ⓘ SUMMARY ，in all your life, people have condescend you, treating you as nothing but an obstacle in the way. so, why does one of the most popular fraternity member treating you as . . . well, you. however, your happiness doesn't last long when you realize that he's just indulging in his friends' laughter and admiration in an exchange for your already tarnished reputation.
ⓘ PAIRING ，frat! jo x fem! reader
──── ⓘ TAGS : 10.6k ，satoru's a dick but he changes in later part lolz, cursing, angst, fluff kinda at first (?), non curse au, doesn't follow the jjk plot, sukuna and suguru cameo, dickhead rich kids stuff, corny flirting from satoru, reader and satoru fights a lot (one sided), satoru's egotistical, mentions of bullying (sukuna bullying u he doesn't directly... no physical stuff), u slapped satoru in reflex in part 1, long oneshot (this is part 2), fratjo is the endgame based on polls, happy ending, gojo and sukuna fights (as in physically), mentions of blood (bcs they're fighting), sukuna accidentally hits u (not intentional), no smut so no worries · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · art by @/hanamisoo_ on ig!
Satoru has never felt so empty in his life. Back when his first girlfriend broke up with him— he'd feel this overwhelming sadness so bad that he stopped eating altogether. But, that was what . . . years ago? This was different than the relationship you had in middle school, where you declare your love right in front of them and all of a sudden, the two of you were in a "serious" relationship.
No. This is so much more than that. Satoru felt nauseous, he had tried walking up to your apartment, but your lights were off. And there were these . . . men, he assumed you called them to actually get rid of the paint on your walls. He has tried approaching your workplace, but your shift has changed, then your co-workers refused to tell him because it was confidential. He had tried waiting for you right outside your classroom, even if it meant leaving his at least half an hour earlier than the usual. He figured he could just study the materials alone, that's what always do. People tend to judge that he's stupid just because he parties — nope, he's one of the smartest in the fraternity, besides Suguru.
His alarm blared loudly on top of his coffee table, the label said, "end of (Name)'s shift". Ah, that's right, At this time of the day, he would go and pick you up so the two of you could spend some time together, eat some snacks by the side of the river, Satoru would bring you back home, kiss you goodnight, and wait until you're on your floor to get the green light that he should go home. But, it had changed. Even if he did go there now, you weren't there (even if you were, he guaranteed that you'd even want to see him at all).
Satoru felt sick to the bone. It had been at least three days, and he already felt like a man starved. His lips felt dry, he hasn't replied to Suguru's messages ever since then, nor Sukuna's, nor any invites for a party. Hell, he hasn't even been showing up to basketball sessions, "Jesus Christ," he whispers under his breath, scrolling through your contact.
His messages said delivered, but the read receipt didn't even change. He remembered you saying that you couldn't understand the complexity of it — he knows you didn't understand how to block numbers, most of the time, you weren't even on your phone. Gosh, this is why he wanted to buy you a new phone, at least he would have been more relieved when he knows that you were alive to block him.
"What the fuck, what the fuck," he tugs on his hair, agitated.
The knock on his door was enough to send him flying out of the couch, where he had resided for the last three days, surrounded by the boxes, each filled with things he had bought you. They smelled like you, so he held on to the fact that there were remnants of you still near him. Suguru stood at the other side of the door, holding what seemed to be booze . . . Really?
"Didn't get this for you, don't even try to point it at me," Suguru immediately defended, even if no words were spoken, "Sukuna asks me to buy a bottle. I decided to drop by here for a bit to make sure you're alive since you aren't replying to any of us."
Satoru looked odd. Different from his usual kempt self, dressed in the white shirt that he didn't even change out of. The stench that came from his body from the lack of shower, dark circles began to form under his eyes as a reminded to get some slumber for his body, " . . . The hell do you want from me?" Satoru didn't expect his voice to come out as harsh as that, but he was already annoyed to beginwith.
Suguru sighs, "What are you? Seven? 'Bout to throw another tantrum?" Satoru knows that his friend was just being nice to look after him — but at this point, he doesn't even need reassurance. All he wanted was to meet you, get shit straight, and then win you back.
"Fuck off."
"I'm just here to check on you, that dick will kill me if I don't come with his booze. I'll try to drop by later," Satoru hopes he doesn't drop off, he really doesn't want to talk to anyone besides you right now.
Satoru stared at Suguru in a strange way. In a way that makes Suguru wave awkwardly as he walks away from the property — when Suguru is completely out of sight, Satoru finds himself walking back inside, immediately he goes back to his phone. Hoping that your name had popped in his stacks of notifications.
Andddd, you're not.
On the other hand, you had been taking more shifts and too busy exchanging schedules with your co-workers. You've heard of the ways Satoru approached the store, asking for you. Thankfully, your co-workers didn't decide to betray you by telling him. Without his help, you were barely passing by again — now that you have debt to him.
This is why I hate people buying me things, you knew that deep down Satoru never asked for these things to be returned in any kind of form. Still, you think that his actions were equivalent to him buying those things just because he wanted a new porsche from Sukuna. He did all that knowing that this was the first time you've been loved loudly, and frankly enough, it sucks.
You knew this was coming. It still hurt more than you anticipated anyways.
Your fingers drummed against the countertop, doing some mental calculations of how much you needed to return to Satoru. Every month wasn't much, you try to save up as much as possible, but stacking the calculations together turned up a lot. Just the thought of it made your head pound in confusion, how were you going to return this much in such a short period of time?
"Hah, so you changed shifts, huh?"
Your head instinctively looked up, your eyes connecting with Sukuna's blood colored ones. Narrowing your eyes slightly, you scanned his items, shoving them inside a bag. He took out a bill, "Keep the change."
Thank God he's not saying shit. Because truly, you couldn't decipher him at all — one second, he's bashing you verbally. The next second, he's shooting questions and leaving like nothing ever happened. Then again, there was a saying that goes: it isn't over until the fat lady sings.
Sukuna stood by the door, looking back, "You think he genuinely liked you?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Think someone like Gojo would like someone like . . . you? That's just sad."
His words rang in the empty convenience store. You couldn't reply to him, because you knew in a way that he's right about it, "Guess what, sweetheart? He asked me to stop fucking with you just so he could prove himself that he's serious about you — ain't that just sad?" He cackled, waving his hand as he walks out into the night.
Everyday, you find more things about the supposed relationship. All revealed by their group of friends, whether it being online or reality. You found it embarrassing when you log in to your social media through the campus' PC, especially talking about how you seemed to be serious about this relationship while Satoru was just fucking you up for the funs and a new car. It was more humiliating than Sukuna calling you out for ruining his brand new car.
Satoru had came into your store the next two days after lunch, you weren't there. He knew that there were four workers, you included. He had tried coming your usual time, but you weren't there. Next, lunch shift, nope. He'd then paid a visit right at dinner time, and there you stood right behind the counter; your usual uniform. The only thing different was the look on your face, you seemed miserable.
But, just the sight of you made his heart flutter. After days of radio silence, he could finally speak again to you — his footsteps led him into the store before he could comprehend it, "(Name)?"
Your head snapped up. No, no, no, you chant softly. There's no fucking way that he's keeping tabs on your schedule now, right? He stepped up towards the counter with a giddy look on his face that almost baffles you, was he here to give you something that you owned?
"Can we talk?"
"I'm at work," you seethe out through gritted teeth, annoyance flaring inside you just at the sight of him. Because, how dare he still show up like nothing happened? Does he have any shame in himself or was he too fucking proud to admit the fact that he messed up?
"I . . . I'll wait. I can wait until your shift ends," he whispers softly.
"No, we can't talk," you gave an absolute answer that he surely would accept and go after right? "I won't talk to you because I want nothing else to do with you. If it's about my debt, I said I'll return it to you. I just need time to get it all together."
Satoru shook his head, "I don't fucking care. As far as I know, you're not in debt and I do all these because I fucking love you," he mutters out, that again. You sighed out at his words, was he seriously trying to woo you back?
"This again? What? You didn't get the car? Is there a time limit or something?"
"No, God. No! I know I fucked up, I should have told you about it, that's completely a mistake on my behalf," he pleads out, fingers digging into the edge of the counter, "I swear to God, what I did with you the past few months were serious. From the bottom of my heart, my feelings towards you . . . they're all real, and I can just prove it to you if you'd let me do it."
"No," your answer came out faster than he'd anticipated, the look on your face told him just enough. That you're completely done with him and whatever he wanted to do.
"I'll do anything, (Name)."
You squint slightly, " . . . Yeah? Like ask Sukuna if he could stop bothering me so that I could trust you faster? Won't work on me this time, Gojo. And can you stop bothering me during work hour? Thanks," it was hard to keep your mouth shut for the sake of this job — you didn't need him to make things harder than it already is for you.
Satoru stood there, his mouth parting before he shuts it again. How did you know about that? Was his initial question. It didn't take him long to click everything into a full puzzle. His heart hammered, slowly leaping into his throat, "What else did he say?" Satoru questions.
You cleared your throat, "Leave if you're not going to purchase—"
Right as you said that, his hand snatched a small packet of chips and a lollipop, tossing it onto the counter, "What else did he say?" his voice was seething. Not at you, but at Sukuna.
"I don't want to get involved."
"Too bad," he mumbled, taking out a bill, "keep the change."
His answer made you speechless. Not because you were offended at the fact he indirectly said that you were already involved in this (well, if you think about it, he was right). You were speechless at the fact that he looked like a vampire seeking for blood — no, he looked like he was about to start something that he wasn't supposed to. And somehow, it still scared you slightly.
Satoru walked down the street in another speed he didn't know he could do. The pack of chips were in his grasp so tight that it might pop, the lollipop was long forgotten, he remembered dropping it right on the third block after the convenience store. Dinner was just the right time for Sukuna to start another party; he said, apparently people could just eat during the party.
Satoru felt his shoulder brush against strangers along the road. Usually, a small apology would slip out of his lips — but today, he didn't say anything. Not even a look of apology. His fists were clenched so hard that he could feel his nails digging into his skin, it hurts, but he could care less.
The frat house stood not too far away from the campus. Sukuna's father built it just for him, just for his son. Nobody knew why the frat house was suddenly up and about. Sukuna sent out invitations and everyone suddenly knew about it, it was crazy. The craziest thing was that he'd put out a list of names that weren't allowed inside the frat house, people used to complain, but hey . . . money is everything.
The time wasn't even that late, it was barely past eight. But, the building was already lively, the dancefloor was filled with people. The sight of Satoru, after months inside the frat house during a party surprised everyone. Mainly, Suguru and Sukuna, who had been trying so hard to get him to come back.
"What's up, man?" Suguru had a small smile on his face.
To his surprise, Satoru brushed by him. Suguru reached his hand out, but stopped himself half-way when he realized that Satoru was making a beeline straight to where Sukuna was; surrounded by girls and guys. At first glance, Suguru would have thought that Satoru was going to ask for the car — or asking him for anything else. But, he would never — actually, nobody would ever. Ever. Expected Satoru to throw a hard punch to Sukuna's face.
Sukuna's face stayed right there, facing the side. After a few seconds, his tongue darted out to nudge the cut on his lip. Everyone dispersed immediately, most of them —of course— had their phones out to record. The music still boomed, and Satoru could hear a few people chanting out "fight, fight, fight!" like this was some underground entertainment.
"Care to explain why you just did that?" Sukuna's voice was void of anger, but everyone knew damn well that one of Sukuna's main emotion everyday was anger, no matter how relaxed he look.
"Fuck you!" Satoru spat out.
Sukuna seethes out. He tossed the can of beer aside, "The fuck is your problem?" He mutters out, taking a few steps towards where Satoru stood. The two stood eye to eye, staring into each other's eyes like cats waiting to pounce — the party had completely stopped. Even if the music was still booming, bass still heart hammering, all eyes were on Satoru and Sukuna.
"My problem is you spouting out shit to my woman when you know damn well—"
"Shit?" Sukuna raised a brow, "You said those words to me yourself. I have the exact same message, and you're going to turn this on me? I didn't say shit. I said what you said to me, not my fault that you decided to fall in love with her when all you're supposed to do is make her fall . . ."
Sukuna has that nasty smirk on his face, despite the busted lip. He wasn't even fazed, he's had worse before. A busted lip was like a papercut to him. Upon hearing his words, Satoru bit his lip in anger, "You know damn well that's not what I meant, I want her. I don't give a fuck if you sabotage my fucking diploma — you're not the only one who has money around here," Satoru muttered out, looking around, "fuck are you looking at?"
Sukuna spat out the blood he had licked towards the floor. The blotch dropped right by Satoru's shoe, "So, why are you coming after me?"
The nonchalant question was met with another fist to the face. Sukuna lets out a loud groan as he staggered back, holding his face. A big grin formed on his lips, his tongue darted out for the second time, scooping the blood off his lips.
Satoru parted his lips to speak — but, Sukuna had beat him to it. Throwing his own fist, his knuckles connected along Satoru's jawline. It wasn't strong. But, just enough to make Satoru step back in surprise. It ached, his jaw felt taught after the punch, like he had just gotten a baseball bat to the face, "You threw your hands on me first, dickhead."
The fight was expected. Satoru doesn't expect Sukuna to back down from a fight — like hell, of course he'd retaliate. It would be the end of the world if one day Sukuna doesn't bother getting his face punched. Even then, him returning the punch after the second hit was already "kind" enough. Maybe it is the end of the world.
"'Cause you fucking deserved that!" Satoru spat back.
Chaotic was one. It was haywire in the frat house. People screaming for the fight to continue, along the way, a beer can flew right onto Sukuna's head. But, he could care less about anyone other than winning right now, "Deserved that? For telling that bitch the truth? You brought this shit to yourself the second you decided to fall for her," Sukuna's knuckles rapped against Satoru's face a couple of times.
"Don't call her that," Satoru muttered, using his arm to cover his face from another blow, "think you have the right to fuck with who I decide to love just because she touched your car? I'm fucking sick of you and your bullshit."
"Poor people shouldn't be in here anyways."
Satoru spat out. Actually spat out to Sukuna's face, the slimy, saliva dribbling down his cheek. It baffled Sukuna, he used the hem of his shirt, pulling it up towards his face, "Should've known that this would've happened since the first time you ditched us for her," he loudly rumbled, lunging at Satoru.
"Should've gotten the hint then and fuck off," Satoru grunted.
Everyone loved fights. Especially when they got nothing to lose, right? See, here's the thing. Everyone has their phones up and about, recording like this was a WWE show and they were on first row. But, the second Sukuna grabbed an actual stool from the side, Suguru was ready to intervene and "try" to deescalate the situation. Even, his sweet words were no avail to Sukuna's violent brain.
This wasn't Sukuna's first rodeo at all. Sure, he has fights here and there, most of them ended one sided with Sukuna asking —threatening— them to shut their mouth after. This was the Gojo Satoru, someone who has equal money to him (only more responsible, sort of) and uses it for something he actually uses (most of the time).
"Hey, come on, man. You're spoiling the party—"
"Fuck. Off," Sukuna waved his hand at Suguru, a quiet warning to him sent through the action. Suguru sighed, backing away to follow where most partygoers were standing at.
One of the guys, whom had been watching, nervously laughed and tried to ask Sukuna to just let it be. Only to be met with an actual shoe to the face, and he was shut immediately. Some of the students had decided to go home and wanted no involvement — which if you ask, was the best option because this fight could turn into something worse if it wasn't stopped.
From punches to different materials used. The two were equally battered, yet, none refused to give up or stop. On one hand, Sukuna would feel a punch to his ego, and he he'd hate that to happen in front of what . . . 50 people? On the other hand, Satoru had refused to stop until his point was shoved up so deep into this dickhead's ass, he would shit it back out the next week.
"I hope you get expelled," Satoru muttered.
"Think I care about that?" Sukuna laughs, ready to ram the wooden stool to Satoru, "I don't give a fuck about my diploma, fucker."
Suguru ended up calling the cops and the party was over that second. Both Satoru and Sukuna were brought down to the station, forced to sit side by side with one cuff etched to their wrists, indirectly knotting them together. Satoru looked away in annoyance as the officer questioned them.
"He said something about your girlfriend and you got angry?"
Sukuna scoffed, "I didn't say shit about his girl. I said what he said about his girl to his girl and he got butthurt about it, that's not my fault at all," his voice was mocking — like he was trying to prove a point.
"Right. Pink hair, your parents paid bail, we're gonna let you off with a warning. If this happens again, you do know you'll be testified as adults, right?" The overworked officer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, "Just . . . get out of here."
The handcuffs were ripped off, Satoru wiped his wrist, "Can I pay my own bail?"
Satoru walked off with a warning. Which is best choice as of now, the night was rowdy — his body ached greatly, every inch of his face hurts like a little bitch. Sukuna's an athletic person, so it would be a surprise if his punches didn't hurt. Walking down the street in a daydream, he ends up right in front of the your door.
In the past, the receptionist had gotten used to him coming by everyday, that she doesn't bat an eyelash at him anymore. Hence, why he wasn't stopped. In consciousness, Satoru brought himself to where you reside, dried blood circling his nostrils, bruises etched to his skin in purple and black, scratches on his arm and where his skin shows. He looked absolutely terrible.
He had knocked on your door after staring into it. And now, he hoped that you'd been awake or home to open it for him.
"She's not home yet, comes home late because of her shift change. I got her spare key though, she said in case somethin' happened to her, don't know what that means. You're her man, right? I've seen you a couple of times here."
Satoru coaxes his head to look to the side, blinking, "Oh," he whispers out, "no, nah. I'm trying to get back to that status though — I'm just gonna wait out here . . . What time does she usually get back?"
The man puffed out a small ball of smoke from his lips, "Most of the time? Midnight. Sure you wanna wait out here?"
Satoru nods his head. He wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable with him using the key to get inside your apartment, this was your safe place, and he had learnt to respect that ever since you told him to a long time ago. The guy killed his cigarette, "Well, my door's this one if you need the key. Good luck though."
Satoru nods his head. He's seen him a couple of times, most of the times, he just kinda . . . hears him from your apartment (during nights, and it's unpleasant to say the least). Although he looked ragged and dull, you seem to put a lot of trust in him to be able to hand your key to him. So, Satoru was also going to respect that.
His back slid down the wall slowly, bringing his body into a sit. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better since his legs were killing him. Or maybe, it's because of that fucking stool Sukuna used to hit his shin. What a douchebag. Midnight isn't going to be long, he could just close his eyes and . . .
"The hell are you doing here?"
And it's midnight. The string of drool that formed a stream right on the corner of his lips disappeared the instant moment his sleeve flew up to catch them, "(Name), you're home."
The sudden jolt on his joints made his body ached even more. You insert the key and turned it, "I don't want to talk to you, so go home," yes, he expected that answer, and yes it still hurt him because he knew he brought it on himself, "whatever you want to say, I don't want to hear it anymore. And I made this clear, in case you can't comprehend it. I want nothing else to do with you, I don't want to get involved with you and your stupid friends, yeah?"
You turned the knob, pulling the door open. As you were about to step inside, his hand shot out, curling against your bicep. With a hopeless look, he pleads out, "I messed up. I know. I want to do this — please, I want to be serious. I'll do anything to make us right again."
He doesn't miss the tinge of disgust lacing on your face, his fingers unfurled at the sight, "Personal space, got it," he whispers softly, "I just want to make us right, (Name)."
Your face turned to him, "That's funny. Never remembered there being an "us" since we were never genuine anyways," his heart hammered at your words, "go home. And stop showing up here, you make me sick."
Satoru felt his heart spiritually break into two, his shoulders sagged. The pain in his body seemed to hurt even more at the rejection, he looks up slightly, "I'm hurt," he muttered, "can I at least have my girlfriend to—"
"Yeah, well, I don't see your girlfriend here. So?" You replied back, "I think you should seriously leave."
Satoru scrunched his face up, "I'll do whatever. Whatever. (Name). Just name it," he pleads softly, keeping himself rooted to where he had been standing. A part of him feared that if he gets any closer than this, he'd intrude your comfort.
You smirked, "Anything?"
Satoru felt a bit relieved that you were at least willing to listen. His head bobs slightly, "Yes, anything. Just name it, I'll do it."
A soft hum of amusement escaped you and you nod, "Alright, do me a favor then," you crossed your arms over your chest, "do me a favor and stop talking to me. Stop trying to make this work, because we know well that it won't. And stop making me look like a fool, you fooled me this time, alright — my fault, shouldn't have trusted you at all. So, do me a favor and fuck off and maybe I'll consider forgiving you."
"Let me make this work. I don't care how hard it gets, I want us to work. Give me a month, if you still haven't change your mind then. I'll leave you alone," you scoffed at his offer, like this was another bet, this time, one you actually know of. What is he? Seven? Did he think this was a movie or something? He looked like he was about to pass out waiting for you to answer him, "please say something . . ."
"No," you bluntly rejected, "you're treating this like it's some kind of game. If you are, it's not. At least this time you gave me a heads up about the bet."
"I don't care. I'll still do it."
"Good luck, best wishes."
He was not lying when he said that.
Satoru showed up every single day right as you were about to leave your apartment, standing right by the door of the building. He still remembered what classes you had, what time it was, and what time it ended — he wasn't tardy, the tardiest he's been was ten minutes late to his accustomed time. And you still had at least fifteen minutes left worth of class.
No, that was not all. Satoru sent you flowers, he sent you food because he knew well enough that you tend to skip meals. A pretty box shows up right on the front porch and you're not surprised that it's one of his luxurious tendencies to spoil you, even until now. You never wore anything though, it stayed tucked inside every single box.
"Hey," Satoru whispers, pushing himself off the wall when you emerge from the convenience store, dressed warmly, "can I bring you home?"
"Don't push your luck."
" . . . Touché. Can't I at least be a few steps away to make sure you get home safe?" He tried again, testing the waters carefully.
You ignored him, walking away. In his dictionary, if it's not a no, then it's a yes! He waited until you were a good few steps away before following your steps, his steps were usually much larger. But, today, he tries to keep it short and slow — just to make sure you are comfortable with the distance. He didn't want to ruin this.
Once you get inside the apartment complex, he breathes out a sigh of relief. It was hard. This is hard, but it was definitely harder without you. Satoru wanted you back more than anything, and he'd definitely burn the world if you told him to.
Sukuna had stopped messaging him. Suguru had checked on him a couple of times throughout the week. Shoko was the one who helped him with his wounds, she's a med student— and Satoru's personal med, kinda— who's aspiring to be an actual doctor, so Satoru took full advantage of that. She doesn't mind. "Experiment", she said.
"What should I do now?"
Shoko scoffed, "One, try not to kill yourself by fighting Sukuna. Two, get your girl back," she muttered out in annoyance, snatching a box of cigarette from the top right cabinet (which she saved solely just for those little cancer sticks), "and why are you hanging out my workplace again?"
"Because you're all I got now."
"So . . . like a backburner?"
Satoru shrugged, "No. Never said that," Shoko rolled her eyes, turning around to face the computer, "listen, the first time you started something with her with bad intentions, you lost. Just the fact that she's willing to let you do all this makes her kind of . . . cool. I'm going to be frank, but I do think you should leave the poor girl alone."
Satoru looks at his twined fingers, his knuckles were still a tad blue from the fight. The faint scratches had almost disappeared from the surface of his skin, "But, I don't want to lose her."
"Her or the feeling?"
It offended him that Shoko thought he was staying because you were (probably) one of the few who completely understood him while everyone thinks of him as just a pretty face with crazy money. That's sad on his part, "You'd seriously think that I'm doing this because she gives me the attention I want?"
Shoko shrugs, not bothering to turn her chair, "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."
"Fuck. No, I'm doing this because I fucking want her."
"Even when everyone hates her?"
"Who gives a fuck about everyone? I love her."
Satoru could hear the faint chuckle from Shoko, "Good for you," her voice was smooth, no emotions lacing. For a second, it was just silence between them, then Shoko looks back, her chair rotating along, "get out of here then."
Satoru stood up, "Yeah. Right, right."
From the corner of her eyes, Shoko eyes his figure, sluggish as he walks out. His shoulder bumped into a pillar on the way out, making him stagger slightly. A small knowing smirk popped onto her lips as her eyes trails back to the dim screen of her computer.
Satoru stood right outside the campus. He had opted to skip his class today — apparently it was a "headache", he was not lying. He had to face Sukuna, and mind you, they were stuck in the same group work until the end of the semester. What could go worse than that? Just the thought of Sukuna made his head hurt.
You were supposed to come out in . . . approximately half an hour. He could just wait here.
Through the months. Satoru knew probably every single thing about you, starting from that big fall you had back when you were young. So bad that you had to get stitches, to the fact that you were struggling because of the debts your father left you. One thing he knows is that (Name) is never late — in fact, she's always early. You told him one time: "I'd rather wait than be late". And he's comes half an hour earlier after that to make sure that you weren't waiting.
Sometimes, he tells you to meet him somewhere at three, then he shows up at 14.30 because he knew you'd be there by 14.45. You caught up with his act and tried to show up earlier than him, it happened once and then never again.
So, the fact that you were late right now made his stomach churn in worry. The first minute passed and Satoru was walking beyond the gates, eyes roaming around the ground. His eyes skimmed through every single person he passed by in case you had decided to wear yet another disguise (yes, it has happened. And no, it did not work). His heart hammered so loud his eardrums were practically about to burst, what if someone had locked you up again and he couldn't contact you? What if Sukuna was messing with you and you couldn't call him?
Satoru knew that dick. If Sukuna couldn't do anything to him, he'd target the next thing (or person) that means a lot to Satoru — you. And it's not a myth, it has happened.
His brain wasn't helping. All the 'what ifs' whispering softly like a taunt made him shudder. Swiftly weaving past different people who had just ran out of class, he peeked inside the class. Your class. No signs of you anywhere, his eyes darted to a guy and his arm shot out, "Where's (Name)?"
The boy looked confused. Furrowing his brows, his glasses slowly slipping down, "Who's (Nam—"
"(Eye color) eyes. (Hairstyle). Around (Height). Super fucking pretty. Brings a (Favorite Color) bag with her," the boy's face contorted into realization and he pointed to the right, "was anyone with her?"
"Didn't look at their faces. But, there were a couple."
"You're sure they went that way?"
"Positive. I might fail history, but my memory is—" yada, yada, yada.
"Thanks."
The boy waved, fixing his glasses as Satoru was rushing towards the direction. There were a couple? Satoru wasn't one to jump to conclusions, but this time he was 100% sure it has to be Sukuna. And if he's wrong, he swore to himself that he'll dance right in the middle of the cafeteria butt naked.
Turning around the corner, he was already out of breath. The campus was humid, and the weather did not help. His thin clothes were still too hot for him — and if it didn't break the etiquette, he'd already been half-naked from the moment he came in here. The right wing of the campus building wasn't too crowded, only a couple of labs were there. Satoru had hung out long enough with Sukuna to know that he'd bring anyone here to mess with them.
He checks the empty labs first. But, he couldn't find you. One lab he went to was an undergoing class — it was a shame that he'd been called out by the professor for barging into class and had to issue a public apology right then and there. But, he had no time to feel shame right now, not when his fear was overbearing.
Climbing up to the third floor, where it's mostly deserted. He halted at the sight of Suguru leaning on the wall. His head turned, meeting Satoru's, " . . . Hey," was all he said.
"Where?"
"Where who—"
"Don't fuck with me," Satoru muttered, "where's (Name)?"
Suguru sighed, pointing his thumb towards the door by his side, "Not stopping you."
"Why aren't you stopping them?"
"You know I can't."
"You're prioritizing your free flow money from that dick over human decency?" Satoru muttered, pushing him away, their shoulders brushed against each other roughly, "fuck you."
"My apologies that I don't have as much money as you to retaliate against that dick," Suguru replied back.
Satoru kicked the door open. There you stood, back pressed against the wall on the back, Sukuna was lounging by the table, legs propped up on the surface, a bandage on his forehead. The two guys, Satoru assumed were the ones seen by your classmate were sitting on a table in front of you, holding their phones up.
You stood there, a blank look on your face. No, nothing had happened. All honesty, you didn't even know why the two guys decided to bring you here — Sukuna hasn't said anything to you since you came here . . . which was around 15 minutes ago. All the seconds were used with you standing there, bored.
However, in Satoru's eyes. They were patronizing you. Sukuna, especially. The worry in his veins disappeared into anger, you watch him march up to Sukuna. Surely, you'd expect something more civil about this, like a conversation. Not, a punch to the face.
"You fucking bitch," Satoru spat out, "can't win against me so you go for someone I love, huh? Fucking prick."
It wasn't even a one-sided fight. Like I said, Sukuna tends to fight back most of the time (besides his parents). So, it was a surprise to see the two actually break into a full brawl, tables scraped against the floor — chairs strewn here and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your whole nervous system just had to stop now, no squeamish, no panic, nothing. You froze there, getting pushed back a couple of times by the guys who by now . . . were recording with big smiles on their faces.
Suguru stared at them from the corner. Shutting the door quietly, something about good universities having soundproof classes was a bit odd, no? You watch him lean his back on the door, hands shoved inside his pants like this was the most normal thing he's seen in his life.
You've seen a lot of things in life. People arguing in the streets, homeless people wielding actual pocket knifes, drunk people fighting, but these were sober adults. You sank your teeth down on your lips, watching their fists hit each other — your heart was at your throat, what to do now? The scraped tables had form a messy arena between the two, you were just thankful they weren't throwing tables and chairs.
"You— fucking dick!" Sukuna threw a chair.
Oh.
"Satoru—" your voice was meek. It was never this meek, you couldn't understand. Was it the fact that you fear something could happen to you, or Satoru?
Of course, he doesn't hear you. None of them did. You were pushed back slightly when Sukuna and Satoru suddenly moved — like they were in a cat fight. As he went by, you tried to grab him, or Sukuna. Or anyone, really, "Satoru—"
You'd expect them not to hear you. But, the sharp pain on your face said otherwise. Maybe, grabbing Sukuna wasn't the best choice, especially while he was fighting. The whole room seemed to stop and watch for a bit as you staggered back, the familiar metallic taste lingered on your tongue longer than you'd expect.
"What the fuck did you just—" Satoru pushed Sukuna aside, the guy being his least concern now that you had gotten a punch straight to the face.
In all honesty, the pain didn't even settle until Satoru cupped your face. A sharp hiss escaped your lips, and Satoru doesn't miss the tinges of red tinting your tongue, "Fuck."
Okay. Change of plans. He can handle Sukuna later, the cut on your tongue looked painful — Shoko was the first person in his mind. He pulled you out of the messy lab, even with bruises and bleeding wounds littering his face, his first thought was to get your wound taken care of firsthand before he goes back to find that dick.
Shoko was sitting in the infirmary, typing away on her computer like always. The sight of you made her brows raised, "What happened?"
"That dick punched her in the face. I'm going to fucking kill him."
The last time you'd seen him get this angry was from a video of a dog getting abandoned. You stayed quiet, the constant caress of pain on your tongue just made your ability to speak, this wasn't the first time you've been to the infirmary, you know this girl. First time, a minor cut and you asked for a small bandage. The second time, period cramps, you asked to rest here for a bit. The third time, you had a headache, that was . . . three days ago.
Shoko nods her head at you in acknowledgement, all while she snapped the latex medical gloves on, cocking her head to the bed as if a silent request for you to sit down. Satoru was the one who sat you down like a kid, "The campus gave you a strike for getting arrested after that fight in the frat house, surely you'd like to hold back a bit on the punches, no?" Shoko asked, examining your wound.
She hands you a small plastic cup, "Blood's pulling, I'm gonna need you to spit it out if it gets too much."
The whole process of cleaning it was the ABSOLUTE worst. You'd rather have your toe kiss a table, seriously. Satoru never moved from his spot, the entire half an hour. His wounds looked much worse, yet he could actually care less about it.
When you were done, the pain lingered. It was horrible, you'd like to take your tongue off, if that was even possible. Shoko looks at Satoru, "You, sit."
Satoru sat next to you. For the second time around, Shoko cleaned after his wounds. The old bruises on his knuckles now maddening again, "Jesus, hey. Careful with that stuff, it hurts," he flinched when the ointment seeped cotton touched his busted lip, "you sure her wound's fine? I think it needed stitches."
"You're questioning a future doctor."
"Yes, ma'am."
Shoko was a bit rougher with him, because she knew he doesn't mind at all. Satoru didn't mind — he's had so much worse than this, like that time he unknowingly broke his pelvis during a trip to the skatepark, and he thought he had a deadly illness. It was surprising that the doctor told him he was able to suppress that much pain for a while.
"Right. Done, get out of the infirmary if you're going to make out," Shoko snapped the latex gloves off, tossing it into the bin, "also, try not to eat acidic food, spicy food, and overly salty food. Won't make it worse, but you'll be in pain."
You nod at her, "Thanks," even speaking hurts.
Satoru walks you out. A tint of guilt flashed over his face, "I'm so fucking sorry, (Name). I didn't expect that dick to punch you—"
"It was an accident," you mumbled, trying not to move your tongue too much, but it was impossible.
"I don't care. I shouldn't have fought him like that — not when you're around, that is . . ."
You look at him, "She said you fought him in the frat house. Curious, is that before you showed up at my house like you had just been beaten up?" Satoru sheepishly scratched his head, guilty.
" . . . Why?"
"He was saying stuff . . . I know what he said was true, I know starting things with you with an intention of getting something from him was bad, and I still did it. I just want you to know that whatever that is," he looks into your eyes deeply, "I admit it's my fault. I know you're probably tired of hearing me say that I want you back, but it's true. No strings attached. All real, from the bottom of my heart. I am deeply in love with you."
You skimmed over his expression. Trying to see a crease of fake tucked beneath it, but he just seemed genuine . . . and it scares you.
"And I want you to know," he said too quickly, as if trying to make you stay, "that I'm not just saying this so you could forgive me. I'm saying this because I want you to know that I am serious about loving you. You don't have to forgive me now, or ever. Don't feel bad about telling me to fuck off when you get tired, yeah?"
"I don't care about the things you buy me. I never used them," Satoru blinked at the bluntness of your statement.
"Oh?"
"I'll return them back."
"No. I'm not going to accept them."
"Then, I'm selling it."
"Be my guest, it's technically yours. So, you're free to do whatever you want with it," a sly smile formed on his lips like he had just won the argument, "and your point of telling me this, is?"
"Is that I don't want you to flaunt your money to make me forgive you. I'm not forgiving you now, I still hate you. You think that your money solves everything, and it pisses me off. It's like saying that you could buy my trust back," you tell him, "and frankly, I find that very offensive. And my tongue hurts, aaand I have work."
"I'll bring you—"
"No. You know what you'll bring?" He waits for you, "to bring yourself home and think about what you did."
Satoru pursed his lips, but he nodded anyways, "Yes, ma'am."
Satoru stopped with the luxurious items completely. Basically, you telling him that was you telling him you preferred actions over words, right? Right?
He stands right out the door, even in the heavy rain. It was past your curfew (you set it up), holding the messy flowers curved out of fuzzy wires, he had set his eyes on the pink colored fuzzy wires while he walked by a art store. In his defense, he thought a couple of hours were enough to make 12 sticks of it. It took him five hours, and he had lost track of time.
The flowers weren't the best looking. They looked messy and clunky, just like him right now. But, he thought it was the best thing ever. His shoulders were soaking, and the hood of his jacket. Satoru had protected the flowers to prevent the fuzziness from depleting, and he was pretty damn proud of it.
When the door opened, he shoves the flowers into your hand, "Flowers. Your favorite, it's messy, I know. My first time," he proudly states, grinning from ear to ear, "I hope you like it. I'm sorry I didn't walk you home today, I lost track of time while making these."
You look at the flowers. It shouldn't smell good, these wires smelled tangy, like they had been stored away, "Did you spray perfume?"
He nods, "Oh, yeah. So, it's like real ones."
"It's masculine."
" . . . In a good way, right?"
You nod. The action doesn't faze you, the feeling of distrust still there — he went all this way to give you this, "Okay. Thank you," you mumbled out, your voice drowned by the rain slightly. Satoru nods his head, ready to go, but you stopped him, "you should stay until the rain eases."
Satoru doesn't think much of it. You were being nice, he knows it. You weren't an easy nut to crack, and he respects you for that. Satoru watches you retreat into the kitchen, laying the flowers onto the counter, "Have a seat. I'll get you water."
Satoru shook his head, "No, no. It's okay, I'm fine. I drank tons before coming here."
You nod, "Okay."
The distance between the two of you were big enough to make him nervous. You were sitting like he had the plague, "So, how was work today?"
"Good."
"You ate?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"What did you eat?"
You inhaled softly, "Beef ramen."
Satoru hums, "From our usual spot?" And you nodded in a rush, hoping he'd leave it as just that, "Funny how I passed by and then there was a temporarily closed standee there. Were you eating somewhere else?"
"Yeah."
"Stop killing the conversation," you huffed, looking away as he said that, "can we have a little conversation at least until the rain dies?"
Satoru would like to consider himself a lucky man. One time, in a carnival, he threw the last ball into a basket of his friend as a joke and actually won the grand prize. Or that moment when he found . . . a house worth of cash he forgot he saved up in the deepest pits of his closet? Oh, or that one time he answered a pop quiz based on his guts and actually scored highest out of everyone?
But, today just seemed like luck had given out on him. Just as the question leaves his lips, the rain died no longer than minutes later. You smirked, standing up to pretend to look out of the window, "Rain's easing, you can leave now."
Seriously? He grimaced, pushing himself up to take a look himself. You were indeed right, the rain was no longer harsh — in fact, it looked like it didn't even rain at all! He blew out a sigh, "Well, I'm gonna head out. Lock the doors, have a good night, (Name)."
You eye him from where you stood. His back faced you as he slipped his shoes on clumsily, before then, he'd look back with a smile on his face, "Sweet dreams."
The door shuts with a click, but you still stood there. Your head coaxed to face the flowers sitting on the counter — before all of this happened, you remember telling Satoru about your mixed feelings towards flowers. You love them, but at the same time, it was a shame that they die too quickly no matter how hard you try to preserve them.
He'd stop in a couple more weeks. Until then, you'd just have to give him the cold shoulders. Right?
Of course, yet again, wrong. Satoru's efforts grew bigger throughout the weeks. He shows up earlier than ever, he remembers even the slightest changes, recognized the patterns of your feelings. And fuck, he even remembered to track your period — you'd expect everything else, but never a period basket sent to you every week, right on time. Sometimes a day early, sometimes a day late.
Half of the year passed by quick, entering your second semester; you felt great! This should throw him off his usual routine, you could take advantage of this! A few weeks into the new semester, Satoru struggled to catch up with your schedule. He constantly finds himself running after you, asking people about you. And just by the first month, he had already arranged and adjusted his schedules to yours.
Funny thing, he had stopped taking classes with Sukuna. He had a couple with Suguru, they didn't stop talking. Though, Satoru was a bit upset at the fact that his own best friend hadn't tried to protect you. Suguru did send a short text of apology and the two spoke again like nothing happened.
"Can you not start with this again?" You mutter, stomping past him.
Satoru had a light blue shirt on with a long white colored sleeves, jogging after you, "Start what?"
You had paid half the "debt" you proclaimed to have. Satoru accepted it, but he kept it in a box with a little "(Name)'s Investment" writing with a little messy heart. He walks by your side, whistling a random tune. For half a year, nobody had messed with you, nor did they try to mess with you because Satoru made it clear that whoever the fuck does it would mess with him too.
"This whole stalking—"
"Ouch," he grimaced, clutching his chest, "you know? I had a dream the other day. We were on a trip to Maldives, and we stayed in one of those huts in the beach? It was a lot of fun."
"Your point of telling me that?"
"Is that I want to bring you there one day."
You scoffed, "No, thank you."
Satoru's smile doesn't falter, rejection was his all day meal plan for the past six months. It still made him ache sometimes, but he understood where it's coming from. And fuck, if he were to be in your position, maybe he had cut all communications off — you were way too kind, he doesn't even know whether he should be thankful or angry at that.
He continued walking alongside you quietly. Oh, you had resigned from your old place in the convenience store because the boss had assigned his son as the new boss. And . . . to put it short, he was shit at his job. Your paycheck comes later and later every month, Satoru prompted that you should leave while you have the chance to. You weren't planning to take his advice into consideration, but when you lay on your bed at night, you keep thinking of the money you needed and when the paycheck gets held back. No money. No money means death.
Satoru had found a hiring convenience store closer to your apartment and sent the message to you. You were hired on the spot, thanks to those many years of working. Hey, they even complimented you about your loyalty to every place you've worked in. Which, if you think about it was pretty sad.
Since your apartment was closer, you drew a line on him stopping coming to pick you up. However, he came by every single time anyways, stating how it could be dangerous for you to walk home alone despite the distance. You argued back, but it was futile, it was like arguing against a brick wall.
The convenience store you worked in right now had a couple of seats outside, and Satoru spent the hours waiting for you sitting there. Most of the times, he'd purchase a couple of instant food and eat them outside, he'd give you some, claiming he bought too much; but you knew he was just saying that for the sake of not receiving rejection. You accepted the food nonetheless, because . . . need you say much more? It's food.
Your co-workers took notice of the white haired, handsome, blue eyed boy always waiting for you. Most of them were as young as you were, so it's no surprise if they grew a crush on him — sometimes, they'd tell you to give them his number. But, you thought it was none of your business and told them to go ask themselves.
They were about to draw a line, thinking the two of your were dating.
"Him? No, we're not dating. I hate him."
And so begin the flirting of your co-worker towards him. Even to the point of changing shifts with another co-worker to be with you — no, not you. For Satoru, of course. You find her asking you if she could send over the tray for him, you gave the work to her. Satoru noticed the fluttering touches, he'd retract his fingers back with a small smile, "Thanks," he replies all the time, trying to make sense of it all.
He'd decline the girl when she asked for his number twice, and she hasn't asked again. Satoru wasn't stupid, he knew she was flirting with him. Then again, he could care less about her — in his eyes, it's just you. His eyes would travel towards your figure, leaning on the cashier, idle.
"Can you give this to (Name)?" He points at the grilled turkey sandwich and the tuna mayo onigiri, "Tell her to eat, from Satoru."
Your co-worker was confused, but she nodded anyways. She walks in, sliding the food towards you, "I think he likes you," she whispers slyly, it was great that she took no offense and knew her boundaries, "you should definitely try going out with him. He's a fucking beauty."
You rolled your eyes, "Been there, done that."
" . . . So, he's your ex?"
"I think?" Does the bet make him a mock ex or a real ex? You sighed but paid no more mind to eat, ripping the packaging open, "Want some?"
Satoru bit into the tempura, watching you eat with a full heart. At least you let him buy food this time around — usually, he'd find you giving it away to your co-workers. Well, still happening but you were eating most of it and that was enough for him.
In all honesty, he never got bored. He made sure to always have his data on and refilled every single month, played games and charged power banks he didn't even know he had in the first place. By the time your shift ends, he was still fresh and a happy guy, "So, your co-worker's been asking for my number."
"And?"
"You're not jealous?"
"No. Should I?"
"If I were you, I would," Satoru shrugs.
"I told her we weren't dating, she's free to do whatever she wants," you yawned. Satoru raised a questioning brow, "what? Am I wrong? We're not dating."
"Yet."
"Correction: never dating."
Satoru grinned, "I don't like that, but I'm sure we'll be able to change it. Meanwhile, can't we just be friends—"
"I'm not going to be friends with someone I'm uncomfortable with."
Okay. That made him stop, "I'm . . . making you uncomfortable?"
You grumbled, "Well, no. You make me angry, that's the same thing."
"Uncomfortable. Adjective. Causing a feeling or feeling unease or awkward. For example, Satoru feels uncomfortable when (Name)'s not with him," he defined. Not this again, "yes, this again. And yes, you spoke out loud. Anger, noun. Strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility. Example, (Name) could barely restrain her anger at Satoru."
"Shut it."
"Yes, ma'am," he giggled.
Everyday, he spent his time defining your words. Like he always does, that's how you grew to like him anyways . . . which was bad, because you knew you shouldn't be getting close to him again. But, why? Every fucking time he gives you that stupid smile of his, or the way you look forward to his word defining like a walking dictionary, or the way he tries his best to now be more mindful of his money and do something more . . . traditional just for you. Shit, that should be the bare minimum, right? Even you had never received the bare minimum before him, it sucks. He was giving you a lot of your firsts and it scares you.
What if this was another juke of his? What if his feelings were never real? What if he's just using you again?
"Satoru."
"Mhm?" He hums, looking at you.
"Is this some kind of bet again? Like, what are you aiming for?" You questioned him, halting your steps. The street lights flickered like broken flashes, the shadow on his face made you fear that the impending feeling gnawing inside you and screaming that he's playing with you was true, "And if there is seriously something you're aiming for, you should tell me now. Because, God, help me. I'm getting my hopes high again, and I need you to be honest with me now that you're fucking with me and destroy this hope again so I can go on—"
Satoru's smile faltered the more you spoke. Noticing the way your pace slowly picked up, and the way your eyelids flutter faster; a sign of nervousness he picked up, "Sweetheart, calm down. Deep breaths, then I'll speak, yeah?"
You inhaled deeply, slowing your breaths, " . . . Okay."
"Alright. You're okay?" You nod, "What makes you think I'm doing this because I want something? I've stopped hanging out with those dicks because I wanted you. Not to make you believe in me. That's one. Two, what else do I have to ask for when all I wanted was you? Three, if me saying I love you isn't enough, I'll get on my knees and be—"
"Okay, you're . . . odd. You're just scaring me now."
Satoru broke into a laugh, "Because I said I'll get on my knees and beg?"
You nod, "You don't do that."
He shrugs, "For you, I would."
Your fists were clenched so hard, you could barely feel the sting from your nails anymore. Teeth grit so tightly that you felt your jaw ache, "And if I gave you another chance?"
Satoru swallowed the lump in his throat, tracing a big 'X' across where his heart laid, "I cross my heart, that if I ever do wrong, you can leave me and I won't run after you," Satoru thinks you deserved better, then again, he hates the thought of someone else being with you — so, he's going to be better for you.
" . . . Why?"
"Why what? Why I said that?" He smirked, "'Cause I'm a big learner. I don't do the same stuff twice."
"I don't understand."
"Means. You're stuck with me forever now," he muttered, his hand pressed against your cheek, "and that doesn't sound too bad now, does it?" He chuckles, leaning in.
You didn't answer.
"Do I have the permission or . . ?"
In the first place, you thought that you had made it clear that you were allowing yourself to be courted by him, no strings attached this time. When that question pops from his lips, you couldn't help but to give him a mock smile, "And if I said no?"
"You're so annoying," he murmured before his lips were on yours. It wasn't the first time the two of you were lip locked, but the feeling bursts in your heart like this was the first time. It wasn't the kind where he was physically ravaging you — the kiss was slow, and sweet. Satoru channeled his relieve into the kiss, you could feel it. It didn't last long, he pulled back, eyes glossy, "I missed you so much, I'm going to fucking cry."
"You're such a nerd."
"So, what?" He captured your nose in between his teeth gently, "You like me either ways."
"Don't push your luck."
Satoru pulls back with a smile, "I'm going to ask you officially again, (Name). I know I wasn't the best boyfriend, or the best person to you. And I'm truly sorry for what I did to you. I swear on my life, that I'm asking you . . . again," he smiles to himself, "to be my girlfriend. No strings attached this time. Only my true feelings. And I hope you say yes because it'll make me the best man in the world."
"You say that like we're getting married."
"Practice makes perfect," he winked, "so . . ." his voice trails off, waiting for your answer that'll possibly — no, it will rekindle your relationship back. He just needed to hear it from you.
frat!boyfriend toji who isn't affectionate in public for the first few months due to his reputation at the school but people started to notice and it started to grow onto him. holding your hand as you guys walk to your next class, coming to the library with you to study when he should be at his 'frat meeting'.
frat!boyfriend toji who comes over to your apartment when your getting ready for his frat party, sitting on the bed as he watches you do your hair and makeup at the vanity in front of him
when you stand up to check your outfit in the mirror, he comes behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, peckering jaw all the way down to your neck with small kisses mumbling things like "how did i get so lucky" "my pretty baby". leaving you a giggling mess.
frat!boyfriend toji who happens to get into fights over you, once while you where sitting pretty at home eating takeout watching a movie when he knocks on the door with nasty scratch across his face. he sits on your counter as you stand between his legs cleaning his scratch up, scolding him.
"toji i cant believe you did something so foolish."
"mhm baby i'm sorry but he was talking crazy about you to his friend like i wasn't right there"
frat!boyfriend toji who loves when you play with his hair, folding into your touch every time you run your pretty nails through his scalp.
frat!boyfriend toji who pays for everything. you try to resist it, insisting just this once that you pay to get your own nails and hair done but he doesn't back down, sending you 400 on apple pay with a sweet message like "enjoy yourself baby."
frat!boyfriend toji who remembers everything you say and keeps tabs on it. you say you want a new game on your nintendo, 2 days later he's there at your doorstep with your favorite take out and a bag from gamestop with that new game you had been asking for. you say you wanna try this new spot in osaka? he's is booking a reservation as you tell him about all the fancy dishes they have there.
frat!boyfriend toji who gets laughed at in the best way possible by his frat brothers satoru and suguru claiming that he is "whipped over you" as they account all the times he skipped frat meetings and one or two parties to sleep in your bed and watch a movie.
"dude i haven't seen you like this in.. forever ?" suguru says confused
"im telling you suguru, this girl has him whipped!" satoru says
"well god she must be amazing, you haven't come to a frat meeting in like 3 weeks."
"what can i say, my beautiful girlfriend calls i deliver." toji says getting up, smirk running across his face.
frat!boyfriend toji who has your contact saved as something corny but really cute like "wifey" or "my favorite headache"
frat!boyfriend toji who LOVESS when you sit on his lap at a frat party, claiming you as his, your tiny skirt rising against his jeans. this man can not get enough of you
frat!boyfriend toji who will eat your pussy until he has your back bowing off the bed and you a whimpering mess, trying to cover your own mouth with you forearms. he is so filthy when he eats you, getting your wetness all over his short incoming stubble. when he's done eating he stuffs his thick fingers in you, finishing up the mess he started and licking his fingers off when he's done.
frat!boyfriend toji who is huge. the first time the two of you had sex you couldn't even take the whole thing without the burning pain in your abdomen. after a while it was a good burn, stretching you out perfectly. your pussy clamping down on his dick every time he thrusted into your slopping cunt.
"ah- mphf fuck toji m gonna-" you whimper out.
"your gonna cum baby ? yeah thats my good girl, cum on my dick pretty, show me its yours, you own this dick don't you?" he says pounding once more before you both cum into bliss.
frat!boyfriend toji who loves when you use your mouth on him. whether its kissing his filthy mouth or its fitting his thick cock into you mouth as he manspreads on your couch. grabbling a handfuls of your hair, pushing you down on his dick , making you gag on it till your throat closes as he cums with a groan into your mouth and brushes your hair to the side as you slide his dick out your mouth with a soft pop as you look up at him, getting up to sit on his lap kissing him spitting his cum back into his mouth.
god you two were sweet out to the public but you two were sure enough filthier than anyone else at home.
A/N : im almost done with the frat toji fic , i have about 1k words left but i just wanted to use this to get the ball rolling with my account! i hope you guys enjoyed this !! bye bye my velvets
all likes, comments , reblogs and follows are dearly appreciated!!
Bring You Down Slow - Mr. Whatsit!Henry Creel x fem!reader
CW: Cockwarming, praise, penetration, edging, and if you squint hard enough, breath play.
DESCRIPTION: As newlyweds, you and Henry just aren't capable or keeping hands to yourselves.
Henry's journal now sat discarded in front of him on his desk in his study. The journal lay open, the words on the page half written now. They were important a moment ago, but now, not so much.
His slender fingers held you tightly in place on his lap. The rolling chair under you both made a groan each time Henry shifted.
You had promised him that you'd be still. To just hold back and feel him bury himself as deep as his thick, veiny cock would go.
He had you facing away from him on his lap. Your back to his chest, his forehead slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Every breath he drew was quickened, jaw taut and abdomen rigid from deep satisfaction.
Leaning forward, his fingers curled under your knees. He pulled them up, bringing your feet to rest beside his thighs on the chair.
"Up you go."
The angle allowed him to shift in deeper. The stretch alone felt so achingly good. Henry rasped out a low guttural sound once he settled inside of you.
"Oh. That's it." A dark chuckle from satisfaction rose from his lungs.
His cock twitched deliciously. Right against that delicious spot deep inside. He almost couldn't handle the way your slick coated him and the apex of his thighs.
"You just couldn't wait, could you?" His tone was gravelly, conspiratorial almost.
If only you could bring yourself to answer through the intense convulsion of your slick heat.
All rational thoughts had absconded from every nerve ending in your body. Fire, ether. Thickness that rippled in you, widely with every devastating inch.
"Every single tremor..." Henry exhaled out. "I can feel every. single. inch. of how badly you want to move, love." His rugged hand comes to wrap around the base of your throat.
Not enough to hurt, not enough to cut off the cool air from your precious lungs. Just enough pressure to remind you of who owned this. Your pleasure, your soul. Everything was his.
"But you aren't going to move, are you?" Henry asked lowly.
Your lips parted. A desperate gasp for air came out more as a choke. Fitting, considering how dizzy he was making you feel. And he wasn't even choking you.
"You feel so..." You mustered out, barely.
"So what, love?" His tone was downright teasing. Almost taunting in a way of sorts.
"Tell me exactly what it feels. Or I'll leave you like this all night."
"Ineffable. So thick. So overwhelming."
The low timbre of his dark sigh of amusement made your thighs quake, your soaking cunt quiver. A low chuckle escapes him once your skin starts to feel hot against his.
His fingers drug softly across your lower abdomen, deliberately. Your hips raised on instinct at the feeling of his cool fingers, half of him slipped out.
"Ah ah." Henry taunted. He punctuated it by bringing you back down roughly on his cock. You gasped once he was all the way back in.
It twitched. And every time it did, it inched you closer and closer to desperate release. You needed it. You craved it. You could practically taste it.
His left hand came to pull the hair covering your ear away and off to the side. He brought his lips right to your lobe, and just barely grazed his teeth along it.
"You're going to work for it." He commanded. He made you look at him by gently pulling your head back by your hair.
Your eyes were met with his enthralling ocean blues. Unkempt hair plastered to his forehead due to the heat in the stuff study.
The way he said it brought you so close to the edge. Henry felt your insides clamp down around his throbbing cock.
He chortled in triumph. He relished in how close you were, and he didn't even more an inch. And he wanted to see how far he could push you.
"Hold it." A command you dare not disobey.
Your body arched beautifully. The broken whimper of your burning ache, the final and last convulsion around him, pleased him in all ways. He made you look at him one last time.
"You're so perfect like this."
He held you tightly down on his cock once you finally reached intense euphoria.
summary: Your boyfriend likes teasing you a little too much in the morning.
♡ warnings: 18+, no smut, mentions of sex, public touching, nothing crazyyy he just wants u embarrassed lol, cute stuff, fluff, teasing, no mentions of y/n, self insert.
.ᐟ.ᐟ : a little drabble cus i was bored n taking a break from my other stuff eeee <33
You found him in the driveway, hunched over his car, hood propped open, working on the thing since god knows what time. Strong hands worked carefully, skilled hands maneuvering the parts, grease-stained hands wiping at his denim jeans as he turned around.
There you stand, tired, puffy eyes gazing at your boyfriend, still dressed in your silly pjs, just his t-shirt and a pair of your underwear. You’d be more concerned if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, but only tall trees surround the small cabin, completely isolated from society, and neither of you minds it.
“Sweetheart,” he drawls quietly, a large hand sliding into the front of his jeans. “You’re gonna get cold if you stay out here too long,” he reminds you, fishing a cigarette from his pack.
“I know,” you nod, already shivering from the March air poking at your bare arms and thighs. “I missed you,” you admit quietly, lifting a hand to rub your sleepy eyes.
Your boyfriend laughs behind the cigarette between his teeth, his free hand lighting it before he inhales and blows it to the side in the cold, rainy air. This time of year was the worst; damp and cold, winter was finally ending, but spring was still too shy to do anything, leaving an awkward mix of sunshine and still being too cold to wear shorts.
“Give me a second, baby,” he dismisses, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans. “I’m just finishing up,” he tells you, turning back around to gaze at the interior of the vehicle; all wires and things you can’t comprehend this early in the morning.
The damp wood of the porch is cold beneath your feet as you step further onto it, and you approach the steps, sitting against them. Your eyes gaze at the back of your boyfriend; taut muscle against the white shirt he wears, pulling perfectly against him. You smile to yourself, tilting your head to the side.
“I can tell you’re watching,” he calls out, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone. “Go inside, I’ll make you breakfast in a minute, doll,” he reassures again, sighing as a dirty hand runs through his hair.
“Why can’t I watch?” you ask, leaning forward. “You watch me do everything.”
He really did watch you do everything. Every time you baked for him, he’d quietly observe from behind, watching you mix each ingredient carefully, making lewd comments that had you hitting him and telling him to go elsewhere. When you’d study for exams, he’d just watch you, quietly picking you apart in your head before walking over and stealing your textbook.
“Yeah, ‘cause you look cute doing everything,” he explains, still not looking behind him. “And I’m a sweaty mess right now, baby,” he laughs, glancing over at you.
You groan in frustration, tipping your head back, refusing to go in. He notices, and he’s already walking over to you.
“C’mere, sleepy girl,” he mumbles with a grin, and you’re standing to your feet, a little taller than him now that you’re standing on the steps. He looks up at you, two large, dirty hands pressing into the cotton of your shirt.
“You’re all dirty,” you mumble to him, and he rolls his eyes, biting down his lip to stop himself from saying something.
“Tried to tell you that,” he ticks his head, squeezing your hips at the same time. “Now, go inside for me,” he tells you, one of his hands sliding down to gently pat your bum.
“Ah–okay, okay,” you relent, and his palm still rests on the curve of your bum through your shirt, squeezing it to make you walk away, and you quickly do. He watches you walk off.
The front door gives as you gently push inside, and you sigh, glancing around the small cabin. It still smells like wood from the fire last night–the fire is still working in the fireplace, a warm glow in the quiet room, and you wander into the kitchen, eyes glancing around the place.
You take a seat at the small dining table, only two chairs at it, just for you and him. Curious eyes peek out of the kitchen window with a little glance, and you notice the rain coming down a little harder, and that’s when your boyfriend comes in through the front door.
“My baby,” he instantly says as he walks into the kitchen, his hair damp, and his palm ruffles the top of your head. “Told you I’d be just a few seconds, didn’t I?” he asks, walking towards the stove.
“Still too long,” you complain, tilting your head to the side.
“Yeah, still too long,” he agrees, shaking his head in disbelief at the comment, and he’s unravelling a bag of white bread.
“Can we do stuff today?” you ask, leaning an elbow onto the wooden table, chin resting in your palm. “Like, maybe we can… go to the lake? You can teach me how to fish, you promised,” you pout, watching your boyfriend.
“Yeah, I did promise,” he admits, shoving two slices of bread into the toaster before turning around and leaning against the counter, arms over his chest. “It’s also raining like hell.”
“Why does that matter?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.
“You’d be whining about the mud in five seconds, baby,” he teases with a little nod of his head. “You can’t even stand when it starts raining when we’re driving.”
“That’s not even true,” you deny with a smile that gives away the lie. “I… I don’t whine, I wouldn’t whine about mud,” you deny even more, and he’s laughing.
“Whiniest thing I’ve met, actually,” he adds, glancing over at his shoulder at the toast. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it–there’s a time and place, and I’m not ready to deal with your whining when it’s raining, and you’re all wet, and grumpy,” he explains, turning away from you to pull the two pieces out of the toaster.
“Time and a place,” you repeat, kicking a stray foot under the table, and you watch his shoulders sag when he notices the innuendo in your tone.
“Time and place, sweetheart,” he agrees, placing the two pieces of golden toast onto a plate.
“Like when?” you ask, staring at his back, and he’s shaking his head, opening up a cupboard to pull out some peanut butter and honey.
“In five minutes if you don’t watch your mouth,” he shoots, a butter knife carefully spreading the peanut butter across the toast.
“What do you mean?” You feign innocence and watch his movements halt as he draws a heavy breath.
“It means…” he starts, turning around with the peanut butter and honey combo on a plate. “I’ll bend you over my knee and have you whining,” he tells you, pushing the breakfast onto the table.
You shift in the wooden chair and look down at the perfect pieces of toast, covered in just the right amount of peanut butter and a generous drizzle of golden honey dripping onto the plate. You sigh and lift the toast to your mouth, taking a bite.
“That’s what I thought,” he teases, taking a seat in front of you, tossing his pack of cigarettes onto his table, his coffee mug being placed on it next.
“My mouth is full, I can’t even respond,” you mumble through a mouthful of breakfast, and he glances up from the cigarette he’s lighting, shaking his head.
“Manners,” he reminds you, flicking the lighter to ignite a flame. “Your daddy taught you better, I know that,” he says through an inhale, turning his head to exhale.
You roll your eyes and thoroughly chew the piece of toast before opening your mouth to show it’s empty, and he smiles at the childish gesture.
“Gross,” he jokes, tapping his cigarette on the designated ashtray at every place he lounges.
“Oh, shut up,” you groan, dropping the half-eaten piece of toast onto the plate. “You’re the grossest person I’ve ever met,” you poke, and he leans forward.
“Right,” he nods, inhaling again.
“Yeah… yeah, right,” you nod, and his eyes narrow.
“How am I gross, baby?” he asks, now leaning back into the chair, his arms crossing, but he still keeps a hand by his mouth, keeping the cigarette close by.
“You… you just are,” you defend uselessly, and he nods in a fake-understanding, shrugging.
“Sweet girl you are, you know that?” he teases, looking at the window. “My sweet girl who likes it when I touch her in public,” he adds, and your eyes widen, instantly red in the face.
“What–stop!” you immediately protest, leaning over the table slightly, your hands gripping the edge.
“No, no, you call me gross, and I’ll call you out for being gross,” he taunts, clicking his tongue. “Making me touch you when we’re staying at your parents, when we’re watching a movie, and I’m gross?” he adds, scoffing.
“Oh, my god, stop it,” you groan, wanting to stretch across the table and cover his mouth.
“All whining in my ear, telling me you’re horny, and your daddy is five feet away from me,” he reminisces, nodding with a laugh. “Yeah–yeah, and then you started to grind into the side of my thigh like you’re in heat, or something,” he adds, making you even more embarrassed.
“Please–oh, my god, shut up!” you practically whine at him, and he’s way too amused.
“You finished, all in your poor underwear,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Made me clean you up when your mom paused the movie to make more popcorn,” he laughs.
You put the toast down and cover your ears, shaking your head in pure horror, cheeks flushed and bright red, and he’s smirking at the reaction to just his words.
“Just saying, sweet thing,” he mumbles around the rim of his coffee cup, drawing in a sip of the bitter black coffee. “You’re gross… and that’s fine, baby,”
After a beat of silence, just that stupid smirk on his face, proud of making you all flustered at nine in the morning, you put your hands in your lap. You have a pout on your face, and he gestures towards the toast with his mug.
“Finish it,” he tells you, tapping his cigarette.
You roll your eyes, and he notices that attitude; the dramatic bite you take, the way you look at him, waiting for a reaction, and he can only smile at the way you’re misbehaving, so damn early.
“Gonna make me forcefeed you?” he prompts, and you grimace, shaking your head as you chew again, slick honey in the corners of your mouth.
The plate is pushed by your hands when you finish, just a few stray crumbs on the plate, and he nods, impressed with the way you managed to stuff two pieces of bread in your mouth so quickly, and he slowly stands up from the chair, walking around to you.
“Hey… hey, what did I do?” you whine, curling into the chair, leaning away from him, and he’s hooking his hands beneath your armpit.
“Just miss your body,” he mumbles casually, picking you up, and easily tossing you over his damn shoulder–you immediately laugh out loud, and he can’t help but feel that warmth settle in his chest at that sound.
A few steps over, and he’s kicking open the bedroom door, tossing you onto the bed, and you whine.
He is just too cute. Fluffy spiky white hair. Books in his hands. Glasses hanging low because he only has two hands that are already full with books and comics. Satoru Gojo — better yet your boyfriend.
After you two started dating his whole life has been about you. He may as well change his name to ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ Because all he has been able to do is think about you.
So much so he had now deemed you his reward after he studied or else he just wouldn’t..
From the moment you two got together you understood what the hype was about nerdie boys. He knew how to use his hands. His tongue. His fucking breath hitching over your clit damn near made you come when those beautiful blue eyes stared up at you. For a nerd he should be sweet right? maybe even shy… Wrong. that wore off months ago.
When he figured out having sex with you was good, really good but making you cum and twitch beneath him was better you wouldn’t think the first word to describe him being cute. Or shy.
He absolutely adored you, what else was there to do besides study? His favourite subject? You. witch beneath him was so much better.
Torturing you with pleasure was on the agenda seven days a week. Literally. Everytime he was done with his homework he seeked out his reward; between your legs.
He tossed his glasses down. Getting up and moving over to the bed quickly. “Baby-baby look! I’m done, I finished my- everything. Even my stuff for tomorrow.” He sat down in front of you cross legged showing you all the papers — the way too difficult math he took that you literally couldn’t even try to begin to understand; barely even getting out of his words excited as he was. “Thats really good baby, I’m pr-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence , one moment Satoru was showing you his homework the next it was scattered across the floor with him scattered on top of you.
He didn’t have a moment to waste. He could barely focus - on studying - while you laid on his bed just doing whatever you were doing, looking delicious as always. His body landed on top of yours. His heavy knitted hoodie, white blouse beneath were still on along with the rest of his layered clothes absolutely suffocating you as he planted heated kisses down your neck muttering thank you’s.
“Satoru-“ you tried to get him off. Your small hands landing on his broad big shoulders. Just because Satoru was a nerd didn’t mean he wasn’t twice as big and strong as you. Often he would laugh about it, his bossy girlfriend didn’t stand a chance.
“M’sorry, I just need you- right now.” He muttered over your skin, your blouse getting ripped open, you could hear the buttons land along the floor somewhere . You gasped his name. “Satoru!” your grabbing at his fluffy white hair to peel him off you. “Stop- ah!” He whined — his pupils blown, lips wide when he faced you. Before you could scold him his lips landed on yours.
Needy and desperate you could barely kiss him back he didn’t even care just wanting to taste every bit of you. His tongue explored your mouth as if he hadn’t been there a million times already.
Your boyfriend was a sweet nerd but also an absolute freak, you felt his wet hot tongue glide over your teeth then gradually over your tongue feeling your soft tongue against his made him rut his hips against yours desperately. You moaned into the kiss, your hands kneeling into his hair suddenly desperate to feel more of him.
“Mm, taste so good.“ he breathed into the kiss, not able to get enough. When he felt you kiss him back weaker he understood he had literally almost sucked all air from you.. he could get obsessive at times.. like he did his other studies. He tossed off his own hoodie afraid he may overheat if he spent another minute in it.
“Mmm-I’m sorry- baby. Ah. Please.” He took your blouse off too but like always he took his sweet time. Tongue trailing over your collar bones. He could taste your perfume and he loved it. He bit and kissed at your skin completely in overdrive of how horny he had gotten. He held himself back for two hours while you laid on his bed doing your own things. The blouse unbuttoned just enough to show your breast. His eyes glistened now when he looked at them exposed — almost exposed. Your stupid pretty bra in the way.
Without another thought his hands went behind your back unclipping the bra. You heard him moan before his glossy, needy blue eyes stared up at you, he made the tip of his tongue pointy barely touching your nipples as he teasingly circled around them. You bucked your hips up to which his strong hand quickly pushed it down — his mouth latching onto your nipple properly. Having you so needy beneath him made him lose it even more. His hands were shaking from excitement as they trailed down your body.
Normally gojo took his sweet time torturing you but right now he needed it too much. His hand slipped into your pants, under you panties. The vibration of his moan on your nipple made you clench around nothing. He could feel your pussy moving he smiled almost nipping you with his teeth.
“Ah-gojo please..” you mewled, already lost to his temptation. How couldn’t you? He knew your body better then you at this point but that wasn’t it. Having your pretty needy nerd above you like this ripping the clothes off you was turning you on more than anything else.
“Mmhm I know baby. I’ll make you feel good, so good.” He whispered letting your nipple spill out of his mouth though he quickly latched onto the other between words. There was no time to speak right now.
He needed to taste you. When your hips bucked again you gasped at the feeling of two fingers stretching you. He bit again at your neck — your collar bones littering little pink marks all across your skin making sure those stupid athletic assholes knew you were his.
His long fingers moved in and out of your slickened heat. He shuddered at the way your walls clenched around his fingers instantly obviously missing him. He needed it on his tongue. Now.
You whined at the feelings of a loss — his fingers barely even graced you before he took them out again, you didn’t even get to whine before being filled up again. He continued with his tongue the exact same way as his fingers - deep inside you. Wet. Thick. He was slurping you up like the maniac he was for you.
Low grunts vibrated from his chest into his throat where they vibrated onto your aching clit where his nose was pressed into. His tongue curled inside of you hitting every spot, all over your body you felt him. He closed his eyes completely, lost I’m bliss as his hips softly bucked into the mattress below his hips. This was all he had wanted. All he needed to go to the rest of his homework for thr week. His hands held your hips steady, flush against the mattress below. No one could take this away from him. Not even you.
You felt his nails slightly dig in moaning at the slight mixture of pressure — pain along the pleasure only he could give you.
Neither of you could speak only moan and pants filling the room as you rutted into his face chasing the orgasm he gladly gave you. Under his tongue he added his middle finger knowing it was the longest and could help his tongue curl up into that special spot that made you flutter so beautifully beneath him…
You hole clenched and unclenched on his tongue, your core shaking as your legs did. Chest falling and rising at the heavy irgasm you just had. The entire building had probably heard you at this point but neither of you cared. Satoru was actually happy he got to let everyone know just how good he made you feel bonus points if your friends heard and you told him later they teased you about it.
You panted heavily coming down from the euphoria of your orgasm. He lapped away at your leaking hole for a good minute before a loud alarm went off startling you.My thighs still trembling at every touch.
“Aha! New record.” Gojo licked his lips jumping up from the bed where you still laid sprawled out like he had imagined those two hours he was working. You looked your most beautiful to him like this.
Ruined and ready to be used.. the fun had only begun.
“You set a timer?!”
Satoru pushed his glasses back onto his face, licking the rest of you off his fingers and stopping the timer.
“Last time you came at 6:35 seconds. The time before? 7:54 seconds. I got you in 5 minutes baby! Well, I’d say 4:40? Yea, it was definitly before the timer went off.” He nodded agreeing with himself like he had written it down mentally, he was too lost in you to properly track the time. He chuckled happy with himself. Proud. “At this point your pussy is more mine then she is yours baby, she likes me better anyways.”
Part of the research he was doing was for you to know how fast he could get that second orgasm going. Would you come faster if you were overstimulated or would it take longer? His curiosity got the best of him again settling down between your legs.
You furrowed your brows thinking he was done..ready to feel him fill you up with his thick cock. “what? Didn’t I say I finished everything for tomorrow? I deserve two rewards..” he smiled with his teeth so sweet. He would be getting many more rewards than that, especially since he had all the time in the world now to be devoted to his delicious girlfriend. And research.
a/n just thought the gifs were cute because they remind me of molecules, gifs are from pinterest. i was busy writing a collage of this (needy nerd type ish..??) with multiple jjk men but i got impatient and wrote Gojos first he'd be soooo cute with glasses on and his comics etc ahh!!
i hope this is somewhat ejoyable.. idk if I like dis fr
Synopsis 𖦹.ᐟ : you were at a dead end with jobs so you decided to listen to your friend's advice and look for some rich family to look after but you weren't prepared to be faced with such a handsome man to be the dad.
Warning : mdni, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec) , p in v , fingering, multiple female orgasms, light nipple play.
Wc : 2.4k
A/n : this is for jaehyun's discharge finally 🔥🔥
You Look at the big house in front of you that might even be considered a Palace for you, you walk in your worn out converse to the door and knock on it waiting for someone to answer the door, rethinking your life decisions, you were here for a babysitting job, though you dislike kids, never was your cup of tea, you were here because well, let's say you need a part-time job, or something on the side to save up while being able to study, you were broke, your bank account having spider webs in it from how empty it was, you wouldn't even be able to be in college but you tried to apply for scholarships and you were lucky enough to get accepted, thankfully they provided dorms and breakfast, and since you come from not a very rich family, you had to get a job, as a barista, you worked as a bartender, but you'd last a semester before some of them shut down due to no customers.
Babysitting was never your cup of tea, you did it once when you were a teen to get some cash in summer and it was the worst experience of your life, all the crying, putting up a fight for stupid stuff, wanting to stay past bed time and not just listening–choosing to whine instead begging you to soften up and let them stay ‘five more minutes’ for the nth time. You couldn't handle it and it was the last time you even considered looking at children – or considering having one.
But your friend told you about these rich people and how they rarely even look after their own children so naturally they look for a babysitter, so naturally you gave the thought some time, and so you decided to look for some children to look after, looking through websites and parenting communities, your eyes full on one of the posts
‘Looking for a babysitter for my girl! She's 5 years old and needs someone to play with” so you send to them – assuming it's a mom not looking much into the profile
“Hello, ma'am I've seen your post about needing a babysitter and I was wondering if you're still available?”
sending a message like you did to the other parents.
It took a week for anyone to answer , you thought you were too late asking to be some kid babysitter– until you got a message
“Oh yes hello, thank god , may I ask when you are free?” They ask, a little too straightforward but sure
“I'm available tomorrow all day” you send after checking the account. It was anonymous, no profile photo, no name it only says jeong, what kind of name is that? You think but shrug it off , and it takes few minutes before they answer
“That's perfect , can you come tomorrow at 11 am?” They send and you raise an eyebrow. What kid would possibly be up at 11 am? But you send a quick message agreeing to the time regardless.
And here you are standing in front of the door, it was exactly 11 am. You waited outside for a minute before the door was opened and if you said this wasn't the most beautiful man you've seen, you'd be lying.
“Hello? I'm here for uh Mrs.jeong? Must be the wrong house-”
“No you're right, I'm mr.jeong” he says, his voice a bit deep it was almost scary, he moves away a bit and lets you in, you walk in looking at the minimalistic yet rich design
“I didn't quite catch your name” he says and you tell him your name
“Okay so we need to talk first” he says
“Oh it's okay I wait for Mrs.jeong” you smile awkwardly
“There's no Mrs.jeong” he says and your smile drops slightly, well shit you just embarrassed yourself in front of a man you've met a minute ago.
“Ah I see, well yeah sure” you nod and he leads you to the living room, he gives you his daughter's schedule and all the rules she has to follow and all the rules you have to follow.
“Are we clear here?” He asks and you nod awkwardly
“You'll be paid 500 per day” he says and suddenly the job isn't so scary
“When can I start?” You ask
“Now.” He says and stands up
“I have to go to work , she comes back from school at 2 pm” he clears, what type of job starts at 12 pm? You think internally but nod anyway, he hands you a paper with his number before leaving.
You hear a knock assuming it's his daughter, you open the door and there she was, looking like her father, she walks inside and raise an eyebrow at you but doesn't question anything regardless, she goes to her room to change out of her clothes, there were some food already prepared for her, probably made by a some expensive chef or something.
“So, do you like cartoons?” You ask nonchalantly and can see her eyes obviously spark up as she nods and after her meal you open a Disney film for her to watch, she pats next her signaling for you to sit and you do so, burying her face into your side before Turing her head to watch the cartoon.
Soon enough she was falling asleep on you, you turned off the TV and took her to her bed. And you stay in the living room until her dad comes home.
It has been two months since you started babysitting June, you've also gotten closer to Mr.jeong– who told you later to call him jaehyun, you never really questioned what happened to her mother, she never mentioned, there are no photos of her, did she give birth and leave? You didn't really care.
You knock on the door and wait til someone opens, jaehyun opens the door, standing there looking every inch of the rich man he is
“Oh hello y/n” he smiles softly, his deep dimples showing and honestly it take every ounce of control not to jump onto him and kiss him on the spot
“Oh hello jaehyun” you reply before walking into the house
“She didn't go to school today since she was sick, take good care of her okay?” He says and you nod
“Daddy?” You hear the little voice coming from behind jaehyun
“Sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?” He scolds lightly
“Can you stay home?” she pouts and looks up at him, her eyes looked droopy and looked adorable overall.
“Sorry sweetie but daddy gotta work okay? I'll try to come early” he says and gives her a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
You take her to her bed and tuck her in.
“I wish you were my mommy” she says suddenly and you giggle assuming it's just the fever talking
“I'm sure your mommy loves you more” you tease
“My mommy left me” she pouts
“I heard daddy say so before when he thought I was asleep” she pouts
“You should rest, I'll grab your medicine okay?” You say suddenly and leave the room, that's why there are no photos of the mysterious woman, June herself probably never met that woman, this poor kid knowing so much at such a young age, you shake your head and grab her medicine.
Jaehyun did come early as he promised but she was already deep in her sleep
“How is she doing now?” He asks worriedly
“She's fine now, her temperature is normal, she's just asleep” you say and he sighs gratefully
“Thank you y/n” he says and pulls out your money for the day but with extra cash, you were gonna refuse to take more money but it won't really matter to him so why the hell would you do that?, you take the money and put it in your bag and grab the bag before leaving.
Today was the weekend, which is usually when you don't go but jaehyun tells you it's ‘urgent matters’ so you go after he says he's going to pay you more, you arrive at 6 pm, which is a weird time but better than being awake at 11 am on a weekend.
You knock the door as usual and jaehyun opens after a minute as usual, he was wearing one of these expensive looking suits
“Hey Jaehyun, where is June?” You look around, used to June being around the door if she wasn't at school
“She's at her grandparents house” that makes you freeze, why the hell would he call
“So why did you call then?” You raise an eyebrow
“I wanna take you out” he says and you look at him like he's speaking a foreign language and then look at down at your your hoodie and the jeans that have had permanent pen stains on them
“Well I must be overdressed then” you say sarcastically earning a chuckle from him
“Well come in, I got you a present” he says and invites you inside
And leads you to his room which you remember was prohibited for you to enter and now he's inviting you to his bedroom you walk in after him and find a box sitting on the bed and he signals for you to open it
There was laying a gorgeous dress and a new pair of shoes which surprises you
“Oh wow that's- thank you” you say awkwardly
“Well wear it, I'll wait outside” he say and you nod
You get dressed and though you're wearing heels it felt nice to wear something other than these sneakers.
You walk out of the room and find jaehyun in the living room and his face lights up when he sees you, you notice his ears starting to redden up.
“Took you long enough” he teases showing off his dimples as he smirks slightly when you roll your eyes.
He takes you to one of these fancy restaurants where everyone is dressed like they're going to the met gala.
After you both order, you talk about things to keep the conversation going
“You know , June really likes you. She's had nannies and babysitters but she never liked them as she does with you.” He says and smiles slightly
“That's sweet, I don't even like kids but maybe I've changed my mind now, well kinda” you shrug and he chuckles
After eating the main course and dessert obviously he drives back to his house
“This was very nice jaehyun, I can't remember the last time I went out” you say and it is true, you only babysit June on your breaks and weekends when jaehyun is busy doing god knows what and you want to graduate so you go home and study your ass off falling asleep on the desk, yeah..not your best time.
“It's nothing, I do have to thank you for taking care of June after all” he says, his dimples popping.
He goes to the kitchen and pour you a glass of his finest wine, sliding the glass in front of you before pouring some for himself as well, his eyes stay fixed on you as you drink the red liquid
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask awkwardly
“Like what?” He teases and raises an eyebrow.
“I don't know, like you wanna eat me maybe?” You shrug and finish your drink
“Maybe I do” he says
“Well I give you permission to” you say sarcastically and you can see his eyes darken , he walks to you and helps you stand, his hand on the small of your back leading you to his bedroom.
“Daddy must be starving huh?” You chuckle and he smiles
“Oh you don't wanna know” he pushes you onto the bed , he unbuckles his belt and removes his dress shirt , your dress was short enough he can see a hit of your white panties.
He climbs on top of you and leans down peppering kisses over your neck and chest
And bites down on your neck before pulling away, sliding down to your core, he pushes your dress up and slides your panties to the side burying his face in your cunt, his tongue licking up and down your clit, your hips buckle your fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you let out weak moans, his fingers rise to your clit entering you which makes you gasp due to their low temperature, but get adjusted to it, he curls his fingers up which makes you grip on his fingers before coming all over his fingers.
When he's off you you can't help but stare at his sculpture abs and the happy trail on his abdomen leading to his cock, he takes his pants and boxers off showing off his thick and veiny length standing tall and proud over his stomach, he climbs on top of you again and looks down at you but slamming into you hitting your spot immediately, thrusting in and out of you the pleasure flying straight to your brain, you release a string of moans and whimes , begging him to fuck you even more and he doesn't miss a beat, and oh did he look dreamy, all sweaty and sticky, hair sticking to his forehead, his breath heavy , you were snapped out of your thoughts when he pinches one of your nipples making you wince and whimper in pain mixed with pleasure, you were reaching your climax, he felt it when your walls grip tightly on his cock milking him desperately your body aching for release, your eyes roll , hands gripping his shoulders pretty sure leaving marks there, as you come all over his dick, his pace fasten when he feels close not stopping even when you beg him weakly too tired to stop him, his pace slowing down when his loads empties in you filling you up with his white sticky liquid.
He lay next to you , you were almost passed out.
You wake up and find the bed empty and look around you to find jaehyun already awake and dressed up
“I'll go to work, June is coming at 5 pm” he says, his tone neutral
“Oh..yeah okay” you say awkwardly and grab your jeans and shirt that you were wearing
“You looked good yesterday” he says
“Oh yeah all thanks to you the dress-”
“I mean naked.” He cuts you off, teasing you and his lips curl into a knowing smirk when he sees your flushed face.
