♡ Fuck it, guess we both ain’t shit !
— Your boyfriend, Suguru, cheats on you with his best friend and Satoru’s girlfriend—Shoko. So what better is there when their exes get together?
Tags: [SMUT/ANGST w COMFORT - 18+] Childhoodbsf/bsfs bf!Gojo x best friend’s girlfriend/childhoodbsf!reader. Shokosugu (donthateme) Porn with a whole lotta plot. Cheating ig, backshots, missionary, handjob, mini cunnilingus, exhibionism/voyerism (?), hair pulling, breeding/condomless activities, yearning, pining Gojo… ehhh yk the drill. Satoru: s0311_tre !!
You and Gojo can only exchange silent glances between eachother as you watch your boyfriend—Suguru Geto—rub shoulders with his girlfriend—Shoko Ieiri.
Sure, you’ve all been best friends since middle school even before the couples in the group formed—you and Suguru in your first year of college while Shoko with Satoru in high school.
But you aren’t sure where the lines of platonic love and romantic love blur when your boyfriend is laughing way too closely with your friend’s girlfriend like they’re sharing something far too intimate for the rest to hear.
You’ve known Satoru for years, sure. He is really attractive, probably caught your eye sometime when you first became friends.
Actually, not probably—you had told Shoko before ever getting involved with Suguru that you had developed a sort of crush on his friend.
In the end though, Shoko ended up getting closer with him despite what you’d told her and you naturally ended up forming a stronger bond with Geto.
However, you’ve never rubbed noses with him or sung love songs to each other in karaoke—regardless of how drunk you were.
Yet, the sight of Suguru and Shoko carelessly touching each other and laughing together like their partners aren’t watching them from afar, stirs a sickly feeling in your stomach.
Currently, you’re both standing outside of the cafeteria the four of you agreed to meet at to catch up.
A car accident on your way to your destination and you sent a message to your boyfriend saying that you’d be half an hour late to which you received a half-assed “Okay. No problem.”
Satoru got held up at work and was already planning on coming later.
Coincidentally, you both met in the parking lot and made your way together to the entry only to freeze outside when you saw your significant others head to head, cheeks rubbing as they snapped pictures—perfectly unaware of them being watched.
Your heart weakly beats in your chest, mood falling and head spinning as you stabilise yourself with a hand on Satoru’s shoulder.
“You’re kidding.” He mumbles from your side, body equally as tense as yours is.
Every bone in you wants to convince yourself and the world around you that this is a misunderstanding, that the newfound closeness between them is just a product of years of friendship.
Nothing new, nothing personal.
The two of you briefly compose yourselves, pining your sour moods down and clipping your words before walking in and taking a seat opposite them.
Shoko is the first to notice you walk in, quickly but calmly putting her phone down as your eyes zero on her.
She sends a smile your way that has your insides churning, the image you have of one of your best friends slowly tainting itself with ugly slashes.
Suguru greets Satoru in a hug, which the latter returns strangely quiet and stoic—making the air on their side turn awkward quick.
Then he turns to you, reaches over the table and takes your hand in his gentle grasp to place a kiss on it.
This is wrong, you feel it swimming in your veins—the afterthought that you are already sitting in the ruins of both your relationship and Satoru’s.
From the way Shoko is by your boyfriend, and from how Suguru is by his best friend’s girlfriend—everything in this setting screams that it’s out of order.
Your partner should be by your side. Not reaching across the table diagonally and greeting you with a warm smile like he wasn’t wearing a bright one with the woman next to him mere minutes ago.
Gosh, can someone be this two faced?
You don’t want to speculate it yet, but how can he look at you in such peace when he’s cheating behind your back.
Shoko, never being the one for PDA, just squeezes Satoru’s hand across the dark oak table and says a small hi.
A waitress comes by and asks for everyone’s order. You take the opportunity to snap out of your trance and point to the first thing on the menu when she comes around to you.
After leaving, the tense atmosphere settles over the four of you like a fragile veil—mere words away from being shattered.
The two of them, oblivious to being caught, sport smiles on their faces as they wait for their significant others to say something.
They exchange a look between eachother like they already speak a completely different language you’ll never learn and that they’ve mastered with time.
Your chest tightens, Satoru’s hand slips under the table and lands on your thigh to ground you seeing how tightly your knuckles are gripping the fabric of your skirt.
Breathing out, you regulate your thoughts just enough to manage a weak smile.
“How have you two been?” You croak out, voice hoarse, raspy from the bundle in your throat.
Suguru doesn’t miss a beat before replying.
“Good.” His voice is smooth like it’s always been—steady, warm like the tether he used to be for you, but now is for somebody else.
Your lips press into a thin line, unsatisfied with the brief answer—you’re about to push for some more when Shoko interrupts.
“We hiked Kamikochi last week.”
Your breath hitches, the hand underneath the table catches Satoru’s as your heart drops.
Kamikoichi is a scenic mountain valley you’ve dreamed of hiking ever since Suguru had introduced you to his hobby.
It’s remote, beautiful, peaceful—but your boyfriend had always some excuse for you two not go.
Whether it was work or just personal circumstances that didn’t allow neither of you to go, there was something between you both and that special place.
And now, you’ve just found out he’s climbed it with someone else.
Without you even knowing.
It’s not as small as it seems, not really. Not when you’ve both been getting farther away from each other—leaving you chasing after the person you’re dating on some days.
The worst part is this isn’t an accident. Suguru has always known how much you wanted to visit the place just like he knows you like sitting next to him in restaurants and cafes because you like being close.
Being grounded by Satoru’s strong grip beneath the table as your breathing shakes and your eyes sting.
Your voice is a ghost of how it usually is when a tight smile slowly stretches across your face and you mutter. “That’s nice.”
Satoru is not better than you though. He’s spent a good while of his life with Shoko. Middle-school sweethearts who know nothing but everything about each other.
They’re the kind of couple that couldn’t be more different but that persevere through time.
Even when the roads are rocky and the odds against them.
Even when Satoru knew deep down they would get nowhere.
He always felt a stronger pull to other women, he always saw how she’d be bored of him more often than not.
But he still clung onto that little fantasy that he’d be one and done. Married to his high-school sweetheart with a kid on the way and a white picket-fence house in place.
He still clung onto that fantasy even when on some nights, his mind kept drifting to his best friend’s girlfriend.
It would be a lie to say that Satoru liked Shoko all along.
No, you took over his being since the beginning.
But 15 and stupid, when Shoko confessed, he was quick to jump in a relationship without second thought.
Wanting to be cool and all with a girlfriend in middle school, without actually weighing how much his stupid acceptance of her confession would reroute his whole life.
Now he’s only somebody to you who’s at arms length and a friend.
Maybe for now, the worst part of this whole situation is that you both can’t even tell if things are over between your respective partners.
You can’t tell if Shoko and Suguru have tangled their very obvious feelings for eachother any farther than what you’re both seeing with your eyes.
Can’t tell if Suguru’s lips have been pressed against hers like they do with yours—softly, slowly, deliberately.
Can’t figure out if he touches her with the same kind of reverence he does with you.
Or if he has already mapped out and memorised every dip of her skin, every surface that’s painted by moles.
With your chest clenched tight and Satoru’s comforting presence, you sit through the excruciatingly painful little coffee date.
Where Suguru laughs richly like he hasn’t done it in forever.
And where you’ve never seen Shoko be so happy—smile so much, look so free.
It’s skinning on so many different levels.
Watching the people you’ve both devoted years of your life to, turn to others, and said others being people who you trusted with your life.
By the time you and Satoru excuse yourself, the sun is yawning in the horizon and going to bed.
Your feet barely hit three steps in the parking lot before the sob you’ve been swallowing down comes out through your cracked chest.
Satoru remains quiet as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you over to his car that’s nearest.
Sitting in the backseat, you sob with no control—tears staining his shirt as he holds your head snugly against his chest while his other hand runs up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.
But you’re shattered beyond words. Feeling like the universe has played a cruel trick on you, like it’s getting you back for something you haven’t done.
Your cries ring like sirens in Satoru’s head, he’s becoming all too aware of the situation you’re both in the more you cry and it only makes his insides churn.
Frankly, Gojo isn’t sure how to move on from here.
How does he exist without the two people he’s had all along?
What if you leave him too?
His bones ice with the thought, a chill running down his spine.
For now, he can only hold you and hope the slashes in your heart are still mendable.
Your whimpers subside after a while and your evening steadies. Head feeling heavy against Satoru, you fall asleep on accident.
Later, you wake up in a bedroom you recognise aa Gojo’s and for a split second, you allow yourself to convince your consciousness that it was all a dream.
But when he comes through the door, dressed in loungewear and sagged shoulders, a pitiful look in his eyes and a tea mug in his hand, you know it’s not.
“Hey.” He whispers, reluctantly sitting on the edge of the bed you’ve sinked in again.
Staring at the ceiling, you barely have the mental energy to mutter a “Hi.” back, but you do anyway.
Your voice is dry, scratchy from the earlier crying—throat raw and begging for water when Satoru interrupts your mind.
“Here, I got you some tea.”
A small smile touches your face at how he seemed to have read your thoughts.
“Thank you.” You rasp, sitting back up and letting your back hit the headboard as you grab the mug from him.
It’s warm against your fingers, the leaves dance on the water’s surface—painting it in a swirl of purples and pinks. Showing that it’s a red berries kind of tea.
The smell climbs up to your nose and your shoulders relax just a bit as the fruity scent envelops your tense muscles.
Satoru watches you with attentive eyes, tracking the fatigue etched on your face from the recent events and the tear stains on the corner of your eyes.
Taking a sip, you feel your temples pulse in relief before the pain in them completely leaves. A satisfied hum escapes you before you remember something.
“You drink tea?” The question comes out lighthearted, a small chuckle biting the end of your words.
His head drops as a laugh also rips from him.
“No.” He replies, letting a breath pass before the confession. “Got it specially for you.”
A warm sensation blooms across your chest. You can’t help but be taken back to middle school when you were whipped for him.
The feeling sits wrongly in your chest, but you feel nostalgic for a second. A thin veil of safety draping over you in this fragile moment with your thoughts.
Noticing how you’ve fallen quiet, Satoru’s lips part to say something when a faint chime echoes through the room.
Fishing his phone out of his pocket, the lock screen lights up with the most recent notification.
One from Suguru that reads “Me and Shoko are going to Kyoto next week for three days. I’ve already asked Y/N but she hasn’t answered, you wanna tag along too?”
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue as he reads the first few words alone. What excuse would they put if he were to ask what they were going to do alone in Kyoto for three days.
That you don’t like to travel? That Satoru is too busy to go? That Suguru knows the city better? Or that Shoko has some business there which she can’t go alone to?
He wonders whether to bite his tongue and go, or stay behind with you—guessing you feel no pull to be with your boyfriend and his side chick.
When it hits him that you haven’t seen the message.
You’re looking at him over the rim of your mug, curiosity swimming in your irises under the dimly lit room.
Only having woken up a few minutes ago.
Taking a look at your groggy, still sleep-entranced figure, he ponders for a split second before deciding.
And to Kyoto you go next week.
With a trunk full of bags and your partners sleeping on each other in the backseat, your throats dry, and some radio station playing on low, Satoru is driving you all to the city.
You don’t know when you actually agreed to do this, only that by Tuesday your suitcase was zipped shut tightly and Wednesday you were getting your ass hauled into shotgun.
Satoru’s grip around the steering wheel is tight—knuckles turning a pasty white, the leathers stitches digging lines into his palm.
You’re biting your lip continuously, stomach flipping as you think of what to anticipate the next few days.
The silent hours in the car stretch on for what feels like forever, even when the GPS is bright with the numbers “30 min.” till you reach the hotel.
With the two knocked out in the back, you lean over the console and whisper close enough so Satoru hopefully hears.
“Are you sure this was a good idea?” You ask, eyebrows drawn together. His hands ease off the wheel, gaze flickering to you before glueing back on the road.
He breathes out, heavy and frustrated. You watch how his lips press into a thoughtful straight line.
That’s enough of an answer.
His hands land back on ten and twelve as he smoothly swerves off the highway and into a street, ten minutes out.
The hotel the two loverbirds have booked is nothing short of luxurious but comfortable. It’s black, sleek and polished outside with mahogany walls in the lobby and a soft, cream carpet on the floor.
Checking in, you acquire two key cards. A room for you and Suguru and one for Satoru and Shoko.
The remaining time settling in passes within a blink, you shake Suguru awake while Satoru carries his girlfriend into the hotel.
Your boyfriend carries her bags and his while you take yours, leaving Satoru’s bags in the car.
Seeing that Satoru still hasn’t come down when you leave your hotel room to find him and tell him that Shoko’s bags are in your room, you go to the car to help with his belongings to find him sitting in the driver’s seat.
It isn’t particularly warm this time of year, there’s a chill that clings to your skin and makes the hair on it stand.
Confused, you slide in the passenger seat and shut the door behind you closed, shielding yourself from the cold.
“Satoru, what are you doing here?”
He looks startled by you coming even though he doesn’t show it. His hands are in his pockets, fists clamped shut like he’s trying to hold in a secret.
You feel the tension in the car rise the longer he stays quiet, head bowed.
“What?” You whisper, becoming increasingly worried. “Are you o—“
“I found hickeys on Shoko.” He blurts out, resting his head over the steering wheel as his words pierce through you.
You’re at a loss of words for moments. Head spinning and ringing with every vowel he pronounced.
“What..?” You voice again. Unbelieving. No, you refuse to believe it.
There’s no way your Suguru did that.
There’s just no way, right?
Your breathing becomes shallow, lungs screaming for air as you struggle to breathe—a full panic attack washing over you.
Satoru’s already moving when he understands what’s going on, hands wrapping around your shaking ones and pulling you close to him.
You tremble like you’re freezing in his arms, he offers the warmth you’ve been missing in your live for months now.
The one Suguru has taken and given to another now.
He hears your heart fragment in pieces through the raw gasps you’re taken. Sounds stuck somewhere between struggled breaths and choked sobs.
Nothing hurts quite like this.
His arms hold you tight enough for you to not completely slip into the sad frenzy you were in last time it all crashed over you.
After your hyperventilating dies down, you push yourself off him. Eyes glossed over but no tears staining your cheeks.
You’ve only just made it here.
“I want to go home.” You plead, eyes full of hope that he’ll oblige.
His head shakes in a no and you feel the horrible feeling of almost crying climb up your throat again. Making you want to gag.
Satoru’s voice rings softly. “I can’t take you home.”
You inhale a sharp, painful breath.
“We’ll stay until we’re sure… it’s really what we think, okay?” His hand reaches your cheek and caresses it.
You don’t mean to snuggle against it, but your body craves comfort more than the rational side of your brain can process.
Nodding against him, you take a few more deep breaths and you both leave the car.
The ride to the fourth floor is quiet.
Exchanging brief, tense goodbyes, you both leave the unspoken truths hanging in the air as you both disappear in your rightful rooms.
Suguru is knocked out again in the bed when you come in, back facing the window on the king-sized bed.
Tired from the crying and exhausted from the stressing, you silently slip under the covers behind him—pulling yourself closest to the other end of the bed, not wanting to risk touching him.
Not after you found out his hands hold the strings of another woman’s heart.
Evening rolls in the form of knock on the door. You toss and turn till the sound annoys you enough to wake up for your eyes to see the moon hanging in the sky through the window.
The knocks continue as you lie on your back for a second and realise Suguru isn’t in bed. Assuming it’s him at the door, probably locked out, you push yourself off the soft mattress and drag your feet to the door.
Pulling it open, there’s no dark haired, onyx-eyed man standing there, instead, his best friend is leaning over the doorframe with bloodshot eyes.
“Let me in.” He immediately goes. You step aside without a word, leaving the door to him which he locks once shut closed.
Leading him further into the room, you sit back down on your bed, rubbing your eyes tiredly as you start to feel your outside clothes—the ones you hadn’t changed out from before napping—clinging onto your skin.
You drawl out the first words. “What’s up?” Voice still laced with sleep and weak.
A loud, stressed sigh leaves Satoru and your eyes fly up to see him running a hand down his face.
“They’re on a date. Went to dinner alone while we slept.”
Taking a look at the clock on the bedside table, you realise that it’s 9 PM.
The fact that they both probably are eating and laughing away together should have you crumbling again, crying harder than before because this is really the only confirmation you need to know that they’re more than friends.
Instead, a humourless laugh escapes you and Satoru quirks an eyebrow.
You’re exhausted from everything.
The months of excuses and lies. The hushed phone calls and late-night “drives.”. The lack of intimacy and looks.
Somewhere between those growing cracks, a seed of self-loathing started to grow.
Now, you hate yourself for staying, for letting it get this far so that they both feel comfortable enough to play in your faces.
It’s humiliating, really.
Satoru stands from where he was perched against the desk, taking up the space beside you on the bed.
His weight crinkling the comforter beneath him and making the bed groan in protest.
“You okay?” He asks, head tilted to where you’re just staring at the floor—eyes lifeless.
Brushing a stray strand of hair off your face and tucking it behind your ear, Satoru tries to read your emotionless face.
Sighing, you mumble. “I don’t think I care anymore, there has been nothing going on with me and Suguru for a while now.”
Satoru feels his heartbeat in his ears as you confess the actual state of your relationship. Caught off guard by the realness in your tone.
Narrowing his eyes to the open window, he watches as the tree leaves rustle in the distance under the winds strong blow.
The breeze seeping into the room tousles his hair, offering to hold the conversation as you both hold your words.
He takes the wheel again when he slowly confesses again. “Yeah, me and Shoko, too.”
Your head rises to watch him. The soft curve of his jawline under the moonlight, the pale strands of his hair.
And the fading glimmer behind his azure eyes.
Your chest feels tight with the wrong feelings building up the last months.
Emotions so heavy that it hurts.
Satoru has always been here for you, always.
When you argued with your boyfriend.
When you lost your grandma years ago.
He’s always been a rock for you when you were shaky.
And now you can only try and offer some stability while you also crumble apart.
It’s not everyday you see him vulnerable with you or anyone.
Hesitantly placing your hand on his sleeve, your fingers wrap around the grey material of his sweatshirt, bringing his attention from the shining moon to you again.
“I’m sorry.” Your heartfelt apology lacks a reason behind it, why are you apologising?
Is it out of pity that both you and him ended up like this?
Or are you apologising for your boyfriend going for a taken woman, in his stead?
Or perhaps, you’re apologising for never speaking up.
For never telling him how you felt, thus leading you to where you are.
His face softens, eyes crinkling at the corners. Blue irises holding a kind of longing you’ve never seen him dedicate to his own girlfriend.
Maybe Gojo isn’t any better than Suguru.
Leading on a woman for nearly a decade, never committing fully or putting a ring on it because his heart belonged with someone else.
You feel your heart jam against your chest relentlessly as he gazes down at you, eyes flickering between yours and your lips before sliding back up.
He doesn’t shy away from being caught in the act when your breath hitches again, a small gasp passing between the two of you as the gap closes little by little.
Your hand falls from his sleeve, landing somewhere behind you as your palm digs into the mattress and you balance your weight on it.
The more Satoru leans over, the more you pull back, feeling the pressure in the room thicken and your veins pulse with anticipation.
This wasn’t in your plans, yet the sight of his low-lidded eyes and glossy pink lips from running his tongue over them hazes you mind.
Making your thoughts a mush of nothing with sense. All rationality leaving out the open window.
The silence turns suffocating as you become unable to move away and he lowers his head closer to your face, noses eventually brushing as he breaks the tension little by little.
Your resolve going with it.
“I think I’ve always kind of known I wasn’t the one for her.” He whispers, lips barely ghosting yours. Leaving a lingering shadow behind when he pulls back just a bit to look into your eyes.
Unable to think correctly, you blurt out the first thing your heart is begging to find out.
“Then who are you the one for?”
Satoru stares and stares till he finds out what he’s looking for behind your eyes.
The second he sees the flicker of hope.
Lips crashing onto yours in a hungry meeting. Desperation and devotion mixing halfway through as his hands find your waist and claw at them to assure that you’ll never leave his grip once he’s got you.
The remaining sorry amount of oxygen you had in your lungs is swiftly stolen away as he presses and presses his lips against yours.
Years of watching, yearning and silent praying for you to be his bleeding through every swift swipe of his tongue down your throat.
Finding the hidden places of you that he’s always dreamed of exploring. He learns the base of your mouth instantly, taking and taking from you your reciprocity.
You kiss back with equal fire, trying to keep afloat in his battle. You’ve wanted him for as long as he has, if not longer.
So you won’t allow him to sit there and think he’s the only one who has been suffering the last decade.
Not when you imagined yourself in Shoko’s place so many times.
When she’d come to work limping, her neck painted in blooming bruises and love bites that would make your stomach churn.
Or when she’d celebrate another year with the man you secretly could never forget.
Especially when the nights at home alone started to get more frequent while Suguru ran off to another woman’s arms.
He unlatches from your lips with a string of saliva stubbornly holding you two together.
As if you’ve spent so much time seperated that now the cards on your side do anything to keep you connected.
He’s slightly panting, chest rising and falling erratically. Heartbeat seeping through his fingertips and onto your waist.
You’re sure he can also feel your heart slamming against your ribcage.
The distance between you two disappears once more as his lips find yours again. This time, in a slower kiss.
His hands unclasp from around your waist, standing up from the edge of the bed, he parts your thighs before slotting himself in between. Pressing his palms beneath your thighs, he wraps them around his own midsection and climbs up the mattress.
Your fall is cushioned by the soft comforter when he gets down on his elbows, hips pressing against your aching core.
Lips melting against eachother and filling the room with only the sound of kissing as you make out, your hands fall from his shoulders and roam over his shirt.
You feel him tense under your warm, needy touch as you tug at the end of his shirt. He parts from you for a brief second.
Baby blues looking down at you from a veil of lush, before he pushes himself off you and lifts his shirt.
Catching your breath with his breathtaking physique, he’s quick to pull your shirt over your head too and throw it somewhere far away.
A breath passes only between him tasting your lips again. His now bare chest pressing against your lacy bra. You feel his growing erection strain again his sweatpants and press against your own warmth.
His body subconsciously ruts his hips against yours, searching for friction. You almost moan at how much you feel between the layers.
Fingers trailing down from where they were tracing every dip of Satoru’s washboard abs, you slowly reach the waistband of his pants and still your jaw till he shows any sign of taking this further.
As if you stopping physically hurt him, he kisses you harsher, biting your bottom lip to slide his tongue to its rightful place again.
Your hands slip inside his gray sweatpants, fingers grazing a bead of pre-cum dampening the black cotton of his boxers.
Satoru lets out a deep growl as his hands grip your hip.
Pulling back, you hook your fingers inside of his pockets and pull down his pants before reaching inside his underwear and wrapping your hands around his twitching boner.
The grumble Satoru lets out before moving from your lips to your neck goes straight down to your leaking pussy, making it clench around you.
He chuckles as he nips at a sensitive area in the crook of your neck that has you whimpering.
“You’re already trembling, baby.” He teases, voice low and private like there’s somebody else in the room.
You exhale, pushing his words aside as you pull his cock free from restraints and land a few slow strokes on it.
Your mind rewires with how hard and thick it feels in your hand already—thoughts slipping to how it will feel in a few seconds when it’s inside you.
Unaware of its length though, your fingers straighten up along the height of it and you keep trailing upwards till you hit the pale mushroom head.
Your breath hitches when you get just how long and thick he is—feeling the veins in your hands makes you salivate even more.
Satoru, seemingly aware of his effect on you, starts humping his cock in your frozen hand while itching temporary marks on your skin that would mean so much more than words tomorrow morning.
Snapping back to reality, leaving the daydreaming to the side, your grip tightens around him again.
Collecting the clear liquid on his tip, you smear it around what you can of his size and apply pressure as you stroke him.
His muscles tense under your hand, your smell invading his nose is doing nothing to help his situation where he might cum like an inexperienced teenager within minutes.
Your head tilts back when he unclasps your bra with a flick of his fingers and attaches his teeth to a peaked nipple from the nights chill.
He devotedly sucks on the sensitive bud, sending jolts of electricity through your body as your thighs beg to clamp together.
Pleasure mixes with frustration when he moves to the other after a while. Your strokes gets sloppy.
You’re a whining mess beneath him, begging for him to just get inside of you when you shimmy down your pants and slot him between your thighs.
Snugly sitting under your twitching pussy, Satoru almost loses it and paints your flimsy panties white as he finishes kissing your girlies.
Pushing himself off you, he smirks down at your frowning face.
“You’re one needy girl, aren’t you?” He muses, pressing one final kiss to your lips before dipping in between your legs.
He pushes your knees to your chest, angling your lace-covered pussy till it’s sitting prettily in front of his mouth, screaming his name in morse.
His breath is hot over your sensitive core when he brings his face closer to the poking bud, fanning over the surface of your frustration.
You almost cry out of need, fingers gripping the sheets like they’re a lifeline you need.
Hooking a hand under your ass, he pulls the strings of your thong with two fingers and doesn’t even bother to completely throw it off your body before drowning himself in your essence.
A high-pitched moan immediately cracks from your chest, bouncing off the walls and straight to Satoru’s cock again.
He gives your crying pussy a few greedy licks, tongue flattened out in eagerness to catch every drop.
Then, with a kiss, he parts. Getting back up on his knees and holding your hips strongly as he lines himself up.
Your eyes are glossed over with lust as you feel his tip nudge your entrance, a quiet warning of how you’re about to be ripped apart when you both hear loud footsteps in the corridor followed by hushed voices.
Your heart drops to your stomach when you realise what you’re doing. Limbs freezing on the bed you’re laying on.
Satoru looks over his shoulder, seeing the light beneath the front door spill into the room and the faint noise of Shoko’s recognisable heels clinking against the marble.
He scoffs lightly under his breath, unbothered with them if it wasn’t for him feeling reality crash into you and threaten to take this moment he’s been waiting decades for, from him.
Clinking his tongue, a grin stretches across his face as he turns to you again, pushing himself in one go.
He doesn’t bottom out just yet, but just breaching that first ring of resistance he deems too tight for someone who’s dating his best friend, gets the reaction he needed from you.
A guttural moan frees itself from your throat, eyes clamping shut as the stretch consumes you and the sound bleeds through the thin walls.
Satoru makes no attempt in silencing you, fingers tracing absentminded, shapeless forms on your hip till he sees your slacked jaw regain movement.
He pushes himself further inside, halfway through now, fighting his own battles as you grip him like vice.
Another string of whimpers and choked moans spill from you, his consciousness drinking it all in, fuelling him with more need to completely ruin you.
Have you get undone by the hands that truly deserve to touch your body.
Hands that hold unconditional love for you.
Not hands that hold the blood of someone elses heart.
And that is exactly what Suguru and Shoko, in the next room over, will understand tonight.
Falling back down and pressing his chest against you, he whispers in your ear, aware only him that you both have spectators now.
“Come on, sweetheart, just a few more inches.” He should sound cocky with a voice so smooth and confident ringing in your ear like that, but he sounds so soft and intimate when he’s so close and so warm.
You nod against him, half gone and half full.
With one final push, Satoru bottoms out and you can’t help but moan his name when his balls hit your ass and when you’re so full of him that you can feel him in your throat.
His grin grows impossibly tighter, corners of his lips curving upwards and pining themselves there for what you think will be the rest of the night.
He brushes the hair on your angel-like features away and presses soft kisses to your face as you readjust to his side.
Never having been stretched this much.
“You okay, baby?” He asks, hands settling on your waist. You hum, clawing at his shoulders for support.
It only takes him that short melodic sound to pull back and slam home, pulling out a loud moan from you.
The room fills with your screams, whimpers, mewls and moans as he pounds you till you’re dust.
Too stupid and fucked out and gone, you spewl out random bullshit as aggressive plap!plap!plap! echoes through the space.
Satoru’s hair sticks to his forehead as he keeps thrusting into you—barely putting in any effort to make his ruts hit hard because you’re pulling him in so strongly he barely needs to work.
You blink and he’s hooking an arm under your waist, flipping you on your stomach without warning.
Sliding himself back in, you groan against the pillow under your head when the new position hits places you’re not sure you’ve discovered yet.
Not by yourself, and surely not with Suguru.
He kisses your back like he’s claiming yet another part of you. Like he wants to make a dent in your spine with how much he can love you.
Your tongue feels like a senseless piece of meat hanging out of your mouth as he fucks your brains out.
Head lolling down again, muffling your screams, Satoru’s hand tangles in your hair when he pulls your face off it and growls in your ear.
Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you process his words, eyes rolling back subconsciously when he finds that spongy spot inside of you.
The thought should frighten you.
Fucking your best friend’s boyfriend and your boyfriend’s best friend isn’t payback for what Suguru has done with Shoko.
The thought should dry you up.
Instead, it makes you even wetter.
Filthy juices spilling down Satoru’s cock as he hits home harshly.
The sound of skin clapping against skin drowns out the thoughts of how wrong this all is. But the thought of how good it feels prevails.
It seeps into your bones and you allow yourself to fall victim to Satoru’s sweet kisses on your shoulder.
The coil in your stomach shakes with every thrust, thinning out with every brush and kiss of his tip in your cervix.
Only not realising, and far too late, that every drag of his cock is so delicious because he’s raw in it.
Marking you as his from the very first time.
Oh god. You think as your legs start shaking and you feel the euphoria start to wash over you.
“Oh god.” You moan as the sweet release washes over you.
Still spasming around his cock, walls gripping to him, he flips you around till you’re on top and his back hits the matress.
Firm hands hold you by your hips as he rides you on him through your own orgasm as you call out for him.
Your sensitive bud, oozing out a sticky clear substance, smears it on his base as he plops you down on his dick.
A bulge forming through your stomach, his own groans smoothly mixing with your overwhelmed ones.
He follows after dropping you a few times on his length, arms going limp by his sides as you sit on his cock and take his cum straight in your tummy.
A relieved sound escapes you. Your body falls forward, defeated, and your head lands on his warm chest.
You feel his arms warm around your back loosely.
For now, as you listen to his heart still frantically breathing, you let tomorrow carry the weight of your problems and fall asleep shortly after he presses a soft kiss to your head.
Thank god the door was locked.
You stirr awake what feels like five minutes after being filled by Satoru’s release, the sticky substance glueing your inner thighs as you shift.
Your eyes scream in protest against the light shining down at you—not from the morning sun, soft and mellow.
The hotel room’s lights blind you for a second when you open your eyes.
You’re still on the soft surface of Satoru’s chest, safely embraced.
Your voice is groggy with sleep when you blink up at him. “Satoru… Turn the light off…” You mumble, head dropping once more.
Feeling your head being caressed by his fingers, you almost slip away into dreamland again when his words ring.
“Tell your boyfriend that.” His voice is too light, too quiet and calm for what he’s just said.
Your head jumps off his chest, eyes skimming the room quickly until they land on the figure in the doorway.
Dressed in their dinner attire.
His hair messy, her makeup ruined by streaking mascara.
You don’t know if they heard everything and if they spiralled with it going on.
You can’t tell the difference between that and if they were to have had sex.
That says a lot more than anything.
Satoru’s smirking at Suguru, holding you like the chess pieces are all on his side and the game is over.
Shoko’s holding herself against the doorframe, legs shaky, chest heavy.
And all you do, is smile back.
A mirror of the man you truly deserve to be held by.
MASTERLIST, JJK MASTERLIST, TAGLIST.
2k special<3 been a sec since I wrote smut ig (or ive been so busy w asks that it feels forever). Thank u all for ur continued support and love, ur all incredible ilysm 💞
Hopefully will proofread this someday.
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