Synopsis: You arrive in Japan with a soft heart and nothing to lose until the meanest, the most popular fuckboy in your class chooses you as a bet, smiling at you like it means something. While you fall for him counting the petals of the roses he gave you, he’s only counting days to get in your pants.
Tags: Angst, emotional manipulation, bet trope, power imbalance, fear of abandonment, slow burn, smut, college AU, soft reader, rich mean Gojo, lots of drama.
Preview
You arrive wrapped in soft colors. Pink hoodies, sleeves too long, hands hidden. Your smile is automatic, practiced, something you give away so people won’t ask questions you don’t know how to answer in a language that still feels borrowed.
Japan is beautiful. And it reminds you every day that you don’t belong to it. Finance classes are neat. Structured. Predictable.
People aren’t.
You sit alone because it’s safer. Because you’ve learned that attachment hurts more when you know you’ll have to leave again. Because your heart is too soft for goodbyes that never warn you before they happen. You don’t hear the whispers at first.
You don’t see the way eyes follow you down the hallway. You don’t know that your quiet has made you interesting. Or that interesting, to the wrong people, means target.
The bet doesn’t start with you. It starts at a party you’ll never attend.
Laughter. Alcohol. Ego.
“She won’t even last a week,” Toji says.
“She barely talks,” Sukuna laughs.
And then his voice cuts through them—lazy, confident, cruelly amused.
“Thirty days,” he says.
“Thirty days and she’ll be in love with me. Head over heels. Thinking about me when she wakes up”
A pause. A smirk you don’t see.
“And yeah—she won’t be walking away untouched, would practically be dying to have me bust in her”
They laugh because they know his reputation.
Because he’s never failed. Because girls are games and feelings are temporary for him.
Gojo Satoru doesn’t chase.
He collects.
You don’t know his name yet. You just know the feeling of being watched for the first time when he finally notices you.
You don’t know that your shyness feels like a challenge to him. That your politeness feels like permission.
That your softness is something he thinks he can bend. He doesn’t know how your chest tightens when voices rise.
Doesn’t know how deeply words sink into you. Doesn’t understand that you don’t fall easily—you fall completely.
He thinks this will be easy. That you’ll blush, giggle, unravel. That you’ll mistake attention for affection.
What he doesn’t realise is that the closer he gets, the harder it is to remember why this was supposed to be a joke.
Thirty days.
A bet built on arrogance.
A heart that already knows how to break quietly.
And a boy who has never learned what happens when the game stops being fun.
unlike your other exes, satoru never asked for too much. your previous boyfriends wanted parties big enough to shake the neighborhood, gifts expensive enough to dent your savings, and you running around trying to make everything perfect just to earn a half-hearted kiss and a thanks, babe.
but sweet, hopelessly in love, genius-in-a-lab-coat satoru?
his request was different, but always the same every year.
“i just want you,” he said, pushing his glasses up with his wrist and that shy little smile. “like really. just you.”
“are you sure? you say that every year,” you mutter, already thinking of other gifts and surprises to give him.
“because every year i just want you.”
satoru didn’t have to convince you much after that. how could you refuse your over-six-foot tall baby when he pulls out his puppy blue eyes and biggest pout you’ve ever seen?
you have asked him again later that day at his dorm if he wanted anything else—at this point you’re willing to spend money on a brand new analog watch to replace his cracked one—but he just whined and started unwrapping you like a gift, throwing your clothes everywhere and kissing each surface of skin revealed to him. your clothes were scattered on the floor while he remained clothed, unable to wait any longer to start his descent on your body.
and then satoru was gone.
at first he kept licking in slow circles, taking his time, making you whimper with each unhurried stroke. but then his pace increased, finding a rhythm that had you going incoherent. he had you cursing, pleading, and moaning his name over and over.
“toru,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his sheets. “nghh—r-right there.”
“mm, yes, yes, i’m here,” he mumbled against your flesh, glassy but lust-filled blues looking up at you. “you’re so pretty, baby. so pretty for me. i want to stay here forever.”
more moans tumbled out of your lips as satoru continued lapping at your sopping folds, tongue darting inside and prodding against your sweet spot. your hips jolted, your breath breaking, and satoru practically moaned at the reaction. his eyes fluttered, glasses slipping down his nose. he was the picture of a man who had absolutely forgotten it was his birthday and only had you and your taste on his mind.
he made a pleased, dreamy little sound. “see, baby? who needs a party and a cake when i can have you singing like this? so so sweet for me. don’t wanna leave this pussy.” satoru was lost, babbling against your cunt, letting his spit run down your folds and lapping it all up again.
“yo-you’re still gonna get—hnngg—something else,” you tried to argue, but your mind was already hazy and all that you could focus on was his hot wet muscle that kept on wriggling against your walls.
he whined. “but my girl is already giving me the best present ever.” he made a long and loud sluuurrpp that had your hips twitching, more juices gushing out of your hole. “see? she knows what i want—mhmm—making me lose my mind.”
one of his hands slid under you, gripping your ass to hold you steady against his mouth, while his other hand finally joined the fray. coated with your slick juices, two fingers easily slid inside you, crooking expertly, finding a spot that made you see white.
“i’m so close, toruuu. g-gonna cum,” you cried, your moans echoing off the walls of his room.
“yesyesyes. give it to me, baby. c’mon, i want to taste you please.” he was moaning, eyes screwed shut from the pleasure of eating you. he kept rambling, already drunk on the taste of your weeping cunt. “please—nghh—please, i want it—want you—”
satoru forced his eyes open to drink in the sight of your dazed, fucked out expression. it always did something to him, and it only spurred him on, groaning against your syrupy cunt, heart swelling at the fact that only him can make you undone like this.
he redoubled his efforts, his tongue lashing at your clit in rapid, perfect circles while his fingers pressed deep. the coil inside you wound so tight until it finally snapped. the orgasm violently ripped through you, a silent scream stuck in your throat for one endless second before it broke free. your body bowed, shuddering violently, every fiber in your muscle seizing.
“toruuu, wa-wait. i ca-can’t,” you whimpered, getting overstimulated from his relentless assault, pushing weakly at his head.
“give me more please. can’t stop. i want more,” he babbled nonsense. “please please please, i want this. it’s my birthday. more more more more more.”
after pulling another mind-wracking orgasm out of you, satoru finally lifted his head, chin glistening. some of your juices painted his fogged up glasses, but the boyish grin on his face told you he didn’t care. with his crooked glasses, creased white button-down, and hair sticking out in wild angles, he looked like a scientist who just blew up his own experiment and was thrilled about it.
he crawled up your body, planting soft kisses on your skin while you tried to even your breaths. he kissed you with so much passion, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. he slowly grinded against you, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your sticky, sensitive clit.
when he broke the kiss, he nuzzled into your neck as you tried to catch your breath. you were boneless and completely ruined in the best way possible.
“happy birthday, toru,” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.
he propped himself up on an elbow and gave you a sheepish look.
“let’s try with whipped cream this time?”
this was clearly rushed and not proofread aaaa just wanna publish something before i continue on my nanami fic
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, angst, misunderstandings, slight miscommunication troupe, slight confessions, dramatic scenes, mentions of sexual harassment, etc.
❧ Word Count | 6.4k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——The following morning, Choso wakes up alone. As he rustles around in the bed and comes to the realization that you’ve already left him, he can’t even say he’s surprised.
Yesterday was a lot for you—perhaps more than you’d let on, crying and confessions aside. Knowing you, Choso figures you couldn’t bear to wake up wrapped up in his arms as you have in the past.
After all, you did tell him you always felt like shit after using him and treating him like a second option. There’s a lingering feeling in his chest that’s telling him he should be more concerned about his compliance with constantly being your rebound but, that feeling is quickly snubbed by the profound emotions he’s had building up for you over the years.
Luckily for him, and before he has time to dwell on his personal dilemmas, the sweet scent of breakfast creeps its way into his room to distract his mind. Choso shifts around in his bed, lazily pushing the covers off his body and forcing himself to sit up as he figures the kitchen is where you’ve disappeared off to. Your decision to make breakfast must be serving as some short form of therapy after everything.
Or at least that’s what Choso tells himself as he soon slips off into his bathroom instead of the kitchen with a messy head of hair and morning breath. While he’s in there vigorously brushing his teeth, the smell of espresso enters his space along with distant sounds of you struggling with various cookware.
After freshening himself up, Choso makes his way out there to see what all the clatter and hushed fuss is about. He walks out to spot you struggling to make coffee and reading something from your phone with your brows all made up. The first thing that comes to his mind is whether or not you were possibly reading steps Gojo had sent you in the past about brewing a certain way.
When he catches the way your eyes light up upon figuring out the solution to whatever your recent issue is, he deems his assumption to be correct.
You place your phone down somewhere to your left and return to the task at hand with the proper steps in mind, having not realized Choso trudged his way out of his bedroom just yet. He continues to quietly watch you while fully entering the kitchen, plucking up a small piece of bacon from a freshly prepared plate and tossing it into his mouth before filling the space directly behind you.
Your lack of awareness was kinda cute, but Choso interrupts said awareness—or lack thereof—by finally wrapping his arms around you and chuckling at the way you flinch as his chin meets your shoulder to rest on. You freeze and slowly turn your head to try and look at him but he stops you from doing so by quickly nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“My bed is s’cold without you,” He mumbles into your skin before sighing, “Why’d you leave me?”
In the time you both had distanced yourself from one another, you almost forgot how clingy he could be. Your shoulders relax from the initial tension that’d settled within them and you find yourself sporting a small grin, “To make breakfast, obviously.”
Choso hums against you and then lets his lips ghost across your neck, “What for? I could’ve had you for breakfast.”
Your elbow shoots back to nudge him in his gut playfully and he huffs in response before pulling off of you. Then you look back over your shoulder and meet his eyes with a warning etched into your own, “You had more than enough of that last night.”
At that, he raises his hands up in defeat, “If you say so.” He nods towards the differing plates of food, “What’s all this for, though? Stress cooking again?”
“I-, stress cooking?” Your eyes widen a bit and you release a lighthearted snort at his assumptions, swiveling your attention back to the coffee as you question him in return, “When have I ever done that?”
Choso’s head tilts in thought, finding it the faintest bit endearing that you don’t seem to recall every detail of your shared teenagehood together like he does. “When you failed one of your final exams back in high school,” He reminds you.
“Ew, why do you remember that,” You huff sarcastically.
His hands slip into his pockets and he steps to your right before turning to lean back against the counter as he looks at you, “Because you were at my house when you found out, and it was you ‘n Yuji who nearly burned the kitchen down.”
Oh, now you remember. You suppose Choso’s not exactly wrong nor weird for having this memory in mind. You’d been stressing yourself for months prior to that stupid exam, just to end up failing it regardless of how much you studied.
Throughout that entire time—and with Choso being your best friend—he was right there by your side watching you study for hours ‘n hours as obtaining the perfect grade in the end was your greatest goal. You even forced the boy to tutor you for a time so you could understand certain topics all the more better.
Even so, all those efforts went down the drain when you received your grades back and had seen you’d failed no matter how hard you tried not to. Which is ultimately what led to that night in the kitchen where you tried to bake your sorrows away, the smell of sweets drawing in a very young Yuji into the kitchen to help in hopes of taste testing everything.
The kid was quite the little helper, but he was also a big distraction. The balance between making sure he wasn’t eating concerning amounts of cookie dough and checking the oven when you were supposed to proved to be a bit too much for you to handle.
Thus resulting in Choso waking up from a nap to the burning smell of—what was supposed to be—cookies.
“...He offered to help, if I recall correctly,” You murmur softly as your shoulders slump from the realization of both Choso’s easy reading over your actions and the memory itself.
Your best friend manages a smile between lifting a hand to wipe the sleep away from his eyes, “Yeah, I know.”
Then a short, soft moment of silence stretches on between the two of you—only the sound of your steady movements around the kitchen left to fill it.
In truth, Choso had missed this more than he thinks he’s expressed so far. He’s known you for longer than he thinks he’s known himself in a philosophical sense, so not having you around the apartment for all those months took more of a toll on him than he’d realized.
The angsty mess of a conversation had already taken place between the two of you, he already expressed everything he needed to. So, why does he feel like something’s missing?
You’re standing right here in his kitchen, the same kitchen the two of you used to frequently share together, and yet there’s still a nagging feeling in his chest that’s telling him there’s a major factor he’s not taking into consideration.
Is it Gojo? Is Choso never going to feel at peace until he knows things with you and that guy has all been worked out?
If that’s the case then…
“So, what’s stressing you out?” The tone of Choso’s voice breaks through the silence next, causing you to blink out of your own foggy thoughts.
Discomfort breaks out against your expression in reaction to where his question leads your mind. You’d done well so far spending the last hours or so not thinking about it again—about him.
“You know what,” Your words exit in a clipped fashion, answering his question without really answering it.
Choso slowly turns around again, as if he’s too tense to remain still, and leans against the counter with his elbows holding him up, “Are you gonna talk to him?”
One very simple question seemed to be all it takes for a distressed set of dialogue to vomit out of you.
“What’s there to talk about?” You’re scoffing, “He and Hori made out, I don’t think there’s any conversation worth having after that. Plus, he didn’t even try looking for me after the fact. I have no missed calls, no texts, nothing. If he cared, or if kissing Hori was some kind of mistake,” You pause to look over at Choso, “He would’ve reached out.”
He intentionally avoids your eyes, deciding to quietly listen to you shuffle around him as you go to fix up two plates of food. That is what attracted him into the kitchen in the first place, after all.
Plus, you had a point—if what happened that night was some sort of mistake as Choso is confusingly sure it was, then Gojo would’ve tried to reach out. Or hell, the man would be at the door right now just like he was all those months ago.
After a few minutes, you’ve set two plates down at the table and Choso manages to pry himself away from the counter and trudge over to it to sit down and eat with you. It’s silent as both of you eat at first, your individual thoughts consuming the space of which continued conversation should’ve been occupying.
Choso’s fork scrapes against his plate at an unintentionally elevated pitch that echoes on before he lets out a frustrated sigh, “What if he just doesn’t know what to say?”
It was clear that the question had been ringing throughout his mind during all that silence.
“This is gonna sound real cliche but,” Your shoulders lift to shrug, “Surprisingly enough, Gojo always knows what to say.”
Even the way you refused to refer to him as Satoru now was something the man across from you picked up on. Had the name you once breathed out so endlessly left a stain on your tongue so agonizing that it could no longer be uttered with the same passion anymore?
You look up from your food suddenly with a cocked brow, “And why are you taking up for him anyway? I thought you didn’t like the guy?”
“I don’t,” Choso says immediately, “But you do.”
That throws you off.
“...So?” You scoff again, fork getting loose within your grasp as all your attention melts into this conversation.
“So, by default I have to take the feelings of everyone involved into consideration.” He explains, “Even his.”
You mull over his words for a couple seconds, noting the way Choso’s still refusing to look at you during the entire duration of this conversation. “Are you saying you think I should talk to him?” You ask.
“Maybe,” he shrugs in return.
“I shouldn’t have to be the one to reach out,” You were starting to grow annoyed with the fact that you had to repeat this over and over just for your best friend to understand. “A-And you’re the one who’s been telling me he’s an asshole for months. If he wanted to clear things up with me, he would.”
The way you reminded Choso of his own claims to you felt rather random. He knows what he’s said, but it’d be nice if you disregarded those words just this once.
“I was just saying that maybe there’s more to this than you know.” Choso murmurs, reaching for a nearby napkin to wipe his mouth off, “You were asleep down in that basement for a while before I found you, y’know.”
You blink, “And you think he went looking for me in that time?”
“He could’ve.”
It felt like this conversation was running around in circles. The more either of you spoke, the less you saw eye to eye on the topic.
So, you continue to press Choso for an explanation, “Why don’t I have any missed calls or texts then?”
“I can’t explain that,” He tells you.
You find yourself narrowing your eyes at him skeptically, “So why are you trying to?”
“What?” Choso finally breaks out of whatever daze he’d been in and his eyes flick up to you with surprise widening them out, “I-I’m not, I just… I don’t want you to regret not doing anything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.” He explains again. Though, he feels like he’s said this already. “If you like him like you say you do, and if clarification on that Hori situation is what you really want, get it. You’re only gonna hurt yourself more if you leave yourself to your assumptions or if you spend all this time waiting for him to do something he clearly has no intentions on doing.”
You don’t know what to make of his advice anymore. One moment Gojo’s an asshole and a guy you should be staying away from at all costs, and the next Gojo’s a guy you should be chasing after for further clarification on situations that never should’ve happened in the first place!
It was one big, ugly mess and you were really starting to hate it. What you wouldn’t give to go back a few months where things felt less complicated—where your situationship with Gojo wasn’t a situationship at all and just a harmless crush that complicated nothing more than your heart and your heart alone.
With that in mind, you let a softened breath depart from your lips before breaking away from the eye contact with Choso and returning to your food, “You give really good advice for someone who doesn’t take his own.”
At that, Choso feels his heart twinging.
It kinda hurts to hear you say that to him. You weren’t wrong—not by a longshot—but that didn’t mean it stung any less to hear the woman he’s been pining for tell him that he should've taken his own advice a long time ago instead of being an idiot for all these years.
“I’m.. working on that, as you can see.” Is all he can respond with as his eyes grow solemn and he mirrors you by downcasting his vision and focusing on his food instead.
You didn’t know it but he was wishing for the same thing as you now—that things could go back to the way they used to be. Funnily enough, Choso quite liked it back when you were crushing on Gojo.
Did it annoy him to no end? Sure, but that’s just because he was jealous. Putting those negative feelings aside and blatantly ignoring them as a whole, Choso realizes that at least when you were crushing on Gojo things were simple. It wasn’t a matter of who liked who or what really happened when, or anything ridiculous as it was now.
And above all else, you were happy. Wildly oblivious, but happy.
For the nth time this morning, both of you let silence envelope you. This time it’s not as uncomfortable or tense as the first few times, since the majority of the conversation that needed to take place finally did, but that doesn’t make it any less noteworthy.
You eventually get up from the table first, letting your chair scrape the floor as if to hopefully break Choso out of his own thoughts.
Which, luckily, does exactly what you wanted it to and leads Choso to follow you back into the kitchen within the next few minutes. As you’re washing dishes, he comes behind you and slips his own into the sink—knowing he’s much too close to you but caring little to nothing about the lack of personal space by the time your head instinctively turns his way.
When the two of you meet eyes, he feels his heart leap within his chest.
God, how could he have spent so long being such a fucking idiot? You lived with him for all these years, grew up with him prior to that, and still it took one—arguably insignificant—guy to come into your life and unwittingly sweep you off of your feet for him to understand that he’s never going to feel for someone as deeply as he feels for you?
In that very moment does Choso Kamo deem himself to be more than an idiot. Maybe if he had—
“What about you?” You whisper, cutting off all his self-depricating thoughts with a single, painfully soft question.
Choso just stares at you dumbfoundedly, “What?”
“If I do end up getting everything with Gojo cleared up,” You glance away from just a moment. Then back to him, “What happens to you? To.. to us?”
Us? The word bounces around in Choso’s mind.
There probably would’ve been an us at some point had you never gone into that stupid coffee shop. But, that some point likely would’ve taken years anyway. Your best friend is too much of a fool to accept his own feelings for you unless he sees it being reciprocated to someone that’s not him.
Does that make him a cuck, in a sense?
His head shakes as he realizes he’s letting his thoughts trail far too off track and instead he whispers back to you, “The same thing that always happens. I wait.”
Choso wishes he didn’t see the way your eyes fell down to his mouth like his every word were something to watch instead of listen to. It’s a harmless look. Or at least it should be. It really, really should be.
And yet, nothing about the way your gaze traces the outskirts of his mouth feels harmless. Nothing about how close the two of you are to one another feels harmless. Nothing about the very fabric of your entire relationship is harmless whatsoever.
“And if all that waiting is for nothing?” You ask, unknowingly causing Choso to lean just a few inches closer.
“How can it be for nothing if I’m waiting for you,” He breathes back with an intentionally long pause in between his words as if that’s where he wanted the statement to end—as if that’s perhaps where the statement should’ve ended. “To be content, that is.” He adds on shortly after like some sort of precaution.
For what exactly, you’re unsure of. Probably his own feelings—which still seem to be unbelievably complicated, more so than he’s willing to let on.
Then, he finds his eyes mapping the frame of your face only to soon land on the curve of your mouth. It’s unfair how strong a pull you have on him without even doing anything.
Especially now in this moment where he’s supposed to be tugging himself away from you in sake of not hurting himself. Yet every time you’re in mind, the concept of hurting himself and loving you seems to coexist in a way he cannot find it in himself to be concerned with.
His heart is telling him to kiss you—screaming at him to do so, really. But his mind-, oh, his poor, scattered mind is telling him that he should do anything but. That he should turn away now before he complicates things for you any further than he already has.
Which is exactly why his eyes shut and his lips move on their own. They don’t find yours, though. Instead, his lips meet with your cheek as he kisses you there gently and somehow that gesture feels as though it’s the answer to all questions. Somehow Choso kissing you on the cheek is the only thing that makes sense.
As well as him lifting to do the same to your forehead, his hand coming up to hold the other side of your face while his lips press into your skin deeply—like the moment itself is to be saved and pocketed for another time.
“Cho-,” You tried to whisper his name to ask for something else, but he pries his mouth away from you and shakes his head before grinning.
“If you won’t go talk to him for yourself then,” He uses the hand at your cheek to lift your face up, “At least do it for me.”
You stare at him longingly enough to make him wish he never even said that, despite meaning everything he’s uttered to you thus far. Then, rather devastatingly do you nod your head to silently promise that you’ll talk to Gojo for Choso’s sake more than you would your own.
You still don’t understand the sudden change of heart Choso’s had given everything that’s transpired, but you can’t say you possess the desire to question him about it any further.
Not to mention the fact that his previous spoken words are still playing in your head. Maybe he really does feel for you most when things between you two are all messy.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Days blend into weeks before anything new happens.
The promise you made to Choso was still something you very much decided you’d act on, but neither of you ever specified when, so you would be taking your sweet time to reach out to Gojo.
You can’t say you were looking forward to doing it, anyway. The possibility of Gojo two-timing you for all those months you spent falling for him was a reality you truly did not want to face. You hoped more than anything that Choso’s most recent advice proved to be true and that this was all just some big misunderstanding. But it was hard to invest your hopes into that option as the days went by.
You tried to focus on your studies more in the coming days, figuring that if you’re gonna have some time away from stupid matters of the heart, you might as well set your mind back on what it was supposed to be on in the first place.
The season of finals had fallen upon you and it was only right that acing the ones that mattered was at the top of your priorities list. Luckily enough for you, this served as the perfect excuse to keep Choso from pestering you about the whole Gojo thing.
By the time the brutal period of finals had passed and you felt academically spent, you were in the full season of winter where the cold decided to consume every space available.
You’d been a good two days into your break for the chilly season when you finally figured out what you were going to say to Gojo once you approached him. It took a lot of time to think over—of course—but you decided that regardless of what really happened between him and Hori, you were going to hear him out with an open heart.
Choso’s feelings were still something you contemplated heavily amid that, but seeing as he was hellbent on only telling you he loves you when you treat him like shit… you decided that the healthier option for you heart lies somewhere in figuring your shit out with the blue-eyed nuance you’ve been crushing on.
Currently, your thumbs hover over his contact in your phone.
You’d visited it time and time again but never got yourself to type anything out or call him. Part of you wonders if he’s done the same—stared at your contact for hours and thought about reaching out to you, only to shy away from doing so in the end.
If he did, you can’t help but wonder why? What reason would Gojo have to not talk to you when he’s the one who went kissing someone else after months of treating you like you were his girlfriend. He had to feel guilty or shameful for it, right? Or… had he really kissed her with intent?
That question makes your heart cave inward as if someone had their cruel fingers wrapped around it and decided to squeeze. You hated the idea alone.
In that aspect, you wish you were more like Choso who could still feel for someone even when they treated them terribly. It was a toxic trait to be envious of but maybe if you carried said trait, you wouldn’t be hurting so much right now.
One call could probably fix this whole thing.
There’s rain pattering against your bedroom window while you’re staring at your unmoving phone screen, and you can hear the distant roars of thunder outside. It’s too gloomy of a day for you to have that conversation, no? If the latter of your questions turn out to be true, then wouldn’t the weather only heighten how much reality hurts?
That’s probably some superstition or excuse you’re using to avoid hitting that call option glowing on your phone, but is that really so bad? You’re not the only one who’s been using superstition as an excuse to not reach out, after all.
The sudden sound of something knocking against the apartment’s front door a total of six rhythmic times causes you to flinch and turn your head towards your closed bedroom door. Who or whatever it was must’ve been banging on that door pretty damn hard for you to be able to hear it from where you were, even though you didn’t have any sort of sound occupying your room at the moment.
You push yourself away from the blankets you’d buried yourself under and shift out of bed, tucking your feet into some rather cute house slippers Choso gifted you shortly after you began to frequent the apartment again. Then you trudge towards your bedroom door and take a peek outside towards your best friend’s room to see if he had any plans on tending to the knocking before you.
Considering how his door is shut and you can hear music playing from beyond it, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes as you exit your room and make way for the door. Now, there’s a thought in the very back of your mind wondering—perhaps even hoping—that the person you open up this door to will be Gojo.
How cliche would that be? The winter season, the temperature being a harsh cold beyond your doors, frosty rain fluttering out from the clouds outside—all paired with (what you imagine to be) a beautifully drenched man who’s finally come to confess his truths to you.
Yeah, that’d be something straight out of a movie.
The thought of which makes you chuckle to yourself as you finally reach the front door and grab ahold of the knob. You find yourself pausing for a moment, heart thumping in your chest as if you already knew who exactly was beyond it, and eyes squeezing shut for long enough to mentally prepare yourself.
Even if it’d be rather dramatic, who else would be standing outside your door in this kinda weather if not Gojo Satoru?
Well, perhaps his closest friend who you’re hardly acquainted with; Geto Suguru.
When you pulled the door open, that man was the last person you could’ve ever expected to see standing there. He stood at the same height as Gojo, rainwater trickled off of his warm skin, and a light puff of visible air clouded out of his mouth as he released a pant.
Did he run here? The question stands in the forefront of your mind, but it’s quickly replaced by one much more probbing—if he had run here, why? Was something wrong?
“Geto?” Your voice is small, hardly heard over the sounds of splattering rain hitting the exterior of your apartment complex.
There’s a look of worry in his violetted eyes, his hair is styled half-up ‘n half-down as it usually is in the rare occurrences that you see him, but the backside of which looks rather unkept—almost like it’d been brushed up against something prior to him standing before you.
Whatever the case may be, it was quite apparent that he’d likely run from a vehicle to here.
Your brows furrow, “What are you doing here—“
“Suguru,” The name is uttered from further down the hall and despite Geto standing right in front of you struggling to catch his breath, your world seems to tip off of its axis as that painfully familiar voice echoes towards you.
Your hand, which had been neatly taut against the edge of the front door, tightens slightly against the wood. You didn’t want to lean outside the doorframe and look down the hallway, honestly. There was hardly a need for you to do so when you knew the owner of that voice far too well.
The man standing in front of you glances down the hall once, then back down at you and exhales shortly. “Three hours,” Geto huffs, “I have been sitting in this idiot’s car—in the rain—for the past three fucking hours listening to him whine and watching him sulk about you. He’s been too pussy to come up here ‘n talk to you himself, so this time I dragged him up myself.”
Your mind all but blanks at the sudden blurt of words. It was obvious Geto was trying to hurry with an explanation so he could leave before Gojo fully caught up to him.
“H-Huh?” You gape.
The man’s eye twitches in annoyance, “Listen, I don’t know what the hell you two have going on—and I long since realized I don’t much care—but for the love of fuck, figure your shit out.”
Getting closer, the man you’ve been avoiding could be heard shouting out to his friend, “Suguru! I didn’t think you’d actually—“
Geto sharply turns his head in that direction and he looks entirely ticked off. “I’ve been telling you for weeks that she’d answer the door, all you had to do was come knock. See?” He gestures at you slightly.
“That’s-,” Gojo’s heard sighing, likely standing just a few feet away from the door now, and sounding equally out of breath as Geto had been. “I-I didn’t think-“
“Grow some balls, man. If you miss her so badly, talk to her,” Suddenly, Geto’s hands are on your shoulders and he’s tugging you out into the hallway, spinning you around, and pushing you towards Gojo, “Here.”
You trip over your feet in the process and end up falling straight into the man’s chest as he approaches, his hands coming to your arms to brace you from toppling over. It was a short moment, but the rapid thumping that strikes your ears most certainly was not coming from the storm outside.
Your hands had instinctively moved to grab at something, and of course that something just so happened to be the fabric of Gojo’s soaking sweater. The earthy smell of rainwater floods into your nose, and you knew the two men must’ve been in the rain for quite some time whilst running here.
Geto’s heard stomping past the both of you without a word, and Gojo’s trying his best to get him to come back without releasing you from his hold. He didn’t like being thrown into this situation so suddenly, clearly.
The two of you stand in place—you, keeping your head down and against his chest—whilst he continues clutching onto your arms and watching Geto leave him alone with you.
And then… It's silent.
Well, at least in terms of dialogue.
You could hear Gojo still panting, breath not yet caught up in his lungs, and his heart was still pounding at an alarming rate. That, and yours wasn’t fairing much better. Neither of you had even met eyes yet and your nerves were already trembling in anxiety.
It would’ve been one thing to have opened your door to him, but to be thrown into his arms so suddenly, and for the both of you to be ever so motionless…
God, it was awkward.
So much so that you’re all stiff in your movements as you find your footing again and manage to step back a little. Gojo’s slow in releasing your arms from the nippy grips of his fingers, and he carefully sets his eyes on you to watch the way you thoughtlessly wipe at your shirt as if doing so would rid the fabric of the recently transferred water.
After which, you finally lift your chin and the two of you make eye contact with one another for the first time in weeks.
Immediately, you notice that Gojo appears as though he hasn’t slept a wink since seeing you last. There’s noticeable bags beneath his eyes, his hair is sodden through from the rain—the whites of it tinging into a silvery hue where the rain had left it flattened against his forehead—and droplets streaming down his face.
You can’t help the softening of your gaze as you take in his appearance. Even though you’re supposed to be upset with him, all over again do you find yourself viewing him as nothing more nor less than an angel fallen from grace.
You wanted to assume that the unkept, murky state of his hair resulted from however long he’d recently been in the rain, but something deep down inside was telling you that this was a product of the state of your relationship with him. His top and bottom set of lashes clung to one another for a second too long with each time he blinked and now things were truly beginning to feel cinematic.
Your fingers twitched just then, as if to reach out for his face and take the flushed coldness of his cheek into the warmth of your palm. Yet, you stop yourself from doing so and let the whim die out inside you.
Gojo’s mouth trembles before he gets any words out, and part of you considers that perhaps the wetness running down his face isn’t all from the rain. He does look a mess, after all. Nothing like the clean kept Satoru you know him to be.
What his friend just told you is replaying in your mind, every detail of it.
They’d been sitting in Gojo’s car for three hours under the rain and discussing you during every minute of it.
“He’s been too pussy to come up here ‘n talk to you himself, so this time I dragged him up myself.” Geto had said.
But what did that even mean? He’s been too pussy? Is this not the first time Gojo’s sat out in your parking lot for hours?
“I’ve been telling you for weeks that she’d answer the door.”
Had Gojo really made a routine out of sitting outside your apartment and sulking? Was he seriously too scared to come talk to you?
“If you miss her so badly, talk to her.”
Well, at least you know you weren’t the only one longing for a conversation in this situation.
But, none of that is going to clear things up for you. One of you have to open your mouth and say something eventually—
“I’m sorry,” The weight of remorse in Gojo’s voice seizes you from your thoughts. Then he falls to his knees with a thud, leading your eyes to broaden in shock. His hands remain neatly clutched into tight fists over his lap, and he drops his head. Voice quivering, “I am so, so sorry.”
Was it true then? Had he and Hori kissed intentionally?
You couldn’t quite speak yet. The words weren’t finding you and you had no clue where to begin.
Drops of water plop down onto the skin of Gojo’s hands and you wonder if they’re from his hair or his eyes again. If it was true, if he had really kissed Hori, why would he think some dramatic act like this is all it takes to get back in your good graces again?
Falling to his knees, avoiding you but watching you for weeks, crying in front of you…
What were you supposed to make of all this??
“Satoru,” Your confusion aside, his name falls from your mouth with an affection you couldn’t hide no matter how hard you tried.
And oh, if he isn’t every bit ruined from hearing it. Only three soft spoken syllables from you and he was already giving you an even more pathetic display, shuffling forward on his knees and reaching up to hold onto your sweatpants as his head leaned against your legs.
Then you heard him sniffle and you couldn’t stop the way your hand moved to run through the damp tresses of his hair, watching the strands curl and slick against your fingers as you did so. His arms sluggishly move to encircle your legs and he hugs you from where he is.
What feelings could a man of his stature have truly succumbed to that results in him placing himself in this position willingly? How deeply did Gojo Satoru honestly feel for you? And why only now are you being shown physical glimpses of it with no lustful actions following?
“What… are you apologizing for?” You whisper.
You had to know before you drowned in your own assumptions too quickly. Nothing had been explained yet and you promised to hear him out with an open heart and mind, so it’d be unfair not to properly question him.
His hands grasp at your clothing a bit before his head begins to move, chin lifting to reveal his face to your sights once more. This time though, you see it clearly that Gojo is in tears.
You’d never seen something so unfairly pretty in your life. His eyes had glossed over entirely, fogs swirling through them from the haze of sorrow, and a welling of tears decorated his lower line of lashes. And beneath that, beneath the translucent sheen of sadness, were the same eyes you’d peered into for hours on end.
In this instance, they reminded you of blue-stained glass.
Gojo’s cheeks were pinkened from the heightened emotions he was experiencing, and his voice still wavered as he answered you. “For not reaching out. F-For being scared-, for everything. I don’t know,” He rambled shakily before tucking his face back down against your legs.
That’s funny. He didn’t apologize for kissing Hori—the very act of which brought you both into this moment.
Something in your chest sinks, and you can’t stop a frown from spilling out into your expression. “So… it really wasn’t a mistake then,” You murmur, horrified by the assumption as to what his reply was about to be.
Gojo physically flinches before moving his head up again. His tears seemed to have halted and the look in his eyes is colder now, “What?”
You meet the dead stare with one of your own, “Kissing her—Hori.”
You’re not sure if you imagine it, but you swear he grows uncomfortable by that name being spoken.
Then Gojo appears to be concerned, “No one told you…?”
The idle movement of your hand in his hair finally comes to a full stop.
⋮ ⌗ ┆frat!gojo x reader except reader isn't easy as hell
(pt. 3)
<- back - next ->
( cw: reader is lowk mean, use of y/n, mentions of alcohol, swearing, suppressed feelings, smut )
9:30 am
you sit up slowly and rub your eyes, smearing last nights make-up around, morning breath so bad you taste it.
it’s your fault for not brushing your teeth last night. but who can blame you, you were exhausted. surprisingly, you don’t have an excruciating headache, it definitely doesn’t feel good but tylenol and some water will easily take care of that.
you groan and get out of bed.
gotta start the day eventually, right?
as you wash your face and brush your teeth, your mind wanders to the night before. looking back on it, you feel awkward. you and satoru have never hung out. and while nothing happened it still felt in a way wrong. it felt like you betrayed yourself in a sense.
you've always sworn to keep your distance from him because you didn't want to get mixed up with a guy like him and yet you somehow did.
again, nothing happened.
so why did you feel so bad?
you decide to ignore it and move past it. what happened last night (more like what didn't happen last night) stays in the past.
you make your way downstairs to have breakfast.
you go with a safe option and just have some toast with light butter. you feel like you might puke anything else up.
after that you retreat back upstairs and into your room. the day has just started but it already feels slow and long.
there's no point in staying locked in your bedroom all day and rotting away. you decide to get changed and head to the library to do homework, maybe you'll get coffee or tea on the way.
everything on campus is within reasonable walking distance so you do exactly that. walk.
it's calm, peaceful, quiet-
"oh y/nnnn!" a sing songy voice calls out.
oh good god.
you feel your shoulders tense as you reluctantly turn around to face the "oh-so-mysterious" voice that called you.
satoru has a smile plastered on his face and him and suguru approach you.
you groan as he gets closer, "what do you want gojo?"
"well that's not a very nice way to greet your best friend who graciously helped you out last night might I add," he says with a grin.
geto laughs before adding on, "we're headed to the library to catch up on some homework, would you like to join us?"
what're the chances they're going to the library at the same time as you? it feels rude to decline the offer especially because you're going there too.
and imagine how awkward it would be for you to say 'oh no thanks!' but then you walk in the exact same direction as them? your options feel limited so, you agree.
gojo of course takes this agreement to heart and is flattered,
"I knew you wouldn't decline, I mean how could you?" he says happily as the three of you walk.
you ignore him and focus on walking. when the three of you arrive you take a seat at a table in the corner. you immediately pull out your laptop and earbuds to turn on music and tune out satoru.
it's not use because as soon as your music is turned on he just pulls your earbuds out of your ears and you glare at him.
"how old are you?" you ask with a snarky tone.
"ouch. someone's grumpy this morning." he says sarcastically his smile never faltering.
he thinks shits sooo sweet. what's he smirking about?
"i'm fine, thanks. i just don't like when you act like a child all the time."
"it's all part of my charm sweetheart." he says with a wink which in return causes you to scrunch your nose up.
"'sweetheart?'" you ask with disgust.
"don't like that one either, huh?"
"why would i like you calling me pet names? you're being weird."
geto laughs hearing your response, "wow gojo, seems like your losing your 'charm.'"
"wowowow i am not losing shit, y/n here just likes to play hard to get."
you roll your eyes at this, "or maybe i just don't like you?"
satoru maintains his smile at your words and even chuckles, "i can tell you're warming up to me."
“oh yeah? and what makes you think that?” you say with a snicker.
he shrugs, “I just know."
you decide to just ignore him and go back to your homework.
he’s not fully wrong.
you have warmed up to him. do you want to? no. it feels wrong in a way, you couldn’t pin point why necessarily but you could feel it.
———
11:00 am
the three of you finished your homework and you decided to split ways.
you’ve had enough of gojo for the day. when you get to the house, you go up to your room. you were at the library for a pretty long time, you got a lot done, it was refreshing.
you change into comfy clothes before laying down on your bed.
these past week has felt so off. you’re used to gojo making passes at you but for someone reason it’s felt different. you couldn’t explain how it, it just did.
everything he’s done or said has just stuck. especially last night. but that can’t be right, you were drunk, you weren’t thinking clearly that’s the only reason he seemed to be lingering so much.
are you starting to catch feelings for him?
no. absolutely not. gojo was the least likable person ever. all he does is party, fuck, repeat. the only reason he’s been talking to you more is because he’s looking for his next body.
maybe the reason you were so stuck on him was because that’s what you were looking for too.
it’s definitely been awhile.
the last time you’d had sex was when you were with your ex. meaningless one night stands have never been your thing.
but maybe they could be…
no. that’s a bad idea. gojo was a bad idea.
shoko interrupts your thoughts as she barges into your room.
“hey, a few of us are heading to the beach for to hang out and then do a bon fire, wanna come?”
usually you’d say no, weekends are reserved relax days where you isolate and self-care. but right now going out doesn’t seem like a bad idea.
you turn your head to shoko and nod. “yeah, that sounds fun.”
she stares at you for a moment before a smile slowly creeps onto her face, “really? oh my god this never happens.”
you roll your eyes, “i’m going to change and i’ll be downstairs.”
she smiles and nods, then leaves your room.
you turn back and stare at the ceiling for a moment.
‘this never happens.’
this reminds you of gojo calling you boring. were you really that much of a loser it was shocking when you do go out?
that didn’t make you a loser. you were just a bit anti social and there’s nothing wrong with that. just like there’s nothing wrong for you to change that and step out of your comfort zone.
and that’s exactly what you’re doing tonight; stepping out of your comfort zone.
you get out of bed and change into a bathing suit, nothing crazy, just a plain black bikini.
as you check yourself out in the mirror you get a glimpse of the tattoo on your back. shamefully, you start thinking of how much satoru seemed to like it.
it doesn’t matter what he thinks about it, stop thinking about him so much.
you packed a small tote bag with sun screen, extra clothes, etc. all the necessities. you put on some sandals and a shirt and head downstairs with shoko and the other girls. some drive, others walk.
you and shoko decide to walk. it’s not super far and it’s a nice day.
“so, what made you want to join us today?” shoko says, balancing a cigarette between her lips.
you shrug. “i don’t know, i just.”
“hm. well i’m glad you did, this is going to be fun!”
“i hope so!” you say with a smile.
you guys walk in silence for a moment before she adds on.
“hey… is something going on between you and satoru gojo?” her voice has a humorous undertone.
your eyes widen as you whip your head towards her, “no?! where the hell did you hear that from?”
what could possibly make her think that? because you guys hung out for a little bit at one party, you guys are a thing?
technically it was more then one thinking back on it. satoru always found a way to throw himself at you. but no one said anything then. did someone see you with him and suguru at the library? that was a group thing, why would that spark a rumor between you and satoru.
is satoru saying things? it’s not the craziest idea. he always enjoyed making your life harder.
god, you hated him.
shoko just laughs, you probably sounded more defensive then you should’ve, “i didn’t hear anything, i saw you two leave the party together so i just assumed… y’know.”
“i guess…”
shoko takes a puff and blows it out smoothly as you the two of you continue to walk in silence.
when you get to the beach, you notice an area already set up. people have small sun tents set up, the wood is already in place ready to be burned later, girls are laying on towels tanning, music is playing.
it’s a fun, lively environment and it’s refreshing in a sense.
you and shoko set your towels down along with your other belongings under one of the tents. she runs off somewhere and you decide to sit down and read.
you sit down on your knees then take the shirt you had on, off leaving yourself in your bikini.
you start applying sunscreen, you start with your legs, then arms and torso and chest, it gets harder when you start trying to apply it onto your back.
as if on cue, satoru approaches.
“need some help?” he asks with his signature smirk.
you turn your head to look at him.
fuck, you hate how hot he is.
he’s wearing swim trunks, low on his waist, his shirt fully unbuttoned showing off his abs and god does he have abs. his hair styles messy yet again, bright blue eyes staring right down at you.
you quickly turn your head away and clear your throat.
“i’d rather get a sunburn.” you say as you continue to struggle to fully spread it onto your back.
he scoffs then sits down behind you, “oh come on, can’t let a pretty thing like you get all burned up.” he snatches your sunscreen from off the ground and squirts some in his hand, but before he can actually touch you, you move.
you turn around so you’re facing him and glare, “i know you struggle handling rejection, but i said no.”
“okay, fine. suit yourself. have fun getting burnt alive.”
you were lying, you did not want to get a sunburn. you groan before responding, “fine…”
satoru smirks are you.
“great, lay down.”
“why do i need to lay down…”
“just lay down, it makes it easier.”
he’s so annoyingly persistent. you choose not to argue with him and lay on your stomach. moving your hair to the side and resting your head onto your arms.
he rubs the sunscreen around on his hands a bit before gently massaging it onto your back. he starts with your upper back, the part you were struggling the most to reach, and slowly yet surely makes his way lower.
before you could say anything, he unties your swimsuit in the back. your face turns red and you immediantly tense. if you sit up you’ll probably flash everyone.
“gojo what the fuck?!”
“calm down, i’m just making sure i spread it everywhere.” his voice carrying a humorous undertone.
“you do not need to be doing all this.”
“i accidentally put a lot in my hands, i have to rub it around a lot or your back will stay white.”
you groan loudly and keep your head down.
his hands working smoothly along your skin. it felt nice, you just didn’t like receiving it from him. the longer he touched the more bold he got, touched your butt a little but you quickly snapped at him.
after awhile, he finally ties your top back up. you quickly sit up onto your knees and shove him, it doesn’t do much because he stays sitting up.
“you did not need to be that handsy,” you say with a glare.
he holds his hands up in surrender and acts innocent.
“aw c’mon, i’m just trying to make sure you don’t get a sunburn!”
“yeah, sure you are, pervert.”
he gives you a cocky smile before laying down, taking up half of your towel.
you glare at him, “didn’t you bring your own shit? why are you over here messing with mine?”
his eyes are closed as he lays facing the sun, his arms behind his head supporting him.
“i like hanging out with you.”
he wasn’t lying. being around you was a breath of fresh air. he didn’t let it show but you kept him humbled, you grounded him. you’ve told him off to his face multipule times, you weren’t scared to tell him off when he needed to be.
he thinks back to a party from awhile ago where he was a drunk as can be and per usual decided to mess with you. slinging his arm around your shoulder and you quickly shoved it off the pushed him onto the couch.
he remembers the way you yelled at him woth no shame, calling him a sloppy drunk and that he needs to leave you alone for once and find someone else to fuck.
he liked you.
he really liked you.
but you were, you. you didn’t sleep around and get drunk all the time, you had actual standards.
you roll your eyes at his words. instead of fighting him, you lay down next to him.
your arms lightly brushing as you peacefully lay together.
the ocean waves create a soothing sound, you feel a light breeze from the wind. it’s perfect.
it’s so perfect that both you and gojo fall asleep for an hour.
when you wake up you’re basically in the same position, gojo however is snoring and sprawled out.
one of his legs draped over yours, an arm around your waist. you couldn’t tell if he genuinely moved around in his sleep a lot or if this was purposeful, but when you notice you shimmy out from under him and sit up.
thank god for the tent, you’d have a nasty uneven tan right now or worst you would’ve just burnt.
you stretch your arms out and yawn. the nap was very refreshing, maybe not the most ideal thing to do for a beach day but it’s whatever. plus the sun is starting to set meaning the bon fire was going to start soon.
gojo wakes up very soon after you and slowly sits up while yawning.
“how long were we out for?” he asks groggily.
you shrug as you look over at him. gojo lets out a loud groan as he stretches.
he must’ve ditched his button up while sleeping because it’s gone and his upper half is on full display. you could see him before when his shirt was unbuttoned but this still felt like a lot more.
he looked so good it was unbearable. the way he was sitting while leaning back on his arms with his head tilted back. his sharp jawline prominent, and something about his neck and the way you could see his adam’s apple bob slightly was driving you crazy.
he’s ripped. biceps are huge, abs of steel that are hypnotizing, you didn’t even want to get started on how low his bottoms were.
you felt like a cat in heat, what the fuck is wrong with you? this is just like earlier when you couldn’t stop thinking about him except now he’s here on display and it’s harder to resist.
“y/n?”
you were so lost in thought you didn’t realize you were shamelessly staring at his body.
whore.
you avert your gaze to look at his face, “hm?”
his infamous smirk slithering onto his face as he spoke, “see something you like?”
you glare and you feel your face heat up slightly, “no.” you quickly turn your head away to avoid looking at him.
he just laughs.
just then suguru approaches the two of you.
“hey, satoru do you mind running back to the house to grab something?"
he sighs dramatically and thinks for a moment, “what’s in it for me?"
“$20."
“deal!"
suguru smiles and offers a helping hand for him to stand up.
gojo stands then looks at you, “you’re coming with me."
you look up confused, “uh, no i’m not?”
“y/nnnnn-“ his voice his whiny, he is not going to leave you alone if you don’t go with him so you cut him off before he gets more annoying.
“oh my god, fine."
you stand up and brush some sand off of you. he smiles happily as you walk with him. the fraternity house is pretty far plus it’s getting dark outside so you take gojo’s car. you were in here last night too.
you guys don’t talk much on the way their, he has the windows rolled down and is playing music.
when you do get there, he turns the car off and you both head inside. the house isn’t fully clean but it’s also not a huge mess. it’s definitely the cleanest you’ve ever seen it.
also the emptiest.
you mindlessly follow him not knowing what else you’re supposed to do.
“alrighty, geto wanted me to grab more alcohol and cups, choso wants his stash..."
gojo’s voice basically fades out as you watch him. his back is turned towards you while doing so and you can’t help but stare. every small movement highlights different parts of him.
he turns around to look at you and has a small smirk while doing so.
“you okay?"
you nod slowly, “yeah I’m fine."
he tilts his head slightly and takes a step towards you, just inches away.
he’s so close, you smell his sweet musk like from the other night only this time you’re not drunk, it’s effect only seems more strong, it’s intoxicating.
“you sure?"
you nod again, keeping quiet.
his smile only grows as he stares at you, “nah, somethings off, because usually, you would’ve already shoved me away already.”
he grows a bit more bold, one hand going to your waist, “talk to me y/n, what’s wrong?” he says softly.
your hearts racing, your body feels hot, your full of need.
you need him.
without thinking, you shove your face to his and kiss him. he’s definitely taken aback at first but quickly adjusts, both hands gripping your waist. your arms wrap around his shoulders.
the kiss is anything but sweet, it’s messy, full of lust and need. was this a good idea?
‘stepping out of your comfort zone,’ remember.
gojo groans softly into your mouth when you shove your tongue in his mouth. his grip on you tightening, hands traveling, one moves lower and squeezes your ass, the other stays put.
he backs you up onto a wall and practically grinds into you, you can feel his bulge and how hard he is already.
he breaks the kiss so he can travel down to your neck, his kisses wet and desperate, he keeps himself pushed as close to possible you.
you let out a shaky moan at the feeling of his mouth on you, the hand on your ass moving to rub your cunt through your bikini.
he smirks as soon as he feels it. you’re embarrassingly wet, you’re soaked through your fucking bottoms.
“fuck baby... s’this all for me?” he says teasingly.
‘baby.' he’s just saying it to keep the mood set. don’t read into it.
you let out an embarrassing whimper in response.
you sound so stupid, he’s barely touching you and you’re a mess. get a fucking grip.
he doesn’t hesitate to pull the strings on the sides of your bottoms, they quickly fall to the ground and as soon as they do satoru is on his knees in front of you, “let me get a taste of you, please?"
your breathing is so heavy, any words you try to form get caught in your throat, all you can do is desperately nod. he licks a strip along your pussy, staring up at you as he does.
you quickly throw your head back wanting to avoid looking so pathetic in front of him. it’s hard to keep composed the way he works his mouth on you. he does an almost nodding movement with his head as he tongue fucks you, his nose brushing onto your clit. your knees feel weak and shaky, he puts one of your legs onto his shoulder, his other hand holding onto your hip/waist.
“taste so fucking good... can’t believe you were keeping this from me.” he says breathily against you.
he starts lightly sucking on your clit, one hand moving between your legs to fuck you onto his fingers. he easily slips two in and curls them up into you. you can’t fight back the moan that’s pulled out of you as he keeps the movement going.
“o-oh fuck gojo...!"
you grind down on him and you can practically feel the smile on his face, “that’s right, lemme hear you baby."
it feels so unbelievably good. words can't describe it, you know If he keeps going you’ll cum but you don’t want to yet.
you want more.
you quickly shove him and he falls back onto his ass, face full of confusion.
“what happened? did i do something wrong?"
you shake your head as you help him stand up, “where’s your bedroom?"
“it’s upstairs... why?"
you roll your eyes before responding, “i don’t want to fuck in the hallway of your house, take me to your bed like real man."
his smirks returns to his face at your words, he grabs your hips and pulls you to him before kissing you. this one isn’t as messy. it’s a bit slower. it feels more intimate in a way. he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you upstairs.
when he gets in his room, he drops you onto the bed. you undo the string of your bikini top and toss it to the side.
satoru stares at you like you’re the only thing that exists in the world. he mumbles under his breath, “you’re so fucking beautiful..."
he practically lunges at you to kiss you again, crawling on top of you. he deepens the kiss by shoving his tongue in your mouth and you moan at the feeling.
everything he does feel so incredibly good, you didn’t know if it was because of how horny and sensitive you were or if it was just the affect he had.
your hands travel between your bodies to untie his swim trunks. he sits up to shimmy them the rest of the way off and you watch as his dick springs free.
it slaps against his stomach, it looks painfully hard, pre-cum practically oozing out of it.
you’re drooling at the sight, you wanted nothing more, no, needed, nothing more then to have him inside of you fucking you dumb.
you sit up slightly so you can stroke him softly.
you use your thumbs to spread his pre-cum around, creating a lubricant making it easier for you to stroke him. he is not quiet. he’s letting out loud, shakily moaning as you do so.
he looks so out of it and the two of you had barely done anything. that needed to change. you sit up more and push him down so you can straddle his lap.
his hands immediately find placement on your hips and ass, squeezing the flesh in his hands. you hold his dick steady as you start to sink down, you both groan in unison at the feeling, foreheads put together.
he was huge, his cock was thick and heavy and you felt everything.
one of his hands softly stroked your back before holding the back of your neck to make you look at him. “wanna see you take all of me..” he says softly, blue eyes staring right into yours.
you squeeze your eyes shut as you slowly sink down more, he gives a small thrust to help you out, earning him a loud moan from you. once he’s bottomed out, you both sit still for a moment, you’re catching your breath and trying to adjust.
neither of you have moved yet but you feel so full, so good. you make the first move by rocking your hips forward slightly, breathily moaning as you do so.
“feel s’good toru...” you moan out.
he smiles at the nickname before thrusting up, “yeah baby? like the way my dick feels?"
your hands grip onto his shoulders, nails digging into him as he does so. all you can do is nod. the pace picks up as he’s fucks up into you while rock your hips.
he’s desperate gripping your hips to help bring you down onto him as you do so, “fuck, fuck, fuckk, your pussy feels so good."
your legs are tired as you try your hardest to keep the pace going, it’s hard though with how he thrusts messily up into you.
every thrust creates a squelch sound, your so wet you’re dripping all over him, everything is a mess. you’re both desperate and pathetically moaning into one another.
foreheads pressed together, hands grabbing the on each other. gojo keeps you pulled as close as possible, wanting to feel every inch of you, inside and out.
his thrusts get messier and more frantic, he’s doing practically everything, your legs giving out.
you guys flip over and he folds your legs into a mean mating press before shoving himself back in, you let out a loud moan as he does.
he fucks into you hard, practically grinding into you more then anything, hitting just the right spot.
he’s loud, all he does is pathetically moan and groan as he fucks you. his hands desperately gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place.
your arms were wrapped around his neck, his face buried into your neck.
“i don’t kn-know how much longer i-i can.. nhghh... go with you squeezing me like that sweets..."
he thrusts are desperate and messy, you can tell he’s close, especially with the way he’s trembling, but so were you, “m’close! p-please...!” you whimpered out. you couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence. you were so fucked out.
“wanna feel that pretty pussy cum all over my cock, c’mon baby..."
that’s all you needed to push you over the edge, your legs shaking, back arching, absolute euphoria washing over you. you moaned his name out loudly and squeezed down on him pulling his orgasm out.
he let out a shaky moan and whimpered out your name.
neither of you cared that he was fucking his cum into you, all you cared about was how good it all felt, your fluids mixing and dripping onto his bed.
he slowed down as you both came down from your highs. his breath hot against your neck.
you both laid there for a moment relishing in the moment. both of you were sweaty and tired.
after awhile, gojo softly kissed your neck and cheek before pulled out, leaving you feeling empty. he laid down on the other side of you and you both stared at the ceiling.
you just fucked satoru gojo.
( a/n: based off the poll results! )
taglist: @halfbloodwriter , @cl3xr , @kiyoominiscient , @tairyuu
[The small food stand on the busy streets stands out. Itadori and Nobara drag Gojo by her arms so casually, with Megumi walking behind them]
Itadori : You gotta trust us, this place is amazing!
Nobara : We may say that a lot, but this one is actually true!
[Gojo notices the food stand from a few feet away. But then, the thing that gets her attention, is the guy behind the counter, the guy that's smiling seeing them coming to his stand]
Fem!Gojo : Hmm~ so this is both of your favourite place?
[They all arrive at the stand. Y/N behind the counter, casually preparing their usual order. Itadori and Nobara dramatically lean their hands on the counter]
Itadori : Guess who's back?~✨
Nobara : it's us~✨
M!Reader : Chuckles, I've already prepared the usual order for the three of you!
[Y/N shows three mochi in plastic wrap at them and without instant, Itadori and Nobara grab them right out of his hand. As the two of them eat theirs, Megumi calmly walks up to Y/N and grabs his mochi out of his hand]
M!Reader : OH–! You must be Gojo! It's a pleasure to finally meet you!
[Gojo stays silent for a couple of seconds, already looking at him. She then leans her entire arm on the counter with a smirk spread across her face, surprising him]
Fem!Gojo : ...My, my. You guys didn't mention the owner is this cute~
[Itadori and Nobara choke on their mochi while Megumi's eyes widens]
M!Reader blushing : Uh–I-Uhh... T-Thank you! That's very kind of you–
Fem!Gojo : Oh you are very welcome~—
Megumi : No.
[Megumi grabs Gojo by the sleeve and drags her back away from his stand, Itadori and Nobara follow them but they are still coughing]
Fem!Gojo : Meguumiiii–! I was just getting to know him!
Megumi : No.
A night later, in the hallway
[Megumi on the way to get back to his dorm with a small snack in hand, half asleep]
Megumi : ...Sighs, should've gotten two–Huh?
[Megumi makes a turn and stops because he sees a door opening from Gojo's room, someone steps out. It's Y/N, his clothes are messy, hair out of place, and neck cover in bites while he still has his eyes close]
[Y/N shuts the door behind him. He walks a few steps until both of them come in contact, making both of them stand in silent]
[Y/N and Megumi lock eyes]
...
...
...
...
M!Reader blushing : ...Oh
Megumi : ...Oh
[Y/N scratch the back of his neck and let out a nervous chuckle]
M!Reader blushing : I–I should really go ^v^💧
Megumi stares at Y/N.
Then at the door.
Then back at him.
Megumi : ...You really need to change your taste in women...
M!Reader blushing : ...After that, I don't think I can...
Megumi : I seriously cannot believe I'm asking this–Did you two... Already–
M!Reader blushing : OH–! No, no!
Megumi : Sighs, At least there's still some dignity left inside of her...
M!Reader blushing : After the whole... Situation, that morning. An hour later, she came back and we talked! We ended up hanging out and grabbing something to eat—just a hangout! Nothing sexual!
Megumi : Then mind explaining this whole... Situation?
[Megumi uses a hand to gesture at Y/N's... Basically everything–]
M!Reader blushing : ...Okay maybe a bit of makeout session—
A/N: Hot diggity damn, makeup sex time. Gojo’s had me cackling!! As always, requests are open!! I don’t bite. . unless you ask nicely 😈
Gojo Satoru
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you ignored it, much like the other ten times it rang. You instead headed for the concession stand at the theater. Your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, had pissed you off beyond all means. He'd forgotten all about your date. The specific date you had been planning for a month. You intended to celebrate at the fanciest restaurant and made reservations two weeks ago. All for him! Because they had world-class desserts.
You got there before him; they took you to your private table. Where you waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, forty-five minutes later, you called him.
“Hey, babe!” He said over the sound background chatter. “What's up? I'm out at the new cafe with Suguru and Nanami!”
“Oh?” Gritting your teeth, you tapped your nails against the table. “Are you having fun?” The tone of your voice was bitter and cold.
Your boyfriend hesitated, “Uhm yeah, the desserts are delicious.” Rage boiled in your gut.
“You know who else has delicious desserts?” He hummed, but you didn't give him a chance to answer. “The restaurant I'm at! You know the one I made reservations for three weeks ago?!”
You could practically see the fear in your boyfriend's voice. “Oh fuck, shit! That was tonight?! Stay there; I'll be there in a couple of minutes.” Your eyes stung with unshed tears.
“No, you can come, but I won't be here.”
You had done just as you said, quickly paying for your tab before hurrying out of the restaurant before Gojo could teleport there. You crossed the street, heading towards the movie theater. There was not a chance in hell he would find you in here. You were heartbroken; all the effort you put into your date was wasted.
You sat in the very back of the empty theater. You were feeling some ease that there was no one here. Then again, they were playing older movies anyone could stream nowadays. You seriously doubted anyone would be joining you to watch Titanic. You could zone out, cool down, and try to figure out what to say to Satoru the next time you see him.
As the opening credits started to play, you heard a door slam open. Peeking down, you choked on popcorn as you noticed your boyfriend scanning the theater. Bright blue eyes seemed to glow as he held his blindfold in one hand. Fuck! Fuck! Fuckin stupid Six-Eyes! Those blue eyes instantly found you, and you could see the relief wash over Satoru. You hid your face behind the bucket of popcorn, internally groaning as you heard him bounding up the stairs.
“Y/N! Why didn’t you wait for me?!” You ignored him, slowly lowering the bucket to stare at the movie screen. “Hey, hello?”
“Shh!” You scolded before stuffing more popcorn in your mouth. Avoiding his questions altogether.
His shoes stepped over the soda-sticky floor, blocking your view of the screen. “We need to talk.” His hand gently reached out, index finger lifting your chin to look up at him.
“Fuck you.” You said, getting up and moving further down the row, plopping down in a seat.
“Y/N baby!” The groan he let out had you rolling your eyes. “Please, I’m sorry I forgot!” He bounded after you, only for you to get up stepping into the lower row. Your action had Gojo stopping in his tracks, the two of you staring at each other. “Are you playing keep away?”
A rich laugh escaped him, one that was full of humor and delight. It had him hunching over as he cackled. You hated it, but you found your smile tugging at your lips. Here he was, groaning and whining like a child, and you weren’t any better. You were running away from him, pouting like a toddler that didn’t get their way.
Gojo’s laughter the tears forming in his eyes, had your heart feeling lighter. God, he was such a cutie. A cutie who forgot all about your date. A date you’d spent time, money, and energy on! All for his benefit. Holy shit, the Gojo charm almost had you forgiving him!
“No!” You snapped, stomping down your foot like the mature adult you were. “Shut up! I’m mad at you.”
Turning to head further down the row, you gasped as Satoru jumped over the row, landing right in front of you. “Look, just give me a chan—“ he started before you threw a handful of popcorn in his face, “okay, and here I thought I was the immature one.” His tongue darted out, licking at the salty butter off the corner of his mouth.
“You are! Toru, seriously! I put all that time and effort into planning that for you!!” You threw another piece directly at his forehead. He allowed the abuse with the popcorn to continue. He was staring at you as you tossed another piece at him.
“Are you done now?” He asked as you hugged the bucket to your chest. “Awesome, cool.” He reached out, ruffling your hair. “I can’t make up for missing the date that I seriously appreciate you planning and paying for. I can, however, make the most out of the night I fucked up.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” You flung one more piece of popcorn at him. It hit infinity before he snatched the bucket from you, placing it in one of the empty chairs.
“You’ll see.” A childlike smile was plastered across his face as he ran down the stairs, grabbing two bags before running back up to you. “We might not be at the fanciest of restaurants.” Your heart soared as he held out a take-out bag from the restaurant where you had made reservations. “But dinner and the Titanic?” He learned by pressing his forehead against yours. “Sounds like a great fuckin’ date to me.”
Taking the bag out of Satoru’s hands, you sighed, your fingers grazing over his longer ones. He didn’t have to pick up dinner from the restaurant you planned to take him to. Satoru didn't even need to try to find you when he knew you were angry, yet here he was—trying to prove to you just how sorry he was. Those were some of the things you loved about him. Cocky, annoying, and charming in more ways than one.
With your free hand, you grab onto Satoru’s wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Has anyone told you that you're a charming asshole?” Seeing your smile, Satoru let out a sigh of relief before intertwining your fingers.
“Nope, that one's new.”
“Don't push it.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He grabbed the popcorn bucket before following you back to the top row. The two of you cracked open the takeout containers, eating the delicious food while whispering as you watched the movie.
Halfway through the food and movie, you hummed, watching the infamous steamy car scene before you turned to Satoru, who yawned. “Hey, Toru.” he tilted his head, turning to look down at you. “Do you think we could recreate this scene?” He perked up. “In a veil?”
“Oh, holy fuck!” You yelled, hand gripping Satoru’s shoulder as you bounced up and down on his cock. “Fuck, oooh fuck!”
Your boyfriend's head was tilted back against the chair. Whines and whimpers escaped his pressed lips as you slammed yourself up and down as hard and as fast as you could. The tiny viel Satoru had put around the two of you was keeping you concealed, and the heat within the small space.
The thick, musky, almost sweet smell of sex was getting to you, making you hotter and hornier. Knowing the two of you were fucking in such an open space, without people knowing, God, it was so hot. You were going to fuck Toru’s brains out as both punishment for forgetting your date and for making it one you would never forget.
“Y/N, please,” Satoru cried out, “please fuck.”
“Please, what, Toru~?” You cooed, rocking yourself back and forth on his dick, making his jaw drop into a wide ‘O’. “Tell me what you want baby~”
“I wanna cum; I wanna cum in your pussy.” He begged, his hands groping and massaging your breasts. “Please, baby~?”
You giggle just before you can respond to the people entering the theater. The cleaning ushers, no doubt. Your body seized up, clamping down on Satoru’s cock, causing him to growl. Your hand flew up, covering his mouth as you listened to the staff talking. While they couldn’t see you, the thought of strangers walking around while you had sex, god, it made you wetter than wet.
Keeping your hand over Satoru’s mouth, you fucked yourself down on him like he was your own personal dildo. His whines grew louder under your hand as he gripped your ass, helping you fuck yourself on him. He was so close, so, so close.
All he needed was a little push. That push is your twitching cunt. You rocked faster, your free hand resting over his chest, as you felt your orgasm coming in fast before your back arched. A silent scream etched your face as you came hard. Satoru gaped into your eyes, eyebrows furrowed together, as one hand gripped your ass and the other smacked into the veil.
Or rather, through it.
A bloody murder scream came from one of the workers as a disembodied hand popped out of thin air. The co-workers followed her out, screaming and yelling. At the same time, Satoru pulled his hand back inside the veil. The two of you were coming down, your bare chest resting against his. You just stared at each other for a long moment before you both started to giggle loudly.
“G-Guess the handprint scene doesn't work well in the veil.” Satoru chuckled, cupping strands of hair behind your ear.
“Guess not.” Was your confirmation, as you slowly pulled yourself off of Satoru’s lap with a wince. “Such a shame. I was hoping for better results.”
“Hmm, it might not work with the veil, but I have an idea where we could try because I’m not done yet. I still haven't apologized to you in the way you deserve.”
“Oh?” You both picked up your trash and readjusted your clothes as Satoru lowered the veil.
“Yeah, I wanna apologize to you in the shower, in our bed, fuck even the balcony.” The two of you ran for the exit door. “It's a good thing that the restaurant you picked out is known for the aphrodisiac desserts.”
“Wait, what?”
“Oooh, sweetie,” Satoru sneered down at you with a mischievous chuckle.“Why do you think I kept bugging you to take me to that restaurant?”
It was going to be a very long night for you.
Nanami Kento:
“Damn!” The soft curse woke you up; you rubbed your eyes, watching your fiancè searching for something on the dresser.
“Kento?” Your groggy voice drew his attention towards you. “Welcome home.”
Your beloved fiance had been gone for two weeks. He'd just gotten home last night; Gojo had picked him up for you. You had been working your ass off for the previous two weeks. You picked up the work of another co-worker who had just walked out without notice. Gojo knew you had been running around for two weeks filing paperwork, assigning missions, and helping Shoko. He was instant on you getting some sleep. He assured you he'd get Nanami, and you were thankful for him doing that for you.
This way, you could spend more time with Kento.
“Where are my cufflinks?” Nanako snapped, his eyes full of annoyance.
His tone had you blinking in stunned silence. “Right there,” you motioned to the box he always kept them in, “was your mission rough?” That would explain his cold, sharp tone.
“Yes, Y/N, it was rough.” He opened the box, grabbing the links before slamming it shut. “You wouldn't understand.”
His words sliced through you like a hot knife. “Excuse me?” You three the sheets off your body, standing to face him. “What the hell do you mean I wouldn't understand?!” Nanami Kento rolled his eyes at your anger.
“I'm simply stating the truth. You don't understand what it's like to go out on missions, fight, and do more than paperwork.” His hand ran through his still-damp hair. “So I'm just trying to understand why you couldn't pick me up last night. Gojo told me that you were burning the candle at both ends. I fail to see how that is even possible.”
The bedroom was nearly silent. The only sound that you could hear over the boiling rage was your heartbeat in your ears. “Get out of my way.” Was all you could manage as you pushed past him, digging through your drawers for clothes.
“Honestly, why are you acting like a child?”
“Why are you acting like a dick?!” Nanako was seconds from snapping back, but his words evaded him when he saw you crying. “You have no idea how hard my job is!” Your hands wiped uselessly at the stream of tears. “My worthless coworker quit. So I'm stuck doing my job and hers!”
“Y/N.”
“Yes! I do loads of paperwork, and I sit in front of a computer most of my day.” You pulled on your pants, stepping out of Nanami’s grasp. “It may not be physically demanding, but in a mental aspect, I'm drained. Paperwork, mission assignments, and death notices!” Honey-brown eyes went wide. “Yeah, that's why my coworker quit! She couldn't handle it!”
“Love, I—”
You held a hand up, silencing Nanami. “So last night, Gojo picked you up instead of me because I was in Kyoto. Telling a mother and father that their eighteen-year-old son died!” Flashes of Yu Haibara flashed through Nanami’s eyes.
He could barely handle his death, imagining what his parents went through. When someone in your position told them that their child was gone, he couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. Emotionally and mentally draining. He had no idea how much your job consisted of because you hardly brought it up. More concerned with him.
“Y/N, I had no clue—”
“No, fuck you.” You turned on your heel, racing for the door. “Welcome home! Kindly go fuck yourself.” With those words, you left, leaving Nanami alone in your apartment.
It took you a couple of hours to cry out your feelings. The exhaustion and stress of the last two weeks hit you all at once with Nanami’s cruel words. He had no clue what you went through without him here. It didn't matter if he was just as exhausted as you were. Both of you had been ground to bones in two weeks apart.
Despite all of those factors, he still had no right to talk to you the way he had.
But as much as you wanted to stay away from him, your apartment, reality, you had to go back. Your engagement ring glimmered as a stupid reminder, even if he had crossed a line today. Nanami was still the love of your life.
The second you unlocked the door to the apartment, you sighed. “I'm home.” Your voice was barely audible.
Just as you finished removing your shoes, you looked up to see Nanami. His cheeks and neck flushed as he looked at the floor. Your fiance looked like a dog that had been scolded, as he should. Despite wanting to throw yourself into his arms and cry out your frustration, to hit, to beg him to hold you tight, you just walked past him.
Entering your living room, your heart lurched into your throat as you gasped. A large bouquet of roses is on your coffee table, surrounded by all your favorite snacks. The words ‘I’m Sorry’ were spelled in rose petals on the floor.
You had thought you were incapable of crying anymore, yet fresh tears spilled over your tear-stained cheeks. Nanami’s body looked over you, his hands hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. To Nanami’s relief, you didn't attempt to pull away.
“Y/N, I'm so, so, sorry.” you leaned back into his chest, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes. “The way that I acted this morning was utterly disgusting. I took my frustration and anger out on you, the last person I should ever hurt.” His fingers began kneading and rubbing at your sore muscles. “Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me? For being an irrational ass?”
”A major ass.” Nanami’s whole body relaxed at your soft voice.
He turned you around to face him, his strong arms holding you flush against him. “Yes, a total and complete asshole.” Once your arms wrapped around his waist, he fully relaxed. ”Are you okay?” His smooth voice whispered, his chin resting on top of your head. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“No, I just want you.”
Pulling away to look up at him, he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “Yeah? Do you need me to help you fall asleep?” His hand trailed down, gripping your hips. Your nod was the only confirmation he needed.
Sprawled out over the bed, candles burning, soft music playing, you gasped and whimpered. Nanami’s face was buried between your thighs, kissing and sucking at your drenched folds. Those honey-brown eyes that had been filled with concern and worry earlier were now drowning in lust. His needs could wait until later. This was all about you, making you feel better.
”Fuck Ken!” Your fingers grazed over his undercut before gripping the longer strands of hair. “Don’t stop, please, fuck.” Obeying your wishes, Kento’s tongue moved faster. Sucking and slurping at you. Quenching the thirst he had been craving for the last two weeks. “Yes, yes, yes!’
Feeling your cunt clenching, Kento shoved two fingers inside of you, his tongue focusing on your clit. You gasped, eyes wide as his two fingers rubbed expertly against your g-spot. You swore he nearly sent you to heaven as white spots flooded your vision. You screamed before squirting all over his face. The sensation, the taste of your cum had him rutting his hips into the mattress. His tongue did not once let up. It was your orgasm, the content sigh that left your lips that had him stiffening. His cock spurting cum all within the confines of his boxers and sweats.
Your dazy eyes trailed down over your nude body, focusing on Kento’s rutting form. Humping the mattress until the last waves of both of your orgasms came to an end. Kento hummed, his voice vibrated against your still trembling pussy. When he found the strength to pull away, You smiled as he trailed soft kisses up your thighs, hips, stomach, and chest before finally landing on your lips.
You kiss back softly, his arms pulling you close as he pulls you to lay on his chest. His hands gently caressed up and down your back, a slight frown gracing his face. “Ken,” you kiss his chest, “it’s fine. Please don’t worry about it anymore.” His eyes glanced at you before back at the ceiling, his fingers never once pausing.
“I know, I just, I didn’t know your job consisted of so much.” His eyes shut tight, eyebrows scrunching together. “You do all those reports, help Shoko, inform families of deaths, and on top of that, you take care of our home.”
His words from over, repeated over and over, on a loop. Just a desk job? You didn’t know what he went through. When it was the other way around, he didn’t know what you went through daily. His words were cold and cruel. All because he had taken his exhaustion and frustration out on you. The most important person in his life.
Your slender finger gently rubbed up and down the bridge of his nose. Grounding him, pulling him out of the deep void of his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he was met with your glimmering Y/E/C eyes. Your sleepy gaze and gentle smile had his heart clenching in his chest.
”Ken, it’s okay. You didn’t know, much like I don’t know about all of the struggles you go through.” Your gentle touch had him relaxing against the mattress. “Let’s just agree not to downplay each other again. We both work hard, every day, to make this life for us to share.” Slowly pulling your hand away, you leaned up, kissing his lips. “As long as we come home to each other at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”
Kento smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Y/N.” Your warm, tired smile had him melting. “I’m home.”
“Welcome home, Kento.” You whispered against his lips.
Ryomen Sukuna:
You loved your boyfriend, really you did. But for the last week, he’d been almost insufferable. His younger brother Yuuji was on Spring break. His best friend Megumi had invited him to join him and his family for the week on the beach. Sukuna all but packed Yuuji’s bags for him, ushering the twerp out of the apartment before locking it up, heading to spend the week with you.
It was like his own personal spring break away from his brothers.
Which also was the start of a week from hell for you. At first, the weekend was lovely. The two of you stayed in, had crazy, animalistic sex, and just enjoyed each other. But when Monday rolled around and you left for work, things took a turn.
You came home to find Sukuna’s clothes all around the room, the dishes from breakfast still in the sink, and he was snoring on the couch. At first, you were upset. The poor guy was raising his young brother while their other brother, Choso, was on vacation with some college friends. Sukuna truly did bust his ass for his brothers, so it made sense that he was beat.
So you let it go, picked up, washed the dishes, and made the two of you dinner. It had been somewhat annoying, but it was alright. You wanted to make sure Sukuna got as much rest as he could before he went back to work the following week.
Tuesday afternoon, you came home to a similar situation: clothes everywhere, dishes in the sink, only Sukuna had just returned from the gym. When he got home, he started helping you before taking a shower. Maybe he had just been so interested in getting to the gym that he forgot to do the dishes. That sort of thing happened when you were in a rush, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.
But when you got home today, it was the same damn story. You looked around the apartment, groaning out loud as Sukuna scrolled briefly through Netflix. There were empty soda cans, trash, and, of course, his gym clothes all over the floor. This was not the man you knew.
“Ryomen Sukuna!” Your sharp tone had him turning in your direction. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find something to watch on Netflix?” He raised an eyebrow as if it wasn’t obvious what he was doing.
“I can see that!” You scrubbed a hand over your face. “I meant all the trash, clothes, and everything!”
“Oooh,” he looked around the apartment, “I’ll get to it.”
You tugged at your hair with an exasperated groan. “That’s not the point! Why are you trashing the place to begin with?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“So?!” Your tone had his full attention now. “When I have a day off, I don’t trash your place.”
Sukuna pinched at the bridge of his nose with a grumble. “Are we seriously going to fight about this?” He narrowed his gaze at you, those eyes you normally adored full of irritation. Irritation that had no right to even be there!
“Yes, we are! How is it fair that I make us breakfast, go to work, come home, and make dinner? On top of that, you expect me to come home and pick up your trash and clothes?”
“Well, I mean, yeah.” The answer that came out of his mouth far faster than you thought. “I mean, that’s your job. It’s what you’re good at.” Sukuna rolled a shoulder as he twirled the remote between his fingers. “I exercise spirits, and you—“ He finally turned, seeing the rage and darkening of your cheeks. “You—are good at caring for the house and cooking.”
Oh, he’d fucked up.
You didn’t say a word. Instead, you scoffed and stormed to the bedroom, slamming the door. Sukuna winced and turned his head to face your room. Perhaps that wasn’t the best choice of words. He had meant to say, well, that you were a good caretaker, wifey material. Now that he was looking around the room, truly taking in the state of your usually well-kept home, your words were beginning to settle in his gut.
Had he been that lazy and messy? The take-out containers, his gym clothes, and empty cans confirmed that, yes, he had. Ever since his brothers left, he didn’t have to move constantly. He didn’t have to take Yuuji to school, helping Choso with homework. He had time to himself, where he didn’t have to ensure everything was in tip-top shapes. This was a chance for him to mellow out and relax.
He’d wanted to spend this mellow time with you, his girlfriend, the most amazing woman he’d ever met. But instead, he’d gotten lazy, stuck in a rut of not having to do such a damn thing. This wasn’t how he normally acted, so why now? Fuck, and to tell you you were nothing but a maid, that it was your job. Yeah, no, he totally fucked up.
You were his girlfriend, partner, and the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Most of his other partners hadn’t been able to handle the fact he was a single dad. He had raised his two brothers, just the three against the world. But you, god, you were an angel. You helped him out, making dinners and teaching him the best ways to cook and stir certain foods, which grocery stores had the best sales. You had made him a better man, a better brother.
And he’d gone and turned himself into a shitty boyfriend, trashing your apartment, making misogynistic comments, hurting you. He had to fix this. Or he might very well end up losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Without a second thought, he got up, executing his plan.
You needed an hour and a half to yourself before you had completely calmed down. You glanced at your reflection, whipping at your tear-stained cheeks before entering the living room. All you needed to do was grab something to eat and go back to bed. When you walked out into the messy living room, you stopped.
The trashed room scattered with clothes was completely picked up, and the coasters and books were neatly put back into place. Sukuna was nowhere to be found. So you headed into the kitchen, which was also spotless. No crumbs were on the counters, and the dishes had been cleaned and put away. There was still no sign of Sukuna.
Part of you was still angry and didn’t want to see him. The other part of you wanted to thank him and hear what he had to say. Just as you were pulling your phone out to call him, your door opened. Sukuna stepped in with a bag of takeout. He took his shoes off, placing them where they were supposed to go before he locked the door.
“Suku?” He jumped, startled by your voice. But he slowly turned to you, giving you a remorseful smile.
“Hey,” he put the takeout on the counter, “Y/N, I—“ his cheeks flushed as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know I’m not the best with apologies, and I suck at fucking using my words.” With a heavy sigh, he grabbed your hand. “But what I said earlier was fucked up, and I’m sorry. I don’t see you as some maid, I just.” You couldn’t help but smile as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t want you ever to feel like I don’t appreciate everything you do. You’ve made me a better man, and I unfortunately haven’t been like that this week.”
You hummed, nodding in agreement as you interlaced your fingers with his. “Yeah, you’ve been a manchild. Yuuji would have been more mature than you.” He cringed, dropping his head down. “Then again, you did clean up your mess and pick me some dinner.” Your thumb brushed over his knuckles. “So maybe you haven’t been as bad as you think.” Sukuna was leaning in to kiss you, but you squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until it was almost painful. “But if you ever tell me it’s my job to take care of you or the chores again, I’ll put you in my trunk and help people look for you.”
Your boyfriend winced before nodding in understanding. “Right, yes, understood.” The second your hand softened, he pulled you towards the bedroom. “Come on.” You blushed, watching his back. His neck was a soft, rosy color.
“What are we doing?”
“You’re not doing anything.” He said, pushing you back against the bed. “I’m going to show you how much I appreciate you.”
Oh, and Sukuna did just that. He licked and sucked on your clit until you came. His fingers slammed in and out of you, fucking you until you squirted all over his hand. His smirk was sinister and hungry each time you came. Only when you were fucked out of your mind did he decide to fuck you with his cock.
“Please~ please, Suku~” You panted as he rubbed his cock head up and down your entrance. “Please.”
“Why are you begging?” He grunted as he slid his entire length into you. “You want my cock that bad.” He smirked at your tiny whimpers, his cock stretching you in the most delicious way.
“Yes, yes, I want it.” You grabbed his hand, and he went to hold it, only to watch as you placed it over your throat. “Give it to me.” You felt his cock throb inside of you.
He squeezed without having to be told twice. “Such a dirty slut I have.” He squeezed harder as he pulled out. “Here I’m trying to be romantic.” He slammed into you, the bed creaking under the force. “And my slutty little Y/N wants me to fuck her pussy like I normally do.” You whimpered, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that’s the best way to show you how much you mean to me, right? Fuckin’ that tight cunt until you can’t walk. Making sure you’re ruined, only I can satisfy you and your needs.” He grabbed your thighs, pressing them to your chest, forcing you into a mating press.
“K-Kuna!” You cried out as he released your throat, his hands fisting the sheets.
“That’s right, scream my fuckin’ name.” He groaned, pressing a searing kiss against your swollen lips. “Scream it, let everyone know how much your boyfriend appreciates you, how good he fucks you.”
His words, the deep thrusts, and your already sensitive pussy clenched. “I-I’m so close.” You cried out, eyes locked on Sukuna’s.
His hips sped up, cock throbbing hard as he growled. “Go on then, cum for me again.” You screamed as he slammed harder and harder into you, sending you over the edge. Your screams were muffled by Sukuna’s growls as he kissed you desperately, fucking you through your orgasm right into his own.
He stilled, lips pressing harder against you as his hit cum filled you. Your soft whines of pleasure had Sukuna’s hips moving slowly until he was sure your pussy was done milking him. Pulling back, Sukuna panted, smirking at the blissed-out look in your eyes—a look he always wanted to see.
“Love you, Suku.” You breathed out, leaning up and kissing him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. But his large hand cupped your face.
“And I love you and everything you do for me.” Without another word, his lips were on yours, his hips slowly rutting against yours. He intended to make you know just how much you meant to him. Even if that meant you’d have to call out of work tomorrow.
𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - no mentions of y/n, male reader,bottom!male reader, blood, suggestive themes,eventual smut, denial of love, subtle cussing, lastly Gojo.
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - > It all started as a joke. He thought vampires were just a dark fantasy—until sharp fangs, crimson hunger, and immortal desire proved otherwise.
His joke about dating vampires was meant to push love away… not lure a predator closer.
[M/n] decides there’s absolutely no way he’s going to Blackwood Library at midnight just because a dangerously attractive stranger with pale skin, white hair, gorgeously attractive blue eyes and a superiority complex told him to. Curiosity may be killing him, but at least it won’t kill him in a haunted library.
So he ignores the note, stays in his dorm, and spends the entire night pretending he’s not thinking about it.
Pretending he doesn’t keep glancing at the clock. Pretending he isn’t wondering what Gojo Satoru is doing while he’s deliberately not there.
By morning, [M/n] is fully prepared to laugh the whole thing off as an overdramatic encounter and move on with his life.
That plan lasts exactly until he walks into the campus café.
Because sitting in his usual seat by the window like he’s been there forever is Gojo fucking satoru.
Black coffee in hand. Long legs stretched out. Looking far too pleased with himself.
[M/n] stops dead.
Gojo glances up, catches his expression immediately, and smiles like this is the funniest thing he’s seen all week.
“Well,” he says smoothly, taking a slow sip of coffee, “good morning to you too.”
[M/n] stares. “You’re in my seat.”
Gojo hums, completely unbothered. “You’re the one who stood me up.”
His entire table goes silent.
Every. Single. Second.
[M/n] nearly chokes. “I did not stand you up.”
“Mm,” Gojo says, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Blackwood Library. Midnight. Ring any bells to you?”
“I was not going.”
“Yes,” Gojo replies, eyes glittering with amusement, “I noticed.” Then he leans forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to send something sharp and strange down [M/n]’s spine. “A little disappointing, honestly. I was beginning to think your standards were higher.”
“well? What makes you think I'll go there. In fact I don't even know you. Stranger danger isn't?” [M/n] spoke in a obvious reasons.
I mean let's be serious [M/n] could die there if he decided to go! He doesn't even know Gojo Satoru even if his the typical mysterious hot guy that doesn't make it better.
Gojo stared at [M/n] with those alluring blue eyes. Silently, as if Gojo look away [M/n] would fly away from him.
[M/n] stared back , confused. He blinked as he shrugged.
because genuinely, what the hell was wrong with this man?
“You are actually insane.”
Gojo Satoru, unfortunately, looked completely unbothered sitting in [M/n]’s usual café spot like he paid tuition here.
One long leg crossed over the other. Black coffee in hand. Looking way too comfortable for someone who was, quite literally, a menace before first period.
“And yet,” Gojo said, glancing up like this was the best part of his day, “you’re still talking to me.”
[M/n] dropped his bag onto the chair across from him with a sharp glare.
“I’m talking to you because you’re in my seat.”
Gojo looked around slowly, dramatically, before blinking back at him.
“Oh,” he said. “So this is territorial.”
“It is eight in the morning.”
“Mm. Defensive too.”
[M/n] narrowed his eyes.
God, he was annoying.
Not normal annoying either.
Specifically engineered to be insufferable.
“I didn't need to go, in fact it won't do me any good.” [M/n] said flatly, because clearly that needed to be established immediately.
Gojo took a slow sip of coffee.
“Yes,” he replied. “I noticed.”
The audacity.
“The fact that you actually waited—”
“Rude,” Gojo cut in, looking almost offended. “I had faith.”
“No, you had too much free time.”
A pause.
Then, somehow—
Gojo laughed.
Not a fake laugh. Not a smug one.
An actual laugh, soft and low and stupidly nice enough to annoy [M/n] even more.
“See?” Gojo said. “This is why I like you.”
[M/n] blinked.
“Excuse me?”
Gojo rested his chin against his hand like he had all the time in the world.
“You’re funny.”
“I’m rejecting that statement.”
“Can’t. Already decided.”
[M/n] stared at him for a long second before deadpanning:
“You don’t even know me.”
Gojo’s smile turned sharp around the edges. Playful. Like he knew something [M/n] didn’t.
“I know,” he said lightly, “you reject people by saying you only date vampires.”
…....
Okay.
That was actually humiliating. But it worked many times What makes this different?
[M/n] crossed his arms immediately.
“For your information, it works.”
“I’m sure it does.”
“It does.”
“Mm.”
“Why do you sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re judging me.”
Gojo tilted his head.
“I’m not judging,” he said, far too amused. “I’m fascinated.”
[M/n] hated. Hated. The way that word landed.
Mostly because Gojo said it so casually,attractivedly. It annoys the hell out of [M/n].
Like [M/n] was something worth studying.
Which was ridiculous. Obviously.
“You’re weird,” [M/n] muttered.
“Maybe,” Gojo said easily.
Then he leaned forward slightly towards [M/n] from where he was standing. just enough to be annoying, invasive, and impossible to ignore.
“But you were thinking about it.”
[M/n] froze.
“…Of what?”
“Blackwood Library,” Gojo said, smile widening. “You didn’t go… but you thought about it.”
Silence.
The worst part?
The absolute worst, most offensive part?
He had.
And judging by the look on Gojo’s face,
He knew.
“Oh my God,” [M/n] said flatly. “I hate you.”
“No,” Gojo replied smoothly, standing from the chair like this conversation hadn’t just taken ten years off [M/n]’s life. “You’re intrigued.”
“I’m concerned.”
“Close enough.”
Before [M/n] could even process that response, Gojo pulled a folded note from his pocket and placed it beside the coffee [M/n] hadn’t even gotten to drink yet.
[M/n] looked down at it like it personally insulted him.
“Absolutely not.”
“You haven’t read it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Coward.”
[M/n] immediately looked up.
“…You are so annoying.”
Gojo grinned bright, unfair, dangerous.
“And yet?”
[M/n] said nothing.
Because unfortunately… there was no comeback for that.
“Tonight,” Gojo said, already heading for the door like he hadn’t just ruined [M/n]’s entire morning, “ten o’clock.”
“You cannot keep doing this weird cryptic nonsense!”
From the very first day that you enrolled in Jujutsu High, you weren’t quite sure where life would lead you exactly but it certainly wasn’t to where you were now.
Everyday, after all, was an endless pursuit of an achieving both academic and combative excellence. Everyday, you pushed your body and mind above and beyond, seeking out the strength you didn’t know you had. You always assumed that by the end of it all, you would end up as maybe a grade two or even one with your efforts, but to your surprise, you got the recommendation to graduate as a special grade at just eighteen.
Just like him.
However, with every step forward, a creeping exhaustion settled in, dragging you down a path you couldn’t quite handle the journey of. Through the endless training that forced you to keep up with your prestige and the missions that the higher ups threw at you—it didn’t take too long to wear you out—leaving you weary, tired and almost even jaded as a result. Your mental state was one slight push away from the verge of a total collapse.
It was infuriating in some ways because you couldn’t help but compare. You were only human, after all. Sorcerer or not. Being a step below Satoru Gojo soon felt insulting and even though you didn’t consider him to be a rival, it still felt like… a drag, almost. His power was ingrained within him, whereas for you, it was a never ending grind.
It wasn’t quite envy, but you wished it could be easier. If even for a single day.
However, when your graduated classmate seemed to acknowledge your efforts, it technically felt like he appreciated you after all. A validation beyond anything you could dream of; his attention feeling almost intoxicating as he delivered what felt like genuine praise upon your believing ears.
But then it all started to go wrong and you weren’t sure why.
How were you supposed to know however that beneath his easy smile and casually friendly demeanour laid something else beyond what he presented you with? That through your rise to the top, the expectations that followed, he saw you as nothing more than a threat? Another cog to add to the failing machine, a system that he wanted to take down as his own. True, he played the part of a supportive friend, feeding you words to help you feel secure in your success, but there was something darker that lurked beneath his cheery surface.
How were you supposed to know that after he invited you over for coffee, that you’d soon fall asleep from the spiked liquid, only later to wake up with your hands and wrists completely bound?
It was a sickening realisation as you soon understood that behind those friendly words that you thought were spoken in confidence to you as his friend were nothing more than fleeting sweet nothings that he lied into your ears, leading you believe in a version of him that didn’t exist. He had everyone fooled, but especially you, into thinking that he could coexist with his rival.
Tucking you away into a small closet, at least for now, the room felt awfully confining as it housed you. You knew you were in deep trouble, especially as his words now came out cold, unforgiving and almost mocking.
“Don’t cry,” he spoke, “I’ll keep you company. I’ll make you feel like the spotlight always stays on you, but unfortunately, nobody else will ever see or hear from you again.”
Quickly stifling your protesting lip that quivered in response, pausing your voice that urged to fight past the horrific situation you had found yourself within, he didn’t let you. Instead, he spoke on your behalf.
“Don’t cry,” he repeated with more emphasis this time, “I’m saving you. Being the strongest shouldn’t be your responsibility to bear alone, that’s why I’m lifting the burden for you.”
And with that he closed the door, watching your trust fade away as the world around you darkened.
But it was for a good cause.
To keep you safe.
Satoru however grew needier and needier the more often he visited you, keeping you all locked up in his room, somehow perfectly bound and unable to leave. It was only a matter of time before he grew curious about you in that sort of way, seeing you as both something to protect as well as demanding stress release from you.
It was so exhausting keeping you as his big secret, after all. You had no idea what he had to go through to keep this all under wraps.
So when he sprawled you out over the bed, it wasn’t as though you didn’t anticipate it after all that he had otherwise done to you, but it still hurt all the same.
You grunted as it happened, taking a hit face down into the mattress; your whole body sinking over the soon crumpled bedding. You tried to fight him off—yet even as strong as you were—it wasn’t enough, even for you.
He pulled you up, raising your hips to meet with his own building excitement before peeling your jeans down and sliding your underwear away too. All he had to was shuffle out of his own clothes, dropping the fabric down to his knees. You couldn’t see a thing as he forced you to face away, but you could feel as his cock pressed against your sex and forcefully slid inside.
It didn’t matter how much you writhed around and begged him to stop, nor how much your legs thrashed or how your hands tried to pull themselves away from his pursuit; he wouldn’t pull away—instead however—he would push forward, again and again and again.
He grabbed at your hips and dug crescents into your skin with his fingernails for stability, wrapping his palms around you as he slammed himself back and forth your soon bruised ass. It felt insulting as he shushed you through your involuntarily whimpers, because what else were you supposed to do… especially in a situation like this?
“Please,” you gasped out.
Yet he never kept giving you the response you wanted, his voice deceptively warm as he spoke behind you, “You have no idea how good you feel.”
He would continue to cut you off with every protest with a praise, yet nothing about how he complimented you felt good at all.
“Such a good girl, taking me so well.”
“You’re so incredible, I knew it was a good thing I kept you around.”
“So good, so good—“
All it would do was make you feel sicker and sicker, somewhat nauseating you as he continued to pound inside your abused cunt. You couldn’t help but feel nauseated, maybe even dizzied from what was happening because you simply couldn’t understand why. If this was the consequence from your academic effort, then you would have never tried to reach for the stars, if it was as bleak as this.
Satoru continued to spear his length into you; his size hurting you as it stretched against your resisting walls. His cock filled you out completely, feeling almost torturous with how he would relieve you from the pressure as he pulled out, only to impale you again, forcing tears to spill out of your eyes when you felt it all happen again.
Each and every single thrust felt rougher than the last, as if he was beginning to lose himself in the sensation. He would bury his hips as far as he could into the cushioning of your ass, chasing the addiction of the release he wanted so goddamn much.
Soon enough however, he flipped you around to your back, taking in the sight of your dishevelled appearance; your messy hair, your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes and both the best and the worst of all, the overall look or hurt and betrayal.
Satoru didn’t give you a warning as he started it all up again, positioning himself in between your legs while maintaining eye contact with you. Those chilling blue eyes were no longer serene, but painful as they bored into yours and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.
He moved into you again, wrapping your now tired legs around his shoulders, enjoying the sensation of your surrendered weak state. He lifted you ever so slightly yet again, pushing his cock into your core and melting into you once again.
Satoru was relentless as he pounded into you, bucking his hips feverishly as he chased his almost strained release. The entire time, he wouldn’t break eye contact with you, forcing you to watch as he mercilessly took you again and again. Your insides clenched around him, longing for him to stop but he wasn’t quite ready just yet.
He picked up the pace regardless, shuddering out shaky breaths as he pushed himself to his limit; slowing down with each remaining thrust, yet rutting at a more impactful rhythm. He was close too, he was so fucking close. It was an addictive sight to him after all, to see your body convulse and quiver from him overwhelming you, to watch as you longed for his release too (even if it was for a completely different reason).
Leaning down for both comfort and the rising sensation, he pumped his length forward one last time before going limp. His hips grinded themselves a little more however, attempting to milk himself as much as possible into your shuddering body.
Yet, it didn’t seem to be entirely over as he pulled away from you ever so slightly.
Perhaps you were naive for thinking that this would be the end after he got what he wanted.
As his lips brushed against your ear, you couldn’t help but feel almost frozen from the delusions he whispered forth.
“I’ll promise that I’ll never leave you now,” he assured you, meaning every last word, because after all, there was no greater love than something so sickeningly obsessive as something unrequited.
