꩜⋆. ─ tags : fluff - married au - implied fem!reader - ushijima being ushjjima with his wikipedia knowledge - sick reader
w/c ꩜⋆. ─ 𝟎.𝟕𝐤
𝓶 𝓪 𝓼 𝓽 𝓮 𝓻 𝓵 𝓲 𝓼 𝓽 !
underneath a heavy layer of blankets, you let out a miserable groan. your throat felt like it had been scratched with sandpaper, and your head was pounding.
your sinuses felt as if they were clogged, so you coughed reflexively. beside you, wakatoshi shifted out of his sleep. his eyes snapped open and he focused on your face while you were mid sniffle.
“do you still feel under the weather?” his groggy voice erupts from the silence of the bedroom. you’ve been feeling like this since last night, so he slept lightly in case anything happened. you nod in response and clear your throat.
he took a breath through his nose and lifted himself up from bed. wakatoshi swung his legs over the edge and easily slipped into his slippers, making his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
you raised the blankets over your face, a comfortable yet agonizing heat raising in your body.
a few minutes pass and you hear slippers sliding across the wooden boarded floor. a tug at the blankets at they were off, exposing you to the cold air that you tried so desperately to hide from. “you must take these off.” wakatoshi murmured. “it is not beneficial to your fever.”
you whine, clearly annoyed. “mmn. toshiii…”
with his free hand, he set a tray down on the nightstand and helped you prop yourself up against the pillows. you wince at the movement. on the tray, steam rose from a mug of hot water steeped with sliced ginger and a hint of honey. sitting next to that was a small bowl of plain rice porridge and a freshly opened cooling gel patch.
“your temperature has clearly risen since we checked it at three in the morning.” wakatoshi states obviously. his large hand cupped the side of your face, palm cool against your burning cheek. “the heavy blankets trap heat inside and will make it worse. i will allow you a light sheet once we get your fever down.”
you sigh, watching him pick up the mug. he tested the heat against his own wrist before he held it out to you. “drink this.”
you wrap your hands around the ceramic cup you made last year during one of your dates. his right hand cupped under your knuckles and he guided the mug to your lips. “i will help you.”
as you drank, the ginger and honey burned against your raw throat. you managed a few swallows before pulling back with a soft sigh. he set the mug down on the tray and picked up the cooling patch.
“this will be cold.” he warns.
“i don’t want it.” you muttered, dodging as he lifted it towards you.
“it will constrict your blood vessels and alleviate the pressure you feel in your sinuses.” he didn’t wait for you to protest any further. the athlete pressed the gel patch onto your forehead.
a sharp gasp left your lips at the shock of the ice, and you immediately reached up to tear it off. but wakatoshi caught your wrist mid-air, holding it gently but firmly away from the pack.
“leave it,” he mumbled. “count to ten. if it still feels unbearable afterwards, then i will remove it.”
you stared at him, attempting to shoot a glare his way but it had no visual affect. by the time you reached five, the uncomfortable sensation started to fizzle away. by eight, the pressure in your head felt lighter but only slightly.
“there you go.” he watched your shoulders loosen and he let your hands rest at your lap.
you groan and roll your eyes. “doesn’t make it any more comfortable.” you say. there was never a time where you were the best of moods while you were sick, but ushijima wakatoshi could handle your stubbornness like it was routine for him.
“but it does make you feel better.” he nods. “and that is what is important, right?”
you don’t answer, knowing he’s one hundred percent right. “why do you go this far for stuff like this?” you ask him.
wakatoshi gives you a look. one that’s unreadable and not common. it’s a softer, gentler expression that makes him seem less like a nonchalant machine.
“well, for one ; i love you. two ; you are my wife. and three ; i vowed to take care of you, in sickness and in health.”
what a romantic. you sigh dreamily, all of the stubborness and unwillingness to let him help you washed away by a simple few sentences. “man, i so wanna kiss you right now.”
wakatoshi blinked. “exchanging saliva would likely result in my own infection and there can’t be two of us.”
you cough before you smile and let out a cracked giggle. “then let’s give it a few more days.”
wakatoshi tries to court his libero with the romance skills of an instruction manual, and somehow it works
part one here
wc: 2.1k, request
if a giant, left-handed railgun disguised as a high school boy can be reduced to a puddle of lukewarm miso soup by a single oblivious libero, the universe is broken.
the misunderstanding was currently sitting on a velvet couch in the ushijima household, eating a piece of sliced mango with a tiny wooden fork.
you were just happy to be included. truly. in your mind, this was peak platonic behavior. sure, most boys didn’t invite their “girl-friends” over to their massive, traditional ancestral homes just to sit in front of their very elegant, very intimidating mothers, but ushijimawas different. he was straightforward. he liked efficiency. if he wanted his best female friend to meet his mom, why should he wait?
“she doesn’t let the ball drop,” ushijima stated, his voice booming in the quiet tatami room like a sacred temple gong. he’s sitting perfectly straight, staring at his mother with an expression that could only be described as aggressively proud. “her platform is the most stable i have seen in the miyagi prefecture high school girls’ division. her center of gravity is remarkable.”
mrs. ushijima sat across from you, pouring barley tea with the grace of a woman who had never accidentally stubbed her toe in her entire life. she looked up, her sharp eyes scanning your face, then landing on her son.
“i see,” she murmured. then, a very tiny, very elegant smile touched her lips. “you chose well, wakatoshi. she has excellent posture.”
“thank you,” ushijima said, nodding once, looking immensely pleased with himself. “she’s my girlfriend.”
you, currently chewing on a piece of pear, just beamed and nodded along. yes! friend who is a girl! that’s me! you even gave his mom a little thumbs-up. “he’s really nice to me at school, mrs. ushijima! he let me use his personal muscle roller yesterday. it’s very heavy, but he carried it across campus for me.”
mrs. ushijima’s smile widened by approximately two millimeters—a monumental shift. “he’s a boy of few words, but he’s dedicated. please take care of him. he can be… single-minded.”
“oh, i know!” you laughed, completely missing the heavy, deliberate weight behind her words. “at practice, he just stares at me until i take a water break. it’s like having a giant guard dog.”
ushijima’s eyes softened so much they looked like melting chocolate. his hand came down on your knee—not a casual tap, but a heavy, warm weight that felt like an anchor anchoring you to the earth. “you require hydration to maintain your response time. i’m only monitoring your safety.”
your heart did a weird, violent salsa dance against your ribs. wow, you thought, he’s such a caring friend. boys’ volleyball captains are so intense.
the real test came twenty minutes later when ushijima’s phone began to buzz with a video call notification. he slid the screen open, revealing the face of his father, takashi utsui, sitting in what looked like an apartment in california.
“wakatoshi!” his dad grinned, the background behind him bright with american sunlight. “how’s the training going? are you hitting the cross-shots like we talked about?”
“the training is optimal, father,” wakatoshi replied, holding the phone out at an angle that gave his dad a magnificent view of the ceiling and half of his own forehead. “however, that isn’t why i’m calling. i need you to see her.”
he aggressively pivoted the phone toward your face. you suddenly found yourself staring into a screen, your eyes wide like a deer caught in high-beam headlights.
“hello!” you chirped, waving a hand.
his dad blinked, leaning closer to his camera. “oh! oh, wow! wakatoshi, is this—?”
“this is my girlfriend,” ushijima declared to the entire state of california. “she plays as a libero. her lateral movement is exceptional. during our last scrimmage, she defended three consecutive spikes from my opposite angle without losing her balance.”
takashi’s face erupted into a massive, delighted grin. “no way! a libero? you pulled a defensive specialist? man, i always knew you had good taste, but this is legendary! hey there, kiddo! how do his serves taste? they’re heavy, right?”
“they feel like a bowling ball falling from the second floor, sir!” you replied honestly, leaning into the frame. “but if i angle my wrists just right, they pop right back up to the ceiling!”
“she’s magnificent,” ushijima added, his voice dropping into a register so thick with reverence it belonged in a cathedral. he was looking at you through the screen, even though you were sitting right next to him. his gaze was a physical weight, warm and utterly unblinking. “i have no intention of letting anyone else have her.”
you blushed, your cheeks feeling like they have a built in heater. jeez, he really takes this friendship loyalty seriously. sport bonds are crazy.
“hey, treat her right, you hear me?” takashi laughed, shaking his fist playfully at the camera. “don’t just talk to her about air resistance and muscle fibers! take her out for parfaits!”
“i buy her meat buns every tuesday,” ushijima said, entirely serious. “and i carry her duffel bag because it keeps her shoulders aligned for the weekend matches.”
“good lad! nice to meet you, kid! keep him in line!”
the call ended, leaving the room quiet again. you turned to ushijima, your heart thumping against your chest like a trapped bird. “your dad seems really cool, waka. you look a lot like him.”
wakatoshi set the phone down. he didn’t pick up his tea. instead, he shifted his massive frame so he was facing you completely, his knees brushing against your thigh. the sheer size of him always made you feel small, but right now, with the afternoon sun hitting the side of his olive-brown hair, he felt massive in a way that made your stomach twist into a bunch of happy knots.
“he’s glad,” wakatoshi said softly.
“glad about what?”
“that i found you.” his large, calloused hand reached out, his thumb gently brushing a stray crumb of mango from the corner of your mouth. his touch was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the hands that could dent floors with a leather ball. “i told him last month that i found someone who makes me want to play better. he told me to keep her close.”
your throat felt entirely dry. “oh. that’s… that’s really nice of him.”
the next morning at school, you were standing by the shoe lockers when tendō materialized from behind a pillar like a tall, red-headed sleep paralysis demon.
“soooo!” tendō sang, leaning down until his nose was nearly touching yours, his eyes wide with interest for gossip. “the golden boy took the celestial shield to the home fortress! how was the queen mother? did she approve of the future daughter-in-law? did wakatoshi show you his collection of perfectly organized sports towels? details, look, details!”
you slipped your indoor shoes on, looking at him with mild confusion. “mrs. ushijima was really nice! she gave me barley tea. and we talked to his dad on the phone. he’s in california!”
semi, who was walking past with a stack of printouts, stopped dead in his tracks. the papers creased under his grip. “wait. hold on. he introduced you to his parents? both of them? in the same afternoon?”
“yeah,” you said, adjusting your school bag. “wakatoshi’s so sweet. he’s the best friend i’ve made since coming to shiratorizawa. he’s just so supportive of my volleyball career.”
the hallway went dead silent.
semi’s soul looked like it was actively trying to escape through his ears again. tendō froze mid-sway, his long fingers locking into claws in front of his chest.
“…friend?” tendō whispered, his voice cracking like dry kindling. “friend who is a boy? platonic? like… a buddy? a pal? a comrade-in-arms?”
“well, yeah,” you said, completely earnest. “he asked me to be his girl-friend after that joint practice, remember? it’s really nice having a guy friend who doesn’t make a big deal out of things. he just treats me normally.”
from five feet away, shirabu walked past, paused, looked at your face, looked at tendō’s melting expression, and simply said, “moron.” then he kept walking.
“no, no, no,” semi said, dropping his papers onto a nearby bench. he grabbed you by the shoulders, his eyes wide with a frantic, desperate energy. “look at my face. listen to my words. ushijima wakatoshi does not have ‘girl-friends.’ he doesn’t even have regular friends that he invites over to meet his mother. tendō has been close to him for years and he’s only seen the inside of that house twice, and both times were because of a group project on regional agriculture!”
“he’s literally courting you like an eighteenth-century warlord,” tendō wheezed, clutching his stomach as a massive grin broke across his face. “oh my god. he thinks you’re his fiancé at this point. he probably has a small shrine dedicated to your knee pads in his bedroom.”
you blinked, the words slowly tumbling around in your brain. courting? fiancé? shrine?
“but… he just likes my receives,” you mumbled, though your face was suddenly reaching a boiling point. “he says my center of gravity is optimal.”
“that is the equivalent of a poetry slam for him!” semi yelled, throwing his hands up. “if that man tells you your platform is stable, he’s basically asking you to move in with him!”
before you could process the absolute collapse of your reality, a heavy shadow fell over the three of you.
ushijima stood at the end of the hall. he had his blazer buttoned perfectly, his hair neat, and in his right hand, he was holding a small, warm plastic bag from the convenience store. he walked past semi and tendō as if they were nothing more than decorative house plants, stopping right in front of you.
“the cafeteria was out of the pork buns you like,” he said, his deep voice instantly cutting through the panic in your head. he reached into the bag and pulled out a fresh, steaming bun, wrapping it carefully in a napkin so you wouldn’t burn your fingers. “so i walked to the station store before the bell rang. eat it before class starts. your energy levels need to be high for the afternoon receiving drills.”
you looked at the warm bun in your hands. then you looked up at his face.
for the first time, you noticed the way he was looking at you. it wasn’t the look he gave the whiteboard during strategy meetings. it wasn’t even the look he gave a perfectly inflated ball. his pupils were blown wide, his jaw was slightly relaxed, and there was a soft, almost desperate warmth in his eyes that was entirely directed at you. he looked like a man who had stared into the sun and decided he never wanted to look at the dark again.
“wakatoshi,” you squeaked, your heart doing a massive backflip that left you slightly dizzy. “do you… do you think we’re dating?”
ushijima tilted his head, his brow furrowing in genuine, uncomplicated confusion.
“we are,” he said simply. “i asked you to be my girlfriend. you said yes. i have already informed my family and the team captain registration form for the summer tournament lists you as my emergency contact.”
tendō let out a high-pitched shriek of pure joy behind him, while semi just covered his face with both hands, groaning into his palms.
you stared at him, the sheer, beautiful absurdity of the situation finally crashing down. he was so serious. so completely, utterly devoted to you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of a misunderstanding. he had just decided you were his, and he had been taking care of you with every ounce of his massive, stubborn heart ever since.
a sudden, wild burst of affection bloomed in your chest. you took a big bite of the pork bun, chewed quickly, swallowed, and grabbed his free hand with both of yours.
“okay,” you said, your face burning but your grin matching his dad’s from across the ocean. “then you better buy me the big parfait after practice today, boyfriend.”
ushijima’s eyes widened slightly, a rare, beautiful flash of teeth showing as a genuine smile broke across his face. his hand squeezed yours back, so hard your fingers cracked a little, but you didn’t care at all.
“i will buy you three,” he said.
n: i’ll be going out to treat my siblings tomorrow so idk if i can upload :3 it’s my little sister’s birthday tomorrow !
fratboy!satoru and his pathetic crush on artmajor!reader || fluff! slightly ooc? *ೃ༄
satoru gojo’s history with women looked a little something like this..
slept with: 47
dated: 0
with such a stark difference in numbers, it was safe to assume the loser was a grade A slut with no sort of moral compass when it came to the self respect of him or his nighttime partners.
prior to this very moment, satoru had no issue with these stats. the white haired freak knew where he stood with dating, and that was in the furthest corner away from the subject. nothing was able to change his mind on this whole debacle either, his whorish practices were pretty much set in stone and he’d thought it would stay like that until the day he died (or in the odd event in which he’d turn 40 and want to marry. very unlikely with the kinds of risks he took, but still.)
so, each time a girl tried to become anything more than a quick hook up on the weekend, he’d turn them down almost as soon as the words left their mouths. politely, of course, but rejection all hurts the same.
dating and satoru gojo? that was one big red no no.
that was, until he’d caught a fleeting, glorious glimpse of you.
for reasons unknown to anyone he’d fallen head over heels the second his blue eyes had landed on you one night at a sorority mixer. you just looked so different to his usual spectacle when it came to these stuffy parties. you looked like those girls you see once in a lifetime in the city and think about every day from that point on.
“who the fuck is that.” he jabs his best friend suguru’s torso, jutting out his chin to point at you from across the room.
suguru lifts his head and stares intensely, squinting his purple eyes. “nah i can’t see shit, man. need my glasses.” suguru huffs a laugh, and satoru groans.
“oh, for god’s sake.” the lanky man curses and fishes around in his pocket for a second, then pulls loose his own reading glasses smacking them onto geto’s face.
“ahh, i see,”
“yeah well, now y’ do.” satoru rolls his eyes with a small scoff. “what’s her name?”
“that’s [name], she’s in my course actually.”
“shit, she does art?”
“mhm, really good at it too. kinda jealous, i can’t lie.” the raven haired man nods.
suguru starts rambling on about art shit and satoru stops paying attention at that point like he always does when his friend gets into the whole ‘art kid’ spiel.
“right, sounds tough, man. do you have her instagram or somethin’?” he brushes suguru off, trying to make it seem as if he couldn’t care less despite hanging off of suguru’s answer.
suguru messes around with the app before saying, “mhm, here y’ go.” he holds up his phone displaying a very pretty looking account, and satoru snatches up the cell.
“thanks, man.”
and that’s when the obsession properly began.
after looking through your instagram that night, he’d decided you were everything he’d ever wanted and more. you were kind, which was evident in the various charity events you attended with your friends, a quality satoru adored. you loved animals, which was telling from the multiple cat/dog pictures on your year dump highlights, and you had style that rivaled the cool people he always saw lurking around the fashion block. you were so interesting, and he feared you might be the only person he’d let out swag him.
you were complete perfection.
was that really weird to assume after seeing someone once and stalking their social media? yeah, yeah it was. but guys like gojo seriously couldn’t care less.
over the next two weeks gojo spent around half an hour a day waiting outside geto’s art class after physics to ‘walk him back to the frat,’ when really, the brain dead loser was very unstealthily looking for you.
“this is your big plan to get some? jeez man. give it a rest.” a very bored suguru sighed after around the fifth time gojo’d pulled this.
“whatever are you talking about? m’ just being a good friend.” he answered, still unsubtly looking over his shoulder to watch you walking the opposite way back to your dorm, dressed in the prettiest little outfit.
“you’ve made me walk home drunk for an hour because you couldn’t be bothered picking me up from a bar.. you’re the furthest thing from a ‘good frie—”
“—do you ever shut up? god, let me be a changed man.” he half heartedly shot back, peeling his head around when you finally fall just out of sight.
“god, i hate you.” suguru sighs.
“nuh uh.”
“just ask her for her number!”
“nuh uh.”
and he didn’t, but not because he didn’t want to necessarily, but because he just couldn’t.. he got this weird anxious feeling deep down in his gut whenever he told himself he’d try, and gojo was someone very foreign to anxiety. guy could strip naked and go streaking in the streets, but when it came to either sending you a message on instagram or walking up to you to get your number? he just couldn’t do it. it was way, way out of the equation.
he felt like a shy high school girl who had a thing for one of the athletic jocks, a match that was legitimately the other way around.
“sugu, tell me more about that chick.” he falls down onto the couch next to his all-but fed-up-friend another time.
“the chick i’ve already told you every single detail i know about? yeah, no. you wanna know more? go talk to her yourself, pussy.” the man scoffs while flicking through some textbook and jotting down notes and annotations in his skrtch pad.
gojo sighs and gives up, throwing his head back like a child. suguru was right, he’d already picked his brain as much as a brain could be picked. what you did in class, who you hung out with, what kinda music you liked, where you worked. all things he’d then gone to study extensively.
as he’s busy wallowing in self pity at the fact he’d probably never get to speak to you, his eye catches the front cover of the textbook geto was cradling, a colourful abstracted painter’s palette on a white background titled, ‘art, second edition. a visual history.’
“that a new thing you’re studying? haven’t seen you with that book before.”
geto could say all he wanted about gojo and his less than stellar friendship qualities, but he had to admit the idiot was observant.
“mhm, got it new from the professor last week, everyone’s been studying ’em like crazy for our upcoming exam.”
hm.
the next time satoru’s strolling through the university after basketball practice all sweaty and gross, the man stumbles over something and almost trips face first into the grass.
“ah, fuck.” he mutters, steadying himself on a big tree beside him, flinging his head around so fast you’d think he’d get whiplash.
over his shoulder, he spots the cause of his little trip, a thick looking book lying face down in the lush blades of green.
he leans down to pick the thing up, wiping dirt off the cover before something clicks in his head.
art, second edition. a visual history. what geto was studying?
he flicks through the pages, eventually landing on the front, which had a crisp log chart signed with just one name.
[name] [last name], women’s dorm: 4
fucking jackpot.
you’re sat around your dorm just chilling out and painting when you hear three raps on your door.
knock knock knock.
visitors right now? weird.
you drop your brush into the water jar beside you, slip out from your desk, and fiddle with the knob pulling it back just to be met with the frattiest guy you think you’d ever seen.
he’s tall, got tousled white hair topped with a backwards baseball cap, a tight white wife beater stretched around his chest, baggy skater jeans, jordan 4s, and simple silver jewelery littering his wrists, fingers, and neck.
yikes, what did he want with you?
“uh, hey. do y’ need anything?” you ask semi shyly, wiping your face which leaves a small streak of purple paint on your cheek.
the big speech he had planned, the chivalrous toothy smile he had hidden behind his lips, both absolutely nowhere to be seen.
this dummy can’t even reply. he just stands there staring at you like some poor excuse for a serial killer.
“uhm...” you start to close the door comically slow, waiting for some sort of answer before the hinges on the door form a 180 and the lock clicks into place.
satoru is still as stone, mental warfare exploding in his pea sized brain.
fucking say something, satoru!
“hi!”
hi? fucking hi?
“yeah, hi?” you reply, clearly growing more uncomfortable as this horribly cringe situation draws out.
you watch as the mysterious man takes in a deep breath before putting forth his arm. in his grasp sits the art history textbook you were sure you left with utahime.
“oh! thank you so much.” you nod, taking it from his hand only to be left tugging on it... the guy wouldn’t let go!
“so can i... like, can i have it?” you deadpan, pulling on it again. the man lets go and pulls a hand down his chin in a clearly embarrassed fashion.
satoru gojo wanted to die. he was sure as hell the demon lord was out to get him because what the actual fuck was he doing?
lock in, satoru, you can do this. lock in. he reels in his brain, resorting to pep talks. he really was pathetic.
another deep breath later and you finally manage to hear something coherent come from this tall weirdos mouth.
“god, m’ really sorry. must be the weather,, huh?” he awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck while swaying back and forth on his feet nervously. what was becoming more and more obvious for satoru was that while he could swoon ladies into bed, it’d seem talking to them without intent to fuck was a little more difficult than he’d presumed..
“yep, must be the weather.” you purse your lips, trying your best not to cackle at the movie like awkwardness of all this.
but you can’t help it... you start laughing right in this guy’s face.
and if this wasn’t already going bad, gojo feels the heat in his cheeks triple when he hears that noise. beautiful, but definitely directed at him. and before he knows it, he’s laughing right along with you.
“ah, jeez. i really am sorry.” he chuckles softly. “i really don’t know what i’m doing right now.” he admits, and like the angel you are, you just nod.
“yeah, i can tell. who even are you? where did you find this?” you smile up at him. he’d better be thankful you were so laid back, any other girl would probably call the cops on an interaction like this.
he laughs once more, “my name’s satoru, and uhm... it’s kind of a long story?” he rubs his neck again, peering down at you with a bashful look.
“yeah? well i’ve got the rest of the afternoon. wanna come inside? i’ll make you tea or something. a reward for returning my book. without this thing i’m cooked for my history exam.” you look to him for an answer.
what was it they said? all bad things come to an end or something?
“i would love to.” the usually cocky guy smiles, feeling even more flushed than before.
and with that, he’s being led inside a girl’s dorm, and not just any girl’s dorm, a girl he’s been plotting on for a good three weeks.
not for sex, for tea.
hey, progress is progress!
you sit him down on your small couch and he gawks at your room, he’d just entered every art kid’s dream studio.
there were canvases stood up against every free wall, all shapes and sizes. you had blocks of wet clay and half finished sculptures sat in one corner, and a wall full of free hanging tubes of paint, every colour of the rainbow and their many accompanying hues.
he already thought you were cool, but this took it to the next level.
“you like?” he hears you ask from the small kitchenette.
“hell yeah, your dorm is cool as fuck. my friend suguru would die for a setup like this.” he nods, watching fondly as you place one cup of tea in front of him on the coffee table. he never drinks tea, but if it was you offering, he thinks he’d drink sewer water. he takes a sip and pretends like the near boiling temperature didn’t just scorch his entire throat all nonchalantly.
“suguru, huh? i know him. he’s in my class.” you nod, sitting beside him with your own cup.
every ounce of confidence he’d worked up since that little blip at your door dissipated as soon as your butt hit the couch. damn you art majors and your lack of conservation, he thinks, remembering when him and suguru first met and the man had quite literally bear hugged him and decied they were best friends that night because satoru had a ‘nice vibe.’ he’s sure the man regrets that now, but that’s beside the point.
“so, gonna tell me about my book? make it a good story, too.” you turn to face him, lounging back so effortlessly as you sip at your tea, waiting for the boy to start talking.
he nods, sipping at his drink before clearing his throat. now was his time to swoon you, he could do this...
...do this he did not. in fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to kick him out for being a stalker right then and there.
instead of making up some cool, amazing story as to how he found out who you were and where he got the book, he’d spilled the beans on his little crush on you.
every. little. detail.
from the instagram to his ill intended walks home with geto, from the countless questions to him almost eating shit tripping over your book. satoru had put it alllll out into the open.
and yet, to his surprise you weren’t staring at him like he’d killed your puppy, your hand wasn’t inching to grab your phone and dial 000, you were laughing. again.
that sweet sound he’d heard before now back in full force as he sits there mortified at the atrocities that spewed from his lips just moments ago.
and just like before, he joins in.
between heaves you’re able to get out a sentence. “so you’re telling me you’ve seen me at a party, stalked my instagram, decided you were in love with me, watched out for me after every single art class, and annoyed poor geto every day for nitpicks on me?”
he’s shyly smiling, trying to let go of his embarrassment as best he could. “that’s uh... that’s pretty much it, yeah.” he cringes, nodding slowly as another puff of laughter comes from your throat.
“and you just so happen to stumble across my book on campus? y’know what that sounds like to me?”
“uh? what?”
“fate.” you smile.
now it was his turn to huff out a laugh.
“you believe in that shit?”
“you don’t?” you retort.
that makes him think. the chronological stages of events were particularly convenient, and he’d fallen upon your book just when he was starting to give up hope...
“i guess you’re right.”
“yeah, well i’m always right.”
“that so?” he chuckles. somehow, in the half an hour in which he’s gotten to speak with you, he’d never felt more joy come out of a conversation and fill him with a sense of life.
you were just so calm. not only did you hear him out after that terrible first impression, but here you were serving him tea in your unfairly cool dorm in unfairly cool mugs with your unfairly cool composition.
“so, if fate wants us to meet so badly, how about we meet again?” you riddle, interrupting his thoughts and causing his eyebrows to shoot up.
did you just.. did she just ask me out?
he thinks he could die happy right here in this very moment. take me god, i'm ready.
“like... like on a—”
“—on a date. i’d like to meet you again, satoru. you’re kind of a weird freak.. but i like it.” you smile, offering him a wink as you sip your tea again.
a weird freak.. the most degrading comment anyone’s ever been brave enough to give him, and instead he takes it as the biggest compliment in the history of compliments.
“i would love to go out on a date with you.”
“i know.”
“do you just?”
“told you, i know everything.”
he laughs once more, shaking his head and looking down at his cup. as he looks back up, he notices the smudge of purple paint still there form before, and with a big surge of confidence he pulls his finger over the mark to wipe it away.
he watches as your eyes go all soft, your lips turning up into a very fond smile. "well, you're definitely cute. i'll give you that."
and the blush he thought he'd got rid of came back just as quick, painting his face in a light pink as he smiles back.
satoru gojo, a guy who once scoffed at the idea of dating was here blushing over a girl calling him cute.. living proof that someone can change for the right kind of person, and he was prepared to make all the sacrifices in the world if it meant seeing that beautiful smile permanently painted on your pretty face.
slept with: 47
dated: 1
a/n i love and hate this guy he's so fun to write but i can't help but make him a pathetic loser </3
note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works
⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*
atsumu
neon lights (in a world gray)
triple trouble
drunk mind sober heart
green with envy
a commemoration of firsts
till one of us caves
long black
anyways, don't be a stranger
kageyama
fate
when one door closes
stolen kisses
miscommunication
him?!
haunt me
volleyball on the brain
you can hear it in the silence
sakusa
soft and wet
public transit
miscarry
it's still love
drawing our moments
bed
this victory is mine, and yours
touch starved
oikawa
babygirl
pinch
two stories
settle
always
perfect
pain split
here's to the sixth time
ushijima
request
trust fall
atlas
bitter / sweet
soft, but for you only
in time
page 304
bokuto
inferior
an accidental heroine
as loud as you like
lucid
swept up in the moment
heart attack
note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works
⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*
atsumu
neon lights (in a world gray)
triple trouble
drunk mind sober heart
green with envy
a commemoration of firsts
till one of us caves
long black
anyways, don't be a stranger
kageyama
fate
when one door closes
stolen kisses
miscommunication
him?!
haunt me
volleyball on the brain
you can hear it in the silence
sakusa
soft and wet
public transit
miscarry
it's still love
drawing our moments
bed
this victory is mine, and yours
touch starved
oikawa
babygirl
pinch
two stories
settle
always
perfect
pain split
here's to the sixth time
ushijima
request
trust fall
atlas
bitter / sweet
soft, but for you only
in time
page 304
bokuto
inferior
an accidental heroine
as loud as you like
lucid
swept up in the moment
heart attack
synopsis: your one friend. your only friend. the one friend who became your "too little too late". the boy who asks on a visit back home from college for that pact deal that either makes or breaks you.
pairing(s): nerdjo x shy fem!reader
c.w. & w.c.: 8k :: plot plot plot :: smut with plot :: virgin nerdjo :: virgin reader :: p in v :: oral :: m & f receiving :: nerdjo is lwk dumb :: unrequited feelings :: angst :: slow burn slow burn :: they are ADULTS
you were quiet, you always had been. silent and going unnoticed.
you struggled to make friends with your damned shyness. it was a curse, you were sure of it.
your parents tried their hardest to get you into things- play dates when you were a child, sports in each year of school- until they finally gave up when you entered your high school years, figuring you'd make a friend or you wouldn't when their efforts over the years ultimately failed.
either way, they brushed their hands clean of the problem and left it in your hands.
you didn't really expect to make a friend. you didn't particularly care to, either. you just wanted silence- you wanted to go to the library, read and study for your tests or go on a walk and leave it at that.
that was until he landed in your lap-
you were new to the school, family just moving to a new town for your dads work- better paying job or something; you didn't pay much mind to it.
you had moved a lot over the years, which you very well believed contributed into why you were so shy- anytime you would think you were making a friend, a move would happen.
it didn't finally slow until you turned 18 and your parents decided to make this move the last one. the permanent move.
it was lunch hour when you decided to walk into the library instead of sitting next to a bunch of girls and the jocks who just wanted another body added onto their roster. pigs. they were all pigs.
but he wasn't.
you were sitting criss-cross applesauce on the rough carpet of the library, each torn fray scratching on your leg with your back hunched over in search of one of your favorite books when it landed right into your lap, literally.
then came his voice with no face.
"did that hit you?!" his voice was smooth, with a layer of panic before you heard quick footsteps shuffling around to the other side where you sat.
his face. oh he was pretty- too pretty.
his blue eyes were framed with those plastic rectangular frames, his white hair that looked as soft as clouds and his pale skin that mirrored the assumption that he rarely stepped outside for too long.
you blinked before looking away quickly- forcing yourself to look away with how hard your heart was pounding in your chest and down to the book in your lap- reading the cover 'The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger' again and again. anything to avoid those eyes.
"i didn't realize someone was over here," he rambled off, clueless to the fact that you were okay, "i should've been more careful."
everything flying out of his mouth except an apology, not that you cared. you found it funny over anything.
it was a different way to begin a friendship.
but it happened.
you learned quickly that his name was satoru gojo. he was the nerd of the school, picked on and bullied for always having his face shoved into a book instead of sneaking out and partying every weekend.
study sessions that ran long from debates turned into unplanned movie nights where gojo whispered commentary the entire time, unprovoked.
the back corner of the library unofficially became y'all's nook that nobody ever seemed to bother.
the long walks shared became a time where the two of you would spill your secrets out to one another- things nobody else would ever hear, confessions that strengthened your bond, the kind of secrets that either had you laughing breathlessly or wanting nothing more than to wrap each other up in a hug.
-
high school graduation crept up faster than you expected. faster than either of you expected.
the past few months leading into the final weeks before graduation were filled with sending off applications to dream colleges, waiting for your cap and gown, final testing that had your hearts pounding and palms sweating.
it was tense- stressful and growing quiet.
you were in the library. yours and gojo's nook. your safe place.
your heart was in your stomach and a lump growing in your throat that you couldn't force back down.
the paper in your hands was shaking from the trembling you couldn't get rid of-
"thank you for your application to our college. after careful review of an exceptionally competitive pool of applicants, we deeply regret to inform you-"
the paper stains with the tears falling off your cheeks, words unreadable by the weight in your eyes.
this was the college that both you and gojo had applied to- in the hope that the two of you would be accepted and be somewhere new. but with each other.
your mother gave you the letter last night, eyes big and hopeful that you'd open it with her so she could see the look on her face. only to be disappointed when you told her-
"i'll open it with gojo tomorrow."
you had hope. excitement, even.
your grades were great, you had done so much volunteering, clubs, stacked your schedule with planned extracurricular - all in hopes that it would make your application stand out more.
just for them to be dwindled down to nothing in just a few words on cheap paper.
the only noises filling the air were the tissues crumpling under your fingertips and the sound of whispers and pages flipping down the aisles of books.
had you not done enough? were your grades not to their liking? your mind was filled with hurt, confusion and simmering anger beneath all of it.
you were so confident that you'd be accepted.
you were too lost in your thoughts to hear gojo's quick footsteps approaching the corner.
"hey! you get your letter yet?" excitement and anticipation lacing his tone.
before he could see, you shove the letter back inside your bag, blinking away the tears.
you couldn't tell him. this was embarrassing. you were ashamed, even when you knew that you did your best.
you finally turn to look at him, plastering your infamous fake smile onto your lips. "hm? oh. not yet, it might be in the mailbox when i get home." your voice came out steadier than how you felt.
"are we still going to open them with each other?" gojo asks. he moves to pull the chair out across from you. "because i got mine, but i can wait to open it until you get yours."
there's a beat of silence before you force yourself to speak. "what? no! don't wait for me, open it!"
gojo doesn't hesitate. a grin sliding onto his face, that easy confidence he always wore around you.
he tears the envelope open. that same exact one you received.
you focus on his hands holding the paper. watching for if they tighten around it, how they always do if he got good news. or if they'd tremble the same way yours did.
the silence is deafening while his eyes trace each line. taking each word in.
"holy-" he laughs under his breath, eyes widening as they flick back to the top of the page, making sure he wasn't hallucinating the words. "i got in!"
the words feel like they echo.
you swallow down the lump in your throat.
"that's- that's amazing!" you say quickly, too quickly. you hope he doesn't catch the way your words waver at the edges. "i knew you would!"
his eyes are still on the paper. that grin still plastered on his face. it makes your chest swell and clench at the same time.
you were happy for him, really you were. even when your letter shattered your heart and your hope. more thoughts consumed you in the silence.
would the two of you still be friends? would you two still talk? would he visit?
you clear your throat softly. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom then head to my next class." you watch as gojo's eyes finally lock onto you, there's a flicker in his eyes. he's reading you, like always.
"i'm so happy for you!" you add on quickly, hiding the way your hands began to tremble again with your backpack.
his mouth is already opening before you can walk away fast enough.
"do you want me to ride with you after school?" his grin faltering, just barely. "in-case you got your letter, you can open it with me?"
"gojo. i- " you debate telling him, his eyes are locked onto your face. waiting. "i think i just want to open mine with my mom."
he gives you a nod. "okay. will you let me know what it says, at least."
"yeah, of course." it was another lie and he probably knew it. "you'll be the first person i call."
you don't give him the chance to say anything else before your feet are carrying you towards the library doors.
each step feels heavier than the last. you didn't know how you were going to tell him. regardless, you knew he'd go anyways and you already got a college acceptance letter from the local one here.
the library doors push open with a soft creak, the noise sounds too loud in your ears. too final.
you can feel gojo's gaze on your back as you walk out and into the hall. you don't turn around. you can't break here.
the halls are packed with students, maneuvering their way to their next class. talks of college and the excitement in their whispers and shouts as they're telling their friends they got accepted into the college they wanted.
must be nice.
each one made your own hurt grow deeper and question yourself right over the edge.
you quickly make your way to your next class, drying the tears that slipped over the whispers on your sleeve. nobody you know, at least that well is in this class. it feels like a relief, it only lasts for second before your mind is going back to gojo.
the hurt that flickered across his blue eyes when you told him you'd just open the letter- the letter you already opened, with your mom. when you two promised to open them together. or the way his hand looked like it wanted to stop you from leaving.
you shouldn't have lied to him. he knew your smallest and darkest secrets and never failed to listen with no judgment and there was never pity in his eyes.
your heart clenches at the thought of him still in that library nook. alone and confused. if he was even still there, probably already heading to his next class. did he sense you were lying? is he going to be mad that you lied to him? disappointed in you for not getting in?
another tear is welling up before you can stop it. he'll be gone in no time, traveling to his new college and this is how you choose to spend the last few weeks with him. telling him lies that are bound to come out?
you shake your head quickly before refocusing your attention on your teacher who was going around the room with a pop quiz to end the school day off with. it wasn't what you were hoping for but maybe it would help take your mind off of everything.
a heavy hand lands on your shoulder and the quiz slides onto your desk. "try to focus, honey. it's the end of the year."
"yes, sir." your voice is a whisper. your teachers hand gives you a light squeeze before moving onto the next student.
you glance down at the quiz, eyes scanning the questions. it's questions you already know the answers to which makes it so much easier. you'll fly through this, no issue. then you can finally go home and sulk in peace.
a timer is set in the front of the room for 30 minutes.
"this is for a grade, don't panic about how you'll do." your teacher announces to the class, finger on the start button. "it's not a grade that will stop you from graduating. just wanna see how many of you have paid attention this year."
his chubby fingers smashes the start button in. "think of it as- if you fail, study harder because college is worse than me. good luck."
it probably wasn't a joke but it was enough to make you crack the slyest of smiles.
your pencil lands on the paper and immediately starts filling the little bubbles in. your mind was free of the college worries, your mind was too busy comprehending the questions to focus on the letter. or him.
the 30 minutes fly by. though, your paper was already done and flipped with 12 minutes to spare. you're confident you passed. confident enough not to trace back over your answers to double check anything.
you also couldn't find it in you to necessarily care either. it wouldn't stop you from graduating, your teacher said that himself and it's not like you were getting into your favorite college either.
-
the day finished quickly after that. you were able to dart out of class, through the halls and squeezing through bodies to make it out to the bike rack. everything to avoid gojo.
or so you thought.
because there he was, right next to your bike and waiting with his. helmet in his hand, his fingers running over the ridges on the top, not noticing your presence yet.
"gojo" you call out. your voice carrying over the noise in lot. you didn't need to ask why he was here. he always put his bike right next to yours.
his attention snaps up. "hey! i know you said you were gonna open it with your mom but i figured i could still ride home with you."
you blink. mouth opening to try and find any words to talk him out of it-
"and if it's there then we can still open it together-"
"gojo, i didn't get in." it comes out before you can stop it. your tone snappier than you intended for it to be.
you're already taking your backpack off and quickly unzipping it before pulling out the letter. "i got it yesterday, i opened it in the library while i was waiting for you. i didn't get in, it's fine. so, drop it."
gojo takes the letter from your hand, scanning each line with his eyes. "i- i'm so sorry" gojo's voice is a whisper. "i can always apply for the college you do get into, you and i both know-"
"gojo." your voice slices through his words, you force your voice to be steady. your skin is already prickling with irritation. you should've known he'd say this. "it's fine, really. i'm sure i'll get into the local one here. college is college."
before he can say anything else, you're taking the letter back from his hand and placing it back into your bag. not caring if it's crumpled or not, you'd end up burning it anyways.
"you know we'll still be friends, right?" gojo's eyes are locked on you as you pull the wheel of your bike from the rack. "and i'll come visit and you can come visit me."
you sigh. plastering that fake smile onto your lips, trying your hardest to make it seem genuine. "i know, 'toru."
"i can apply to the local college here"
"i know."
"do you want me too?" gojo's voice is hesitant, careful.
there's a beat of silence. "are you pitying me right now?"
"what? no! i- i just know we both wanted to get into the same one, being.. friends and all."
there was a hesitant pull in his words. his gaze won't stay on you, eyes darting anywhere but your face - his bike tire, his helmet, other students walking by.
"yeah," you whisper. "it's unfortunate this is how our cards fell."
your heart is pounding in your chest, deepening the cracks with every pulse.
"we're still gonna talk." you force a smile. "it's okay. it's gonna be okay."
the afternoon sun is beating down on gojo and he's still not meeting your eyes.
and suddenly, you're noticing the things you never paid much attention to before..
like how the sun reflects onto gojo's hair like a halo, or how the sun glimmering in his eyes make them paler as they reflect the sky or how his skin almost glimmers like porcelain.
your breathe is catches in your throat before you can stop it. you blink, once, twice- like it might reset your brain. or your eyes.
you clear your throat softly, but it doesn't slow down the pounding in your chest. it's faster now as you notice the things about him that have always been there.. as you're losing him.
a faint cherry stain is covering your cheeks, something you hope he doesn't notice.
"i need to get home." you say softly. you pull your bike back, the tires scraping against the lot before swinging your leg over the seat and setting your helmet onto your head.
gojo's gaze finally snaps to you. "text me when you're home?"
the words land heavier than they should- hesitant in a way that makes it seem he wants to ask for more than just a mere text.
"of course, 'toru."
and with that, you're peddling off the lot. the tires sending sending a jostle through you with each crack and bump in the road, it grounds you, just barely as your mind still is still swimming with him. with the things you noticed that made your heart clench and swell.
-
you didn't talk to gojo much after that interaction, besides sending him a quick text that you were home before showing your mom your rejection letter and crying into her arms. her hand was soft on your hair, stroking it like you were just her lap-sized child again.
her whispers brought you more calmness than anything. her voice drenched in the same warm tone she used to comfort you with when you scraped your knee or when you'd come home crying over mean children at school.
"how did gojo react? did you tell him?"
your heart squeezes painfully in your chest, the images of gojo's eyes filling your mind like venom wrapped in lace. "i snapped at him, told him i didn't get in." you whisper.
her hand pauses on your hair- her fingers resting on your scalp. then a sigh escapes her. "did you apologize?"
your mother knows better than anyone that you don't snap, you don't bite, you don't attack without reason. and you hate that she knows something is brewing. somewhere.
"why would i? i was. . .vulnerable, i don't know." you'd be lying to her and to yourself, if you said you didn't feel bad. "he gets it."
all you could see were his eyes. those electric blue eyes that fell dull, like a light turning off before he couldn't even meet your gaze. as if it were too painful to even look at you.
was it because you snapped? was it because he was disappointed in you for failing to get into the college you were both so excited about? was it something unspoken?
your hair pulls when you lift your head out of your moms lap, needing to go do something else. watch a movie, read a book. anything to take your mind off. . .everything before you break down into tears again.
you stand from the couch, slowly feeling your heart sink back into your stomach like a weight unseen. your knees ache from their bent positioning, you look back to take a glance at your mom- to thank her, to ask what was for dinner.
your eyes are begging more than you thought. pleading for the silence to be cut by her words. something filled with comfort, something warm, something that grounds you.
her eyes are locked onto your face when your eyes reach her. her eyes suddenly more serious, still filled with warmth but you know that look- the look she gives you before delivering the cold hard truth. the one you end up denying, fighting and fleeing from.
"the kind of relationship the two of you share," she starts, voice unwavering in its firmness. "you don't want to mess up, not now."
you blink. your heart pounds louder in your chest. what did she mean by that?
"the kind of relationship we have? we-we're friends." you stammer out. your fingers twitch unbidden, a heat crawling up your neck like a second skin. "what do you mean?"
a small grin pulls at her lips. "you two think y'all are still friends? just friends?"
her question makes your breath catch in your throat. had she seen things you never did? that you never caught? or things you ignored?
your mother stands from the couch, sparing you a glance before her legs are carrying her towards the kitchen. she pauses at the entryway before turning to look at you.
"friends. . .if that's what you two are content on calling each other, don't look at each other like that."
and with that, before you can even get another word out. she's gone and into the kitchen. the only sounds coming out were the hums your mother always hummed after making a point that she knew was right.
and you hated it.
you hated that it gave you a warm feeling in your chest.
you hated that everything came flooding in-
the moments you forgot; when you'd hand him something and his fingers would linger on yours, a silent plea to hold it longer or when you'd speak and he'd look at you with a glint in his eyes that cried out for more.
it slammed in like a tidal wave. all of it. everything you've overlooked. everything you've ignored.
and now, it was all too late.
graduation was right around the corner. days away.
gojo would be far away, probably little to no visits, making new friends, finding someone else, talks only through texts and phone calls, facetimes would probably grow less frequent with how busy your schedules would be.
you don't remember walking to your room, sitting at your desk or even moving your fingers until they grazed over gojo's contact name.
you wanted to text him again, call him, ask him to come over.
you stare at the last text you got from him. it was hours ago, he hadn't even replied. or read it.
you set your phone down before you can spiral further. you didn't understand all of these feelings flooding into your mind like waves.
the way your heart clenched at the thought of him being gone soon. your first true friend who you were terrified of losing. the warmness that filled your body when you remember the softness in his touch, the crow's feet that greeted his smile.
it was all too much.
-
the days passed in a flurry- last minute school pictures, club photos, sporting events, and the final tests that would determine if you got to walk across the stage with that practiced bright smile and walk away with your diploma and into the doors of college.
you had seen gojo a handful of times, the feelings digging deeper into your soul each time you looked at him. you shoved each one away like it was a poison you couldn't ingest.
and it hurt each time.
you were currently walking through the hall, students passing you one by one, the excitement filled whispers that graduation was tomorrow met your ears. you were excited, actually excited. you found out you passed your final test with flying colors.
and on top of that, you received your acceptance letter from your local college. it wasn't the original plan but at least it was something. it would further your education, even if you weren't with your best friend.
"hey!" a voice called out from behind you, nearly swallowed from the crowd of students. "wait up!"
gojo.
you slow your steps, turning just enough to see that white blur of hair towering over the crowd.
you can already feel the heat creeping up your spine, your hand grips the strap of your backpack tighter. you quickly plaster a small grin on your face when the sound of his footsteps come faster, gathering beside you.
"gojo. hi, what's up?"
"hey," he sighs out, catching his breath from his short trot. "um- can i come over later? i just. . .want to talk to you."
your heart picks up speed. what could he want to talk to you about?
his voice was strained. like he was nervous, like he could back out if you hesitate too long on your answer.
"oh. uh, sure." you stammer out. "what about?"
"just.. something, i don't know. like a plan, a pact for the future."
his eyes are locked onto yours. even with the nerves shooting through his every vein. his nails are bitten when you look- a nervous tic he always did. you wouldn't question it further. not now.
"o-okay, yeah- we can walk to my place after school."
"good. i mean- yeah, good." there's a small smile on his lips. his eyes flicker once to your mouth before averting his gaze to a student walking by with his cap and gown.
"have you grabbed your cap and gown, yet?" you ask. spotting the same student and wanting to break the short silence before it could grow awkward.
"no, want to go there now together? then we can walk to your place?"
you make a triangle loop of your arm for him to slide his arm through. "let's go, we're gonna need them anyways."
the walk was short after gojo looped his arm through yours but the line was long. of course. every student, including gojo and you were professional procrastinators, why wouldn't you wait till last minute?
"oh!" gojo says. his looped arm tugging you just a little closer. close enough to feel his warm skin. "i leave for college. . .like next week."
you look up at him and blink. "next week? college doesn't start for another few months, right?"
you couldn't deny the way your heart clenched in your chest, his words pulled at your heart strings. he'd be leaving so soon?
"yeah. my parents want me out of the house a little sooner," gojo says. his tone is normal, like this doesn't bug him. "we're adults now and they want me to learn the place, got me an airbnb for a few months then i'll be in the dorm once college starts."
"next student!" the woman calls.
she already has two caps and gowns in her arms, just waiting for your name and student id.
"names?" she asks. eyes only on her clipboard.
you and gojo give your names and student id number before taking your assigned cap and gown from her arms and exchanging a quick thank you.
the two of you, still looped arm in arm walk away with your things. a new excitement and bubbling nerves coming up. you knew it was real. graduation. but it feels undeniable now when you look at the cap and gown in your arm.
"is that what you wanted to talk about? you leaving?" you ask gojo. weaving through the bodies of students.
gojo blinks, taking a quick glance down at you. "what?"
he laughs. forced, strained from the nerves.
"no, no. more serious than that, promise."
your stomach tightens at his words. you were an anxious person, impatient. a little nosey.
you catch yourself fidgeting with the sleeve of gojo's sweater- a frayed piece of fabric hanging on by a thread, finding yourself twisting it around your finger, dazed in your thoughts of what he could possibly be.
gojo catches it. the look in your eyes. your anxiousness.
he always does.
"fine," gojo says playfully. he takes ahold of your arm and drags you into an empty classroom. "i'll go ahead and tell you. c'mon."
the door closes gently behind the two of you. the smell of the room hits your nostrils- expo markers, paper, pencil sheddings hidden dumped in the mini can.
your heart is pounding in your chest when you turn to see gojo standing close enough- too close. a shred of paper couldn't even fit in between the two of you. you didn't even hear him moving.
"gojo," you breathe out. hoping and praying he can't hear how hard your heart is pounding in your chest. "what is it?"
he takes a step back. realizing how close he was actually standing to you.
he clears his throat softly. "we're both adults now. legally."
"yeah?"
"and. . .we're both-" the room feels tense. gojo stuttering over his words. "we haven't been with anyone."
there it is. kind of. not really.
"what do you mean? like. . .sleeping with people?" you ask. your nerves are in your throat, so thick. you're surprised it isn't choking you.
"y-yeah, that's it. i mean, we've never even kissed anyone."
oh. you did forget telling him that.
irritation starts bubbling deep in your chest, a mixture of the nerves clashing like blades.
"gojo, what's the point of this? can we- can you get to the point?" you didn't mean to snap. it just came out. much like the time when you snapped at him breaking the news.
gojo's eyes widen, barely. but noticeable.
he sighs. "we make a pact. deal, plan, i don't know. we're inexperienced."
gojo pauses, looking into your eyes with those electric blue ones that suddenly seem darker in the illuminated room.
"i'm going off to college, you're staying here. if by the time i come back for a visit, if we haven't slept with anyone. . .w-we do it, we sleep with- um, each other."
you blink. once. twice. your breathing has completely stopped. was it the shock? or is your body giving out?
the silence is deafening until a student a few classes over coughs. knocking you from your frozen state.
"w-what?" you ask. voice no larger than a mouses whiskers on the floor.
"if you don't want to then- then it's fine! it's just. . .we're so close, we know everything about each other, we trust each other. i-i think we could trust each other with that."
gojo's chest is falling and rising faster than your eyes can follow. you could probably see the wheels in his mind turning in a fire if you looked hard and deep enough.
your stomach is in knots.. but, he made a good point.
you would trust him with it. what would it do with your feelings though?
the things your mom had said. the things you had noticed and the complicated feelings you became overwhelmed with. would it ruin the friendship? would it build something?
"gojo-"
you're quickly cut off. "i'm sorry! i shouldn't have said anything-"
"gojo-"
and again. "it was a bad idea-"
"gojo!" you snap. "i- i'm not. . .against the idea."
you couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. but you meant them.
gojo's breath stutters. audibly. attached with a sigh, of relief?
"seriously?"
you blink. he's going to make you say it again?
"yeah. i'm serious. . .i mean, if you are." you whisper. sudden shyness creeping over you again.
your hand is suddenly the most interesting thing in the room- you pick at your nails, not being able to meet gojo's eyes. just knowing and feeling his eyes on you is enough to send a chill up your spine.
"want- want to shake on it?"
your hand extends before his does, a slight tremble that you barely notice until he larger and warmer hand grabs yours. steadying you. grounding you.
you let out a slight cough as your hands move up then back down. confirming. if the time comes. "and if we- if either of us want to back out, that's fine too."
"of course, of course. yeah, no- if you're uncomfortable, tell me."
that makes your heart ache. it goes both ways. "gojo, that means you too."
he still has your hand in his, thumb absentmindedly tracing over the scar on your knuckle. "i couldn't ever be uncomfortable with you."
-
the deal was a secret. nobody knew of it. nobody ever would.
it had been months since that day in the empty classroom. coming up to the year mark. but it still felt fresh to you. you could still feel the touch of his soft hand in yours like he was still there, holding your hand. if you thought hard enough about it.
graduation came and went. parents throwing their kids parties, parents and family wiping their tears with tissues and cheering when their kid walked across the stage for their diploma.
gojo left, just as he said his plan was. his parents renting him an airbnb until college actually starts. learning the area, touring his new campus. exciting but nervewracking times. especially when you don't know anyone.
the goodbye was easier than you both expected. a shared tight hug and a few jokes. but not a single utter of the handshake just days prior.
the anticipation sat deep in your chest as each day passed. break was coming up. you knew he'd be coming for a visit. you two had talked about it over facetime. which was another positive, the two of you seemed to talk more now than you did when you were closer.
no questions were asked. nothing about sleeping with anyone. or parties. or even kissing. but there was something lingering in the wait. a shared glint in your eyes.
you hadn't met anyone. you hadn't shared anything intimate with a soul not because you didn't want to or because you were waiting on him. just nobody caught your eye. you were still that shy girl that had a library book land in her lap that time ago.
you'd be lying though if you sat here and said you didn't miss him. that you hadn't experimented with yourself to the thought of him. was it wrong?
you didn't think so. not when there was a literal agreement that you two shared.
you were at your parents place tonight to rummage their cabinets for food they hadn't touched in months for your own dorm. yeah, you lived in a dorm even still being in a local college. you wanted your own space.
and you adored your roommate, so nowhere to go wrong.
you were shoving cans of corn into your bag when your phone starts buzzing on the counter.
INCOMING CALL: SATORU GOJO
your hand hesitates on a can of corn. a burst of nerves ricochet throughout your body, eyes locked onto the glowing screen on the counter. it's still the same contact photo you gave him from the night you walked in the park and he got stuck in a baby swing.
your hand shoots out before the call can go to voicemail. dragging your finger across the answer button before the line crackles with background noise.
"hello?"
"hey!" gojo's voice comes through the line after a second. "i'm in town!"
your heart hammers in your chest. he wasn't supposed to come to town for another week or so. but you were happy regardless, you'd get to see your best friend again.
the boy you'd been thinking of daily for months. dreaming of running your hands through his hair. looking into his eyes again.
craving his touch. the touch that was never promised. the touch, if it came- the "maybe, one day" touch.
"are you there?" gojo asks, only hearing silence from the line.
you blink. gojo's voice snapping you clean from your thoughts.
"hu-yeah! i'm here, sorry." you say quickly. "how long are you here for?"
"just the weekend, i wanted to see you tonight. it's why i came sooner than the original plan."
"t-tonight?" your voice comes out shakier than expected, nerves bubbling up in your stomach.
at your dorm? you roommate would be there. she didn't leave for another few days.
"my roommate is still in town, we couldn't go there" you continue. "why tonight?"
there's a beat of silence. a shakey intake of breath from gojo before he's covering it with a cough.
"it- uh, do you remember our. . .handshake? the pact?
you answer before you can talk yourself out of it. "yes."
"i wanted to. .talk about it."
would it really be just talking? would this be the 'in' for the step you've been wanting?
you blink. "okay. my parents are out of town," you murmur into the phone. "you could come here, i still have my room here."
"i'll be there in an hour!" gojo's voice is excited. not a hint of nerves in his voice.
he's so oblivious to the lump in your throat. the pounding in your chest.
"okay, i'll see you soon, 'toru."
there were no 'byes'. there never were. what was the point in them? if someone knew the call was ending, why waste your breath?
you place your phone down on the counter before glancing down at yourself.
"at least i look okay." you whisper to yourself.
your dress, the black fabric that barely reached your mid thigh and hugged each curve like a hug. it was perfect. the first flimsy thing you threw on this morning to get out the door and your make-up covered your face in light shimmers. not too much and not too little.
but he did say just talking, right?- but that's always where it begins.
you didn't know what to do with your hands while you waited. you kept smoothing the hem of your dress, then tugging it down again like it might suddenly decide to behave. the house was too quiet—only the hum of the fridge and the faint tick of the clock in the hallway. every minute felt like ten.
when the doorbell finally rang, your stomach flipped so hard you almost dropped the glass of water you'd been pretending to drink.
you opened the door and there he was—satoru gojo, looking unfairly good under the porch light. his hair was a little longer now, curling at the ends, and the hoodie he wore hung loose on his frame but still showed the lean lines of his shoulders. those stupid blue eyes found yours immediately and softened.
"hey," he said, voice low and warm, like he'd been holding his breath the whole drive over.
you barely got out a "hi" before he stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. his arms wrapped around you tight, chin resting on top of your head, and for a second everything felt normal. safe. like nothing had changed.
except everything had.
"missed you so much," he mumbled into your hair.
you hugged him back harder than you meant to. "missed you too, 'toru."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, thumb brushing your cheek like he couldn't help it. "you look. . .wow. that dress."
heat crawled up your neck. "it's just something i threw on."
"liar." his grin was crooked, boyish. "you knew i was coming."
you rolled your eyes but let him inside anyway. shoes off by the door like always. he followed you to the living room, dropping onto the couch with that easy sprawl of his, long legs stretched out. you sat beside him- close, but not touching. not yet.
the silence wasn't awkward. it was thick. expectant.
he rubbed the back of his neck. "so. . .about the pact."
your heart slammed against your ribs. "yeah."
he turned to face you fully, knee brushing yours. "i haven't been with anyone. not even close. college is... a lot. parties every weekend, girls everywhere, but i just- " he shrugged, looking almost sheepish. "couldn't. kept thinking about our deal. about you."
your breath caught. stupid, hopeful thing your heart did at that.
but then he kept going.
"there's this girl, though. utahime. she's in my lit seminar. super smart, kinda bossy in the cutest way. we've been talking a lot. hanging out. she. . .i think she wants to sleep together. soon."
the air left your lungs in a slow, painful leak.
"oh," you managed. your voice sounded far away. hoping it didn't reveal too much.
"yeah." he laughed once, short and nervous. "but i don't wanna be that guy who has no idea what he's doing. i want it to be good. for her. she's amazing and. . .you're the only person i trust enough to- you know. practice with. if you're still okay with it."
practice.
the word tasted like ash in your mouth.
he didn't know. he had no idea that every time you thought about him your chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with friendship anymore. he didn't know you'd touched yourself to the memory of his hands on your waist during movie nights, imagining them lower.
he didn't know this was going to ruin you.
but you smiled anyway. small. practiced.
"yeah," you said softly. "i'm still okay with it."
his eyes lit up. "seriously?"
you nodded. "if it'll help."
he exhaled like he'd been holding the breath for months. then he leaned in- slow, giving you time to pull away- and kissed you.
the talking was done for. already.
it started gentle. tentative. just lips brushing, testing. his hand found your cheek, thumb stroking soft, you melted into it. when you kissed back he made a quiet sound in his throat, almost a whine before the kiss turned deeper. hungrier.
his tongue slid against yours, heat pooling straight between your legs. you grabbed the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer causing him to groan softly into your mouth.
"do- do you want to go to the bedroom?" he rasped when you broke apart, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard.
"yeah."
you stood on shaky legs and led him upstairs. your heart was slowly, piece by piece falling apart with each step you took.
your childhood bedroom still smelled faintly of lavender from the candle you used to burn when you couldn't sleep. he closed the door behind you with a soft click.
then his hands were everywhere.
he kissed you again- harder this time, backing you toward the bed until your knees hit the mattress. you fell back together, him hovering over you, weight on his forearms so he didn't crush you. his mouth moved to your neck, sucking lightly, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.
"fuck," he breathed against your skin. "you smell so good."
your fingers slid under his hoodie, pushing it up. he helped yank it off, then his shirt, tossing both somewhere behind him. pale skin stretched over lean muscle. you ran your hands down his chest, feeling him shiver.
"your turn," he murmured, fingers catching the hem of your dress.
you lifted your arms and he peeled it off slow, like he was unwrapping something precious. when it hit the floor he just... stared. eyes dark, pupils blown.
"goddamn," he whispered. "you're so fucking pretty."
you were so lost in your thoughts. he never used to talk like this. college had changed him. in small ways, but noticeable enough to hurt.
and the worst of it. you were practice. practice for another girl.
he reached behind you, tearing you from your thoughts. fumbling a little with the clasp of your bra before it came undone. he slid the straps down your shoulders, eyes locked on your chest like he'd never seen anything better.
then his mouth was there- hot and wet. closing over one nipple, tongue flicking, sucking gently while his hand cupped the other, thumb rolling slow circles.
you arched, whimpering his name. " 'toru- "
he hummed, the vibration shooting straight to your core. he switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, teeth grazing just enough to sting sweetly.
your hands were in his hair, tugging lightly. he groaned against you, hips rocking forward once, pressing the hard length of him against your thigh.
"need these off," he muttered, hooking his fingers in your panties.
you lifted your hips and he slid them down your legs, tossing them aside. then he settled between your thighs, broad shoulders spreading you open.
he looked up at you, eyes asking without words.
you nodded, breath hitching.
his first lick was slow- testing. his flat tongue dragging up your slit, tasting you. you moaned, loud and unfiltered. he did it again before focusing on your clit, circling with the tip of his tongue before sucking gently.
"oh fuck- " your hips bucked. he pressed a forearm across your stomach, holding you down while he ate you out like he was starving.
two fingers slid inside you- long, curling just right causing you to cry out, back arching off the bed. he pumped them slow at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit.
"you taste so fucking good," he groaned against you. "could do this all night."
you were shaking, thighs trembling around his head. " 'toru- i-i'm-"
"come for me," he murmured, sucking harder, fingers curling deeper. "wanna feel it."
you shattered. hard. vision whiting out, a broken moan tearing from your throat as you clenched around his fingers, pulsing on his tongue. he worked you through it, licking slower, softer, until you were whimpering from overstimulation.
he kissed up your body- stomach, ribs, between your breasts. until he reached your mouth again. you could taste yourself on him. your release slipping from the tip of his tongue.
"your turn," you whispered, pushing at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back.
you straddled his thighs, tugging his jeans and boxers down together. he kicked them off, cock springing free- thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.
you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slow. he hissed, hips jerking up into your grip.
"fuck- baby- "
the pet name slipped out like he didn't mean to say it. it made your heart clench even as you leaned down. he'd never know how painful this would be for you.
you licked the tip first, tasting salt and him, before taking him into your mouth. slow. shallow at first, then deeper, tongue swirling around the head every time you pulled back.
his hand fisted in your hair- not pushing, just holding. "shit- your mouth- so fucking warm- "
you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, hand working the base in time with your mouth. he groaned your name like a prayer, hips twitching, trying not to thrust too deep.
"wait- wait- " he panted, tugging you off gently. "wanna come inside you. if that's okay."
you nodded, breathless. "yeah."
he grabbed a condom from his wallet- he came prepared. and rolled it on with shaking hands. then he pulled you back over him, hands on your hips.
"you sure?" he asked one last time, voice rough.
"yes."
you sank down slow.
the stretch burned sweetly- he was bigger than your fingers, bigger than your toys. you both groaned when you bottomed out, your hands braced on his chest.
"fuck," he breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second. "you feel- so tight-"
you started moving- small rolls of your hips at first. testing. he groaned again, hands gripping your ass, helping guide you.
then he thrust up- sharp, deep- ripping a gasp from your throat.
"like that?" he rasped.
"yesyes! harder-"
he flipped you suddenly, pinning you beneath him, one of your legs hooked over his hip. the new angle let him go deeper, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.
"fuck-right there" you whimpered, nails digging into his back.
he fucked you harder, steady, relentless. skin slapping, bed creaking, both of you breathing ragged.
his hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing tight circles.
"come with me," he panted against your neck. "wanna feel you-"
you were already close. the pressure built fast, overwhelming.
" 'toru- i'm- "
you came with a sob, clenching hard around him. he groaned loud, thrusts stuttering, then buried himself deep and followed- shuddering, spilling into the condom with a broken moan of your name.
he collapsed on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting. his face tucked into your neck, lips brushing your skin in soft, lazy kisses.
for a minute, it was perfect. quiet. his heartbeat against yours.
then he spoke.
"that was. . .incredible." he lifted his head, smiling soft. "thank you. seriously. utahime's gonna- fuck, i think i'm actually ready now."
your chest caved in.
you forced a smile, small and brittle. "glad i could help."
he kissed your forehead- sweet, affectionate, like it didn't mean anything more than that.
"you're the best," he murmured, rolling off to dispose of the condom.
you stared at the ceiling while he cleaned up in the bathroom, the ache in your chest spreading like ink in water.
he didn't know. he didn't know you look at him like you can see the world in his eyes.
he never would.
and after the weekend he'd go back to her.
while you stayed here, holding the pieces of whatever this was, pretending it didn't hurt.
the bathroom door cracked open, revealing gojo again. now covered with a towel. looking more put together.
“are you okay?” he asks gently, too small for this moment.
you still haven’t moved from where he left you. used. broken.
you force that small smile. it’s perfect. “yeah, i’m okay.”
he doesn’t look convinced but he blinks, quickly wiping away any thoughts that linger behind his eyes.
he cracks a smile. “good, i didn’t want to hurt you”
too little too late for that. were you to blame? should you have mentioned something before he left a year ago?
“you could never, remember?” your eyes are locked on the ceiling. your heart is in pieces lingering on the mattress.
“friends still?” his eyes, unseen by you are latched onto your frame.
synopsis . In which you get fed up with Sato (fratjo) for playing around with you and unintentionally get involved with his identical twin brother Toru (nerdjo), not knowing they’re simply two sides of the same coin.
content . afab!reader, porn with decent plot, messy relationship(s), fratjo’s an asshole in the beginning, bluntness, pervy!nerdjo, eventual threesome, degrading, oral sex, first time squirting & then doing it multiple times, getting caught, surprising dynamics, praise, pussy slapping, getting put in a headlock, confessions, filthy dirty talk, jealousy, marathon sex (gulp), spit, slightly bimbo!reader, choking, nerdjo is feral, full nelson, edging, getting passed around, frajo’s a voyeur, filth, slight angst, cum eating/swallowing, some cuckholding(?), masturbation, a silly ending, etc.
word count . 11.4k | author's note: this ended up being wayyyy longer than i initially thought it would be and it’s overly freaked the fuck out. hope you enjoy!! banner art by Rororogi Mogera. (not proofread—sorry in advance, truly)
In your defense, you didn't think he would care.
Sato Gojo—esteemed member of Sigma Chi, infamously known for his commitment issues, and noted to be the campus playboy—was the last person you thought would care about you sleeping with his twin brother.
Hell, he's also the last person who expected that same brother to be able to get this far with you. Toru is the shyest, dorkiest, and nerdiest part of the Gojo family, what could he possibly have done to catch your eye?
Sato had done his best to keep you away from and unaware of his six-second-younger brother's existence too. Yet somehow, here he is walking in on the two of you fucking in his bed.
Less upset at the sight and more confused, the only thing he wants to know is... what the fuck led up to this pairing?
——
For months and months prior to that, it'd been the same thing between you and Sato.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me, baby. You know you’re my favorite,” He’d say, cooing you with that manipulatively charming voice of his after you’d asked him about yet another woman he was talking to.
You weren't sure why you kept going back to him. He never told you how he felt about you unless he was inside you—and even then you’re certain those feelings were all sex-based and moderately untrue.
Yet something about him kept drawing you back in.
And if you had to guess what exactly it was...
“Fuuck, y’like that don’t you?” He’d groan, having one big hand clasped around your throat as he plowed you into the mattress. Sato rarely ever took his time during sex, too eager to make sure you cum & keep up his reputation of being a good fuck. “Like the way my cock kisses that sweet spot, huh?”
The rhythmic sound of his pelvis smack smack smacking! against your ass echoes throughout the room at a pitch almost louder than your sapped moans. “Mhmm,” You'd hummed in response, fingernails dug into the bedsheets below.
You couldn't bring yourself to think about all the other women that's been in this same exact position before you when his cock was far too busy gliding in and out of your soaking pussy. The same sheets your fingers are clawing at is also clasped in between your teeth tightly, drool wetting up the fabric pathetically due to how good you felt.
Only to be rudely interrupted by his hand gripping at your neck tighter and then tugging the upper half of your body allll the way up—his chest pressing into your back while his dick massages the gushiest spot inside you. “Don’t do that,” Sato huffs with that shit-eating grin on his face, “Speak up, pretty girl. I couldn't hear you.”
“Uhuhh, yes,” You pant, tongue beginning to dangle out of your mouth all whorishly, “I love it, Sato.”
Cocky like always, he'd let off that amused scoff and then nip at your ear playfully, “Yeahh, I know you do. Jus’ can’t get enough of me.”
Thinking back again, he had the biggest ego you’d ever seen.
Sato was tenderly humping the rest of his thick cock into you while you were nice and close, just to realize after the first few thrusts that you were trying to inch yourself away from him—your moans getting airier by the second.
His smile widened, “Hah, where’re you goin’?” He'd only made you cum three times since the two of you got here. Surely that wasn't enough to have you acting like this already. “Look at you, trying to run from me now," Sato scoffed with faux bitterness.
You barely got a moment to process what he was doing before you choked.
Warm lips pressing against your ear, “C’mon, I jus’ want one more outta’ you,” He purred, his arm slow to wrap around your neck while his bulking muscles pressed into the center of your throat. Whatever oxygen was on its way to your head all but died out as the man put you into a bullying chokehold and then flexed.
Your cunt squeaked juicily around him and his cockhead nudged in deeper because of the hold he had on you, otherwise rendering your body unable to escape.
That was one of many reasons why you always ran back to him. If Sato Gojo didn't know how to do anything else right, he damn sure knew how to fuck.
“Mhmm, that’s it, baby." His voice was huskier against your eardrums now and you felt your body shuddering with a sense of numbness as something slicker oozed around his shaft. "Take that fuckin’ cock—juuust like that.”
His thrust became slower while he held you in place and you'd never felt so full in your life. It wasn't until he suddenly snapped up into you that all air left your lungs and your eyes crossed.
Whatever sound you let out was beyond pathetic and only followed by a desperate, “S’too much,” that he could barely hear.
Rolling his eyes, he repeated the motion a few more times at a steady pace, letting you adjust to being arched and folded up how he wants you. “My dramatic girl, acting like you haven't been taking it just fine," He reminded you.
You almost believed him for a moment there until his free hand came snaking around your torso to press against your lower abdomen—right over the bulge his fat cock had created against your skin—and applying an egregious amount of pressure.
“M’gonna cum, Sato,” You cried out as his fingers slithered down to nudge against your clit. Never a firm rub or anything like that since he felt like his cock alone was enough to work what he wanted out of you.
He’d smile all victoriously and whisper, “That's it? Don't tell me you're still too scared to squirt on me?”
Truth be told, that was the one thing he couldn’t do for some reason.
He never said anything but he thinks maybe you’re just one of those women who need a little more effort put into in order to make you squirt. More effort of which he damn sure doesn’t feel like putting in.
Four orgasms in a row? That’s fine, he can do that no problem. Making you squirt? As badly as he wants to deep down inside, he just can’t.
You ended up leaving a creamy mess around his cock but it's not the spurting stream of wetness he was hoping for. After letting you tremble out of your high, he's slow with the way he unwraps his arms from around you.
You fall forward onto the bed and let out a heavy breath before smiling wearily in relief. No other guy on campus ever managed to make you cum even once so of course you didn't think much of the fact that Sato couldn't make you squirt.
Hell, you were unknowingly on the same page with him—thinking you might've needed extra effort put in for that kinda release. Which was fine, you didn't need that much from him. The fact that he could make you cum back to back was more than enough in your book.
Not his though.
Sato hated it. He hated how he couldn't make you squirt—the fact burned at his ego and wounded his pride greatly. He's made other women do it so he doesn't understand what the problem is. There were some nights where he wondered if maybe he was doing something wrong with you. Or maybe you'd found someone else who could—
He unknowingly scoffs at his thoughts, shuffling out of the bed and swiping up the nearest clean sweats to slip into. Who was he kidding? There isn't one other person on campus you'd go to over him.
And if he couldn't make you squirt, he knows there's no one else that could.
Amid his deep thoughts, you happen to look over and catch the way those white brows of his are neatly knitting together. He didn't even realize how his true feelings on the matter were written all over his face.
Your eyes had ran over him a couple times, pondering on all the scratch marks in various places. Places that your hands haven't touched.
And that's how the routine was with the two of you; high tension all throughout the day, let him fuck you 'til all your senses went numb, and then fade into quietness with little to talk about since Sato doesn't deem it necessary to get close with you in that way.
When you catch the way he's dragging his feet around the room, trying to clean the mess of clothes you two made prior to getting in the bed, your brows lifts with curiosity. Asking gently, "Hey, are you alright?"
Sato hums without turning around to you, running his a hand through his hair as if stressed out. "Yeah, m'fine." He grunts, glancing over at you after and adding a slightly comforting, "Are you?"
You nod in response to him and he stares for a moment longer than necessary, still deep in his thoughts about something he surely wasn't sharing with you anytime soon.
Why would he? You didn’t need to know that he was beating himself up over something so stupid. He’s well aware that he’s the best guy to ever sleep with you so, opening up to you about something so trivial wasn’t in his character.
There’d been jokes and banter between the two of you before—obviously—but it never went any further than that. The moment things threatened to dip into something real, something more tender or honest, Sato would shut it down with quick precision.
Which is exactly why you didn't try pressing for more of this dry conversation. Instead, you silently watched him tug a shirt over his head and then head over to the nightstand for his phone.
He's busy texting someone for a bit before he releases a huff and turns his head to see the way you've been quietly watching him, "Did you want me to run you a bath or—"
"No, no, I told you, I'm fine," You unintentionally cut off.
You weren't sure where the awkwardness had come from but it wasn't completely unwelcome since there was clearly something he wasn't telling you. You saw it in the way he pouted all grumpily just before looking at you.
Whatever was on his mind had to be eating him up on the inside.
Not that the frown pushed you to ask him anything else though. You ended up turning over and rolling off is bed a few minutes later to gather your things and leave, to which he'd peacefully helped you with.
Then Sato escorted you all the way out of his maze-like home and was "kind" enough to give you a kiss on the forehead before sending you off.
Little things like that always caught you off guard. Your heart would do that weird thing in your chest as you wondered if there was a possibility of experiencing more than just hook-ups with the man.
Though, reality is quick to slap you back to your senses when you see him with his arm around some other woman the next day while on your way to class.
You knew better than to get emotionally attached to Sato Gojo. Everyone did.
——
Some days later is when shit decides to hit the fan between you two.
It happens so randomly that you almost feel as though you dreamt the whole thing up. The day starting with him texting you to come over that night and somehow ending with you in thwarted tears.
In all the time you spent with Sato, there'd never been a moment where he was blatantly selfish. Something of which surprised you in the beginning of your relationship since he was known to be a fuckboy.
Yet, ending up in his bedroom for the nth time, as his thumb rubbed at your clit with unsteady, jerky motions, appearing otherwise annoyed about something—Sato had been selfish for the first time with you.
Foreplay was skipped entirely and you should've known something was up from that alone.
The most you got out of him prior to being stripped of your clothing was a messy kiss and a barely audible, "Need somethin' from you, baby," grunted into your mouth.
Then you were being carried all the way up to his bedroom, handled frustratedly down into the mattress, and soon fucked at a rate you weren't used to.
His thrusts were sloppy and needy, voice quiet since he didn't bother talking you through it or saying anything at all, and the only thing with a sense of normalcy to it was the way his thumb nudged over your clit as his cock dove in and out of you.
Midway through, you assumed he just had a bad day or something. Figured he wanted to take some of that stress out on you.
And that wasn't out of the ordinary for him, it's happened more often than not.
But as his thumb drew desperate circles around your twitching bud, Sato's cock twitched and he pulled out the moment you were about to cum. You were too dazed by his abrupt action that you nearly missed the way he stroked himself into finishing on your stomach and then scoffed. Bitterly.
Your eyes were glossed over since the taste of your own orgasm had been right there on the tip of your nerves, stripped away from you faster than you could blink.
Whatever had been bothering him about having sex with you was felt before it was understood.
He was already turning away by the time you pushed yourself to sit up, the sheets gliding down your arms as you watched him with wide, teary eyes. The room felt ten times quieter than it normally did. You saw how he crossed the room as if nothing had happened—as if this was just another unremarkable moment to be shrugged off.
"Sato," You say, his name tripping in your throat on the way out.
Only then did he pause, fingers curled around his drawer handle. Not sparing you a glance back, "What." he breathed out.
It was hardly even a response, more of a wall you'd audibly stumbled into. You'd never heard his voice so dull and flat with you.
Swallowing down whatever confusing emotions were building up in your throat, "Did I, um... did I do something wrong?"
Somehow that gets his attention. He glances back over his shoulder then, expression insipid and eyes casting over you all bored-like. "Don't start that," He said, irritation weaving into his voice, "You're overthinking shit already."
Your mouth opens to say something but it's like you'd been slapped in the face, leading your lips to seal shut for a second. His words were too heavy for you, coming off with weighted dismissiveness.
After a few beats, your words trail out slowly, "Sorry I'm a little confused, Sato. You asked me to come over for that..?"
He exhaled sharply, like the question itself had tired him, "What else do I ever call you over for?"
Something shrewd twisted in your chest, "Certainly not whatever the fuck that was just now."
Sato finally turned more fully and leaned back against his dresser, crossing his arms and letting his eyes meet yours firmly. "You sound upset."
"I feel used," You'd snapped back immediately.
His brow twitched, "'Cause I didn't make you cum?"
Again, the words came off blunt and careless.
Leading you to flinch internally, "I mean—yeah," You said as a humorless breath tiptoed out, "You normally do."
"Well, I didn't feel like it today. M'spent." He scoffed out.
It was almost as if that was supposed to be an explanation for everything.
You stared at him and felt the way your disbelief began to fade into something of anger, "You could've told me that."
"Would that have made you feel any better?" Every response came out of him like he'd rehearsed the entire conversation beforehand.
"We could've done something different," Your hands began to curl into the sheets a little, trying to steady yourself. "I could've-"
"I didn't want anything different." Sato cut off crisply.
You'd never been so utterly confused in your life. Everything was fine before this—for the most part—so what had come over him all of a sudden? Why was he acting like this?
The finality in his statement only made your stomach drop, your head shaking slowly in disbelief, "...So you wanted to use m-"
"No, sweetheart," The pet name sounds empty on his tongue, lacking its usual affection. "I wanted you to see how it feels to get into something thinking things are going to go like they always do, just to feel disappointed by the end."
The next sound that spreads throughout the room is your laughter as it exits you in incredulous fashion, "Sato, what the fuck are you talking about?"
He dragged a hand through the white tuffs of his hair, pacing only once before coming to a stop. "You..." Letting his words trail off, he released a long and stressed-out sigh, "Every woman I've been with has never had the problem you do."
That hits you square in the chest.
Head cocking back as you frown with immediate offense flaring over, "Excuse me? Are you... are you talking about squirting, Sato? You can't be serious."
"I am," He said without hesitation. "If it's just something you can't do, I'd rather you tell me than making me look like an idiot when we fuck."
"What?" Your eyes narrowed as your anger bled into something strictly hurt. "I... I'm sure I can. Maybe we're just doing something wro-"
"We?" Sato cuts you off instantly. Then his tone seemed firmer and you knew he didn't think things through when he said, "No, no, you've got shit backwards here. I can assure you I'm not doing anything wrong, that's all you."
Something inside you finally boiled over.
"All me?" You scoffed, pushing yourself out of the bed. The cold air wrapping itself around you felt like even more of a wake-up call than what he'd just said. "Oh, sorry for not being like all the other twenty girls you sleep with."
Grabbing your clothes with uncoordinated and janky movements after wiping away any lingering trace of what had happened, you subconsciously wished you could've erased the moment entirely from start to finish. Your hands trembled as you got dressed, seemingly more from the heated emotions waving through you than the embarrassment.
Sato stiffened upon hearing your words. For the first time—probably in his life—his confidence had cracked. "Shit—wait," He rushed out, trying to step towards you and stop you from leaving.
It was almost like he himself wasn't aware of how severely fucked up his actions and words were.
His hand reached out for your arm, "I-I didn't mean it like that, c'mon. I just—"
"Save it, asshole." You spat back at him, shoving his hand out the way and storming out his room before giving him a chance to say anything else.
He'd said more than enough to have your vision blurry and heart pounding in your chest as if pained.
The hallway was dim, your footsteps quickened to carry you as far away from him as possible, and your emotions buzzed all too loudly in your ears for you to think straight. You think you hear something clash against the wall back in Sato's room but you ignore it.
You're so wrapped up in your feelings that you're not even paying attention to where you're going. You only made it a few steps down the hall before you collided with something solid.
Someone solid.
Gasping as you stumble back, a pair of hands come up to steady you. "Ah, sorry," a voice hums out to you. The sound is soft as it reverberates throughout the hallway but your chest feels as though it's caving inwards since the guy in front of you sounded exactly like Sato.
There was a pitch of unfamiliarity in it, though. One that made you look up.
For a moment, you thought maybe you'd fallen off the bed earlier and that everything thus far had been some type of hallucination because surely Sato wasn't standing right in front of you right now.
...Except, with glasses? And a dorkier look in his eyes?
With the same snowy white hair, the same perfectly sharp jawline—that's somehow a tad softer—and the same dazzling blue eyes, he stared at you all longingly as if an angel had fallen right into his arms or something. The only difference between him and his brother being the black glasses sitting center on the bridge of his nose.
Despite the hallway's lack of lighting, you swear you see his cheeks flush with red as the moment of exchanged staring passes.
Prior to this, you'd only ever heard rumors of Sato having a twin brother but you never once imagined those would turn out to be true. The man's eyes widen slightly as he really looks at you, confusion flickering across his face whilst he takes in your flushed skin, the way your clothes are hanging off of you as though you'd rushed to put them all, and how your eyes are somberly glossed over.
"I-," You try to blink that wetness out of your gaze and then clear your throat. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."
"It's fine," He replies as he thoughtlessly continues to hold onto your arms. Then, uncertainly, "You're... Sato's, uh—"
"Sato's what?" You cut off harsher than you meant to.
There was no way he was about to refer to you as that asshole's girlfriend or anything like that, right?
His mouth visibly goes taut, realizing he was about to step into something fragile. Instead of responding, he just stands there awkwardly enough to piss you off even more.
Groaning, you push past him and continue storming down the hall. You didn't have time for whatever that was about to turn into.
Unbeknownst to you, he'd stood there and watched as you walked away—cursing himself out for letting his opportunity to talk to you pass him by like that. He'd known who you were for months prior to this. Out of all the women Sato brought over, you were the only one Toru took a genuine interest in.
It's unfortunate for him that Sato's a stingy asshole who doesn't care to introduce the two of you. Because of that, Toru had to go out of his way just to get glimpses of your personality.
He was always home when Sato brought you over, always in his room that's just one wall over while the two of you fucked—listening and secretly getting off to those gorgeous moans you let off. Toru knew it was perverted of him to do so, but he truly couldn't help himself.
Now here he is with sagging shoulders at the fact that he totally fucked up his first interaction with you.
He heard the whole argument between you and his brother and came out into the hallway hoping to come to your rescue or at least cheer you up, even if only for a second. Yet, all he managed to do was piss you off with his awkwardness and lack of confident social skills.
After a few minutes, Toru straightens up and settles his jaw in a way that says he'd made some type of silent decision. That wasn't going to be the last time he interacted with you—no matter how badly his brother fucked up—he knew you'd be back eventually.
As he turns back to his room, he promises to himself that next time he sees you, he won't hesitate or fumble things with you.
——
A few weeks pass before anything else noteworthy occurs.
In that time, things between you and Sato remain rocky, to say the utmost least. Conversations between the two of you were more careful, apologies came far slower than they should've, and some semblance of trust had been rebuilt in uneven steps.
Sometimes he was sweet and more attentive than he had been before that big argument, kinda like he was afraid it'd happen again. Other times he'd slip up and those old habits would seep through, any excuse he gave you dressed up charmingly enough for you to ultimately end up forgiving him again.
The fact that you both were trying had to be enough to count for something, otherwise the two of you were better off calling it quits months ago.
Somewhere in the middle of that relationship, Toru became familiar to you. You went out of your way to see him whenever you visited the Gojo estate, even if you were only there for Sato.
He was almost always cooped up in his room, drowning himself in his studies—textbooks stacked neatly on his desk, handwritten notes color-coded and meticulously organized.
It wasn't long before you realized he and his brother were complete opposites. Where Sato excelled in partying and socializing, Toru peaked in academics and hobbies that were far more niche.
You remember poking your head into his room one time to say hi and catching him lost in Digimon reruns with strategy guides pulled up on his nearby laptop. He was so engrossed in it that he hadn't even heard you saying something to him.
Situations like that are what got the two of you to be something close to friends.
Though, you still didn't know him any more than you knew Sato. You were still kept at an arm's length from either of their personalities beyond what was noticeable. Sato made sure of that where both he and his twin were concerned.
While he did soften up with you, he still wasn't interested in keeping you that close—not close enough to know him. And he damn sure wouldn't let you go off and try to find that in Toru.
Anytime you and the nerdier Gojo sibling were alone, Sato was intruding minutes later. Always interrupting.
Even when you ran into Toru on campus.
One time when you found him outside the library, standing near a vending machine and ran up to talk to him, Sato seemed to spawn out of thin air with his arm around you is if to silently tell his brother to fuck off.
You weren't sure what had gotten into him as far as that was concerned. He didn't care when you talked to anyone else.
This was but another unfortunate thing for you since you were quite fond of Toru. He remembered little things about you; your major, your favorite cafe, and even your preferred place to sit in lecture halls.
If you asked Sato questions about any of those things, he'd probably shrug and ask you why any of it matters in the first place.
But you bet that dick for brains could tell you which position makes you cum the fastest...
It's regrettably because of that as to why you're currently standing at the large front doors to his home, having rung the bell only a few seconds ago due to an earlier text requesting you come over.
In said text, Sato promised that he only wanted to talk to you and you chose to believe him.
Just for Toru to swing the door open with a surprised look on his face.
"Oh, hey." He began, pushing his glasses further up on his face so that he could get a proper look at you. "If you're looking for Sato, he's not here. I actually think he's been gone for the past three hours or so."
Disappointment settles into you and you roll your eyes, already annoyed. "Of course he has," You sigh.
Toru offers you a half-comforting grin before stepping back a bit and opening the door wider for you, "He'll probably be back soon though, if you wanna come in?"
You debated leaving but the prospect of being able to spend some alone time with Toru is what swayed you into staying.
Which is how you ended up in their living room.
The rest of the house was quieter than Sato ever allowed it to be. There was no music blaring, none of his restless pacing or constant yammering about fuck knows what. The only thing heard was the low hum of the TV ahead of you and Toru.
He'd put on a movie a few minutes ago and although you'd agreed to watch it with him, you kept glancing towards the front door hoping to see Sato walk in any moment now.
It never happens.
Sitting on the opposite ends of the couch, you and Toru are steady to find comfort in one another's presence. You eventually let yourself focus on what he'd put on, snorting whenever he laughed at the unfunniest bits of it and finding yourself mused by the easiness of it all.
You noticed how Toru also tried to sneak his eyes onto you here and there, lacking that smoothness his slightly older brother had and always catching your attention when he did it.
The two of you even shared those warm moments where you'd catch him staring and then whisper, "What, is something on my face?"
To which he'd swallow thickly and shake his head, "No, not at all. Sorry..."
His shyness is probably what drew you in the most about him. You loved how often he avoided eye contact with you, how gentle his voice always came out, and the way he'd begin to adjust himself against the couch due to the smallest of things.
The night was going well enough for you to forget all about—
Your phone rang and Sato's name was lighting up your screen.
At the sight, your shoulders went tense and you were unsure if you should answer it or not. Toru looked over at you but he didn't say anything.
The movie continued to play ahead as you picked up the phone and quietly spoke to Sato, "What?"
Whatever was said to you on the other end made your jaw clench—something of which Toru noted instantly. He didn't mean to be nosy but it was hard not to when minutes passed and you were clearly getting frustrated about your conversation.
"You sound drunk," You're heard muttering, making Toru's ears perk up and then strain to hear more.
Sato is just barely heard grumbling in response, "M'not drunk, baby."
Your shoulders slump, "Did you even mean to text me?"
There's a long pause. Toru tenses up and Sato's heard burping.
"I texted you?" The man on the phone asks, making your entire mood sink. "Hahhh, fuck. I don' remember doing that.. What uh, what'd I say?"
"You said you needed to talk." You reply rigidly.
He nods even though you can't see him, "Ah... I mean, I do need to talk to you but," Pausing to grumble, "Don't see why I didn't jus' call.. Anyway, s-so yesterday I was with this girl 'n she said m'not doin' anything wrong."
His early attempt at trying to convince you he wasn't drunk fell flat in that instant. You stare into space for a moment, "What?"
"Remember how we got into it about your squirting problem?" Sato blurts out in response.
You could feel yourself getting irritated with him all over again. You hated the way he said that like it was truly an issue on your end alone, even though the two of you have talked about it after the argument.
"My squirting problem? You mean the fact that you can't get me there?" You snapped back, matching his energy for just a second and unintentionally gaining the dull attention of his nosy brother.
At this point, you don't think you cared whether or not he overheard.
"No, no, I cannnn..." Sato drags out drunkenly. Then you hear this giggle in the background before he adds, "This girl told me it really is you 'n not me. Because like-"
You hang up the phone before he can continue.
The last thing you wanted to do was entertain whatever the fuck he was about to tell you for any longer than you had to. Your phone falls down into your lap and you feel it buzzing a few seconds later but you only swipe it back up to silence it entirely.
After which, the room falls into a thick quietness that swallows up both you and Toru. Even the movie playing ahead had switched to a soundless scene that only added to the shift in moods.
A few minutes of this stillness pass before you feel the weight on the other side of the couch shifting. Your eyes flick over and you see him readjusting himself in his seat.
You don't question it nor say anything but his sudden movements do manage to pull you out of your funk for a second. Ignoring it, you pick your phone back up to see that Sato had texted you a bunch of gibberish—the only sensible message you can make out being one of him begging you to text or call back.
As soon as you start typing, his twin decides to clear his throat again.
“I mean, it can’t be that hard.” Toru says all timidly, his words catching enough to snag your attention away from your phone.
Your thumb goes idle against the screen and you look up at him to see his cheeks colored over with bright red. He was looking off to his left and you could tell by the rapid rise and fall of his chest that his breathing had gone off-track.
Clearly, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
You chuckle as if intrigued by his words, humming, “Your brother said the same thing."
Toru scoffs and then speaks without thinking again, “He doesn’t care enough.”
Cocking a brow, “Doesn’t care enough to make me squirt?” You ask.
The sound of the man’s breath hitching was clearer than the dense tension between you both. “Obviously not,” Toru continues, lifting two slim fingers up to the center of his glasses to adjust them against his nose. “If he did, he would’ve made sure you… uh, did that.”
Never would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with the same man who can barely look you in the eye. But it was clear something had changed. Even in his body language, you saw how he'd sat up a bit straighter against the couch and let his legs sprawl out wider—almost invitingly so.
He was still avoiding your gaze but the sturdiness in his voice is what intrigued you the most.
“Did what, Toru? Say it,” You pressed, putting your phone down and turning on the couch to face him fully.
You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with the way he gulped thickly. “He would’ve uhm..." Toru pauses to take a deep breath—mentally reminding himself that he swore not to embarrass himself in front of you again—and then clears his throat one more time, "He would've made sure you squirted.”
Too shy to look at you just yet, he misses how the look in your eyes changes entirely. It was like seeing him in a new light.
Not that you hadn't thought about it before. He does look exactly like Sato and there's been a few times where you've wondered what it'd be like to be the cause of his glasses going crooked 'n foggy.
Biting back a smile, “Well, he makes me cum a lot.” You explain to him casually. Certainly Toru wouldn't have started talking to you about this if he didn't at least have some advice for you, “Like, back to back.”
He nods, nimble fingers fidgeting over one another in his lap, “Then, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
You bat your lashes at him all cluelessly, “But—“
“As I said the first time,” Toru looks at you all of a sudden, his eyes mildly terrified behind his frames despite the attempt of confidence spreading over his face. There was a devilishly sexy blend of sureness and hesitancy plastered all over his features, “It can’t be that hard.”
The direct eye contact and few inches of space between where you two were sitting made everything feel hot all of a sudden. Blush melts itself into his skin again and it was clear that this initiated flirting of his was a first time thing.
You knew Toru found you intimidating and that subconsciously accepted fact only made you want to see more. More of your affect on him.
Sliding closer to him on the couch, your voice slyly dips into something more taunting, “You sound like you wanna try.”
Watching the way his jaw flexes, teeth tightly gritted within his mouth, and throat struggling to conceal the high-pitched sound that threatened to jump out of him—your affect on the man was as clear as day.
Somehow, Toru manages to maintain his confident facade, “Would you let me if I did?”
“Do you?” You ask quicker than he expects you to.
His head felt like it was spinning already. Is this what it's like to do drugs? Does his brother get to experience this all the time?
Toru gulps again, “Do I.. what?”
Now he was playing dumb on purpose, as if he wasn't the one who commenced this whole thing with his earlier statement.
Which makes you giggle, “You’re the smartest guy I know, Toru." Your compliment makes his heart skip a few beats. Then your head tilts and your tone softens, "Don’t start acting dumb just to appeal to me.”
He bats those pretty white lashes at you with his eyes all doe-like on you for a moment before he looks down, “I just… I wanted to hear you say it.”
You stand up from the couch all of a sudden and he freezes up. Then you walk over and stand right in between his legs, moving a hand to his chin and forcing his head up. “Do you wanna try making me squirt?”
Toru shakes his head and your brows furrow. His face nuzzles into your hand, forcing it to spread open as his cheek presses into your palm, “It’s not something to be tried, it’s just something I can do for you.” He explains.
Your thumb brushes against his cheek and his glasses slip down his nose a bit. Smiling, “Someone's confident.”
He merely whispers, “‘Can’t be that hard.”
——
Ten minutes later and you're wondering why he wasn't the first Gojo twin you met.
Loong fingers stretching your pussy out crudely, hot tongue attacking your clit like he wanted to lick you into numbness, and eyes still doe-like as they remain glued up on your face—Toru was nothing like his slightly older brother.
No, no, he aimed not only to please but to learn how you like to be pleased.
Whereas Sato would just sleep with you the same way he did with anyone else—beyond confident in his own abilities to bring a woman pleasure—Toru was the kinda man who took his time to work you up specifically.
“Taste s’good,” He praised in a tone deeper than you knew to be capable from him. You were laying across the couch now and he was stuffed neatly in between your legs. Whining, “More,” as he tugged at your thighs, his jaw going slack, and his mouth smearing against your cunt. “Gimme’ more—mmpfh. Please?"
You weren't sure what more he could be referring to when his fingertips were already twirling something sinful against your g-spot. You had a hand buried into his hair, your other behind you as you held onto the couch to steady yourself with the way he feasted on you as if your pussy was the best thing to wet up his tongue.
“Ah, T-Toru, fuck!” You cried out, unconsciously pulling away from him when his fingers focused in deep against that soppy spot—addicted to the way your slick gushed out around his hand and left a sweet mess against the couch.
His fingers leave your insides for only a second and a half before he's shoving them into his mouth to suck the taste off. Toru's eyes rolled back for a moment before he let both of his hands redirect to your inner thighs and then spread you out wider just so nothing was obstructing your view of the way he sloppily kissed your cunt.
Small strings of aroused filth would hang in between his mouth and your puffy pussylips, all of which would get licked off by his eager tongue before he dove back in for more.
Before you'd let him make his way down there, you recall the way he oh-so-awkwardly kissed you. He hardly had a clue what to do with his tongue when it was against yours but now that he was in between your legs, he became an entirely different person.
Suckling the dewy tastes into his mouth and guzzling it down his throat just to let it linger, Toru was nothing short of desperate to make you feel good. So much so that his brain practically turns off as he moves his hands to grip your hips and then lifts the lower half of your body up against his face.
His mouth nuzzled harder against you and you felt the wiggling tip of his tongue slap against your clenching walls. He softly humped the couch as he ate you out, letting the sounds of your moans coax him into giving you everything he could.
Toru only pulled away from your cunt when his glasses fogged up too much for him to see your face. And before you could offer to wipe them off or anything, you met his gaze with the way his head angled for you to do so.
His voice deep and aching, “Sit on my face,” He requested before whining again. “Pleasepleaseplease,” the man panted almost puppy-like and then seared his next words right into your clit with the edge of his tongue, “Need it s’bad.”
You don't think you had it anywhere in you to deny him when he was asking so nicely like that.
But by the time the two of you had flipped over and you were left hovering over his pleasantly flushed face—his shaky hands tight against your hips—you were a little too nervous to sit down.
Toru had caught his breath by now but nothing about his starved appetite had changed. Those previously soft blue eyes of his seemed to pierce straight through you in a way that Sato's sometimes would. You know they're twins and all but fuck, it was nerve-wracking to experience that hungry look from the alleged "shy" twin.
“Ride it," Toru husked out all of a sudden, giving your body the faintest pull.
Your eyes went all wide, “…Your mouth?”
Instead of clarifying things or being patient with you, he snatches your frame down with a strength you didn't know he possessed. Moaning before your core even reaches his lips again, “Want you to feed your pussy to me.”
Then he was practically suctioned to you again, eyes rolling back far enough for the whites to be visible beneath the foggy frames of his glasses.
“Ohfuck,” You cry out, the upper half of your body slumping forward a bit as your thighs squeeze around his head.
You felt the way Toru smiled at the feeling, almost like he was exactly where he'd wanted to be. His tongue skated up into you with a vigor you'd never felt before.
The man ate pussy like he wanted the results of your release plastered all over those pretty glasses of his, leaving him with sogged vision and a numbed tongue. It was yet another thing that made him so much different than his brother because although that man had stamina like no other and knew how to use his cock, he never once ate you out.
Meanwhile Toru couldn’t seem to get enough.
He even left a needy smack to your ass, encouraging you to do as he initially asked of you and ride his face. It wasn’t until his tongue was constantly plunging past your glissading folds that you unconsciously rolled your hips forward and earned a whimper from him in response.
Then the hands on your hips began to tug at you again, not even begging you for more but demanding it now.
You could no longer focus on the way he looked with splashes of your slick spread out on his glasses in nasty droplets since the tip of his nose had bumped up against your clit, and his jaw went slack just to adhere to your drooling nerves.
The sensation made your entire body flinch, but he wouldn’t let you pull up. For the nth time, you were stunned by Toru’s strength.
His tongue was thick and gathering against your pussy, not letting a singular drop of your taste escape his mouth until something light ghosted out of you.
“S-Something feels-, nngh,” Your struggles were just the cutest thing. “Different.” You tried to warn him.
His head tilted slightly and you felt his lips curve against you again as he smiled knowingly. Plucking his mouth away from you for the first time in forever with a wet pop!, Toru let his warm breath pat your quivering hole as he whispered, “It’s supposed to feel different, sweet girl. That’s what happens when you come to the right twin.”
Cocky. You never knew Toru had that in him—must be a trait that runs into family.
Except, it’s not like he was wrong. Once he lathered his tongue back in and sucked on your cunt like it was the only thing keeping him sane, you felt that coiling burn building up inside you. You knew you were gonna squirt despite never experiencing it before.
But it felt like too much, made you feel dirty as you neared that shattering edge. So much so that you tried so hard to snatch yourself away from Toru, whining excessively only for each sound to fall on completely deaf ears.
Your legs had clamped around his head so tight that he was getting lightheaded from his lack of oxygen—not that he cared. He had one singular goal and nothing was gonna stop him from reaching it.
It wasn’t long before it happened as his complimenting moans turned into graveling groans. The sounds vibrated against your pussy and you were tongue-fucked right into something blissful. Bleary white streaks coated your vision and you think you would’ve fallen over if not for the mean grasp he had on you.
Toru had done it, he managed to make you squirt.
By the time your brain feels like it’s functioning enough to hold a conversation, you let your vision come back to you and look down to see his soaked face.
His eyes are dazed whilst they peer up at you, appreciation swirling through his pupils. Those same glasses you’ve managed to squirt over are now crooked and you wonder if that’s from the way you unconsciously started rutting your hips forward just a few minutes ago.
Toru didn’t do anything but pant heavily—his breath stuttering here and there due to how long he went without breathing properly. When he finds the energy to send you another boyish grin, you feel a wave of embarrassment flutter over.
“Shit,” You huff, slowly moving from over his face and then grabbing his glasses.
With his face revealed, you saw how unfairly pretty he was with content written into his skin.
Then he chuckles softly, “You don’t have t’clean those.” Toru tells you, tone mumbled.
You were trying to wipe his glasses off with your shirt but he’d moved his hand to your wrist to stop you.
“I like the mess,” he added.
After which you’re stuck staring at him while he takes the wet glasses out of your hand and puts them back on his face. Surely there’s some hygienic concerns to take into consideration here but he’s not at all worrying about that right now.
Not with the painfully hard cock he’s got twitching in between his legs.
He wasn’t gonna tell you out of fear you’d assume he was some kinda loser (he is) but, not only did he cum half-way through eating you out, he also got hard again when that messy stream came pouring out of you.
Toru’s never made a woman squirt before but he did study enough videos to—clearly—figure out how it’s done. He didn’t think it would work so easily with you since all he had to use was his tongue but considering the way you just-
“Can you do that again?” Your voice hits his ears all of a sudden and his eyes widen.
“W-What?” Toru chokes, “You uh, you want me to make you squirt again?”
You nod and then move to sit back a little, not exactly in his lap but still close enough for your body heat to mingle. Your finger trails down the center of his torso slowly as you speak, “It felt really good. I wanna do it again,” You requested almost innocently. “But, on your cock this time.”
He doesn’t know how he managed not to cum at the sound of that.
Toru knew you were bold, he knew you could be a bit of a ditz at time, but fuck—did you have any idea of the things you were asking for sometimes?
Mustering up that faux confidence from before, he leans up and hums. “Alright, yeah… I can do that.” He thinks. Not that he’ll admit his lack of assuredness to you though. His hands simply move against your body and you hardly realize what’s going on until he’s swooped you up in his arms. “But not here.”
You blink dumbfoundedly, “Why not?”
“I have a better idea.”
——
When he said that, you didn’t think the better idea in question would be having sex in his brother’s room.
You recognized the path there as Toru carried you, felt the familiarity when he laid you down on the bed, and smelled the same scent of Sato lingering around even as Toru tried to distract you with kisses.
It seemed to be surprise after surprise with this man.
“I think after all the times I’ve had to hear the two of you fuck,” Toru’s hands were running down your body—his touch smoother than his brother’s ever were. “It’s only fair that I make you squirt in the same place he never could, right?”
Too many thoughts of sin swirled in your head for you to answer that properly so all you did was nod your head again. Which was yet another thing he found cute.
It’s no wonder Sato kept you to himself all this time.
That realization becomes even clearer by the time Toru’s got his cock freed from his clothing, his pinkish tip dribbling precum down onto your cunt while he gapes at the sight.
With his clothes all gone, you realized that he’d been hiding a ripped body under all those baggy, nerdy-branded tees he wore. His muscles would flex without him even trying and he didn’t even notice how badly you were drooling over him until he stopped looking at your weeping hole and remembered to redirect his gaze up.
Seeing how you’re staring at his abs like you wanted to take a bite out of him, he leaned all the way up and allowed himself to be on full display for you. His cock bobbed with its hardness due to the way you admired him.
He was only reminded again that his brother got this time and time again and was too selfish to share.
What an asshole.
Toru scoffed and let his head cock to the left, peaking down at his length still hanging over your lower abdomen. “Hm,” His hand moved and he began to measure himself in comparison to how deep inside you he’d be within the next few minutes—hand stopping only a few inches short of your belly button. “Does he reach this far?”
You flinched out of your gawking thoughts and moved your attention to where his hand was, gasping at the debauched sight in between your legs.
Truth be told, the fact that they were twins clearly applied to every inch of their bodies. But if you looked hard enough, you could notice that Sato’s is a bit longer while Toru’s has that veining thickness.
To avoid making the man jealous, you shrug and make eye contact with him again, “Put it in and find out.”
Toru laughs dryly and you throb. Something had changed from before. His shyness seemed like it hid itself away considering there was nothing shy about how he wrapped his hand around his cock and then let it slap slap slap! against your swollen folds.
Your body twitched at each slap but what caught his attention most is how your cunt salivated with each one.
“Huh. I think I figured it out,” Toru breathed, his glasses slipping a bit.
Then he guides his dick up to swab around your clit for a couple seconds just to see the way your hips instantly squirm up for more. The smile that drags out across his face is chillingly close to the one Sato wears while he fucks you.
“There it is,” Toru whispers, hauling his cock down and letting his plump tip poke against your hole to feel you clench, and then slide back. “That’s what you like. You like being teased.”
You were so needy that you felt your slick wetly sliding down your skin to pool beneath you, “N-No, I just—“
“Shhh, focus on how this feels, pretty girl.” He instructs. All the shakiness you normally heard in his speech was gone and replaced with something sinfully commanding—yearning only to teach you true pleasure. “See how my cock keeps slipping out? Mmgh,” He repeated his action from before and your hips bucked for more this time, making him huff. “Don’t you want it inside you sooo badly?”
Your hand reached down for him, trying your damndest to angle him into you, “I do. Toru please,” You pleaded delightfully.
His naturally submissive nature leads him to slip an inch in but the dewy warmth of your pussy makes him let out a stuttered gasp. Then he lets his cock slop right out of you with another ringing sound of filth spurring out into the air. His deft cockhead thwacks at your quivering hole again and your eyes roll back.
"Say that again." Toru grunts, slapping your parted folds with his cock again to emphasize his words, "Beg me for it."
Your back arches up off the bed this time and you’ve got the prettiest look of desperation on your face, "Mnh, please?"
Fuck. He was not strong enough to drag this out any longer.
Nor was he reader for how welcoming your cunt is for him. Swallowing him in inch by stretching inch, Toru’s left with a slacked jaw as he finally slides into you. Choking on his own breath, “O-Ohh… Oh fuck.” he pants, “You’re so wet. F-Fuck, were you always this wet? Shit..”
You let off a pleasant string of moans that make his cock twitch wildly inside you before he even makes it halfway in.
Managing a short breath, you smile up at him, “Didn’t know you could curse s’much, Toru.”
He knew right then and there he was fucked.
“G-Gonna cum,” He whimpers as he drops his face down into your neck. The singular utterance of his name is what did it for him.
You thought he was just being dramatic but when you feel velvety ropes of creamy cum flooding into you followed by his throaty grunts against the crook of your neck, you realize he was being everything but.
The man could barely move his hips and all he had to offer you was thick loads in sporadic spurts and whiny groans.
By the time you feel his cum escaping where the two of you are still connected, you’re slow to snort, “…Toru?”
“Shit,” He gasps immediately, “Shitshitshit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to cum,” His head flies up, white hairs sticking to his forehead from sweat and eyes all wide and apologetic on yours, “I just-, you felt so good. I couldn’t-, fuck. I’m—“
“It’s okay,” You giggle, moving your hands to cup his face, “Just keep goin’.”
“But-,” His eyes travel back and forth between your own as he continues to stare. It takes Toru a long moment to realize he’s… still hard.
With a breathless oh tumbling out of his kiss-bitten lips, he rolls his hips forward and pushes his cum deeper into you as a creamy squelch rings out. “O-Ohh, fuck. That sounds s’nasty...” He murmurs, arousal decorating his expression from the sound.
“Mhm,” You whir, tugging him down to kiss you.
If Sato had good stamina then, as twins, Toru should too, right?
A very intimate mess of his hips rocking down into you carries on with your lips sliding over one another. Unlike his older sibling who typically fucked like his every thrust guaranteed pleasure (it did), Toru moved inside you in the same way his mouth moved over yours—awkward but careful.
The streeeetch from his cock definitely made up for his lack of hurried strokes since his steady pace forced you to feel every prodding inch.
He may not have lasted long inside you without cumming but he was able to bring you to an orgasm of your own, whispering things into your mouth about how perfect you were—how his brother never deserved any of this.
It made your heart feel heavy and your cunt sloppily sang around his cock up until the sound of something dropping made you both gasp.
“What the fuck.” Sato’s voice was heard seething, having dropped the bag he had hanging off of his shoulder.
When Toru pulls away from you and glances back, you manage to move your head enough to catch a glimpse of how Sato stuck was staring at the way his twin steadily fucking you to gentle tears.
“S-Sato,” You sputtered out, suddenly feeling Toru’s hand move to press down your lower abdomen—tightening the pressure around his cock and making him feel impossibly bigger inside you. “Ohmygod-,” Both men heard the way you choked, “M’gonna cum.”
Only to be interrupted by Toru scoffing, "Not yet. Someone has to teach this guy how to make you squirt, right?"
“No one has to teach me shit,” Sato argued as he fully entered his bedroom.
What a sight—his own brother fucking his favorite girl. Sato never thought he’d see the day, honestly.
Hell, he didn’t even know what to say. The sight of you two wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Toru had his face so it was like seeing himself fuck you. But, y’know, with glasses…
“Clearly someone does,” Toru’s delayed response came after he’d tugged his cock out of you, watching his cum sap out and soil his brother’s bedsheets. “Especially if I was able to do it.”
Rolling his eyes, “Bullshit.” Sato spat without letting his brother’s words register properly. When they finally do, an appalled expression colors over him, “Wait, what? No way, show me.”
Toru moves a hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking off to the side dorkishly, “Uh, we didn’t record it or anything–”
“No, I mean do it again, four eyes.” His older brother clarifies rudely.
You sit up at that. Glancing back and forth between the two for a moment and then settling your eyes onto Sato, “What?”
“I don’t believe him,” Sato huffs as comes to sit on the edge of his bed. Throwing his eyes onto you, “So, if he really made you squirt then surely he has no issue doing it again.”
You blink. “You want him to do that in front of you?”
“I want to see you squirt, period,” He admits, “I don’t care who gets it outta’ you at this point.”
You and Toru then exchange glances before looking at him.
“Well?” Sato scoffs. “If you’re gonna go out of your way to fuck in my bed, don’t stop now that I’m here. Put on a fuckin’ show for me.”
Ever so demanding he was…
——
Not that you or Toru seemed to care.
The next position you end up in is rather… precarious, to say the least.
You thought you were left stretched before but that feeling was utterly pale in comparison to what you felt now. Toru had you bouncing up and down his heavy cock, letting it talk you through every pummeling thrust by leaving sweltering smooches against the deepest crevices of your cunt.
Your maw was left to dangle open and you looked like a true slut in the eyes of the Gojo twins. As one fucked you beyond dumb, the other was sat in front of you with his hands wrapped around his shaft, his palm running up and down that wildly long cock of his as sticky precum glistened out from his tip.
Drool and spit trickled all down your jaw and fell onto the floor below and you couldn’t move in any way to escape Toru’s desperate thrusts.
The sound of sweaty skin slacking and clashing against one another echoed through Sato’s large bedroom whilst he watched and got off to the sight.
Your arms and legs were locked firmly in Toru’s grip and he was just using your pussy to satisfy that swollen ache he’d been dealing with for fuck knows how long now.
The remnants of his cum sobbed downwards and left a messy ring around his base, the pearly color nearly mocking the white happy trail of hair he had.
"Tighter-, hahh.. squeeze around me tighter, please." Toru muttered into your ear, having found himself pussydrunk and slopped. The walls of your pussy narrowed around him and his hips snapped up a little faster, "Good girl, just like that. F-Fuuck... you're gonna make me c-cum." Toru whimpered.
A singular gasp of, "Inside.” from your horribly sore throat makes both him and his brother groan.
"Again? Shiit," Toru sent a bragging smile ahead before bucking his hips up into you faster as if to prove a point. Still talking into your ear, "Y'want me to breed you in front of Sato? Damn, you're sluttier than I thought you'd be."
You feel his weighty balls pounding up against your skin as his cock bullied in deeper, your pussy stretched into the prettiest shape and molded perfectly around him.
Sato couldn’t take his eyes off the errotic sight and his hand moved faster, his own hips thrusting up as he reminisced on that feeling of positioning into you. The man swears he could feel you wrapped around him just from watching his brother handle you.
It was so different to see things from this perspective but fuck was it sexy. Your tits bounced as Toru dragged you up up upp and then let his hips meet you halfway with a needy thrust as he let your body come back down.
"Mmngh, Toru!" You moaned softly.
To which his teeth nipped at your ear, "It's so cute when you say my name like that," He huffs, "Do you like me that much? Hm? Like the way Toru treats this pussy?"
You weakly moved your head in agreement, tears running down your cheeks, "Uhuhh… f-fuuuck, Toru. M’cummin.”
His movements grew faster then, ruder. The plump crown of his cock mashed into that sweet spot of yours over and over and over as if to make the spot his new home—imprint himself there permanently.
Breathing all heavy against you, “S’okay, let it out, sweetheart. Show him what he should be making you do, yeah?”
Sato cums a split second before it actually happens, based on the fact that it was about to happen. Thank god you were too drunk to see it because he’s watching with teary eyes as you squirt all over Toru—his dick slipping out of you because of it and the mess spraying ahead filthily.
Your pussy quivers from the release and you’re whining all through it, the cooing sound of Toru whispering you through your high prominence in your ear. You could barely think, barely breathe because of the intensity of it all.
When you calm down from it, Toru’s still got you in his arms and all you’re left to focus on is Sato’s pouty face as he continues to stroke himself.
“Well, fuck. Look at you,” He spoke hoarsely the moment he noticed your attention on him, his head resting back against his headboard, “Just a whore for some Gojo cock, huh?”
Your head barely bobs in response—far too dazed to answer that with a properly functioning brain.
Sato’s hand squeezes around his tip and his brows furrow, “Yeahhh? Y’liked watching me jerk off like some pathetic loser while I let my brother fuck you?” He hardly waited for another answer out of you before nodding his chin, “Bet you do. Look at that pussy, so fuckin’ wet from this.”
Toru’s easing you down on the bed in between the both of them, puffing, “Unfair of you to keep her all to yourself, Sato.”
Keeping things simple, “I’m willing to share now.”
…
Things should have ended there. Seriously.
But, allas, the hold these two have over you appeared to be much stronger than you thought.
“Wrap those lips around me, baby.” Sato had requested, watching your shaky limbs move in between his legs.
Toru was somewhere behind you, diving his face back into your cunt to… clean the mess he left in there, apparently.
Out of both of them, Toru was definitely the more perverted one—currently eating his own cum out of your cunt after giving you some bullshit excuse about wanting to keep you clean.
All he wanted was to stick his tongue inside you again. You weren’t that dumb.
While you gathered Sato’s cock into your palm and let your lips press into his tip, he hissed as his face twisted up due to sensitivity. Easing a hand onto your head, “Atta girl. Choke on this dick while he cleans you up. Wanna see every inch down that throat.”
His words never failed to leave your cunt soused, a physical reaction of which met Toru’s compliant tongue.
Sato’s bed was a mess of all sorts of fluids—overly due for a washing after all that had taken place thus far. His cock was somewhere in the back of your throat and he felt your moans tremble against him whenever Toru slurped against you just right.
The three of you were lazy with everything by now and the only thing that made the Gojo siblings perk up was when you ended up gifting Toru’s mouth with another raining mess.
Oh, Sato was in awe at the sight all over again. So much so that it’s what caused his next orgasm. He was so dazed by your squirting that he didn’t even bother to ask you to swallow what he’d just unconsciously thrusted into your throat.
Normally that’s his favorite part; watching or asking you to swallow his seed. Yet, he’d missed all of that because seeing his brother’s face smothered in your wetness left him shocked.
“Ohhh, shit. That was more than the first time.” Toru said as he finally pulled himself from in between your legs.
Sato’s ears twitch and he cocks a brow. Daze broke completely, “First time?” he asked. It was clear he still didn’t believe that his geeky, clumsy, and overall awkward sibling made that happen before he walked in.
Toru looks at his brother, “Yeah… More than the first time she squirted.”
Sato stares. “You… You made her squirt before I got here?” Disbelief was evident in his tone.
He chuckles, “You asked me that like it’s hard or something, of course I did.”
You pull yourself up from Sato’s softening cock just in time and give the two slow blinks while transferring your gaze back and forth. Sleepiness wasn’t slow to overcome you.
Sato met your eyes with his pointed ones and puffed all brat-like, “Soooo… you’re gonna do that for only me next time, right?”
There’s not a singular thought inside your head as you blatantly ignore him. Then, you turn over and plop onto the bed to lay down—back facing the two of them.
“Hello?” Sato taps your shoulder and then jokingly adds a comedic, “Chat, am I muted…?”
Toru snorts with a shake of his head, getting out the bed to start cleaning up the mess you three collectively made within the past few hours.
Then, you’re wondering if the roles had reversed for a second when he grumbles, “Fuckin’ loser…”
Synopsis: in which popular girl!reader is done with shitty players and wants to try the newest delicacy: virgin nerds. It’s game on to seduce the physics student, who seems more than ready to abandon his life of celibacy.
But their arrangement only works if they’re both on the same page. What happens when one expects a little more than sex?
Is it game over?
Warnings: eventual smut, porn with plot, fake dating trope, college au, no curses au, mean girl!reader, fem dom!reader, nerd!jo, subby!gojo, virgin!gojo, masochist!gojo, some angst but with a happy ending, very early 2000s romcoms, reader grows a lot (hate towards her will not be tolerated), reader gets humbled quite often here lol, not proofread
Word Count: 26k
Gojo art by @/Leimiruu on X
Chapter ONE - Game start
Chapter TWO - Different levels
Chapter THREE - Boss fight
Chapter FOUR - Perfect victory
Disclaimers:
♤ All chapters have been written and will be updated weekly, every Monday. This will also be available on AO3 under reignpage. AO3 will be updated at the same time but broken down into smaller chapters, reading experience might be better over there.
♤ This is a mix of fluff, smut and angst, so minors/ageless blogs do not interact.
♤ There will be no taglist as I am pretty certain that I will, more or less, update on time, so be sure to check in on Mondays. But if I am late or cannot post for whatever reason, please do not harass me. I am probably too preoccupied to proofread each chapter to update, so badgering me for updates will not make them come quicker. Trust they will come.
♤ Any comments hating on the reader in this story will be deleted and the user will be blocked. The story plays on the mean girl trope so you will see mean girl behaviour. Just know this is all intentional. If you are sensitive to a flawed female character, do not read. I know what some of you are like. I have played these games before.
♤ This story was initially called All Lips No Gloss, but has now been changed to Bubblegum Bitch because MARINA is a queen.
♤ This is a college au separate from my EdenU au. Different Gojo and university setting altogether. Any semblance is coincidental.
♤ Every part of this is of my own work. No AI or external inspiration was used. Please do not repost this on Tumblr or on any other platform. I do not give permission for this to be translated. And please do not feed my work into AI.
whenever i read fanfics and they say something about ME, THE READER blushing, i get so thrown off. like its just funny because im brown. I can’t blush. I’m sorry. I feel like a fraud.
☀︎ SATORU GOJO is the only person who could fuck you mid-argument.
i mean, one moment, you're complaining about how close he was to a girl today.
something about how he let her flirt with him 'without having the decency and respect' to tell her that he was beautifully taken by a beautiful girl.
something about how you always (not true) have to tell girls that your precious boyfriend is taken while he sits there and does nothing (also not true).
another moment, you're bent over, trying to whine about how much of a piece of shit he is while he dicks you down, half apologetic, half amused. amused at the fact that you even had the courage to talk to him the way you had.
"sorry, baby," he says, but you're not sure if he's talking to you, or the pussy he was submured in, because hell, it was definitely talking to him. "'m really sorry... 'kay?"
he's whispering in your ear, but you can't seem to comprehend a word he's saying. the dick's too good.
he grabs your jaw with one hand, and grips the sheets with another, his chest warm against your back.
every thrust forces a moan from your throat, but you can't quite talk.
not like he wanted you to, anyway. you'd done enough of that.
"i didn't mean to make you jealous, baby," his brows furrow as he looks down at you with those blue eyes that you love so fucking much. "you're– you're the best, i swear, my– fuckkk,"
he pushes his upper half away from you, letting go of your jaw and moving his large hands down to your ass.
squeezing it, his thrusts slow down, and it makes him smirk.
the sight of his dick easingggg in and out of you? he loves that shit.
you? you're still whining and trying your best to shit-talk. satoru knows you can't. you never can when he's fucking you this good.
and there's never a time where he's not fucking you this good.
"f–fuck you," you finally push out, knuckles aching from the grip you had on the sheets.
"you can, baby," he grins, moving a hand up your back. "i promise, only you can." he almost whispers, but he knows you can hear it.
Synopsis: in which popular girl!reader is done with shitty players and wants to try the newest delicacy: virgin nerds. It’s game on to seduce the physics student, who seems more than ready to abandon his life of celibacy.
But their arrangement only works if they’re both on the same page. What happens when one expects a little more than sex?
Is it game over?
Warnings: eventual smut, porn with plot, fake dating trope, college au, no curses au, mean girl!reader, fem dom!reader, nerd!jo, subby!gojo, virgin!gojo, masochist!gojo, some angst but with a happy ending, very early 2000s romcoms, reader grows a lot (hate towards her will not be tolerated), reader gets humbled quite often here lol, not proofread
Word Count: 26k
Gojo art by @/Leimiruu on X
Chapter ONE - Game start
Chapter TWO - Different levels
Chapter THREE - Boss fight
Chapter FOUR - Perfect victory
Disclaimers:
♤ All chapters have been written and will be updated weekly, every Monday. This will also be available on AO3 under reignpage. AO3 will be updated at the same time but broken down into smaller chapters, reading experience might be better over there.
♤ This is a mix of fluff, smut and angst, so minors/ageless blogs do not interact.
♤ There will be no taglist as I am pretty certain that I will, more or less, update on time, so be sure to check in on Mondays. But if I am late or cannot post for whatever reason, please do not harass me. I am probably too preoccupied to proofread each chapter to update, so badgering me for updates will not make them come quicker. Trust they will come.
♤ Any comments hating on the reader in this story will be deleted and the user will be blocked. The story plays on the mean girl trope so you will see mean girl behaviour. Just know this is all intentional. If you are sensitive to a flawed female character, do not read. I know what some of you are like. I have played these games before.
♤ This story was initially called All Lips No Gloss, but has now been changed to Bubblegum Bitch because MARINA is a queen.
♤ This is a college au separate from my EdenU au. Different Gojo and university setting altogether. Any semblance is coincidental.
♤ Every part of this is of my own work. No AI or external inspiration was used. Please do not repost this on Tumblr or on any other platform. I do not give permission for this to be translated. And please do not feed my work into AI.
