, she was not a hugger and he didn’t want her to start being one now.
A soft laugh left him, “Are you drunk?”
She blinked, “No.” She looked between him and Choso before adding, “I just want to sit.”
Gojo smiled subtly, “‘Kay.” He kissed her temple before facing Choso, “What were you saying?”
“Right, so…” and they drifted off into a conversation that Ara could care less about. She truly did need to sit. Her legs hurt from all that dancing. Damn heels.
She shifted on his lap and shifted again, trying to sit comfortably until his hand tightened around her side. “Ara-” he murmured but it was too late, she’d already discovered his hard-on. Her ass was directly on it.
“Right?” Choso suddenly asked.
Gojo blinked, “Uh-yeah.” Not having a damn clue what he was agreeing to.
“Exactly so..” Choso went on.
Gojo had completely lost interest in the conversation when a fierce blush appeared on her cheeks. She’d gone completely still, except for her hand on his knee. Her fingers seemed to flit slightly.
“-I’m telling you, seeing him live is different,” Choso sighed before asking, “Do you think you're gonna go this year?”
“This year..” Gojo faintly repeated the last words he heard, attempting to focus, “It depends..”
“Oh but listen the third time I saw him it was crazy cuz—“
Suddenly her ass-ever so subtly-pressed against his erection, making his eyes widen. He glanced down at her, only then noticing that her hand had tightened around his knee. It was dark enough in the room that no one could see her rubbing her ass against him, especially with how slow she was moving.
His mouth parted in shock, almost wishing the flickering lights could hit them so he could see her ass move on him. He quickly closed his mouth before Choso noticed, he honestly didn’t know how the guy was still going.
He grit his teeth, trying not to groan as her ass cheeks grinded on him. The way her ass pressed against his length was something else—it was only making him stiffer by the second.
She felt so soft against his cock, moving at that agnizing pace.. The last thing he wanted to do was be still, he was gonna lose it.
He wanted to see her face but she wasn’t facing him. He bit his lower lip, hiding his grin. Fuck—he didn’t know she could be like this.
Her ass started to slowly move up and down and he nearly lost it. He hissed, his fingers digging into her hip-but she didn’t stop.
His arms slipped around her torso, tugging her against him as he spoke into her hair-breathless, “Ara..”
She finally faced him, her eyes radiating with mischief.
Oh that’s it. He didn’t have to think when he scooped her up in his arms and stood.
Choso raised a brow, midst speech, “Yo?”
Gojo didn’t spare him a glance, “I’ll be back.”
“Satoru!” she shrieked as she was tossed onto the bed.
He climbed atop her and her hands loosely cupped his neck, “Satoruu..” she whined while shaking her head, “What are you doing? I was just playing.”
“I know, cupcake,” he leaned down to press a heady kiss to her lips. The kind of kiss that rushed through her veins, making her body liquify with fervor until her cloudy thoughts grew clear–crystalizing his want, his need.
He broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between them until he spoke, “I know,” He looked her up and down, “But I don’t wanna play anymore.”
His hand ran down her side, “I wanna have all of you,” He nipped the end of her jaw, “Here, now.”
“Toru..” she whined softly. Her head was spinning. She was too drunk to move on her own. Her fingers twitched over his neck, “Toru, we can’t.. not here.”
“Yes here.”
“Toru-
He easily hoisted her legs over his shoulders, sliding her further up the bed. He then pulled the bottom of her dress up to her waist. The second he glanced between her legs, he groaned. He never got tired of the sight of her cunt adorned in lace panties. It was like a gift wrapped just for him.
She cupped his face, tugging him closer, “Toru please-” Why’d she have to sound so sweet and needy? “Please.. Not here,” She searched his face, “Home, only at home.”
He stared into her dazed eyes for a moment before groaning. He pressed his forehead into hers, “Kitten you can’t just wear this sexy lil dress, grind on me and expect me not to fuck the shit outta you,” He shook his head, “S’not fair.”
His hand slid up her side, hooking under the fabric of her dress to tug it lower–until her chest spilled out the top, “Where’d you learn how to move like that anyway..”
His eyes drank in the sight of her bare tits before meeting her gaze, “You do that to anyone else?”
Color rose to her cheeks as she stared up at him in silence.
She cried out when he began to grind himself against her cunt. She could feel every inch of him–how hard he was. Each stroke against her fast and purposeful, ringing with desperation.
His forehead pressed into her temple, forcing her face aside as he panted, “Answer me.”
She mewled as his grinding picked up, “N-no-ngh! you know this–I’ve never been with an-anyone bu-unnhh-but you.”
He smirked against her cheek before slightly raising his head. His smirk was handsome enough to make her forget how to breathe. It didn’t help that his vibrant eyes seemed to simmer with lust. He knew the answer; he just liked to hear her say it.
He slowed his hips down to drop his face into her neck. His lips instantly finding that sweet spot in the crook of her shoulder and nipped at it. He licked up the dessert-like, mocha perfume on her skin–fuck, he couldn’t get enough. He tasted makeup as well. It seemed Shoko had covered his baby’s love bites. How dare she..
Suddenly the corner of his lip curled deviously. I’ll just decorate her all over again.
He tilted his head, allowing his lips and teeth to mark her as he pleased. His fingers sank into her tits as he palmed her areola, urging her cute perky nipples out. She was moaning and whining so sweetly underneath him—god, he needed to fuck her bad.
“T-toru, not now,” she whimpered, inadvertently rubbing her cunt against his bulge as she churned underneath him.
He groaned into her neck. The pressure of her rowdy hips against his clothed cock—Oh, she had to be dying for it.
“Please-not here. Only at home, Toru, at home.” she whined, her small hands pushing at his chest uselessly.
Suddenly he drew his face back-his voice completely haggard, “Fine, fine. At home.”
His bedazzling eyes fixed themselves on hers, “I’ll have all of you at home..but.. you have to let me do one thing here.”
She spoke through uneven breaths, “W-what is it?”
His eyes lingered on the way her tits moved with each ragged inhale. He felt himself grow tighter inside his pants. Fuck, he really wanted take all of her here.
His eyes swam with lust and mischief as he leaned into her, his cock pressing against her warm cunt, “I wanna taste you.”
“Where’s Gojo?” Toji asked over the blaring music. “He’ll def wanna go. He loves that shit.”
Nanami shrugged.
He glanced over and punched Geto’s shoulder, “yo-you know where he is?”
“Who?”
“Your boyfriend, who else.”
Geto was about to make a snarky retort only to hesitate when he realized he truly didn’t know where he’d gone.
“What are you looking so confused for?” Shoko sauntered before them, joint in hand.
“You know where Gojo is?” Toji asked.
“Satoru? He’s busy.”
Geto raised a brow, “With what?”
“You didn’t see him throw Ara on his shoulder? He took her upstairs,” she took a hit from her joint, shaking her head, “Thank God it's not my house.”
“Damn, already?” Toji grinned, “Can’t blame him though, did ya see her dress?”
Nanami instantly glared at him, “Stop that.”
She was lost. Lost in the abyss of pleasure that made her lose any and all sense—if she had any in the first place. His tongue was so unfair.
The tip of his tongue flicked her clit–making her jerk as she moaned. His hands on her spread thighs the only thing keeping her legs open and body semi-still.
She threw her head back, breathless, as she shook her head side to side, “Satoru.. Satoru!”
His tongue was suddenly gone, his lips still on her most sensitive part. He backed away slightly, lightly kissing her throbbing clit, “You close, kitten?”
Her body twitched, “Toru–stop, stop teasing me.”
Even through her drunkenness she could hear how helpless she sounded. He always knew how to make her so weak.
He chuckled, the faint exhale against her cunt making her inner thighs tremble. She could feel the sensation of her orgasm suspended within her, waiting to spill given the right touch. His touch.
He stared up at her, his eyes gleaming with hunger and a tinge of that typical demeaning playfulness. But she knew he was far from unaffected by this–if anything, playing with her always seemed to get him on to a different degree.
“That’s how it feels like, kitten,” he blew on her tense nub, making her twitch once-more.
“Toru!” she cried.
“--that’s how it feels when you put this pretty pussy on me and tell me not to fuck you.”
His lips found her clit again, sucking it oh so delicately—not nearly enough friction as she needed. She whined helplessly.
He lightly kissed her clit once more, “You wanna cum, kitten?”
She was too out of it to respond. His fingers dug into her soft thighs, making her gasp.
“Let me fuck you here,” his voice was low and eager, desperate, “ ‘Kay?”
She squeezed her eyelids shut, her bent legs wavering in the air. “Toru.. I can’t–can’t think-”
He chuckled faintly, “Then don’t, my sweet, don’t.” His lips were terribly close to her nub again, “I’ll think for you.”
He was instantly lapping her clit up—the pace so consistent that she was easily driven insane. Her breath hitched and suddenly his mouth cupped her clit just right, his tongue probing her most reactive spot.
She cried out as her body bucked. She didn’t see the amount of liquid she squirted out but she felt it pour out of her. The feeling of euphoria that pulsed through her cunt made her thighs shake from its force. Her moan was so loud and defenseless, she couldn’t help but judge herself for how desperate she sounded.
His hands tightened around her thighs to keep her legs spread as he drank in the sight. He loved this–every single bit of her. Her shattered expression down to the taste of her silky juices. She always had so much to give him..
and he knew how to hunt it out of her.
His cock sank into her and he immediately groaned. Her cunt wrapped around him so viscerally tight. She was so fucking hot inside he might as well have dipped himself in warmed honey.
He couldn’t stand it–how perfect she was. Her arched body raised at the hips to let him press into her this deep. Her waist twisting as she lay face down, making the sexiest little sounds as her hands fisted the sheets. He needed all of her. Now.
He squeezed her ass before fucking her exactly the way he wanted to the second his eyes landed on her in that slutty little dress. Her pussy was only his to use and tear apart like this.
The squelching sound of his cock delivering fuck after fuck to her sweet core was music to his ears. He whimpered at the feeling of her walls gripping the sides of his cock like it craved his seed–like it needed him to stay inside.
He bent over her, keeping his forehead to the crown of her head as he gripped her waist. His hands large enough that his fingertips met on either side of her.
He didn’t stop–his cock bullying into her boundlessly.
“I’ll give you what you want, Ara..” his rugged voice trailed down her spine, “I’ll always give you what you want.”
He shoved his cock deep into her and she screamed. He buried his face into her nape as he emptied his balls within her. Cum spewing endlessly from his tip as it filled the condom to its brim. Pleasure consuming every cell in his body.
“Ara..” he groaned against her back, eyes squeezed shut as he retracted his hips slightly and shoved his cock back in. She cried out as he groaned again. His cock felt so fucking good inside her.
“Never have enough of you..” his low voice was filled with such unrestrained desire– “never.”
She gasped, loud enough to make his eyes flutter open.
He reached out, his arm easily wrapping around her waist before he shifted in bed to face her, “What is it?” he mumbled sleepily.
She glanced at him with wide eyes, “Sorr-”
Suddenly he snatched the phone from her hands, quickly turning over in bed so she couldn’t snatch it back if she tried.
His brows scrunched together, “Nails?” On her phone was a picture of hands, hands with very pretty detailed fake nails on Pinterest. He looked over at her, “You want these?”
She jumped over him, snatching the phone from his hand, “Yes, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”
His eyes widened when he felt her bare tits press into his chest as she partially laid over him. Her eyes widened a second later and she quickly turned over, taking majority of the sheets with her. Her back was facing him.
He grinned, scooting closer to her before tugging the blanket slightly, draping more of it over himself. He propped himself on an elbow before sliding his free hand under the sheets. He touched her waist before sliding his hand under her arm around her chest. He sighed when he felt her bare tits against his forearm.
He tugged her close and she squirmed slightly, “Toru-”
He kissed underneath her ear-where several hickeys remained, “Last night was fun.”
She blushed, “For you. I’m sore as hell right now.”
He grinned as she pushed at his arm, “I can’t believe you did that. I was drunk, y’know.”
“You said you weren’t-”
“You knew I was.”
He stuffed his face into her shoulder as his arm tightened around her, “It’s your fault tho, you tempted me.” he whined.
“I didn’t tempt you-”
“Grinding on me?”
She blushed furiously, “I was drunk.”
“You're so hot when you're drunk.”
She reached over and smacked his head at her shoulder. She felt him chuckle into her neck as he yelled, “aH!”
“Gojo I’m serious,” her voice wavered, “I’m really sore. It hurts. You should.. really let me be when I’m like that.”
He was still for a moment before rubbing her hip under the blanket, “I’m sorry, baby–kay? I’m sorry,” He raised his head to lightly kiss her cheek, “I’ll try to do better next time,” He kissed her jaw, “--even though it’s hard–” he lightly squeezed her ass, “--especially when you rub this cute ass on me.”
“Satoru–”
He buried his face into her shoulder again, his arm winding around her chest once-more, “I know, I know,”
She felt him sigh into her neck, “I can’t think when I wanna fuck you y’know. I jus have to be inside..”
She closed her eyes, “I know.”
“..it’s a miracle we even got home.” he mumbled to her neck.
“When did we get home?” Ara asked, suddenly curious since she didn’t remember a second of it.
“Around three. You were passed out by then.”
“Hmm..”
He kissed her shoulder, “You talked to Millie?”
Her eyes shot open, as if surprised–but he’d overheard Millie’s familiar voice when she’d gone to the bathroom earlier.
“Yeah, she called,” she muttered, “She wanted to know all the tea from last night.”
“She’s still grounded?”
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, it’s killing her.”
He smiled slightly, “I bet it is.”
“Andd you’re all set.” The nail lady backed up with a smile.
Ara glanced down at her nails in shock. They looked just like the picture, maybe even better. She outstretched her fingers slightly, looking at both sides of her hands. She felt oddly… empowered. Despite it being the first time getting her nails done, she immediately saw the appeal.
She stood up, still staring at her nails, “Wow, these are… amazing, thank you.”
The nail lady’s smile widened, “Of course.”
She faltered at giving her a smile back before walking out of the beauty room–which she didn’t even know she had. She’d only been joking when she’d told Satoru she was too lazy to get out the house but it didn’t matter–he’d brought the nail salon to her. In mere minutes he was able to book an at-home session with a celebrity nail technician. It was baffling.
And yet, her stomach bubbled with excitement.. excitement that she inexplicably had to share. She walked into their bedroom, only to find no one there.
She walked further into the room, only to find the attached balcony doors open. He was leaning against the railing, talking on the phone. The closer she approached she noticed a few notebooks and his laptop open on one of the tables outside.
He ended the call, tossing his phone up in the air and catching it precariously before sauntering towards his books.
Just as he sat and leaned back in his chair, she asked, “You're studying?”
He immediately glanced up, his big blue eyes instantly brightening once they landed on her, “Ara!”
His eyes dropped to her hands and she quickly hid them behind herself with a small smile.
He squinted playfully, “Lemme seee-“
To his surprise she fast-walked over, holding out her hands for him to see, “Look-look, it looks just like the picture. The almond shape, colors, everything—“ he stared at her, mesmerized by the look of child-like fascination on her countenance as she continued, “I can’t believe it. She even made the stone on my middle finger smaller because I asked. It’s so sparkly too. And the butterfly??” she shook her head, smiling, “-insanity.”
She outstretched her new talons, her smile widening unknowingly, “I love them.”
He tugged her closer, despite her already standing in front of him. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she was drawn in between his long legs. His arms slipped around her waist as he stared up at her, “You love them, kitten?”
She nodded before glancing down at him, “What do you think?”
“I think I need to tip her well for making you smile like that.”
She rolled her eyes-blushing, “Stop flirting.”
“No really-“ he picked up her hand, finally looking at the nails for the first time, “If getting these little fingers dolled up makes my baby happy i’ll have her here every week.”
“Not every week. They’re supposed to last two to three weeks.” she informed him.
“Hmm,” His thumb suddenly brushed the skin underneath the knuckle of her ring finger. His blue eyes flashed with something before he met her gaze with a smirk, “Can’t wait to put something here.”
She snatched her hand away, “You’re so annoying.”
His smirk widened, “You’d love it if I proposed-”
“I’d literally reject you.”
“WHAT?!—you would?”
“I would.”
“Whyyyy~you meanie. Do you even care about me.” he pouted.
Suddenly her hands slid into his hair and she was kissing him. The rest of his whines swept up by her tongue as she bent over him, deepening the kiss invasively. Her nails raked through his thick, white hair as she tugged his face close as if she needed him closer. He nearly groaned.
She broke the kiss, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip as she asked, “Still think I don't care?”
His eyes widened at her quietly spoken words. The flush that bloomed across his cheeks couldn’t be helped. For once, he was speechless.
He held her gaze for a short moment before leaning towards her. Before his lips could connect with hers, she scurried off of him—backing up several steps.
“No, no, no, satoru. You need to study and so do I.”
He was already whining again, “Whyyy~”
“Because,” she shrugged as she walked backwards, “we have to.”
He stood up and she immediately bolted inside the house. He chased after her, giggles and laughter following their wake.
She stared up at the stars and he stared at her. He wondered if she had a morsel of a clue of how much she meant to him.
Loving her was easy for him, as easy as breathing, as easy as the sharp exhale that escaped him when she first turned her back on him.
Sure, it started as a challenge then. A game that only she and him could understand but, he saw her now. He knew why she was the way she was and he liked it. all of it.
He learned her skin, her mind, her voice, her loneliness and he wanted all of it. all of it for himself.
She didn’t know how much he loved her unpredictably. her brattiness, her anger, her kindness, her tears. She gave him her everything and he’d take it every time. It didn’t matter where they were, what universe they were in, he’d find her. He’d always find her.
She turned her head on the grass and looked at him, “Are you even looking at the stars?”
“I am.”
He saw her freeze for a moment. He anticipated her witty response, something like ‘how many times have you used that line’ or ‘aren’t you smooth’ but she held his gaze.
He saw her look between his eyes before her gaze dropped to his lips. He watched as she slowly drew herself up next to him, balancing herself on one elbow as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
He forced himself to stay still, despite his heart racing in anticipation. His eyes stayed on her as her hand came to rest on his cheek, his jaw. She gently pressed her lips to his and he nearly groaned. His hand slid up her side, squeezing her ribs as he tilted his face up–craving more of her.
Her hand on his jaw held him back, instead she lowered herself into him. Her lips prolonging the tenderness of the kiss before she backed away. He closed his eyes, refraining from chasing her lips.
He felt her fingers on his panting lips and opened his eyes. She was completely expressionless–which only made him more keen on knowing her thoughts.
“What do you want to be?” she suddenly asked, before adding, “-when you grow up.”
She expected an unserious response at first-maybe even something flirty. Something like ‘your husband’ or ‘a garbage man’ but-for once-he answered seriously.
He appeared contemplative, “I haven’t decided. I already got an offer from the NBA but I don’t know if I like basketball that much.”
He readjusted his head on his crossed arms, “Obviously, Coach is pushing for that but.. I think following my father’s footsteps would be more interesting.”
He glanced over at her, a small smile spreading across his lips, “As basic as it sounds.”
“Director of National Intelligence.” she stated, “For the US.”
“Yes.” he confirmed, while looking at her curiously. He couldn’t tell how she felt about that.
“Would that make you a politician?”
“Mmm, kind of? I’d obviously have to be a part of the same political party as the president in order to be recommended by him.”
“What else do you have to do?”
“Well, it varies. Some directors have military experience or climb in government service. Some have law degrees or extensive experience in intelligence agencies.”
“Intelligence agencies? Like the FBI?”
“Well, yes and no. It’s more the CIA and NSA-” at her look of confusion, he clarified, “National Security Agency-is experience that they might prefer but I have considered the FBI. It would be different from my Father’s past position but I wouldn’t mind dealing with domestic policy–well, they’re still involved in foreign intelligence threats but-”
He grinned, “Director of the FBI sounds hot doesn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes, “Of course you would say that.”
“It’s that or CEO of Gojo Industries.”
She blinked, having completely forgotten that. She assumed that was the main source of his family’s income. Long ago, another genius in his family found a more efficient way of processing crude oil, which later resulted in the creation of their family’s multi-industry company. Gojo industries is responsible for more than half of the world’s refineries. Despite being widespread on foreign level, they are still a private company.
She blinked in astonishment, “Well, what's stopping you from that?”
“Nothings stopping me but I feel like business is kinda boring,” he shrugged, “I’ll probably have to deal with that regardless.”
“You will?”
“Well I don’t have any siblings, do I?” He smiled slightly, “I guess I could just hire someone but I still wanna be involved, probably as chairman or something but good thing that’s a later problem.”
He poked her cheek, “What about you, kitten? What do you wanna be?”
“... a doctor.”
He squinted at her hesitance, “Do you really?”
She sighed, “No, it’s what my Dad wants me to be. I was kinda set on it but..”
The corner of his lip twitched slightly, “Never mind him, what do you want to be?”
She paused before saying-rather softly, “An artist.”
“Forreal?”
She nodded.
His face instantly brightened, “Can you draw me?”
“No.”
She skeptically watched him pretend to be in pain before adding, “You’re too ugly to draw.”
He immediately cut the act, “Now you're just lying.”
Ara stepped inside the Rolls Royce, closing the door after herself.
Ijichi popped his head from the driver’s seat, a warm smile on his lips, “Hello, Miss Ara.”
She opened her mouth-ready to tell him for the millionth time that he could simply call her Ara but she decided to let it be. At least he hadn’t stepped out and opened the car door for her. He was learning.
She offered him a small smile in return.
She stared out of the car window, watching the other students buzz about until the car began to move.
“Are you okay, Miss?”
Her eyes flitted to the rear view mirror, meeting Ijichi’s concerned expression.
“Y-you seem.. unlike yourself.”
She supposed that was the nicest way he could say she looked off—which she’d been feeling like the whole day.
“Ijichi, can you do me a favor?”
He adjusted his glasses, “Yes?”
“Can you take me home?”
“I am taking you home, Miss.”
“I mean- my Dad’s home?”
“Of course.”
She stared at the house outside the car window. It should’ve felt familiar but it felt... indescribable really.
Ijichi glanced back at her, unsure of what to do since they’d been sitting out here for a good minute.
He looked between her and the house, “Would you like me to accompany you inside?” he offered unsurely.
“No!” she quickly cut herself off before running a hand through her hair, forcing herself to breathe.
“No,” she repeated, more calmly, “it’s fine. I just.. can we wait a few more minutes?”
It was silent for a beat before he answered, “Of course, miss.”
She could only imagine how confused he was right now but he d—suddenly the front door of the house opened and she immediately straightened in her seat. Thank god the windows were blacked out.
Her Dad stepped out. He was balancing himself on one crutch and there were less bandages on his face. His hair was clean-cut short and he was wearing pajamas-a matching set-something about that made her want to smile.
She watched him half-limp, half-walk towards the mailbox. He hastily pulled it open and grabbed the mail. He eyed it warily, rubbing his scruff as he did so before making his way back inside.
She waited until he closed the door behind himself to speak.
“We can go now, Ijichi.”
A low, soft moan left her until she realized there were lips on hers. Her eyes fluttered open to find Satoru in bed beside her.
“You’re back.”
He smiled subtly, his hand on her clavicle gently pushing her back down—“Yeah.”
Her eyes darted to the clock only for him to catch her chin, refocusing her attention on him.
“You took a nap?” he inquired softly.
“Yeah,” she closed her eyes, sighing when she felt him kiss her cheek, “dunno why.”
She blindly reached out to rest her hand on his chest, “How was practice?”
“S’good,” he slipped his arm underneath her head, sidling up next to her under the sheets, “would’ve been better if I was here with you instead.”
She smiled slightly, still sleepy enough to not want to open her eyes. She felt his long fingers tap her abdomen.
“Ara?”
“Mhm..”
A short silence ensued before he asked, “Why’d you go to your Dad’s house?”
Her eyes flew open to find him staring right at her, not one readable emotion on his face.
“I just.. wanted to see how he was doing.”
“Why?”
For some reason, she struggled to answer that. She thought it was obvious but maybe it wasn’t—to him.
“He’s my Dad.” was all she managed to say.
He was silent for another moment, it was so unlike him that she couldn’t help but get nervous.
“Do you miss him?” he suddenly asked, an odd undercurrent to his tone.
She quietly observed him. His floppy white hair, pale matte skin, long light lashes, spark-less blue eyes, the solemn set to his lips. Something about him seemed poised in a way that seemed to await her answer.
She couldn’t tell what was going on with him and maybe that should’ve scared her but..
She flattened her palm against his chest, “Are you mad at me?”
His eyes seemed to widen slightly before he blazed with color. He averted her gaze, “No.”
She touched his jaw, “Then why does it feel like it?”
He met her eyes, “It’s not—well,” He subtly shook his head, “I don’t like him, your Dad. I don’t like him at all.”
“Neither do I.”
His hand on her stomach slid around her side, drawing her closer, “You can’t live with him,” it was a demand but his voice wavered, his eyes pleading, “I don’t want you to.”
She stared up at him, her throat feeling oddly obstructed, “I don’t want to.”
“No?” he didn’t give her much time to respond, instead suddenly turning himself atop her. The tip of his nose brushing hers, “Good, cause..”
His vivid eyes didn’t leave hers, “I can’t let you leave.”
“You can’t?”
He shook his head, sliding his fingers through hers.
“Whyyyyy are you guys so boring,” Gojo whined.
“Stop yapping, Satoru.” Geto muttered, barely glancing up from his notebook.
Suddenly Ara felt something light knock into her temple and spotted a paper plane on the floor beside her seat. She glanced over to see Satoru staring at her across the table, a wide grin on his lips.
She kicked his seat, “Don’t bug me.”
Just as she faced her textbook again, he threw his arms up and flung back in seat.
“You guys studied yesterdayyy~” he whined.
A second before the paper plane hit his chin he caught it. His grin widened as he met Ara’s narrowed eyes.
“Just because you don’t have to study doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t have to.”
“Don’t be jealous, baby.”
“No one is jealous.”
“You sure?”
Geto set his pen down, “I'm two seconds away from kicking you both out this study room.”
“Okay nerd.”
She straightened in her seat, “It’s not my fault! He’s distracting me.”
Geto glared at Satoru, “I’m about to kick you out.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Geto stood up and Ara’s eyes widened. Everything that happened next was a blur.
One second Geto’s hands were at Gojo’s collar then the next Geto was face first on the floor. The boys were kicking and hollering at each other, horse playing on the floor.
Ara slammed her textbook shut, easily gathering her things as she stood up.
“I’m out.” She closed the study room door behind her.
“Ara! Help me! Get this ape off me!” Gojo yelled.
She heard several camera snaps and turned around.
She attempted to smack the phone out of his hand but he easily raised it out of her reach.
“Why are you taking pics of me?” she demanded.
He smiled, his arms still upraised as he swiped through the pictures, “Because my kitten looks so pretty.”
“You see?” He said before placing the phone right up to her face.
It was.. admittedly a good picture. It was her from the back, staring off at the amusement park they’d just entered. Her silhouette looked good in her Miu Miu mini skirt and knee-length Naked Wolfe platform boots.
He snatched the phone back before she could even think to grab it from him. He was grinning to himself, swiping through the pictures once more.
“It’s good, right? You look so good.”
She sighed, tugging at his sleeve, “Toru, seriously. We got to. Shoko’s waiting for us.”
“Hold on, hold on. Let me make this my lockscreen.”
She glanced up when she heard him whistle.
He was shaking Geto’s shoulder playfully before tossing his golf stick in the air–somehow making it land upright in the ground.
He glanced in her direction and jogged over, “Baby did you see my shot? It was such a good shot.”
She lowered her phone in her lap, “No.”
“Aww.” he plopped into the seat beside her, “I told you to watch mee~”
“You are such a kid.”
Suddenly he snatched the phone out of her hand, “Who are we texting?”
She tried to reach for her phone, “I’m not texting anybody-!”
He easily caught both her wrists in one hand and held up her phone in the other, “Ooo you looking at jewelry, baby?”
He swiped down to see her cart. It was all Van Cleef & Arpels–ranging from earrings, rings and dainty bracelets. It was all wildly out of her price range but it wasn’t like she was planning on buying it, she just liked to get inspiration.
“This is a nice bracelet,” he noted.
She glanced down to see the picture, “I know right.”
“I can’t wait to see it on your wrist.” he smirked.
Her eyes widened as she watched him go through with the cart, inputting his credit card details by memory.
“What are–”
“Sh, Sh, Sh-”
“Toru, wait-” but it was too late. The confirmation page of the order was already up on her phone, along with pending delivery details. She couldn’t believe it. Even though she hadn’t added too many jewelry pieces to her cart she knew the total had been about 75k. And he’d just purchased it all.
He handed the phone back to her as she gaped.
“What the fuck..” she muttered, shell-shocked.
He kissed her cheek.
She glanced up at him, “What did you do that for?”
“For you.”
“Satoru, you're up!” Geto called.
He placed a deft kiss on her lips before standing and jogging over to Geto, leaving her stunned in silence.
She squirmed, “Toru, please– I’m still sore.”
He loosened his grip, sighing as he cupped her tits. “This bikini looks too good kitten.”
She pushed his hands away, quickly covering her chest as she swam further into the pool. It was admittedly a very sexy bikini set, the first of its kind that she’d ever worn. She felt very naked.
She turned around, “This is why I don’t like wearing what you want. You just want me naked all the time.”
“I do.”
She splashed him with water, making him laugh.
He swam towards her suddenly, splashing her with thrice the amount of water. She yelled, quickly attempting to swim away only to get cornered.
“Okay, okay! That's enough you fool!”
He quickly popped up from the water, closing in on her, “Quitting already?”
She didn’t hesitate in hitting him with a fierce splash but he quickly dodged it. Suddenly she was chasing him around the pool, sending splash after splash after him. He cackled as he attempted to dodge the bombardment of water.
She kept missing him, only to jump to get some distance on him. She jumped atop his back, nearly making him topple into the water–only for his athlete instincts to kick in and easily make him balanced.
“Ara-” he laughed, turning his face aside as she used her spare arm to splash water in his face. Her other arm wound tightly around his shoulders.
He slipped his arms under her legs around his waist, hoisting her higher on his back. “Hold on tight!”
She didn’t have a second to register his words because he was already swimming. He was swimming so fast she nearly screamed. She clutched his back, feeling his back muscles move against her chest. She felt like she was on a jet boat.
Finally he stopped, holding her knees up once more as he straightened.
“How was that?” he questioned, a bright smile on his face.
At her silence he glanced behind himself, “Ara?”
She dropped her face to his back, “I… I’m dizzy.”
He used his arm under her leg to swiftly maneuver her body in front of himself. His arms slipped around her bum, keeping her legs around his waist.
He rubbed her back, tilting his head, “You okay?”
She blinked several times, “Yeah.” her voice revealed something a bit unsure.
He swam towards the poolside, slipping his hands into the dip of her waist before placing her atop the marble floor. Her legs still dipped in the water.
She ran a hand through her wet hair as she breathed, “I’m fine.” she mumbled.
His eyes were alert, “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
A grin split across his lips.
She reached over to splash him with water again but he caught her wrist. She attempted to do the same with her other hand but he caught that one too.
“Ugh!” she grunted in frustration only for him to lean over and peck her lips.
“You’re so cute.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Don’t make me blush baby.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
His eyes widened, along with his grin, “Ah? Do that again.”
She sharply turned her face aside, “Shut up.”
He chuckled once more, finally releasing her wrists, “Ara..”
Just as she crossed her arms, his index and middle finger turned her chin his way, “I have something to ask you.”
“What now.”
He tilted his head, his bright eyes flickering up and down her face. She thought she saw his adam’s apple bob in his neck.
“So.. SATs are coming up.”
She raised a brow, “And?”
“And college applications are due soon so.. I wanna know your top choice.”
“Top choice?”
“Top choice for university.”
She eyed the faint blush on his cheeks, “Why?”
His hands rested atop the poolside as he drew closer, “I want us to go to college together.”
She tensed.
His intricate eyes scanned her face, unable to read her fixed expression.
“Kitten?” he asked.
She finally moved, her eyes darting up to his. “Are you sure?”
“What?” he asked, completely flabbergasted, “Of course I’m sure.”
He cupped her chin, “You think I can live without you?”
She turned her face a second before he could even think to kiss her.
His nose trailed her cheekbone, “You don’t want to?” he questioned.
She closed her eyes, “I do but.. can we not go far?”
His hand cupped her neck, tilting her face back up, “ ‘course kitten. Stanford then?”
A light laugh slipped out of her, “I know I can get in but can you?”
A grin spread across his lips, “You think you're better than me cuz you're valedictorian?”
“I know I’m better than you.”
His grin widened, “True, but have you checked the ranks?”
“I checked last week.”
“How about this week?”
“No but..” her eyes widened, “Are you saying you’re first again?”
He shrugged.
She shoved him, “Tell me!”
He laughed, loving every second of this, “Maybe.”
“Maybe?!” she barked, “Ugh, give it a week. Once my calc exam is in you’ll be back in your place. Watch.”
Suddenly his arms slipped around her waist and he was burying his face in her neck.
She pushed at his arms, “Toru—“
Suddenly she was pinned to the floor, his hands holding hers down as he bent over her. His tall frame between her legs.
He tilted his head, “Why do you want to stay near here?”
Her eyes lingered on the water droplets falling from his abs before meeting his gaze. Her face flushed.
“Cuz… just cause.”
“Tell me.”
She stared up at him, trying not to get swallowed up whole by the brightness of his blue eyes.
She closed her eyes, “Cuz I want to be near my Dad, okay?”
His jaw clenched as his eyes raked down her body, “You can go to any university in the world.. and that’s what you're gonna choose by?”
Her eyes fluttered open, her expression somewhat somber.
“He doesn’t care y’know.”
Her brows furrowed slightly but he continued anyway, “Does he really matter that much to you?”
“He’s the only family I have.” she answered curtly.
“So? He beat the shit outta you.”
Her expression twisted and she attempted to release herself from his hands pinning hers, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t want you to make another decision based on someone who doesn’t care about you. I care about you. I want the best for you-”
She twisted underneath him, “Toru, let go of me—“
He bent lower over her, “Listen to me.”
She froze, her breath incredibly shaky.
“I am listening. You want to know my top choice? Anything in fucking California. That’s what I want, okay? If you don’t like it then go somewhere else.”
“Go somewhere else?” he repeated quietly.
She swallowed, unable to find any words.
“Without you?” he pressed.
Her heart raced in her chest, “N—no.”
“Hmm,” he hummed approvingly before running a hand down her side, “That’s what I thought.”
“Stanford?” Geto questioned on the other end of the line.
“Yeah Stanford.”
“Why?”
“Cuz,” he hadn’t really thought this through, “Stanford’s.. nice.”
Geto scoffed, “Nice? That’s it?”
“Yes?”
“You couldn’t decide what college you wanted to go for the past two years but suddenly you wake up and decide that Stanford is nice?”
Before he even had the chance to respond, Geto asked, “Does Ara have something to do with this?”
Gojo couldn’t help but chuckle, “Maybe~”
Geto sighed.
“Gojo!” she whined as he lifted her up from the couch. “Gojo, put me down!”
He smacked her ass over his shoulder, “Nah.”
“Gojo!” she yelled while attempting to kick her feet but his other arm quickly held her legs down.
He playfully bit her hip as he walked, “Don’t whine kitten.”
She attempted to twist herself away but it was impossible, “Satoru seriously— I want to finish the movie!”
“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me.”
“You kissed me.”
He merely shook his head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Her small fists hit his back and he laughed.
Just as he opened their bedroom door, she raised her head. Her eyes landed on the maid down the hallway, staring right at her. A slight blush on her face.
Before Ara could even think of feeling embarrassed Gojo kicked the door closed behind them.
“Satoru?”
“Hm?” he glanced up from his phone. He was rather comfortable, lounging on one of the several patio chairs.
Ara rubbed the back of her neck as she approached him, “Um.. you remember how i’m supposed to go shopping with Mils today?”
He tossed his phone onto the empty seat beside him and straightened.
“The shopping spree you rudely refuse to let me join? Yes.”
She stood before him, “Baby I need some girl time.”
He pouted, “I can be a girl?”
She cupped his chin and shook it, “Just because you're as pretty as one doesn’t mean you can be one.”
His eyes brightened, “I’m pretty?”
She shoved his face away but he quickly faced her again—a devious grin on his lips.
His white brows wriggled, “Are you gonna talk about me?”
She squinted, “No, why would I talk about trash.”
His arms slipped around her, tugging her close as he rested his chin atop her bosom.
“Meanie~”
Suddenly she was flipped into his arms, fully laying on his lap. She gasped.
He nuzzled her hair before tilting his head to drop a kiss on her lips. Just as his lips connected with hers she gently cupped his chin, pacing him. He pecked her, his eyes fluttering open to peek at her face as she kissed him back. He pecked her again and grinned when he felt her breath hitch.
Just as he drew closer to deepen the kiss, her fingers slipped into his hair–pulling him back.
“Wait–toru, wait–” she fought to catch her breath, “I have to go.”
He whined, “Right now?”
She nodded, “Yeah, Ijichi’s waiting outside but I need your help.”
“What do you need?”
She hesitated a second before admitting, “I-um, I want to shop but I.. I don’t have any money.”
It was true. She’d left the spare cash she had at her Dads and even if she did have the debit card her Dad had given her she wouldn’t feel comfortable using it.
His eyes widened, “Oh!”
He reached into his pocket, fishing out his Bottega Veneta wallet. He took out a credit card and gave it to her.
“Keep it.”
She stared blankly as he put it in her hand.
“It’s yours.” he added further.
She felt her face heat up, “I can give it back after—“
“I just said it’s yours, kitten. Buy whatever you want.”
She continued to stare at him and he stared back—only to cackle a second later.
“You can’t take anything normally huh?” he squeezed her cheek, “It’s always somethin’ new. Never a-” suddenly his voice turned saccharine, “‘Thank you, Toru’ ‘You're the best boyfriend ever, Toru-“
She quickly stood up from his lap, “I’m leaving.”
“Nooo~” he whined as he latched onto her, keeping her in his lap. He buried his face into her nape, “You can’t go yet.”
“Stop it-“
“Two minutes, just two minutes.”
“Toru!”
She jolted up from the bed, breathless. Her mouth felt terribly dry and her hands.. her hands were shaking.
She stared at her trembling fingers before registering.. I had a nightmare.
It’d been a terrible one at that, so terrible she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She could feel her scream stuck in her throat.
She blinked, trying to remember the details but the more she tried to think of it, the more it escaped her. She was grasping at straws but something within her felt an almost frantic pressure to remember. Something had happened, something bad-bad enough to feel real. She didn’t want to forget, she couldn’t—
Suddenly a hand slipped into the curve of her waist, “Ara?”
She glanced over to see Gojo propped on an arm behind her, his bright eyes nearly illuminating in the dark. His white hair tousled and disorderly from sleep.
She gently touched his face, her fingers pushing his soft silver-white hair back, “I’m okay.” she attempted to murmur only for her breathlessness to betray her.
His thin brows furrowed subtly, “Bad dream?”
She didn’t answer, merely moving to lay down underneath him, under the crook of his arm. His eyes followed her, never leaving her stoic face. They both knew it wasn’t the first time.
She avoided his gaze for a second, absentmindedly running her fingers over his collar bone before nodding.
He watched her flit about before lowering himself to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then another between her brows… on the bridge of her nose… the tip of her nose… then her lips.
Her lips quivered under his, making a heady rush hit his lower abdomen but he forced himself to think past it and be calm. He let his tongue sweep her mouth just once before breaking the kiss.
Her lips were swollen and parted. She was breathless all over again.
He searched her face, trying to find his focus but he didn’t need to when her hands suddenly slipped around his neck and they were kissing once more. It was sloppy, desperate and unexpectedly wanton in every degree.
Her nails dug into his scalp and kept him close. His hand found her tits, squeezing and groping needily. Fuck. He’d already had her tonight but hell he could never help himself when it came to her.
He meant to ask her about the nightmare, how they were coming a bit too often but– “Fuck,” he rasped out raggedly, breaking the kiss.
Her hand was wrapped around his cockhead, her thumb rubbing his tip before running up and down as much of his length she could reach. His hips bucked in response to her touch.
She never touched him there first, especially unprompted. If he ever wanted her to touch his cock he’d have to cup her tiny hand in his and guide her there.
She squeezed his cockhead, making him gasp before bucking into her harder. Her small palm ran along the underside of his length, feeling all his veins and heat. He could feel his cock throb in her hands as she rubbed him.
His forehead pressed into hers as he groaned. He was fully erect now and she knew it too. His cock had grown in size and felt incredibly hot and solid in her fingers. His pre-cum dribbled out the tip, making her palm sticky as her pace quickened.
He yanked the blankets off and flipped himself over her, eyes alert. He took in her frame and his cock twitched at the sight.
She was naked, hair splayed out over the pillow and legs loose around his waist. Hickeys strewn all over her skin, the fresher ones around her tits turning a deeper color.
He leaned lower, aligning his fully stiff cock at her entrance. Just touching her with the tip made his body gripe with lust.
He’d meant to tease her, maybe slide his cock through her folds a little, let his tip tease her clit but the second his cock touched her wetness his thoughts were set aflame. His jaw locked and he drove his cock straight into her pussy in one forceful stroke.
She cried out, her tits jumping as she jolted sensitively. Her hips could only tremble as her cunt squeezed around him. It always hurt when he fit himself inside all at once—but right now it hurt so good. She felt full in a way that she couldn’t think.
He was breathing heavily above her, his hand forming a fist at the crown of her head as he began to move his cock with no mercy. He was determined to show her what it meant to finish what she started.
“Satoru!” she cried while digging her nails into his shoulders.
He thrusted into her, hard and fast. As if they didn’t have any spare time to waste. He was hungry and she could feel it in each buck of his hips.
“Dont worry, baby.” he murmured huskily into her ear as she whined, “I got you.”
He pounded into her, burying his cock impossibly deeper each time. He knew it was a lot for her but he couldn’t help himself. He told himself she wouldn’t either—if she knew how good she felt.
Her insides clutched his cock like he was her lifeline. Fuck, if he wasn’t already, he should be. She was his lifeline as it was.
“ah—ah-aHh! Satoru—Satoru!!”
Fuck. He couldn’t stop. He kissed her, hard. She was too distracted to kiss him back. He felt her wet tears against his cheek and it made his thrusts get sloppy with heat.
He was close. So close. A few more thrusts—
Suddenly her fingers curled in his hair, her body arching underneath him as her insides gushed with fluid. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head moving side to side desperately as she begged, “S-satoru—please!”
He exploded, cumming buckets and buckets and buckets into her heat. It didn’t matter that he’d already came inside her earlier in the night, something about her made him cum loads each time. And this time was no different.
He panted as he fell into the crook of her neck. He felt her body tremble oh so delicately underneath his.
He was still for a beat before kissing the skin underneath her ear and lowering his hand to where they were still joined. His thumb found her clit, making her jolt sensitively.
A small grin slid onto the end of his lip when he heard her slight, broken breath turn bated as he rubbed her tiny, slick bud.
“Toru,” she rasped out, unable to successfully twist away due to being pinned under him, “T-toru, what are you doing?”
The gentle pressure of his thumb against her clit picked up, making her shiver.
“What you did to me.” he murmured. “Waking you up.”
“I’m—I’m already awake.” she stuttered out, his thumb was making circles over her clit now.
“Hmm,” he hummed, “You didn’t cum.”
“I-I did.”
He used his thumb and forefinger to lightly squeeze her clit, making her lose all her breath.
“No you didn’t.”
“I did!” she gasped out desperately.
She shoved at his shoulders just as he began to move inside her, his cock slowly thrusting into the mess they’d made inside her. The wet sound echoing promiscuously in the room.
“Then prove it.” he whispered into her neck before licking underneath her jaw, along her several hickies as if sealing them in.
He straightened above her, looking down to see her eyes squinted shut and her lips twisted in unwanted desire. His cock throbbed as he thrusted into her harder.
“Prove it to me and do it again.”
“Millie, where the hell are we?” she asked.
Millie laughed, her tone as lighthearted as ever, “Don’t worry about it, just come.”
Millie took her hand and pulled her out of the car. Before them was one of the most extravagant hotels Ara had ever seen. It was absolutely insane.
She stared at the palm trees surrounded pool in shock. It had to be the biggest pool she’d ever seen in her life. The lights decorating the pathway to hotel doors were lit with real fire as Millie dragged her to the entrance.
Their heels clacked along the marble ground as they walked up to the main doors. They’d spent the entire day together–pointlessly glamming themselves up to the most excessive degree. From massages, to manicures, pedicures, eyebrow threading, hair, makeup, shopping, shopping and more shopping. From clothes, jewelry, shoes, accessories–anything that they liked they picked up. Gojo had said she could use her card on anything she wanted and Millie was more than happy to run it up–she nearly regretted telling Millie that.
But-at the same time-if she couldn’t spend with her best friend then what the hell was the point? Even if they’d blown through more money than she’d ever spent in the last decade in one day, it was admittedly a blast. It felt like something out of a dream.
The only thing she regretted was smoking a little weed in the car because now her head felt fuzzy–very fuzzy.
Ara couldn’t help but notice the security guards lining the walls the second they entered the lobby. Paranoia immediately seeped into her veins.
She turned and sharply faced Millie-only to become momentarily silenced. Millie looked stunning, her hair was pinned in a sexy, undone but not, 90s inspired updo that suited her incredibly well. Her mini-dress and heels matched perfectly and something about her dark brown smokey eye makeup brought out her eyes in the most appealing way. Damn, her best friend was hot.
Millie blinked, “What?”
Ara shook her head-pulling herself out of her reverie, “You’re hot.”
Millie smirked, squeezing her hand, “You’re hotter.”
Ara rolled her eyes before remembering her original task, “Listen,” she tugged her hand, “What are we doing here? We better not be doing something stupid. There’s a shit ton of security here.” she whispered.
Millie giggled, “Why do you always think the worst of me? We’re not sneaking in anywhere, don’t worry.”
“Then what are we doing here?”
Millie shook her head, “Just trust m-”
Ara glared, “What is this? Seriously?”
Millie let go of her hand and motioned for her to stay where she was, “Just hold on a sec.”
Ara stared at Millie in complete aggravation as she watched the girl walk up to the front desk. They were supposed to go to Millie’s place to drop off her shopping bags and then to Gojo’s place to drop off her own stuff. They then planned to just hang out and take pics there–not whatever this was.
She glanced up at the glass ceiling, reveling in the sight of the gorgeous starlit night sky before realizing it was rather late. Gojo was bound to be worried. Fuck.
She flipped open her clutch to find her phone–only to see it wasn’t inside. Oh shit.
Her heart rate skyrocketed–suddenly she felt a hand on her elbow and glanced up to see Millie with two security guards behind her.
Millie smiled, “C’mon lets go.”
Ara stared at the three of them in confusion, unable to speak for a moment. “..Millie..?”
“Just c’mon.” Millie slid her hand around her elbow and began to walk towards the elevator. The security guards followed.
“Wait,” Ara pulled her arm out of hers, “I can’t find my phone. I think I left it in the car. I need to call Ijichi–”
“Just don’t worry about it.” Millie hassled her into the elevator–nearly making Ara trip over her heels.
“What the fuck, Millie?” Ara asked harshly. She swiveled around to notice the security guards follow them inside the elevator and press a button to a floor she couldn’t see due to the guards’ huge stature blocking the way.
“I’m sorry, I just need you to be patient for a sec.”
Ara immediately refocused her attention to her, “Patient? What the fuck is going on? Do you even know where we are going?”
Millie pursed her lips and shrugged.
Ara raised a brow, “Are you good? I need my phone. I need to call Ijichi–or Gojo.”
Millie smacked her teeth, “Gojo? Are you still thinking about him right now? Just quit already–you're like a lovesick girlfriend.”
Ara glared, “What the hell? You know he’s the one on my ass all the time. He’s probably texted you already, asking about me.”
“Doesn’t he have your location?”
“Yeah but if I don’t text him often he gets pissy. You know this.”
Millie giggled, “Is he the girl in the relationship?”
Ara couldn’t help but chuckle, “You still want to date him?”
“Yes, especially if he gives me that credit card.”
Ara didn’t get the chance to respond because suddenly the elevator doors opened to reveal a lavishly adorned rooftop–everything pastel purple and white themed. Her favorite colors..
Suddenly the sound of confetti cannons went off, making her jump.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!”
Ara was pushed out the elevator by Millie to see several of her classmates waiting for her, hooting and hollering like animals. Pastel purple confetti everywhere. Shoko crushed her in a hug first.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” Shoko pulled back, beaming-it wasn’t hard to tell from the flush on her cheeks that she’d already started drinking.
Shoko’s eyes widened, before pinching her cheek, “You look soo good, girl. Damn.”
Ara blushed slightly, “Thank you.”
“No thank you,” Shoko placed a hand on her shoulder, “Seriously. You’re probably…” She paused, as if trying to find the right words, “one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.” she said with a firm nod.
Ara paused, “Really?”
“Yeah, you’re.. you. And you don’t let anyone else around you make you otherwise, I like that. You don’t let Gojo get his way all the time either, which is exactly what he needs. He needs to hear some no’s in his life. And get humbled. Lots of humbling.”
Shoko shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued, “It’s honestly refreshing to hear him complain about you.”
“He complains about me?”
Shoko laughed, “Little things like you refusing to go to an escape room with him or you forcing him to wear a seat belt ever since he nearly totaled that car.”
Ara refrained from rolling her eyes, she’d only seen a video of the 'almost' incident but he’d been two seconds away from smashing the car front first into a bridge and that was all she needed to witness to shut it down. She knew it’d be impossible to stop his chronic speeding but a seatbelt was the least she could do. It hadn’t even been his car either, it was Geto’s.
Shoko continued with a humorous smile, “He gets so upset when you don’t use his gifts.”
Ara’s eyes widened indignantly, “He gives me too many.”
“It’s honestly hilarious,” she chuckled before shrugging, “It’s stupid but like, lots of the girls he’s been with were honestly.. pushovers and it was highkey nauseating. You know how to handle him though.”
Ara opened her mouth slightly, intending to respond but..
Is that how it looks like? Stoic, studious Ara keeping fuckboy billionaire Gojo in line? She supposed only Millie knew of his possessiveness but then.. maybe to others it really did look like he was in line. He rarely did things without her, in fact he didn’t even party without her–out of his own accord. He listened to her every whim and desire and was almost desperate to do so—outside of bed.
Shoko patted her cheek, drawing her out of her thoughts, “I just hope he doesn’t do something stupid and lose you.”
She stared at Shoko’s sincere expression for a moment, feeling her heart tighten suddenly. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though because the second Shoko let go of her shoulder, she went stumbling backwards.
Before Ara could even outstretch her hands Nanami appeared and caught Shoko a second before she truly toppled over. His arms slipped around her waist and she melted into him. Shoko mumbled something incoherent in his neck and a warm smile immediately bloomed on his face.
He glanced towards Ara, his kind smile widening, “She’s fine, I promise.”
She watched his hand caress Shoko’s short hair as he continued, “Happy birthday. I hope you like our gift. Ieiri went through a lot to make sure you liked it.”
Shoko placed her index finger on his lips, still keeping her face buried in his shoulder as she did this, “Don’t tell her what it is.”
“I didn’t!” he exclaimed.
Ara laughed only to suddenly be pulled into another hug. Then another and another. All of Shoko’s friends. Arden. Mina. Leah, they all wished her and updated her on random tea about their classmates that she could’ve lived without hearing but she didn’t mind. When the conversation turned to her outfit they showered her with such compliments she couldn’t help but feel bubbly inside–until Arden spoke.
“Listen, I don’t know about you guys but the second she stepped out that elevator my g-string got soaked.”
A short silence ensued and she added, “Just saying.”
Mina spoke, “Girl what.”
“It’s the bi in me.”
Leah laughed as Mina playfully shoved Arden. Ara shook her head, giggling under her breath as she turned around–only to run into Toji and Haibara.
Haibara beamed the second he saw her, “Birthday girl!!!!”
He outstretched his arms but quickly looked past her, seeming to notice something-or someone-and pretended to run his hand through his hair. Ara was too in her own head to notice. She hadn’t exactly been mentally prepared to see so many people.
Regardless, Haibara’s smile offered her a semblance of reassurance. He had that sort of aura-of a human teddy bear.
She returned his smile, “That’s me~”
He suddenly whipped out his phone, “Your reaction was so funny, look look. You really looked around trying to find out who’s birthday it was.”
Ara watched the video on his phone to see he was right. When everyone shouted happy birthday, she’d broken her neck to look everywhere and behind herself like a fool.
She moved his arm away to get the video out of her sight before she could over-analyze herself further. She hated being photographed, videoed or any of the like.
“That’s cuz I forgot it was my birthday.”
“You really forgot?” he asked.
“Yeah.” she shrugged. Her family never did anything on the day so-aside from a happy birthday text from Millie-it was just a regular day to her.
“Well,” Toji’s deep voice rumbled, “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded, his dark hair swaying subtly as he did so. It should be illegal for his narrow green eyes to look as seductive as they did while merely maintaining eye contact.
“You look pretty.” he complimented. The words were simple, truly straightforward and yet his sensual voice made it feel like something more. No wonder women dropped like flies around his feet.
She raised her chin imperceptibly, “Thanks Toji.”
Out of all of Gojo’s friends, he was the one she least got along with. Maybe because they were both somewhat the quiet type but it was also because she wasn’t a fool.
She knew-given the chance-he’d rip her clothes off without a second's delay if she asked. He wouldn’t even care if Gojo came after him. He was just that sort of person. But even he with all his lingering stares and subtle seductive tactics wasn’t aware of Gojo’s limits—or moreso, the lack thereof.
She was forced to break their little staring contest when a hand suddenly grabbed her elbow and twirled her around. She was met with Millie’s sly grin and Geto standing a slight bit behind her. He greeted her with a small smile.
“Having fun?” Millie teased.
Ara tilted her head, “Did you set all this up?”
“I’m rich but not that rich,” she jutted her chin somewhere to her right, “That’s all him right there.”
Ara glanced over to see Gojo leaning against a railing, somewhat excluded from the others for a change. He looked like something straight out of a romance movie. His silky white hair had been pushed back, minus for the few unruly strands that hung over his forehead. He’d grown his hair out a bit-at her request-but she liked the way it looked more weighted at his nape, like a little mane.
He wore a simple black dress-shirt, untucked from his matching pants. The outfit was simple and yet the subtle contours of his tautly muscular frame made it all the more appealing. He was unbuttoning the top few buttons at his collar when he caught her gaze. The corner of his glossy lips immediately lifting upwards.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“He’s waiting for youuu.” Millie sang into her ear.
Ara was suddenly forced forward by Millie’s not-so-subtle push.
She walked towards him, feeling her breath grow shallow with each step. His eyes remained transfixed on her. She didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to take her in from head to toe. When his eyes found hers again, a pale pink hue decorated his cheeks.
He straightened off the railing, “Hi kitten.”
She stopped right before him. A tiny smile finding its way to her lips, “Hey.”
He brought his arm around from behind himself to reveal a bouquet of white hibiscus flowers. Her favorite flower. She didn’t meet his eyes as he handed it to her.
“Satoru..”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he rushed out, “please.”
She glanced up at him.
“I know you don’t like people. That’s why I kept it small. I just.. had to do something. I had to. Especially after you told me you never did anything for your birthday before-I didn’t like it. You deserve to be celebrated-”
A small laugh left her lips, “I deserve to be celebrated?”
“Yes.” he replied indignantly.
She shook her head, “You worry about the oddest things.”
He blinked slowly, “..you hate this.”
“I would’ve been happy even if it was just us, y’know.” she replied gently.
His eyes widened for a moment before he hung his head, “I’m sorry.”
She set the flowers down on a nearby table before touching his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t happy now though.”
He lifted his head slightly, a hint of that boyish spark returning to his eyes. He searched her face, “..really?”
She nodded, “This is all.. really nice actually. No one’s ever surprised me before.”
The corner of his lip lifted tantalizingly, “You like it?”
She slipped her arms around his shoulders, “Only this once.”
His devilishly handsome smile returned in full force before he crushed her to himself. His strong arms tightening around her waist to lift her up as he kissed her. Her hands wound themselves in his hair as they kissed. She felt his heartbeat through his shirt and couldn’t help but smile against his lips. He’d been nervous and she couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.
He lowered her to her feet but didn’t let her go, showering her face with kisses as she laughed.
She gently shoved his firm shoulders, “Toru, stop.”
He kissed her temple, still keeping her close as he whined, “I can’ttttt.”
One of his hands around her waist slid low to her ass, giving it a squeeze.
She glared up at him, “Satoru.”
He grinned.
“Alright lovebirds,” Millie’s familiar voice rang out from their left, drawing them out of their little bubble. “Now that you’re done sucking each other’s faces off, I need to take a picture with the birthday girl.”
She took Ara’s hand and walked her over to a lengthy, elaborate flower wall made solely of white hibiscus flowers. Ara gaped.
Millie shoved her phone in Gojo’s chest only for him to catch her wrist, “Milsss, don’t you think her boyfriend should get a pic with her first?”
“I’m her best friend.”
“So.”
“So?” Millie nearly yelled.
“I set this whole place up.”
“You mean the people you hired set this place up.”
“Same difference.”
“It’s most definitely not. Do you know what it took to get her here? She nearly bit my head off in the elevator.”
“Did she?” Ara could hear the grin in his voice.
“Yeah! It was hard as hell to sneak her phone from her too cuz you kept texting her..”
As they bickered, Ara couldn’t help but take a moment to look around. Some of her classmates were already taking pictures in front of the flower wall while others were at the drink table. Pouring themselves drink after drink as they meandered about. Laughter and music filling the air. And the view… the rooftop view was to die for. It was something she never could’ve imagined in a million lifetimes.
It was in moments like these where she’d wonder..
How did I get here?
Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.
“Psst.”
Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..
“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”
He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”
“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”
“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”
Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”
“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”
“For what?”
“I have to show you something.”
She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”
He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”
ur theme is so pretty omd.. I wanted to req how you think nerd!gojo would be like pre relationship but take ur time
⟡ WHATS AFTER LIKE?
◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺﹚ what's before like between you and nerd!satoru gojo
⊹ ︵ WARNINGS ◦ ₊ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ﹙ ㅤfluff nerd!gojoㅤㅤ sukuna comes up swearing this was really bad I edited the aesthetic 1 year later
౿ ˚ MINA'S NOTES ⫽ ✿ ─ the jennie ruby red theme goes so hard!! thank you for being my first ever ask anon <3.
೯ ⁺ 𖥻 WC. ᰋ 1.1k
Something about nerd!satoru gojo is that he refuses to admit he’s wrong, and his feelings towards a certain other physics student in his classes.
It’s not like he has bad looks or a terrible personality either. His presence alone when he first enters any lecture hall, even if it’s a class he isn’t in and is just tagging along to bother Suguru or Nanami, it demands attention. Girls pausing their conversations and quickly fixing their hair, sitting up straighter, boys would look up from their laptops and try to make a conversation with him.
“Yo! Satoru, did you see the new teaser they dropped for another rockstar game?”
“Satoruuuu! You promised to drink with me last week!”
Satoru would only stop momentarily, probably poking Nanami’s cheek or showing Suguru how good his pulls went last night in some gacha game. “Oh?” He would hum with a raised eyebrow, lowering his headphones. “I don’t drink, so I probably lied to you, and yeah— I did see that trailer, game probably won’t drop for the next 6 years though.”
He’s asked out multiple times a week. Pulled aside by girls after tutorials and lectures, while Suguru and the others would either wait patiently or walk away to the nearest café. Cupcakes, cookies, letters with hearts and his name written neatly, you name it and it was given to him. The most heartfelt and shy confessions all the way to some of the most blunt comments made about him, and yet he’d reply the same.
“I’m kinda in the middle of planning out my super duper, awesome, 100% fail proof plan to confess to this absolute goddess at the moment, sorry.”
“…huh?”
“…I said I’m not interested. That’s what I mean.”
The interest was lost and he’d either send them away crying, or cursing him out.
“Please stop talking about your anime waifu’s, I don’t care!” Shoko would whine to him, throwing her head back and covering her face with her hands. Suguru would chuckle, pulling her closer by her chair, while Nanami and Sukuna would scoot away from him and try to remain discreet. Satoru would be left, talking mostly to himself, scrolling on some sketchy website all about rating the top ten anime waifu’s.
But then… there’s you.
Suddenly Satoru’s the one straightening his back, closing the weird browsers on his laptop, clearing his voice and trying to act like he was nonchalant about being in the same lecture hall as you. Early as always, awaiting the physics professor.
“So… Sukuna, wanna hit the gym later? I mean I’m already soooooo ripped..” he trailed off one morning, leaning back on his chair as he not-so-secretly eyed you up and down, entering the hall.
You pursed your lip subconsciously, eyeing the empty hall and seeing only two students sitting right in the middle of the hall, fiddling with the pink jangling keychain on your tote bag. Hesitant steps forward on the shiny Dr Marten shoes, about as far as possible from the white haired and pink haired student before a voice called, stopping you in your tracks.
“Wait!” Satoru was halfway to crawling over the seats, hand outreached for you, his grey hood from his hoodie falling off his head, basketball shorts with the smallest peak of his designer boxers showing. He paused and coughed, standing up straight and fixing his clothes and brushing back the messy locks of white hair.
“I mean—.. there’s a free seat right next to me,” Satoru corrected himself while looking away, trying to calm his racing heart and his ears that were burning red.
“There’s nothing but free seats in this entire hall,” Sukuna snorted to himself, before feeling Satoru zip his jacket up all the way and muffle his voice. “H-hey! What the fuck..?!” He grumbled and yelled, trying to unzip the hoodie.
Satoru cleared his throat once again and tried to work his charm, while Sukuna was angrily yelling about killing Satoru once he figured out where the zip was. “As I said, there’s a free seat next to me and I’m kind of a genius so…” he paused and glanced over at you, cliche kdrama music playing in his head, “…sit next to me.” He nodded at his own words, unable to hide the smirk as he imagined how the rest of this series would play out, you’d squeal, “kyaa! it’s not like I like you or anything!” While he would pull you closer and use his irresistible charm. “You’re my little baka-chan… okay? So don’t go kissing any other—” the voice stopped playing in his head when he realised where you were sitting down.
Directly next to Sukuna, and helping him unzip the jacket.
He could help but pout for the rest of the lecture, subtly glancing at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, and sending glares to Sukuna. The pink haired menace only stuck out his tongue at Gojo, only chatting with you during the lecture when he really wanted to piss off the white haired boy.
But it’s not like that was the only rejection Satoru faced from you.
He’d follow you around like a puppy on wednesdays, the days where you both shared the exact same schedule, a two hour lecture on Quantum Mechanics at 10 in the morning, a 15 minute meeting of the ‘Anime club’ at lunch in the university’s library, and an hour long tutorial of ‘Astrophysics 101’ at 3pm.
He’d lie and act nonchalant the whole day, trying the ‘play hard to get’ tutorial he found on reddit two days prior to get you to magically fall in love with him. It didn’t work, all you did was smile at him obliviously and blink at him with that glassy eyed stare that always made his heart race like it was about to explode. At some point his heart might’ve actually exploded the day that you took up his offer of holding his hand while walking towards your next class together.
He just could not stop the goofy smile that made its way to his lips, while his breathing got way more shallow, trying to puff out his chest and appear more tough than he actually was.
But then, you’d let go of his hand the moment you saw Sukuna, happily smiling and waving to him, running up and hugging the man. Leaving Satoru Gojo distraught on the ground, grovelling at the gravel and cursing out Sukuna in his mind for capturing the heart of his real life anime waifu.
“I will win this 50/50!” Satoru whispered to himself determined, while Sukuna deadpanned down at his state, trying to figure out if he should tell Satoru that you and him had grown up together like siblings.
‘Probably best not to tell him,’ Sukuna shrugged, ‘let him think he’s got no chance’ Sukuna thought.
Satoru is the type of husband who offers you a piece of everything he eats before he takes his first bite.
Satoru is the type of husband who jokingly tells Geto that you stole him from geto. He simply laughs, happy that he doesn’t have to deal with Gojo’s shenanigans by himself anymore.
Satoru is the type of husband who genuinely believes you look beautiful all the time. When you first wake up, after a quick shower. Even after devouring your favorite meal. You’re still perfect to him.
Satoru is the type of husband who flops directly onto you bubbling with laughter and a bright red face after you tell him a cringe joke. You’re just that funny to him, and he lives for the silly moments you have together.
Satoru is the type of husband who has THE most fluffiest and expensive pillows ever but still decides to lay his big head on your boobs every night.
Satoru is the type of husband who blows your phone up with kitten videos while he’s supposed to be out working. You’ll randomly get a video sent to you of a kitten being sassy, followed by a “you 🤭” text.
Satoru is the type of husband who begs Yuji to teach him how to play all the video games you and Yuji like to play because he’ll take any opportunity to bond with you plus he loves seeing how happy you get when you win.
Satoru is the type of husband who Loves, loves, loves to kiss you. Anywhere and anytime.
Satoru is the type of husband who always needs something sweet after dinner and sometimes convinces you that you also need a sweet treat after dinner. (He tells you it’s because you deserve it and of course you do).
Satoru is the type of husband who found out that you liked to read in the beginning of the relationship and now makes it a routine to read at least one chapter of your favorite comfort story each night.
Satoru is the type of husband who would joke about You, Suguru and himself getting married but then actually gets jealous when geto mentioned that the idea didn’t sound so bad.
Satoru is the type of husband who gets all sulky when you won’t let him in the bathroom while you take care of your business. (He’s weird).
Satoru is the type of husband who loves public affection and will kiss you in the candy aisle of the grocery store.
Satoru is the type of husband who makes it his life’s mission to protect you from anyone or anything. He will gladly risk his life to achieve that.
Satoru is the type of husband who almost breaks his neck trying to get different picture angles of your face before your girls night. He loves seeing you dolled up to go out with friends but deep down inside he’s fake sad that he wasn’t invited to girls night.
Satoru is the type of husband who falls in love at first sight.
Satoru is the type of husband who cuddles up to you like a baby and slobs on you when he’s sleeping. He says it’s because you’re too comfy for your own good.
synopsis. when satoru takes off his glasses, all he can see is you
contents. suggestive! 16+ fluff & angst if you squint. nerd!gojo x fem!reader. no est rel. no clue what they are. college au. cw. making out. a smidge of grinding. profanities. pushing the cocky nerdjo agenda! i fear he’s a warning himself. ˖ ࣪ . ࿐
satoru talks a lot. he talks about everything under the sun. it’s one of the first things you noticed about him. his lips are always moving.
he talks about digimon with an alarming level of sincerity. you’d once made the mistake of asking which season of digimon adventure was the best, resulting in an hour long lecture about each character arc and the significance of omegamon. you’d only understood a quarter of it because of how dramatic he was.
he has a thing for older animes like neon genesis evangelion and cowboy bepop too. he has the largest collection of figurines and manga you’ve ever seen, and he unironically says things like ‘see you, space cowboy’ when he leaves your tutoring sessions.
satoru gojo is in short, a total fucking nerd. he’s also unfairly attractive. and completely insufferable. you’re not entirely sure how someone this cocky and unbothered ended up offering to tutor you.
he’d claimed it was for extra credit. but you had an inkling that he liked hearing the sound of his own voice too much to keep it contained in classrooms.
you’ve been meeting twice a week for two months now — originally in a dusty corner in the library, then the rustic cafe near campus, and eventually here. your dorm. where the air is warmer, the lights are mellow, and he sits close enough for you to smell the lingering scent of citrusy shampoo on his hair
tonight, he’s explaining the basics of nuclear physics again. your physics mock is in three days and your brain is a jumble of missed deadlines and monster energy drinks. you’re supposed to be learning. you should be learning, but you aren’t.
because his knee keeps brushing against yours under the table. because his blue-light glasses are slipping again, just enough that his ivory lashes are visible over the top of the frame, and he keeps pushing them up with a practiced flick of his index finger. it shouldn’t make your stomach flutter, but it does
he’s saying something about calculating half-life durations when he realizes you haven’t heard a word he’s said in the past ten minutes. you were too busy watching his hands, watching him write. the sleeves of his navy blue hoodie are pulled up to his elbows, revealing the long stretch of his toned forearms
he glances at you and frowns. “are you even listening to me?”
you blink at him, lips parted slightly. “mhm, i am”
“you’re not” he leans in, tilting his head. then he laughs lowly, “you’re completely zoning out”
“i’m not zoning out” you protest weakly, your voice ultimately betrays you. it sounds faraway and breathless.
“oh yeah?” he counters as teasing as ever, “what did i just say then?”
your eyes flicker to the notebook in front of you like it might offer you a lifeline. it doesn’t. the equations on the page are blurry and meaningless. he grins. that insufferable, cocky grin that makes you want to punch him and kiss him in the same breath
“that’s what i thought” he says smugly, leaning back in his chair, “you just missed the part where i explained the most difficult question on the mock. god you’re helpless”
his knee bumps against yours again, deliberately this time. there’s no malice behind his words, just something that you can’t quite place a finger on.
“maybe i’d learn more if you weren’t so fucking distracting” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest
satoru blinks, a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he knows exactly what you mean, and knows exactly how to make you say it explicitly. “fucking distracting?” he echoes, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table, propping his chin in the divot of his palm. “that so?”
his fingers drum absentmindedly against the page he’d been annotating, but his eyes are fixed on you. sharp, icy blue, and cocky. god, he’s so cocky.
“tell me more” he prompts, nudging his knee against yours beneath the table. “really, i’m dying to know how exactly i’m disrupting your learning process”
you shoot him a look that’s equal parts exasperated and flustered. it doesn’t faze him, not for a second. his blue eyes are unwavering, feigning innocence like he’s not mentally undressing you with each blink.
this isn’t new. the tension’s been there for weeks. in every late-night study session. in each casual insult and complicated equation. but tonight it feels tighter, like something about to snap
“for starters” you glare, “you keep brushing your leg against mine under the table”
satoru arches a brow, shifting beneath the table until his thigh slots against yours. you hate how it makes your heart race. you hate the fact he knows it does.
“what else?” he asks languidly, his fingers toy idly with your gel pen as he watches your expression contort into a mixture of embarrassment and desire. he’s not even touching you properly and you’re already squirming in your seat “c’mon, don’t hold back now. you were doing so good”
“you’re so full of yourself, it’s sickening. .” you trail off. you could lie. you could say you didn’t find him attractive. but he would see right through it. he’s a triple major with insane deductive skills a knack for pushing your buttons. lying would be pointless. “. . . you do realize you’re hot, right?”
it hits him a little harder than he expected it to. for a moment his smirk falters, not completely, he’s too composed for that. it’s merely a subtle pause in the rhythm of his arrogance.
“the only reason you’re still single is because you’re an asshole” your words are matter-of-fact. he blinks, then he grins. the kind of smile that sends shivers rolling down your spine
“i’m offended” he says, placing a hand dramatically over his chest, “how will i ever recover?”
“i’m not done” you quip, “you walk around campus like everyone is beneath you. like no one is smart or funny enough to be worth your time. and you act like tutoring me is some punishment, like it’s an inconvenience and maybe i would actually be able to focus for once if you weren’t so. . .so you”
he chuckles lowly, and it’s infuriating how pretty it sounds. “so me, huh?”
“you’re condescending” you continue, “you’re so obnoxious about being smart. you barely study and you still get perfect grades like it’s child’s play. and then you sit there making me feel like an idiot for struggling with physics—”
“i don’t think you’re an idiot” his voice cuts through yours firmly, and it startles you a lot more than it should, “i wouldn’t have offered to tutor you if i thought you were”
“could’ve fooled me, you constantly act like you think i’m stupid”
“i think a lot of things about you” he admits, running a hand through his hair, “i think you’re overwhelmed and that’s why you have so many missing assignments.”
satoru’s face isn’t clouded with his usual arrogance and charm, his eyes are so bare and blue you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach
“i think, you second-guess yourself even when you’re right. that you panic when answers don’t come to you easily even though you’re plenty smart enough to figure them out anyway”
he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, blue-light glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose again.
“and i think” he pauses, before continuing softly, “you’re very, very pretty when you’re mad at me. . . but i don’t think you’re stupid. never have”
your breath catches in your throat as you look at him. really look at him. for a second you see beyond the cocky nerd who corrects teachers loudly with a smirk tugging at his lips, who walks around campus like the pavement was laid down just for him, who spends his nights arguing in reddit threads about whether or not neon genesis evangelion is overrated
( it’s not he swears )
you see the nerd who holds your gaze like you’re the only thing worth focusing on. like all the equations he’s memorized, all the problem sets and lectures, like everything in the universe is incapable of teaching him how to look away from you
not newton. not kircchoff. not even einstein himself.
you exhale slowly, “i was saying . . .the point is. .”
“you can’t focus” he finishes for you, lowly “because i’m distracting and you hate how much you want to kiss me”
your eyes narrow into slits “don’t twist my words i never said that”
“you didn’t have to” his tone is gentle, almost playful and it slips under your skin like static. he’s not wrong, that’s the worst part. he reads you like he reads formulas, with terrifying ease, precision, and too much confidence.
your mouth opens but nothing comes out. his eyes drop to your lips, then flick back up again so quick you would’ve thought you imagined it if you didn’t know him. the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s enjoying this more than he should. he’s entirely too close, perched lazily on the edge of his chair like he’s been planning this since the first time your knees touched under the library table
“so let’s do something about it”
you swallow dryly, “about what?”
he leans forward, glasses catching the amber of the hanging lights. “your attention problem” he murmurs, “clearly you need some redirection”
you hate the way your stomach flips at his words. you hate the way the word redirection sends heat crawling down your spine. he’s watching you too carefully now. “you’re not serious” you say, but your voice lacks conviction
“oh i’m very serious” he smirks, “you wanna focus? then stop pretending you don’t want me to kiss you senseless” his lips brush against the shell of your ear “and just let me”
you don’t move. you can’t. because he’s close, so impossibly close. close enough that you can smell the spearmint lingering on his tongue. close enough that your body is already betraying you, leaning in before your mind can process it
his blue-light glasses slide a little further down the bridge of his nose. you hate him. you want him. you want to kiss the smirk off his mouth, to see if he still talks so much when he’s breathless
“i can’t stand you” your eyes fall to his mouth, and when they rise again his eyes are already fixed on them
his grin sharpens, “sure you can’t” the heat between you simmers. it pulses in the air as he slides one hand beneath the table and places it casually on your thigh. his fingers draw lazy circles on the skin above your knee where your shorts ride up. his hand slips higher up your thigh, fingertips grazing your skin like he’s waiting for you to tell him he’s gone too far
you don’t. you lean in closer and he laughs lowly, “that’s what i thought” he murmurs, and then he kisses you. it’s not gentle or shy. he kisses you like the only thing he craves more than being right is this. he kisses the way he studies. thoroughly, confidently.
you gasp softly into his mouth and he swallows it like he’s starving. like he’s waited weeks for this. like he’s spent each tutoring session pretending not to notice the way your eyes drop to his mouth when he’s explaining. like he’s cramming the way your breath catches when his teeth graze your bottom lip. the way your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie like you’ll crumble if he pulls away.
his glasses bump against your cheek once. twice. you laugh against his lips. he pulls back just an inch, brows furrowing ever so slightly, “stupid fucking glasses” he mutters
you’re still grinning when your fingers slide up the sides of his face, pushing against his black frames. his breath stutters as he watches you curiously, “take them off”
and he does, quickly, clumsily, like they’re the only thing keeping him from kissing you the way he really wants to. his glasses clatter on the table, already forgotten. there are no lenses to soften the sharpness of his gaze. there’s no barrier to mute the staggering color of his irises.
his eyes are so vividly, violently blue they steal the breath right from your lungs. they aren’t just pretty. they’re volatile. the kind of blue that swallows whole galaxies. the kind of blue that renders every law of physics irrelevant.
you feel his fingers dig into your sides and his thighs tense under you as he pulls you onto his lap. you’re still straddling him, legs pressed to either side of him. and there’s nothing between you but soft fabric and the unbearable heat growing by the second. he groans when your hips move, it’s almost imperceptible but it’s enough to drive him crazy.
satoru kisses down your throat, breath warm and heavy as his lips trail across the crook of your neck. his teeth graze your collarbone and your body jolts in response, hips rocking into him again. his hands slide lower, anchoring your thighs. his thumbs trace soft circles against your skin as his lips return to yours.
when you shift again, he bites down on your bottom lip like he’s trying and failing to restrain himself. “fuck” he breathes hoarsely. his fingers slip under the hem of your t-shirt, your skin is warm and smooth beneath his touch
“i hate how good you are at this” you murmur, kissing him hard and desperate. he leans back just enough for you to see the way his dazed, glassy eyes don’t leave your face. you roll your hips again, slower this time, and the sound he makes is guttural. his head falls back, ivory curls a disheveled halo around him.
you can feel him hard and insistent beneath you, and you both know he’s seconds away from losing whatever self control he has left. and if you let it, this will go further. too far.
he blinks curiously as you pull away. you’re still straddling him, still flushed and breathless and high off the heat of him. your lips are swollen and you’re fisting his hoodie like you’re trying to keep yourself grounded “i should. . . we should go back to studying”
satoru looks at you like you’ve just told him gravity isn’t real. like you’ve just told him one piece is better than bleach. like you’ve just told him pokemon is better than digimon “seriously?”
“my physics mock” you say, cheeks burning, “i can’t fail, my grades. . .” he blinks again, hair tousled, lips puffy and red. he looks so painfully blue-balled that you almost feel bad. almost.
“now you want to be focused?” his voice is octaves higher, disbelieving, “you just climbed into my lap and made out with me like we were about to . .” he gestures vaguely between your bodies “. .and now you want to go over radioactive decay?”
“yes” you say, trying to sound firm. but your voice cracks halfway through and the way he’s still holding your waist doesn’t help
he groans, tipping his head back again like he was searching the heavens for an ounce of patience. his throat bobs with a swallowed curse. “you’re killing me”
you bite your lip, unable to stifle the laughter spilling from your throat, “i’m pretty sure you’ll live”
“i might not!” he whines, dropping his head forward again to glare at you, blue eyes bright and full of disbelief. “d’you have any idea what it’s like to be this close to hooking up with the hottest girl on campus, only for her to ask to talk about nuclear physics”
you blink slowly. “you think i’m the hottest girl on campus?”
satoru stares at you for a beat, jaw flexing. then he scowls. “that’s not the point.” he groans again, dragging both hands down his face like he’s trying not to combust. when they fall away, he’s still looking at you, utterly, irrevocably wrecked. like he hasn’t quite remembered how to breathe yet.
“okay,” he mutters, “physics first” his voice is a little hoarse and rough around the edges
“physics first” you echo, starting to clamber off him. your weight shifts as you ease yourself off his lap. your hands brush against his chest for balance. when your thigh brushes over him he lets out a pained exhale that he tries and fails to keep quiet
his eyes flutter shut and he murmurs curses under his breath. his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs, knuckles pale, like he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for you again. he cracks an eye open, expression twisted into something between a grin and a grimace, “physics first”
“. . and second?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper
“second” he says, tilting his head with mock thoughtfulness, “you pass your physics mock and i get to kiss you again, properly, without being blue-balled by nuclear fucking physics”
you snicker before you can stop yourself, “you’re so dramatic” you’re laughing now, shoulders shaking and he doesn’t bother to hide the fond way he watches you
“pass the mock” he says, voice dipping again, “then i’m going to make you forget every law of physics i’ve ever taught you”
your breath hitches again. because he says it like it’s a threat and a promise. your body still feels the imprint of his hands on your waist. still radiates the heat of his lips against yours.
“until then,” he adds, voice lighter now, “i’m going to be a very responsible, hands-on tutor.”
you raise a brow, lips twitching. “hands-on?”
he glances at you, all faux innocence and immutable cockiness. “strictly academic. at least until you ace this mock.”
summary: frat boy gojo is an academic weapon by day and party animal by night. with his model looks and charming personality, he could go for anyone he wants. but ever since he met you, he's been completely heart-struck. you're one of the few people to share his nerdy interests and the only one who unknowingly makes his heart beat a million times per minute. but will he be able to successfully pull you without anyone getting in the way?
notes: this is a rewrite of my series! deleting the old version lowkey hurt but this is more in-depth. i also renamed it because the other title was too long. if you can tell i know nothing about digimon and physics so if anyone would like to educate me pls do 🥲 anyways enjoy reading 🫶🏽
contents: sfw, fluff, crack, fem!reader, mentions of insecurities, swearing, mention of hookups (no actual smut), a lot of dialogue and texting
wc: 4.7k
satoru gojo was a man who had always stood out effortlessly. the way he holds himself in that lazy charismatic manner—he knows what he’s doing. wherever he went, people were so drawn to him you would think he was a human magnet.
satoru had won the lottery in life. he could literally model with how tall and unique-looking he is, he comes from an insanely rich family, he’s popular, the vp of his fraternity (he turned down the role as frat president because he thought it would be too boring), and he’s on top of all of his studies.
he’s also a strong party animal— okay, strong may not be the best word. after the first few parties, it was a known fact that satoru gojo can’t hold his liquor well. but either way, a party was not a party without satoru’s presence.
when he’s often asked how he’s so smart despite always being seen at every function, he just shrugs and hits them with the:
“i don’t even study like that. i guess it’s a natural talent of mine” which he knew would only make people envy him 10 times more.
however that statement could not be further from the truth.
if he’s not at the frat house then he’s hiding out at the back of the library. he’s typically wearing a hoodie and sunglasses to disguise his distinct cloudy white hair and cerulean eyes. he goes to these random but extreme lengths just so he can fully lock in with studying without any distractions.
during all of his lectures he sits at the very front either attentively taking notes or arguing back and forth with his professors. his friends sat with him find it hilarious, he calls it dedication to the course.
this one time one of his professors were so annoyed with him they said that maybe he should teach the lesson instead. rather than doubling down in his seat, satoru proudly stood up and walked over to where his professor was standing at the front and took over the lesson for the rest of the hour.
safe to say the professor was left in shock when the students admitted without any bias that they learned better with satoru explaining and breaking down the topic in…dessert terms?
anyone can see why his ego is through the roof, it’s like the world bends in his favour.
the first time satoru properly notices you is during his favourite class—physics, hence why it’s also his major. you were a few rows behind him when you raised your hand to answer the professor’s question.
you see, satoru is one of those people who will shamelessly twist his entire body to face whoever raises their hand to talk and stare into their soul. he most likely doesn’t even realise how creepy he looks to everyone else when he does that. is it a subconscious method to taunt them or is he just like that? who even knows anymore.
and of course, he’s now doing the exact same to you.
you rarely speak up in this class because most of the time the content seriously confuses you. but to your surprise, you actually got the question right! seems like your studying was truly paying off.
whilst you’re mentally celebrating in your head, you accidentally make eye contact with a pair of the most brightest blue eyes you think you’ve ever seen. in this moment all you can think is:
why the hell is gojo staring at me like that?
you briefly know about this guy—but really who doesn’t know him? your roommate shoko is also good friends with him and mentions funny drunken stories about him from time to time.
his eyes are wide open towards you and his mouth slightly agape. to you it looks like he’s spaced out, but you don’t notice how he’s now gone slightly pink by the ears.
unfortunately for you, your facial expressions will speak before you get the chance to. your eyebrows furrow and your face scrunches up into a heavily concerned look whilst he stares at you like you’ve solved world hunger.
you then remember that you have free will and don’t have to endure this slightly embarrassing atmosphere. so like the most natural thing you think to do, you look down to your notes and start acting like you’re busy writing notes to avoid this already awkward situation.
meanwhile satoru’s mind is having an existential crisis of its own. he’s in a state of complete awe the moment his eyes land upon you. he’s never seen you properly up until now and he doesn’t want to turn away anytime soon.
he doesn’t miss how your face screwed up at his stare. fuck, he probably looks like a creep right now. yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. it was like your resting bitch face and contrasting soft voice held him in a trance. dramatic much?
now he’s just mad at himself for not noticing you all this time. he’s still stuck in a complete daze until-
“gojo! turn back around and focus!” professor yaga shouted which causes him to jump in his seat from shock. the whole class abrupts into laughter and he can only nervously chuckle before turning away.
wait a minute…was he seriously still staring at you this whole time? even after you looked away?
at this point, you’re worried that something was on your face and he happened to noticed of all people. ugh, just your luck.
the bell rings and satoru’s packing up his things slower than usual in hopes of being able to talk to you.
“bro what’s taking you so long?” his friend groaned to which he rolls his eyes.
“don’t wait up for me, i need to ask the prof something”
he slowly grew impatient in waiting for you to come down, so he decided to finally leave. just as he left his row-
thud
“ow!” yep. he had now bumped into you. this day was clearly not in his favour. he couldn’t even apologise straight away when he sees you in front of him. you’re even more beautiful up close. he scans you over to act like he’s checking if you hurt. but really it’s an excuse to look at you for longer—like he has to memorise your face.
you perfectly emulate the vibes of the mc from a dreamy shoujo anime. from the way your tinted lip gloss plumps your perfect lips, to how your pink double off the shoulder top hugs your torso in all the right places, along with your pretty plaid brown & pink skirt that emphasised your simple but effective style. and god, your scent. he could faintly smell your perfume of something like vanilla and a bakery.
“oh shit, my bad!” his voice cracked which only reminded him how bad he was messing this up.
fuck my fucking chungus life.
he can redeem himself…right?
“sorry love, i should’ve watched where i was going” he shines his typical, flashy grin whilst rubbing his nape to compose himself.
“um…don’t worry, it’s all good.” you glance at him once with a quick but polite smile.
your beautifully manicured nails tap against your tote bag as you walk away. he then notices your badge of biyomon from digimon pinned to your bag—alongside many other badges of multiple animes and games.
his eyes lit up like a puppy being shown its favourite treats. now he’s 100% certain that you’re heaven sent.
of course, satoru was a nerd in other aspects. whether it be something mundane like the gym or his subjects, but they were more respectable interests. not that he cared about what people had to say or anything…
okay maybe just a little.
it all came down to feeling like he had a reputation to uphold since he was a child. his parents constantly drilled into his head to act a certain way. as he grew older, it became easier to defy them and their expectations.
but their reminders would still linger in the back of his mind. words that told him to hide his flaws from the rest of the world and to only show the best version of himself. sometimes it was easier said than done to ignore it all.
“wait up!” he jogs up to you whilst trying to not appear so frantic.
you hear him, but you keep walking, simply assuming that he was calling out to one of his friends who were sat next to him. imagine your shock when gojo is now in front of you and stopping you in your tracks.
“were you talking to me?” you ask, slightly startled.
“yeah, you sweets.”
you won’t lie and say this feels kind of intimidating. his 6 foot something frame is currently towering over you and you’re truly lost on what he could possibly want to say to you right now. but at the same time, these pet names he’s giving you makes your heart unknowingly skip a beat.
is he about to bully you?
…
yeah…so you have an obvious tendency of assuming the worst case scenario. you’re not even sure why your mind went there but it seemed to be the most plausible explanation.
“is everything okay…?”
“everything’s great! sorry, i know this is random but i saw your biyomon badge—do you play?”
oh? your tense shoulders drop and you lightly giggle because that was the last question you expected to be asked. that heavenly sound makes his lips curve upwards into a soft smile.
“yeah, i play occasionally. i used to be obsessed with the anime as well because of my older brother who put me on when we were younger.”
you continue your walk to your next class, but now with gojo joining you by your side.
“um, what do you think of digimon? do you play as well?” you ask inquisitively.
“who, little old me?” he asks like he’s been waiting his entire life for this question “of course i love it!” he grins like it’s second nature and wow his teeth are beaming.
“been playing since i was child as well. every other game out there just wasn’t it for me. i’ve binge watched the anime so many times that i’ve lost track now. but now because of all these frat duties and exams in the way, i rarely ever get the time.”
“ugh, i hear that. you know my friend shoko, right?”
“yeah! we’ve been friends since middle school—now why has she done me the disservice of not introducing us to each other sooner enough?”
you laugh, a little bit flustered and unsure on what to say to that.
“she once asked me if digimon was like a sequel to pokémon! i forced her to listen to me ramble on for hours about how they’re not the same.”
“she said the exact same thing to me too! i had to put her in timeout, the disrespect was insane.” he sighs dramatically at the memory, meanwhile you’re dying at the thought of shoko accepting her fate in timeout.
“at this point i’m convinced she gets a thrill out of rage baiting everyone around her.”
your steps come to a hault when you look up and realise you’re at your next class.
“oh- this is my class.”
you’re kind of upset that your conversation has to come to an end so soon.
“wait—sorry darling, i didn’t catch your name?”
“i’m [name], and you?”
“a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” he winks at you.
why is he such a flirt, and why does it work on you?
“i’m satoru gojo, but you can just call me satoru. um, so– i know this is sudden but do you think i can get your number? i’d love to talk more with you.”
“y-yeah, i’d really like that.” pulling your phone out to exchange numbers.
when you give him your phone so he can put in his number, your hands brush against his briefly. his larger hands feel warm and surprisingly soft. you jolt back slightly whereas he doesn’t shy away, still smiling brightly before giving your phone back with his contact in.
“great! i’ll text you later today?”
“that’s fine, bye satoru!” you wave him goodbye as you head inside your class. he waves back and he already knows that you’re going to be the death of him when he hears you say his name—he’d literally give you anything you asked for.
damn i’m easy.
—
you couldn’t even properly focus in your next class, your mind kept going back to satoru. ugh, this was so dumb. you only had like one conversation yet here you are unable to stop thinking about him.
if your friends shoko and utahime were with you right now and saw how you became after one interaction with a guy, they’d definitely force you to go out with them and actually socialise. that honestly sounded like your personal hell.
but then again, you couldn’t keep them in the dark, could you…?
your fingers have already found your trio’s group chat like muscle memory and now typing away like your life depends on it.
you: you guys won’t believe who i spoke to today
hime 🖤: ooo who??
sho 🤎: who was it?
you: freaking satoru gojo
you: he’s in my physics class
hime 🖤: ugh, that weirdo? you can do sm better babe
you: pls we only had one convo, i don’t think it’s like that
you: even tho he flirted w me
you: like a lot…
you: idk tho maybe i’m reading into it
sho 🤎: be honest, what do you think of him?
you: hmm honestly? i think he’s cute
you: we got each other’s numbers so maybe we’ll talk more?
you: also sho we lowkey talked abt you
sho 🤎: good things i hope? 🤨
you: i mean he told me about how he put you in timeout…?
sho 🤎: is that his weak ass attempt at impressing you? it’s just a regular occurrence atp lol
hime 🖤: why am i not surprised 🤦🏻♀️
hime 🖤: but [name] just be careful, you never know how it truly is with these frat guys
you didn’t want to admit it, but utahime had a good point—a point you were trying to ignore. there was a high chance that satoru was simply a natural flirt and was like that with every other girl. who’s to say that you’re any special?
you: yeah maybe you’re right
you set your phone down after sending the last text, not wanting to give it anymore thought.
—
a few hours later, school wasn’t finished yet but satoru had a free session which was a good time to head to the library.
he’s once again zoned out and grinning to himself, thinking back to his earlier interaction with you and how the conversation began to flow so easily. sure, he’s flirted with other girls before for quick and easy hookups—but everything about this time felt different.
“yo, satoru!” a familiar voice called out, snapping him out of his daze. he immediately recognised the voice to be none other than suguru geto, his childhood best friend and now in the same fraternity as him. “i wasn’t even that far behind you, how did you not hear me the first two times? you turning old n’ deaf or something?”
“oh, i was daydreaming!” satoru joyfully exclaims with a hint of sarcasm. well…is it still sarcasm if it’s true?
“haha, very funny.” suguru mocks monotonously, “what were you really so lost in thought about anyways?”
“nothing! just the usual assignments..” he answers way too quickly, raising suguru’s suspicions even further.
“sure, sure…” he replies doubtfully but decides to not dwell on it for now. he’d get the real answer out of him later. “anyways, you ready for tonight’s party?”
“shit, that’s today?”
“satoru, how are you forgetting as the frats’ vice president? didn’t you literally plan it?”
“yes…” he groans “it’s cool though, i would’ve found out anyways by the time i came back to the house and saw the party happening.”
“that’s not– you know what? sure.”
“wait– what time does it start again?”
“just how on earth are you still the vice president?”
“i’m kidding! geez! take a chill pill suguru, think i saw a grey hair pop out from those so called ‘shiny’ locks of yours.” his evil snicker echoes.
“you’d know a lot about grey hair wouldn’t you? your whole hair is basically grey...” the petty raven head deliberately mutters just loud enough to be heard by his friend.
“WATCH IT!” he shrieks loudly and completely offended, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GIRLS- NO WAIT– GUYS AS WELL LOVE MY LUSCIOUS CLOUDY LOCKS?! OR HOW MANY MODELLING AGENCIES HAVE BEEN HUNTING ME DOWN?”
“i don’t think grandmas and grandpas who mistake you as their age-mate count…”
“does your mom count?”
“SATORU YOU–”
later that day at 6:30pm
the faint scent of cheap perfume, alcohol and weed lingered in the winter air, a usual sign that the party had just begun. although satoru came at what he thought was an early time, the house was already almost packed. the bass of the music grew louder with each step to the frat house.
as satoru entered the house, he immediately felt all of the stares on him. they weren’t stares of judgement –well, aside from the anomalies that were nanami and sukuna– but looks of admiration. even in the low lit room and with his sunglasses on, it was still heavily obvious.
sorority girls eyed him up and down, smirking at him shamelessly whilst the frat bros cheered at the sight of their fellow vice president.
“about time you showed up!”
“fashionably late huh?”
“not my fault everyone’s always so eager to see me~” he teases whilst making his way to the kitchen for a drink, the crowd practically parts ways for him alone.
the music’s just loud enough to block out all of his worries for now. he takes the ladle to try out whatever new horrendous drink was created and deal with the consequences of his hangover tomorrow.
“satoru~” a hand snaked to his shoulder from behind, her nails clawing into his shoulder almost possessively. he flinches at the familiar yet unwanted touch.
he immediately knew who it was, not even bothering to turn around and bless her with his full engagement. he glanced backwards at her briefly before speaking up “mei mei, hi.”
“i’ve missed you y’know? feels like i barely see you around anymore” she takes it upon herself to go around the table and face him directly, meanwhile satoru suddenly finds the bowl of the unknown juice very interesting.
“hmm, might be because i don’t want to see you?” which receives a low chuckle from her.
“still as funny as ever i see”
“i wasn’t joking?” he replies earnestly to which her smirk slightly falters.
mei mei was satoru’s ex from almost a year ago, which explains why he had no energy to entertain any kind of conversation with her. talking to a wall would’ve been much more interesting in his eyes.
their breakup last year was…messy to say the least. satoru initiated it which mei mei did not take well.
she only ever saw him as her personal ATM machine or for sex. of course, as a boyfriend he had no problem for either matter. after all he came from a stupidly rich family and he didn’t mind fulfilling her needs too. but that’s all there was to it. like his love was something transactional.
any basic level of respect was practically one-sided from satoru’s end. during the relationship it seemed like mei mei just wanted to boast that she had the infamous satoru gojo solely exclusive to her and her only, as if he was a special prize to be paraded around.
realising mei mei was still in front of him and moving closer by the minute, now torturing him with her usual speech about how she misses them together, satoru sighed dramatically before interrupting her,
“well, this was not nice but i’m going to leave now. i think i see nanamin calling me over there? okay baii~”nanami was in fact not calling for him. ironically, he avoids satoru in the same way satoru does from mei mei. but he might as well harass nanami whilst he’s still at the party, right?
“NA NA MIN– oh hey shoko!” he stops to talk to her, to which nanami on the other side of the living room takes the initiative to escape the party and ultimately escape satoru.
“hi gojo.”
“actually, no! don’t ‘hi gojo’ me!” raising his hand dismissively before continuing on with his rant “when were you gonna tell me about [name]? were you planning to hide her away forever like mother gothel did to rapunzel?”
“what are you talking about? she just doesn’t like the party scene so she doesn’t come with us. that’s probably why you haven’t met her properly yet since now.”
“oh!…right– i knew that. what i REALLY meant was why haven’t you introduced me to her?”
“why should i have to? she’s not the type to want a one and done deal like you. plus you don’t need to know all of my female friends you perv.”
“shoko you don’t understand, i haven’t even thought about anything like that with her.” he reaffirms “and stop thinking of me as some sort of slut! i don’t just think with my dick unlike others here…”
“so what exactly do you want from me?” she sighs as she lights up her cigarette. she can sense that he’s being truly genuine in his tone and desperation.
“be my wingwoman! put in a good word for me, your good old childhood friend, please?” he pouts like a kicked puppy to attempt guilt-tripping her. it doesn’t work. “what does she think of me so far?”
“oh my god satoru, you sound so pathetic right now.” she groans whilst debating how much she should let on. “um..she thinks you’re cool i guess?”
“cool in a hot way or friendly way?”
“i don’t know?!”
“wait– she’s single right?”
“would she have taken your number if she wasn’t?”
“i don’t know, it hasn’t stopped other girls from talking to me in the past.” he shrugs cluelessly.
shoko rolls her eyes for a good ten seconds, now contemplating if utahime was right. “yes. she’s single.”
“phew!” he comically wipes the imaginary sweat off his forehead “the last thing i needed was another girl’s angry partner plotting on my downfall.”
“right…well good luck with that satoru. i’m gonna go harass choso for a deal on his stash, shit’s getting too pricey these days.” she murmurs in annoyance, already waving him off and speed-walking away before he can bombard her with fifty more questions.
—
although your friends were usually out at a party on a friday night, you were currently in the kitchen of your and shoko’s shared dorm baking kinder bueno stuffed cookies. it was also in good preparation for shoko’s inevitable hangover tomorrow morning.
it wasn’t like your friends were leaving you out, rather they often begged you to come and join them. but after your small share of parties in freshman year, you knew it wasn’t for you. it may seem pretty boring but you’ve always preferred the quiet nights to yourself.
just as you’re waiting for the cookies that were fresh from the oven to cool down, your phone on the counter pings notifying you of a text.
could it be him?
satoru: hey sweets 😗
speak of the devil…
you: is that my new nickname?
satoru: only if you want it to be ;)
he’s flirting right? you might as well be bold back.
you: hmm why not
you: but only if i can give one to you too 🙃
god, you’re pretty sure this is how your ten year old cousin flirts with her five different boyfriends. but she must also be onto something if she has five of them…
satoru: oh please do
satoru: even if it’s degrading i won’t mind 🥹
you: you’re so weird 😭
you: what do you think of toru?
satoru: immediately yes
satoru: from now on you can only call me that
you: okayy (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)
satoru: what r you up to rn? i’m missing you at this party🙁
satoru: [sent 1 image]
he sends a picture of him pouting dramatically. the picture’s angled up high whilst he’s sat on the couch, so you don’t miss how his t-shirt clings tightly onto his well-defined body. he’s wearing expensive sunglasses that conceal his bright eyes. he looks…really good. but why does he have sunglasses on inside?
you: not really a fan of parties, sorry (,, ‸ ,, )
you: i’m waiting for these cookies i made to cool down as we speak
satoru: ooo can i see?
you send a selfie of you winking at the camera and making a peace sign with the tray of cookies still in frame behind you.
satoru: looks so good
satoru: and the cookies too 😅
you: you’re such a flirt
satoru: seems like i can’t help it when it comes to you
satoru: but seriously, those cookies look amazing 🤤
you: thank you! maybe i can make you some in the future
satoru: i’d absolutely love that :)
satoru: also yk how we have that physics test on monday?
you: now why would you remind me (╥﹏╥)
satoru: because i have a proposition for you!
you: i’m listening…
satoru: you, me, and a study date tomorrow at the library? 👀
a study date? does he mean it like a real date?
okay, act cool act cool–
you: i’m down :) what time?
satoru: 3pm work for you?
you: yes! ( ദ്ദി ˙ ᗜ ˙ )
satoru: great! can’t wait to see you ;)
you give his message a like whilst your heart beats so loudly it feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest. how did one conversation with him already land you a date only a few hours later?
—
meanwhile at the frat party, satoru’s grinning from ear to ear at his phone. he’s trying to be discreet so to not raise any suspicion, but he’s failing miserably.
mei mei on the other side of the room is still watching him like a hawk, not missing how he lights up whilst typing away. she’s seen him with other girls after they broke up but this time it looks completely different. judging from his facial expressions alone, he seems so much more genuine. way more genuine than he’d ever been with her.
“study date, huh?” brown eyes from behind the couch peak over satorus’ shoulder to view his text chain.
“SUGURU! can you mind your damn business?!” he groans in embarrassment.
“is this what had you zoned out earlier? a little crush?”
seeing no effort in lying to his best friend, he admitted “something like that, yeah.” sighing since finally confessing that out loud for the first time.
“interesting, didn’t think you were one for crushes.” suguru jumps over the couch (very nonchalantly) to take up the spare seat next to him.
“i’m not. but…i don’t even know man. she’s real cute. i just met her in my physics class today and she’s now living in my head rent free.” his hands drag over to cover his face.
suguru studies his friend a little longer, it’s kind of amusing to see how perplexed he feels by possibly having a crush on someone. “seems intense” he comments.
“oh trust me. i feel sick, but in a good way? like as i was texting her, it felt like i had moths in my stomach.”
“you mean butterflies?”
“nah. pretty sure the saying is moths, dumbass.”
“i guess bro…so you’re planning to just study as a date? seems pretty boring if you ask me.”
“y’know it’s not illegal to speak in the library right? i’m obviously going to try and get to know her more whilst we study. it’s called multitasking, or a more fancy term, maximising my utility” he states matter of factly.
“i’m sure ‘talking’ is all you plan to do.” suguru teases playfully.
“HUUHH? why’d you say talking like that you creep?! and shoko tried calling me the pervert…” he mumbles (still offended by shoko) which makes suguru burst out laughing.
regardless, one thing was certain. satoru was mentally kicking his feet in excitement, barely able to wait for tomorrow to come.
likes comments & reblogs are really appreciated <3
please do not feed my writing to ai in any way or copy/share my writing as your own work.
Where they are ignoring each other or something and they don't really talk to each other
and megumi and yuji try not to make it obvious something is wrong in front of their sister so they don't worry her
In the end they make up
FIRST FIGHT
♡ — This fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but it can be read independently. All you need to know is that Satoru and the reader are a married couple with a young biological daughter, and they recently adopted Megumi and Yuji.
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: angst, fluff, brief mention of Christmas (Santa, more specifically.)
♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I love this idea, anon! Thank you for contributing to the dad! gojo series!
During a peculiar, lazy weekend, the sky cloudy and the world moving at a slow pace, Megumi and Yuji were sitting on the couch in the living room playing video games together.
“Megumi!” Yuji frantically smashed a button on his controller with his thumb. “You’re telling me you exercise curses, but aiming in video games is your weakness?”
“Shut up. I was aiming perfectly.”
Suddenly, they heard faint shouting coming from upstairs, and after giving each other a puzzled look and pausing the game, they decided to sneakily investigate.
They creeped down the hallway quietly.
Satoru knew that the two boys were right outside of your bedroom door, listening. He was Satoru Gojo, after all.
But it truly didn't matter if they decided to eavesdrop or not, because either way, they knew that you were both fighting about something.
In fact, it probably would have been better for them to listen in, so they would know exactly what the argument was about instead of making assumptions, because as adopted children, they were more than likely going to assume that the argument was about them.
Especially Megumi.
He didn't like the idea of eavesdropping, but as he heard you fussing, his heart started to pound dreadfully within his chest.
Naturally, he assumed that he had done something wrong, and that tomorrow, he would be stuck sleeping on campus and once again without a proper family. So he needed to listen. Satoru knew that.
Yuji pressed his ear against your shut bedroom door and listened as best as he could.
Apparently, you were upset about Satoru's latest mission, which he had just returned home from and much later than you had expected. He didn't call until after he completed the job to let you know that he was finally on the way home.
That little incident also brought up a similar topic, which was that his work trips were happening more often and lasting for a longer amount of time.
Like a domino effect, one thing led to another. Soon enough, you were pointing out all of Satoru’s flaws and the potential impact it could have on you and the rest of the family.
And Satoru didn’t say a word, as he was in tears. He was hurt.
As Yuji listened through the door, Megumi suddenly tapped his shoulder. Yuji turned around and his brother pointed to the little girl making her way down the hallway, frowning sadly.
"Is mommy okay?" She darted her eyes between Megumi and Yuji, incredibly worried that something was wrong.
She sniffled.
The preschooler was very sensitive, born with a big heart and on the verge of tears more often than not.
Thinking that her mom might have been upset was enough to make her start crying, and Yuji could tell from that first sniffle that the waterworks weren't that far behind.
"Come here, Maya Papaya," Yuji smiled brightly, knowing how much she loved that nickname.
The young girl instantly ran up to her crouching brother. He picked her up, rising to his feet as he carried her away from your bedroom door.
"Everything's fine, don't you worry," Yuji softly pinched her cheek, and she squealed adorably. “Don’t get too close to their door, alright? I think they’re planning your super duper awesome surprise party, and we don’t wanna listen in on that, right?”
"Nuh uh!" She shook her head. "I'm gonna be - I'm gonna be five! I hope they invite Barbie 'cause my friend said that . . . that Barbie came to her birthday party and I want Barbie to come to my birthday party."
Yuji started to walk away from your bedroom door with Maya in his arms and Megumi following closely behind.
Yuji didn't know it, but Satoru sighed in relief.
— ♡ —
A few hours had passed.
You and Satoru were doing a horrible job at pretending nothing was wrong.
Satoru looked like a kicked puppy, his blue eyes glistening with sadness even when he tried to fake a smile, and you were stress cleaning all afternoon.
The clinks and clanks of pots and pans being arranged in the kitchen made Maya start to worry once again.
You were being loud. Louder than usual.
And dad hadn't come out of the bedroom.
"Hey," Megumi called out, grabbing her attention. "You know what would be really nice? If you went upstairs and gave Satoru a big hug.”
“Who’s that, Meg-mi?” Maya tilted her head a bit, confused.
She didn’t know who Satoru was. There was only one person upstairs, and his name was dad.
“Uh . . .” Megumi looked down at the floor. He wasn’t comfortable using those affectionate, heavy titles yet — mom and dad.
Yuji noticed his brother’s darting dark eyes.
“He meant to say dad. Why don’t you go and give dad a hug?” Yuji smiled softly.
“Okay!”
The pitter-patter of their younger sister’s feet could be heard as she ran upstairs.
Satoru knew that his little girl was making her way toward his room. Even without his gifted eyes aiding him, he could hear her excited giggles from the hallway.
Wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, he sniffled a bit, and put on his biggest and brightest artificial smile as she ran into his room and shouted, “Daddy!”
“Is that my little muffin?” Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down a bit and holding his arms out for Maya to run into.
He picked her up gently and sat the girl down on his lap.
“I came to hug you,” she beamed. Just then, she noticed that her dad looked a bit different.
His blue eyes were teary, and his cheeks and nose were red.
“What’s wrong, daddy?” With a sad frown, her tiny hand reached up to pat his cheek, attempting to wipe away the glistening wetness where he had failed to dry his tears properly before her arrival.
Satoru’s didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t want to worry her, but he never wanted to lie to his little girl either, except when it was related to her health and safety — and her amusement as well, as he’d go above and beyond to make sure his daughter believed in Santa Claus, including sneaking around the house wearing a fake beard and a pillow underneath his red and white costume.
“Do you remember when we had that little talk about emotions? And I explained what they were?” Satoru asked softly.
“Uh huh,” Maya nodded.
“Well, right now, I’m feeling sad, and so is mommy. But I don’t want you to worry, okay? It’s completely normal to feel sad sometimes.”
Maya blinked at him. Satoru could tell based on the slight tilt of her head that she was thinking, putting her little mind to work.
Suddenly, she reached up, wrapping her little arms around Satoru’s neck, hugging him.
“Aren’t you sweet?” Satoru said, gently rubbing her back. “Thank you for the hug, muffin.”
“We can go play so that you can feel happy!”
It was an offer Satoru couldn’t refuse. With a grin — a real, genuine one this time — Satoru got off of the bed, carrying Maya to her room where they would play with her toys together.
— ♡ —
Meanwhile, as you were aggressively scrubbing down your stove with your soapy sponge, two figures appeared in the archway of the Tuscan kitchen.
You glanced over at your two adopted sons, then back down at the stove.
“I’m ordering pizza for dinner. I don’t feel like cooking right now,” you mumbled. “Sorry.”
“We didn’t come in here to ask you about dinner,” Megumi replied.
“We wanted to know if you were okay,” Yuji frowned worriedly.
“I’m alright.” Your sponge started to bend and tear as you scrubbed the spotless stove. Your reddened waterline was brimming with hot tears.
“You should stop cleaning,” Yuji took a step forward. Cautiously, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from scrubbing. “Get some rest, mom.”
Sadly, you laughed. Though it was more of a small broken cry. Shaking your head, you said, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Yuji asked, his sad eyes staring into yours.
“It’s not really something I should discuss with my two teenage boys, okay?”
“Let me guess,” Megumi paused. “Resting would mean going upstairs, and that’s where Satoru is, and you’re trying to avoid him because you’re still mad at him, right?”
“Wrong,” you frowned at Megumi, and Yuji released your wrist, but he also took the sponge out of your grasp. “I’m avoiding him because I know I made him cry, and I can’t believe . . . I was cruel enough to do something like that. But like I said, it’s not something for the two of you to worry about.”
Your words simply went through one ear and out the other, because suddenly, Yuji was once again grabbing your wrist.
Ignoring your protests, he practically dragged you upstairs.
Locating Satoru was rather easy thanks to the sound of childlike laughter coming from Maya and muffled cartoony noises coming from Satoru, which could be heard from the hallway.
Stepping into Maya’s room where she and Satoru were sitting on the floor, playing with her toys, Yuji said, “Sorry to interrupt.”
Satoru’s eyes darted between you, Yuji, and Yuji’s loose grip on your wrist.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“You two need to talk,” Yuji looked back at you, and then glanced at Satoru. “Please talk. I know I don’t understand what marriage is like, and maybe I should just mind my own business, I don’t know, but . . . you’re both hurting each other right now and I think you should work it out.”
Yuji let go of your wrist. He walked toward his sister, leaned down, picked her up, and carried her out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
“Don’t come out until you’ve both made up!” Yuji shouted.
Footsteps echoed through the home as he made his way downstairs with Maya.
Satoru rose to his feet, picking up Maya’s toys and carrying them to her purple toy bin and putting them away silently.
What an awkward silence it was — the two of you, standing in the middle of your daughter’s room, unsure of what to say to one another.
After all, arguments were incredibly rare. And this was the first time it had ever occurred with your children around.
“If you aren’t ready to talk yet, that’s fine.” Satoru broke the silence with his soft spoken words, unable to look into your eyes. “We can put on a good face in front of the kids and tonight . . . I can sleep downstairs in the guest room-”
“No, absolutely not,” you interrupted with a frown.“I’d never kick you out of our bed, Satoru.”
Satoru sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you paused hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I did. I was just worried when you didn’t come home on time. It’s a dangerous world and you’re always right in the center of it, fighting. The thought of something bad happening to you kills me because I love you and I need you. But that isn’t an excuse to make you feel like you’re a bad husband and a bad father because that isn’t true at all. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” You tried to look into his eyes, but he still wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Please look at me.”
It took a moment, but eventually, Satoru’s glassy eyes stared into yours. The overwhelming sadness that was visible within them broke your heart.
“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you said once again, and as sincerely as you could.
Satoru was silent. Much like Maya did to him earlier, he tilted his head slightly, thinking.
“I forgive you.” He stepped forward, and gently, he hugged you. “And I’m sorry I worried you. I know you have a lot on your shoulders. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
A small sigh of relief fell from between your lips when you felt your husband’s arms around your body.
“Hey,” pulling away from the hug, Satoru smiled down at you. “Let’s go out for dinner, just you and me. We can go to that restaurant you like.”
“What about the kids?”
“They’ll be fine, baby. Pizza’s being delivered here and they know how to take care of Maya and themselves. They’ll be fine if we’re gone for a couple of hours.” Satoru grabbed your hand. “Do you wanna go?”
Happily, you nodded, and the smile that graced Satoru’s face was absolutely beautiful.
And, when you both shared with your children that you were going out for dinner together, their own victorious smiles were just as sweet.
operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru
synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.
contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably
notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P
The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.
Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.
“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.
“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.
“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”
“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”
You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”
“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”
You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”
He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”
“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”
He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”
You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.
His glasses are tilted again. Of course.
You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”
“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”
You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”
“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look.
“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”
You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”
It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.
He doesn’t say anything.
You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.
But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.
Another type. That’s not you.
“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”
He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”
“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”
He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that a thing?”
“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”
He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”
You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.
You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.
But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.
So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”
He goes still.
His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.
“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”
His jaw tightens.
You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering.”
He finally turns to look at you.
His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.
You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.
Then he shrugs.
“…Nah.”
It slices through the air with quiet finality.
Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.
You laugh. It sounds forced.
“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”
He’s silent.
You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”
“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”
Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.
“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.
And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue.
You knew it was time. Twenty years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.
It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.
You’d been doomed since day one.
And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.
But you were young and hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”
You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.
“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”
“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”
You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”
“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”
You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”
Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.
Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”
You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”
Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”
You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”
She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”
You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”
Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”
You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”
Utahime grinned.
“Whatcha doing?”
Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.
You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”
The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.
He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”
You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.
“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.
You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”
His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring poet and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”
“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”
“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”
Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.
“Satoru!”
“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just optimizing.”
Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”
“Nothing~”
You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.
“Give it back!”
“Patience.”
“Gojo Satoru—”
“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.
You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.
“…What did you do?”
“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”
You narrow your eyes, suspicious.
“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”
“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”
“Good.”
The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.
You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”
He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”
You snort. “You are a guy.”
“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”
You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”
“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.
You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.
“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”
Silence.
It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.
Gojo freezes.
You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”
But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”
You blink.
And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.
“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”
You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.
You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.
Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.
You want to scream.
Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?
Yeah. Not going great.
Not at all.
You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.
Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes, so determined and hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she would help you find true love. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.
“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”
You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.
But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked beautiful.
When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing your hair. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.
He didn’t notice you at first.
Then he looked up.
His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.
“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”
You blinked. “Hi to you too.”
He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.
He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”
You blinked.
Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.
And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.
You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”
“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”
Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.
But the moment passed.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”
Different.
Not better. Not prettier.
Just different.
You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”
“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.
“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.
In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines.
What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.
He didn’t even notice.
“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.
He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”
Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”
Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”
It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.
Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”
Exactly. That was the point.
You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.
“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”
Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—
Satoru.
In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.
You blink. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”
“At this café? On this side of campus?”
“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”
Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”
“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”
“…Kazuya.”
“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”
You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”
But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”
Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”
“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”
Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”
“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”
Gojo beams. “Told you.”
Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.
“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”
“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”
You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”
Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”
“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”
Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”
You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.
“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”
“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.
“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.
By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.
Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,
“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”
The question hangs awkwardly.
You and Satoru answer at the same time.
“No,” you say quickly.
“Yes,” he says with a smile.
You both turn to stare at each other.
“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”
Kazuya blinks. “Right.”
You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.
“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.
Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”
You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.
Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.
Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.
He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.
You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”
“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”
“By who?”
“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.
You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.
“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”
You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.
“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.
“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.
You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”
He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”
You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.
You don’t answer.
You don’t have to.
Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel bearable.
Almost good, even.
Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did. Maybe it all meant something.
You let yourself believe it, just a little.
And that was your first mistake.
It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.
You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says far too casually:
“So, guess who asked me out?”
You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”
“Ayane.”
The name hits you like a slap.
You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”
“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”
You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.
She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.
But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.
“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too. I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”
You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”
“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins.
Your stomach sinks.
This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.
But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.
“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.
Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.
It’s that he chose her.
Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him, when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.
You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.
He doesn’t follow.
You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.
For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.
You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”
You go silent.
And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.
You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.
It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.
And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.
You weren’t just losing your best friend.
You were losing the love of your life.
And he didn’t even notice.
It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.
Well—no. That’s a lie.
He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”
But he tells himself you’re busy.
Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.
So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.
But then Friday comes.
And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—
You’d be making fun of me right now.
You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be you.
Ayane is lovely.
But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.
She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.
He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.
Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.
And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.
He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.
No new messages.
Just the last one you sent days ago:
“Laundry. Rain check?”
And nothing since.
He waits. Another day. Then two.
You don’t show up to class again.
You don’t like his latest meme.
You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.
You are silent.
And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.
That he didn’t just lose a study partner.
He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.
The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.
And for the first time since he was a kid—
He’s afraid.
It’s been a little over a week.
A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.
And Satoru is suffering.
He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.
But you were always one step ahead.
You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a you really fumbled the bag look in her eyes.
Gojo Satoru is just tired.
Miserable.
So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.
You don’t look surprised to see him. Just tired too.
“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.
He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”
You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”
Gojo looks down at his feet.
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.
Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”
You glance up.
“I can’t either.”
Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment— God, I thought I was going to—”
“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
The words stop him cold.
“What?” he breathes.
You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”
His heart stutters. You don’t stop.
“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”
He opens his mouth. Closes it.
You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”
He looks like he’s been hit.
“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”
You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.
And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.
Not yet.
Not until he stops you from walking away.
“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.
“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”
Your breath catches.
He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.
“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”
You gape.
“Wait—”
“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”
You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.
“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”
You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”
“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”
He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.
“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”
A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.
“You idiot,” you murmur.
“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”
Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.
“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
You stare at him, this man, this brilliant, ridiculous boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.
“It’s not too late,” you whisper.
He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.
Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.
“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.
And then, finally, he kisses you.
It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home..
When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”
OMG I WAS JUST HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT GOJO AND Y/N IN THEIR TEEN YEARS AND
imagine that back then they had to participate in a talent show or something and megumi and the rest watch the old video tape they found in the darkest corner of the library on campus.
the tape was in a box with a label reading "the best jujutsu tech students' and its just filled with memories of their teen years.
they decide to watch the talent show one and its just chaotic as hell. mid way through megumi, nobara and yuuji get caught watching it lmao
𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴
A/N: this request. came in last night - and it’s all I’ve done today because it was so perfect it’s all I could think about. ur amazing ily
CW: swearing, weed, suggestive stuff, mdni i stg shoo
“Itadori! Bring these to the garbage!” Nobara shouts.
“Why me?! Why can’t you do it?!” He retorts as Megumi just rolls his eyes at the two of them, he wonders how they turned into siblings so easily.
“Fushiguro! Tell your boyfriend to take this to the garbage. It’s heavy and he should use his freaky wall-breaking strength for something useful!” She shouts back.
“Eh?! Is exorcising cursed and carrying you like a sack of flour not useful?! Or always carrying all your dumb shopping?!” They’ve broken into an all out sibling squabble by now, Megumi just turns away and continues the task of clearing out the storeroom behind the dojo in the school. Pushing boxes of old files and reports out of the way, he finds a box covered in doodles and stickers, taped shut at the top. He goes to inspect the very out of place container and finds words among the doodles of weirdly shaped beings and flowers.
‘The Best Jujutsu Tech Students.’
“Will you two shut up for two minutes, come look at this.” He says over his shoulder to the two, with Nobara releasing Yuuji from the headlock she somehow got him in.
“Ancient treasure! I told you we’d find something cool.” Yuuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.
“What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean?! We’re clearing out a high school storage room, dumbass.” The girls rolls her eyes.
They inspect the box, trying to figure out the doodles.
“It doesn’t look super old? Open it, Itadori.” Nobara says.
“Will you quit telling me what to do?!” He says, huffing.
While they resumed the bickering, Megumi took a knife he had hidden in the shadows and sliced through the lines of tape holding the box together. The sound alerted the other two who peered into the box alongside him.
“Wait, are they… DVD’s?” Megumi asks.
“Yeah - but they’re homemade ones. Is there a label on them?” His boyfriend says, leaning in to get a closer looks.
The box itself was filled with small DVD cases of many colours - all labelled in a scrawling handwriting the kids felt like they knew.
“There’s a DVD player in the room where I hung out when I was dead.” Yuuji says, and hauls the box up and begins to walk. None of them even needed to discuss whether or not they’d be watching them, like a hive mind - but with maybe two shared brain cells.
They all made their way across campus, to a room in the same building as their Sensei’s office.
Nobara insisted on grabbing snacks from the vending machine en route, and they sat down on the sofa while Yuuji loaded the first date labelled ‘2003, December.” Well, that’s what they think it’s said. The handwriting was such a chicken scratch it almost looked like a doctor’s unintelligible writing.
The screen came to life - sounds buzzing and voices echoing (albeit muffled) as the screen panned from looking at the floor - to the sky, the the floor again. Then - a face came on screen.
A very familiar one - but… a hell of a lot younger.
“Wait… is that -?” Nobara asks.
“Shoko-sensei?!” Yuuji exclaims.
“That’s kinda how she looked when I was a kid. She’s in her uniform, so this must be when she was in school.” Megumi adds.
The camera pulls away from the close up on her face as another figure enters the shot - a man with odd bangs, silky black hair tied up into a bun and piercing dark eyes. He had a lazy smile in his face as he looked into the camera, poking a finger into Shoko’s cheek.
“What the fuck, Suguru?!” She says as she flicks his hand away.
“That’s - that’s Geto Suguru.” Megumi says. Geto had always been a bittersweet topic in their house, only getting worse in the last year and a half since… since he died.
The next action causes a gasp to echo across the room. A smiling face pops up between both figures.
Dark, circular sunglasses perched on a slim, pale nose and a wide, toothy, cheeky smile sat under a mop of shocking white, messy hair.
“Holy shit! That’s -” Yuuji starts.
“Dad.” Megumi whispers, seeing Satoru so young, probably around his age was amazing to him.
“Wow! It’s working! Is it on? Is it filming?” 16 year old Gojo says, voice eerily familiar, but much younger.
The three faces were all staring into the lens of the camera, only visible from the shoulders up. On screen, Shoko looked down and moved her arm and another head popped up from the bottom of the screen, trying to squeeze in.
The head of H/C hair and shiny eyes wiggled their way into the shot between Suguru and Shoko, and under Satoru.
“Did you say it’s on? It on recording right now?” The new figure pokes the camera.
“No fucking way… Fushiguro! That’s -” Nobara says, swirling to look at the taller boy.
“My mom.” He says, eyes fixed on screen. Your face was younger, hair the same as ever, eyes still full of excitement and curiosity and voice slightly higher than it is now. A hand pats the top of your head, a pale one - Satoru.
“Do a dance for the camera, Y/N.” Satoru says, smiling.
And you do a little wiggle in your spot squeezed between everyone as the other three burst out laughing.
The camera cuts off, and the screen changes to a view of the outside - all of them immediately recognising the training field.
In view is Geto and Gojo, sparring at such a ridiculously quick speed it’s barely visible. He could hear giggling behind the screen and recognised the voices of you and Shoko laughing about something that happened in class.
“They’re such show offs.” Your voice says.
“Geto genuinely wants to train, Gojo is just trying to impress you.” Shoko says, voice muffled by something - which he later sees as a lollipop, figuring it out when it gets launched across the field - presumably in retaliation for her comment by you.
“No way, Koko! That’s just dumb, he’s just a show off in general.” Your voice echoes.
“Whatever you say, Y/N.”
The camera cuts off again. The next thing they see is the night sky, and raucous laughter. The camera is being held by Shoko again, and she points it to a view of a rooftop - the flat part of the roof of the dorm building. The camera turns to one Suguru Geto, eyes hazy and smile even more languid than normal. In his hand was a smoking object - which he passed to Shoko.
They were both laughing together about Shoko saying she could see a constellation shaped like a penis, and the hysterical giggles and she rested her head on the boys shoulder told them that the joint in Shoko’s hand was very much affecting them.
There were clambering sounds.
“I can’t reach!” Came your voice, distant and off screen.
“C’mere shortstack, I’ll give you a boost.” The teasing lilt of Gojo’s voice came after.
“Thanks, Jack the Beanstalk.” Your retort sent the two original stars into another round of laughter before you and Gojo enter the frame, both holding a plastic bag of snacks.
Shoko gives you the joint as you sit, and you take a quick puff and pass it back to Suguru. Satoru declines it, saying it makes his eyes feel funny to which you all nod and say ‘makes sense’.
“Did you get me spicy chips?” Suguru asks, combing through the bags.
“Yes. But - you had to tell me you love me to get them.” Satoru says, smirking.
“Gojo Satoru - you are the light of my life, the centre of my world, the reason my heart beats, please, May I have my child you absolute fuckwad.” He says, as Satoru throws his head back laughing and throws a red bag of chips at him before tackling him to the ground demanding a kiss.
You laugh at the scene, turning to Shoko.
“See - that’s how Geto has at least one date every weekend.” You say, opening your chocolate.
“Man-whore.” She responds, sucking on a lollipop.
The screen flashes black. The same view is on the screen, but the atmosphere is much calmer. Suguru lay, head on Shoko’s lap and her deft fingers carding through his hair as he listens to whatever nonsense Gojo is spouting. The camera turns to a view that has Nobara and Yuuji cooing. Satoru is sitting, arm around your back to keep you upright with your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and clearly sleeping.
Suguru’s voice whispers into the camera.
“And these two say they’re not into each other.” Followed by a scoff from Shoko.
Next up is a view of the training field again, with a sight that made the three current first years laugh. Suguru was laying on the grass, and he was bench pressing you - his makeshift weight - as you lay relaxed horizontally reading a book, the casual nature made it clear this was a daily occurrence.
Once his reps are finished, he gently lets you down and you don’t even react, just laying on the grass continuing your book. He stands up and waves to Shoko, who he’s just noticed with her camera and proceeds to take off his shirt and let down his hair.
“Put your damn shirt back on!” Shoko shouts.
“God damn, maybe I should be a curse user.” Nobara utters, whistling and fanning herself.
The camera is next held up by Satoru - who smiles and puts a finger to his lips to symbolise silence, for some reason, like the camera would be unexpectedly loud. He turns the camera and in the backseat of a car is Shoko and you, both asleep and earphones split between you with a bright pink iPod on Shoko’s lap. Her head was resting in the crook of your neck, and you cheek rested on top of your head.
“They really have always been best friends, haven’t they?” Yuuji says. Megumi is reminded of last week, when Nobara and Yuuji fell asleep in the back of Ijichi’s car, in the exact same position.
The camera operator is back to Shoko now, who is filming the most beautiful scenery. Sakura petals are drifting through the air as throngs of people wander around what appears to be a festival. There’s food stalls and trinket stands and everyone around is in their finery.
“Suguru! Show the camera your best pose.” Shoko says, as Suguru appears on screen decked out in a black and grey kimono with his hair in a half up, half down style.
He throws a peace sign at the camera and then takes it so he can film Shoko who’s in a pretty red Yukata pattered with black and white koi. She smiles and then waves as she looks off camera.
“You’re late, Satoru. Where’s Y/N?” She says as Gojo comes on screen.
He’s wearing a dark blue and silver hakama which looks like it cost the same as a house, Suguru wolf whistles and Satoru pretends to fawn over him.
“She was having lunch with her mom, she’s probably going to be here - holy shit.” Satoru says, but cuts himself off halfway as his jaw drops open.
The camera pans messily as Suguru turns to where Satoru is looking.
You’re walking toward them, smile on your face and usually messy hair styled in a beautiful updo, make up making your skin glow in the afternoon sun. You were wearing a light pink, billowy, gauzy hanfu with tiny pale green flowers and leaves around the edges. You did truly look incredibly stunning. You had a little bag in your hand, and the camera flew back to look at Satoru who was gaping at your approaching figure. His usually pale skin flushed with a pink dusting.
His mouth moves, and it seems unconscious when he whispers to himself.
“Beautiful…”
You walk into the frame, smiling brightly and hugging Shoko and then freezing when you see Satoru, eyes widening at the strikingly handsome figure he makes, every inch a fairytale Prince. The pink on your cheek matches your outfit as you stammer out a breathy,
“Hi, Satoru.”
“Hey, Y/N.” He says, mouthing opening and closing as you look at him through fluttering lashes.
There’s a jolt as it seems Suguru holding the camera elbows his best friend and whispers in his ear, just audible to the camera.
“Bro, tell her she looks beautiful, damn it.”
“You… you look um - beautiful, Y/N.” He stammers out, and the three first years watching laugh at how their oh-so-smooth sensei was once such a mess he needed prompting to flirt from his friends.
You flush even deeper.
“Thank you, Satoru. You look really good too. The um… the blue really suits you. The restaurant I had lunch with my mom had Sakura mochi, so I - I got you some.” You say as you shove a small nicely wrapped box at him and Satoru seems to melt. Shoko appears on screen, making a circle with one hand and poking a finger through it repeatedly in a very lewd gesture that has Suguru cackling.
“Wait - they’re not even together yet. They didn’t get together until the end of their second year.” Megumi muses, smirking.
“So they’ve always been this whipped for each other.” Nobara laughs.
The DVD ends there, and Yuuji jumps up to put in the next one, labelled ‘second year’.
The video begins with you sprinting toward Shoko and her catching you in her arms.
“I missed you so much! A whole summer without you, it was torture. How was the medical camp?” You ask her, barely taking a breath between words.
“Did you not miss me, lil’ lady?” Came a smooth voice as one Geto Suguru wraps his arms around you too, and you squeal in excitement. The three standing are then abruptly tackled to the ground as a blur of white and black whizzes toward them.
“Satoru!” Came three scolding voices.
“How the fuck did you do that, you lanky - oh.” Shoko is stopped abruptly as they all stand up and the change in Satoru is clearly visible. Long gone is the beanstalk boy of their first year, all arms and legs at 16 and now at almost 18 - a broad shouldered, 6ft 3, sharper jawline and longer hair Gojo stands before them. You look like you might faint.
The video stops and then resumes looking at a very familiar blackboard, and a much younger Yaga beside it.
In front of the blackboard there’s two students in Jujutsu High uniforms - both in party hats and standing under a banners with ‘Welcome First Years!’ written in big bubble writing on it, the sounds of streamers and party poppers came through the room as the camera was set down on a desk.
Gojo comes on screen and waves his arms as if to show off the two students. One looked incredibly happy, a beaming smile full of excitement and the other looking absolutely miserable, but given how painfully 2005 emo he looked - it wasn’t surprising. Megumi smirked, seeing the blond boy on screen and knowing exactly who it was from photo albums you kept - but he waited to see when the other two would notice.
“Welcome to Yu Haibara! Please - introduce yourself!” Gojo says, pointing a bottle of cola at him like a microphone.
“Hi! I’m Yu! I’m 16 and I like rice and people!” He says, voice full of enthusiasm.
“Thank you! Next up, Gerard Way!” Satoru smiles and point the mock microphone to the other boy.
“Do I have to? This feels unnecessary.” He says, grimacing.
“Yes! You do!”
“Fine. My name is Nanami Kento -”
Megumi didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a chorus of ‘What the fuck!?’ Echoes from the two beside him.
“Nobara, rewind that - I think I heard it wrong, I thought the emo kid said his name was Nanami, hah!” Yuuji exclaims.
“No need. You heard right.” Megumi smirks.
“No fucking way! That’s Nanamin?!” Yuuji is smiling so wide at the sight of his mentor as a moody teen.
“Yup. I remember his hair like that, he had a lip ring and a nose ring too. Geto Suguru pierced his nose with Shoko’s med kit for him when they drank too much whiskey at my mom’s 18th. There’s a picture of them doing it framed in their room at home.” Megumi scoffs a laugh, the other two in shock at the revelation.
The camera stops again and next time is looking from an upstairs window as voices whisper.
“What is she doing?” Shoko asks.
“It looks like she’s talking?” Geto asks.
“There’s a tiny spike in her cursed energy - wait, I’ll try see if there’s someone around.” He says and the clink of his sunglasses hitting the windowsill breaks the quiet.
On screen, there’s you in a pair of fluffy blue pyjamas and a winter knitted hat as you seem to be kneeling and ushering something small out of a bush. Satoru seems to have gotten distracted and the camera pans to him - who’s just staring out the window with the most dopey, lovestruck smile on his face.
“Satoru.” Suguru says, flicking his ear.
He snarls, but blushes.
“I - I can’t tell but, it kinda seems like? She is trying to talk to something.” He says, as they all crane their necks as you pull something into your arms and stand up, taking off your hat and tucking whatever you found into it and scurrying back inside.
An obnoxious ringtone of crazy frog blasts through the room and Satoru flips open his phone and answers it.
Since it’s you, he puts it on speaker.
“Hey, Satoru - are you still at the store? I - kinda need something, urgently.” Your voice asks.
“Eh - yeah, I’m at the store. What do you need?” He says, trying to hush the two sniggering traitors beside him who are fully aware that he came back from the store an hour ago and is sitting in Suguru’s dorm with them.
“I - um, I need kitten milk.” Your voice says, just as the camera cuts off.
The next few videos are just videos on videos on you and a tiny, tiny kitten, feeding it from a small bottle and it sleeping on your chest, or Satoru playing with it and a ball of wool in hysterical laughter. One video is taken by Shoko with Suguru in the frame playing with the kitten who is trying to catch his bangs and on the sofa, is you sitting on Satoru’s lap, as he looks at you adoringly and you giggle and place a kiss on his lips. Given that it’s about 3/4 of the way through your second year, it means you’re freshly together after torturing your friends with mutual pining.
Megumi looks closer at the kitten, and the tabby is very recognisable to him - given that to this day, the hairs of that kitten, now 13 years old and still thriving due to your unwavering spoiling, still decorate any black fabric in your home.
“Is that baby grumpy George?!” Nobara asks, hitting the nail on the head.
The video fades again, and then the screen is illuminated by a makeshift stage in the school sports hall. Another large banner is on the wall, with ‘Talent Show’ written in large writing, Megumi now noticed the big bubble writing was the same as had been on every ‘happy birthday’ banner he’d had every year.
The announcer, he recognises as a smiling principal Yaga - even though this is surely not a school organised or endorsed event, but probably the work of the couple he now calls his parents.
“Welcome to Jujutsu Talent Show! The rules of tonight are as follows a) no cursed techniques or cursed energy and absolutely no sabotaging! Panda! Do you want to say who’s going first?” Yaga announced as he lifts up a baby panda and the voice of the baby says “Nanami and Yu!”.
Yu skips on stage, decked out in a cape patterned with stars and a large top hat, followed by a very sullen Nanami Kento, adorned with a nose and lip ring now.
“Ladies, gentlemen, cursed corpses! My name is Yu the Magic Man and this is my assistant, the Fantastical Nanamin! Does anyone here like rabbits?” He announced, and takes off his hat, revealing a stuffed rabbit on his head - commencing the world’s worst magic show. The highlight was definitely Yu asking Nanami to pull the scarf from his sleeve and after pulling and pulling and pulling, a very frustrated Kento growls ‘Fucking hell, Yu - how long is this thing?’ Completely breaking what little mysticism surrounded the performance. Geto didn’t help, when he muttered ‘that’s what she said’ after Nanami’s complaint, setting the second years off.
After a bow to his rapt audience, and lots of cheering and supportive clapping from you all - the first years leave and Yaga announces the next performance.
A loud bang echoes through the room,
“Holy shit!” Your voice, the 28 year old you, carries through the room as three heads spin around to see their sensei’s back, arms supporting the thighs around his waist, belonging to his wife who’s lipstick is smudged across her cheek and her husband’s face. The white haired man’s white shirt was partially unbuttoned and your sweater had fallen completely off you shoulder - combined with the position you entered the room and the ruined cosmetics it was quite clear why the teachers had stumbled into this forgotten room of jujutsu tech.
“Get a fucking room.” Megumi grumbles.
“We were! But you’re here! And just for that I’m gonna tell you that the sofa you’re sitting on was where Akio was conceived.” Gojo retorts, trying to fix himself as all the kids groan.
“Both of you, hush. ‘Toru - look at the screen.” You were transfixed on the paused screen.
“Wait! Is that - that’s our talent show! From second year! Where did you guys find this?” Satoru says, leaping over the back of the sofa and plopping down but not before turning around and picking you up by the waist and sitting you in his lap.
“I thought all the DVD’s were lost! Koko couldn’t find them after we graduated!” You say, as you keep staring at the screen.
“We were clearing out the storage room, like Ijichi asked and we found a funky box with DVD’s in it.” Yuuji says.
“Oh my god! Press play!” You say, clapping.
“Look at angry Nanamin!” Gojo says, smiling.
“Next up is Y/N and Shoko!” Screen Yaga announces.
You and Shoko are dressed in the most colourful outfits ever, you’re beaming and Shoko looks exhausted. Large headbands, crimped hair, tutu skirts, leggings, neon leg warmers and beads were the costume of choice as Geto stood on one side of the stage.
“Welcome to - Y/N and Shoko’s dance bonanza!” You both say, and Geto presses play so that Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun plays to match the 80s Cyndi Lauper style outfits. Having danced ballet as a little girl, and being a big fan of Just Dance and Dance Dance Revolution - you decided that you and Shoko would do this for the show, exhausted and unenthusiastic - but endlessly loyal to her best friend and determined to not let Gojo win the show. You guys danced a perfectly in sync routine with 28 year old you shouting ‘Oh my god, I still remember the routine!’ Halfway through. Yuuji was hopping along on the sofa beside Megumi.
Before Shoko could collapse into a heap as the song finished, she was thrown over Suguru’s shoulder and hauled off stage with Gojo doing the same for you.
After a brief intermission, Geto and Gojo were welcomed on stage in matching black tuxedo’s, off camera your voice could be heard saying ‘ugh, I’m gonna climb that man like a tree later, suits are the best.’
“Ladies, gents - tonight welcome to The GS squared stand up comedy show, enjoy your night and Geto’s number is available after the show.” Gojo drawls into the mic.
Megumi didn’t expect the routine to be as funny as it was, everyone especially enjoyed the part where they did impressions of different Jujutsu Elders, including Naobito Zen’in and Principal Gakuganji - which were unnervingly accurate but highly offensive to them, especially when Gojo got on his knees to imitate how short the elder Kyoto principal was and Geto kept playing Looney Tunes on the projector to show Naobito’s ‘cursed technique’.
When the audience were thoroughly hysterically laughing, with the audience being Yaga, MeiMei, Panda, Y/N, Shoko, Yu, Kento and Utahime who was visiting Shoko for the weekend, the boys bowed, winked and walked off stage and the camera caught Gojo bending down to whisper something in his ear which had you looking at the sky and blushing - still getting used to openly loving each other.
The voting wasn’t recorded, but the winners announcement was and it was shown to be Yu and Nanami - who everyone, except for themselves had voted for.
“Oh my god, these are priceless! I can’t believe I got even funnier with age, and look at your cute little outfit, princess!” Satoru coos.
“There’s a whole box of them, we’ve only watched 2!” Yuuji says, bouncing and handing the box to you and Satoru.
“No way, it’s the whole box! I remember decorating it with Koko! Hold on, I’m gonna ring her to come here.” You say as you take out your phone, smiling at the lockscreen of Satoru, Megumi and your 6 month old son and pulling up Shoko’s contact to ring her to ‘get her ass down here for a surprise’.
“Oh, ‘toru! I bet our DVD of our trip together to Fiji in the summer of third year, Shoko lent us her came for it!” You say, wrapping your arms around him and settling in while Yuuji loads the next DVD.
“Classes are cancelled, I’ve decided it’s home movie day - do we have any popcorn?” Satoru says, smiling at how fondly Megumi is looking at the screen, a still pause screen of himself and you smiling in the training yard together - still looking as lovingly at each other 13 years later. Yuuji has his arm wrapped and Megumi’s shoulders and is leaning into him, as the dark haired boy rubs circles on his boyfriend’s knee - Nobara has her legs stretched across the laps of both boys as the newest video begins.
The door swings open, Shoko entering -
“No fucking way! You found them! Kids, move up - let Aunty Koko sit.” She says, plopping herself between the arm and her two best friends, her nephew and their bonus kids.
She’s glad she bought that camera.
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