instead of getting the girl, gojo just got her pregnant! how's he supposed to win you over when you only seem to see him as the baby daddy?
synopsis: when the frat president becomes the father of your daughter, the last thing you expected were his brothers to start bidding to be the step dad! can he prove that he's serious about starting a life together for the three of you - or will someone swoop in to steal both his girls?
pairing: frat!gojo x milf!reader x frat!geto (also starring frat!sukuna)
content: mdni!! fluff, angst, college au, unrealistic frat depictions, parties, drinking, accidental pregnancy, HEAVY jealousy, raising a baby, they all want to be the daddy, lots of pining, gojo being lovesick and stupid, denying feelings
art cr: @zeilorene0 on x div cr: @/tsumiinum
Most days, you woke up to a crying baby.
But the scent of something burning wafting through your open bedroom door snapped you out of your dreams, eyes shooting open as you scrambled to your feet, nearly hitting the wall as you hurried out into the hall calling for Gojo.
"What the hell is-"
"Morning, sweetheart," your baby daddy grinned, his mini-me chewing on the straps of the carrier he put her in, all pressed against his chest as he wielded a spatula. "Just making breakfast."
"You're going to set off the smoke alarm," you grumbled, suppressing a yawn as your stare swept over the mess he made of your kitchen. Flour and sugar scattered across pretty much every spare surface, three pans fighting for space on the stovetop. "And-"
"Uh-uh," he interrupted you, pressing the spatula to your lips in a playful attempt to shush you that really just left you tempted to snap the utensil in half.
You smacked it away instead, scowling at him as he had the audacity to look hurt by it. "I hope you're planning on cleaning all of this up."
"Of course," he whined, turning back just in time to flip his next pancake over just as the edges started to go from golden to brown. The burnt remains of his first attempt was on a plate, a bite taken out of it like he had to test to see if it was edible. "How dumb do you think I am?"
You stared blankly back at him, and he just frowned at you, pretty lips turning down before reluctantly parting again.
"Don't answer that."
And practically on cue, the fire alarm did go off, your hands immediately covering up Umi's ears as Gojo's face scrunched up in pure panic.
He was trying to say that he'd just turn it off, but even at over six feet tall, he couldn't quite reach the alarm - which meant you were forced to follow him as he grabbed a stool.
"Don't be stupid," you hissed, flustered and frustrated as you half-yanked Umi out of her carrier as carefully as you could, holding her against your chest and trying to keep her ears covered while she started to wail. Big fat tears rolling down her beautiful blue eyes, frightened by the noise or maybe the father of the year nearly setting your place on fire.
He was smacking the alarm, clearly confused on how it even worked while you shouted at him to press the fucking button on it, bouncing Umi as you paced. By the time he figured out how to get it to stop blaring, the food cooking on the stove was about to start it going again.
"Ah, shit," he groaned, flipping off the burners in quick succession as you stared at what had previously been your perfectly clean kitchen.
You pressed a soft kiss to Umi's forehead as you cooed to soothe her, glaring up at him as he sheepishly stared at the remains of the breakfast he'd surely have to dump.
Was this just your life now?
A whiny baby and a whinier baby daddy? Burned breakfast before you had the chance to even use the bathroom?
"Can I just get like, a coffee?" You asked, not even feeling like telling him off as you turned towards the couch, tempted to just collapse and feed Umi so at least one of you didn't have to go hungry.
"Yeah, whatever you want," Gojo mumbled, all low and defeated. "I'll just order delivery."
"Thanks," you exhaled, curling up into the corner of your couch and lifting up your shirt to let Umi drink, her chubby little fingers digging into your skin as you made a mental note to trim her nails later.
To your surprise, after he placed an order, he actually did start to clean the mess he made. Wiping down counters as he chewed his bottom lip, throwing out the food he failed to cook properly before doing the dishes and sweeping the flour off the floor.
Sometimes, it felt remarkably strange to watch him act all...domestic.
Like he really lived here instead of the frat house across the street.
Doing chores without complaints, existing in your life like he always had a place in it. You guessed he would from now on. You couldn't exactly untie yourself to him when you shared a daughter.
Would he always stick around to do the laundry? To order you food and vacuum the floor? Or would he get sick of fatherhood after a few more months? Resign himself to being the kind of dad who only sent cards around birthdays and holidays?
It was hard not to think that.
Not when you'd heard so many horror stories and seen it for yourself how easily men could discard someone the moment a better option came along.
It was simpler to assume that someday you would get replaced by a younger, prettier model. One who didn't have a child he never asked for.
Gojo was the kind of guy who'd marry someone like him. Rich and beautiful and well-bred.
Not the broke girl he accidentally knocked up in college.
"Um, by the way, my parents asked to keep her overnight next weekend," he awkwardly said, sheepishly running his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was on edge.
"Don't you think she's still a little young for sleepovers?" You asked, pushing a few wispy strands of white hair back from her face as she sleepily shut her eyes.
"I mean, I don't know, they just asked," he floundered, blinking too fast as he finished cleaning, drying his hands off on a paper towel and tossing it in the trash.
"Gojo," you said his name, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you squinted, trying to figure out what his angle was here.
Was he going to try and ask you on a date?
Jealous that Suguru had taken you out before him?
A sick thought crossed your mind that maybe the only reason they both seemed so interested was because they liked the competition. You felt a little fucking ill considering it, picturing them bickering over who would get you to be their girlfriend first - just to dump you when they got bored.
You wanted to believe Suguru was genuine.
That he had a crush on you too - before you let his best friend put a baby in you.
"There's also, uh, a party next Friday, and I just thought, that maybe you'd wanna go," Gojo added. "Or go hang out with your other friends. I don't know, you deserve a break and-"
"Fine," you grumbled, gritting your teeth. Despite how their spawn turned out, you didn't mind his parents. They were relatively normal. Responsible.
More importantly, they adored their granddaughter.
And for some reason, actually liked you too.
At first, you were sure they probably secretly hated you. Harbored resentment for screwing up the big plans they had for him.
Instead, it seemed like they thought you were the only reason he'd gotten serious. Or well, as close to it that someone like Satoru could come.
His mother had confided in you that she was grateful he'd gone from a frat president to a father.
"You're her dad too, you know you have a say in decisions like these," you muttered under your breath as she popped off your nipple.
You glanced up at Gojo, expecting him to play it all off, pretend to be all unbothered like usual. But his blue eyes were soft, touched. Looking at you all tenderly as he scooted a couple inches closer.
"I never want to make you uncomfortable," he murmured.
"Thanks," you cleared your throat, the words coming out nearly a whisper as Umi squirmed in your hold, her head turning towards her dad, reaching out for him. "I'm just saying, she's ours."
You wished you'd kept your mouth shut once it came out.
But it was the truth.
She wasn't just yours, or just his.
She belonged to both of you.
It was just fucking annoying that he smiled at you all soft and cute, eyes crinkling as he echoed, "Yeah, ours."
ꕤꕤꕤ
You were supposed to be having a girl's night out.
How that ended in you at Gojo's goddamn frat party four drinks in?
Your head was too fuzzy for you to precisely recall.
Chest sore and swollen, nipples rubbing uncomfortably against the pads in your bra, the tiny dress you'd shoved yourself back into for the first time in nearly a year and a half rolling uncomfortably up your thighs as you downed another shot. A chorus of giggles erupting from friends you sincerely missed hanging out with, an arm wrapped around your waist as someone slurred in your ear, "Don't look so sad."
"I don't look sad," you argued, huffing at her as you untangled yourself. "I'm very happy."
Not particularly.
But you couldn't stop yourself from desperately trying to believe you weren't miserable walking around the house that had landed you in this situation before.
You'd only managed to get a few conversations in with Suguru all week. Mostly just talking about how much you both enjoyed your date (even if you spent the majority of it in your car) and how he missed you and Umi, too busy with some paper he had to write and his part-time job to visit for more than a handful of minutes at a time.
Gojo, on the other hand?
Wouldn't fucking leave your apartment.
Usually something would draw his attention away, whether it was school or work or one of the other thousand responsibilities he seemingly had.
But every time you needed him (and every moment you very much didn't), he was there. Whenever you needed someone to watch Umi so you could go to class. Whenever you were attempting to take a shower in peace.
Sleeping on your couch even when though the springs creaked and groaned with just the slightest movement. Waking up at midnight to coax Umi back to sleep with a bottle you pumped.
He had managed to successfully pack you a lunch in the fridge this morning, accompanied by a little note saying he hoped you attended the party tonight.
You weren't going to come.
But somehow, your paths always seemed to intersect right when you hadn't planned on it.
"How's it going with Geto?" Shoko asked, as if she wasn't friends with him and your baby daddy and hadn't already heard first hand.
"Good," you answered before half-heartedly shrugging. "I think."
It wasn't like he was your boyfriend yet.
Or the two of you were exclusive.
For all you knew, he could be talking to ten other women.
"How's Gojo taking it?" She pressed, a hint of amusement betraying her bored tone as she tilted her head to the side.
"I don't know," you mumbled, wondering if the guilt the question stirred was normal. Neither guy had ever treated you remotely normal - no wonder you were constantly so confused when it came to them.
Her mouth parted, but then Utahime came up, squealing and giggling as she drunkenly grabbed her arm.
You excused yourself, slipping away from them as your head swirled with questions you didn't want the answers to. God, it'd been so fucking long since you'd been drunk.
Chest all warm and fuzzy, your thoughts thick clouds that kept slipping away from you as if someone had stuffed cotton balls between your brain and your skull.
Your hangover tomorrow morning would be definitely be a bitch.
But that just sorta sounded like tomorrow you's problem.
People let you squeeze past them - even though you heard familiar whispers as you slipped through the thick throngs of sorority sisters and assholes trying to get recruited.
Slut.
The common theory around campus was you were just some poor whore who managed to baby trap Gojo.
Like you'd held him fucking hostage and demanded that he take care of all your needs or that you were somehow just playing hard-to-get to manipulate him into doing what you wanted.
Clueless that what you wanted was for him to just move on already.
"You're here."
You stalled at the sound of his voice.
Freezing right before the bathroom, glancing back to see him standing there, a red solo cup in hand and a cheeky smile plastered on his face. "You actually came."
"Uh-huh," you replied, not sure how you were supposed to feel as your throat went all dry.
"You look gorgeous," he grinned, letting his brilliant stare sweep over you, looking you up-and-down three times before his eyes finally settled on your face. "Holy shit."
"I'm drunk," you muttered, blinking a few times as you tried to come up with an excuse to evacuate. "I really need to pee."
"I'll go with you," he eagerly said, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking, "I, uh, I'll wait outside."
And like a needy puppy, he really did just stand there when you shut the door to the bathroom, pacing the tiled floor as you kicked aside a few empty cups to sit on the closed toilet seat and take a couple minutes to breathe.
He didn't seem drunk.
Maybe he could call you an uber or something or walk you across the street back home.
Staying seemed like a mistake waiting to happen. Someone would say something or you would do something stupid and you'd have just another mess to take care of in the morning.
You got up to splash water on your face, a pathetic attempt to sober up as you sighed.
No matter how much you wanted to, hiding away and pretending none of your problems existed wouldn't solve anything.
But when you opened the door, Gojo wasn't alone anymore.
No, just like you knew there would be here, a pretty blonde was grabbing his bicep, squeezing tight and laughing at something he said that surely could never be that funny. She had dragged him a few feet away from the door, trying to subtly pull him deeper into the crowd.
You couldn't see what face he was making.
You didn't think you wanted to.
Fuck.
You knew this was a bad idea.
But once again, you doubted your fucking instincts and paid the price.
Slipping your way back through, nearly spilling a few drinks as you had to force your way past where people had clustered, head swiveling to find the exist despite your disorientation.
A voice in your head begging you to just go, go, go, as you mumbled awkward apologies to anyone you brushed against.
And then you heard a low chuckle, and you were pausing your escape to look back over your shoulder - where you almost immediately spotted your other suitor.
Suguru was leaning against a wall, no drinks in his hand, but an easy smirk on his face as he listened to some dark-haired girl beside him.
God. Of course.
Zero for two tonight.
Minding your own business probably made you an easy mark.
How simple was it to sneak under your nose when you were walking around blind to what they did behind your back?
Once they were outside of your apartment, they were free agents.
It wasn't like you had caught them actually having sex with anyone. But you'd been the pretty girl at a party they smiled at before. You knew where it led.
They could go fuck whoever they wanted.
You could too.
All the maturity you'd been clinging to, pretending you were so abundant in flung out the first fucking window you saw at the realization that all you were ever going to be was a prize for them to win.
You fumbled for your purse once you finally made it through the front door and into fresh air, blinking too fast as you yanked your phone out and scanned through your contacts. Clumsily clicking on the screen until you found the one you wanted.
"Hi, um, Sukuna?" You breathed, swallowing hard. "Can you come pick me up?"
gojo used to think he liked everyone. even the pretty popular girls that just used him for help on their homework and the frat idiots who only invited him to parties because he was friends with geto. he was a good person. the kind of guy people went to when they needed something. a gracious genius with a heart of gold.
and then he met you.
annoying attractive you.
stuck in a study group together and forced to watch you twirl your hair around your finger while you leaned over to look at whatever nanami was typing on his laptop. chirping away clueless at his locked jaw, indignation bubbling up as you proudly presented an incorrect fact about digimon, eyes glittering with excitement gojo couldn't resist the urge to squash.
"erm, actually-"
he expected you to look crushed when he systematically explained every single thing wrong with what you just said. but no, you just nodded along, thanking him with a perky chirp that sent a stab of embarrassment through his carefully crafted mask. pushing up his thick glasses with a huff, grumbling a you're welcome he really didn't mean.
you pissed him off.
and he couldn't even pinpoint why.
maybe it was the way you didn't care about being wrong. all those interests you seemingly shared that you couldn't even get your details correct about. or how sweetly you smiled at him no matter how much of a dickhead he was when he mocked you for it.
but the only thing that made him feel remotely better was watching the cracks in your cute facade start to form with each consecutive jab, how the light in your eyes dimmed and your lips started to curl down when you saw him, the way you began to leave study sessions early or sit as far from him in class as you could. excusing yourself from conversations, chewing on your bottom lip whenever gojo opened his mouth.
geto told him to stop when he accidentally knocked your books off the table.
nanami called him an asshole when he pointed out that your notes were kinda sloppy.
he might've dropped it. only showed up to the study group when you weren't there. shut his mouth and stewed in his irrational irritation when you bent over to pick up your glittery pen in some ridiculously short skirt.
but then he had the cruel misfortune to be assigned your partner in a project worth far too much of his grade for him to not give a shit. and you, of course, wouldn't take the fucking hint when he said he'd rather do it by himself than risk you screwing it up.
he couldn't stand you.
the last place on the planet he wanted you to be was in his dorm.
so, uh, how the hell did he end up like this?
your glossy lips wrapped around his throbbing cock, his swollen tip ramming into the back of your throat as he threaded his fingers through your hair, his glasses nearly falling off his face as he fucked your mouth. one hand on his keyboard as he attempted to focus on the work at hand, even though his eyes kept drifting to where you were tucked beneath his desk.
"i-is this all you're good for?" he groaned, gritting his molars as he pulled you by your loose ponytail, tugging you back and forth, nearly whining at the greedy way you were sucking and slurping around him.
you couldn't speak.
but he took your weak moan as a yes anyway, the reverberations rolling through his body as his abs reflexively tightened, itching for a quickly impending release.
fuck. it wasn't fair.
you shouldn't look so pretty like this. so goddamn gorgeous with a mouth full of him and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth, rolling down your chin as you eagerly serviced him.
"is this your part of the project?" he sarcastically mumbled, struggling not to stutter when you were taking him so perfectly. tongue pressing up against his pulsing veins, letting out little gagging sounds when he fucked you faster.
"mm," you whimpered for him, and he was cumming down your throat before he could so much as warn you, thick ropes of it spurting out as he let out a filthy groan of your name.
sure, he could probably finish the project in a few hours. but maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing if it, uh, took a couple days to complete.
"stupid girl," he muttered under his breath, his voice almost cracking as he sucked in ragged gasps.
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 14k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, breeding, masturbating, overstimulation, desperate gojo, oral sex, jealous reader, abusive parents, major fluff, some angst, probably more!
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
chapter two series masterlist
* click ! *
Gojo’s new camera goes off and for a moment the view in front of him is overcome from the brightness of the flash. His hands are barely gripping the polaroid when it’s done printing, fingers pinching the edges so as to not ruin it with his sweat.
He wasn’t a professional by any means but Gojo had promised Suguru they could document their college lives together and he loved to capture moments that stood out to him. It just so happens that you were always catching his eye.
When his vision clears up and all that’s left are little dots of light, he’s looking down at the photo and half smiling, his chest tightening at the sight.
You were so beautiful, flashing that smile that always left his heart beating a little faster. Your hair was freshly curled, makeup enhancing your natural beauty, the oversized sweater you wore was slipping off your shoulder and covering half of your skirt. He could still hear you now, laughing at something Yuki had said and his mind was going a mile per second.
He knew you hated him and yet, he could still feel his heart growing double the size from the pure adoration he felt for you.
So entrancing. So perfect.
All Gojo wanted was for you to look at him, to acknowledge his existence with more than disgust or indifference. He’d even settle for the glare you were giving him now, a year after he took that photo. Your lips set in a pout so pretty that he had to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing your arm, pulling you into his lap and begging you to forgive him.
Gojo sat on the couch with his head in his hands, his leg bouncing and heart thumping so hard that it was painful. He could barely breathe, nerves getting the best of him for the first time in his life. He was always so calm, so lazily self-assured, and now here he was falling apart on his couch while you held proof that he had been paying attention to you longer than he cared to admit.
“I take pictures of things that capture my eye. You just happen to do that a lot.” He gives a shaky laugh, running his hands through his hair.
Gojo had plenty of pictures of all of his friends, all completely innocent. Did he, on the rare occasions you allowed yourself to be around him, take some of you? Yes and he always been upfront about his feelings for you so he couldn’t understand why you were so fucking mad at him right now.
“That’s not a good enough explanation, Satoru.”
And fuck, Gojo wishes you would stick with his last name if you were going to say his first with such poison in your voice. You only ever called him Satoru when he was fucking you and it made his chest ache that his first time hearing it in a casual setting was like this.
He looks up. His blue eyes burning and red rimmed, and the sight makes your stomach clench in a way that makes you angry at yourself. You should have thrown the pictures at him, should have been more furious. You are furious but underneath it was something worse, a sick feeling that had been growing since you started this arrangement nearly three months ago. Something that grew every time he took you roughly in the library or softly on his bed, hands tracing your entire body as if he was worshipping you while he was balls deep inside of you.
Every time he made you forget every reason you had for keeping him at arm's length.
He saw you and that was the problem. Not as the stuck up, frat hater who had everything together, that everyone knew you to be. But the girl whose nose crinkled when she laughed too hard and the girl that played with her fingers as a nervous tick when a conversation was dragging. He saw all of this through a fucking lens and it scared you.
He had been collecting evidence of your humanity for two years, and you had never known.
“I need a break.” You finally spit out.
Gojo’s breath caught in his throat, the bouncing of leg slowing as he tried to process what you just said.
“From what?” He asks quietly, even though he knows the answer.
"From this, Satoru. From-" You gesture between you both, hands shaking, trying your best to keep your voice from cracking. "We can keep working on the project but no more experimenting on each other. Public meet ups only like normal people, and once a week. No more of whatever this is."
"Whatever this is." He repeats, his face twisting like he was tasting something bitter.
"You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure even though your fingers nervously played with the ends of his shirt that swallowed you.
He stood up. He was so tall, six-three and all long limbs and broad shoulders, and he usually used that height to loom over you playfully, to trap you against walls and annoy you. Now he just looked like a man who was doing a shitty job at holding himself together.
“Please.. Don’t do this.” And he doesn’t stop his tears from falling this time because if you’re going to break his fucking heart over a few pictures then he might as well let you know it.
“Satoru..” You frown, shifting your weight from one leg to the other and avoiding eye contact.
“Stop hiding from me!” His patience snaps and he walks around the coffee table to stand in front of you, his face hot with frustration and impatience. Both of his hands come up and hold onto your face with force, not aggressive, but enough to tilt your head up and make you look in his eyes.
He can barely breathe with the way you’re looking at him, eyes glossy as you chewed on your bottom lip and frowned at him. How pathetic was he, that he felt a glimmer of hope just because you weren’t glaring at him like you usually did.
“I’m not hiding.” You whisper, bottom lip shaking.
“Tch, you’ve been hiding since the day I met you. You hide behind hating frats, behind calling me a nepo baby and this whole enemies with benefits bullshit because you’re too afraid to admit that you might like me too.” He looks at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “You’re a coward.”
He watches the way your eyes darken, notices your hands move just from the slightest shift in your posture and he just knows you’re digging your nails in your palms right now, because of fucking course he notices everything about you.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
You look at him for a moment, eyes boring into his and just when he thinks that he might have broken through to you, when he starts to lean down so he could kiss you and end this petty game of pretending, you yank your body away from him and stomp past him to his room.
He follows you, heart cracking with each step. You were grabbing your dress off the floor, yanking his shirt over your head and quickly sliding your own clothes back over your body. Gojo kept calling your name, begging you to stop but you ignored him as you slipped your panties back on. All he could do was watch as you moved around his room and gathered your things.
Hopeless. Defeated.
“I’ll text you about the project, okay?”
“Right.. The project.” His voice was flat, hollowed out in a way that made him sound far from the cocky, arrogant jokester he usually was.
He didn't move from where he stood, but you felt the weight of him behind you as you walked past him and slipped on your shoes, the silence worse than shouting.
You wanted to turn around. Wanted to see if his eyes were still on you or if he'd finally looked away but you didn't. You couldn't.
If you turned around, you would stay, and if you stayed, you would have to admit that the ache in your chest wasn't anger at all, that it was something far more dangerous, something you weren’t ready to admit yet.
You heard him call your name one last time as you opened his front door, a sound so small and defeated it made your eyes burn, hands coming up to rub at them.
Then you walked to the nearest bus stop, feet burning from your heels, and you broke.
The apartment was silent, Gojo too lost in his own thoughts, his mind playing the moment you walked out the door on repeat. He should have stopped you, should have done more to get you to stay but he didn’t. Instead he stood there and watched you leave, too angry at you and himself to actually do anything.
He shouldn’t have gotten that fucking camera, shouldn’t have listened to Suguru. It seemed like every past decision was coming back to bite him in the ass. Join a frat? Turns out the girl he’d end up falling for rightfully hates them and anyone involved in them. Buy a camera to capture precious moments? Guess what? She hates that too!
He couldn’t fucking win.
Gojo was persistent, he loved a good competition, but right now he was at a loss at what to do, staring at the Theta Phi hoodie hanging by his bedroom door with pure disgust.
Everything wrong with his life had started because of the fraternity he had been forced into. The life he never wanted for himself but had been too much of a push over to actually fight against.
He could remember your words from that day in the library, when you asked him why he didn't just say no to joining the frat. He had told you his father's ultimatum and while that wasn't a lie, the truth was that Gojo was the true coward, not you.
You risked losing a relationship with your only surviving parent to follow your dreams, while Gojo knew good and well that as an only child, his father would never truly disown him.
He had just been used to pleasing his parents, keeping up family legacy and making them proud.
Only it made him miserable in the end and sacrificing his happiness for the sake of others, had only led to the only girl that made him want to be better, walking out on him.
Gojo knew he had a choice to make. Leave the frat, tell his father to kiss his fucking ass or lose any chance he has with you.
He knew exactly which one to make.
You were sitting on your bed, knees pulled to your chest and replaying every word Gojo had said to you. You're a coward. You like me too. What the fuck did he know?
Gojo didn't know you, couldn't possibly understand what you were feeling. That's what you told yourself to block out his voice that kept echoing in your head. You wanted to be angry at him, but that anger kept turning into something softer and more terrifying, as you pressed your forehead against your knees and tried to breathe.
You hated frat boys. They were incompetent, plagues to society and Gojo Satoru was a fucking frat president so what did that say about him? There was no way someone like you could ever fall for someone like him.
It was mathematically impossible.
Sure, the sex was amazing and sure you believed he was one of the most beautiful creatures alive, and sure he made you laugh in a way you hadn't since your father died, but that didn't mean anything.
You had learned from your mother and her failed relationships long ago that men were often disappointing and decided freshmen year that you simply only needed them for sex. To satiate your high libido and leave it at that.
Gojo wouldn't be the exception. He couldn't be.
You needed to get your shit together, push your cravings to the side and remember who you were and that was far from the girl who overthought about a man, especially one like Gojo.
Someone who could find you in a crowd of thousands, someone who left goosebumps on your arms whenever he touched you, someone who took pictures of you that showed you in the most positive light even though you had been nothing but nasty to him. Some who-
Your head snaps up when the door opens and Shoko walks in, her backpack half off one shoulder and her face set in an expression that meant she was pissed, brown hair falling in her eyes.
"Sho-"
"We need to talk." She cuts you off and you swallow, hands starting to shake again. You squeezed them to hide your distraught state, though you were sure she'd be able to read your face like she was always able to.
"I really don't have the patience for this right now." And it wasn't a lie. You were hanging on by a very loose thread and couldn't handle anyone else's baggage right now.
"Too bad." Shoko dropped her bag on her bed and turned to you, hands on her hips and her face set in a scowl. "I saw you at the club last night with Gojo. Care to explain?"
You felt your body go rigid. You were so consumed by your own jealousy last night that you hadn't thought that someone might see you, that your friends might see you.
Fuck.
"Shoko- I don't-" You stutter, tongue growing heavy.
"How long? How long have you been hiding this from me?"
This couldn't happen at a worse time. "It's not what you think-"
"Don't shut me out again!" Shoko's voice was sharp but her eyes were hurt and it made you sink, curling into yourself. "Is he the one you hid in the closet that one time? Or the one you've been basically living with since god knows you haven't been here."
You said nothing, throat closing up. The words wouldn't come, and the ones that might have were trapped beneath the pressure building in your chest.
"Is he the guy who's been making you happy?" Shoko asked, her voice softer this time, hands falling from her hips. "Because I've noticed, you know? I've noticed you coming back to the room at weird hours with that look on your face. I've noticed you smiling at your phone. I'm not stupid (name)."
The tears came before you could stop them, hot and spilling down your cheeks as you pressed your face into your knees and your shoulders shook violently. You hated that you were crying in front of someone, hated that you couldn't hold it together, hated that Gojo had embedded himself so deep that you couldn't claw him out.
Hated that you somewhere along the way, you had stopped truly hating him and it morphed into something else.
The mattress dips beside you and Shoko's pulling you into her arms, holding your head to her chest and rubbing your arms.
"Hey." She says quietly. "I'm not judging you. I promise I'm not. If he makes you happy then that's all that matters, not what anyone else thinks. He's more than a frat boy, and you know it, or you wouldn't be crying like this."
You cry harder, angry at her for being right, angry at yourself for not being able to admit it. This was supposed to be simple, an agreement between two horny college students to satisfy each others needs and leave it at that.
Catching feelings had never been apart of the plan.
Shoko didn't say anything else, just let you cry until you eventually fell asleep and she left to confront a certain white haired frat president.
When you woke, it was the next morning and your head was pounding, cheeks stained with dry tears. Your chest still ached from last night and your eyes were heavy from oversleeping.
You sigh, rubbing your hands down your face and rolling over to check your phone. 9:30 am, fuck. You had a morning shift today and if you didn't get up now you were going to be late, but still, you couldn't move your legs.
Especially when you saw you had a few texts and three missed calls from your mom.
mom: hi honey! i'm in town and want to see you. let me know when you're free
mom: we should talk, it's been a while
The last text made you roll your eyes. It's been a while because she couldn't get over the fact that you had chosen a different path in life then she had wanted for you.
Nevertheless, you couldn't deal with her right now. So you kept scrolling through your messages, a few from your friends checking in on you and then his name popped up and your breath caught.
gojo (dni): you okay?
Just two words but it made your heart rate spike.
You should respond, probably let him know you made it home safe but you couldn't. Guilt and annoyance latched to you, because even after breaking him he's still checking on you.
You knew you had been unfair, never really gave him a chance to prove that he was more than what his fraternity represented.
Sure his personality could be insufferable at times and he usually made you want to pull your hair out, but there had been another side to him you discovered in the weeks you spent together.
Gojo could be a gentleman when he wanted. Opening doors for you, bringing you coffee during your library study sessions, getting flowers and your favorites food delivered when you weren't even speaking.
Remembering your favorite things in the first place. When was the last time anyone ever paid that much attention to you and it wasn't sexual?
God, you were so fucked.
You send your mom a quick text agreeing to meet after your tomorrow and only responded i'm fine to Gojo before quickly showering and washing your traitor thoughts away.
❤︎
Three days later, you were baking the last of the cupcakes for tomorrow, humming to yourself as you delicately applied the icing and did your best to ignore the intruding memories from that day.
Soft jazz music played in the background as the last of the customers began to leave. The bakery was always slow at closing time, one or two regulars lingering until they were told it was time to go.
You were wiping down the front counter when the bell above the door chimed. Your mother walked in like she owned the place, which was typical of her. Long fur coat, perfect posture, the same disapproving tilt to her mouth that she’d worn since the day your father was buried.
You stand taller, setting the rag on the table. "Mom." The word came out strangled, nerves getting the best of you.
She hadn't shown when you gave her the address to your job and you thought maybe she decided it was best to leave you alone and yet here she was, standing in the middle of the small bakery as if she hadn't stood you up mere days ago.
“You look well.” Your mother surveyed the bakery with mild interest. “Can we sit? I’d like to talk.”
You nod and straighten to your full height, nodding to a booth and sliding in across from her, wiping the sweat from your hands on your apron.
She looked good, better than when you left for college two years ago. Happy despite the permanent scowl on her face. Her eyes were still sunken but not as dark as they used to be, hair actually styled and she had makeup on for the first time since you were a pre-teen.
You sat across from each other like diplomats from countries at war, her hands folding in front of her and revealing her freshly polished nails. The huge ring on her finger nearly blinding you.
Oh.
She clears her throat and forces a smile, covering the ring with her other hand. "I'm getting married." She says, no preamble. “Next month. Small ceremony on the beachfront. I’d like you to be there.”
Another man you were supposed to welcome into the rotation of strangers your mother had always chosen over stability. Over you.
After your father died, your mother was a wreck and basically shut you and your sister out. While she always provided financially, she was hardly an emotionally supportive mother. She forced you into gymnastics to get you out of her hair and demanded perfection from you.
Then came the men. Your mother never settled, claiming she had been given the world from your dad and knew her worth. Most of her relationships never made it past a few months, and she was the main reason for your stance on men now.
You had to bite your tongue, stopping yourself from asking her how long this one would last.
"Congratulations." You managed to spit out.
"HIs name is Masamichi. We both work in the same school and just clicked.” Your mother smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve. "Going on almost a year now."
"I'm happy for you mom. I'll try my best to make it."
Your mom bites the inside of her cheek, clearly annoyed you weren't jumping for joy and planning dress shopping dates and bachelorette's. What did she expect after icing you out for making your own decisions?
“Is there anyone special in your life?” Your mother asked, awkwardly shifting topics since she hadn't gotten the reaction she wanted. “A boyfriend? Someone serious?”
Gojo's face invaded your sight, blue eyes filled to the brim with tears and white hair tousled. The way he’d looked on the couch, shattered and stripped bare, heart bleeding for the same girl who'd wounded him.
You resented him and the way your mind found him first no matter how hard you tried to push him away. Gojo wasn't your man and he never would be. you two just weren't compatible and that was the end of it.
"No." You shift uncomfortably, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. "I'm focused on school."
Your mother nods and you can't tell if she's satisfied or just done with the topic. The conversation wound down after that, pleasantries and promises to send the wedding details. You thought that maybe there was a chance you could move on from the hiccup of her not accepting your choice, that you could have a normal mother daughter relationship.
Until she opened her mouth.
“I still don’t understand why you gave up gymnastics. You had real talent.”
You take in a deep breath before responding, the smile completely wiped from your face. "It isn't what I wanted. Not much to it."
“What you wanted.” Your mother’s laugh was thin and humorless and pissed you the fuck off. “You were a dumb teenager. What did you know about what you wanted? Do you know how much money I wasted getting you to that level?”
Fuck her! How many times did you have to explain the same thing? You should have know better than to believe your mother would accept things not going the way she planned. That she would accept you for who you were and just be fucking happy for you.
"I didn't ask you to!"
“No, you just woke up one day and decided all those years meant nothing.” Your mother’s voice tightened, the polished veneer cracking just enough to show the old resentment underneath. “You were going to regionals. You had scouts watching you and you walked away like it was nothing.”
“It was never my dream. It was yours.” You gripped your apron to stop yourself from shaking. “You never once asked me if I was happy.”
“Happy.” She fumes, saying the word like it was something you hadn't been deserving of, something you hadn't earned since your dad died. “What does happiness have to do with talent? With opportunity? You don’t get to waste something like that and pretend it was some principled choice.”
You didn’t answer. Just stared at her dumbstruck, not being able to process that she was doing this right now. That she still wasn't over this.
Your pulse was hammering, head pounding as Gojo's laugh echoed through your skull. You felt sick.
You stood abruptly, the booth’s vinyl squeaking beneath you. “You know what? Go fuck yourself. Seriously. Go marry guy number thirty and play happy family. Just leave me out of it.”
You don't give her the chance to see the tear falling down your face, stomping toward the back and ignoring your coworkers worried face, sinking at the sound of your mother calling you a coward.
It was another two days before you seen Gojo again.
You were in the middle of your psychology lecture when he waked in late, slithering into a seat next to you, his cologne hitting you like a truck.
You kept your eyes forward, but your hands were shaking underneath your sleeves and your stomach was flipping viciously. He wasn't making an effort to talk to you, just pulled out his laptop and started typing in whatever the professor was saying as if you weren't sitting right there.
You noticed he didn't sit next to Suguru, who had opted to sit a few rows in front of you and even though you shouldn't care about anything involving Gojo outside of your project, you still wondered why he chose to sit next to you instead.
"Psychology says that we like people that are kind, respectful, perhaps even funny." Your professor paces the podium, hands on her hips as she looks to the crowd. "But research shows that it's actually more than that. Proximity plays a huge factor in how close we become with someone, which makes sense because the more you're exposed to something, the more you like it."
"Of course." Gojo speaks up next to you, his deep voice vibrating down to your fucking soul and you didn't realize how much you missed it until now. "The mirror exposure effect."
Your professor nods and smiles at him and you can't control the rush of jealously that hits you. Why did you care? It was just a smile, and Gojo was not your man to get jealous and possessive over.
"Correct. Simply seeing something makes it likable, perhaps because it becomes comfortable and safe."
You want to die when you think about sleeping in Gojo's bed, warm and secure with his arms wrapped tight around you despite your no cuddling rule. Bodies tired and sweaty after going six rounds. His warm lips pressed so softly to yours, even though you swore kissing was off limits but kissed back every fucking time.
"Now by a show of hands, how many of you have a best friend in this very college?"
More than half the room raises their hands, including you and Gojo.
"Okay." She nods her head and continues. "Now how many in a different college?"
Three or four hands go up.
"Now statically and psychologically speaking, if you were going to marry someone from this class, it's the person you're sitting next to."
Your heart almost jumps out your chest, heat flooding your face and Gojo sucking in a sharp breath next to you, halting his typing while the class laughs.
Marriage.
Your professor was an idiot if she thought you'd ever marry Satoru fucking Gojo. What did she know? You weren't a statistic and Gojo was not your type in a boyfriend, let alone a husband.
Still, your brain, traitorous thing it was, pictured Gojo a little older and standing at the end of an aisle, wearing a black tux suit and a ring on his finger as he smiled at you.
His bride, his wife. His last name becoming yours.
You almost choked on your spit, fingers gripping the desk so hard you thought it might split.
This was exactly why you'd ended things.
Because somewhere between the arguments, the sarcastic remarks, and the stolen afternoons tangled up in his sheets, your feelings had warped from hatred to indifference to something else you refused to believe was even possible.
You'd caught yourself wondering what he was doing when he didn't text. Smiling whenever his name lit up your phone. Looking for him during games before you even realized what you were doing.
Then you found the pictures. They weren't bad, you knew that, but it would still hurt less if you found a hundred of you naked because that was physical and those pictures were far too intimate.
You made the right choice, right? You needed space, needed time to remember that Gojo was the same frat boy you hated for two years and that a few good moments didn't change anything.
So why was that becoming harder to believe with every passing day?
Especially when you finally turn your head to look at him and he's already looking at you, wearing those stupid glasses with his stupid white hair falling into his eyes, annoyingly hypnotic blue eyes locked on yours.
His cheeks were flushed pink, and he looked like he wanted to say something to you, but opted for smiling instead.
"Hi." He whispers and you just about pass out, an ache growing between your legs.
This wasn't you. You weren't weak, didn't fawn over men like Gojo and you were a known bitch, you could still be one. And yet, you simply said: "Hi." all breathy like a love sick puppy and you wanted to throw up.
You blamed it on the fact that you hadn't gotten fucked in days and the lack of sexual gratification was suffocating your brain, blocking out your common sense.
He clears his throat, shifting in his seat and leaning slightly closer to you. It gave you the opportunity to notice the small freckle on the side of his jaw and the tiny crease between his eyebrows which always meant he was thinking of what to say next.
Since when did you start noticing these things? You used to pride yourself on how easy he was to ignore and now you couldn't stop noticing him. It made you sick, fingers curling around the sleeves of your sweater as you waited for him to speak first, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.
"I just-" He clears his throat. "If you're free today, I was wondering if you wanted to meet at the library? To study of course."
He quickly adds the last part and you have to bite back a smile. His nervousness was cute. Good, you liked your men a little scared of you.
You nod and fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from biting your nails, a nasty habit you had picked up again after meeting with your mom.
"Yes." You squeak and cringe at the sound of your too high pitched voice, ignoring the way he smirks at you. "I mean yeah, sounds great. 4pm good for you?"
You nor Gojo notice your professor smiling at you both.
Later that day you stared at the vibrator in your hand with red hot anger, the little purple piece of shit that had been your only lifeline for the past four days.
You clicked the button again. Nothing. You clicked it two more times, rapid, angry, embarrassingly desperate.
"Are you kidding me." You mutter, falling back on your pillow with a loud groan.
Shoko was gone, Thursday lab sessions that kept her out most of the day. Which meant you had exactly two hours of privacy before your study session, a dead vibrator, and a problem that was starting to make you genuinely lose your mind.
Four days. It's been four days since you told Gojo your deal was off and you were to be nothing but project partners. Your assignment was due in a few more weeks and you had started to slack on it the more time you spent around him. You couldn't think straight when he was around. Couldn't think straight when he was inside you either, which was the whole issue.
You squeeze your legs together, the cotton of your shorts pressing against your wet cunt.
It wasn't like you missed him. You did not miss him. Gojo Satoru was a frat boy with an ego the size of a delivery truck and a smirk that made you want to slap it off his face almost as much as you wanted to sit on it.
You didn't miss him, you missed the sex. There was a difference. There was definitely a difference, and you were going to keep telling yourself that until you were blue in the face.
Your skin felt too tight, body going through withdrawal after being able to have Gojo inside of you whenever you want. Him taking you against every surface of his apartment, in library study rooms and even in his car where anyone could have seen.
You lift your hips and pull down your shorts and panties, kicking them off the bed.
This was fine. You didn't need a shitty vibrator anyways, you'd been getting yourself off before you had it and you could do it again. Your hands slipped between your legs, your pussy already wet, had been wet since Gojo sat next to you and looked at you like he wanted to eat you.
Your fingers slid through your slick warmth easily and you closed your eyes, sighing as your walls stretched around you.
You imagined they were Gojo's, long and thick, hitting parts of you that your fingers just couldn't reach. He knew exactly where to put them. He knew exactly how much pressure you needed, and he always gave you just slightly less than that until you dug your nails into his arm and made him.
Your thumb slowly circled your clit and you bit your lip.
You thought about the last time he fucked you, four days ago before you called everything off. He had you on your back and was pushing his cock so deep that you almost felt him in your chest. His eyes were locked on yours, telling you "that's it, take what you need." and you came so hard your vision blurred.
You thought about how deep he came inside of you, forging the condom and shooting ropes of hot cum into your heat.
Your hips lifted off the bed, chasing your hand as you curled your fingers and fucked yourself like Gojo would.
You thought about him going down on you, tongue pressed flat against you before he focused right where you needed him, his lips sealing around your clit while his fingers worked inside you.
"Ngghh, fuck." You cried into the empty room, wet sloshing sounds filling the space as you pushed yourself toward the brink.
You were close. You could feel it building, that tight coil low in your stomach, and you pushed another finger inside and used your other hand on your clit while you thought about Gojo's voice. The low rasp it got when he was turned on, the way he cried your name as you bounced on his cock.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand but you ignored it, crying out as your orgasm pulsed through your body, pussy clenching around your fingers, and you imaged it was Gojo's cock. That he was telling you how you were such a good girl, his pretty princess.
Across campus, Gojo leaned his forehead against the cool tile of the shower and let the water fall against his shoulders. Football practice had ended forty minutes ago and everyone else had cleared out, leaving him alone with the ache that had been gnawing at him for four days straight.
It was pathetic. He knew it was pathetic.
He was Satoru Gojo, and he could have any girl (with the sole exception of you) that he wanted, and here he was, jerking off in the showers like a freshman who'd just discovered his dick, because some junior with a sharp tongue and a hatred of frat boys had decided to call off your mutually beneficial agreement.
His hand moved slow at first, palm slick with remnants of soap, stroking himself from the base and squeezing the tip. He let his mind wander to where it was did.
To you.
To the way you looked up at him when he was inside you, that glare you wore even when you were gasping, even when your nails were digging into his shoulders and your legs were wrapped around his waist.
You never surrendered and that's what he loved most about you. You took what you wanted from him and made him work for the rest, and it drove him absolutely insane with lust and admiration.
He tightened his grip, a low groan escaping his throat.
Fuck. He should hate you with the way you treat him, yet he needed you like he needed air and he was sick that you couldn't see how desperate you made him. Didn't understand why you were punishing both him and you just because you were scared of your own feelings.
His strokes grew faster and he thought about your mouth. The way you bit your lip when you were close, the way your mouth felt around his cock when you sucked him dry in the club like a common whore.
Gojo never found you hotter than that night. All horny and jealous like you didn't already know that every part of him belonged to you.
"Hmmph, fuck," he muttered, voice wrecked and low, "bet you're touching yourself right now too, aren't you, princess? Bet you can't- haaah, s-shit, can't get me out of your head either."
The pressure was building at the base of his spine, his breath coming in harsh pants against the tile, and he didn't even try to hold back. There was no one here to hear him. No one to see the great Satoru Gojo coming apart in the showers because some girl had gotten under his skin and refused to leave.
He came with a guttural sound, his release spilling over his fist hot and heavy and onto the shower floor, his body tensing and shuddering through it, water washing it away. His cock pulsed aggressively as he whispered your name like a prayer, stroking himself a few more times before collapsing against the wall.
Gojo got to the library before you, texting to let you know that he found a spot on the second floor and he got you a "treat." It set your nerves on fire, not knowing what to expect after telling him you were strictly project partners.
When you spotted him, your body betrayed you, the hair on your arms standing at the sight of him already typing with a book open next to him. He was dressed in a grey sweatsuit, his glasses slightly slipping down his nose and his hair still a little damp.
Next to him was a coffee up and a takeout bag from your favorite shop and you wanted to scream at him. To stop being so nice after you broke him, to stop messing with your fucking emotions because two months ago you would have gagged at the idea of him sitting in your vicinity and now he was remembering your favorite treats and treating you like you were more than forced acquittances.
Clawing himself deeper and deeper into your essences.
You shrug it off, quietly sitting in front of him and avoiding meeting his eyes. You could feel him staring at you but you had to be strong, to remember your own morals that he had effortlessly chipped away at every time he fucked you.
Remember the promise you made to your sister about frat boys and staying far away from them.
"Hi." He whispers but you simply grunt and pull out your laptop, hating the way your cheeks were burning and your spine was tingling from his smothering presence.
"Let's start where we last left off and then we can move onto drafting our conclusions, yeah?" You look up for a spit second and he's tilting his head at you, biting back a smile.
"What?" You scowl even though your pulse skyrockets.
He doesn't say anything, just hands you the bag and pushes the coffee toward you, which you gladly accept and mumble a thanks.
You stay like that for a bit, sipping your coffee and going through your notes from your last study session, pretending like you didn't have to squeeze your thighs whenever you'd occasionally look at Gojo. Grateful your laptop was blocking your shaking fingers, just like he was grateful you couldn't see his raging boner that wouldn't go down despite his repeat attempts of smoothing it over.
"Alright." You speak after twenty minutes, looking at the man in front of you again. "We still need another theory to support our conclusion."
Gojo nodded, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair, his knees hitting yours. You pull back and bite your tongue, which only makes him smile.
"What about cognitive dissonance?"
You roll your eyes. It was obvious where he was going with this but you listen anyways.
"Explain."
"It's when someone's beliefs don't line up with their behavior." His voice is too smug for your liking and you squeeze your hand under the table. "The psychological discomfort makes them either change their actions or convince themselves their actions mean something else."
You nod in agreement, typing a few notes into your document. "That could work."
"Especially in relationships."
Your fingers hesitated above the keyboard but you don't look up, eyes burning from the blue light.
"How so?"
"Someone says one thing but they keep doing the opposite." His voice grates on your nerves and makes your pussy clench around nothing at the same time. "So if someone says they don't like a person but keeps sleeping with them.."
You glare, crossing your own arms and finally looking at him. "You don't have to personalize every theory. Do you have an academic point to make or are you just trying to annoy me?"
Gojo's jaw tightens and he glares right back at you, clearly still pissed off that you ended things despite giving him days to get over it. He always knew this was a means to an end and now he was trying to you the bad guy. Tuh!
"I'm talking about the theory."
"Funny. It doesn't sound like it." You spit back, your own anger taking over. How could you finish this stupid project if you couldn't be around each other without fighting?
"Maybe because you're the one making it personal."
A bitter laugh escaped you. "I'm making it personal?"
"Admit it (name). You ended things with me because you can't fucking accept that you might like the very thing you claim to hate. That's cognitive dissonance."
"You don't know what I feel at all." You seethe, lowering your voice when a guy a few tables down looks between you both. "Stop acting like you know me just because we fucked."
"Then tell me." He sits forward, folding his hands in front of him on the table and god, he's too close now. You can't fucking breathe.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't owe you anything."
He doesn't respond at first, holding your gaze until you almost feel like cowering but not a fucking chance! You weren't backing down to him of all people.
"No." He sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose. "But stop acting like i'm crazy for noticing that your words don't align with your actions."
You stared at him, heat rushing up your neck and to your ears. "You're unbelievable. Typical frat boy thinks the world revolves around him."
His expression cracks and he looks so offended that you could laugh. He hardly showed shame over his fraternity before but now he was getting shy?
"Don't call me that."
"Why?"
Your laptop goes dark from inactivity but you don't bother to fix it, too caught up in Gojo's blues, losing yourself. This was the problem. You couldn't even look at him with the same disgust you used to hold. You were falling for him. A cheerleader falling for a frat boy. It was so cliché it made you want to scream.
"Because I left that hell hole the same day you left me."
Your stomach dropped. "What?"
He just shrugs, flipping the next page of his book as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on you. The library seemed to disappear around you as you focused solely on him, trying to process what he said.
"Had my foot half way out the door anyways, figured I'd take a page from your book and live my life for myself."
You nod, dumbfounded. You weren't sure how to feel, since for two years you only ever saw Gojo as an egotistic, big headed frat president. You remember that one time after he fucked you in his car and begged you to go on a date, implying he'd leave the frat if you gave him a chance.
"Ok."
You're mostly silent again, occasionally stealing glances when you had a new discovery to share but Gojo remained on his best behavior and you tried to not take every psychological theory too personal.
Everything was so confusing, you felt like you couldn't even trust your own brain, which is why thirty minutes later you were opening your mouth and telling your own truth before you could stop yourself.
"I cut my mom off."
You hadn't even told Shoko but it felt.. right, telling Gojo. Especially after he opened up about leaving the frat. It would still take time to see him as someone else but you could pretend for now.
"Yeah?" He whispers, looking at you over his laptop and you want to die because never in your life did you think you'd be in this moment, telling Gojo over all people your family drama.
"Yeah. She couldn't accept me for who I am and I guess I just didn't care to hold onto her anymore."
Which was true. After your mother embarrassed you in front of your coworker, you blocked her on everything, going as far as to block her email. You even texted your sister and told her you had no interest in hearing about your mom anymore.
He nods. "Look at us, breaking generational trauma for our future kids"
Your eyes widen, cheeks burning brighter than the fucking sun and Gojo has the nerve to just smile and hum, looking back at his laptop like you weren't imagining your future offspring with suspiciously familiar white hair and stupidly gorgeous blue eyes.
The day Gojo broke came a week later.
He had been good, giving you the space you so desperately needed to try to forget all the moments you shared. He stopped bringing up what happened between you two during your study sessions even if he always left painfully hard.
He was trying to show you that he could be more than the image he had built for himself. He wasn't going to give up when he had gotten this far. You were stubborn but so was he.
Which is why he agreed to go to Utahime's sorority party with Suguru. He quit his fraternity, passing the torch to Sukuna but that didn't mean his life had stopped.
So he said yes and while he needed to destress after a shit week, he mostly agreed with the hope of seeing you. He didn't know how much longer he could take of this petty game between you two but he was willing to wait.
You were worth it and Gojo was anything but a quitter.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and let his gaze drift. Utahime had gone all out for this one. The decorations were excessive in his opinion. String lights crisscrossed the ceiling, there were pink and white balloons bouncing through the crowd, and a banner hung that read "Fuck Midterms" in pretty pink letters.
It was hardly anything like a frat party, way more organized and less crowded.
"I'm going to find a real drink," Suguru announced, craning his neck to yell over the music. "You want something?"
"I'm good." Gojo kept his eyes on the crowd, looking for the one person he couldn't stop thinking about.
It didn't take long for him to find you, a talent he developed after two years of fixating on you.
You were standing near the far wall with Shoko and Yuki, a drink in one hand and the other gesturing something that made Shoko laugh. His breath caught, eyes burning because he refused to blink.
Your outfit was innocent enough, cute as fuck if anything and that was a problem. You were dressed like a sweetheart, wearing a checkered brown skirt with tights, a brown shirt that fell half off your shoulders and white socks paired with your favorite Mary Janes shoes. Bow in your hair.
Dressed as if you weren't a massive bitch that made his dick hard every time you were mean to him. Gojo hadn't even known he was a masochist until he met you.
His chest did something stupid when you tossed your head forward and laughed, hair that he desperately missed pulling, falling into your face.
Fuck, he was miserable.
You were, objectively and infuriatingly, the most beautiful woman in the room. On the campus. In the entire country. Had Gojo met every woman in Japan to know that? No and he didn't need to. It was an undeniable fact that no one could touch you in the beauty department.
He took another sip of his terrible beer, noticing that some guy across the room was looking at you too. Gojo's hand tightened around his cup hard enough to make the pink plastic crack.
You weren't his. He knew that, you made it very fucking clear. But knowing it and accepting it were two different things, and right now the gap between you felt like the Grand Canyon.
And then he saw Suguru.
His so called friend was moving through the crowd and heading straight toward your group. Gojo frowned, stomach dropping when he remembered their conversation at the bar.
"How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?"
Suguru clearly hadn't forgotten it and if looks could kill, Gojo would be in handcuffs right now.
When his best friend reached your group, he watched him say hello to your friends before he leans in to whisper something to you. Gojo felt his adrenaline spike, a dangerous type of jealousy making his stomach twist.
You turned toward Suguru, and Gojo watched your face shift into something polite but guarded. He almost laughed until you smiled at whatever his friend had said to you.
It wasn't the same smile you gave him in the privacy of his apartment but it was a smile Suguru didn't deserve. What the fuck did he know about effort? About humiliating himself over and over just for a second of your time?
When you said something back and Suguru laughed, he decided he was done standing around and letting his friend attempt to sweep you off your feet.
So he drained his cup, crushed it and left it on the nearest surface before he started walking toward you.
You felt his presence before you saw him, just as you did the same night you met him. That was the thing about Gojo, when he decided to move, the air seemed to rearrange itself around him, like even the molecules knew to get out of his way.
"—and that's when I told him, 'Bro, you cannot microwave aluminum foil,'" Suguru was saying, and you laughed because it was genuinely funny, even if the person delivering it was operating under a misconception about your interest level.
You weren't stupid. You remembered what Gojo told you, how his friend had entered some petty competetion over you, one you wanted nothing to do with.
He was nice, cute even, you sometimes enjoyed his company when your friends occasionally invited him to your hang outs. But that was the extent of it, there was nothing else there for you.
He wasn't Gojo.
So when he started hitting on you, complementing your hair and twirling it in his fingers, you immediately thought of Gojo and how he did the same thing at his frat party two years ago.
You kindly pull your head away, annoyed because Shoko and Yuki seemed to have disappeared and now you'd have to let down someone you thought was your friend.
"Look." You hear your throat. "I don't know what you're doing but I'm not into frat boys so let's just end this here alright? You’re nice and-"
"What if I told you I was different from the others?" Suguru leaned his shoulder against the wall, hands tucked in his pocket.
You raised an eyebrow. "I'd say you sound exactly like the others."
"Ouch."
You almost felt bad, but the fact was that your brain kept comparing him to someone else and that comparison wasn't in his favor. Better to let him down now.
You opened your mouth to tell him that you were flattered but not looking for anything right now, some line you had to use against every other guy that tried to hit on you since Gojo stopped leaving territorial marks on your neck.
Then the air shifted and suddenly there was a very tall, very white-haired interruption standing directly in front of you both.
You knew he was pissed because he wasn't looking at you but at his friend who only smirked back at him. Perfect, fucking splendid.
How did you end up in this mess? Stuck between two idiots and ditched by your own friends. This was not how the night was supposed to go.
"Satoru." You look up at him, straightening your posture, hearts bouncing in your eyes because he looked hot as fuck. "I didn't know you were coming."
"I didn't either." He kept his eyes on Suguru and just as you were about to walk away, he gently grabbed your arm, keeping you in place. You glared up at him but he didn't break, just kept you right by his side.
"Don't leave now, princess. I just wanted to know what was so funny, care to repeat Geto?"
Suguru's expression flickered just for a second, a flash of amusement before he settled back into his easy charm and shrugged.
You snatch away from Gojo. His jealously was hot but annoying as fuck, since you already told the idiot that you had no interest in his friend but clearly he didn't believe you.
You hated repeating yourself.
"I was actually just about to-" You started.
"Actually," Gojo cut in, stepping closer to you, and you could see the way his jaw tightened. "I need to talk to you about the project. The psychology project. The one we're partners on. Remember? Huge chunk of our grade?"
You stared at him with a look that said you would strangle him if he didn't fuck off. "It's eleven o'clock at night."
"Academic emergencies don't have business hours."
"We have a meeting on Tuesday."
"This can't wait until Tuesday."
You wanted to laugh because he was clearly lying, but fine, you'd humor him. It was easier to let Gojo down then Suguru and you were going to light his fucking ass up for embarrassing you.
So you let him grab your hand and pull you through the crowd, ignoring the hole Suguru was burning into your back. Ignoring the looks people gave you as Gojo pulled you into the nearest room and closed the door, locking it behind him.
You didn't waste time, skin hot and tight with anger. You pushed him back against the door, pointing your finger at his chest.
"Where do you get off acting like your own me? How fucking dare you humiliate me like that?"
Gojo eyes look like a kicked puppy but the rest of his face was pissed off, jaw tight, nose flared and cheeks tinted pink.
"He was manipulating you and you were letting him."
You laugh and throw your hands up. "I can handle myself! And news flash, I'm not your fucking girlfriend, I can do and talk to whoever I want.
"What?" He pushes himself off the wall, moving closer to you and forcing you to move back. "You think Suguru can handle you? Can fuck you better than I can? Deal with your bratty attitude like I do?" Gojo was fuming, growing hotter by the second as he watched your chest heave and was overcome with the desire to rip your shirt off.
Fuck you and that stupid outfit.
You stare dumbfounded for a second before something else takes over and you smile, crossing your arms and taking another step back. Fine, you could play this game too. If he wanted to embarrass you then you would demean him.
"You want me so bad? Get on your knees and beg."
You think he'll laugh at you, tell you to cut your bullshit and say something about how he's Satoru Gojo and tell you to go to hell. So imagine your surprise when he steps closer before slowly lowering himself to floor, his hands coming to hold your hips as he titled his head back to keep his eyes on yours.
They were stripped of every trace of their usual arrogance. There wasn't a hint of the cocky frat president who flirted his way through life. Just a man who looked exhausted.
Your mouth slightly opens, heart hammering in your chest because what the fuck? You're caught off guard but do your best to keep your face twisted, not wanting him to notice your surprise.
You were still pissed off but smirk. "Good boy."
Gojo lets out a breathy laugh, placing his head on your lower belly and laughing before pulling back again.
"I'm begging you." His thumbs rub smooth against your sides and your body jolts in response. If he notices, he doesn't acknowledge it, just keeps looking at you with desperate and pleading eyes.
"I just need one date, one chance. I promise I won't let you down."
You consider it, life as his girlfriend. Pros? Limitless sex, obviously. Then there was the fact that no one had made you truly laugh like he did, not since you lost your dad. He listened to you even when you raged at him, saw right through your mean girl shield, even was brave enough to call you out on it. He left an entire fraternity, that's how well he listened.
Cons? Your pride. The whispers that would inevitably spread around campus the second people found out the ex frat president was dating the girl who'd spent two years publicly despising him.
The biggest one though? You had to admit you were wrong. That you deprived yourself of genuine love because you were scared that this was all an act, because you let your mother's own dating record warp your perception of men and relationships.
You still hated frats, that would never change but Gojo was more than a frat boy, he left it just to prove to you that he was different. That couldn't be faked, right?
You sigh, reaching a hand down to push his hair from his eyes and swallow the rising bile. "Ok, Satoru."
Gojo leans back and blinks, adams apple bobbing when he swallows, knees shifting. "Yeah?"
"Don't make me regret it," you muttered.
The corners of his mouth twitched upward, hope flickering across his face so quickly it hurt to look at. It made your stomach flutter.
"Just to be clear," you said before he could get carried away, pointing a finger at his chest. "We're not dating. This is a chance for you to prove yourself."
He nods all too fast, quickly standing and before you can even blink, pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widened before you sink into it, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and his hands pull you close.
Gojo spent the next week damn near glued to your hip, taking you on dates that ended with steamy make out sessions and him eating your pussy because you wouldn’t let him fuck you just yet.
He did everything that would make anyone swoon: every day flowers, romantic displays of affection, paying for literally anything you needed or didn’t need, constantly telling you just how beautiful you were and how lucky he was.
Only it meant something more coming from Gojo.
Your first date was at some fancy restaurant and while you appreciated it, the best by far was going to the movies to the newest Spiderman film. Gojo sat by your side, his hand reaching to hold yours. You settled into it, letting yourself relax into his touch despite the still lingering unsureness. He just smiled at you, lifting your hand to kiss it six times.
“Favorite number is six, remember?”
You used your vibrator until it died, that night.
Now here you were, sitting across from him on his bed with your legs crossed as you played 21 questions, opting for staying in since it hadn't stopped raining. It felt weird being back at his place since the last time you were here was the day you ended things.
"Ok, your turn." You smile and pulled down your rising shirt, boobs spilling from the tank top you had left at his pace.
It disturbed you when realized just how much of your shit was at his place. You even had a toothbrush there, and it was so domestic it made you sick.
"Hmm, what's your biggest fear and why?"
You take a second to think, finding it harder each passing day to think when he stared at you like that, like you were the only person in the world. Gojo was good at holding eye contact and you usually were too, until it came to him.
"Umm, probably being haunted by a spirit."
Gojo laughs hard enough that you notice the very small dimples on his face, unnoticeable to anyone not paying attention.
Your neck burns as you reach forward to smack his chest, his body falling back on the bed. You don't think, because you're terrible at that around him, and climb over his body. Your hair crowns around your face, hands placed by the side of his head to keep yourself up, and you glare down at him even though there's no bite to it.
"What's funny?"
Gojo's laugh eases into a smile, his hands coming up to hold your hips, eyes softening.
'Spirits aren't real, sweetheart. You have nothing to be afraid of."
You pout, pretty glossed lips sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Gojo has to actively restrain himself from flipping you over and taking you right there.
He couldn't rush this, had to keep patient until you made the first move.
"Fine, but what if it's different? Like some kind of monster, like.. a curse?"
Gojo fits a brow. "A curse?"
You groan and lower your head to his chest, flustered and embarrassed because you had no idea what you were talking about. "Whatever." you mumbled, voice muffled by his body.
Gojo wraps his arms around you and reaches down to kiss the top of your head, pulling you tight.
"Then I'd exercise it."
It's your turn to laugh, looking up at him while he tucks your hair behind your ear. "I don't think you can beat a curse. You’d lose."
He just shrugs, thumb rubbing at your bottom lip.
"Nah I'd win."
"Uh huh, sure." You sit back up and don't miss the way Gojo's smile drops by an inch, sitting back and crossing your legs again.
Your belly Is doing all kind of flips when he sits up, his shirt rising just enough to show off his sleeper build and the print of his hard cock pressing against his sweats.
"My turn. What's your biggest regret in life?"
He takes a moment before speaking, looking down at his lap before locking eyes with you. "Not making you mine sooner."
You swallow hard, the sound of your blood rushing in your ears while you covered up your rattled state with an eye roll and a push of his shoulder, which he just lazily smirks at.
"Ha ha ha, very funny. Next question."
"Queen twenty-one. Can i kiss you?"
And your body moves before your brain does, nodding your head and gasping when he pulls you closer, helping you climb on his lap, your knees settling on either side of his hips. You look down at him, forehead pressed to his as you breathed each other in, Gojo smiling and playing with your hair.
"Missed you." He huffed, his eyes locked on your lips. You closed yours, his attention too overwhelming and it made your head spin.
"I know."
"You're driving me insane," he breathed against your mouth,, lips grazing yours and making you shiver.
"Good," You whispered. "You deserve it."
And when his lips finally pressed against yours, you swear your soul left your body. That’s the only way to explain what you were feeling, the entire world forgotten as he held your face and kissed you like it had been years.
You poured the same passion back, relieved because you were finally letting yourself feel. To lose yourself in his touch without guilt eating at you. Gojo wasn't a frat boy anymore, he had showed you just as much. You hadn't broken any promise to yourself, you were allowed to be happy if only for a night.
The fight had finally, catastrophically failed. Your mouth was hot and demanding, and when he gripped your waist, you pressed closer, rolling your hips forward and made his breath hitch.
You pulled away first, huffing into each others space as you caught your breath. You smiled, he smiled and everything felt so right, like this is where you finally stopped depriving yourself of full breaths and you could finally breathe properly.
"You miss me that much?" You roll your hips again, taking pride in the way he gasps and his cock twitches against your shorts.
He laughed, and the vibration of it made you shiver. "You're so evil.. my mean princess."
And then you were kissing again, deeper, messier, all tongue and teeth and the wet, desperate sounds of two people who had spent too long deprived of consuming each other.
His hands slid up your shirt, toying with the straps of your bra and making your nipples harden. You arched into him as he unsnapped it and pulled it off, fingernails scraping against his scalp and he swallowed the sound you made.
"Off." You said, tugging at his shirt. "Take this off."
He pulled it over his head in one motion and tossed it somewhere. you stopped to look at him, eyes tracing the lines of his shoulders, the definition of his chest and then you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his collarbone, and Gojo thought he might actually lose his mind.
"Damn I missed this, missed you so much baby." he said, voice rough.
"Yeah?" You lick a long stripe up his neck and pull back to look at him, eyes cloudy with lust. "Show me."
Gojo flipped you and before you could blink, you were on your back and he was between your legs, sitting back on his knees as he pulled your shirt off.
It was his time to admire you, eyeing your tits like they were candy and Gojo swears he almost drooled. You were somehow more beautiful then the last time he saw you like this, if that were at all even possible.
You were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
"Fuck, you're unbelievable." And he was leaning down, pressing his face to one of your boobs and inhaling deeply before taking the nipple in his mouth.
You head tossed back, a loud moan spilling from your lips because it had been entirely too long since he was on you. You wanted to skip the foreplay, needed him inside you so bad that you might pass out from excitement but you were patient, knowing h needed this just as much as you needed him.
Then he kissed his way down your body, slow and deliberate, pausing at the ridge of your ribs, the soft skin just below your navel. Your breath was coming faster now, your fingers tangled in the sheets.
"Satoru." The way you said his name, half plea, was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.
"Tell me to stop and I stop."
"Don't stop."
He pulled your shorts and panties down, slowly, pressing kisses to your hips as he went. You trembled something desperate and he looked up at you, blue eyes shining with pride and your expression was so raw and vulnerable that something in his chest cracked wide open.
You never let him see you like this, your eyes glossy with tears.
"You're beautiful," he said, staring directly at your leaking cunt plastered in his face.
"Shut up," You whispered but your voice broke on the words and Gojo took that as his sign to put his mouth on you.
The first lick had you moaning like he was already fucking you and Gojo swears up and down that your juices had some kind of addictive in it, making his tongue tingle and his throat burn for more.
Then he was gripping your hips to pull you closer, too deranged to hear your gasp, and pressing his face against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth.
He would remember the sound you made for the rest of his life, a sharp gasp that turned into a broken moan. Your hand flew to his hair, gripping tight, and bucking your hips against him. Gojo took his time, learning you with his tongue, reading every shiver and sigh like it was a secret language only he would ever understand.
No other men would ever be able to read you like he could, make you feel as euphoric as he knew how to.
You were his and fuck, Gojo was going to show you better than he could tell you.
So he ate your pussy like a starved man (he was starving for you, to be clear), your cries and moans only spurring him on. You were falling apart under his mouth and the way you grinned against him for more had him dizzy, totally drunk on your sweetness.
"Hnnnghhh, please S-satoru, oh god I can't take it!" You cried when he lightly bit your clit and immediately licked at your hole, pushing his tongue in.
He didn't stop. He held your hips steady and worked you through it, feeling your thighs shake against his hand and moving his tongue in circles, using a hand to rub at your clit.
He was crazed, blue eyes brighter than ever as he watched you while he sent you to nirvana. You cried, tears falling from the corner of your eyes as you looked down at him, mouth dropped open and eyebrows furrowed.
You knew you were a sex addict, that much was obvious but you didn't realize just how much you needed this. You lied, convincing yourself that your fingers and vibrator could make you cum just as well Gojo.
A fat fucking lie.
Nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the way he was fucking you with his tongue right now. You were on the brink, your stomach twisting more and more, the closer you got.
You tightened your grip on his hair, back arching off the bed and legs wrapping around his neck. Gojo was trapped but he was exactly where he wanted to be and he'd have to pried off you cold and dead before he made you squirt in his mouth.
Fuck, he needed it so bad, so he applied more pressure to your swollen clit, used his tongue to fuck your gummy walls faster.
A wave was building deep in your core and when you broke, it was with a cry that seemed to pull from somewhere far inside of you. You spine arched impossibly further, his name desperately spilling from your lips and he had to use his free hand to keep your hips down.
He didn't pull back when you squirted, swallowing what he could and letting the rest splash his face. He wanted it all, not letting up until your body collapsed against the bed and you were pushing him away.
He wiped his face and stood to remove his pants and boxers, his nine inches rock hard and leaking at the red, mushroom tip.
The bed dipped from his weight as he kissed his way back up your body. You were breathing hard, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed. The most beautiful girl, truly.
When he reached your face and kissed the side of your mouth, you looked at him like he grew and extra head, an amused laugh leaving your lips.
"Where the hell did you learn that?"
He smirks, all cocky and insufferable like the Gojo you knew and your heart skips a beat. "Natural talent, princess."
"I hate you."
He smiles even wider, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. "No you don't."
You don't confirm or deny it and that's more than enough for Gojo. Baby steps were still steps, right?
When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent you reeling, your need for him spiking to dangerous levels.
"Inside me," You whispered against his lips. "Now. Please."
And who was Gojo to deny you? What his princess wants, she gets. So he didn't waste a second, rubbing his cock between your slick for lube before lining himself up with your entrance.
He pressed into you slowly, agonizingly slowly. You were warm and slick and tight, and every inch felt like a revelation, like your pussy held the secrets to the universe and Gojo was desperate for answers.
Your pussy was squeezing him so fucking tight he couldn't breathe and neither could you, gasping and clawing red marks down his back the further he pushed in.
"Satoru, haah, you're so big." You cried, a tear sliding down your chin that he gladly licked at.
"I know, baby. You're doing s-so good, shit, just lay there and let me worship you."
You wrapped your legs around him, heels pressing into the small of his back, and he bottomed out and you both went still, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
Each slow thrust was deliberate, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls and as much as you wanted to close your eyes, you kept them open and held his gaze.
The rhythm built between you was something organic as you met him movement for movement, your hips rising to his, your hands mapping the landscape of his back like you were committing it to memory.
This wasn't like before. Before had been fast and rough and performative, two people using each other to scratch an itch, always one foot out the door. This was different.
"Missed you too, Toru." You force the words from your throat. You weren't strong enough to return his love yet, but you hoped that he understood what you were saying. What you couldn't say.
"I know, baby."
And he pushed deeper, hitting all of your deepest spots, cock pressing at the wall of your cervix and rubbing against your g spot. The rhythm hardly shifted but it was more desperate now.
You were so soft, Gojo could feel you soaking his pubes and the heaven sent sloshing sounds every time he slammed back into you did nothing to stop the tightening of his balls.
You were tightening around him, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts, and he could feel his own edge approaching, a white-hot coil low in his stomach.
Gojo had never come this fast before, but he was helpless to stop it. It was as if your pussy got tighter, wetter because you were finally opening up to him.
"Stay with me, yeah?" He grips one of your legs and lifts it, pressing it to your chest and smacking into you so hard that the headboard smacks against the wall. Fucking you absolutely stupid.
"Yes! God, yes Satoru. I'm, I-m"
He doesn't stop, refused to stop even though he can barely breathe and when you squeeze him in heartbeats, head thrown back in a silent cry with drool sliding down your chin, he knows.
So he goes harder, faster, going insane as you come undone on his cock, your nails burning into his back and he's coming so hard that his eyes roll back and his vision goes white for a second.
He's pushing as deep as he can, load after load of warm cumin stuffing you full and dripping down your ass, onto the sheets. Gojo's thighs tense, fucking you into mattress as his hips twitch sloppily and he feeds your pussy a of his white seed.
He could feel you still pulsing around him, feel the way your body pulled him deeper, and for a long, suspended moment, there was nothing else. No past hatred, no outside forces trying to steal you from him.
Just this. You underneath him panting and rubbing at the marks you left on his back. Him above you, kissing at every inch your face and holding you close like you might disappear.
Neither of you say anything, you don't really need to. Enough has been said and done that you both know what the other is thinking.
The only problem? Gojo's dick was still hard as fuck and you were still clenching around him.
So he didn't say anything, just held your waist tight and flipped your bodies until he was lying on his back and you were seated atop his, biting your lip and failing to hide your smile.
You placed your hands on his red chest and moved your hips forward, sighing at the pure bliss his cock gave and sinking all the way down, so full you could feel him in your stomach. Gojo licks his lips and rubs at your sides, encouraging you to move without speaking.
You listen, slowly sliding up before slamming down, his cum dripping out your pussy and down his length. The sight made Gojo territorial. If that didn't scream that you were his, he didn't know what would.
"Look at you.. so full of me."
You don't answer him, rocking your hips back and forth, up and down, picking up your pace because you just couldn't get enough of him. You had went far too long with his cock and you felt like an addict experiencing relapse.
You were on a different planet. One that consisted of only you, Gojo and his massive cock hitting your deepest parts. Your body rose until only the tip was in before slamming back down.
His hands guided your hips, setting a pace that had both you heated and desperate, and made Gojo's toes curl. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin, wet and obscene, and your breath came in short, sharp bursts.
Your pussy was sore, having been stretched out by Gojo for the first time in over two weeks but you couldn't stop, too dumb on dick. He just felt so so good that you thought you'd die if you did.
"You feel-" He started and you clenched around him deliberately. "Nghhh, god you feel incredible."
"Stop talking."
"I can't, fuck, you're- I lov-"
You kissed him, swallowing whatever he was about to say, and he bit your lower lip, tugging it, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you harder onto him.
The angle shifted, and suddenly he was hitting placing his feet on the mattress and fucking up into you, dragging your pussy down as he went to work.
"There!" You gasped, breaking the kiss and crying against his lips. "Right there Satoru!"
He grunts, fucking you harder, deeper. Every nerve in his body tuned to the same frequency and the pressure in your belly was spreading outward.
"Satoru-"
"I know." He kisses you. "I can feel you."
The edge was right there, and you were teetering, thighs burning, nails digging into his shoulders. He slid one hand between your bodies, thumb finding your overstimulated clit, and he pressed. Firm, circular, relentless.
It hit you like a dam breaking, every muscle seizing, back arching, a sound ripping from your throat that was straight up pornographic. You clenched around him so hard that he groaned, and you felt him twitch inside you, felt the warmth of him spilling into you as his own orgasm followed yours by mere seconds.
"Fuck, fuck, oh wow- gaaaah, holy shit princess."
You collapsed against his chest and Gojo let his body relax against the bed, cock still seated inside of you, hands rubbing at your back, shoulders burning from the crescent moons you dug into his skin.
"That was," he said.
"Yeah."
"Are we still pretending this doesn't mean anything?"
You pulled back enough to look at him. His hair was a mess, sticking to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were soft and he looked like unbelievably weak, like had given you everything he had and was waiting to see if you'd throw it in his face.
You didn't, too tired to pretend anymore. You had caught feelings for Gojo long before he left the frat and you couldn't control that no matter how hard you tried to.
"It means something," You admitted.
Gojo released a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as he whispered a silent prayer before looking back at you, eyes watering. You lean down and kiss them, licking the salty water from your lips.
His smile was so wide it cracked your heart open a little. "Was that so scary?"
You smile back, pushing hair from his forehead. "Oh, the scariest. The horror!"
He laughed, and you felt it vibrate through both of you where you were still connected. You climbed off him reluctantly, collapsing onto the bed beside him, and he pulled you to his chest, dragging a blanket over your naked bodies.
You weren't done with him but you'd let him rest for now.
Gojo caught your hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. You blushed, groaning and digging your face into his chest. You lay there for a bit, basking in the post sex afterglow, his cum still leaking down your thighs and his lips still pressed against your hand.
"We should start writing," You fall to your back, gasping for air after the fifth round, truly fucked out.
"In a minute." Gojo says, following you to the mattress and embedding himself between your legs.
"Satoru."
"Five more minutes, and didn’t I tell you my favorite number is six?." He whispers against your neck, lifting your legs and pushing his cock as deep as it could go.
You rolled your eyes, both in pleasure and defeat. You couldn't resist him even if you wanted to and with the way your pussy was jumping, you clearly didn't want to.
"Fine. Five minutes and you're writing that conclusion wether you want to or not."
He laughs, pulling out before slamming back into you and pushing leftover cum out, your body moving up the bed and the most delicious moan faing from your lips. "This is the conclusion, sweetheart. Research complete, you're mine."
And you realized, with a mix of irritation and happiness, that Gojo was still insufferable and that some things never changed.
"Ms. (last name), can I speak with you for a moment?" Your psychology professor calls as you and Gojo walk toward the door hand in hand.
He leans down to kiss your lips, then your forehead, telling you: "Be right outside the door."
You smile, biting your lip and watching him leave before reluctantly turning to the woman standing a few feet away.
"It seems you and Mr. Gojo have found common ground." Something about her smile made your brows scrunch up, suspicion settling as you moved closer.
"Yeah, guess he's not as bad as I thought." You shrug, kind of annoyed because none of your friends brought up your relationship so why was she?
She nods and hums, looking around before continuing, her smile only growing and you were starting to get irritated. "Is something wrong?" You ask, pushing your bag up your shoulder impatiently. You wanted to get back to Satoru.
"Everything is perfect, actually. You see, I might have been doing a little experiment of my own."
"Oh?" You raise a brow and look around as if telling her to get on with it.
"I paired up those most unlikely to not get along to see how well Newcomb's theory worked in a college setting. Seems he stands corrected and you both passed. Congratulations."
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭
❦ lisa's note: aaand that's a wrap on my fratjo mini series! thanks for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it 🫶 tons more gojo and jjk men coming soon so stick around for that, love you all!
will proofread later, wanted to get this out!
sneaking around with best friend!geto is all fun and games until pretty girls start feeling up his biceps at the bar :(
“someone jealous?” gojo snickered in your ear, slinking up by your side as he waved the bartender over to order another obnoxiously fruity and brightly-colored beverage while you nursed your own suddenly bitter drink.
“yeah, you,” you sarcastically muttered, refusing to feed into his (correct) suspicions that you were sleeping with your mutual friend. the year you’d spent between geto’s sheets didn’t make you his girlfriend though.
not that you ever asked to be either.
“come on,” he goaded, his hip bumping into yours as he cocked his head towards where geto was currently getting groped by a manicured hand. “i know you want to pry him away.”
“so you can grab him next?” you teased, trying to deflect as you twisted around just for his hand to cage you in between his broad frame and the bar top. his pretty blue eyes were fuzzy though, pupils blown wide as you realized that maybe what he’d been sipping on tonight weren’t mocktails after all.
“nah,” he grinned, white teeth glinting as he leaned in lower. “think i’d rather grab you.”
“how much have you had to drink?” you exhaled, eyes drifting down to his glossy lips, lingering there a little longer than they should.
“enough to want a taste of you,” he shamelessly smirked at his attempt to be seductive, his palm sliding up your side as if it always had a place there.
you’d never taken any of his flirting seriously.
but maybe you should’ve.
considering whether or not imploding your situationship over sleeping with your other friend as gojo’s fingertips gracefully slipped down to disappear underneath your dress.
“you’re touching something of mine,” a honeyed voice interrupted with a drawn-out huff, but gojo didn’t pull away.
and a new idea blossomed, your mouth curling up as you glanced between the two men too busy glaring at each other to notice the sparkle in your stare.
what better way to punish your man by showing him just how swiftly a certain someone else would swoop in to steal you?
“boys,” you hummed, clicking your tongue. “don’t you know how nice Paris is right now?”
the cheering from your students made you bite back a chuckle as you stood before your husband in the middle of the training field. the two of you had been pushed into an unexpected position — your second years and his first years betting on who would win in a fight.
whilst you were an experienced sorcerer as well — strong and capable with a powerful technique — you couldn’t act like beating your husband was something realistic. not when your husband was satoru gojo. even though he was very clearly going easy on you (neither of you wanted to hurt each other after all) it was impossible to touch him thanks to his infinity, and as much as you were having fun, you wanted to show off a little more in front of your students. he couldn’t have the spotlight all the time after all.
“c’mon,” you groaned through pants, a small grin still glued to your face because the whole thing really was amusing. “ditch the infinity already you coward.”
the word hit him like a slap to the face coming from you, and like the masochist he was, his expression exploded into something dangerously amused, six eyes gleaming at you like a predator would lock onto prey, blindfold long discarded. you were putting up a good fight so far, and god was he enjoying himself.
“coward, huh?” he snorted, releasing his infinity in the same breath and making the other students hold their breath. “fine. let’s do this fist to fist.”
“that means no cursed energy from you either~”
it was hard to tell who struck first with how fast fists were flying and bodies were moving, your students struggling to keep up with who was doing what. what was clear, however, was how right the two of you were together. where he excelled in brute force and speed, you dominated in stealth and precision, both of you struggling to land punches on each other.
that was when it happened.
you didn’t have time to blink as he faked that sweep and instead grabbed you by your collar before you could gloat about dodging such an obvious attack, your body hitting the ground with a thud after being thrown to the ground face first. everyone fell silent at that, watching eagerly as you tried to get up just to be shoved back to the ground again by a large hand on your shoulder blade and his knee beside your hip, trapping you.
“got you,” he sneered, watching as you squirmed and struggled uselessly beneath him before accepting your fate and falling limp to the ground. “i win.”
as much as you wanted to say something smart in retaliation, the words died on your tongue the second he pressed you down with just a little more pressure, and suddenly you felt a strange heat fill your stomach. it was weirdly thrilling — both of you panting and sweaty while he practically manhandled you to the ground beneath him. your heart was racing both from the adrenaline of the fight and the thoughts swirling into your mind. he was always such a gentle man with you, so this? this was new. exciting.
it was something you couldn’t stop thinking about even hours later when you returned home, darting straight to the bedroom to change out of your uniform. you’d been sweating in it after all. it desperately needed to be washed and so did you.
you weren’t surprised when satoru had entered shortly after you, just as you had peeled off your shirt, revealing your bra to his already hungry eyes. he didn’t say anything at first, just placed his hands on your hips to pull you in for a kiss, huffing like a child when you pulled away. “i’m all sweaty and gross from you pushing me into the ground earlier,” you teased, making him pout.
“you make it sound so cruel,” satoru murmured. “i didn’t push you — i gracefully pinned my gorgeous wife after an epic battle.” he pulled you flush against him again and you scoffed at his words.
“it was far from graceful. you were crushing me. you’re not exactly light you know.” satoru laughed against your lips at that, a low rumbling sound, before he leaned in to nip at your bottom lip playfully.
“crushing you?” he repeated, feigning horror. “i was gentle! delicate even — like i was handling a flower!” to emphasise his point, he fluttered his lashes at you like he was the picture of innocence itself, his heart fluttering seeing you laugh at his poor attempt at a defence.
you leaned in to press a quick pick to his lips. “i wasn’t complaining,” you hummed with a smirk that undid him entirely — mischief masking itself behind such a sweet smile like you know exactly what you were doing to him. “is that so?”
satoru kept his hands on your hips, walking you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed and you had no choice but to sit, leaning back on your hands as he towered over you, a thick air of tension suddenly filling the room while his eyes bore into yours.
“if i’m being honest, i actually liked it,” you confessed, watching the way his lips twitched into a wider smirk. just thinking about it all made your stomach pool with heat. the way his big hands held you down…how easily he had overpowered you..that slightly crazed smile when you’d managed to land a punch on him earlier…
he didn’t miss the way your thighs shifted together in an attempt to relieve that familiar ache between them, his cock twitching in his pants at the knowledge that you’d enjoyed (and were most definitely turned on by) him pinning you down. that you liked his strength. naturally it went to his head. both of them
seeing you like this — cheeks slightly flushed from just the memory alone, both of you still a little hot from earlier, and your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him — he couldn’t hold back anymore, pushing you onto the bed properly while he began lifting his shirt off, throwing it somewhere across the room. “liked it, huh?” his voice was half growl, half teasing lilt, but his eyes were intense, a sign he wasn’t just joking around anymore. the boner he was sporting further affirmed that, brushing against your thigh when he leaned in to press hungry kisses to your jaw, grazing you with his teeth just to hear you make those pretty noises for him.
his breath was warm against you, fingers reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra so he could feel every inch of you. he lived for the way you whimpered when his lips wrapped around one of your already pebbled nipples, groaning at the salty taste of your skin. if anything it turned him on more. “toru…” your body arched up into his without thinking, breathy and needy.
“what is it baby? what do you need, hm?” he released your nipple just to meet those eyes of yours staring down at him with raw want. “want it rough…please?”
and god, how could he say no to a request like that? especially after finding out how much you’d like it earlier when he got a little rough with you. without giving you any form of a warning, he flipped your over onto your stomach, manhandling you so that you were in a prone position with just your ass lifted up a little for him. a gasp left your lips when he tugged your skirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him so he could see your panties, along with the clear wet patch you’d left on them.
“you sure you can take it?” satoru jeered, a final sort of warning so you couldn’t say you didn’t know what you were getting into asking for this. at your desperate nod he reached for the waistband of those black panties, tugging on them until they ripped off of you, making your breath hitch.
“it’s your funeral~”
and he really wasn’t joking.
you hardly knew where you were or even who you were at this point. all you knew was that his hips were ramming into you without mercy, ignoring your whines and the way you were clawing at the sheets beside you. satoru had a hand gripping your hips tightly, nails digging into the plush skin there as he held you down, making you take it while he grunted above you. his other hand was tangled in your hair, keeping your face flat against the mattress where you were already drooling.
“ah-ah, no running,” he tisked, an almost cruel lilt to his voice when he felt you squirming beneath him. he was pounding into you with a pace so relentless you could hardly form any thoughts, let alone beg him to slow down. “you wanted this didn’t you?” still, you tried to say something. a plea for…well..you didn’t really know what it was you wanted. either way it didn’t matter because the moment you tried lifting your head to talk he had shoved your face right back into the sheets, making you moan.
“fuck, you’re so filthy,” he groaned, feeling how your walls squeezed him tighter after that. your body alone told him everything. how much you were enjoying this. “you love being treated like this, don’t you? being held down and manhandled..” the broken whine you let out made his hips stutter for a moment, head tipping back with another groan because this was so fucking hot.
a loud crack filled the room as he let go of your hair to deliver a slap to your ass, an action that made you jerk slightly in surprise, even as another moan was dragged out of you at a second slap. “god, i’m gonna ruin you,” he growled, clearly getting as carried away as you were, a large hand splaying across your lower back, pulling you back against each of his thrusts.
tears began to fill your eyes from just how good, yet how overwhelming everything felt — his cock stretching you out and hitting the deepest parts of you that only he could reach. each dirty grumble of his as he made you take everything. the desperate need to cum already. “don’t cry baby,” he cooed, but you knew better than to think he was serious. “you can take it. you will.”
and something about him saying it like that, like he would make sure if it, had you mewling like a stray cat against the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric with such force he almost wished you were marking up his back with those nails instead. “gonna fill this pussy up…fuck, you want that right?”
both hands slid up your back until they reached the back of your neck, wrapping around it with just enough force to keep you pinned down and restrict some of your air flow, but nowhere near enough to really hurt. as much as he was getting off on this power play he didn’t feel like harming his wife. “you’ll take it all for me, won’t you?”
the noises you were making were sinful as you neared your orgasm, legs shaking slightly as he began to speed up his pace, groans being pulled from his throat more frequently now, and you could tell his orgasm was approaching soon too. a few more strokes was all you needed before you were crying out in pleasure, clamping down around him as you saw white. it was intense and dizzying, hitting you so suddenly and causing your whole body to jerk while satoru continued to grind into you until he found himself cumming too.
you were too tight, too warm, and with a final, deep thrust he was spilling himself inside of you. filling you up just like he said he would and leaving you lying limply against the bed as you tried to come too. you hadn’t even felt him collapse on top of you until he was peppering kisses down from the back of your neck to your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings.
you were utterly spent and probably close to passing out, but god did you love it.
꣑ৎ fighting with satoru leads to him forcing you to ride him
The last thing you wanted to do was get into an argument with your roommate and best friend. Yet you found yourself going back and forth with him & it didn’t look like it was coming to an end any time soon.
“I don’t understand how I’m not allowed to have boys over but you’re free to bring home girls, it’s totally unfair Satoru!” You yelled, voice turning raspy.
It’s been hours since this argument began and he was getting sick of it.
“The difference between us is that I didn’t invite that girl over to fuck, did I?” He shot back, a vein forming at his temple.
His hand reached up to his face, sliding off his glasses to set them aside on the counter. “I came home with her because we had a project to do and the library was closed. And you know this because I texted you earlier about it.”
“So? She was totally giving you bedroom eyes!”
“And what if she was? Doesn’t mean I gave in and started humping her like a dog in heat. I’m not that easy, sweets.”
But you were.
You were not about to give in because he used your favorite pet name, and you definitely weren’t going to allow him to see the effect it had on you.
“I don’t know why me bringing a boy over concerns you either.”
“Watch that tone.” He warned. His eyes have darkened enough to match the late night shadows seeping into the kitchen, rain being muffled by the windows. Your lip trembled, being utterly frustrated. It’s not like you even did anything with the guy, you just wanted to make him jealous – get back at him for inviting that girl over.
Satoru noticed your pout, sighing through his nose as all previous anger faded. “Baby.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” He closed in, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You love it when I use sweet names on you.”
You pulled away from his touch, still pissed. “We’re just roommates, that’s why.” That certainly got him to raise a brow, a slight tilt at his head as he took in your words. “Just roommates? Am I not your best friend? Am I not the one that makes you feel good?”
Your breath hitched, knowing what he was referring to.
You had come home stressed about some class and it didn’t help that it was ovulation week as well, making you all pent up. Thankfully, Satoru didn’t mind helping you out on the very counter he was leaning against. “What was your goal when you brought him over? To make me jealous? Get your pay back?”
Well, yes.
But you were not going to admit that so easily.
“If I hadn’t made it clear enough, sweets, you’re the only girl I want. Why would I be stupid to put my dick inside someone who isn’t you?” His vulgar words strike again at your inner core, forcing your thighs to clench.
“Satoru..” Your cheeks heated up.
“I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to answer honestly. Are we just roommates?”
Of course not. Roommates don’t just allow the other to ride them like rabbits in heat the way you were doing right now. Your clothes were discarded on the floor, shaky hands rubbing up and down his abs all while he watched.
A smirk was lifting at his lips, enjoying the way you struggled to do all of the work. He wanted to touch your tits, give them the little kisses they deserved. But hearing you beg for his touch was far better.
“Please– I said I was s-sorry..” Your apologies fell upon deaf ears. This was your punishment after all. You could barely register your own pleas as his tip grazed your puffy folds. “You’re going to ride me and I’m not going to help for shit.”
And he kept his word because he hasn’t done anything more than letting out the occasional grunt. It was genuinely pissing you off.
“Please,” You tried again, leaving sloppy but sweet kisses on his lips that he didn't reciprocate. Not even when you picked up your pace or slowed it down did he react.
Nothing was working.
Not until he saw you begin to sob, hiding your pretty face in his neck did he soften up. “Hey, hey.. It’s okay, sweet girl. I forgive you, you did so good, took your punishment like the good girl you are. Don’t cry, you’re making me feel bad.” His expression softened, large hand rubbing the small of your back as he coo’ed in your ear at your hiccups.
You sniffled, chasing your nearing orgasm now that he praised you. “Am gonna cum..” You gasped, clawing at his back. Satoru fully wrapped his arms around you, bouncing you harshly on his lap. “Go ahead.”
White dots filled your sight when you spilled on his dick, legs trembling. He followed soon after, releasing deep in you. “Good job, baby. Don’t you ever think that shit again. I don’t want anyone but you, and it’s time to realize that.”
You nodded, placing your lips on his, finally receiving the kiss you needed.
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 10.7k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, mentions of blood, overstimulation, spanking, choking, desperate gojo, oral sex (both receive), jealous reader, mentions of terrible parents, some fluff, some angst
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
chapter one chapter three
It was an undeniable fact that you were drunk on Gojo’s cock.
In the weeks since you started this arrangement, you fucked almost every day. Your excuse was that you were simply researching for your project, running experiments and proving theories wrong and right.
You were like two magnets that couldn’t resist each other despite your very different personalities and while you still couldn’t see yourself ever being anything other than possibly acquaintances, you would be lying if you said you didn’t warm up to him a smidge.
At least when he was between your legs.
“Satoru, haah, oh fuck!”
You cried as Gojo ate you like you were his last meal, his tongue lapping at your pussy in fast strokes, your back arching off your bed with his white locks gripped tight in your hands.
You hadn’t been able to keep your word and find someone more “digestable” to help satisfy your needs, you hadn’t really even tried when you had him fucking you into forgetting. Only Gojo was becoming more clingy, pestering you to go on a date with him and kissing you more than you cared to admit you enjoyed.
And while you were able to tolerate him in small doses when you weren’t fucking, your stance still stood: you and fratboys didn’t mix, Gojo was hardly the exception and that only extended to sex.
“Such a good girl.” he grumbles, plunging two fingers inside your hole while his tongue worked your clit in fast, relentless circles. You were already close, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he curled them, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
“You t-talk too much.”
Gojo laughs against your pussy, hot breath blowing on you and pushing you closer to the edge. You gasp when he sucks hard on your clit, electric shocks shooting from the tip of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, body moving up the bed when his hands grab onto your hips and pulls you back down, his face pressed against your heat as he starts sucking you faster and finger fucking you deeper.
“I’m- oh god, fuck Toru, m’gonna-” Your nails are clawing at the sheets as your orgasm ripped through you, words dissolving into a broken moan as you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers, juices dripping down his chin.
Gojo didn’t stop. He kept licking you through the aftershock until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning at you.
Fuck him. Fuck his stupid, smug face.
“Look at you.” He says while climbing over your body, still completely dressed in his football clothes, his face shining where he failed to wipe, your arousal mocking you for still sleeping with him a month later. “All glowing and satisfied, my perfect girl.”
You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you glared up at him, spreading your legs wider so he could fit between them. “I still h-hate you, asshole.”
Gojo knew you hated the nicknames he called you and yet he refused to stop. You even had to discipline him once when he called you “love”, going a few days without speaking to him though you’re still not sure if that hurt him more or you, what with your high sex drive.
“Mmm.” He presses his forehead to yours and quickly pecks your lips, his hard-on pressing against your thigh through his shorts. “Now it’s my turn.”
His mouth dropped to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave you yet another hickey you’d have to explain to your friends who were under the impression you weren’t seeing anyone since you dropped your last guy.
You barely had time to process it before he was moving his head back up and kissing you again, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You sunk into it, arms wrapping around his neck and forgetting once again about your little no kissing rule. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, before sliding down to grip your ass.
Gojo grinds his hard length into you and you moan into his mouth, your pussy clenching and begging for more.
Just as he was about to take his shirt off, a knock came from the door and made you both freeze, your eyes widening in a panic. Fuck, if anyone knew Gojo was in here you’d never hear the end of it.
"Oi!" Shoko's voice echoed through the hallway and it sent your pulse racing. "Open up! I forgot my key again!"
“Closet, now.” You practically hiss, pushing him off of you so you can stand and dress yourself. You were bouncing around the room, jumping into your pajama shorts and shoving Gojo toward the closet, your heart in your ass because the last thing you needed was your friend finding out you had been screwing her friend that you claimed to hate..
Of course, being the insufferable man that he was, Gojo simply took it as a joke and tried to kiss you as you opened the door and pushed him into the closet full of yours and Shoko’s clothes. You pushed his face away with a nasty glare, your cheeks flushed and thighs sticky with your release and his spit.
"You’re seriously gonna stuff me in a clos-"
You shoved him back and slammed the door in his face.
"Coming!" You quickly press down your shirt and smooth out your shorts and hair before moving to open the door for your roommate, praying she wouldn’t notice your messy hair and flushed cheeks and put two and two together.
Most of all you hoped Gojo would keep his fucking mouth shut. Bringing him here had been a terrible idea but he was already on campus when you texted him and you were horny now and didn't want to drive back to his place.
When you finally open the door, Shoko is standing on the other side with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows scrunched together. You smile awkwardly and pull the door further open so she can pass through.
“Sorry. Left my keys in the psych building.”
You clear your throat and smile, closing the door and following her further into the room while pretending like vomit wasn't rising in your throat and your heart wasn’t trying to escape your ribcage.
"What were you doing anyways?" Shoko asks, pushing past you with suspicion written on her face. "I was standing out there for like three minutes."
"Sorry, I was.." You paused, willing your voice to not sound so high pitched, pulling your rising shirt down. "I was in the bathroom."
It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you with the way she’s looking at you, studying your face and looking you up and down and you want to die. How embarrassing would it be to get caught with Gojo of all people after complaining about his existence since freshman year?
“Hm, you look flushed.”
“Yeah, just.. uhm- I just was working out”
Shoko rolls her eyes and starts to look around her side of the room, giving you a second to look at the closet and make sure Gojo didn't decide that he did in fact hate you after all and expose himself.
The door was still closed. At this rate you would be the one to expose yourself by panicking over nothing.
“Were you masturbating?”
Your friend's words have you snapping your head toward her, hair flying in your burning face. No Shoko, I wasn’t masturbating. My enemy just gave me a mind shattering orgasm on his tongue alone and would have done it again if you didn’t interrupt. Any more questions?
Is what you wanted to say, but instead you swallow your annoyance and stick with: ‘No, what makes you ask that?”
"Your face is basically glowing, your hair's messed up, and you took forever to open the door." Shoko shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you were, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does it. I do it. It's healthy."
Then, for a reason you’d never understand, Gojo decided that now was the best time to laugh. It was low, barely audible but loud enough to make Shoko look toward it with scrunched eyebrows.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! You were going to kill that six foot idiot. What the fuck was he thinking? You were a shaky, sweating mess when your friend turned to look at you, her eyes burning holes through your face.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
She gestures wildly with her arms and nods past you, obviously annoyed at your decision to play dumb. “The noise from the closet! Do you have someone over?”
“I-” You swallow hard, fingers digging into your nails as you try to find a way out of this.
You obviously weren’t going to tell her it was Gojo, but if you did tell her you were hiding someone then she’d never stop trying to figure out who it was. It would be a nightmare and you would have to be twenty times more careful with Gojo or cut off your arrangement before you were able to find a replacement.
Either way, you were fucked.
“Yes.” You huff out, hoping she doesn’t push further and ask who it is but before she can respond, you’re speaking again in an attempt to distract her. "How was the library? Did you finish your paper?"
Shoko stared at the closet for a few more seconds then decided it wasn't worth investigating. She, thankfully, had never really been a noisy girl and you were grateful that she was your roommate instead of Yuki who would have ripped the door open herself.
"Almost. I need another hour, but I forgot my charger and my laptop's at six percent."
When she finally left, you stomped your way to the closet and yanked it open. You were beyond seething, ears on fire from embarrassment and annoyed that you had to tell Shoko you were in fact seeing someone when you wanted this to be left in the dark.
Gojo was wedged between clothes and a shoe rack, his hair slightly disheveled, grinning like a fucking idiot. You wanted to kill him.
“That was close.” He grabs your hip and walks you backwards, trying to kiss at your neck but you’re having any of it, placing your hands at his chest and shoving.
“What?” Gojo frowns at you and gives you his best puppy eyes but it only makes you want to hit him more. You cross your arms to stop yourself, head tilted back so you can look up at him.
“It was ‘close’ because of you! I told you to be quiet and you couldn’t even do that. I should end this right here since you’re apparently a child.”
That wiped the smirk off his face and he was stepping closer, grabbing onto your arm to pull you forward and you let him this time. His hands find your waist again and rub circles on your exposed skin, your body shivering in response.
“It won’t happen again, I promise.” He lets his fingers creep under your shirt, moving higher. “Now where were we?”
“Nowhere. We’re done.”
“Oh come on. I’m literally in pain, don’t leave me with blue balls, princess.” He pulls you flush against his chest but you push back, ignoring every instinct telling you that one quickie wouldn’t hurt.
“No Gojo. I have to work in an hour. I need to shower, eat and get across campus, we’re done here. Go home and figure it out.”
He pouts but you’ve seen enough, leaving him to figure it out as you move toward the bathroom and close the door behind you. You were still pissed at him but even more mad at yourself for still wanting him to fuck you after he almost blew your cover to Shoko. You didn’t really have work today but a cold shower and time to yourself was needed.
“I’ll pay you double whatever your job would.” His voice comes from behind the door, clearly not ready to give up.
Your hand stopped above the shower knob, turning to face the door in disbelief. "What?"
"Your job, sweetheart. Whatever you'd make tonight, times it by two, or three, whatever you want. Just call out and let me stay a little longer."
"Are you serious right now?” You blink, a mix of frustration and amusement coursing through you. “I'm not a prostitute, Gojo."
He doesn’t respond for a minute and just when you think he’s gone, he opens his mouth again. "You're not. I'm just saying your time is worth something, and I'm offering to compensate you for it."
You actually laugh at that, leaning your head against the bathroom door and fighting the urge to scream. "That is literally what a prostitute is."
"Semantics, it's also what a consultant is."
You open the door, deadpanning the too tall frat president, and point to the front entrance.
"Get. Out."
Later that day Gojo was sitting at some shitty bar with his friends, trying to drown out his emotions that were determined to consume him whole.
The same thought has been nagging him for the past two weeks. It wasn’t something he admitted to anyone outside of you, but he had been thinking of leaving his fraternity. Would his father be happy? Probably not. Did Gojo care? Not anymore. He hadn’t even intended on getting into a frat until his father told him he had already signed up on his first day.
Now here he was, a senior, making his own money as an employee of his family business and desperately trying to find a way out of this without blowing up his life. He never wanted to be president but it was another thing that was expected of him so he did it with a forced smile and he never regretted anything more in his life.
Before you came along, Gojo could get any girl he wanted. He never had to work hard to get laid, never cared for relationships either until you humbled him in front of his frat brothers and he just knew he had to have you.
He tried to win your favor over the next two years but when you weren’t avoiding him, you were reminding him just how much you hate frat boys and that he wasn’t your type. So imagine his surprise when you agreed to his proposal of enemies with benefits, though he truthfully had never hated you.
Gojo was trying to be better. Hosting less parties and letting Sukuna and the others take over more, drinking only once or twice a week, focusing more on school work to impress you and even wearing his glasses more and dressing in those nerdy clothes he knew you liked.
People questioned his new sense of style, his friends grew concerned over his lack of involvement and Gojo grew more desperate with each rejection from you. He just needed one date to show you that he can be the guy you deserved, why couldn’t you see the effort he’d been putting in?
While it was obvious you didn’t hate him like you used to, he still was miles away from becoming your friend let alone your boyfriend. Most people would have taken a hint by now, but Satoru Gojo was not most people. He only grew more motivated, determined to show you that he was worthy of being loved back.
“You look miserable."
Gojo looks up from his drink to find Suguru staring at him over the rim of his drink, his dark eyes searching for answers that he wasn’t willing to give. If Gojo told anyone about your relationship, he’d be violating your trust and he was sure he’d lose you forever. He wasn’t going to do that to satisfy his friend's curiosity.
So he simply shrugs and takes another shot, trying to wipe the image of your smile from his head.
“Fuck off.” Gojo picks up a new glass and tries to take a shot but Sukuna snatches it before he can and stretches his arm to keep it away, not at all bothered by the death glare his friend gave him.
“He’s been a pussy since he caught feelings for someone he knows hates him.” He tosses it back.
What? You never said he couldn’t tell people he liked you.
“Drink piss, you overgrown carebear. She doesn’t hate me.” While he knew it wasn’t completely the truth, he let himself live in his delusions. What was the saying? Fake it until you make it. He was simply manifesting your future together.
“Maybe I should shoot my shot, she’s nice enough to me.”
Suguru’s words have Gojo instantly fuming, snapping his head in his friend's direction and wondering if his smug smile is how you view him when he’s teasing you.
“The fuck? You’d actually do that?"
Suguru simply shrugs, unfazed. "Why not? If she’s into me, then you know she’s not into you and you can move on. If she’s not? Well, then it turns out we’re both losers." He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Gojo’s face. "Might even be fun to see how desperate you get. How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?”
Gojo’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop himself from something he’d regret. Something close to: Doubt she’d even look at you when she’s too busy bouncing on my dick.
The thought of Suguru, with his stupidly perfect smile and raven hair the girls loved, making a move on you made his stomach twist. He knew his friend could pull it off. Half the girls on campus already had a crush on him and you weren’t really his girlfriend, you could do whatever you wanted.
But Gojo was never one to back down, holding Suguru’s gaze and shrugging. He would just have to work harder, spend more time with you because there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone else, let alone his childhood friend, have you.
“Why did you join a frat anyways?”
You asked Gojo, looking up from your laptop and across the table. Gojo was wearing his glasses again and you had to keep squeezing your thighs together. That’s not what you were here for. You both had decided to get in a quick study session before the first game of the season, where he'd be playing and you’d be cheering.
It’s been some weeks since you started your arrangement and in that time, you’d been fucking almost everyday and spending most nights at his place under the guise that it was easier studying wise.
“Wasn’t by choice, princess.” His jaw clenched, hand squeezing around the pencil he had been holding, knuckles turning white from the force.
You wanted to laugh at that but you had never seen Gojo show true anger before and figured now wasn’t the best time for that. You still weren’t going to let up though.
“How is that not your choice?” You shift in your chair, ignoring the way his eyes are gazing into yours so softly, even though he was clearly annoyed at your question.
Gojo sighs, dropping the pencil and sitting back in the chair, letting it spin side to side as he stares at you with a titled head. “Generations of my male family members have attended Theta Phi, my dad kinda signed me up without my knowledge.”
You frown, biting the inside of your cheek when his leg rises and he brushes his foot against the inside of your thigh. Your body buzzes with the way he laughs at your glare, reaching down to swap it away.
“How can he even do that? Couldn’t you just.. I don't know, not go?”
Gojo laughs again but it’s more bitter this time, rotten with parental issues you probably shouldn’t get into considering you had your own and discussing your personal lives wasn’t a part of your agreement.
“Now who sounds privileged?”
You give him a straight face, foot lightly kicking at him and rolling your eyes when he grins.
“I’m being serious. My mom wanted me to do gymnastics on a professional level and I had no interest so I just didn’t do it. She eventually got over it.” You shrug.
Well your mom wasn’t completely over it but that wasn’t your business. You made your own discussions and what others felt about them was on them. You’d barely talked to her since you broke the news to her freshman year and your father had died when you were a child so you really only had your sister, with the occasional birthday or holiday text from your mom.
“Not that easy in the Gojo dynasty.” He emphasizes the last word and you can tell by his sneer just how much he hates his family,
“I told him I wasn't doing it. Told him of my dream to become a physics professor and he laughed in my face and threatened to not pay my tuition if I didn’t join.”
He pauses, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
“My family is filthy rich but you don’t get anything for free. You have to prove that you're worthy of a college inheritance, a spot in the wills, and a position in the family business. My father told me if I didn’t join the frat then I’d only have a spot in the will after college. Didn’t want to graduate with loans so I played along.”
You blinked, the heart that most people claim you don’t have, suddenly aching for Gojo. You hadn’t considered that his family might be a bunch of money hoarding psychopaths but you guessed it made sense with their status.
You never had to worry about your mother paying your tuition, she couldn’t afford it anyways. You survived off of a scholarship and your own income from jobs you worked since you were sixteen. The only thing you had to do was keep your grades up and not be reckless with your money.
You were suddenly grateful to have grown up on the poorer side, because you couldn’t imagine having someone dangle money over your head. Let alone your own parents.
“Physics? Didn’t peg you as the type.” You lean forward and smile softly, elbows on the table with your hands folded in front of you.
He mimics you, eyes brightening and seeming grateful you were changing to topic.
“What? The glasses and secret nerdy clothes didn’t give me away?” His foot plays with yours and you let it, biting back a moan when you think about how his glasses fog up when he fucks you with them on, messy white hair falling in his face.
You had noticed the different physics books lying about his room but never really thought much about it. You couldn’t understand how a parent could treat their child like an investment and not an actual human. With his family money, Gojo could have been one of those students that chased their dreams instead of fortune and actually been happy.
While you still thought he was arrogant and still hated fratboys, this opened a new side of him to you. A side you could empathize with.
“Seriously though Gojo, I'm sorry your family is so shit.”
He leans an elbow on the table, placing his chin in palm and giving you the dreamiest smile, lashes brushing together when he blinks slowly. “Aw, you feel bad for me, princess?”
“No.” Your cheeks burn and you sit back in your chair. Of course he’d ruin this, you were never being nice to him again! “Merely pointing out a fact.”
He pouts and stands. “Well now I'm sad. How about you make me feel better?”
When he pulls you from your seat, you let him, heart racing because this would be the second time this week that Gojo has fucked in you in this very study room, libarians oblivious to the shenanigans the two horny college students were up to.
He grabs your chin while you place your hands on his chest, steadying yourself as he pulls you close. When he leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but he goes straight for your neck. He’s sucking and biting, and you’re hardly trying to shove him off, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your heated skin.
“We have to- mmm, we have to be quick Toru. You have a game and I have to cheer for it, remember?”
He spins you toward the table, pushing you forward and waiting for you to brace yourself. thump! thump! thump! Your heart is going a mile a minute as you dig your hands into the desk, biting your lip when he reaches forward and unbuttons your pants, slowly pulling them down to your feet.
When he rises, you can feel his breath blowing on the back of your calves.. higher to your thighs.. Just beneath your ass and he’s leaving a kiss there, fingers coming up to rub your pussy through your panties.
You suck in a sharp breath and he licks a long strip from your clit to your hole, not bothering to move the fabric.
“Did you know,” He starts, pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing, holding your leg tight to keep you still. “psychology says that the more you hate someone, the more you fixate on them and that it can turn into passion.”
You bite your lip, moving your hips back for more friction and growing annoyed when he holds you dead still, lightly tapping at your thigh as a warning. These were the only moments you’d ever bite your tongue, because while you loved to dom him, you loved for him to dominate you more.
"Do you love me yet, sweetheart?"
“Fuck you, S-satoru.”
He laughs, kissing your ass before standing up, the sound of him digging through his pockets and ripping open the condom sending chills through your body.
Gojo pushes his boxers down and slides the condom onto his cock with ease, holding onto your ass and taking a moment to breathe because the sight of you was almost too good to be true.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking soaked for me, you want me to fuck you now?”
You push your hips against him, the warmth of his girthy cock rubbing against your ass. “Fucking obviously.”
"Ask nicely." He’s back to his teasing voice and you want to rip your hair out. It’s been a day since you had sex and you needed him desperately, even if you’d never tell him that.
"Gojo." You groan, fingers burning from how hard they dug into the wooden table.
"That's not nice." He leans over your back, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. "Try again."
You grabbed his wrist and dug your nails in. "If you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm going home."
Gojo laughs out a “That’s my girl.” and kisses you quickly before pulling back up.
He moves your panties out of the way and pushes inside in one smooth motion. You gasp, spine arching when he pushes it down, pulling you further back onto his cock. He was thick, stretching you open so perfectly, your walls gripping around him possessively.
Gojo sets a brutal pace from the start, his hips slamming against your ass with each thrust. The table creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about someone hearing, but the thought was distant, drowned out by the pleasure building low in your belly.
You cover your mouth with your hand, biting down onto your palm when he wraps your hair in his fist and pulls your head back, scalp burning from the sting of it.
“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” His voice was strained, losing some of its usual cocky smoothness as lost himself in your cunt. "Acting like you’re too good for me, but your pussy tells a different story.”
You hate him, you really fucking do. You wanted to snap back at him, to say something cruel, but he angled his hips just right and hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. All that came out was a moan, loud and shameless in the quiet library.
He slows his hips just a little, yanking your body up against his. You glare at him but he doesn’t care, just grabs your jaw and squeezes until you move your hand.
“You want the entire library to know how well you take my cock?” He asks, peering down at you and you once again, find yourself drifting in his eyes, pulse skipping beats from the way he looks at you.
You can’t speak so you just shake your head no, licking your bottom lip and pushing your hips back against him. He leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and moving his hand to rub your clit.
“Then shut the fuck up, princess.”
Gojo doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond before he’s slamming his hips back into yours, cock rubbing against your gummy walls and sending you spiraling. You were so close, inner walls clenching around him, your whole body trembling with the effort of holding back, waiting for him.
“Fucking pussy squeezing the life out of me, shit, gonna cum already, princess.”
Gojo never slows his pace, your lower body bumping into the table with each brutal thrust, his hand on your clit rubbing harsh circles. Tears seep from your eyes and you don’t see it but they fall from his too and straight into your hair, his free arm wrapping around body and pulling you close.
He leans his head down to your neck, sniffing deep and inhaling in your scent, mind spinning from your pheromones and his eyes rolling back. He squeezes you tight, the sound of his erratic breathing in your ear, clouding your senses, driving you fucking insane.
You hated to admit it but you loved when he was clingly like this, taking up your space while he fucked and prasied you. You often think of how different things could have been if he wasn’t who he was.
After one hard thrust, your knees buckled and you fell forward, Gojo going down with you. Your cheek laid against the cold surface, and Gojo hovered over you, his chest against your back, his mouth next to your ear.
“You drive me crazy, fuck, just let me make you mine already. Please, baby. Give me a chance.”
You wheeze out a laugh and he shifts his angle, hitting something that made your toes curl inside your sneakers, and the laugh turned into a whimper that you muffled against your own arm.
Gojo noticed, because of course he did. He adjusted, angling his hips to hit that spot again, and again, and again, each thrust a deliberate press that made your vision blur.
He looked at you and grounded low in his throat. Your eyes were half-closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He was claiming you in body and soul and you didn’t even realize it yet. The only trick was your stubborn mind, getting you to see that you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
"Say you want this. Say you want me." He kisses you and looks you in the eyes as he fucks you, his own pleading.
You squeeze your eyes shut up, biting into your fist to keep quiet as your orgasm crept up on you.
He made a sound of annoyance and slammed into you, your teeth greeting, nails leaving marks on the table that would surely tell anyone else what happened here. The orgasm that had been building crashed into you without warning, rolling through you in waves that made your thighs shake and your breath come in short, ragged gasps.
You bit down on your own tongue to keep quiet and tasted salt and blood.
Gojo’s rhythm faltered, his grip on your hip tightening as he fucked you through it. Slower now, deeper, grinding his hips against your ass on every downstroke. You were still clenching around him when his breathing changed and his forehead dropped to your shoulder.
"Close," he huffed.
"Then finish."
He thrust three more times, balls squeezing as he groaned with each stroke, and then he buried himself deep and held still. His legs strained and shook as he drained himself inside of you, and you felt the pulse of his cock through the condom, felt the way his whole body tensed and then released.
His breath was hot and uneven against your shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment, his weight pressing you into the table, both of you breathing hard.
You let him stay like that for a minute, the heat of his chest pressed against your back and your eyes fluttering closed as you came back down to earth. Something had changed this time and you couldn’t tell what it was but you felt it deep in your soul and it scared the fuck out of you.
Just when you were about to tell him to get off, he started to slowly pull out.
You felt the warmth immediately, the wet cum against your thigh. You turned your head, looking down between your bodies, and saw it. The condom had fucking ripped at the top!
"Gojo."
He stood up and looked at you, expression going from satisfied to panicked in about half a second.
"What’s wrong?"
You point to his cock, hair matching his and sticking to your sweaty face. "That’s what’s wrong."
"Shit." He grabbed the condom off his half hard cock and held it up. It was still mostly intact, but the seal had in fact broken at the base. "Shit, I’m sorry. How much got in you?"
“Just get something I can clean myself with.” You fight the urge to curse him out, knowing it wasn’t really his fault. You trusted that Gojo was only sleeping with you and you were on birth control so that wasn’t an issue. But what exactly was the problem?
Gojo pulls his pants and boxers back, moving around the table to grab a box of tissue at one of the desks and handing you a few. He watched as you wiped between your thighs, cum leaking from your pussy and the sight has his cock twitching in his jeans. Something possessive and nasty at the thought of you leaking with his seed while Suguru tried to steal you from him.
“I’m on the pill, remember? Relax.” You notice his strained face and wrongly assume it’s because he’s having a pregnancy scare. You had no fucking idea.
When you’re both decent enough, Gojo stops you before you leave out, hand on your arm as he stares down at you. You raise a brow, eyes wandering and fighting back a smile at the sight of your strawberry lipstick on the side of his mouth. Hot.
"Suguru asked about you.”
You give a confused smile, wondering what that had to do with you. You like Suguru, you weren’t close but still friends. Why would he be asking Gojo about you? The thought made your stomach ache.
“Did he?”
Gojo looks like he’s trying to keep his annoyance in check, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Mhm, I think he likes you. Said he’s gonna try to make a move on you.”
Your frown this time, even more confused than before. Sure, you thought he was cute that one time during freshman year but you never really thought much about him outside of the very few times you hung out with the girls.
“I don't date frat boys."
"Right. You just sleep with them."
You can hear the malice in his voice and now you’re annoyed, not wanting anything to do with whatever rivalry he and Suguru had going on. You snatch your arm away from him and deadpan him, a storm quietly building in your chest.
“I sleep with you.” You correct him. “A serious lapse of judgement, not a fucking pattern. I’m not interested in your friend.”
Gojo scuffs, taking a step back with hurt in his eyes. “A lapse of judgement? That’s what we’re calling this?”
“That’s exactly what we’re calling this.” You say with more venom than you mean to, annoyed that he was accusing you of something you hadn’t even done nor had any plans to.
“Keep lying to yourself, (name). I won’t be around to watch it.”
He pushes past you and you’re left confused on what the fuck just happened.
A week goes by without you seeing each other. Gojo doesn’t call or text, so you don’t either.
You pretend that the anonymous flowers placed outside of your door aren’t from him, that the late night deliveries of beef bowls or your favorite sweets weren’t placed there by a certain 6’3 white haired frat president.
He was mad at you for something you didn’t do and while you told yourself you didn’t care, you hated the permanent knot in your stomach. You had grown used to spending most of your nights at his place, asleep in his bed and waking up to him with his arms wrapped around you.
You told yourself that you hated it, hated him, but the truth was you weren’t sure what you felt anymore.
You didn’t love Gojo but you had learned to tolerate his presence, even felt your ice cold heart melting a bit around him. You told yourself that this was simply sex, but you had unknowingly found yourself finding comfort in his presence. So having your new norm snatched away from you made you feel sick.
So what did you do? You ignored him.
You go back to using your toys to get off, even if it does nothing but leave you sexually frustrated once again. You work on your project alone and send him copies of your research notes through google drive, but that’s as far as communication between you two went.
You had never in your life begged a man to speak to you, to take you back and you weren’t going to start now. Gojo was a frat boy at the end of the day, maybe it was for the best that you cut things off.
It’s better this way.
"You look like shit," Shoko says, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bathroom with a mascara wand in one hand.
"Thanks," you muttered, not looking up from the sink.
You didn’t want to go out, would rather stay home and get ahead of school work but your friends wouldn’t hear it. They told you that you were too depressed and it was making them depressed and when you tried to argue, they literally pulled up texts to show the difference in the way you texted a week ago vs now.
You didn’t deny that you were a bit drier than usual but blamed it on school and cheer stress, what will all the games going on.
They didn’t believe it, which is why you found yourself fixing your hair and makeup, and squeezing into a body tight red dress. Girls night out at the club, dress your sluttiest! Yuki had said.
"I'm serious. Are you sick? Are you dying? Should I call someone?"
"I'm not dying, Shoko."
She sighs and looks over at you but you don’t face her. Can’t face her. "Then what's wrong with you?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You turned off the faucet and dried your hands on the towel, avoiding eye contact because Shoko had this creepy way of reading people, and right now you did not want to be fucking read.
You were going to get pissy drunk and forget that you ever agreed to that stupid arrangement in the first place.
You meet Yuki and Utahime at the club around eight, annoyed that your boobs keep spilling out of your top and the way men that were definitely married with children keep looking at you.
It was at that moment that you realized when Gojo had been leaving you covered in hickeys, no one ever batted an eye at you and now that most had faded, heads were starting to turn again.
It made you hate him more for doing this to you. Making you so fucking stupid.
The club was packed, some DJ from out of town was performing (he wouldn’t stop saying it), and the bass was already rattling in your chest before you even got to your reserved booth. Yuki ordered a round of shots as soon as you sat, and Utahime was already scanning the room for cute guys. You could feel Shoko looking but tried your best to ignore her, skin tight with an annoying wave of anxiety.
You had the sudden urge to throw up and were thankful when Yuki arrived with drinks, immediately grabbing a shot glass and tossing it back.
Utahime leaned across the table, her purple hair falling in her face as she looked at you with concerned eyes that pissed you off. Everyone was treating you like a baby when you were fine!
“Okay seriously, what’s going on? You look like you’re experiencing your first heartbreak.”
You blink, feigning innocence with a forced smile. “What do you mean?”
"You've been weird lately," Yuki added, not even trying to be subtle about it because she never gave a fuck. "Like, mopey and it’s concerning but annoying."
You roll your eyes. They’re being dramatic as usual. Just because you hadn’t been fucked in seven days didn’t mean you were mopey. Sure, your pussy literally ached every day to be fucked but that you always took care of it, even if your sex drive only grew more and more.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired from studying for midterms.”
“Look.” Shoko cuts in, taking a shot and turning to face you better. She takes your hand in yours and you fight the urge to snatch it away.
“I don’t know who that guy was, but it seemed like he really made you happy. Maybe reach out to him and try to fix things. I hate to see you down.”
You scuff, lightly pulling your hand away and tasking another shot. “There is no other guy.”
“Really? So what about when I caught you hiding a guy in the closet like two weeks ago, that was a lie?”
Your face flushed at the memory but you swallow it and hide deep in your heart, veins jumping at the image of his face.
“Whoever he is,” Yuki continues. “you should have hot make up sex or whatever. You've been down since whatever happened, and life's too short to be miserable over a boy."
"Can you all just fuck off?” You snap, anger burning hot in your chest. “Seriously. I'm not down. I'm not miserable. There's no fucking guy."
None of the girls seem convinced but they drop the topic anyways and move onto how Yuki and Choso broke up. You take this time to collect yourself, blaming your outburst on not getting laid and not because you couldn’t stop thinking about the one person you “hated” most.
That’s when you looked up and saw him. Gojo walked in the front entrance like he owned it, Sukuna and Toji on his left and Suguru to his right.
Your breath got stuck in your throat. He looked otherworldly, in a back shirt that clung tight to his chest and showed off his muscles that he usually kept hidden. His shades were covering his eyes, white hair tucked behind his ears and his jeans showed off that perfect thin waist you loved to hold onto whenever he fucked you missionary.
Your heart dripped to your stomach when you got a closer look, because on Gojo's arm was a girl you didn’t recognize.
She was pretty. Brunette, tall, wearing a bodycon dress that hugged every curve, and she was clinging to his bicep like it was a lifeline. Laughing at something he said, tilting her head in that flirty way that made you want to throw up right there.
But when you looked at Gojo, he looked miserable. His smile didn’t reach as high as you knew it could, his jaw was tight and his head kept turning to look elsewhere, as if he’d rather be anywhere but there.
"Oh, great," Utahime muttered after following your line of sight. "The frat brigade."
They came over because that’s just your fucking luck. Sukuna spotted your booth first and steered the whole group in your direction, because Sukuna had zero boundaries and loved making people uncomfortable which is why you hated him maybe even more than you hated Gojo.
"Hey, ladies," Sukuna said with a grin that was all teeth, sitting next to Shoko. "Looking hot as fuck tonight."
"Looking like a felon, as always," Your roommate replied flatly, unamused.
Suguru laughed and slid into the booth next to Yuki. Toji grabbed a chair from a nearby table and flipped it around, straddling it. And Gojo..
Gojo sits directly across from you, the brunette settling beside him, still attached to his arm. You roll your eyes.
“Hey.” He says to no one in particular, even though you can see his eyes linger on yours through his shades and you feel your heart skipping literal beats. What the fuck was that about?
You look away, reaching for another drink and looking away, fingers trembling just slightly around the glass, eyes glancing at the dance floor. Fucking get it together.
You listen as Gojo introduces the girl, not caring to catch her name and just that she’s apparently a friend of a friend. You listen as everyone says hello, and give her a silent mode and strained smile.
The conversation shifted naturally, Sukuna talking about the latest football game where they crushed the rival 4-1. You were there obviously, performed your cheer routine and pretended like Gojo wasn’t somewhere all hot and sweaty. It was a true test to your strength to not walk up to him that night.
"Gojo scored three of those goals," Suguru said, nodding to him. "Man of the match, again."
"Three goals," Toji repeated, stealing one of your shots and winking at you when you flip him off. "And he still looked like someone kicked his dog after the game."
The girl leaned into Gojo and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made him exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh but enough for your jealousy to creep to the surface.
Something hot and ugly twisting in your chest.
Fuck this! You weren't going to sit here act like some desperate whore when men literally beg at your feet for a chance to fuck you. Screw Gojo, there were plenty of fish in the sea and one was bound to match your freak.
You tossed back the shot that had been sitting in front of you, slammed the glass on the table hard enough to make everyone look at you, and stood up. You yanked down the hem of your dress and walked away without a word.
“Where are you going?”
You heard Shoko yell after you but you ignored her, venom dripping from your pores with each step. It was time to remind yourself who you were, and that wasn’t some cock drunk slut who moped over a man she hated anyways.
You pushed through the crowd until you reached the dance floor, where the music was loud enough to drown out your anger and started dancing
Your hips moved in circles, arms raised above your head, eyes closed as the music flowed through you. The bass was like a second heartbeat and you let it take you somewhere else. To a place where you didn’t have to think about Gojo and his stupid fucking face or the fact that he shows up with a girl on his arm after not texting you for a week.
You felt a guy appear behind you, his hands on your waist as he started moving with you, pulling your back against his chest. You let him even though you felt nothing. No spark, no heat, literally nothing. Just unfamiliar hands on your body and the faint smell of cologne that wasn't the one you were used to.
You were doing it on purpose, you knew that. Dancing with a stranger because you wanted Gojo to see, for him to feel even a fraction of what you felt watching that girl cling to him.
It took him about four minutes. You counted and smirked when he appeared in the crowd, leaning against a pole as he watched you with his glasses pushed up and malice in his eyes.
You lean into the guy more, letting his hands roam up your chest. Gojo smirks when he squeezes your boob, taking a sip of his drink and tilting his head.
You're breathless, annoyed that he thinks this is a joke and grabs the man’s hand roughly, guiding it down your dress further and further, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re supposed to be forgetting about.
When the stranger's hand is touching your bare thigh, Gojo breaks, passing his drink to someone and making his way through the crowd.
You hardly blink when a hand closes around your wrist and yanks away from the confused stranger with enough force that you stumble. Gojo keeps you upright even though his cheeks are clearly red from anger, glaring down at you like you insulted him.
“What the fuck are you doing? You some kind of whore now?” He leans down, voice tight and low against your ear.
You yank your arm back and take a step back, chest heaving as you squared up to him. “How fucking dare you? You're not my boyfriend, Gojo. You don't get to drag me around like I'm your property."
He stared at you, those blue eyes sharp and frustrated. "You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. Because you won't let me be!"
You're quiet for a split second, nostrils flared and fists balled at your side, heat moving up your chest to your neck.
“Can we not do this here?”
He laughs, grabbing your arm and pulling you close again, towering over you and forcing you to tilt your head back to see him.
“Why not? You were so brave a few seconds ago, let’s air our shit out right here. Don’t be embarrassed now, it’s beneath you.”
"You have a new fuck buddy now," you say, crossing your arms and purposely pushing your boobs up. "So I don't see why any of this is your problem."
"She's not my fuck buddy. My friends set it up because they think I need to move on from you." He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up. "Sukuna literally said I've been unbearable to live with since we stopped talking."
"Boo hoo." You lack any sympathy considering he’s the one that walked out on you. Fuck. Him.
"Will you stop being a bitch for five seconds?"
"Excuse me?"
He steps closer, evading your space to the point that you only smell him and his fuck ass cologne, nose greedily breathing it in. “You heard me.”
“You’re not my boyfriend because you’re not my type! Now fuck off and let me forget anything ever happened between us.”
He laughed but it was hollow, lacking any true emotions. “But I’m your type when I’m inside of you.”
Your face is a fucking furance, especially when you realize others are looking. Your mouth opens and closes, searching for some witty response but your mind draws a blink. This was humiliating. How did you go from a secret situationship to publicly yelling at each other because you were jealous of the other giving someone else attention?
Your life was a fucking mess.
“Fuck you Gojo.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks and it’s hateful and lust, making your nipples harden underneath your bra.
Without thinking, you grab his shirt and pull his mouth against yours, kissing him hard enough that your teeth clack. It was angry and messy, and you bit his lower lip until he hissed, and his hands were on your hips and then your ass, pulling your chest flat against his.
His tongue sweeps into your mouth as you moan and shamelessly grind against his leg, his hands guiding your hips back and forth. The music is blasting, your mind is on a different planet and you don’t notice the way your friends are looking from the booth in pure shock.
When you gain some common sense and remember where you are, you pull away and look at Gojo with glassy eyes, relishing in the way his lips are red from your kisses.
“Wanna fuck Toru?”
When he nods yes, you're dragging him by his hand through the crowd and into the men's bathroom.
There’s no words needed when the door closes, so you drop to your knees and start unblocking his belt and unzipping his pants. Gojo is clearly flustered, but helps you pull his pants and boxers down with shaking hands.
He watches you with one hand braced on the wall and the other moving to grab your hair, lips parted as he breathed heavily.
You stroke him a few times, thumb rubbing over the red tip and spreading the pre before taking him into your mouth without warning. Gojo curses under his breath, hips jerking forward, and you wrap one hand around the base while you work the rest with your tongue.
This was your first time going down on Gojo but no one would know with the way you easily take him, swallowing his cock until it’s down your throat.
You’re sloppy about it, letting salvia drip down your chin and onto your exposed chest, sucking his cock like a pornstar, your mouth making obscene wet noises. You suck hard, looking up at him through wet eyelashes and watching his face contort, jaw clenched and eyes dark.
“Fuck,” He breathed, hands tightening in your hair and guiding you to suck faster. “Just like that.”
You took him deeper, relaxing your throat and letting him control your movements. His hips start to move, slow thrust that make him hit the back of your throat and your eyes water. When you moan around he shudders and reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek.
"You're so good at this," he said, voice rough. "You're so good at pretending you don't want me, but look at you. My little cock obsessed slut."
You pull back just enough to run your tongue along the underside, from base to tip, and smirk when he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper. You take him back in, bobbing your head in a rhythm that matches the muffled bass from the club.
“Haah, fuck!” You could feel him getting close, the way his thighs tensed, the way his breathing turned ragged.
"Wait, princess, fuck, I'm gonna-"
You don’t pull off. When he cums, you swallow all of it, throat working at his cock as he shoots hot ropes of thick cum into your mouth. His groan is wrecked, a raw sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fist slams against the wall as his knees threaten to buckle. You held him there, mouth sealed tight around him, until the last tremor faded and he was just a gasping, trembling mess.
Then you let him slip free, wipe the spit and salt from your lips with the back of your hand, and tilt your face up to meet his stunned, glassy stare. If you knew how hot his moans were when getting his dick sucked, you would have done this sooner.
“Wanna get out here?”
When you made it to Gojo’s place, you both wrestled each other’s clothes off and didn’t make it to his room before he was inside of you. He took you on the couch two times and once in the kitchen, bent over the sink as he fucked you hard and deep.
Now you were laid on your back on his bed, watching as he reached for another condom. Before you could stop yourself, you let your heart lead for once and called his name to stop him.
“No condom this time.”
He freezes, looking back down at the latex and back at you. “What?”
“Wanna feel you this time Toru, please?”
And he broke, tossing it and climbing back over your body and kissing from your tits back up to your face, stopping to lick inside of your mouth, his hard cock pressing against your entrance. He pauses, looking down at you with his white hair falling to the sides of his face, all sweaty from your previous sessions.
“Say it again.”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pull him back down and nipping at his lip. “I want you Satoru, wanna feel you raw.”
He gives a shaky breath and without wasting any more time, pushes into you slowly, stopping every inch to savor your warmth around him. Feeling him bare inside of you made you gasp and claw at his shoulders, the new sensation of his pulsing cock making you feel lucid.
He groaned against your neck, stilling once he was fully seated, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he fought the urge to bust a fat fucking nut.
"You feel so good," he said, voice cracking. "Fuck, you feel-"
"Move," you whisper, scratching down his back.
He started slowly, rolling his hips in deep, deliberate thrusts that hit every nerve ending you had. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moaned your name against your collarbone.
This was different from every other time. Before, it had been fast and rough and detached on your end, two people using each other to blow off steam. This was something else entirely. He was looking at you, really looking at you, and there was so much emotion in his eyes that you felt tears prick at your own.
He licks them away, both hands reaching down to grab onto your ass so he can pound you harder.. faster, so fucking deep. He moves faster, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies naturally finding a rhythm that has your heart lurching.
The pressure built inside you and when that coil snapped and you came for the fourth time, you came hard, back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry, clenching around him so tightly that he followed you over the edge with a groan that sounded like your name.
“Fuck-, I love you, sweetheart. Fucking love you so much.”
He buried himself deep, groaning loud and squeezing your ass hard enough to leave a print. His hips moved in circles as he emptied himself and you felt it, the warmth of him spilling into you, no barrier, nothing between you, and it was so intimate that you felt tears slip again.
You let him hold you that night even though you don’t hold him back, mind stuck on the fact that Gojo loves you and now your relationship would never be the same.
You woke up first that day and deeply regret it.
The morning light was creeping in and your body was sore enough that you almost regretted riding him two more times after, letting him stuff you full until his balls were empty. Gojo was still asleep beside you, one arm thrown over his face, white hair a mess on the pillow. You slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on one of his oversized soccer jerseys that fell to your mid-thigh, and padded barefoot into the hallway.
You were snooping, just trying to use the bathroom when you noticed one of his draws were still open and a bunch of polaroids were spilling out. You told yourself you were just going to fix them so they wouldn’t get destroyed.
You pulled the draw open, heart lurching when the first one you saw was a photo of you. What the fuck..
It was from sophomore year, the one time you went bowling with your friends and had been forced to interact with Gojo. He had been taking photos but you never thought about it. It wasn’t creepy, just an off guard photo of you laughing at something and it made you sick.
You started digging through the rest, ears burning when you found a few more of you off guard, some of you with the girls that he took. You looked so happy in all of them, Gojo’s photography style making it look like you were the center of his world.
Your fingers trembled as you flipped through the polaroids, each one a moment you barely remembered. He'd seen you. Really seen you. And you spent two years hating him because he wore Greek letters on his chest and you built your whole personality around hating everything that stood for.
Your throat aches, eyes burn. You press your palm flat against the sink to steady yourself, knees weak and blood running cold.
When you grabbed a few photos and turned to confront him, Gojo was standing in the doorway. He was shirtless, sleep still in his eyes, and he looked from your face to the open drawer with an expression that could only be described as pure panic.
"How long?" You ask, holding up the photos. "Satoru, how long have you been taking pictures of me?"
❦ lisa's note: messy af tbh! one more part to go, lemme know what ya think :')
︵ ೀ mdni. so the rumors are true, frat boy!satoru really is stupidly big
you swear you’d never end up here.
you swear on your GPA, your future, and your last remaining brain cell that you would never hook up with a frat boy. never. especially not satoru gojo.
yet here you are, in his messy room that looks like the last time he did laundry was during the obama administration, staring at six-foot-four of naked, insanely sculpted frat boy while he stands there like a proud exhibit at the penis museum.
his body is ridiculous. broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, every muscle carved from years of whatever sports he plays when he isn’t throwing ragers. pale skin that somehow still looks sun-kissed across his chest and shoulders, faint tan lines from sleeveless practice jerseys. a happy trail of soft white hair leads down from his abs—abs you could spend hours running your tongue over—straight to the main event.
and god… the main event.
thick, heavy, and already flushed dark at the tip, it curves slightly upward with an intimidating girth that makes your stomach flip. it bobs as he shifts his weight, veins standing out along the shaft.
“that,” you say, “is never gonna fit.”
satoru’s snowy white hair falls messily over his forehead as he grins, those bright blue eyes sparkling. “nah, it’ll fit. i’ll make it fit.” he wraps a large hand around himself, giving one slow stroke that makes your mouth go dry. “trust me.”
“it’s not gonna fit. this thing is massive. like… i’m actually concerned for my internal organs.”
“uhm. thanks?” he looks stupidly pleased, a faint blush creeping up his neck. the cocky frat boy actually blushes at the compliment. it is almost endearing.
almost.
he climbs onto the bed and up close he smells exactly like you imagine—expensive cologne, faint beer, and warm skin. his body is hot against yours as he settles between your thighs, muscular arms on either side of your head.
when he leans down to kiss you, it is surprisingly soft at first and then hungry, tongue teasing yours while one big hand slides down your side to squeeze your hip.
you gasp when his fingers find you already slick. he groans low in his throat. “fuck, you’re so wet for me already…”
two long fingers press in, stretching you carefully, and something tells you he knows exactly how big he is because he takes his time, watching your face with hooded eyes, murmuring praise against your neck.
“that’s it… relax for me, pretty girl.”
by the time he lines himself up, you are trembling with nerves and want. he pushes forward—slow, so slow. the blunt, thick head presses against your entrance, hot and heavy. you feel every inch of that first stretch, the burn of it making you whimper.
“is it in already?” you breathe after a few seconds.
satoru lets out a strangled laugh, forehead dropping to yours. “it’s only the tip, baby.”
“only the tip?!” you are going to die. you are so going to die. the pressure is already insane—full, overwhelming, deliciously too much. you can feel the heat of him, the slight throb, the way your body tries so hard to adjust around him.
he pushes forward another inch and you both moan. sweat beads on his forehead, sliding down his temples. his abs tighten with every shallow thrust, that white happy trail brushing against your stomach.
“shit—you’re so tight,” he hisses. “feels so fucking good… but i don’t wanna hurt you.”
you grip at his biceps, nails digging into hard muscle. “you’re huge, satoru. has anyone ever told you that?”
“yeah. you—like five times already.”
“because i feel like i’m being split open by a damn baseball bat!”
he chokes on a laugh, hips stuttering. the movement pushes him a little deeper and your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming fullness. every tiny shift sends sparks through you—the drag of his thickness, the way he fills you so completely it feels like he is touching places no one ever has.
“stop making me laugh,” he whines, but he is grinning. “you’re gonna make me slip and then we’ll both be in trouble.”
“slip?! if you slip any more we’re gonna have to call an ambulance.”
“god, i like you. this is the least sexy sex i’ve ever had and i’m having the best time.”
another clumsy, careful thrust. he bottoms out halfway and has to pause, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours. his cock twitches inside you, so hot and heavy you whimper. one of his hands slides down to rub slow circles over your clit, trying to help you relax while his body stays tense with restraint.
“you’re doing so good. taking me so pretty… look at you.”
you are equal parts mortified and insanely turned on. this is the clumsiest, most awkward sex you have ever had—full of giggles and curses and satoru’s muttered coaching (“easy, big guy, she’s tiny”)—and somehow it is perfect.
he kisses you again, messy and sweet, then rocks forward once more. “still regret coming home with me?” he teases, lips brushing your ear.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him just a little deeper, and laugh breathlessly. “ask me again when you’re actually all the way in, gojo.”
I’m thinking about nanami who has a not so secret crush professional interest in gojo’s wife (fem!reader). nsfw 18+ drabble. mlist
──── ୨୧ ────
On Nanami’s birthday he enjoys the celebration and praise from everyone, but there’s one little thing nagging at the back of his mind through all the cakes and badly wrapped tie pins. He doesn’t say anything, but your presence is pointedly missing, and that tiny fact is enough to dampen his spirits despite the jovial atmosphere. He’s a little grumpy by the end of the day as a result, more so by the way Gojo seems to be hell bent on clinging to him. After one too maybe bear hugs he finally makes a remark, a snide little comment about how he much prefers Gojo’s “other half”. Gojo just grins that same shit-eating grin as usual, but his grip on Nanami’s shoulder is tight when he chirps in reply “let’s go see her then, right now!”.
Nanami barely has the chance to open his mouth before he’s engulfed in a sizzle of energy. Gojo’s hand still firmly clasped over his shoulder, he finds himself standing in an unfamiliar bedroom, and when his vision finally focuses he chokes at the sight that greets him. It’s you, blindfolded, splayed over crisp white sheets and wrapped up like a gift. Each bare limb is glittering, bound expertly in an intricate banding of yellow ribbon - his favourite colour. He hadn’t had a favourite colour before, not until he’d seen you waltz in one morning donning a yellow sundress, looking like a beam of sunlight personified. He sees you in the daisies that pepper the footpath, the warmth of a summer day, the sand beneath his feet on the beachside, and now in the restraints lacing each of your oiled limbs like a bow atop a gift he’s been pining after for years - and it’s all just too much.
He’s speechless, unable to even lift a finger to argue when Gojo guides him into a chair directly across from where you’re perched on the bed, giving him a stellar view of just how far gone you already are. Nanami is dizzy, tenfold when his eyes roam down and he notices the little red light blinking between your spread thighs, tucked beneath a pair of pale blue panties already soaked through and glistening a little with the vibration.
Gojo’s smile has settled into a sharp line, and his voice is low and cutting when he leans down to purr into Nanami’s ear, his hands massaging either tense shoulder. “You wanted to fuck my wife, right? Well take it all in Nanamin, this is the closest you’re ever gonna get.”
ა ˙˖ in which → fratjo gets jealous seeing you talk to another guy and decides to teach you a lesson
ა ˙˖ content: 1.7k wc, semi public sex, car sex, breeding, spanking, gojo is a possessive freak, fingering, quickie, very little plot
Gojo had never felt jealously or insecurity until this very moment, his jaw clenched tightly as he watched you laugh at something some guy said.
He had been waiting for you outside of the STEM building, window down, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel while he played some ad infested game when he heard your laugh.
His head snapped up so fast that his brain spun.
It was the sweetest thing he ever heard until his tongue went sour when he saw you pushing your glasses up and batting your eyes at some scrawny kid in a physics club t-shirt.
The guys hands were flailing and you were nodding, eyes bright with genuine interest. A hot, tight knot of jealousy twisted in Gojo’s gut.
What the fuck? That laugh was reserved for him specifically, so why were you sharing it with someone else?
His hand tightened around the steering wheel. Was this your true type? A guy who could talk string theory and some other shit he couldn't understand instead of shotgunning beers?
Fuck that.
He was out the car and walking up to you in less than a minute, envy seeping with every step. He didn't say a word as he got closer. He just slid a possessive arm around your waist, his large hand splaying flat on your stomach, pulling you back against his chest.
He felt you jump, then relax as you recognized his scent.
"Gojo." You breathed, sinking into his grip.
He ignored you, his gaze fixed on the other guy. “Party’s over, buddy. She’s got a study session with me.”
Gojo's tone was pure ice and without even saying goodbye, your friend scurried away with wide eyes and sweaty palms.
You turn in his arms, a small frown on your face. "That was rude. We were only talking about-"
His blood pumps hotter at the sight of you. You were dressed in your usual black Mary Jane shoes, knee high socks, a skirt and a brown cardigan that kept slipping off your shoulders and revealing that thin top underneath. The 𝓖 necklace he got you sitting pretty against your skin.
Gojo doesn't respond. It was meant to be rude and he wouldn't be apologizing for it. Instead he leans down and presses his lips hungrily against yours, moving to grab a handful of your ass and pulling you against his hardening cock.
You pull away first in an attempt to catch your breath, looking up at him with those puppy eyes that always made his knees pathetically weak.
"You okay?" You blink shyly, titling your head to this side and it sends his heart racing.
"Get in the car."
"What? Are you mad at-"
"Get in the fucking car (name)."
Gojo pulled into the empty lot behind the old gymnasium, a spot nobody used anymore. He killed the engine and turned to you, his cheeks a little red.
“You think I didn’t see you? Laughing at his jokes. Looking at him like he’s your fucking soulmate.” His voice was low, rough.
You scrunch your eyebrows, looking at him like he was an idiot and it only made him madder and his dick harder. Even when he was upset with you he still found you insanely attractive.
Your entire relationship was an anomaly. No one expected the infamous frat boy Satoru Gojo to end up completely whipped over a nerd with glasses almost too big to fit and her face always buried in a book.
But it happened and he would be damned if he let someone else steal you from him.
"It wasn't like that! He just-"
“I’m going to teach you a lesson so you remember exactly who you belong to.” He interrupts, unbuckling his seatbelt and yours then pressing the side button until his seat was pushed all the way back, his long legs stretching.
Your breath hitched, thighs pressing together and the sight only served to make Gojo spiral even more.
"Come sit on my lap, sweet girl."
You don't hesitate, tossing your bag to your feet and climbing over the console until both of your thighs are on either side of him and your pussy is pressing against the print of his hard cock.
The windows were tinted dark. Nobody could see. Nobody would know.
"You talk to him about chemistry?"
He twists your necklace before he starts to unbutton your cardigan, fingers brushing against your skin. You're too stupefied to talk as he pushes the fabric off your shoulders, his hand sneaking under your t-shirt to unsnap your bra and pull it off.
"Let's talk about biology instead."
He pushes your shirt up and lowers his mouth to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You toss your head back and let out a loud moan, fingers finding his hair to hold onto and gripping tight.
"You're s-so needy when you get j-jealous." You whimper, grinding against his jeans, skirt rising up your hips, body shivering when he bit down gently.
"Hmm, you like that?" He pulls back, his lips wet as he smirks at you.
You nod shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling deeper onto his lap.
He slid his hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher until he found the damp heat between your legs. Your panties were soaked and he grins, an annoyingly cocky grin that made you want to slap him and ride him at the same time.
“This f'me? Or were you thinking about his big brain?” He pressed two fingers against your clit through the thin fabric, rubbing slow circles.
“You!” You gasp, chest heaving. “Always you. He’s nothing—ah!”
He shoved your panties aside and pushed two fingers inside your dripping cunt, curling them just right. Your hips bucked as you cried out, and he used his other hand to pin you down.
“Say it again.”
“You, Gojo. Only you.”
“That’s my good girl.” He finger fucks you hard, the wet sound obscene in the quiet car, your juices dripping down his fingers while kisses you to shut you up.
The way your pussy was clenching around Gojo's fingers had him leaking pre and staining his boxers. He felt like he was going to burst if he didn't fuck you soon.
He can feel you shaking, getting closer but before you can cum, he's pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, ignoring the shocked look on your face. His tongue swirls around his fingers, licking them clean and pulling off with a pop.
"Lift your hips."
When he smacks the side of your ass, you yelp but do as he says, lifting high enough for him to unzip his jeans and pull them down with his boxers.
He strokes his hard cock once, twice, watching you watch him and it has his own cheeks heating. Your glasses were crooked, lips swollen and red from his kisses and his self control snapped.
He didn’t tease, growing annoyed again when an image pops up of you smiling at that fucking loser. He grips your hip with one hand and uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. He uses his cock to push your panties aside and with one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt.
"Satoru! Oh fuuck."
Gojo gives you a minute to adjust to his size, hand rubbing up and down your spine in a soothing manner while you whine against his neck. Slowly, he lifts your hips, teeth grinding from the grip your pussy has on his cock, and slams you back down.
He loves the way you're crying out and it only motivates him to go faster, his own hips rising to meet yours. Fuck, you were so wet and warm and he had to actively fight back his moans.
He knows you love when he's vocal but right now he was punishing you, so he bit his lip and fucked you harder.
"Who do you belong to?” he asked again, his voice cracking when you clench around him.
"Y-you. I'm sorry Toru, I'll n-never talk to him again."
He chuckles, pulling your mouth down to his and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your lipgloss tastes like strawberries, so sweet he can't help but nibble on it a little.
"Such an obedient girl." He fucks you faster, his abdomen wet and sticky with your arousal, your ass smacking against his thighs whenever your bodies meet.
When Gojo presses his thumb against your clit and flicks it, the knot in your stomach tightens harder, twisting as you get closer to your high.
"Haaah, m'gonna cum Toru!"
He doesn't stop, just grunts and rubs you faster until you're spilling over the edge, body glitching as you buck wildy against him, head dropping to his neck as your orgasm rocks your world.
Your breath is hot against Gojo's neck and his balls swell before he's busting a fat nut inside of you, hot ropes of gooey cum painting your walls in his DNA.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Despite his best efforts he can't stop the groans that escape his lips, deep and long, his hands squeezing your thighs as he twitches and empties himself inside of you.
Gojo's hips stutter as he pushes the last of his orgasm out, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you tight. Maybe you should keep talking to other guys so he can relive this moment over and over.
You grunt when his cock slips out, his cum instantly oozing out but he uses two fingers to rub at your clit, moving to your hole and pushing it back inside. He keeps them snug in your cunt, cocking jumping back to life as he uses his other hand to pull your lips to his.
The kiss is filthy, his tongue swirling against yours as you swap spit. His stomach flutters when you grind against his hand, his nerdy little slut.
When Gojo pulls back, he fixes your glasses and lifts your hips again, lining his once again, hard cock back up with your entrance and slowly pulling you down.
"Now what did we learn?" He asks once he's buried deep, his balls pushing against your ass.
"T-that, huuhh, that I shouldn't laugh at other g-guys jokes."
He kisses you again before pushing his seat back until he was almost laying down, his hands holding onto your waist.
"Atta girl. Now ride me until I tell you to stop."
❦ lisa's note: thanks for this request, it was fun to write! can you tell I love car sex? anyways something quick while I work on the arrangement ♡
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 12.3k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, spit play, overstimulation, spanking, choking, desperate gojo, you really hate him so not much fluff this chapter! probably more I can't name rn. it's a lot.
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
When you first got your acceptance letter to your dream school three years ago, you never thought it would end up with you in this position. The side of your face pressed into the cold wooden desk by the hand of your enemy, your shorts and panties dropped to your ankles, his cock slamming into you so hard that your research papers and pens go flying to the library floor.
The sound of the legs creaking fill the study room room, his pace ruthless, long fingers digging into your cheek to keep you down as you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out his name and begging him to go harder.
One might wonder how you, the notorious frat hater, ended up letting a playboy like Gojo Satoru get into your pants not once, not twice, but eight times in the last two weeks after swearing he was your number one enemy.
It all started the first day of uni when you let your roommate Shoko convince you into going to a sorority party after a long day of classes and reading syllabuses.
You had been minding your own business, laying on your too small bed with your headphones blaring music as you scrolled through Instagram and pretended like your mom hadn’t been trying to call you for the past twenty minutes.
She was probably calling to check in since she thought you were just getting out of practice, given that you lied about making the gymnastics team to get her off your back. You never even signed up, never had interest in it but had been forced into it as a child. Your mother always told you that one day you’d make it to the olympics and while you were good at it, you had no plans on doing such a thing.
So when her name pops up again, you hit the red button and put your phone on dnd. It was nine, you would just tell her you were asleep.
When you went to play your music again, your roommate walks in and immediately locks eyes with you, a grin spreading on her face that has you squinting suspiciously.
You really liked Shoko. You officially met two weeks ago when you were finally allowed to start moving your stuff in and you had both bonded surprisingly quick over the short period of time, spending almost every day together exploring the campus and surrounding city. Which means you were starting to differentiate between her smiles and the one she wore now told you she wanted to ask you something.
“Thank god you’re still up!” She practically skips into the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
You sigh and sit up, removing an earbud. You pull your rising shorts down and cross your arms with a raised brow. She moved to stand in front of your bed, biting her bottom lip and failing to contain her excitement.
“Spit it out already.”
“There’s a sorority party in an hour and I got invited which means by extension you’re invited and puhleasee, don’t make me go by myself!”
You tried everything to get out of going, from feigning illness to lying that you had to be up early tomorrow for class even though you both basically had the same schedule and your morning was lecture free.
You weren’t a boring person, you partied a lot in high school but this was college and even though you had no clue what you wanted to major in yet, this was where you truly needed to lock in and focus on getting good grades.
Unfortunately for you, Shoko wasn’t having any of it. For every excuse you came up with, she had an argument against it. You don’t wanna be hungover? Fine, just don’t drink! You’re tired? You’re only nineteen, you can rest when you’re dead!
“When your kids ask what you were like in college, are you gonna tell them that you were a loser who sat in her dorm all day or that you were young, hot, and knew how to have fun?”
She had a point. It was just one party, what harm was there in enjoying yourself for a night? If you didn’t like it, you would simply leave. Plus it was at a sorority. You could manage that, though you couldn’t say the same for frats.
You’d die before being caught in one of those.
Fraternities were the embodiment of hell, nothing good ever happened at any of them based on the horror stories your older sister told you while helping you pack for uni. Sweaty, packed rooms, obnoxious men that only wanted to get in your pants, stale beer and hazing were far from your kind of parties.
Fate, as it would turn out, had different plans in store for you.
You had begrudgingly squeezed into a tight dress, letting Shoko fix your hair and makeup before she was dragging you out the door and into her car.
When you guys pulled up outside of the sorority house, the scene before you was far from what a typical party looked like. The lights were mostly off except for a few rooms that were still lit and it was eerily quiet outside, no loud music or drunk college students dancing around the lawn.
Shoko had assured you that it wouldn’t be as hectic as a frat party would but you hadn't expected it to be deader than your social life. You turn and glare at your friend in the driver's seat who looks just as confused as you do.
What the fuck was this? You could have been in bed, doom scrolling through TikTok and here you were, dressed up for a party that apparently wasn’t even happening.
“I’ll go check, give me a minute.” Shoko mummers, hitting her vape before jogging up to the front door.
Your leg anxiously bounces up and down while you wait, watching as she knocks and someone with purple hair opens the door a few seconds later. You can’t hear anything but the conversation seems heated and brief before your roommate is stomping back to the car, annoyance evident on her face.
“The party is canceled. Someone got the flu and the entire sorority is sick.”
You fight to hide your smile, not wanting to rub it in Shoko's face since she was already upset. As much as it sucks that someone was sick, you couldn’t deny that you were happy. You didn’t want to go out in the first place and now you could-
“Buut.” Shoko sings, eyes twinkling as she looks at you with that same smile from earlier.
“There is another party happening like ten minutes away.”
“Great.”
It was far from fucking great when you pulled up in front of what was obviously a fraternity. The white house was big enough that it was basically a mansion, it had a flag with greek letters flying and the amount of people out front alone made you sick, the music loud enough that you heard it from the opposite side of the street.
You hadn’t signed up for this, you wanted no parts in it.
“Absouletly not. Take me back.”
“Stop.” Shoko’s eyes were pleading, her bottom lip poking out. “We’re already here and you promised you’d be my wingman. Wingwoman. Whatever.”
“I didn't promise shit. You said we’d be going to a sorority party, not a frat!” Your cheeks heated in irrational anger, even though you knew it wasn’t her fault.
She had no idea how much you despised fraternities but it didn’t mean you’d be going to one just because she was putting on her best puppy face, big brown eyes shining and silently begging for you to say yes.
“One hour. If you still hate it, we leave. But you’re already here, might as well give it a chance.”
You look back toward the house, your stomach twisting and heart racing a little faster. You weighed the pros and cons. If you did agree to go, you'd probably end up drinking more than you should and wake up with a nasty hangover. You’d also be breaking your promise to yourself and your sister to never step foot in a fraternity.
Maybe it was unfair that you let a handful of horror stories shape your perception of them but it wasn’t as if they came from nowhere. You had watched the news, seen the headlines. Hazing. Alcohol poisoning. Freshmen being pressured into doing things they probably never wanted to do.
Your older sister had made sure you knew exactly what kind of places to avoid when you left for college, and frat houses had been at the very top of her list.
But then again, you had waited for this moment since you got your acceptance letter. To meet new people, make new memories outside of your shitty hometown and to truly experience college life.
You were nineteen. What was the harm in going to one party? You’d appease Shoko, confirm your thoughts that frats were terrible and never step foot in one again.
One night couldn’t ruin your entire college experience. Right?
You sighed and let Shoko pull your hand until you were walking through the front door and the smell of stale booze, and musky body heat hit you, the music rattling the speakers. The living room had been stripped of anything breakable and replaced with white folding tables sticky with spilled drinks and red solo cups.
A group of guys were playing beer pong, shouting as the ball flew too far and rolled under a couch. Further into the house, a girl was setting up a karaoke machine and slurring the lyrics to the Pitbull song that was playing, almost tumbling off the table.
The scene made you itch, your feet already hurting from the heels you’d been forced to wear. You let Shoko guide you through the crowd anyways, scowling at the way a few shirtless guys eyed you like you were nothing more than a piece of candy. She led you toward the kitchen, hand wrapped tight around yours, where a group had gathered around the island counter.
A tall guy with long black hair tied back noticed you first, grinning at Shoko and holy fuck he was hot.
“Shoko, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He raises his red solo cup in the air. “And you bought a friend.”
“This is my roommate, (name).” Shoko tugs you forward until you’re standing by her side. “Be nice to her, will you? She’s already planning my funeral for bringing her here.”
He nods at you, tossing back the rest of his drink and your knees go weak because he had to be one of the hottest guys you’d ever seen in your life.
“Geto Suguru but you can call me Suguru. Any friend of Shoko’s is a friend of mine.” He sticks his hand out and you wipe yours on your dress before reaching over the island and taking his into yours.
“Nice to meet you.” You force a shaky smile, pulling your hand back.
When you ask how they know each other, Suguru explains that they went to high school together but Shoko had decided to take a gap year and travel the country.
Shoko introduces you to the rest of her friend group. There was Choso, a guy with two ponytails and a scar across his nose. His girlfriend, Yuki, was nice enough even though you were sure she was flirting with you. Nanami, who seemed entirely too sweet to be there and next to him was the human incarnation of a golden retriever, Haibara.
After introductions were over, they pulled you into a game of flip cup and you were surprisingly good at it. The satisfaction of slamming your cup down before Choso was enough to make you forget where you were, cheap booze loosening you up and allowing you to truly enjoy yourself. Even if some asshole kept bumping into your ass and forgetting to apologize.
You even let Shoko and Yuki drag you to do karaoke, stupidly singing Promiscuous and moving your hips in circles, hair loose and falling into your flushed face. You hadn’t noticed the way Suguru watched you with a smirk, arms crossed while someone whispered something in his ear.
It only took an hour for you to be reminded that frats were in fact the root of all evil, your short lived fantasy that maybe you were wrong crashing down when he decided to show up.
You felt him before you saw him, your skin tingling as you sat on the couch and nursed a headache while actively fighting the urge to throw up, half listening to the group's conversation. You had just been about to tap Shoko and invoke your one-hour rule when the energy in the room shifted. The sea of people were parting to make way for someone, a few petrified freshmen scrambling to get out of the way.
When enough people cleared, two of the most unique looking men you’d ever seen came into view.
Now let’s get one thing straight: you were far from a pick me, never had been and you never would be. However, even you weren’t immune to the rare moment of being so mesmerized by the beauty of a man that you just stare with your mouth slightly agape.
One of them had pink hair and tattoos covering his face and massive arms. He was kind of scary looking but in the hottest way possible. It was a shame he already had someone on his arm. Then there was the guy next to him, with a backwards hat that white hair slipped out of and eyes so blue they looked fake.
Your brain short-circuited for exactly half a second. Fuck. He was in fact the hottest man you’d ever seen, forget what you said earlier. Objectively. Scientifically, whatever. It wasn’t even a matter of opinion, just facts.
He was lean and tall with the face of a god, a pointy nose and full lips and you had to squeeze your thighs together when he looked in your direction, though his eyes weren’t on you.
Shoko notices you staring and smirks. “Oh right. I forgot you haven’t met Gojo yet!”
“What?” You finally blink, glaring at your friend. “I wasn’t-”
“Satoru!” Shoko waved him over. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”
Gojo locked eyes with her and smiled, leaning to whisper something to the man he had walked in with and handing him the case of beer he was carrying before moving toward the couch you were currently gripping.
He was even more handsome up close, the smell of his cinnamon cologne cutting through the stench of sweaty bodies and alcohol. It was too bad he had to open his mouth and ruin everything.
“Shoko.” His voice vibrates through you more than the music does, and it makes you feel pathetic. Since when have you ever let a man affect you like this? “Making new friends already?”
“This is my roommate,” Shoko says, gesturing toward you and tells him your name. “Play nice.”
When he turned those big blue eyes on you, your breath got caught in your throat, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Well hello there. I’m Satoru, sophomore and president of this fine establishment.”
Sophomore and president of an entire frat? You didn’t want to think of what kind of douchebag he had to have been to pull that off. You reluctantly shake his hand and pull it away faster than you did Suguru’s, your mouth growing sour.
“You’re a quiet one.” He plops down on the couch between you and Shoko and you feel your irritation growing, your headache picking back up, mood completely ruined just from a few words. “It’s the hair, right? Or the eyes? Most people say the eyes. I get it, I’m a lot to process.”
He throws an arm on the couch behind you, leaning back and spreading his legs just wide enough to piss you the fuck off. Fuck this guy!
“Wow,” You say flatly, moving from under his arm and turning to face him. “Do you practice being insufferable, or does it just come naturally?”
Shoko snorts into her cup while Suguru who had been sitting next to her lets out a “oh shit” under his breath. This was his and Satoru’s second year here and he had never heard anyone snap at his friend.
Gojo’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew as he leaned into your space. “Naturally. It’s a gift, but I’m sensing some hostility, sweetheart. Are you not enjoying yourself? I’m sure I can show you a better time upstairs.”
You wanted to throttle him. So this is what your sister was trying to warn you about? What a fucking idiot you were to doubt her for even a second.
“I’d rather eat glass then let you touch me.”
He simply laughs at that, moving a little closer and forcing you to awkwardly lean back, heat creeping up your neck and to your ears. He was close enough to kiss you and you were about to smack him until he smiled and moved to stand up.
“Nice to meet you, freshman. Maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He disappears into the crowd and you want the floor to swallow you whole. You try to stay for the sake of your friend but each passing minute proves why you’d never show your face at these parties again.
People were passing out from how drunk they were, someone had almost thrown up on your shoes and to top it all off, loud cheers were sounding from the backyard. You were about to tell Shoko it was time to go when she started running toward the back door to see what was going on and you reluctantly followed.
The sight made your blood boil. Standing side by side was Gojo and the pink haired guy from earlier who you’d learn was Sukuna. There was a third guy with them, tall with broad shoulders, dark messy hair and a scar on his lip.
A line of freshmen boys stood at the edge of the pool, each looking paler than the last. Sukuna was barking out orders and you watched in horror as they began to take off their shirts and then their shoes and pants.
People were laughing, clapping and yelling for them to take off their underwear. You glared at the guy who said that, but he just shrugged and turned back to the show. Several phones appeared in the air despite Gojo’s threats that anyone caught recording would have them smashed.
This was so fucking sick.
The poor guys looked like they wanted the ground to swallow them whole and just when you moved to put an end to this, an arm reached out to stop you. You snapped your head up, ready to lay into the person until a familiar set of dark eyes stared down at you.
Suguru.
“Get off of me.” You say through gritted teeth, pure anger making your heart beat faster and your blood pump harder.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” He warns you and you suddenly hate him as much as his prick of a friend, snatching away from him and turning back to the scene unfolding.
Without an ounce of sympathy, Gojo clapped his hands together and nodded to the freshmen, his shorts hanging loose on his hips.
"No need to be nervous. We've all got the same equipment!”
"If you're too embarrassed to strip," The scarred lip dude shouts over the cheering crowd. "you're probably too soft to wear our letters anyway."
A little motivating glare from Sukuna who looked even less interested in preserving anyone's dignity and they were stripping off the remainder of their clothes. You stared in absolute disbelief as the first pledge squeezed his eyes shut, signaled something that looked like a prayer and canonballed into the pool completely naked.
One by one the others followed and you started to push through the crowd of students, ignoring Shoko yelling your name and evading Suguru’s attempt to grab you again.
Any microscopic chance you'd had of warming up to fraternities evaporated on the spot. These people were insane, fucking psychopaths and deserved a taste of their own medicine.
By the time you reached the pool, the pledges were climbing out of the water, shivering and red-faced as older fraternity members tossed towels in their direction. They looked humiliated, their smiles not fooling you for a second.
“Hey asshole!” You shout toward the white haired douchebag, storming up to him and gaining the attention of the crowd who started to quiet down to listen to the spectacle you were creating.
Good. Let them watch!
Gojo, who had been in the middle of laughing at something Sukuna said, looked at you and the grin spreading across his face only further annoyed you. He was so fucking hot but his personality sucked!
“Couch girl!”
You ignore him, walking until you were close enough to stick your arm out and push his chest. He hardly moved but it was enough to knock that stupid smug smirk off his face for a split second before the corner of his mouth was lifting again.
"What kind of pathetic excuse for leadership is this?" You gestured toward the soaking pledges who did their best to cover themselves with their small towels as they exchanged nervous glances. "Making them strip in front of half the campus because you think it's funny?"
“It was voluntary.” Sukuna spat, folding his arms and scowling at you, but you kept your eyes on Gojo who steps a little close to you.
“Oh please. Do you really expect me to believe a bunch of freshmen are gonna tell the people deciding if they get into this fraternity or not, ‘no’?”
When someone in the crowd yelled that you had a point, Sukuna shot them a glare from the deepest pits of hell that had them shutting up and cowering back into the crowd.
Meanwhile Gojo looked thoroughly entertained, that bastard. Not a hint of embarrassment on his face as he reaches forward and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. His carefree attitude catches you off guard and you’re dumb founded, losing yourself in his big blue eyes before snapping out of it and pushing him away again.
“You’ve known me for what..” He pulls his hand away and looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Two hours and you’re already lecturing me? We're basically an old married couple already.”
Your eye twitches. You hadn’t really thought of how he would react but amusement was the furthest thing you’d expect from someone getting scolded like an insolent child.
You take a step back, not missing the way he eyes your body and your skin crawls.
“Fuck you dude! I wouldn’t let someone like you touch me with a ten foot pole, let alone let you marry me.”
He tilts his head as the crowd snickers and you grow impossibly hotter. You can feel Shoko pulling your arm but your feet are glued to the ground. It would take an act of god to get you to move before you were done saying what you had to say.
“Aww don’t be shy now. You’re making me feel self conscious too.”
The words get under your skin more than you should have let them and the look on his face, the slight glint in his eyes tells you that he knows it. Before you can rip into him, the scarred lip dude butts in, pushing between the two of you.
“Cute." He rolls his eyes. "Now either kiss or kill each other somewhere else. We've got pledges to traumatize."
You glare over his shoulder at Gojo one more time, seething at the way he winks at you, clearly finding this entire thing entertaining, before letting Shoko pull you away this time. If you saw him fifty years down the line it would still be too soon!
You had to get an uber since you and Shoko were both too tipsy to drive and you outright declined Suguru’s offer to drop you off, having had your fix of frat boys for the next century.
You rested your temple against the cool glass of the car window, nursing the dull ache forming behind your eyes while your stomach churned from the cheap vodka and lingering irritation.
Gojo Satoru.
Just thinking of his name made your jaw tighten.
He wasn't the first arrogant person you’d met. You’d known plenty in high school, cocky guys who were captains of some team or were blessed with a nice jawline and thought the world revolved around them.
Gojo surpassed all of them.
He wasn’t just cocky, but the kind of person that took everything as a joke, constantly performing and acting as if everyone around him was just a part of one big act. And the worst part about it, the part you refused to let yourself think of for more than a second because fuck that, was that he had no business looking the way he did.
It was almost offensive that someone as infuriating as him had a face that made you want to forget every sin he committed.
You would just have to try your best to stay far away from him, steer clear of frat houses, frat parties, and anywhere someone like him might possibly show up.
Later that night you and Shoko are both wide awake, laying in the dark listening to the faint sounds of the occasional car or ambulance flying by. You’re still fuming, your earlier encounter making it hard for you to find sleep.
“Hey Sho?”
“Yes?”
“If you ever invite me to anything that asshole is at again, I’ll kill you both.”
“Noted.”
That was the day you grew to hate Satoru Gojo and the day he fell in love with you.
Now here you were. Your junior year came faster than you thought it would.
In the time since you started at Jujutsu University, you joined the cheer team, made the dean’s list multiple times and built a tight knit friend group that consisted of you, Shoko, Utahime, Yuki and occasionally Suguru.
Best of all, you had mostly stuck to your promise and kept away from Gojo, with the exception of a few incidents during your sophomore year when he had decided that you would be his new target of interest. It didn’t matter that you made your disdain for him clear, he never really gave up on his desperate attempts to win you over.
One of the most memorable times was when you picked up Shoko from an invite only party and he answered the door. He was grinning, telling you that he knew you couldn’t resist him and lifting his black shades to his head, blue eyes flashing.
"This is my favorite plot twist so far."
You bit your tongue and rolled your eyes, telling him you were here for Shoko only but nothing you said would get through that massive inflated head of his.
“You were invited by the way. Why didn't you come?” He actually frowns and you fight the urge to pinch yourself because he genuinely looks like a kicked puppy and you hate the way it tugs on your heart for a split second before you remember who you’re talking to.
“Because your last party fucking sucked.”
His ticking jaw and flared nostrils were your only signs that you had finally gotten to him before he was covering it up, licking his lips and looking down at your glossed ones with a grin.
“Oh so you’re one of those girls.” He clicks his tongue, giving a dramatic shake of his head.
“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, chest already growing tight with irritation. This was supposed to be a quick pick up and somehow you ended up stuck talking to the one person you wanted to avoid.
“You know.. a judgmental stuck up bitch.”
You had smiled, pride swelling in your chest because yes.. that’s exactly what you were and you hoped that now he’d take a fucking hint and leave you alone. If you were a little meaner maybe you’d scare him away for good.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“You’re so evil.” He leans against the door frame, lowering his shades back to his face. “It’s hot, you’re just my type of girl, sweets.”
The first week of your junior year had gone great, you hadn’t seen Gojo once which was a blessing in disguise since as you would later find out, you were both majoring in psychology. Your first day of cheer practice was coming up, you and Shoko were still sharing a dorm in your third year, your professors were all amazing and you managed to score an interview for a research internship next summer.
Everything had been going in your favor.
It felt like you were on top of the world until the white haired devil himself walked into the lecture hall, dressed in a snapback, faded jeans and a football jersey. He looked out of place. Suguru was by his side as they looked for a seat and your heart was pounding as you snapped your head forward so fast it was painful, not wanting him to feel you staring.
You sunk into your seat and dipped your head.
No, no, no! What the fuck was he doing here? Did he get lost? There was no way someone like Satoru Gojo would actually be taking a psychology class without being forced into it. Suguru, maybe. Satoru? He belonged in someone's business class, maybe engineering.
There was simply no universe in which he voluntarily enrolled in social psychology.
But it didn’t matter what you thought, because he was here and you could hear him getting closer to you, his voice sending sparks down your spine. Just when you thought you were going to get lucky, the sound of a chair scraping beside you made your stomach flip.
Painfully, you turned your head just as Gojo plopped down onto the seat to your right, his cologne invading your senses. Suguru apologized as he squeezed into the thin space to slip past you, taking the seat to your left.
What a genius you were, picking a spot with two free seats on either side of you.
Fantastic. Now you were trapped and Gojo only nodded at you when you glared at him, clearly fighting a smile as he leaned back in his seat as if he’d won a battle in this silent war you’d been in for two years.
This was fine. You’d just ignore him like you always did. He thrived off of attention, so you would simply deprive him of it.
Easy enough right? That’s what you thought until he opened his mouth and you remembered just how easily he got under your skin. How good he was at provoking a reaction out of you and it didn’t help that he looked hot as fuck with his skin slightly tanned from summer break, arms and chest a little bigger.
“Would you look at that? Looks like we’re classmates now, princess.”
You tried to ignore him, really you did but whenever he was around you simply lost all sense of rationality, ten brain cells dying with every word that came out of his mouth.
“Don’t call me that.” You keep your eyes forward, trying to listen to the professor who was going over what you’d be covering this week.
“Noted, princess.”
Surprisingly, you make it through most of class without Gojo bothering you. He only looks your way once but quickly turns his head when you catch him eyeing your exposed legs and pull your skirt down, his cheek dusted a light pink.
You ignore the way you feel your ears burning from the attention, a desperate ache growing between your legs.
"Before anyone gets too comfortable, I should let you know this course revolves around a semester-long research project."
A collective groan ripples through the lecture hall but your professor smiles anyways.
"You'll be working in pairs. By the end of the semester, you'll present a research-backed analysis of interpersonal attraction and the psychological mechanisms that influence it. This isn't a project you can throw together the night before. You'll be meeting with your partner regularly throughout the term."
Partners? Fuck!
You were a smart girl, always had been but working in groups had never been your strong suit. You were hyper independent and hated relying on others to carry their weight, especially when they hardly ever did. You either ended up doing all the work yourself or none of it, there was no in between.
"To avoid everyone choosing their friends, I've paired you using a wheel spinner."
A projector illuminated the screen behind her and names began appearing in two neat columns. You leaned forward, quickly scanning for your name and when you found it, you read it again.
And again, and again until you were shaking your head no and clenching your fists.
Gojo, Satoru — [Full Name]
"...You've got to be kidding me." The words come out louder than you meant for them to, your professor looking at you with a raised brow.
“I’m afraid there will be no changes. If anyone is unsatisfied with their partner you’re welcome to make your case after class but I'm afraid my decision is final unless you are at risk of being harmed.”
Did your emotional well being count? This was disastrous, a catastrophic fuck up and you would in fact take her up on her offer and be having a word with your professor once everyone left. You’d get on your knees and beg if you had to.
Gojo’s lightly laughed beside you and you snap your head toward him with the meanest glare you can muster, eyes burning with fury.
“What could possibly be funny?”
He shrugs, biting his bottom lip and staring at your strawberry gloss covered one, not giving a fuck that you could see him checking you out. You squeeze your thighs, annoyed at the way your body was reacting to his attention, betraying you in a way that was unforgivable.
“Guess fate ships us.”
Cheer practice hadn’t gone any better. As it turned out, Gojo had joined the football team and watching him run around all sweaty with his hair sticking to his head, kicking a ball in his blue uniform, was bad for someone trying to nail down their newest routine.
The cheer gym was delayed on its remodeling and the auxiliary gym had been in use so the only free space was the football field, hence your current situation.
It was hot, and you kept fucking up your stunts, eyes lazer focused on the field, instantly finding a set of white hair whenever you got tossed in the air. He hadn’t been looking at you, instead focusing on winning the mock game between teammates.
Yet he was still a nuisance even when he wasn’t trying to be and it didn’t help that you were still fired up from your conversation with your professor from earlier. When you begged to swap places with someone else, she had told you that ‘i don’t get along with fratboys’ wasn’t a legitimate reason to switch partners and that the project was worth fifty percent of your grade so you’d better find common ground fast.
Another thing nagging at you? You had only gotten laid a handful of times in the last year. Discovering you had an abnormally high libido after losing your virginity at the end of freshman year had been rough. Every guy you tried to build something with either couldn’t last more than two rounds before tapping out or wanted something more.
You weren’t looking for a relationship, just someone to help you get off once or twice a day. Your vibrators could only do so much. You craved the real thing, but struggled to find someone who could meet your needs.
"Focus!" Your captain's voice snapped you back to reality.
You blinked, realizing you had been staring at Gojo as he power kicked the ball into the net from halfway across the field, kicking dirt up. It was hot as fuck and irritated you at the same time.
“Sorry.”
You shake your head, stepping into position and letting your bases lock their grips around your ankles before they launch you upward. The familiar rush of adrenaline hits as soon as your body lifts into the air, muscle memory taking over as you balance yourself.
You should have been focused on your counts, on the people responsible for catching you if something went wrong. What did you do instead? You let your eyes wander until they found him again, heart lurching when you saw that he was already staring at you.
He waved and even from a distance you could tell he was smirking at you, ball in his hand as he pointed at the net and lowered it back to the ground. He moved his head from side to side, looking at you one last time before kicking the ball so hard that it almost took the goalie out, slamming into the back of the net.
Your cheeks burned, the ache from earlier returning.
You were completely unaware that you were one second away from falling because your brain apparently thought watching him was more important than not breaking your neck. Stupid girl.
“Eyes up!” Your captain's voice rang through the air and you forced your gaze down, correcting your posture before your bases caught you as you landed safely.
When your feet hit the ground you exhale sharply, slightly stumbling. Gojo had gone back to playing, as if he hadn’t almost killed you by distracting you.
“Are you alright? You’ve been out of it this entire time-”
“I’m fine! Let’s go again.”
You weren’t fine. You had just discovered that your brain was your biggest enemy, betraying you with a sudden attraction to your nemesis. That psychology degree was going to be very useful, now that you needed to diagnose why Satoru had become your biggest distraction.
Remember when I said, one might wonder how you of all people ended up with Gojo between your legs? Well here’s the straw that broke your back.
With the way your day had been going, you weren’t really surprised when your shift had gone to shit within the first thirty minutes. You hadn’t even changed out of your cheer uniform and were grateful your manager was nice about it and only made you put on an apron.
You were a baker at a small shop, and while you usually only iced pastries and baked bread, the cashier had called out so you were forced to cover both positions.
After ringing up the nastiest group of teenagers, you accidentally burned an entire rack of focaccia bread and your finger in the process. Your manager was understanding and thankfully had been able to find someone to cover your shift. You weren’t happy about missing out on money but at least you could lay in your bed and relax after the shit day you had. Right?
Wrong!
Usually when Shoko has company, she texts you beforehand to let you know, so imagine your surprise when you walk into your dorm and you’re scarred for life with the sight of a random’s man ass as he fucks your friend into the mattress.
The worst part is that they don’t even notice you! No one jumps up in shock and rushes to cover themselves. They continue to fuck like animals, as if you weren’t standing in the hall in shock.
After a few seconds you realize you should probably leave, jealousy coursing through you as you slam the door and storm from the building. Even Shoko, who never showed romantic or sexual interest in anyone, was getting laid while you were barely getting by with your toys.
Fine. If you weren't going to get some rest, you could at least be productive.
The library was the perfect place to study, especially at this time of night. Most people were partying, working or if they were Shoko, getting fucked in their dorms. Libraries didn't contain drunk assholes, frat presidents trying to flirt with you or rude customers screaming at you over something you couldn’t control. It was calm. Quiet.
And closed..
You stared at the locked doors, legs aching from the walk you just took to get here, thumb still hurting from earlier. You slowly walk to the locked doors, shrugging your cheer bag over your shoulder and checking the sign posted on the front door.
CLOSED DUE TO SHORT STAFFING
The universe was working against you, repaying you for some sin you committed in a past life and deciding you weren’t even allowed one small win today. And to make matters worse, you were still in your cheer uniform and it was getting chilly out.
You blamed Gojo. All of your issues started the moment he walked into that fucking lecture hall and decided to sit next to you. You were completely distracted after that which led to a shit cheer practice, a thirty minute shift and a burnt finger, and walking in on your best friend getting fucked.
You could kill him right now and not feel an ounce of remorse, even if you logically knew it wasn’t really his fault. You had to blame someone.
You read the sign again, as if it would magically change and the library would open. It was closed and you were fucked. Simple.
Based on the rare times Shoko did bring someone to your room, it lasted a few hours but you were always at work so it had never been a problem until today.
"Unbelievable." You dropped your head back with a groan, tightening your grip on your bag and staring into the dark sky. Of course the one night you needed somewhere quiet to hide, the universe decided to laugh in your face.
You kick lightly at the pavement, annoyed at yourself more than anyone else. If you hadn’t cut off the last guy you had been sleeping with just because he tried to invite you to a frat party, maybe you’d also be getting fucked right now.
It was your own fault really. You were too stubborn for your own good, your mother would tell you. “No one will want to put up with your high demands.” as if you hadn’t gotten that trait from her. That was fine. You didn’t need anything more from a man than sex, but no one had been able to match your high drive.
“I just need…” You look at the door again, tugging the handle just in case someone had forgotten to take down the sign.
Locked.
“God dammit!”
A laugh sounded from behind you and you froze, knowing exactly who it was without even turning around. Apparently the universe hadn't finished ruining your night yet. Yay, you.
“Rough night?”
You ball your fists and take a deep breath, counting to three and fighting back tears of frustration. When you turned around, you took in a sharp breath at the sight in front of you.
Gojo was holding a textbook under his arm and wearing a brown cardigan with a blue shirt underneath, light beige pants and were those..
He was wearing glasses. Not shades but bulky glasses that made him look kinda nerdy and the sight had the hair on your arms standings and your pupils expanding. He looked like a completely different person but you could tell it was him from the signature smirk he wore.
He stares at you with a titled head and you swallow the spit forming in your mouth. You weren’t seriously thirsty over Gojo right now, right? I mean, you knew you were sex deprived but he was everything you stood against so why were you staring at him like he was the best thing to walk the earth since Jesus himself?
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to study. Crazy concept, right?”
Your hand tightens around the handle of your bag, eyes drifting back to the textbook he was holding, though that was far from what you were staring at. Since when did Gojo have such huge hands and why were you attracted to his veins protruding as he grips the book?
“For you, yeah.”
“Ouch.” He laughs, soft and gentle and the sound has your pussy clenching against nothing. No fucking way was your body betraying you right now. You had never in your life clenched at a laugh, nor grown wet at the sight of someone and yet it was happening no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
Gojo hadn’t even touched you, nor made any kind of sexual joke like he typically would and yet you were acting like a cat in heat.
“You really think so little of me? I’m kind of heartbroken.”
Yes. But you don’t say it, just look back at the dark building in defeat. Gojo notices and looks over your shoulder, his own sagging as he mumbles something you can’t understand.
“That’s unfortunate. You need somewhere to study, sweets? We can go to my place.”
You’re turning to him so fast your head spins, shoulders stiff as you prepare to lay into him but he beats you before you can even open your mouth, hands come up defensively.
“Not at the frat, I only live there part time. I have an apartment off campus, and a desk we can use.”
He waits for you to say something before giving up and sighing in exhaustion. You could tell he was annoyed but you didn’t care. If he was going to try to get you back to his place, he’d have to try a little harder than whatever this was.
“We should probably study together anyways right? You know, since we’re partners now..”
You should have said no, told him to fuck off but he did have a point. The library was closed, your roommate was otherwise occupied, and the faster you and Gojo finished your project, the sooner you’d never have to see each other again.
"One hour."
His grin appeared immediately as he held his free hand out to you. "Knew you couldn't resist me."
You scuff and move past him, getting into the passenger seat and making sure you glared out the window the entire ride there.
Gojo didn’t live far, no more than twenty minutes away from campus and you were grateful. Being in an enclosed space with him was hard enough, especially since the entire thing smelled of that cinnamon cologne that drove you crazy.
He tried to talk to you. About football practice, the assignment, the terrible song on the radio, anything to hear your voice but you were dead set on ignoring him, answering in low grunts and one word responses.
“The uniform is hot by the way. Had no idea you were a cheerleader, but I can’t say I mind watching you while I practice. The next time you want my attention though, just ask. No need to risk cracking your head open just to look at me.”
You’re insulted, face burning but you won’t feed into this petty spat he clearly wants to have. In the two years you’ve known him and the times you had to suffer his presence, you came to learn that everything he said was to get a reaction out of you.
Not this time.
“Gojo?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Shut up.”
Gojo’s apartment smelled like expensive air freshener and a faint trace of weed he swore he didn’t smoke anymore and it was from Sukuna and Suguru who had been over earlier. You ignored him, dropping your bag on the living room floor and looking around.
It was nice. Not spotless but cleaner than you thought it would be. Most of the furniture, you noticed, was black. His couch, the tables and chairs, even the curtains.
A stack of textbooks sat on his coffee table alongside a half-empty sports drink and what looked like a few polaroids. You move to get a better look but before you can really see anything, Gojo brushes past you and snatches them.
“Tsk, nosey girl.” He clicks his tongue and moves toward the kitchen. “Do you want anything?”
An hour later, you’re full off the takeout food Gojo got delivered and knee deep in your studies. You try to ignore the fact that the desk you’re sitting at is in his fucking bedroom but if he wasn’t overreacting to it then you weren’t going to either.
The last thing you needed right now was for Gojo to get distracted. He had actually been focusing on the project, refraining from making any crude comments or staring at your breast though you’d caught him looking at your bare legs once.
"Interpersonal attraction refers to the positive feeling one person forms toward another,'" You were sitting together at his desk as he read aloud from the textbook while you took notes. "'Researchers generally agree attraction develops through a combination of biological, cognitive, behavioral, and environmental factors.'"
You typed the definition into your outline while he skimmed farther down.
"'Repeated exposure to an individual tends to increase positive feelings toward them, even in the absence of meaningful interaction.'"
You don’t miss the way he lets his shoulder bump into yours, body moving an inch closer to yours. You have to squeeze your legs and bite back the moan creeping up your throat. He was still wearing the glasses, claiming his contacts were drying his eyes and that you would have known he wore them if you spent more than five minutes around him without ripping his head off.
You clear your throat and lean your body the opposite way. "The mere exposure effect."
"Mhmm. Which basically means people annoy each other until they fall in love."
Your fingers paused over the keyboard, slightly shaking as you look over at him. He was already staring, having moved closer to you again. The desk was big enough to hold both your laptops but small enough that you still invaded each other's space, his trick of turning his chair to face you doing nothing now that his knees brushed against the side of your thigh.
He was reaching a hand out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and you didn’t stop him, didn’t yell at him to fuck off. You just sat there, breathless, mind trying to process what was happening as he frowned at your lip tucked between your teeth.
"That’s not what it says." You whisper and he leans in closer, the corner of his mouth tugging in a small smile, eyes soft behind his glasses.
Gojo had been a thorn in your side since freshman year. He was everything you hated: arrogant, a fratboy, rich nepo baby, and a massive fuckboy that played with girls' hearts like they were toys meant for his entertainment.
But he was also infuriatingly smart when he bothered to try, and right now, he was watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle and your pussy grow wet.
“Sure, whatever my princess says.” His voice is sultry and low as he reaches a hand out again to rubs his thumb on your lower lip, pulling it out before letting go.
You swallow hard, butterflies fluttering in your belly. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re tense.” He lets his hand travel to your shoulder, slow enough so that you could pull away, and when you don’t, he continues tracing your exposed collarbone, toying with the v-neck of your top.
“You’ve hated me for three years. That takes a lot of passion, ever wonder why you care so much?”
You opened your mouth to yell at him, to defend yourself against what he was implying because you had plenty of reasons to hate him but couldn’t think of any at this moment. Your brain was short circuiting and it was humiliating.
“I don’t care.” You manage to spit out.
Gojo’s eyes darkened, his grin fading. “Liar.”
His other hand slid up your thigh, creeping under your skirt and still, you didn't move away. Instead you decided to embarrass yourself even further and spread your legs to give him easier access.
“The chapter says physical attraction can override rational judgment. Maybe that’s what’s happening here. You claim I'm an asshole but you’re still sitting in my room, letting me touch you.”
“I’m-, oh!” You cry when he hovers over your clothed cunt, barely touching it and you’re bucking against him for more. So pathetic, so stupid. “I’m merely analyzing the s-subject matter.”
“Yeah, princess? Let’s put that theory to the test. I’ll keep touching you..” He turns your chair toward him, ignoring the way you gasp and glare at him for the loss of contact. He pulls it closer, the legs scrapping against the floorboard.
“And we’ll see if your rational judgment kicks in.”
He taps your thigh and you lift your hips as he pulls your panties down and tosses them over his shoulder. He’s spreading your legs again, further this time and he doesn’t waste a moment. His fingers are rubbing against your slit and you toss your head onto the back of the chair, hips shaking as you whine into his hand.
Gojo moved to kneel in front of you, his middle finger slipping between your folds and nudging at your entrance. When you looked down at him, entire body on fire, he was staring up at you as if looking for your approval.
Obviously grinding against him like a desperate whore wasn’t enough. No, Gojo wanted to hear you, to humiliate you and mock you for all the shit you had given him just to let him finger you when you should have been working on your project.
“Use your words or I'll stop.” He goes to pull his fingers away and your heart lurches.
The last thing you wanted was to beg him of all people but you were too far gone to not get something out of this. So you swallow your pride and nod.
“Keep going, you fucking jerk.”
He chuckles and grabs your thighs, placing them both over his shoulders. “I’m about to eat your pussy and you still can’t be nice to me.”
You don’t respond and he’s pushing his middle and index fingers through your neglected hole, not giving you any time to adjust before leaning down and taking your clit in his mouth.
“Satoru!” You cry out his name and the sound of coming from your lips has him groaning against you and closing his eyes to savor it.
You reach a hang out to grab his hair, looking down and clenching around his fingers because the way he has his head under your skirt is so fucking hot you think you might cum on the spot. He was so hungry for you that he didn’t even properly undress you, greedy man that he was.
His fingers curl inside of you, pumping a little faster as he licks up and down your slit, stopping to suck on your clit each time he passes it. When you try to close your legs, he grabs your thigh with his free hand and pulls it further open.
“Mmff, shtay righ' there.” He mumbles against your pussy, wrapping his lips back around your clit and sucking hard, using his teeth to lightly nibble and you’re leaking so much you can feel it dripping down your thighs.
This wasn’t the kind of research you had been expecting to do but you would accept it just this once, for the sake of your grade of course. This is also the longest he’s ever been quiet in your presence and if you had known that he was such a good pussy eater you would have put his mouth to use long ago.
‘Haaah, go deeper, I- oh god, nggghh I need more!” You grind against his face harder, gripping his hair and pulling him closer.
He just moans encouragingly, burying his fingers knuckles deep and fucking you dumb with them. Your squishy walls contracted around his fingers and with the next curl of them, you were wrapping your legs around his head and cumming so hard that your vision turned white, orgasm stealing your sight while you buck wildly against his face.
You were making a huge mess but Gojo didn’t seem to mind, licking you through it and only slowing his fingers when your legs dropped. He placed a kiss on your pussy before pulling from under your skirt and sucking on his fingers, looking right up at you.
His glasses were crooked, face glistening with your release and his cheeks were flushed red. Your chest heaved up and down dramatically as you fought to breathe properly again.
You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard and irritated you, made you crave more but you could never let him touch you again. This was a mistake, a serious lapse of judgement and yet you still needed more, your pussy already coming back to life.
You quickly stand and pull your skirt down, legs weak as you move around Gojo to find your panties, mortified at your own feelings right now. You just let a frat president go down on you and now you were thinking of how he would fuck you?
Clearly you weren’t in the right state of mind.
“You’re not tired of running away from me yet?” Gojo snaps, all sense of playfulness gone.
He was annoyed, you could hear it in his voice. Not that you cared but he was your ride here so you might as well appease him a little, right?
“I’m not running!” You yell, fingers digging into your palms. You were so beyond angry with yourself, disappointed that you got this far without falling into his den and now here you were. “I got what I wanted, the theory was correct but I think this study session has lasted longer than it should have.”
He looks at you in disbelief, taking his glasses off with a sigh and setting them on the desk before walking over to you, running his hand through his messy hair.
You were frozen. Every rational part of your brain screamed at you to shove him away and walk out. But your body was humming, and the way he looked at you made you want more.
He hovered over you, grabbing your chin and titling your head back so he can look you in the eyes, his other hand on your hip and playing with the waistband of your skirt.
“I can tell you haven’t been touched properly in a long time. Why do you insist on pretending like you don’t feel this pull between us, even if we hate each other?”
“You hate me?” Your lip twitches. While you can confidently say you despised him, he never gave the impression that he felt the same unless he had some sick way of showing it.
Gojo frowns and you hate how beautiful he looks. “No, never. I do want to fuck you though, so maybe we can help each other out.”
He pulls your skirt down just a little, fingers rubbing at the skin on your hip and sending a shiver through your body.
“Kind of like.. an arrangement. You can keep on hating me in public but in this room, I get to fuck you for as long as I want. Call it research for our project. Deal?”
You take a minute to think about it.
You were still seething at yourself for letting him touch. This meant nothing, you still hated him but even you had needs that needed to be met and if Gojo made you cum that hard from his fingers and tongue, you had to know what his cock could do.
“Fine, but I should warn you that I have a really high libido that most men can’t keep up with. If it’s too much I’ll just find-”
He cuts you off with a laugh, grabbing your hips and pulling you close enough that you feel his rock hard cock twitching against your stomach. He grabs the back on your neck and squeezes until you’re looking up at him again.
“You just haven’t been with a real man yet, princess. But don’t worry, I'll take real good care of you. Now take off your fucking clothes.”
You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to ask who he was talking to and at the same time, kicking yourself because you kind of liked it.
“Safe word?” He asked, unbuttoning his pants and stepping out them, his bulge huge against his white boxers, a small wet spot sitting on the front of them.
You roll your eyes and lift your shirt off, then your skirt. “We’re not children. Our safe words are stop and no.”
He nods and pulls his cardigan off and then the shirt underneath. Holy fucking sleeper build. Gojo was ripped but you’d never be able to tell under the clothes he wears. You’re taken aback by just how attractive he was, remembering the day you first saw him and how he was ten times hotter now.
Still a fratboy, still a prick but even you couldn't deny that he was one of the most stunning humans out there. Kind of otherworldly if you thought about it long enough.
“How about kissing? You cool with that, orrr?” He asks while pulling his boxers down and stepping out of them, his cock hitting his stomach and it was definitely the biggest one you’d ever seen. Thick and pulsing, pre leaking from the mushroom tip.
“Off limits. We’re strictly enemies with benefits, nothing more.”
There was no need to make this more difficult than it already was. You were beating yourself up for even being attracted to him, then to add kissing on top of that? You needed to save a shred of your dignity so you would be keeping your kisses.
“Fine, and we always use condoms. Not trying to be a dad in college like Toji. And no whining.”
You nod in agreement even though you were on birth control, snapping your bra off and tossing it, letting Gojo admire you and relishing in the way he looks like a lovestruck fool, hearts basically bursting in his eyes.
You don’t give him long, moving to climb on his bed and lay on your back. Your body was tight with need and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing, spreading your legs and playing with your pussy.
Gojo stands by the side of the bed and watches you as he reaches into the nightstand for a condom, using his teeth to rip it open and stroking it on.
You feel the bed dip first, his body climbing between yours, using his legs to nudge yours further open and then the heat of his cock pressing against your thigh.
“Fuck, you look so perfect.”
You open your eyes and if you didn’t hate him you’d say the same thing. His white hair messy on his head, the longer pieces falling into his bright blue eyes. His body was perfect, his shoulders not too broad but muscular, his waist thinner.
“Whatever, just fuck me.” You huff and in a blink he’s smacking his cock on your pussy then lining himself up with your entrance.
His heat engulfs you when he lays over your body, tapping your thigh so you wrap your leg around his waist.
He places his forehead on yours and smiles as sweetly as possible, one hand digging into the bed above your head to hold him up, the other placed on your hip.
“Ready?” He nudges your nose, gripping the sheets to stop himself from kissing you.
You bit your lip and nod, before stopping and pushing at his chest when he starts to nudge the tip in. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll ruin your life.”
He rolls his eyes, swallowing the words ‘you already have’. “Sure, now can I fuck you?”
When he pushes the first few inches in, you gasp from the sting and before you can stop him he’s leaning down and pressing his soft lips against yours to quiet you.
He squeezes your hip and with one more brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you to the hilt in one go. You cried into his mouth and he swallowed it, your back arching off the bed as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against your ass. He was almost too big, stretching you in ways that should’ve been painful but wasn’t.
He was the perfect fit, just what you had been looking for, the tip of his cock pressing deliciously against your cervix.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, pulling back to look at you before slamming into you again. And again, his hips pistoned against yours, each snap of his pelvis driving him deeper and grinding onto your clit, your toes curling from the intense pleasure.
“Satoru! Huuuh, yes, fuck me just like that!” You tighten your legs around his waist, moving your hips up to meet his.
You clawed at his back, your nails leaving red marks as he fucked you like he hated you. Like he wanted to ruin you and punish you for making him wait years to do this. And god, did you love it.
“Harder,” you gasped.
He laughed darkly, gripping your throat just enough to make your vision swim. “You want it rough, baby? S-shit! You want me to fuck you like the enemy that you are?”
“Yes Satoru! P-please.”
In a flash he was flipping you over, placing you on your hands and knees and slamming back into you before you could catch your breath. Your ass was in the air and he pushed your head down until it was flat on the mattress, his hands tight on your waist as he pounded into you, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force.
Thank god he had his own place because each thrust had the bed rocking and sent a jolt of hot pleasure through you, your pussy clench around him and making obscene wet squelching noises that only fueled his hunger for you.
Gojo picked up his pace, veiny cock rubbing against your walls and he wished he could feel your raw pussy, wanted to stuff you full of his cum but he knew better so he ignored his instinct and focused on fucking you.
The cries you let slip out are music to his ears, a song he wanted to hear every fucking day but he would settle for tonight, for now. He leans forward and fucks into you harder, hand squeezing your boob and twisting your nipples, pinching and pulling until you’re whimpering, tears pooling down your face.
“Didn’t I say no whining? Be a good girl, princess.”
You don’t hear what he’s saying, too drunk on his cock as he fucks you stupid, drool spilling from your mouth and onto the sheet. The sight has Gojo groaning, his balls tightening as he splits you open on his cock and fucks you stupid.
“Shit, look at you. All fucked out. Fucking take it baby. Take my cock like a good cum slut.”
His words have you shaking violently with your second orgasm, eyes rolled back as he fucked you through it, squirting heavy on his cock and making a beautiful mess.
“Never letting anyone fuck you again.” He pushes you further onto the bed, your stomach flat against the mattress as he grinds deep into you, completely dominating you, his hands gripping the sheets above you. “This is mine, say it’s my pussy, baby. Tell me you belong to me-fuck-haaah.”
You don’t answer but the way you’re crying for more is enough to satisfy Gojo and he’s filling the condom with white hot cum, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure rocks him, his hips twitching as he empties himself into the latex.
He gives sloppy, lazy thrusts as he rides it out, pushing deep into you one last time before pulling out and falling onto his back next to you. While you come back down to earth, he’s ripping the condom off, tying it and tossing it into the trash before reaching for another one.
Before you know it, he’s rolling it and pulling you onto his lap, lining himself up and pulling you down onto his cock while pushing up into you, fingers digging into your hips.
“Ready for round two?” He smirks when you start to move despite still trying to remember how to breathe properly.
He doesn’t stop after that, keeps fucking you until you’re on the verge of passing out, body weak and shaking but still wanting more.
“What number are we at now, four? Come on, princess. Gimme another one, I know you can do it. Gotta get to five, it’s my favorite number.”
Holy shit.. Gojo was everything you had been looking for in a sexual partner. You had been fucking for two hours now and yet he still has the energy of a man running on spite and arrogance.
It was almost comical. You were a fucking goddess, you could get anyone you wanted, any man would be lucky to have you. Yet the only one who seemed to know how to satisfy you was the one guy you couldn’t stand.
Not that any of that mattered when he had you riding his cock, again, your pussy swollen from how hard he’d been fucking you without tiring. Your clit was overstimulated but he kept rubbing it anyway, your back arching as you felt the pressure building in your belly again.
“C-can’t Toru’” You slurred, drooling dripping down your chin, your face completely wet with tears, makeup long ruined.
“I believe in you, baby.” He smacks your ass hard and then does it again just to watch the way you jump. “Look at you, taking me so well. S’proud of you babe.”
You ignore the pet name, ass on fire and too close to cumming for the fifth time to argue with him over it.His hands grip your hips, pulling you up and down on his cock. You twirled your hips, spelling your name out as you fucked him back, body aching from the intense fuck session.
It wasn’t long before you were grinding harder against Gojo’s pelvis and squirting on him again, fingers pressing into his shoulders as he fell over the edge with you. Pushing himself up and throwing his head back with a roar, legs stretching out as he pumped a thick load of cum into condom.
You move up and down as much as you can, helping him finish his orgasm before collapsing against his chest. Gojo wraps his long arms around you, cock still seated inside you as you both fight to breathe, sweaty bodies sticking together, eyes droopy with exhaustion.
What a fucking night.
You would one hundred percent be fucking him again, even if it was just until you found someone you could tolerate outside of the bedroom. As for now, Gojo was the only one that could tame the fire inside of you and fuck did you hate to admit that.
You can feel his heart beating against your own, his hand rubbing up and down spine, lips kissing the side of your head. As reality comes back to you, you freeze before pushing yourself off him and laying next to him on the bed.
You ignore the hurt look on his face.
“Wanna shower with me?” Gojo asks, sitting up and pushing his hair from his forehead, looking at you over his shoulder with cloudy eyes.
“Seperate.” You don’t even look at him. Way to flip the script on him, he was usually the one ignoring girls after getting what he wanted.
He nods and goes through his drawer before finding a pair of sweatpants to put on, the obvious bulge of his still hard cock making your pulse jump.
He goes into the bathroom connected to his room and you hear the shower turn on before he comes back out and tosses you a towel. You can tell he’s upset but you ignore it. He wasn’t your man, it wasn't your problem.
After you wash your body and your hair, you find that he’s left you a pair of shorts and a shirt on the bed. When he comes back in the room and sees you dressed in his clothes, the size of it swallowing you, his heart damn near stops and you see the way he swallows the lump in his throat.
He clears his throat and smiles at you, slowly walking toward you and your body goes cold when he places his hand on your cheek and leans down to kiss your forehead.
That was the second time he broke your rule and the second time you didn’t correct him.
“Stay. I’ll bring you home in the morning, I can take the couch.”
You nod your head ok, lost for words and he simply nods and moves past you to take his shower.
Later that night you toss and turn before giving up and laying on your back, staring at the ceiling in the nearly dark room, drumming your fingers on your stomach. You sometimes had nights where you just couldn’t sleep no matter what you did and it seems tonight was one of those nights.
You’re still sore between your legs, a reminder that you went back on your word and let Gojo fuck you. You didn’t regret, even had plans on doing it again but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with yourself. More so because you smelled just like him after using his soap.
He just knew all the right places to touch you, all the best ways to make you cum harder than you did the time before, his cock fitting so perfectly inside of you. It was a shame he had the personality of a walnut.
When you finally turn on your side to go to sleep, eyes burning from exhaustion, you feel the bed dip behind you and strong arms wrap around you.
You try to squirm out of Gojo’s grip but he tightens his arms around you, pulling you until your ass is flush against his hard cock, his chin tucked atop your head.
“Gojo.. we need to sleep, we have class tomorrow.”
“So I’m only Satoru when I fuck you? Wicked girl.” He leans down to kiss your neck and you let him, again, feeling your clit grow erect and that ache return.
“That’s your name isn’t it?” You huff out, moving your hips back against him.
He ignores you, hand going to your hip you pull you close as he grinds into you, slipping yours and his pants down. He quickly puts on a condom before pushing into you, bottoming out in one thrust, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Gonna fuck you until you only know Satoru.. You know, my favorite number is actually six.”
You may have bitten off more than you could chew.
❦ lisa's note: sorry about the pledge scene 🥲 I wanted to show how frats are and needed you to truly hate them. promise I'll make up for it!
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
⤳ warnings: this mini series will feature adult content and is not recommended to anyone under the age of 18
intro
❦ chapter one: the fuck buddy proposal
❦ chapter two: you're not my type!
❦ chapter three: the conclusion
꒰ I've already got a taglist going but you can also sign up for tags here! under others just type in: the arrangement series ꒱
clan leader!Gojo Satoru x reader
the 'elders' lay their hands on you.
...
everytime you look at his footwear, you remember the first time you ever tried cleaning them.
“Sweetheart” Gojo Satoru’s voice rolled like summer thunder, low and indulgent. “What did I say about touching those?”
You looked up, after two months of marriage, the sight of him stole your breath. his eyes, glowing softly in the daylight. The haori of the clan head rested over his broad shoulders, the fabric whispering as he crouched before you.
“I was only going to wipe the dust” you murmured, cheeks warming. “You have the elders’ meeting after breakfast, and—”
“And nothing.” His large hands, hands that had ended curses with casual flicks, gently took the cloth from you. He lifted your chin with two fingers, thumb brushing your lower lip.
“The only thing these hands should be doing is resting on my chest while I kiss you senseless.”
Before you could protest, he rose, pulling you up with him as if you weighed nothing. In one smooth motion he swept you into his arms, carrying you back inside the main house. The servants bowed and vanished around corners. they had long grown used to their lord’s open affection.
...
the elders were already gathered. You moved to serve tea, old habit, but Satoru’s hand caught yours.
“Sit” he said simply, guiding you to the cushion beside his own.
The elders’ eyes widened when he asked them to pour thier own tea. One elder, an old man with a face like weathered stone, cleared his throat.
“You should not be idle, daughter” Elder Haruto intoned, sipping his tea while his gaze flicked disapprovingly to the way Satoru lounged nearby, one hand resting possessively on your knee. “The floors must be polished. The lord’s footwear cleaned and set properly. A wife’s hands are never still, child or no.”
“Her hands will rest when I say they rest.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If the floors need polishing, the servants will handle it. As for my geta—” He glanced at the wooden sandals by the door, the ones you had never been allowed to touch, even before you were pregnant, “—I never let her near them. Why would I start now?”
“My lord… the lady is perfectly capable of light duties, tradi—”
“Tradition? now observing education for higher students is enough work for her.” Satoru cut in, voice pleasant yet edged with Infinity’s chill, “She worked herself to exhaustion at home before I wed her. I will not allow it now.” He glanced at you, eyes warm. “Besides… I like doing things for her.”
You stared at him again, long, unblinking.
The elder looked displeased, but said nothing more.
...
It happened on the third afternoon of his absence. The sky hung heavy with late spring clouds, and the air inside the main hall smelled of aged wood and incense. You were kneeling by the low table, arranging fresh white camellias and pine branches, when elder Haruto and two others entered without announcement.
“Daughter in law of the Gojo house” Haruto began, his voice like dry leaves scraping stone. His gaze flicked to your middle with clear disdain.
“Carrying the heir does not exempt you from your duties. It is a wife’s role to maintain the household’s dignity. Do not think your condition makes you special.”
Tradition bound you, as a non sorcerer brought into the clan through marriage, your place was one of service and quiet strength. Defiance against the elders could ripple through the entire household.
“But… my husband said—”
“His indulgence is temporary,” another elder cut in sharply. “The child is not yet born. Clean them, thoroughly.”
A servant boy hovered anxiously nearby, eyes wide with worry, but he dared not intervene.
...
The sliding shoji screens of the estate did not merely open, they rattled on their wooden tracks, vibrating with the sheer force of the cursed energy bleeding off Satoru as he stepped into the main pavilion.
The air in the compound always grew heavier when the clan head returned, but tonight, it felt suffocating. It tasted of ozone and impending lightning.
You were already asleep in the main room, exhausted from a day that had fractured your spirit far more than your body. Beneath the heavy, silk futon, your hand rested protectively over the slight swell of your belly, a few months along, still delicate, a fragile miracle you and Satoru had wept over in the privacy of your quarters.
Satoru shed his haori, his six eyes instantly cataloging the state of the house. He had been gone for three days on an emergency deployment in the north. Three days too long.
"Gojo sama."
A small, breathless voice broke the silence of the corridor. It was a servant boy whose family had served Satoru’s personal branch for generations. The boy was with some information.
Satoru paused.
"Tatsuya" he murmured, his voice deceptively low. "Why are you still up? And why does the courtyard smell like damp earth?"
Tatsuya swallowed hard, looking toward the closed doors of your bedroom before continuing. "While you were away... the council of elders called upon the lady."
Satoru’s posture didn't change, but the ambient temperature seemed to drop. "Did they?"
"They... they claimed she was becoming arrogant. They said a housewife of the Gojo clan must know her place, less she 'grow into her mind' and believe herself above the bloodline." Tatsuya’s voice hitched. "They dragged her to the northern wash-basin. They forced her to clean the clan’s formal geta and zori. With the well water."
The silence that followed was absolute. Not even the crickets in the garden dared to make a sound.
"They forced her?" Satoru repeated. The words were quiet, but they carried the weight of a collapsing star.
"She refused at first, reminding them of her condition," Tatsuya whispered, tears leaking onto the floorboards. "But Elder Ogi... he grabbed her arm. He forced her down to her knees on the stone path. She tripped. Her knee... her knee was scraped. She spent three hours in the cold, scrubbing their filth. She asked them to let her rest, but they told her she needed to be 'disciplined'."
Satoru didn't say another word, nor did he storm off. He simply vanished from the hallway, leaving behind a draft of freezing air.
In the dimly lit inner sanctuary of the estate, three of the clan’s oldest elders sat around a low table, sipping roasted green tea. They were discussing the upcoming seasonal rituals, completely self assured in their ancient, stagnant authority.
The heavy oak doors of the sanctuary didn't just open, they shattered inward, exploding into wooden splinters that embedded themselves into the priceless hanging scrolls on the walls.
The elders scrambled backward, but before they could even draw a breath to protest, Satoru was there.
He didn't use Limitless to crush them from afar. This required the brutal, visceral reality of his bare hands.
"What" he begins, voice deceptively soft, "in the name of all the ancestors, possessed you to order my pregnant wife to wash filth?"
"Satoru! What is the meaning of—"
Ogi, the eldest among them, didn't get to finish his sentence. Satoru lunged forward, his movement a blur of lethal grace. He grabbed Ogi’s right wrist and twisted.
A sickening, wet pop echoed through the room as the bones in Ogi's wrist shattered under Satoru's grip. The old man screamed, a high, reedy sound of pure agony, as Satoru slammed him face first onto the tatami mats.
"You touched her" Satoru whispered. The sound of his voice was worse than any shout. It was dead. Completely devoid of the playful sorcerer they thought they could manage.
Satoru brought his heavy, geta down directly onto Ogi’s outstretched hand, grinding his heel into the old man's knuckles. The sound of fracturing finger bones filled the room. Ogi choked on his own vomit, pinning himself to the floor under the immense, crushing weight of Satoru’s physical strength.
"Satoru! Step back! This is a violation of clan law! She is a woman! She must be disciplined to understand the weight of the Gojo name!" another elder shrieked, his hands shaking as he tried to form a cursed technique sign.
Satoru turned his head, his brilliant blue eyes glowing with a terrifying, unhinged light in the shadows. He had never been this angry in his entire life.
"Disciplined?" Satoru's voice rose, vibrating with a rage that made the very foundations of the estate groan. "You dynamic pieces of garbage. You dare talk about discipline to me? About my wife?"
He stepped off Ogi, leaving the old man weeping into the ruined tatami, and advanced on the second elder.
"I don't let her touch a single piece of anything when she is perfectly healthy" Satoru snarled, the raw emotion finally breaking through his terrifying calm.
"the servants wash my damn boots. I carry her across the courtyard when the gravel is too sharp. And you... you useless, disgusting, vile, rotting fossils... you dragged my pregnant woman out into the cold? To scrub your filth? Her knee bleeds because of your exclusive skill of not using a brain"
He grabbed the second elder by the front of his expensive silk kimono, lifting the grown man entirely off the ground with one hand.
"She is the future of this entire fucking world, and you risked her safety—you risked my child—because your fragile, pathetic egos were threatened by her existence?!" Satoru roared, his voice shaking the roof tiles.
"She will think she's the best of all? She is the best of all! She is mine! Which makes her untouchable to the likes of you!"
He threw the elder across the room, smashing him into a heavy wooden cabinet that collapsed under the impact.
"Satoru... the--the hierarchy... her place-" the third elder stammered, backing into the corner, clutching his prayer beads as if they could save him from a god.
“Her place?” The air crackled. “Her place is to be cherished. To be protected. I have torn apart special grade curses with less effort than it takes me to tolerate your outdated nonsense. You dare speak to my wife as if she is a common servant? As if the life she nurtures is insignificant?”
Satoru stood in the center of the ruined room, his breathing heavy, his chest heaving under his clothes. The sheer pressure of his cursed energy was cracking the plaster on the walls. He looked down at them with a disgust so profound it was sickening.
"Listen to me very carefully" Satoru said, his voice dropping back to a lethal, quiet hiss. "Tradition dies when it threatens what is mine."
"I have never asked her to perform such tasks. Not once. Not before she carried my child, and certainly not now. Do you have any idea what pregnancy entails? The strain? The risk? My wife is not a servant. She is the heart of this clan. She carries the future."
His voice rises, never before this uncontrolled. "You forced her to kneel by a basin while I was away securing this clan's power? While she should be resting, being cared for? If any of you so much as suggest she lift a finger for menial labor again, I will personally ensure your retirement is... permanent. and I will remind you exactly why I am the clan head. Not because of bloodlines or dusty customs. Because I am the strongest. And I will not hesitate to make examples.”
He stepped closer, his shadow engulfing the final elder, deciding it was enough.
"Get out. All of you. Pack your robes, your tea sets, and your useless books, and fuck yourselves out of my estate before the sun rises. If I see a single one of your faces within the clan boundaries tomorrow morning, I won't just break your hands. I will erase your entire branches from the registry. Try me. See if the jujutsu authorities can stop me."
None of them doubted him. The strongest sorcerer in the world was standing before them, completely unhinged. They nodded frantically, Ogi clutching his ruined arm as they dragged themselves out of the room, terrified for their very lives, knowing the strongest's word was law, and his wrath absolute.
The slide of the shoji screen was a mere sigh in the quiet night, a soft friction of wood on wood. The moment Satoru crossed the threshold into the master bedroom, the terrifying, static heavy aura of his rage dissolved entirely, locked away behind the absolute precision of his control. He didn't want even a stray spark of his cursed energy to disrupt your sleep.
The room smelled of sweet tatami, dried lavender, and the faint, bitter tang of the medicinal salve Tatsuya had helped you apply.
Satoru shed his socks, his bare feet sinking into the woven mats as he approached the futon with agonizing care. He knelt beside you, the sheer size of his frame casting a protective shadow over your sleeping form. Without his blindfold, his six eyes tracked every rhythm of your breathing, noting the slight, tense line between your brows even in slumber.
You stirred, your senses waking up before your eyes did. The air in the room suddenly grew warmer, sweeter, thick with the distinct, dizzying scent of him.
"Satoru...?" you mumbled, your voice heavy and thick with sleep. You began to shift, your palms pressing into the futon to push yourself up, but a large, impossibly warm hand slid over your shoulder, gently anchoring you down.
"Shh... stay down, hime" he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against the quiet of the room. "Don't get up for me. Never get up for me."
He slid under the heavy silk duvet, but he didn't pull you into his arms just yet. Instead, he worked his way down to the foot of the futon. His touch was feather light as he peeled back the edge of the blanket, exposing your bare legs to the cool night air.
Your heart pinched, a sudden flush of anxiety warming your cheeks. You remembered the heavy, frozen stone of the northern wash basin, the harsh, disapproving glares of the elders, the way the coarse bristles of the brush had scraped against your skin. You had desperately wanted to hide it from him, to spare him the headache of clan politics when he already carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.
But Satoru was already staring at your right knee. The neat, white bandage Tatsuya had carefully wrapped was stark against your skin.
A tiny, involuntary tremor ran through Satoru’s hands. The very fingers that had just shattered bones and ground old men's knuckles into dust were now trembling with a terrifying fragility as he slid his palms beneath your calf, lifting your leg just an inch to cradle it against his chest.
He leaned down, his silver hair spilling over your skin like silk. He didn't just look, he pressed his lips gently against the side of your knee, just beside the gauze, kissing the uninjured skin with a soft, lingering reverence. Then, his lips tracked a slow, agonizingly tender path up your thigh, his breath hot against your skin.
"I'm sorry" he murmured, his forehead resting against your thigh as his voice cracked, raw and bleeding with a guilt he couldn't hide. "I'm so sorry I left you alone. I'm so sorry I wasn't here, sweetness."
The sheer vulnerability in his tone made your throat tight. You reached down, your fingers weaving into the thick, ridiculously soft tufts of his white hair, gently tugging until he shifted upward. He crawled back up the length of your body, sliding his frame beneath the covers until he was flush against you.
"It's okay" you whispered, your thumb catching a stray tear that threatened to spill from the corner of his brilliant, crystalline eyes. "It's just a little scrape, Satoru. Truly. They... they just wanted me to learn the household duties. They said it was tradition for the women of the house. I just didn't want to cause trouble for you."
Satoru let out a ragged, shaky breath that stuttered against your collarbone. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose scenting your skin, inhaling you as if he were a starving man. His lips pressed a frantic, hot sequence of kisses along your jaw, up to your cheek, and finally against your lips, a soft, bruising, desperate kiss that tasted of a possessiveness so deep it bordered on worship.
His large hands slid down your back, molding your spine to his chest, before one palm found its permanent home, flat and warm against the slight, delicate swell of your belly. His fingers splayed wide over your abdomen, a protective shield of flesh and boundless power.
"You don't have duties to anyone but yourself" Satoru swore against your lips, his chest heaving as his heart thudded rapidly, a frantic, wild rhythm against your own ribs. He pulled you so close you could barely tell where your body ended and his began. "You are the lady of this house. My lady. You don't bow to anyone, you don't clean for anyone, and you don't break yourself for their rotting ideas of tradition."
He kissed the crown of your head, his hand on your stomach gently rubbing in tiny, soothing circles, his thumb caressing the soft fabric of your sleepwear.
"Let them talk. Let them rot" he whispered, his voice turning dark for a fraction of a second before softening as he pressed another kiss to your eyelid. "You just stay safe. Stay soft and warm right here. Let me handle the rest. Please, hime... just stay safe for me."
You smiled softly in the dark, your senses clouded by his immense, radiating warmth and the intoxicating rhythm of his breathing. You let your eyes close, completely melting into him, entirely unaware of the bloodied, broken elders currently packing their things in the dead of night, fleeing the estate in absolute terror.
You didn't need to know. As Satoru tightened his arms around you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and burying his face back into your hair, he held you like you were the only piece of reality that mattered in the universe.
And as his thumb continued to trace slow, adoring lines over your belly, you knew that to him, you absolutely were.
' being loved by satoru gojo ' giggling squealing kicking my feet warnings : idfk fluff , gojo being head over heels for you
taking a break after a long day of training and instructing a bunch of stubborn teenagers, you and shoko were sitting in the staff room---discussing things that gojo has done for you that seemed totally normal.
to you.
"satoru left a mission halfway through one time because i said i missed him." you shrug.
shoko nearly choked on her coffee, "he did what?"
you didn't understand why shoko was reacting. i mean, that was totally normal. ...right?
she places her mug down, eyeing you suspiciously. "how often does he carry your bags?"
"all the time."
"open doors?"
"yeah?"
"buys you things?"
"well, obviously."
every one of your answers to her questions, shoko grew more and more confused. she knew that you two were dating, but she always assumed he didn't really get attached to people. well, not like that at least.
shoko clears her throat, "you know he doesn't do any of that for the rest of us, right?" she lowers her voice. "last week i asked him to pass me a pen and he threw it at my head."
"what?" you gasp---and that's when the flashbacks hit you.
gojo automatically ties your shoelaces even though he knows you're more than capable.
gojo carries you when you're tired.
gojo remembering your coffee order.
gojo giving you his jacket before you can even say that you're cold.
gojo dropping everything when you call.
each memory gets progressively more embarrassing because of your obliviousness. so, after the break with shoko, you went looking for gojo for confirmation.
finding him on the field, watching and instructing yuji and megumi while they train together, you approach him.
"do you really do all those things because you love me?"
gojo blinks, "well hello to you too," he chuckles deeply, turning to face you. "explain, sweetheart."
you huff, "like.. everything! you tie my shoelaces, you buy me things without asking, you carry me when i'm tired---"
"who else would i do it for?"
"...shoko says normal boyfriends don't carry spare hair ties." your lips purse together, turning your face away.
gojo tilts his head to the side, placing his index finger under your chin to guide your face back to his. "normal boyfriends are losers."
okay eat this up before i move onto my rin itoshi mini series
remember please do not copy, steal, rewrite, or put my works into ai. i work hard on all my fics.
