Iris

hellooo this is iris (she/her) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

september 3rd, 2007*+:｡.｡

ABOUT ME/eighteen.virgo ♍︎.redbull addict. manga/manhwa reader.ೃ࿐ Writing for fun. Im still in school so I may not be as active as I wish to be. medical student ( your future nurse writing smut) im filipino, but I also speak french?! bilingual asf. #hamzahbias #lovethegojoverse

₊⊹⁀➴ masterlist

Give me requests or questions!! I be bored :p

'Im lost in your Iris' - Pastel Ghost

camboy choso x fem reader ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Summary: Choso is your fav camboy who just so happens to be your substitute professor for your anatomy class

Warnings: explicit sexual content

A/N: my other works ✎ masterlist (all art credits at the end)

The glow of your laptop screen was the only thing illuminating your bedroom at 2:00 a.m. You were curled on your side, the duvet kicked to the floor, your skin flushed a deep rose. On the monitor, BloodKing_M was adjusting his camera.

Choso was a vision of dark, messy aesthetics. He had permanent shadows under his eyes and a thick, horizontal mark across the bridge of his nose that gave him a rugged, dangerous edge. Tonight, he was wearing a sheer black compression shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, his large, veined hands resting casually on his thighs.

"Is it recording?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to settle right between your hip bones.

He didn't wait for the chat to explode with "Yes." He simply leaned back, his dark eyes staring directly into the lens as if he could see you through the digital divide. He began to slowly, methodically stroke the line of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched his own reflection.

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your silk shorts, your fingers finding the slick heat he always inspired. Every time he shifted, every time he let out a sharp, rhythmic exhale, you matched him. You spent a small fortune on "Gold Credits" just to make him look at the camera and whisper, "Good girl," a command that sent you over the edge every single time. To you, Choso was a ghost—a beautiful, erotic phantom you’d never touch in the light of day.

The next morning, the "Advanced Anatomy" lecture hall was freezing. You sat in the third row, nursing a black coffee, your mind still hazy with the memory of Choso’s private show. You were scrolling through your notes on the circulatory system when the heavy oak doors swung open.

"Good morning," a voice rumbled.

The coffee cup nearly slipped from your hand. That voice. It was deep, textured, and hauntingly familiar. You looked up, and your heart stopped. Standing at the podium, wearing a charcoal-grey turtleneck and silver-rimmed glasses, was the man from your screen. The messy, dual-pigtail hair was pulled back more neatly, but the mark across his nose was unmistakable.

"Professor Higgins is on medical leave," he said, setting a leather briefcase on the desk. "I’m Choso Kamo. I’ll be taking over your unit on the cardiovascular system."

The irony was a physical weight. You sat through the entire hour in a trance, watching his hands—the same hands you’d seen doing unspeakable things on a webcam—trace the diagram of a human heart on the whiteboard The lecture hall felt like it was shrinking, the oxygen replaced by the heavy, sandalwood scent of the man at the front of the room. You kept your head down, the brim of your hoodie acting as a shield, but your mind was a chaotic loop of the previous night. Every time Choso—Professor Kamo—spoke, the vibration of his voice triggered a phantom touch against your skin.

For the next three days, you became a ghost. You arrived exactly one minute before the lecture started and bolted the second it ended. You stopped sitting in the third row, retreating to the very back where the shadows were deepest.

But Choso was observant. In his "BloodKing_M" persona, he was used to watching for subtle cues, and in the classroom, he was no different. During a lab session on Friday, you were hunched over a microscope, desperately trying to focus on a slide of cardiac muscle fibers.

"The striations are easier to see if you adjust the fine focus, Y/N."

You jumped, your chair screeching against the linoleum. He was standing right behind you. Up close, the silver-rimmed glasses didn't make him look like a teacher; they made him look like a predator playing dress-up. The horizontal mark across his nose seemed to pulse.

"I... I have it, thank you," you stammered, refusing to look up.

"Do you?" He leaned over, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder. The warmth radiating from him was the same heat you’d imagined while curled under your duvet. "You’ve been avoiding my eyes all week. Is my teaching style... unsatisfactory?"

"No! It’s fine. I just... I have a headache." You grabbed your bag and fled the lab before he could say another word, leaving him staring at your vacant stool with a look of calculated curiosity.

That night, you couldn't help yourself. You needed the distance of the screen to feel safe again. You logged on, spent the credits, and waited. When the feed flickered to life, Choso wasn't in his usual sheer shirt. He was wearing the same charcoal turtleneck from the lecture, the top buttons undone.

"I had a strange week," he told the camera, his voice dropping into that gravelly register that made your breath hitch. "A student in my 'day job' keeps running away from me. It makes me wonder what she’s hiding."

Your heart thundered. Did he know? No, it was impossible. There were thousands of viewers. But as your hand slid back into that familiar, aching rhythm, Choso leaned forward, his dark eyes piercing the lens.

"I think she knows my secrets," he whispered, his hand moving to the hem of his shirt. "I think she watches me just like you do. Are you watching right now, little student?"

The coincidence was too sharp, the tension too high. You reached your peak with a shattered gasp, your name for him dying on your lips as the screen went black.

On Monday, you tried to skip. You stayed in the library, tucked into a corner, but a shadow fell over your desk.

"Office hours aren't optional when you're failing my labs," Choso said. He wasn't wearing the glasses today. He looked tired, dangerous, and entirely too much like the man from the screen.

He led you to his private office and locked the door behind him. The click of the deadbolt sounded like a gunshot.

"Sit," he commanded. You sank into the leather chair. He didn't sit behind his desk; he leaned against it, looming over you. "Why do you shake when I get close to you, Y/N? And why did you look so... satisfied... during my stream on Friday night?"

The blood drained from your face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I recognized the username," he rumbled, reaching out to tilt your chin up with a single, gloved finger. "The one who spends a fortune to hear me say 'Good girl.' I tracked the IP. Imagine my surprise when it pointed back to the campus dorms. Specifically, yours."

The silence in the room was electric. You expected judgment, but his gaze was hungry.

"You've been watching me through a glass wall," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Don't you want to know if I'm as real as I look?"

He didn't give you a choice. He turned his laptop around on the desk, the webcam already glowing blue.

"Tonight’s show is going to be different," he said, pulling you up from the chair until you were pressed against the edge of the desk. "They’ve been asking for a guest. I think it’s time I gave them what they paid for."

He clicked 'Start Stream.' The chat began to scroll at light speed, but you couldn't see it. You could only see him. Choso pulled you between his knees, his hands—those large, veined hands—sliding under your skirt.

"Say hello to the class, Y/N," he breathed against your ear.

As he began to touch you, the boundary between your secret world and your reality dissolved. He was methodical, his fingers finding your slick heat with the precision of an anatomist. You clung to his shoulders, your head arching back as he moved with a slow, agonizing rhythm.

"Look at the camera," he commanded, his voice a low vibration that vibrated through your entire body. "Show them how good you're taking it."

When he finally moved to join you, pushing aside his clothes to press his hard length against you, the intensity was overwhelming. This wasn't a digital ghost; this was the weight of him, the scent of him, and the sharp, rhythmic exhales that you had matched for months.

As you both broke under the pressure of the moment, Choso leaned in, whispering a final, gravelly "Good girl" directly into your ear—not for the thousands watching, but only for you.

The desk was cold against your skin, a sharp contrast to the scorching heat of Choso’s body. He didn't stop at the initial rush; he was a man who thrived on endurance, and now that he had his favorite viewer in the flesh, he intended to explore every inch of the "anatomy" he’d been lecturing on.

He hiked your legs up over his broad shoulders, his dark eyes never leaving yours even as he adjusted the laptop to ensure the camera caught the curve of your arched back. The chat was a blurred frantic strobe of white text on the screen, but the only thing that mattered was the weight of Choso’s hands pinning your wrists to the mahogany desk.

"You've spent so many nights touching yourself to my voice," he rasped, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Tell me, Y/N... am I better than the screen?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He drove into you with a slow, agonizingly deep thrust that forced a high, shattered cry from your throat. His movements were rhythmic and punishing, echoing the same deliberate pace he used during his solo streams, but the friction was real now—searing and visceral.

Every time his hips collided with yours, the laptop vibrated, making the digital feed shake. He reached out, his long fingers tangling in your hair to pull your head back, exposing the line of your throat. He began to trail wet, biting kisses down to your collarbone, marking you with the same intensity he brought to his persona.

"Look at them, Y/N," he whispered, his voice dropping to that dangerous, "BloodKing" growl. He forced you to look at the monitor, where thousands of strangers were watching the silhouette of your bodies entwine. "They’re jealous. They’ve been throwing credits at me for months just to get a glimpse of what I’m doing to you right now."

The Taboo of the setting—the locked professor's office, the glowing blue light of the webcam, the risk of a security guard rattling the door—sent a fresh wave of heat through your veins. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your nails digging into the charcoal fabric of his turtleneck.

Choso let out a low, guttural groan, his composure finally fracturing. He abandoned the "performance" for the camera, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his pace became frantic and raw. He was no longer the calculated cam boy or the composed professor; he was a man possessed by the reality of the person he’d only ever seen through a digital divide.

When the final, white-hot wave crashed over both of you, Choso held you tightly, his chest heaving against yours. He reached over and, with a flick of his wrist, ended the stream without a word of goodbye to his subscribers. The sudden silence of the office was deafening, broken only by the sound of your synchronized breathing.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb tracing the horizontal mark across his nose, then moving down to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. The silver-rimmed glasses lay forgotten on the floor.

"I think," he murmured, his voice returning to the quiet, textured tone of the classroom, "we should move the rest of this unit to my apartment. I have much more... advanced equipment there."

He stood up, adjusting his clothes with a practiced ease before offering you his hand. As you took it, the power dynamic shifted once more. He wasn't just a phantom on a screen anymore, and you weren't just a face in the crowd. You were the only one who knew exactly what lay beneath the Professor's charcoal sweater, and he was the only one allowed to see the girl behind the "Gold Credits."

The walk to his car was a blur of adrenaline and stinging skin. Choso led you through the darkened faculty parking lot, his hand a heavy, possessive weight on the small of your back. He didn't speak until the doors of his black sedan clicked shut, sealing you both in a cocoon of leather and the lingering scent of his sandalwood cologne.

"My apartment is ten minutes away," he said, his voice dropping into that low, vibratory register that bypassed your ears and went straight to your core. "Ten minutes for you to decide if you want to walk away, Y/N. Because once we cross that threshold, I’m not just your professor, and I’m not just a man on a screen. I’m yours. Completely."

You didn't need ten minutes. You reached over, your fingers trembling slightly as you traced the thick, horizontal scar across the bridge of his nose. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a brief, vulnerable second before he shifted the car into gear.

His apartment was exactly like his stream backdrop, but more intimate—dimly lit by amber Edison bulbs, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a high-end camera setup in the corner that looked like a shrine to his secret life.

The second the door locked, Choso didn't hesitate. He pulled you against the nearest wall, his body a solid, muscular wall of heat. He stripped off his charcoal turtleneck in one fluid motion, tossing it aside to reveal the full extent of his physique—broad, scarred shoulders and the intricate ink that spiraled down his arms, details the webcam’s compression had always blurred.

"I’ve spent months imagining what you looked like beneath those oversized hoodies in the back of my hall," he muttered, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt. "The way your pulse jumps when I look at you... I could see it from the podium."

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the sprawling bed that sat in the center of the room. He laid you back against the silk sheets—the same ones you had seen him sprawl across at 2:00 a.m.—and stood over you, unbuckling his belt with a slow, agonizing deliberation.

"In class, I taught you about the heart," he whispered, kneeling between your legs. "But tonight, we’re going to focus on the nervous system. Specifically, how much stimulation yours can handle before you break."

He started with his mouth, a devastatingly thorough exploration of your skin. He moved from your collarbone to the sensitive dip of your waist, his stubble grazing your thighs until you were a localized storm of friction and desire. When he finally replaced his lips with his fingers, he was clinical yet cruel, finding the exact pressure points that made your toes curl into the mattress.

"Please," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his dark, messy hair. "Choso, now. Please."

"Patience, Y/N," he rumbled, looking up at you with eyes that were dark with a mix of affection and hunger. "A good student doesn't rush the results."

When he finally merged his body with yours, it was a slow, tectonic shift. He entered you with a steady, relentless force, filling the void that months of digital longing had created. He wasn't performing for the thousands of 'Gold Credit' holders now; he was focused entirely on the hitch in your breath and the way your hips rose to meet his.

He pinned your hands above your head, his large, veined fingers interlocking with yours. The pace increased, a rhythmic, driving intensity that echoed the frantic drumming of your heart. Every thrust was deep and purposeful, a physical manifestation of the obsession that had been building on both sides of the screen.

"You're not watching a phantom anymore," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours, damp with sweat. "Tell me my name. Not the one on the screen."

"Choso," you sobbed, the pleasure peaking into something sharp and blinding. "Choso... please, don't stop."

The sound of your voice saying his real name—not the digital alias, but the name he carried through the halls of the university—seemed to snap the last thread of his professional restraint. Choso’s grip on your wrists tightened, pinning them into the silk pillows as he began to move with a raw, unbridled ferocity. He was no longer the calculated cam boy performing for an audience; he was a man reclaiming the woman who had haunted his thoughts since he first saw her in that freezing lecture hall.

The amber light from the Edison bulbs cast long, dancing shadows across his scarred back as he drove into you. Each thrust was deep and possessive, a silent demand for your total attention. He watched your face with a predatory focus, tracking the way your eyes rolled back and the way your lips parted in a silent, breathless plea.

"I can feel your heart racing, Y/N," he rasped, leaning down so his lips brushed your ear. his voice was a low, textured vibration that sent a fresh wave of heat through your nervous system. "Is it the 'Advanced Anatomy' lesson you wanted? Or is it just me?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He shifted his weight, pulling your legs even higher until your knees were pressed toward your chest, exposing you completely to his gaze. He began to trail wet, biting kisses along your inner thighs, marking the pale skin with dark roses that would serve as a reminder of this night long after the sun rose.

As the tension coiled tighter and tighter within you, Choso slowed his pace, deliberately teasing you with shallow, agonizingly slow movements. He watched as you writhed beneath him, your fingers clawing at the silk sheets in a desperate search for friction.

"Look at me," he commanded, his thumb coming up to trace the horizontal mark across his nose.

When you forced your eyes open, you saw the dark, swirling hunger in his gaze. He looked like a man possessed. "Tell me you're mine," he rumbled. "Not just a viewer. Not just a student. Tell me you belong here, in this bed, with me."

"I'm yours," you gasped, the words caught in the back of your throat as he suddenly surged forward, filling you completely. "Choso, I’m yours."

The confession was the catalyst. He began to move with a frantic, rhythmic intensity, his breath hitching in time with yours. The room seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but the scent of sandalwood, the friction of skin on skin, and the overwhelming proximity of the man you had worshipped from a distance.

When the peak finally hit, it was a blinding, white-hot explosion that shattered your senses. You clung to his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his back as you called out his name one last time. Choso followed you almost immediately, his body tensing into a rigid cord of muscle before he collapsed against you, his forehead resting in the crook of your neck.

The silence that followed was heavy and saturated with the aftermath of their collision. Choso didn't pull away; he stayed joined to you, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. After a long moment, he shifted, pulling the heavy duvet over both of you and tucking your head under his chin.

"You're staying," he murmured, his voice thick with a possessive warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "I have a lot more to teach you before our next lecture, and I don't think ten minutes is going to be nearly enough."

As you drifted off to sleep, the last thing you felt was the press of his lips against your forehead and the steady, grounding rhythm of his heart—the same heart you had spent hours studying on a whiteboard, now beating only for you.

xo iris

A/N: help me out on the art creds cus they were all found on pinterest | I didn't proof-read so if there are any mistakes, pretend they aren't there.. Also hey guys! im back.. Ish? I recently got my own place and it's been rough, but this is an old fic I wrote before I was kicked out so just enjoy and ill write some more!

satoru gojo x fem reader⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Summary: Gojo and you are classmates in law school, who also have an arrangement for casual sex. Which eventually changes.

Warnings: explicit sexual content

A/N: my other works ✎ masterlist (all art credits at the end)

The fluorescent hum of the university library was the soundtrack to your downfall. Across the mahogany table, there was gojo. He was sprawled in a chair that was far too small for his six-foot-three frame. His silver hair was a mess from him constantly running his fingers through it, and his eyes low as he scanned a law textbook.

He was the campus golden boy—wealthy, impossibly handsome, and possessed an arrogance that should have been off-putting but was instead magnetic.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that made the hair on your arms stand up. He didn't look up from his book. "If you keep staring at my mouth, I’m going to have to do something about it. And we really need to finish this brief."

"I was looking at the coffee stain on your collar," you lied, your heart hammering.

He finally looked up to reveal those startling, intriguing blue eyes. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face. "Liar. Pack your bags, we’re going to my dorm. Now."

It had started sophomore year. A late-night study session for a mid-term turned into a heated debate, which turned into a dares, which turned into Satoru pinning you against his dorm room door.

The deal was simple and casual. No strings. No jealousy. Just two friends who were incredibly good at making each other forget the stress of law school.

Back in his room, the door hadn't even clicked shut before Satoru’s hands were on you. He was efficient and demanding. He backed you up against the edge of his desk, scattering highlighters and notebooks to the floor.

"You've been distracting me all day," he growled against the skin of your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

He stripped you with a frantic energy, his large hands warm against your cold skin. Satoru was a man who took up space; he dominated the room, and he certainly dominated the bed. When he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist, the friction was immediate.

He laid you on his bed, his body a heavy, welcome weight. He was vocal, his breath hitching as he moved against you, his eyes never leaving yours. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he pushed deeper.

"Answer me, Y/N," he rumbled, his voice dropping to a gravelly register that vibrated through your very bones. He leaned down, his chest pressing firmly against yours, trapping you between the mattress and his solid weight. "You like it when I don't give you a choice, don't you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

He rewarded your honesty with a deep, punishing kiss that tasted like desperation. His hands, usually so steady and controlled, were frantic now. He pulled back just enough to watch your expression as he increased the pace, his thumb still hooked over your bottom lip, tugging it down to keep your mouth open for him. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low, rough vibration. He grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them flat against the mattress above your head with just one of his hands. His grip was firm, a silent reminder of the physical disparity between you. "I want to see your eyes when you lose it."

His pace became relentless, a blurring friction that made your back arch off the sheets. He was watching you with a predatory intensity, his blue eyes glowing in the dim light of his desk lamp. Every gasp that left your lips seemed to fuel him, his own breath hitching as he leaned down to bite the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck.

"Satoru, please," you whimpered, your head tossing back.

"Please what, Y/N?" he hissed against your ear, his teeth grazing the lobe. "Tell me exactly what you want. No casual lies tonight."

He released your wrists only to slide his hands beneath your hips, tilting you up to meet him even deeper. The intimacy was staggering, a raw, friction-filled heat that threatened to shatter the very foundation of your "no strings" agreement.

"I want you to stop pretending," you choked out, your voice breaking as he drove into you with a slow, agonizingly deep deliberate-ness. "I want you to ruin me."

A dark, low chuckle vibrated against your collarbone—a sound that was more growl than laugh. "Careful what you wish for, Y/N. I’ve been holding back for months so I wouldn't break our little 'arrangement'."

He shifted, his massive hands sliding from your hips to your thighs, forcing them wider until the stretch was a delicious ache. He abandoned all pretense of gentleness. The rhythm became a frantic, punishing friction, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing off the sterile dorm walls. Satoru was a storm—all heat and hard muscle—his silver hair falling into his eyes, which were blown wide and dark with a hunger that wasn't just physical.

He leaned down, his sweat-slicked chest sliding against yours, and captured your mouth in a kiss that tasted like iron and obsession. He wasn't just taking; he was reclaiming. His tongue tangled with yours, demanding and territorial, while his fingers dug into the mattress on either side of your head, the bed frame groaning under his power.

"You’re mine," he ground out against your lips, the words a jagged edge. "In this room, under me, you don't belong to the law review or your career. You’re just mine."

The friction built into a white-hot crescendo, a tension so tight it felt like a wire snapping. Your vision blurred, the edges of the room fading until there was nothing but the scent of his expensive cologne and the feeling of him filling every void. When your climax finally hit, it was violent—a total surrender that left you sobbing his name into the crook of his neck.

Satoru let out a wrecked, guttural sound, his head dropping to your shoulder as he followed you over the edge. He held you with a crushing force, his heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird, refusing to let go, while still keeping his length inside of you

For a long minute, the only sound was the jagged wreck of your shared breathing. He didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted his weight, burying his face in your hair, his hands still trembling slightly where they held your waist.

"Casual, right?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and stripped of its usual arrogance. He pulled back just enough to look at you, those celestial eyes searching yours for a lie. "Tell me again how this doesn't mean anything, Y/N. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not terrified of how much I want to keep you like this."

"I can't," you whispered, your voice a mere thread. You tried to look away, but he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze back to his.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping back into that dangerous, velvety register. "Don't hide now. Not after that."

He shifted, the friction of his skin against yours reigniting a fire you thought had just been extinguished. He trailed his lips down the curve of your jaw, lingering at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. "You think I don't notice the way you look at me when we’re in the library? You think I don't feel the way your heart speeds up when I just sit next to you?"

He nipped at your pulse point, a sharp sting that made your hips instinctively jerk against his. He let out a low, dark hum of approval.

"I’m tired of the rules, Y/N," he growled, his hand sliding down from your chin to wrap firmly around your throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you hyper-aware of his dominance. "I’m tired of pretending I want to leave my mark on every inch of you so every other guy in that law school knows exactly who you belong to."

His eyes were glowing, a predatory, celestial blue that seemed to strip away every defense you had left. He leaned down, his breath hot against your mouth.

"Say it," he hissed, his grip tightening just a fraction. "Tell me you’re done with the lies. Tell me you want me to stay. Not just for tonight, and not just because you’re stressed."

"Satoru..." you breathed, your hands coming up to clutch his forearms.

"Say it, and I’ll show you exactly how much I’ve been holding back," he promised, a wicked, promise-filled smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I’ll make you forget there was ever a deal in the first place. I’ll make sure the only name you can scream for the rest of the night is mine."

The room felt smaller, the air vibrating with the sheer force of his focus. You were pinned beneath him, your lungs struggling to catch up with the frantic rhythm he’d just set, but Satoru wasn't finished. He never was.

He thrived on the edge, and right now, he was pushing you right over it.

"I’m done," you finally choked out, the admission tearing from your throat. "I’m done with the rules, Satoru. I want... I want all of it."

The look that crossed his face wasn't just triumph; it was something hungrier, something almost feral. He let out a low,jagged breath and suddenly shifted, flipping you over in one fluid, powerful motion until you were pressed chest-down against the cool, tangled sheets. The sudden change of position made your head spin, but before you could even gasp,his weight was back, heavy and absolute, pinning you to the mattress.

"Good girl," he growled into the shell of your ear, his voice a dark, gravelly caress.

He didn't give you a moment to recover. His hands, massive and warm, found your wrists again, pulling them behind your back and holding them there with a single, crushing grip. With his free hand, he gripped the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there while he leaned down to bite the slope of your shoulder.

"If we're throwing out the contract, Y/N, then I’m taking everything," he hissed, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your toes curl. "No more 'casual.' No more walking away when the sun comes up."

He moved then, his body a relentless force as he reclaimed the space between your thighs. The friction was different this time—sharper, more desperate. He wasn't just seeking his own release; he was seeking a total surrender. Every time he drove into you, his chest pressed into your back, the sheer heat of him seeping into your pores.

"Look at the wall," he commanded, his voice vibrating through your spine. "See your shadow? See how I’m holding you?I want you to remember this every time you try to look at me across that library table tomorrow."

You let out a broken, high-pitched moan, your forehead pressing into the pillow as the tension coiled again, tighter and hotter than before. Satoru’s pace became a blur of silver hair and hard muscle, his breath coming in harsh, rhythmic hitches against your neck. He was vocal now, swearing under his breath in a way that made your blood turn to molten lead.

"You’re not going anywhere," he rasped, his grip on your wrists tightening as he reached his limit. "Tell me you're mine.Tell me."

"I'm yours," you sobbed, the words muffled by the bedding but clear enough for him. "Satoru, please—"

The word "please" was the final thread snapping in his restraint. Satoru let out a sound that was pure, unadulterated hunger—a low, distorted growl that vibrated through your spine and settled deep in your marrow. He didn't just meet your plea; he crushed it.

He released your wrists, but only to rake his nails lightly down your back before his hands clamped onto your hips, his fingers bruising the pale skin as he hauled you upward, angling your body to take every bit of him. The friction was agonizingly perfect, a rhythmic, driving force that made the world beyond the edges of the mattress cease to exist.

"Mine," he repeated, the word a physical brand against the nape of your neck. "Every frantic breath, every late-night thought... I’m taking it all, Y/N."

He leaned over you, his long frame caging you in, his sweat dripping onto your shoulder blades. He reached down, his large hand sliding beneath your stomach to find the center of your heat, his fingers working in a torturous synchronization with his lower body. The dual sensation was too much—a sensory overload that had you clawing at the headboard, your back arching like a bow string pulled to the point of breaking.

"Satoru, I can't—" you gasped, your voice failing as the internal coil tightened into a blinding knot.

"You can," he countered, his voice dropping to a jagged, dark silk. He bit the sensitive tendon of your neck, his hips stuttering into a frantic, final pace. "Take it. Take all of it. I want to feel you shatter against me."

The explosion was violent. Your vision whited out, your muscles seizing in a rhythmic, helpless surrender that pulled a wrecked, high-pitched cry from your lungs. You felt him follow immediately after—a heavy, pulsing heat that seemed to pour directly into your soul. Satoru groaned your name, his forehead dropping against the back of your head, his entire body shuddering with the force of a release he’d clearly been denying himself for months.

For a long time, the only sound was the frantic ticking of the clock on his desk and the wet, heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Satoru didn't move; he stayed heavy and protective over you, his breath gradually slowing from a gallop to a steady rhythm against your skin.

Slowly, he shifted, rolling onto his side but pulling you back with him, tucking your spine firmly against his chest. His arm, thick with muscle, draped over your waist, pinning you to him as if he expected you to bolt the moment your head cleared.

He pressed a lingering, surprisingly tender kiss to the back of your shoulder, his silver hair tickling your skin.

"Don't even think about getting up," he murmured, his voice still rough from the screaming. "The library can wait. Law Review can wait. Tomorrow, everyone is going to see those marks on your neck and know exactly why you’re tired."

He tightened his hold, his chin resting on your head. "And if you try to call this 'casual' when we wake up, Y/N... I’ll just have to start all over again until you learn your lesson."

xo iris

A/N: art cred jackcherrii on x (all found on pinterest) | I didn't proof-read so if there are any mistakes pretend they aren't there.. 👀 I hope you guys liked this im still working on the fratjo one so :(

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ nerd!gojo x fem reader

Summary: you're next door neighbors with gojo, and sooner or later you feel the excitement of teasing and overstimulating him.

Warnings: explicit sexual content & sadistic behavior

A/N: my other works ╰┈➤ masterlist

you were currently moving into a new apartment complex after having too many issues at your old one. You were sick of finding leaks or hearing your loud neighbors in the middle of the night, screaming about their relationship issues. . 

“damn it!” you shouted under your breath in front of the apartment complex door, as it shut in your face.

“does no one know how to hold a door for anyone anymore?” you thought while you put down the heavy box you were carrying, so you could open the door for yourself. Until you felt a presence behind you. 

you snapped your head back to find yourself staring at a tall man who looked like he hadn’t seen the sun for ages, perchance he hadn’t even had the chance to shower yet either .

you peaked down seeing he was holding a bag with instant ramen inside.

“yikes.” you thought.

“s-sorry, i’m in your way let me move” you spoke politely to the man with the slightest bit of hope that he would help you carry your boxes to your apartment. 

you were wrong. 

he didn’t speak a word to you, as soon as you stepped out the way he zoomed right past and immediately stepped onto the elevator. 

“what an asshole.!” you mumble grabbing the heavy box making your way through the door. 

Not to long after bumping into the rude man you had finally finished bringing all of your boxes up into your apartment.

you sighed in relief that it was over “phew, i need a drink.” 

You soon then called up your best friend Shoko. You had met Shoko your freshman year of college she was only a year older than you but honestly you guys just clicked immediately, even though you guys had very different schedules and responsibilities the both of you always made the effort to hang out and take care of each other. 

(On the phone)

You: SHOOKKOOO! 

Shoko: what is it now. 

You: well I just finished moving all my stuff in and well.. i need a drink.. can we please go get drinks tonight.

Shoko: Y/N i have work tomorrow morning. 

You: Okay yes, and so do i! it’s only 6 we can leave the bar around 8.. how does that sound? 

Shoko: eh, okay fine but i’m not drinking a lot. I’ll pick you up in 30.

*beep*

You sighed once more as you got up to freshen up before you left.

Shoko soon arrived

“Woah!” Shoko said looking stunned at what you were wearing.

“What?! am i doing to much..? I just wanted to feel cute” you spoke while showing her your outfit, which was a short lanky black dress with a quite low neckline that showed  off your cleavage, and to compliment the dress you had the cutest heals to match with it. 

“No, no it’s really hot Y/N” shoko chuckled then spoke again “hey, if i knew you were going to go all out i would’ve too.” she said sounding a bit disappointed considering she had on jeans and an off the shoulder long sleeve. 

“Shoko.. just borrow one of my dresses they are in that box over there” you pointed at the box on your bed.

As you began to help shoko out with her outfit you guys eventually landed on this flowy halter dress that complimented her figure well. 

“okay are we ready now..” you shrugged while waiting at the front door, as shoko made her finishing touches 

“okay let’s go” shoko spoke softly 

9:40 PM

“y/n let’s go.” Shoko was serious but you weren’t. You were drunk and didn’t want to leave just yet. That was until shoko dragged you out and drove you back home.

“okay y/n i can’t walk you all the way to your apartment but you should be sober enough to get there right?” shoko questioned 

“y-yu.. yeah!” you slurred out as you stepped out.

“okay.. love you be careful!” shoko said as she drove away leaving you stumbling inside. you had made it successfully to your floor, but

you struggled to get the key out from your pocket. To your surprise the door already seemed unlocked so you stepped in without question. 

As you walked around the house it seemed unfamiliar. No boxes in sight. Slight smell of pizza and instant noodles, and it was quite messy like a man was living here. You payed no mind to it though. 

“n~ngh” you heard from your bedroom, or so you thought.

“hah~ mphm “ you kept hearing—until your drunk self decided to go investigate, you looked down the hall to see the door slightly cracked open with a dim light on. As you crept closer you kept hearing “f-fuck~ ngh mphm” 

you were curious on what the mysterious noise was, but as soon as you opened the door your eyes are met with another’s.

Deep blue eyes staring back at you. Glasses fogged up falling of his face, sitting back in a gaming chair with the computer on. You peer down to his lap only to find him not clothed and his length in his hand stroking himself. 

“WHAA! G-GET OUT!” the blue eyed boy spoke tripping on himself trying to pull his pants back up

“i-i nunn” you stumbled on your words as you looked up at the computer screen only to find a porno playing with the volume semi loud. 

he noticed you looking and stumbled around,face flushed all the way to his ears as he was trying to cover up what you had witnessed.

“h-hey can you not jerk off in my house i- have a headache i wanna lay down”you spoke as you started to strip and layed in the man’s bed getting comfortable in sheets that were not yours

“H~HEY I WA~ THATS NOT WHAT I WAS DOING .. AN~ AND THIS IS MY APARTMENT.. AND AND PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON PLEASE.. GET OUT..” the man stuttered and trampled all on his words with his face  fully flushed from the embarrassing scene and the fact you’re basically naked in his bed. 

“who~ partment? me? night.” you slurred out  as you decided to drift off

“HEY HEY!” the white haired boy spoke trying to wake you with only his voice . He eventually was defeated and gave up. He had let you stay in his bed while he slept on the couch.

10:27 AM

“ugh” you groaned as the sun glared in your face. 

“a-are you finally awake…” an unfamiliar voice you heard coming from the floor of the room.

You sat up immediately and made eye contact with the blue eyed boy sitting with his knees to his chest staring back at you.

“WHA…?” you questioned in panic, looking down at yourself you were wearing nothing but a bra and underwear “HOW DRUNK DID I GET LAST NIGHT?!” you wondered. 

there were so many thoughts were racing through your mind right now—like how did you get home, or if you had sex with the random boy who lived in your apartment complex. 

“S-SO.. how did i end up here!?” you questioned the boy who seemed oddly nervous.

“w-well you kind of broke in..” his voice cracked.

“broke in?” no way you could’ve broke in you thought “b-but this is my apartment 345?” you told the boy

“heh, i- i mean i know you just moved in but.. this is my apartment 344..” he spoke sounding nervous to correct you.

“o-oh! I-IM SO SORRY” you apologized and stood up to bow to show you how sorry you were, forgetting you were basically naked.

“A~AH! N-NO ITS OKAY REALLY.” the boys face flushed as he turned his face away from you.

“n-no please i’m really sorry.” you spoke getting down on the floor too grabbing the boys hands trying to be sincere.

“p~please trust me it’s really fine!” he trembled still not making eye contact with you or the rest of your body.

“no! it’s not okay! what can i do? how can i repay you for this!” you were rambling 

“R~REPAY ME? m-maybe put c-clothes on!” he spoke and pulled his hands back to cover his face. 

“oh.” you spoke and looked down at your bare body less than 3 feet away from his, you could see he was trembling and immediately stood up to put something on.

“hey! can i borrow a shirt? i just don’t wanna wear my dress.” you asked the boy who was still on the floor covering his face.

“g-go ahead, just p-please get dressed..” the boy whimpered out. 

You were going through the boys closet noticing how he only had these corny shirts with quotes saying “i paused my game to be here!” or some quote about science—you were in disgust, but you had no other choice.

Grabbing the shirt that said “i paused my game to be here!” you threw it on—it fit like a dress on you. 

“okay done!” you said which claimed you were dressed

“o-okay.” he spoke dropping his hands from his face and standing up. 

“hey soo, you’re like my neighbor right! what’s your name? i at least wanna know who’s bed i slept in last night!” you laughed.

He wasn’t laughing instead he stood there putting on his glasses, face still flushed. “i’m gojo.. satoru gojo. i live here in apartment 344.” he spoke sternly while looking at the ground.

“hmm.. gojo?.. gojo, gojo.. satoru gojo.” you spoke his name like it was a question.

“s-stop saying my name like that!” he coved his face again.

“o-oops sorry, i’m y/n! i live exactly next door to you in 345! i also just slept in your bed but you already know that..” you tried to make the situation brighter but instead the air went quiet and just felt awkward..

“um okay! sorry for this again i’ll wash and return your shirt for you.” you started to walk out with your belongings until he stopped you and said “w-wait.. d-don’t wash that shirt.”

“what.” you stood in disgust 

“n-no not like that j-just i don’t want the text to get ruined so i-i wash that one by hand! i can wash it.. j-just return it to me whenever..” he stood looking embarrassed by the statement.

“a-alright then.. see you gojo.” you walked out feeling awkward, which was weird for you. 

You’d never felt that awkward, especially with a man. Usually you were an outgoing person but with him he made your insides twitch. Maybe it was the fact he was weird, or maybe it was his loser glasses he wore, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding at the thought of the odd boy. 

a couple hours had passed after returning back from gojos apartment.

—Standing looking at yourself in the mirror with the boys shirt on. you oddly smelled it out of curiosity. A warm manly musk smell, not in a dirty, gross way but in a way where you knew this was a man’s shirt. 

“whatever.” you thought trying to get the weird man out of your head but simply couldn’t. “i-i just need a shower!” you were speaking to yourself as you slipped your clothes off and stepped into the shower.

The only thoughts that were going through your head was “what noises he would make” or how pathetic he would look under you. You felt like a pervert for thinking these perverted thoughts. 

Soon later after your shower you looked down at your phone finally to see

30 missed called from your coworker.

“fuck.” you realized you missed work. 

You called your boss and pretended to be sick and to your surprise it worked and your boss was surprisingly very worried about you so he sent your coworker to come down and help you out with your “fever”. 

You didn’t work a hard job, all you necessarily did was take calls and deliver papers a usual office job. You were friends with a few coworkers, but you were quite close with your coworker choso. A tall built man with hair down to his shoulders, although he was quite shy he soon opened up to you. he was a good man. You were about 100% sure that choso was the one who was coming over to “take care” of you because everyone in the workplace building knew you guys were close. 

*knock, knock*

“y/n open up its choso.” you heard from the other side of the front door as your opening it.

“hey choso how are u?” you asked

“so… im guessing youre not sick? cause you look fine to me.” choso spoke seeming disappointed.

“well im okay i just slept in and came up with an excuse.” you said in an annoyed tone as you let him in. You noticed he was holding a bag containing medicine and a rag. 

“aw you care about me!” you cooed

“shut up, i was just worried about the person i work with.” he snapped back, but noticed your figure. He saw how the shirt you wore was odd “so, do you always wear shirts like that around the house?” he questioned.

“w-what?!” you said and looked down at yourself forgetting that you had put gojo’s shirt back on. “n-no i actually don’t wear this at all.. matter of fact it’s not even mine.” you blurted out and crossed your arms 

“oh, so it’s just one of your boy toys shirts?” choso said seeming intrigued.

“b-boy toy?! EXCUSE ME?! i don’t have any boy toys and this is my neighbors shirt.” you were annoyed at the thought that choso saw you like that.

“wow. good job y/n. just moved in and already hooked up with the neighbor, truly i’m shocked” choso spoke ironically 

“fuck you choso. I didn’t fuck my neighbor, just kinda broke into his house drunk and..” you paused—right now you were recalling what happened last night and you felt like more went down than what you had thought.. 

“oh my fucking god choso.” you freaked out

“what is it?” he said curiously 

“i think.. when i broke in, i caught him jerking off.. i don’t know if im remembering it wrong or if it was a dream but i vividly recall that happening.” you said feeling embarrassed 

“oh my god bro.” choso broke out into laughter 

“this is not funny.. oh my god that’s why he was so awkward and embarrassed.. choso i feel so bad. what do i do?” you whimpered

“look y/n if my neighbor caught me jerking off i would hope that they forget about it and never bring it up again.. just be normal around him like nothing happened.. kay?” choso said seriously 

“alright…” you responded still trying to wrap your mind around what you had just remembered “well y/n i’m gonna head out, i gotta get back to work.. i’ll let them know you will be back tomorrow.” choso spoke while you were both walking towards the front door. “alright then i’ll see you later.” you said to choso at the frame of your door, noticing that gojo was also outside of his apartment taking out trash. “fuck, he probably thinks i have boy toys too.” you thought to yourself as you made eye contact with gojo giving him a polite smile. Immediately he rushed back into his apartment and shut the door.  “okay well fuck me too then.” you said aloud and also walked back into your apartment. 

It had been about 3 months since you’ve moved and you also hadn't returned the shirt that you borrowed. You would rarely see gojo anyways—the only times you would ever see him is early in the mornings or late at night, but that was very rare. He was still a mystery to you, only until.

*knock ,knock*

you heard coming from the front door

“who is it?” you phrased

“a-ah it’s me.. it’s gojo.” you heard the voice from the other side tremble

As you were opening the door you had noticed him holding a pile of books and a laptop that was covered in what seemed to be an energy drink.

“s-soo-“ you started to speak before the boy cut you off

“i- i just need to borrow a computer for a couple hours please..” the boy seemed frantic, his hands shaking, and the massive eye-bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days.

“yeah sure, but what for.?” you questioned

“i have this major assignment due tonight and i spilled monster all over my computer and and you were just the closest person i didn’t know what else to do..” the boy rambled but you were stuck on the fact he was still doing schoolwork.

“wait. y-your still in college?” you said confused

“yes.. im working to get my doctoral degree.” the boy spoke in a low monotone voice

“oh! so you’re like really smart, huh? i only got my bachelors ..” you replied with a small giggle.

“i- i mean i guess im pretty smart i just work hard for what i want..” he spoke once more while rubbing the back of his neck seeming nervous

“o-oh! let me get my laptop for you.” said you as you dashed off into your room to grab the laptop. While you were handing the laptop to him you spoke again “um, hey, i think i’d feel more comfortable if you used my laptop in my apartment.. i just don’t want you to spill monster on mine” you chuckled but honestly you were serious.

“t-that’s okay.. can i sit here..” the boy questioned as he pushed his glasses up his face

“go ahead make yourself at home!” you lastly spoke before the boy immediately locked in on his work.

9:28 PM

It was getting late. Gojo was still in your apartment living room typing away on your computer while you sat on your couch and watched.

Gojo could feel your eyes on him after every click he would make or after every page he turned. “are you going to watch me the whole time.” the boy gulped

“i don’t know, maybe? you just look so” you took a pause before you spoke again. “so pathetic?” you questioned yourself “no maybe lame.. i don’t know i-“ you paused once more as you glanced back to the man.

His face completely flushed, he had this ruined look to him . You watched his every move. You saw how his body stiffened up and how his hands slowly move up to his face to hide how flustered he was. “d-don’t say those things..” he managed to get out.

Immediately you were intrigued on how his mind worked and what kind of sick things he was into.

“why? does it hurt your feelings, huh?” you taunted him feeling excited.

“-no it doesn’t.. I just can’t focus..” the white haired boy huffed out.

You kept going— throwing out degrading words and insults at him while making your way over next to him. His face was completely flushed in a dream burgundy color, glasses slipping off his face, and huffing out air like he could barely take it. 

you hovered over him while he fell back, hitting the floor. 

“w-what are you doing?” he spoke with his voice cracking seeming terrified, but yet he noticed your figure and how nicely your shirt wrapped around your bust, slightly showing the right amount of cleavage.

“h-hey i have to finish this assignment it’s due in 3 hours.” he mumbled avoiding eye contact with you.

“look at me” you demanded 

he complied, immediately snapping his head back making eye contact, his face was pathetic from the arousal of being degraded. you eventually broke eye contact. your eyes traced his body, as you peered down, looking at his sweats you see he’s hard.

extremely hard.

“getting hard over a few mean words ?” you teased while feeling on his length. 

“mph~” the noise fell from the boys mouth as his length twitched under your hand

“does that feel good?” you said with a dangerous grin in your face knowing you were enjoying the scene. 

he nodded, instinctively.

the air in the living room was thick with frantic energy cause of his deadline.

gojo’s chest heaved, his ribs pressing against his thin shirt as he struggled to maintain some dignity while your hand firmly cupped the undeniable proof of his arousal through his sweats.

“answer me, satoru,” you purred, using his first name like a physical touch. “does it feel good being handled like this by the neighbor who caught you playing with yourself?”

“y-yes,” he choked out, giving you an expression of embarrassment knowing that you remembered that night. his head fell back against the leg of the coffee table. his glasses finally slid off, clattering onto the hardwood, leaving his striking blue eyes exposed and unfocused. “please... I—I’m supposed to be working.”

“the assignment can wait. you’re already distracted, aren't you?” you didn't give him a choice, reaching for the drawstring of his pants and tugging.

he let out a sharp, hitching breath as you freed him, his length springing forward, slick and pulsing. He was large, far more than his lanky frame suggested, and the sight of him—pale, trembling, and completely at your mercy—sent a surge of heat through your own core.

you leaned down, your hair brushing against his stomach, and took him into your hand. the contact made his hips jerk off the floor. “ngh~! y/n… wait, I—mphm!”

you silenced him by leaning in, not for a kiss, but to whisper against his reddened ear. “you’re so loud for someone so shy. do you want the other neighbors to hear what a mess you are?”

gojo’s hands flew to his mouth, teeth sinking into his knuckles to stifle a sob-like moan as you began to stroke him. your thumb ran over his sensitive tip, catching the beads of pre-cum that was gathering there. he was incredibly sensitive; every slide of your palm made his toes curl and his back arch.

“look at you,” you teased, increasing the pace, your eyes locked on his face. “a future doctor, reduced to a shivering ball of lust on my floor because I’m touching him. pathetic.”

the word seemed to break something in him. his eyes blew wide, a frantic, desperate blue, and his hand reached out, gripping your forearm with surprising strength. he wasn't pushing you away; he was pulling you closer, his hips beginning to meet your hand in a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm.

“I-I can’t... stop, don’t stop,” he gasped through his fingers. “more. please, call me that again.”

“you like being my pathetic little neighbor, don't you, Satoru?” You shifted, now straddling his thighs, the friction against your center made your voice drop an octave. you leaned over him, your cleavage pressing against his chest, and used your free hand to tilt his chin up.

he was a wreck—his face a dark, feverish burgundy , his breath coming in short, jagged bursts. “I... I do. God, I do.”

you accelerated the friction, your rings catching slightly against his skin, a sharp contrast that made him hiss in pleasure. you could feel the tension building in his thighs, his entire body coiling like a spring.

“cum for me then,” you commanded, your voice low and  demanding. “show me how much of a mess you can make.”

gojo let out a broken, strangled cry, his eyes rolling back as his climax hit. he buckled underneath you, his grip on your arm tightening painfully as he let himself go.

 the heat of him coating your hand and splashing against his own stomach. You stayed like that for a long moment looking every bit the "ruined" man you had imagined in the shower.

he didn't pull away. If anything, the weight of your body on his thighs and the slick heat on your palm seemed to ground him in the most primal way possible. 

gojo’s head was still fallen on the floor, his throat working as he swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

“you're a mess, Satoru," you whispered, shifting your weight so your center pressed firmly against the hard muscle of his leg. The friction through your thin clothing was electric. "look at what you did to yourself just because I called you a few names."

“you... you started it," he panted, his eyes flickering open. without his glasses, his gaze was raw—a piercing, watery blue that looked both terrified and utterly captivated. he reached out, his long, trembling fingers hovering near your waist before finally sinking into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you close against his chest. “you can't... you can't just stop there. not after that."

“oh? Is the honor student demanding more?" you teased, but your own breath was hitching.

you reached behind you, catching the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head in one quick motion, tossing it onto the sofa. You soon slowly took off your shorts revealing your lace bra and panties, the cool air of the apartment hit your skin—until Gojo’s hands found your hips.

“please," he whimpered, the sound vibrated against your collarbone as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “y/n… please."

you didn't make him beg much longer. you reached down, sliding your panties off and tossing them aside before guiding him toward you. he was still semi-hard, but rebounded instantly from the contact of your skin against his. when you lined him up and sank down onto him, he let out a sound that was half-sob, half-growl, his fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips.

“ngh~god, you're... you're so warm," 

he gasped, his head falling back against the hardwood floor once more with a dull thud he didn't even seem to feel.

you began to move, your hands placed on his chest, feeling his heart pound like a trapped bird, against his ribs. he was clumsy at first, his hips jerking up to meet you with a desperate, uncoordinated hunger that showed just how little experience he had, or at least, how much pent-up frustration he had.

“slow down," you commanded, leaning over to nip at his jawline. “I’m in charge here, remember?"

“yes... yes, ma'am," he choked out, his face flushing in an even deeper shade of red. the "ma'am" came out as a broken breath, but he obeyed, forcing his movements to follow your lead.

the rhythm became surprisingly sweet. every time you bottomed out, he let out a high, stuttering moan that echoed in the quiet apartment. 

You watched him. You watched the way his white hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat or the way his lips stayed parted as he fought for air. 

he looked ruined, a perfect, brilliant mind completely unraveled by the simple friction of your bodies.

as the tension built up in your gut, you leaned down, whispering more "pathetic" things into his ear. You saw how addicted he was to you, how he’d never finish that paper because he’d be too busy thinking about this.

that was his breaking point. Gojo’s hands flew from your hips to your back, pulling you down into a crushing embrace as he surged upward. his pace turned frantic, his breath hitching into a rhythmic “hah—ngh~y/n!”

Gojo’s self-control snapped like a dry twig. his hands, which had been trembling with hesitation earlier, now clamped onto your waist with a bruising strength, dragging you down so your chests collided. the "good student" was gone, and now replaced by a man desperate to lose himself in the friction that you were providing.

"I can't... I can't think when you do that," he groaned, his voice dropping into a low tone. “call me that again. tell me how... how much of a mess I am for you."

you leaned down, your lips grazing his heated ear as you sank onto him again, taking every inch of him. “you’re pathetic, Satoru. look at you, shaking underneath your neighbor while your degree sits unfinished on the table. you’re so desperate for me, aren't you?"

A choked, wet sob escaped him as he thrusted upward, his hips meeting yours with a forceful, rhythmic drive. the sound of your bodies hitting, the slick, wet slap of skin against skin—echoed through the quiet living room. Gojo’s head thrashed back against the floor, his eyes rolling back until only the whites showed, his mouth hanging open as he panted.

he was sensitive. With every bounce or grind, his stomach muscles rippled and tightened under you, and his fingers dug into your hips, leaving pale marks that would surely turn into bruises by morning. he was no longer just following your lead; he was chasing a release.

”y/n… ngh~! too much... it’s too much," he stammered, his breath hitching as his grip tightened. he wrapped his long legs around your waist, locking you in place so he could thrust deeper. the friction was intense, a burning heat that made your stomach build knots.

you watched his face—the way his white eyelashes fluttered and the way his adam’s apple moved as he swallowed back a scream. He looked completely undone.

“don't you dare close your eyes," you commanded, your own voice trembling now. “look at what you’re doing."

he forced his eyes open, those piercing blue orbs blown wide with lust and a touch of madness. the sight of you, flushed, naked, and taking him so completely—was his final undoing. his back arched off the floor, his chest heaving, a cry ripped from his throat as he buckled underneath you, his entire frame shuddering as he came, a hot, pulsing sensation that seemed to go on forever.

you collapsed against him, your own climax hitting you in waves that left you dizzy. Gojo’s arms wrapped around you, holding you with a desperate, crushing grip as he sobbed into your shoulder, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of a release he clearly hadn't expected to be so violent.

the silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the ragged huffing of your breath and the faint, rhythmicclick-clack of the radiator in the corner. Gojo was pinned beneath you, his limbs sprawled out like a fallen star, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as if he were trying to calculate the physics of how his life had just derailed in under thirty minutes.

“the... the laptop," he wheezed, his voice sounding like it had been dragged through dirt.

“still on the table, Satoru," you murmured, shifting your weight. you felt him twitch, a sensitive aftershock reaction that made a smug grin spread across your face.

you sat up, reaching for your discarded clothes to wipe yourself off, completely unbothered.

 Gojo, however, looked like he was having a spiritual crisis. he scrambled to sit up, his face still a bright shade of red that clashed violently with his white hair. he fumbled around on the floor until his fingers brushed his glasses. He shoved them onto his face, only to realize one lens was smudged with a thumbprint.

"I... I have to..." he gestured toward the computer, his hands shaking so hard he looked like he was vibrating.

“you have two hours, einstein. better get to it," you said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. You grabbed two glasses of water for the both of you. 

You returned to find him hunched over the laptop in his half-hitched sweats, typing with a force that suggested his life depended on it.

You leaned against the wall nearby, sipping your water and watching him. 

the "pathetic" gamer boy was gone, and now replaced by a man possessed. he didn't look up, but his ears went pink again when you spoke.

“you know, for someone who 'works hard for what he wants,' you sure went down easy."

Gojo’s fingers froze on the keys for a split second. A choked, embarrassed noise escaped his throat—something between a giggle and a sob. “y/n, please. If I don't finish this assignment, I’m going to fail this module, and it’ll be... it'll be because of you.”

“is that a thank you or an accusation?" You questioned

“both," he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, though he couldn't hide the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “definitely both."

11:30 PM

the adrenaline from the sex had worn off, leaving a heavy, comfortable silence in the apartment. 

You had changed into an oversized hoodie and were curled up on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through your phone. every few minutes, you’d glance over at Gojo. he was still on the floor, hunched over your laptop like his life depended on it.

he looked completely different than he had a few hours ago. the "cool" mystery man was gone. In his place was a tired student with messy hair and glasses that kept sliding down his nose.

“finished," he finally croaked out, his voice cracking.

“did you really?" you asked, sitting up.

“submitted with four minutes to spare." he let out a long, shaky sigh and leaned his head back against the couch, right next to your knee. He closed his eyes, looking totally spent. “my heart is still beating so fast."

“from the assignment or from me?" you teased, poking his shoulder.

he opened one eye, looking up at you with a shy, tired smile. “both. mostly the part where you called me pathetic."

You laughed and stood up, offering him a hand. “come on, Satoru. It’s late. you look like you’re about to pass out on my rug."

he took your hand and let you pull him up. 

he was a lot taller than you when he wasn't crumpled on the floor. he gathered his books and his broken, sticky laptop, looking a bit awkward as he stood by your front door.

“so... I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I'll be here," you promised.

he took a step out into the hallway, then paused and turned back. before you could say anything, he leaned in and gave you a quick, clumsy kiss on the cheek. his face was already turning red again as he hurried toward his own door.

“g-goodnight, y/n!” he called out nervously, fumbling with his keys.

you watched him disappear into his apartment, and locked your door, as you then leaned against it with a grin. 

you had moved here to get away from loud, annoying neighbors, but it turned out the one next door was exactly the kind of "issue" you didn't mind having.

xo iris

a/n: art cred ruu_sugu on x (i think) all pics came from pinterest | I didn't proof-read so if there are any mistakes pretend they aren't there.. 👀

taglist?- @dorkinit4ever

online love is a series i’m starting and it’s kinda based off of my guildmate next door but not to much! anyways enjoy the first chapter!

“okay fine ill download wpl” you said to your friend claire as she was trying to convince you to download an online game.

(WPL short for war,people,life)

Claire had been talking about how good the game is and how she’s made many online friends in the game. recently she had been trying to make you get the game. which didn’t turn out well for you because claire is your bestfriend and you couldn’t possibly say no to her.

“YAY!” claire screamed with joy as she took another sip of her coffee. “i can’t wait to introduce you to my group!” she exclaimed

“w-what? you never said anything about a group?” you said very confused

“yeah? my group! i’m the leader actually! but you’re gonna meet my online friends!”

she said very happily

“o-oh okay then!” you replied nervously not knowing how to act

(later on in the day)

“i’m finally home” you spoke to yourself as you plopped on your bed

*bzz *bzz

(incoming call - claire drake)

“ughh.. hello?” you said as you picked up the call from claire

claire- did you download it y/n?

you- no.. claire i just got home..

claire- oh okay.. well uhh can you download it right now?

you- fine.

you get up off of your bed to your desk where your computer is and start to tap and click to download wpl

you- it’s downloading

claire- YAY! okay i’m gonna tell my group that we have a new member

you- alright.. also does your group even have a name or is it jus-

claire- we are called slushyphones

you- LMAOO SLUSHYPHONES? what kind of name is that

claire- well hamzah and martin wanted slushynoobz and mandy wanted iphones so i decided to mash them together and so we created slushyphones *sigh*

you- oh.. honestly i’d prefer iphones LOL

claire- anyway has it downloaded

you- yeah im making my account

you tell Claire as you type in a username,

y/nkillz.

you- okay it’s made

claire- what’s your user so i can add you

you- y/nkillz

claire- okay… and added you! accept the friend request and invite to the slushyphones

you- don’t call yourselves the slushyphones please LOL

claire- *sighh* i know it’s bad..

you- okay i accepted. wait why am i teleporting

claire- join the group call in the game

*call ended*

you look at the keys on the keyboard confused on how you do anything then you see a little mic button that says join.

you bring your cursor to the button and

*click*

(y/nkillz has joined slushyphones VC)

hamzahthefantastic- martin if you don’t stop trying to hack my account i’ll report you

thatmartinkid- LOL sorry bros i gotta do what i gotta do! you scammed me you said you would give me-

jahluver127- GUYS SHUT UP! my irl friend

y/n joined the call

mandysiphone- hi y/n! it’s nice to meet you

hamzahthefantastic- yeah hi.

thatmartinkid- erm hey y/n.

y/nkillz- oh sorry if i interrupted claire just told me that i should join

mandysiphone- you weren’t interrupting anything they were about to shut up anyway

thatmartinkid- hey no i wasn’t because hamzah scammed me he told me that he was-

jahluver127- MARTIN BE QUIET! we do not care that hamzah scammed you of your 300 gems that was your fault!

hamzahthefantastic- LOL BRO GOT IN TROUBLE

thatmartinkid- it’s not funny hamzah.

y/nkillz- *lol*

thatmartinkid- IS Y/N LAUGHING AT ME

hamzahthefantastic- LOL I THINK SO! you suck dudeee get scammed!

jahluver127- okay enough someone help her find her way around the game me and mandy are going on a quest right now and can’t

mandysiphone- sorry

thatmartinkid- well the second highest level is hamzah so he should do it

hamzahthefantastic- what don’t leave me with the noobie

y/nkillz- what the hell that’s kinda rude.

hamzahthefantastic- sorry but i don’t do well with noobs

*jahluver127 has left the call*

*mandysiphone has left the call*

*thatmartinkid has left the call*

hamzahthefantastic- BRUH. they really left me in here to teach you.

y/nkillz- LOL well i guess you have to teach me now!

hamzahthefantastic- i guess… so you know the basic moving skills right? like wasd and space to jump?

y/nkillz- yeah duh i’m not that much of a noob

hamzahthefantastic- okay well follow my character the one with the red shirt on and black cape

y/nkillz- okay! wait why is my character ugly.. how do i change it

hamzahthefantastic- well you only have 50 gems which can’t really get you anything to change your avatar so i’ll gift you 500

y/nkillz- wait what? don’t send me it, it’s okay i don’t need a cute avatar yet im still a noob

you spoke through your headset until something popped up on your screen

*hamzahthefantastic has gifted you 500 gems! would you like to accept?

yes or no*

hamzahthefantastic- accept it y/n it’s a gift for being a noob, maybe if you customize your character people won’t try to kill you

y/nkillz- are you 100% sure?

hamzahthefantastic- yes im basically rich in this game

y/nkillz- okay..

you spoke as you dragged your cursor to press accept.

hamzahthefantastic- alright now click the little shopping cart at the top of the screen and it should take you to the shop

y/nkillz- okay i’m gonna customize my character give me a second

hamzahthefantastic- alright.

(15 minutes later)

hamzahthefantastic- dude you are taking forever

y/nkillz- IM SORRY IM REALLY INDECISIVE

hamzahthefantastic- JUST PICK SOMETHING CMON

y/nkillz- okay im done. how do i look

hamzahthefantastic- lol cat ears?

y/nkillz- YES ARE THEY NOT CUTE?

hamzahthefantastic- no they are cute it kinda suits your voice

y/nkillz- what the hell is that supposed to mean..

hamzahthefantastic- i’m saying you sound like you could be a discord kitten

y/nkillz- i hate you

hamzahthefantastic- aw how sweet that warms my heart to hear y/n!

y/nkillz- just hurry up and show me the game

hamzahthefantastic- okay if you insist

*3 hours later*

hamzahthefantastic- Y/N KILL IT! ITS HALF HEART

*y/nkillz has slayed lvl 40 boss*

y/nkillz- LETS FUCKING GO !

hamzahthefantastic- now you are lvl 40 maybe tomorrow we can get you to 100

y/nkillz- yeah hopefully!

hamzahthefantastic- so how do you like the game

y/nkillz- it’s pretty fun and also really addicting it’s like 1am now.

hamzahthefantastic- ah shit i have to work in the morning

y/nkillz- okay i’ll let you leave!

hamzahthefantastic- um well before i leave could i get your insta. F-FOR THE GC OBVIOUSLY

y/nkillz- if you wanted my insta for yourself you could’ve just said so

hamzahthefantastic- N-NOT FOR ME ITS FOR THE GC!

y/nkillz- calm down im just teasing you!

hamzahthefantastic- whatever ill talk to you tomorrow

*hamzahthefantastic has left the call*

*you have disconnected from the call*

*call ended*

A yawn escapes your lips as you get up and stretch.

you make your way over to your bed where your phone had been plugged in charging

and you read the screen

*new follower @hamzahthefantastic*

you quickly followed him back as you went to stalk his account.

he had nothing posted of his face but he had posts that had a peak of his curly hair or posts of his cats but nothing of his face which kinda made you upset because you couldn’t lie, he had a nice voice but it didn’t matter since he didn’t post his face while you on the other hand had your face as your profile picture.

you had had enough stalking and put your phone on your nightstand and drifted to sleep

while you were sleeping you received multiple notifications

*hamzahthefantastic has liked your post*

*hamzahthefantastic has liked your post*

*hamzahthefantastic has liked your post*

*hamzahthefantastic has liked your post*

*hamzahthefantastic has liked your post*

*hamzahthefantastic sent you a message *

roommate!hamzah (smut)

his left hand stroked up and down his cock as he layed back and panted

“fuckkk” he moaned out loud

hamzah thought you had left the house since it was so quiet so he decided to be as loud as he wanted

sweat dribbles down his temple as he pumps his cock with his hand

and every time he feels close he teases his tip with the palm of his hand

“holy fuck!” he screams out as he squeezes his eyes together still edging himself

although you heard all of this from your room you tried your best to ignore the fact it was turning you on

that was until

“fuck y/n! you’re so beautiful” he moaned out your name so loudly

you were shocked, you never knew hamzah saw you that way

you had always wanted hamzah but you didn’t want to make it weird since he was your roommate but after hearing him call out your name you had, had enough and needed him more than ever

as you walk over to his bedroom you see his door is slightly cracked open

peaking in

you see him propped up on his bed stroking at his cock with his eyes closed

you don’t move but instead stay and watch

the boy pumps faster, you could tell he was about to cum

“mmh fuckk” he’s moaning out still not knowing you’re home or watching

you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter every second

he started to tease his tip again and that’s when he opened his eyes and seen you peaking into his room

“oh shit” he said as he pulled his blanket over his bare body

“y-you were home.? this whole time?” he spoke quietly sounding embarrassed

“y-yeah” you said under your breath

“look this is weird i’m sorry” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck

you didn’t hear a word he said because you couldn’t stop staring at his erection through his blanket

“d-do you need help.?” you asked politely

“what?” he replied seeming shocked

“do you want me to help you.. with that” you said as you pointed at his erection

he looked at you in the eye and just nodded

you walk over to him and pull him to the edge of the bed and insert your body in between his legs

grabbing at his cock with one hand slowly pumping it up and down, watching the pre-cum dribble out

you hear him start to whimper and groan, making you want to hear more of him

you start to lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, swirling your tongue around his tip making him clench onto his bed sheets

you then insert his cock into your mouth and start to bob your head up and down his length

“yeah, just like that” he praised

hearing him say those words made you move to just sucking his tip while your hands stroked the base of his cock

hamzah threw his head back moaning uncontrollably

you could tell he was about to cum, but you didn’t let him

right as he was about to climax you stopped to catch your breath

but he needed this, badly

he then grabbed your head and slammed your head right onto his cock making you deep throat him

you started to choke a little but the moans and whimpers he was letting out made it worth it

hamzah was so close but needed more

he then started to thrust up into your throat as he pushed your head down with it

you couldn’t breathe at that point but you knew you were making hamzah feel good so you didn’t mind

“fuckkk y/n! your so good” he moaned out as he threw his head back and reached his climax

you felt the white steamy strings of cum fly to the back of your throat and mouth

he then let go of your head

you then did one last bob on his cock before you let it slide out of your mouth and show him your tongue and mouth full of his cum

“swallow it” he said with a low tone

you swallowed it all and showed him your mouth once again

“good girl”

xo iris

Hamzahthefantastic ₊˚ෆ (made when i was like 16 not the best fics)

Yeah?

DEAL

Your name

Online love - I

Satoru Gojo*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Next Door

Is it casual?

Choso Kamoـــــــــﮩ٨✘

Is it recording?

More Coming Soon