Leon had never realized just how small babies were until he finally held his own. As he rocks her back and forth, attempting to get her to fall asleep, he realizes that sheâs almost as tiny as his hand. The tiny human that is half of him, yet not even one fourth his size.
Sheâs small, but sheâs a little bundle of energy, heâll give her that. As Leonâs eyes shut on their own, she looks up at him with wide eyes.
âCâmon, letâs go to sleep,â Leon says, hoping that sheâll magically understand. Yet she looks at him with wide eyes, absolutely full of energy. Leon swore he was a ball of energy until he had a babyâ Now he knows what being sleep deprived truly is.Â
He closes his eyes, tilting his head to the side and letting out a fake snore to encourage her to sleep. It doesn't work in his favor, on the contrary, she giggles. Leon canât help but chuckle at her reaction, kissing the top of her head and saying, âGuess that was funny, wasnât it? Iâm a pretty funny guy.â
âItâs late, honey. Wonât you let your daddy sleep?â he tries to argue, knowing that no amount of logic will get to her. âYou seriously donât want another baba? Itâs three in the morning, honey.â
He looks down at her, hoping to see her eyes get heavy and a yawn escape her face. But no, sheâs looking up at him curiously. He throws his head back, letting out a laugh in disbelief. He knows he wonât get any sleep tonight.
He just wants to get back to you and succumb to slumber, but it seems that his daughter has other plans for him. Itâs fine though, sheâll never be this tiny ever again and heâll make sure to enjoy every moment. He canât think of a better way to lose sleep.
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All of these writers/creators are absolutely amazing and i highly recommend following them and showing them some appreciation for their work. I will more than likely update this post every once in a while with more fics I love.
Leon:
@tothelions - White Noise (so domestic i absolutely love this one)
@/tothelions - under neon lights (I love this one so much!!!! It captures vendetta Leon perfectly)
@/tothelions - you still have all of me (another really sweet one, everything they write is absolutely beautiful)
@julymist - quality control (I love it when my porn also gives me lore)
@/julymist - positive reinforcement (Puppy boy Leon<3)
@/julymist - YGBO. (Iâve only read the first part so far but trust I will be reading ALL of it)
@/julymist - Iâll give you a holy body (dead dove but delicious)
@girlwithadragonheart - big chested reader. (As a big titty lady this made me feel seen<3)
@/girlwithadragonheart - that damn quarter zip (reader and Leon equally thirst for each other and I love it)
@/girlwithadragonheart - bicep riding (itâs so yummy)
@/girlwithadragonheart - somno (itâs not everyoneâs thing but itâs DEFINITELY mine)
@midnightsummerrain - you can see it with the lights out (genuinely such beautiful writing)
@/midnightsummerrain - just like you (I loooove re9 Leon x wife reader)
@/midnightsummerrain - just a touch of your love (touched starved Leon you have my heart)
@leonsleatherjacket - Salt and Pepper (AAHHH DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS SERIES.)
@/leonsleatherjacket - drabble for an upcoming series (Iâm so excited for this omfg)
@lilacgrayskies - insatiable rookie!leon (so so yummy)
@lilacgrayskies - calling re2 leon a pretty boy (HES SO FUCKING CUTEEEE)
@fi1iat3rra3 - older neighbor Leon (I have no words to describe how much I love this fic.)
@multi-fandom-imagine - Rich Leon (I love a wealthy man)
@seribun - calling Leon âScottâ (this and the the follow up are sooooo good)
@lolalov3s - Leon makes you squirt (omfg literally creamed the first time I read this.)
@a-dsoagent - pretty please (normally Iâm not one for rough sex but this is delicious.)
@ginsvault - He kept bringing me coffee (re2 Leon does not get enough love and they genuinely wrote him so well its beautiful)
@latenightcig - need to breed (dead dove, religious themes but so so yummy)
@alloftheimagines - stick to me like caramel (always been a fan of sex pollen fics but this definitely solidifies it.)
@chanif-art - resident evil master list (Not fics but I love these comic styles art âficsâ (for lack of a better term) and I looove how they draw older Leon)
explicit content
Leon taught you how to kiss. He never imagined that heâd be with someone who didnât know how. Simply hadnât fathomed it. Why would he? But you, lovely and kind, smart and silly, had never been kissed, and so Leon taught you. Got you sitting over his thigh with a little bit of pleading and a solid arm coiled behind you like a belt.
He thinks about it sometimes when he needs to, how heâd pressed his thumb into the hinge of your jaw to get you to open up and kiss with tongue, the hesitancy of your hands on him, the soft brush of your mouth and your breathing. He remembers those first few kitten licks, and the way heâd nipped your nose to get you to laugh and calm down. Finds himself aching and hard at even the slightest reminderâyouâll wear your perfume from those shy first months together and heâll strip himself raw remembering how heâd guided you forward, murmured about tongue and teeth and which way to turn your face, how to follow, when to give in.Â
It plagues him more often than it should. Occasionally, youâll kiss him sweet and gentle, your lips more parted than they could be, and heâll wonder if heâs a bad teacher as his stomach turns leaden with heat. Wet kiss or chaste, casual or under his weight, he canât be that bad. Isnât as good-hearted as heâd like to think, maybe, when he gets hard from a peck or entices you to sit in his lap and practice. Itâs spit, heâd murmured, not poison. Jusâ kiss me, honey, I donât care if youâre bad at it. Practice makes perfect, didnât anybody ever tell you that?
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warnings : female reader, reader has a sort of type A personality and some mild anger issues, talk of medical experiments, he's referred to as a subject and specimen quite a lot, descriptions of predatory behavior (animal kind, not the sexual kind), slow pace, sfw, lots of yearning for touch
okay part one isn't terribly exciting im sorry ajdgakab I just wanted to establish a connection between the reader and him in the setting n such before developing any deeper connection. also like 1% research went into this so im sorry if you're knowledgeable about oceanic research this'll probably piss you off lmao. also all credit for this au idea goes to @/bunnivievve tysm for letting me write a lil interpretation of your idea! this was inspired by this post of theirs as well âšđš
JUNE
Subject Zero.Â
Male, combined characteristics of humanoids and aquatic species. Captured by a trawling vessel, out in deep waters usually traversed by cargo freighters but occasionally by commercial fishing vessels. A freak happenstance. When the net had been dredged up in a fantastic spray of salt water, the hoard of tuna quickly spilling into the sorting containers, the men on deck had spotted something much larger than white fin tuna thrashing in the net.Â
Upon careful inspection they feared theyâd pulled up a man, some poor unfortunate victim of a seafaring disaster. A capsized or otherwise destroyed vessel, a near drowning victim that had fallen overboard perhaps.Â
Until they spotted the flashing of sharp teeth, and the thick, muscled tail slamming against the wet metal under their feet.Â
Thankfully their transmission to the Coast Guard was intercepted, a naval craft catching the broadcast and setting course as fast as possible for the trawler.Â
And now Subject Zero finds respite in your âofficeâ. If an office can be counted as more of an observation space, nevertheless. A part of you feels bad, the less scientifically trained and inclined part that is, for keeping such a clearly intelligent creature within a tank inside a black site. The initial placement had been⌠difficult. It was clear the subject missed the open ocean, and you did feel sorry that it had been so unceremoniously plucked from its home and deposited in such an alien space on land. But there was nothing to be done about it.Â
He was far too valuable as a research opportunity. The cold, clinical part of your mind understood that. He was a marvel of nature, flesh and blood proof that man could be intermixed with seafaring species, it was one of the single greatest events in modern marine biology. And an immense privilege for you, the scientist chosen chiefly to study the subject.Â
A dream. The government all but telling you to do whatever you deemed necessary, no concern over the expense. Gone were worries of securing grant funding for more piddling projects or the endless anxiety of thinking you would be stuck as one name in an endless list of names relegated to ordinary oceanic study. Not that your peers' works werenât valuable, but you always held the selfish desire for notoriety. Had dreamed endlessly throughout your undergraduate program of the day your name would be the one filling up library indexes and publications with impressive, weighty studies. Discoveries so undeniable you would join the ranks of the most noteworthy in the field.Â
And seemingly, your wish had been granted. Subject zero would be the gravel that paved your road to success. Itâs just a pity it has to be such an intelligent creature.Â
You sit back, uncuring from your hunched position at the desk, rolling your shoulders and wincing as you hear your joints popping. Documentation was a never ending pain in the ass but it had to be done, if you wanted to keep the convenience of not having to answer to nor justify your expenses to an overhead department. Ordinarily that work would be relegated to a lower priority researcher, but you preferred being able to sign off on it all yourself, comforted by the fact that there were no unforeseen surprises lurking in the documents or spreadsheets or data tables. Nothing anyone would be about to point out as a discrepancy, leaving you humiliated and floundering.Â
As you close your eyes you can feel it, the hair on the back of your neck slightly on edge. The feeling of being observed.Â
He seemed to prefer watching you when your back was turned or if you were otherwise unaware. If you were facing the ten foot thick glass of the massive elcousure he would recede into the farthest corners of it, shying away into watery obscurity. In a way it was cute, an obvious curiosity for the beings around him but he seemed stricken by shyness, didnât know if you were trustworthy. Which was understandable. You were the one keeping him there, at least to his limited viewpoint. The one that denied him reentry into his former home.Â
That irritatiningly scentimental part of your mind whispered to you again.Â
What if he thinks youâre cruel?
So what? We donât even know to what extend he does think.Â
You say that but you do care, at least a little. Thats why you sneak him extra food.Â
You sigh to yourself, pushing up from the familiar desk, palms flat on its slick glass surface before rising to your full height. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the white coat you don most of the day, every day, slung carelessly over the back of another chair at a separate station. Your badge attached via a shiny, silvery little clip. Walking over you purposefully keep your eyes directed away from the elcousure, your movements slow. This is a good opportunity to see how long heâll watch you as long as he believes you arenât paying attention.Â
The badge is solid, though lightweight as you pick it up, bringing it closer to your face. Itâs hard to believe you look so excited in the small picture in the upper lefthand corner. Your name in bold typeface as last name, first name all neatly lined up next to the photo. In itâs reflection you can see him, one hand perched against the glass, that thick midnight blue tail swishing up and down in a soft, rhythmic motion as he stays still. Ever watchful.Â
Its hard to see in the little reflective glimpse but subject zero does have more⌠handsome features. You smile to yourself, recalling one of the other researchers giggling while telling you it wasnât weird to note that because it was true. What man on land, with two legs, had eyes that shade of blue or a jawline that impressive? None that arenât using photoshop or filters.Â
Maybe if the discovery of the subject was publicized there would be throngs of people banging on doors trying to find out where heâs being kept. It did make you huff out a laugh, the idea that a half fish man who couldnât speak was more appealing than the majority of men on earth.Â
Maybe we should open an instagram page for him.Â
You shake your head to yourself, still smiling, as you set the badge down.Â
The office slash observation room remained quiet save for the occasional sound of sloshing water. It was late, well past time fo anyone other than the usual armed military guard to be roaming the facility. Well past time for you to go home.Â
At that moment you turn, just enough to peek over your shoulder and as soon as your eyes fix on the spot he occupied all you catch is a low flash of dark blue, retreating into the shadowy depths encased in glass.Â
~
OCTOBER
Three months of observation.Â
Hardly enough to form any evidence based conclusions, but enough time to get started on the right path. You had approximately nintey days of solid data on his diet, his presenting condition each day, endless notes on his observable physiology. He preferred deep water fish, clearly an omnivore as he also didnât mind the addition of oceanic plant species mixed with the fish when it was introduced into the tank. In fact he seemed to greatly enjoy the sudden introduction of variety, although still preferred to eat his meals in a semblance of solitude.Â
His distrust was only natural, you had to remind yourself. Until such time as heâs fully used to his new environment youâre unlikely to observe any great variation in his behavior.Â
At least he wasnât showing signs of aggression. That had been a legitimate concern, and still was, of course. All proper safety precautions were followed to the letter when it came to subject zero, and absolutely no one was to physically get in the tank, not until further tests could be done on his temperament and how he reacted to certain stimuli both pleasant and unplseant.Â
You grimace seeing a newly sent email notification, the little computerized ding signalling that your attention was required.Â
When isnât it?
You put the sleek desktop into split screen mode, keeping the charts on the subject to the left while your email opened to occupy the right side. Amid the usual low importance emails from general staff there was a new one, at the very top. The name made your stomach twist in preparation of the message. Dr. Gregg had, for lack of a better phrase, a raging hard on for the opportunity to remove the subject from the tank and getting it into a smaller one in order to sedate and extract genetic material. It didnât matter that heâd already been sedated and had samples drawn when he was initially transported here, no. The good doctor wanted more than that, but you couldnât accommodate the request in good conscience.Â
Or rather, you were worried about the effect it would have on him. It could set back the last nintey days of progress, or worse, inspire severe mistrust and heightened aggression towards all researchers. There was no way, even with sedation, that cutting into him wouldnât cause pain. And a source of pain that a creature like subject zero had no way of understanding would only lead to problems.Â
The two of you had been butting heads over the issue for the last week, culminating in an argument yesterday where you all but told him to get fucked. You were the lead on this, you made the decisions and he wasnât going to usurp your authority. Your credit.Â
But as your eyes scan the email you can feel yourself getting physically hot, your blood pressure threatening to rise.Â
You may be the lead, the head researcher on this project, but do not believe for one moment that I will not go above your head. You are not CIA, doctor. You donât call the final shots here, and it would do you well to remember that. Whatever your personal feelings on subject zero, you cannot stand in the way of necessary elements that better out understanding of the creature.Â
With shaking fingers you close the window, not bothering to respond and not trusting yourself to either. Every fiber of your being wanted nothing more than to march down that hallway and wring his wiry old turkey neck. Who does he think he is? Heâs just some physiologist, some ancient fuck. Who is he to threaten you? If his contributions were so invaluable wouldnât he have been made lead?
You squeeze your eyes shut, hands clenching in your lap as you breathed deeply in through your mouth and out through your nose. The meditation app youâd been using had provided you with some useful tools, being that your temper had plagued you since you were small. Always the first to fly off the handle at even the idea you could be questioned, your competence or credibility casted in doubt.Â
Inferiority complex, a nasty voice giggled in your head.Â
Itâs not that it wasnât true, and it was a bit of an achilles heel for you. But what took priority now was holding Gregg back, keeping him away from the subject and minimizing the risk that he could fuck it all up before you even had a chance to really begin. So, once you felt that initial flashpoint of rage quelling you reopened the email application, setting your shoulders back as you began typing.Â
Under no circumstances are you permitted to sedate nor perform any surgical procedures on subject zero. You have not been given any formal authorizations, so it would do you well to remember not to threaten your head researcher in the contents of easily retrievable emails. You are free to broach the topic with any superior officer on sight, and I am more than happy to entertain a line of questioning from said superior officers on why I do not believe it to be prudent at this juncture to allow for another extraction of material. Research is not a race, Doctor.Â
You canât help but smile smugly to yourself, imagining his fury at opening your reply. If he thinks just because youâre young that youâre easily pushed around he is sorely mistaken. Nothing and no one is allowed to jeopardize the most important work you may ever do.Â
With that you abandon the desk, itâs dull and mind numbing work, in favor of standing in front of the tank yet again. It was nice, having a portion of it extending into this area as an offshoot of the main tank where all the feeding and the bulk of physical testing was done. He seemed to enjoy it too, which despite yourself you did place some importance on.Â
It was important to ensure he was as comfortable as possible. He was still a living being, despite his status as a research subject, and you took no pleasure in the idea of him suffering in any way. It was definitely a slight drawback, you could begrudgingly admit, that you tended to get⌠overly attached to the species in your care. Youâd done the same in both undergrad and postdoc, although it was more important than ever before to keep a tight hold on those tendencies now.Â
How would you feel, if you knew that man was so hell bent on slicing you open?Â
Probably afraid.Â
What are you feeling now?
It would be so much easier if he were capable of speech. The bridges that had to be built between what was known and unknown had to come from the very foundations, things that required occasionally unpleasant experiences in order to build their understanding of him. But if he could just explain some of it, that would be easier. A half formed bridge is faster to finish than one from scratch.Â
Uselessly you peered into the clear, clean water. Between swaying stalks of plants there was nothing to see except the seemingly endless expanse of water. Several mind boggling tonnes of it, all kept nicely contained in ten foot thick military grade glass. Bulletproof. Shatter proof. Even if subject zero were to ram it with intent, crack it even, it would still hold.Â
You couldnât help but wonder, as you remained staring through that glass, if he was lonely. Seeing so many strange, upright walkers but being unable to even touch them, even consider the act of doing it.Â
As you frown at your own reflection, you feel it again.Â
Duel observation.
~
It was bizarre, to him. These two legs, tall men. He knew they existed, theyâd always known a different sort of being lived on the land, domineered it and then took to making attempts at dominating the sea as well. It had all become so noisy, so very nearly unbearable thanks to their hulking monstrosities of shining metal and the things they constantly kept dumping into the water.
Every day there were new threats to avoid. Long gone were the days of simply worrying about other predators lurking in the open waters or within the sediment and foliage.Â
He hadnât seen the net, as they called it, until it was too late. Had been too caught in the euphoria of finding such a gigantic school of gorgeous, meaty tuna, that his mind switched off to everything but pure instinct as heâd circled them quickly, calculatedly. His jaw had felt the ache of hunger so viscerally it was like the bones themselves were vibrating with it.Â
And then theyâd all begun moving. Swept up, trapped in an upward drag that heâd been powerless to fight against while overwhelmed by the wriggling, frantic fish flashing across his vision, no way to know what was forwards or backwards, up or down.Â
Then the shock of air. His lungs had seized up painfully with it, the feeling of being constricted by nothing at all yet everything all at once had been horrific, beyond frightening.Â
After that it was too messy, too jumbled in his mind. Harsh sounds, their sounds, were prevalent in his memory but just beyond his grasp. Far too loud without the water to act as a buffer between, softening the blows of each reverberation against his eardrums.Â
But her sounds were different. Or, it was that she didnât make many to begin with. The look of them all was mostly similar from behind the thick material they kept him in, in this unknown space. At least they offered readily available food, although not nearly what he was used to hunting for himself and his webbed fingers itched at the thought of clawing through water in pursuit of some darting piece of prey. It would feel so, so good to sink his teeth into flesh, to feel it rip and catch in chunks between his teeth, the iron rich scent of blood swirling around. The roar of adrenaline in his ears.Â
It was difficult to keep his focus on much here, save for her. The best parts were when the others disappeared but she would still be in that corner, down the long corridor of water and he would be able to see her, sitting and doing wholly alien things with her hands at something large and flat, but vaguely shiny. Hers didnât have webbing, none of them did from what he could tell. How did they ever swim competently?Â
She was softer than the rest and he enjoyed watching her do her strange tasks, sometimes she would pace around holding a sheet of paper in her hands, chewing on her bottom lip. Her teeth didnât seem all that sharp, since she never seemed worried about cutting her flesh on them. What did they eat, with useless teeth?Â
Just like at the present moment, with her back turned it was easier to look at her fully. Usually he wouldnât approach openly like this, unsure of the intentions of everyone here, but this space seemed to be reserved for her only which put him at ease. That and none of those harsh spotlights were present, if anything she seemed to prefer it half dark which was fine by him, preferable to that loud bright area behind him back through the water corridor. But she seemed tense, the set of her shoulders curled forward, almost in on herself. Something in front of her was clearly upsetting and in some odd way he felt offense on her behalf. She was kind, gave him extra food before she would disappear through the night, always seemed to be keeping a close watch over him and how the others were with him.Â
He may not be able to speak, but heâs pretty sure she was the reason he wasnât suffering in this place. And that was good enough, at present, to make him feel a sense of kinship with her. Closeness.Â
As she carried on with whatever it was that kept her so occupied his mind wandered to what it would feel like to touch her. They seem to enjoy touch, most of them being very casual with the way they interacted. How did she like being touched? Or would she dislike being touched by him outright? Would she find his webbed, clawed fingers disgusting, would she flinch away?
He frowned behind the glass. Hopefully not, but there really was no way to know. They seem intent on keeping a wide distance from him, which wasnât unwelcome. The only one he was at all curious about was her anyway, not that he would purposely antagonize anyone who ventured inside his new domain, though he certainly wouldnât circle them like one of the friendly, if a little dumb, nurse sharks do occasionally out in open water.Â
He was so caught up in that worry he nearly failed to catch her movement, but his reflexes are faster than hers. Before she could approach the glass fully heâd already retreated a safe distance away. Watching as she stared into the expanse of water, her face unreadable but the set of her eyebrows told him she felt some kind of stress, strain.Â
His fingers twitched at his sides, thinking about reaching out to touch her again.
~
You smile to yourself, a soft hidden kind, at the now familiar feeling. It was like there was a strange sense of understanding between you two, although you could just be ascribing things to him he doesnât possess. Thats always something to keep in mind, as a researcher but more often than not lately youâre coming to resent that line of thought. It was clear subject zero was intelligent. Maybe not to the degree of a human being, but he was close enough evolutionarily speaking, that he was like a cousin in the chain. An offshoot of the formerly solidly established line of human life. Theres no reason, as yet identified, that he wouldnât be able to communicate if given the chance to learn how.Â
You arenât thinking of him as a subject anymore. Thatâs dangerous.Â
You know it is, know that voice is right. But it doesnât account for everything. The odd push and pull, hide and seek game you two play here in this office every single evening. Its to the point now that you feel tense, uncomfortable if you donât sense him behind you, watching you work or pace around nonsensically. Youâve spent over an hour before reading and rereading the same observational notes and data sets because you kept grinning to yourself like a fool feeling those eyes burning holes in your back.Â
Heâd even made appearances in your dreams a handful of times over the last month, flashes of deep, endless blue that clung to the soft corners of your mind as you went about your morning routines, ruminating over his appearance as steam from your coffee curled around your hands, ghostly fingers clawing at the air. Tension crept up your beck, spreading out over the tops of your shoulders and trapezius muscles prompting you to stretch against the back of your office chair, rolling your joints and hearing their familiar cracking in response to hours of sustained poor posture. Lazily you grasp your phone from the desk, thumbing open the music app and scrolling a bit through your shuffle playlist before settling on something bubbly, but easily tuned into the background.Â
You wonder if he enjoys music, what his preferences would be if he could swipe through your library of songs. It makes you smile to yourself thinking about it, maybe that would make for a good test of his thinking abilities, how he responds to different genres, different artists. Standing, you bend slightly to make a quick note on a half discarded sticky tab: musical testing?
And suddenly a somewhat mad thought grips you, what if you tried right now? Whats the worst that could happen, he lurks in the background while you sway around the dim office like a fool? At least the only people who could see would be the guards, not that theyâd say anything either beyond thinking to themselves that every researcher here must be insane. That makes your smile grow wider, giggling to yourself a bit as you take slight steps in time with the beat, giving a little spin on your toes to face the take.Â
It only somewhat shocks you to find yourself face to face with him, that he hasnât retreated to the safety of the shadowy corners. His eyes, a remarkably similar color to the water surrounding him, track your movements with abject curiosity as you follow an imaginary path, one foot placed delicately in front of the other to carry your body with the faint sound of the music. All the while his eyes never stray from you, even when he has to move to keep you in his sights, even when you come right up to the glass and offer a little spin in front of him, giggling to yourself a little more freely now.Â
And to your amazement, at your laughter, he smiles. He smiles and it makes your chest feel light, like a ten pound weight you hadnât even been aware of was finally lifted off. Some might find his fanged appearance frightening, to you it was boyishly cute. A toothy little grin, the tips of his elongated enscisors catching against his bottom lip, and his thick, muscular tail began to move. As if, had he possessed legs like yours, they would be moving in tandem with you.Â
It felt like a genuine breakthrough, making you hug your arms around yourself as you stopped moving, still laughing and feeling just a tad bit lightheaded. He genuinely smiled at you.Â
He was moving with you.Â
That was a major breakthrough, even if just a personal one. Increased rapport meant things would be easier going forward, for both of you.Â
With a contented sigh you pressed one hand to the smooth, icy surface of the glass, your fingers stretching over the sleek glass and he does something that makes your breath freeze in your lungs. Gingerly, the way people stretch out their hands to scared animals, inch by inch his own rases to be a perfect mirror of your own. One larger, webbed, hand pressed to the glass right behind your own. It felt silly but you were too afraid to even exhale with any effort, for fear even the barest noise would ruin the moment and he would flee right back into the far corners, beyond your reach.Â
But he doesnât, doesnât stop holding your gaze for a single second and you marvel at the way his blonde hair sways in the water, like the finest strands of silk-
âSo, thats why you keep refusing to allow any progress of this âresearchâ?â
You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice from behind you, a signature grating tone you could pick out anywhere. As your head snaps to the side, body following the movement only a second after, you see him standing in the door way with his arms crossed nearly reeking of smugness.Â
Fuck.Â
~
One week.Â
You have one week to figure out what to do.Â
After shattering your late night revelation with subject zero, who has been increasingly attached to you ever since, the resident pain in your ass physiologist had made sure to fire off emails riddled with concerns and accusations addressed to the operatives truly in charge of the site. Questions of your ability to continue in any capacity with the project, the nature of your relationship to the subject, insinuating you had some kind of perverse intention, even going so far as to insult your credibility. Not only cc-ing yourself but âmistakenlyâ sending those emails to every person working on site.
It had effectively turned you into a pariah with regards to your peers. Whispers of conversation that would be cut off as soon as you set foot into a room. Strange looks from your coworkers, ranging from disgust to perverse curiosity. It felt like you were continuously on fire, every minute of every day. There would be a meeting in one weeks time, and until then you were relegated to nothing but the paperwork in your office, per the tense instructions given to you.
But your panic had less to do with your professional reputation, surprisingly, and more to do with feeling very nearly physically sick when you recalled how fixated he was with the idea of getting to cut into subject zero. If you were removed completely from this project there would be no one else to act as a roadblock, to keep that from happening.Â
Your eyes slide over to the observation tank, noting the worried way heâs been watching you for hours now. You wished you could haul him out of there, explain what was happening, the risk of what could happen to him. Maybe he would have some idea of how you both could get out of this. But was there any way out? Or is the only option allowing yourself to become a laughingstock, a professional embarrassment and to allow subject zero to languish in whatever horror would surely be inflicted on him?Â
You canât say if desperation is the only thing motivating you, but your mind becomes mostly blank as you leave the office. Its early enough, after youâd been practically climbing up the walls all night, so maybe the choice was fueled by sleep deprivation. Whatever the case may be, you find yourself moving as if through a dream: down the cavernous corridors, turning and twisting to follow the slate grey concrete all the way to the impossibly large main observation chamber.Â
With a swipe of your ID card, forcefully and defiantly, the locks give a little beep before disengaging. Mechanically you make your way to where the suits are stored. Specially designed, one of a kind. Made of an interwoven, enmeshed material not unlike chainmail to prevent sharp teeth from being able to puncture both cloth and flesh, and featuring only the best in terms of diving design. The manufacturer had created them after winning a defense contract from the governenment and you wonder if they ever would have guessed someone would be stripping and tugging the suit on in order to come face to face with something most people would assume only existed in a fairytale.Â
But here you are: yanking and adjusting the suit before prepping the oxygen tank, also designed to be compact but sacrificing the amount of time one could spend fully submerged at any depth. Either way it would work for this application, although no one had been given clearance to dive yet.Â
You knew doing this would come back to bite you far worse than just those vendetta fueled emails. Diving without any clearance, using untested equipment. It was beyond insane. But the circumstances felt insane enough on their own to justify it. Subject zero was overwhelmingly likely to be just as intelligent as you were, and just as likely to feel physical and mental distress in similar ways. Trying to communicate was step one and what better way than face to face. Then you could form step two: proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he was intelligent and thus, could be advocated for medically even if he couldnât advocate for himself.Â
That was the only way to halt the now speeding train of decisions being made on his behalf and without his input. If he could even write out the most barebones statement, even that would work to prove they needed consent to continue with any of this. Tomorrow you could wake up in a whole new world, one where there is technically a second legal classification of human being, one with a tail and gills. The though made you smile despite the tense circumstances.Â
What you were doing was a halfcocked, absolutely batshit attempt at a hail mary but it was worth a shot. Your reputation was already in tatters on site, how much worse could it be? If you fail in this all that happens is youâre dismissed and removed from the site, doomed to be a whispered footnote for future researchers. Did you ever hear about the lady that went crazy with one of the subjects? A cautionary tale about getting too attached to your work.Â
But fuck that. If youâre not at least a little attached to your work then do you even really care at all about any of it? You would argue that the resident physiologist holds no love for the work, only a love for the idea of something else experiencing pain.
With a deep breath you sit carefully on the steel ledge that runs the length of the tanks open ceiling. Easy, you just flip backwards and hit the water, reorient yourself and try not to get eaten by one potentially pissed off subject. Yeah, a real piece of cake. With that you decide theres no more time to waste, itâs probably already flagged in the system that you accessed the main deck, theyâll be here any minute.Â
Good, that means they can all see Iâm not insane or inappropriate. He can comprehend things just like we can, the music wasnât a fluke.Â
In the span of a second your worldview dips, swirls, and the splash of water hits your ears at the exact same moment the shock of cold does. The water is kept at approximately the same temperature as the water he was captured in, frigid Atlantic delights. As bubbles envelop you, you manage to get yourself turned right side up, carefully circling your arms to tred water and remain mostly stationary. This would be the key moment, you have to exercise extreme caution.Â
Youâre another predator that has invaded the territory of a fellow predator. In the natural world, itâs a killable offense. But you keep your eyes open, sweeping the dimly lit, wide expanse of saltwater around you. No sign of him, but that doesnât mean he isnât here, watching you, gauging the situation. As you continue to keep your breathing even, your movements slow enough but steady enough to keep your body afloat, you catch sight of something in your peripheral. That intimately familiar midnight blue tail. He was moving behind you now, one webbed, clawed hand slicing through the water like knives as the rest of him came into your view. That sandy, dishwater blonde hair floating in fine tendrils around his face, framing piercing blue eyes that took you in critically, curiously.Â
You allow him to keep circling you, doing your best to calm your nervous system that felt on high alert, panic just on the cusp of overriding your sensibilities. Allowing that would spell disaster, you would certanly be killed if you started thrashing or spinning wildly, it would scare him, you could both be injured in any kind of violent altercation. They would kill him if he killed you.Â
But your worries abate as he slows to a stop in front of you, and despite your eyes staying locked together youâre conscious of the audience you have on the other side of the glass. The feeling of being watched by many people is something quite unique, itâs also unnerving. You wish you could apologize to him, you hadnât realized before how uncomfortable literally living beneath a microscope was.Â
You raise your arm, hand extended, in a painfully slow movement that makes the muscles in your forearm ache. His attention goes to the appendage now how hanging between you two, eyeing it with equal parts suspicion and what seems to be excitement. The physical equivalent of a high pitched alarm happens in your body as he moves closer to you, the air suddenly locked in your lungs as you wait. This was another critical moment. Would he grasp your hand? Rip it off? It was entirely unknown, beyond dangerous.Â
But none of those things happen. The painting, god touching adam, comes to mind as he raises a clawed index finger delicately up to yours. They donât touch but rather hover in proximity to one another before a grin works its way across his face, those sharp incisors catching against his bottom lip as his eyes flick back to your goggled face.Â
You hope he can see that youâre smiling too, but you hope its not like it is with monkeys where grins are signs of aggression. But it seems that fear is unwarranted as his tail twitches erratically, the wispy bits of filigree flesh on the split end swirling through the water in a gorgeous display of deep blue and white. Like sheer fabric winding through the air.Â
The ecstasy that floods your brain is a feeling like no other, a full body sensation that spreads from the tips of your fingers to your fabric covered toes. His tail moves to brush against your kicking legs, the heft of it is shocking. You can immediately imagine the sheer power of it kocking into you, it would feel like being hit by a freight train no doubt. For something that looked so elegant and otherworldly, it was still a threat.Â
But you couldnât get distracted you needed some display of his intelligence, and you needed it now.Â
So you shake off the awe, do your best to refocus on his face. Carefully you draw back your hand, pointing to yourself and then at him. You repeat the gesture several times, hoping to receive a reaction that displays understanding.Â
And he doesnât keep you waiting long.Â
In a flash one clawed, webbed hand encircles your wrist and halts your movement.Â
Itâs like time suspends, a complete and total pause as you feel a different kind of chill within the suit. Itâs like youâre watching in third person, your throat seizing as your fingers intertwine hesitantly. Itâs an oddly tender gesture, and then your body is tugged through the weight of the water, pushed against the solidness of his chest. Your arms came gingerly around him, and his enveloped you in turn. He was all firmness, so solidly built it shocked you. You hadnât properly appreciated the sheer mass of him, the way his body had been crafted for underwater pursuit, hunting. But also to accommodate displays of affection, just like your own.Â
And as you two embrace you canât help but smile again. It wasnât perfect, but it was enough to form one hell of an argument on his behalf and you would shout until your face was blue that going forward, communication would take priority. Worrying about the innerworkings of his physiology could wait until later.
Does anybody remember that series fic where Leon is separated into his past, future, and present self? The future Leon is relieved that the reader is alive because his reader of the future is dead, and he comes back to the past to try and change it with the help of Luis? I vaguely remember this, but I don't remember who wrote it or if it's finished or discontinued. Please help me!
Synopsis. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths. Ryomen Sukuna has everything he needs and more: power, riches, enough concubines that heâs grown bored of such frivolities. That is, until youâre entering his royal estate as the newest additionâand he just didnât expect such a puny little human to becomeâŚ
His favorite.
Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!concubine!reader, Heian era!Sukuna, true form!Sukuna, DP, Sukunaâs second mouth, the Sukuna Estate, other concubines, schemes, sIight pIot, mostly just true form Kuna mmmmpfg, heâs the master, heâs BIG (like really big), four arms, two mouths, heâs FĂRAL, mouth-rĂding, sort of face-sĂtting, p sIapping, oraI (f + brief m), DĂMBlFICATION, making it fit, tight squeezes, stretching, tummy buIges, cervĂx smooches, sIight degradation, brĂŠeding, mentions of heirs, MANHANDLlNG, tension, full nĂŠlsons, overstĂmulation, spĂtting, foIding, stopping you from running, making you CRY, rough s, heâs MEAN, creampĂes, cĂşmpIay, muIti-tasking (iykyk), implied marathon, slight proposals, pet names, swĂŠaring.
Word count. 10.5k
A/N. Blame that split-second frame from the last episode not meâŚ
âOf the eighty-two chambers, you are free to enter most.â Uraumeâs words were smooth, steady, and not a second longer than necessary; just as their steps were down these winding hallways.Â
Youâre hastening your strides to keep up.
âYou may roam in the gardens and libraries. The main kitchen has its doors always open, the Eastern one is for specialty desserts and guests, and the Western one is for poisonsâŚand guests.â They continue, âThe dojo is forbidden to anyone but the master, and you are expected in the Buddha room every evening.â
They suddenly halt.
Boredly, âYou do plan to stay alive, I believe?â
And you could barely breathe, âI-I believe so?â
Youâre realizing that youâve stopped at the end of a massive bridge connecting to a quieter wing of the estateâintricately carved, and accompanied by a slow river drifting underneath. Uraumeâs hand falls to the edge of the lattice doors, âGood. Here we have the concubine quarters-â Looking at you seriously, â-where you shall reside.â
A shiver runs down your spine.
Truth be told, you hadnât expected to get this far.
According to what the stories and legends claimed, a mere mortal like you would have been sniffed outâwould have been sought after, would have your flesh torn to shreds the very second you stepped inside the Sukuna Estate. If not by the monster that inhabited it, then the Estate itself.
Some whispered that it was inhabited by cursed spirits - amongst something far, far worse - that both guarded and imprisoned. Whilst others whispered that the house itself was a cursed spirit in the form of this sprawling aristocratic estateâas vast as a palace. Even more whispered that whomever entered the house gained a taste for blood, and even most claimed that a houseâs auspiciousness reflected that of its masterâs.Â
For who else would inhabit such a place but Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses himself?
If the public whispered about the estate, they simply yelled about the sorcerer that inhabited it. Blood-curdling screams.Â
There was no avoiding the rumors that swirled around the special-grade; those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path painted a picture of a beast more than eight feet tall, with glowing blood-red eyes and horns that tore open the skies. Storms he could silence with a single wave of his hand. His powers were what made legendsânever before had there been seen a sorcerer as strong as he, and it was likely that there never shall be again. Though that was not for a lack of trying, or talent, or assassinations.Â
Despite remaining living, he was depicted in temples and murals of hell. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths and countless tattoos. So imbued in his sorcery that it metamorphosed his physical body itself - Ryomen Sukuna was said to be something more than human, but something less than a person.Â
Look at him wrong and you might find yourself without sight. Without life.Â
Thus, not many dared to lay their eyes upon himâbut they didnât have to. He left a pathway of destruction and blood-soaked footprints wherever he went.Â
A kill count higher than several populations.
Wherever he went, it loomed the dark shadow of a hand across the land. Currently that hand was grasped tight around the city of Heian-kyĹ: the home of Ryomen Sukuna, it sat at the very center of the capital. Dubbed aptly by the citizens to be The Estate of the Dead. For no human that wandered inside, will ever wander out.
And yet, thatâs exactly the chance youâd taken today.
Youâd had enough.
Youâd waltzed right up to those grand doors this evening, dwarfing everything and anything around it, and knocked. Dark mahogany panels. Gilded handles. Unlike most noble homes, the Sukuna Estate didnât need to have guards stationed outside itâfor who was mad enough to bother the King of Curses?
You, it seems.
And so the busy road froze around you; the residents paused mid-gossip, the merchants stopped haggling their prices, the carts and wheels creaked to a haltâthe world itself held its breath as the doors to the estate had opened.
And a short, slender person stepped outside.
They were dressed in a dark monkâs robe draped over a white kimono, equally white hair dazzling - almost ethereally odd - underneath the sunlight. They closed the door behind themself, and looked at you intensely. âState your purpose.â
You struggled to remember why you were here in the first place, âI-It is my greatest honor to-â
âHasten.â
âI only wished to-â
âHasten-â
âA position.â
You werenât sure who was more bewildered at the words that blurted out of youâyou or the citizens around you. There were soft gasps that echoed into the air, peering even closer at the strange interaction. However, the attendant merely looked at you uncertainly, and you hurried to explain yourself. âI come seeking employment, my lord of the house.â
âI am but a mere servant.â They replied, raising one hand. âAnd we seek help no longer.â
As they attempted to turn back and go inside, youâre rushing. âPlease-â
Brows furrowed, âI said we seek help no-â
âBut I swear that I shall be the most loyal servant to the masterâŚâ Bowed slightly, a slight rush of relief goes through you as you notice theyâve turned back. Just barely, but itâs something. â-after yourself, of course.â
They huffed in slight amusement.
And your hands shook. Gripped onto the long length of your sleeves, you steadied them before you continued - just as youâd practiced. âI swear upon my soul that no assignment shall be too great, no concern too small. Pleaseâplease, I have scoured every street and alley for weeks now in search of employment, and you have been the only one kind enough to open your doorsâŚAny job is enough for me- any. Just spare me the chance.â Hands twisted together into a plea, âI beg of you.â
They looked slightly taken aback, and you stepped closer to seize your chance.
âMy body is the masterâs, and I shall gladly undertake any task.â You gazed straight into their doe-like, brown eyesââAny task.â
Their lips barely moved as they repeated, âAny?â
âAny.â
There was a ringing silence following your answer, and you knew that everyone in the once-bustling vicinity must have been staring at you. But that didnât matter.
Nothing mattered but the way the white-haired attendant let their brows raise, they appraised you from head to toe.
Head to toe.
Head to toe.
It honestly seemed like forever before they finally sighed, âAt ease.â
And you shot upwards from your painstaking bow with an awed breath.Â
Untold, the doors to the Sukuna Estate opened. They turned around, not meeting your eyes - nor that of anyone around you two - and gestured for you to follow them inside. Stepping inside as though they didnât care whether you proceeded or not, the strange attendant uttered. âI expect you to use your body well to serve the master.â Just barely tilted to the side to take another look at you, âYou have one night to please him.â
The sound of wrought iron echoed through the ancient city like thunder.
And you touched your sleeve once more - your best silk, but more specificallyâŚthe dagger youâd hidden beneath it.Â
You had one night to take down the King of Curses.
In no time, youâd been led around the massive estate by Uraume - theyâd uttered their name to you between the meeting chamber and the second library - and your heart still thumps away at your throat as they now creeeeeeakâ! open the quarters for the concubines. Blood bubbling in your veins. Blade cold against your skin.
There was a buzzing sort of excitement that seemed to extend from the weapon and onto youâonly growing stronger as youâre pacing inside.Â
It wasnât the small, structured sort of barrack that you mightâve expected - you werenât sure the validity, but youâd already heard stories about how concubines were cramped together in certain royal palaces. Bunks on top of bunks. Bodies that remained undernourished and untouched.
However, what Uraume takes you through is a gilded hallwayânothing out-of-place from the rest of the palace. On one side was a line of separate rooms, at the end of the hallway the paneled doors opened to a garden. It had unlit lanterns on the high ceilings and intricate artifacts that seemingly sprouted from the gleaming wooden floors; the spotless corridor branched and divulged into several other rooms and hallways, weighed with nameplates, and you were shocked to realize that each concubine seemed to have their room - no matter how small their rank; there was a lingering of perfume in the air.Â
Fit for royals.
Your eyes bounce off of the walls, and Uraume watches your reaction closely. âI assume it is to your liking?â
âYes-â You wouldnât want to give off the wrong impression - especially not when a mere offense could mean deathââF-forgive me, itâs far more than to my liking, itâsâŚâ Taking another awed look around, â-magnificent. I suppose I didnât expect it to be soâŚâ
âBeautiful?â Uraume seems to read your mind.
And you can only turn to them and nod.Â
They sagely nod, something knowing in their tone. âThe master has an inclination to all that is beautiful and surprising.â Looking at you closely, âParticularly surprising.â
Uraumeâs expression gives nothing away, and you attempt to do the same - the dagger glints coldly against your hand. A single movement and it could cut you. A single movement and it could be in your hands.
You donât know how long they maintain eerie eye contact with you before the sound of footsteps makes you tear your eyes awayâand where youâre perhaps expecting to see the monster, the inhuman, the master of this house himselfâitâs another woman. Human, perhaps.
Donned in expensive silk that robes her figure, she tip-toes towards the two of you with a sheepish smile upon her painted face.Â
She bows, and youâre bowing back.
âForgive my intrusion.â She says as she straightens once more, âIt is seldom we meet a new girl. Perhaps this is forward, but am I right in presuming you are one of the new concubines?â
âO-oh, you are correct.â Youâre surprised by her warm and welcoming demeanour - werenât fights and jealousy typical of close concubine quarters? Wasnât she supposed to scheme and plot against you just as you were doing against her- you suppose your master?
But she takes your hand and beams at you, âThen it is most wonderful to make your acquaintance. Ask me anything you would like.â
Your lips part - unsure what to say - but the white-haired attendant at your side beats you to it by announcing. âDinner shall be served shortly.â They turn, about to make their exit before eyeing you closely. âHuman.â
And you wondered whether they meant to call you humanâŚor they meant that dinner was human.Â
Once those delicate doors slide shut, and Uraumeâs footsteps disappear, youâre just then realizing that you were still holding onto the other womanâs hand. Mustering up some semblance of a smile, youâre asking herââCould you tell me aboutâŚRyomen Sukuna?â
.
.
.
âThereâs a descendant of the esteemed Kamo clan here, as wellââ One of the women chuckle, taking a deep drink of her sake - one of those expensive types that came in an intricate wooden box. She smacks her lips in satisfaction, â-but you just missed her.â
Your heart batters against your chest- you still had the dagger hidden up your sleeve. Setting down your water, you hope that none of the other concubines here can hear the waver in your voice- âI see. Is she perhaps attending theâŚ?â
âHuh?â The woman looks at blearily for a few seconds. âWho? The master?â
You nod silently.
She exchanges a look with one of the other women-
Before bursting into rambunctious laughter.Â
And youâre sitting there confused as they clap one another on the shoulders, as they rattle the food-laden tableâas they wipe mirthful tears from their eyes. Repeating the last sentence to one another and breaking out into peels of laughter once more. Surely, you hadnât said anything too humorousâŚperhaps this was some unspoken rule of etiquette youâd missed?
It hadnât been too long since youâd been somewhat- absorbed into the group of numerous concubines upon concubines that were housed in the Sukuna Estate. Many more than youâd initially predicted - the hallway youâd entered had been just one of many residential wings.Â
Right now, about half of them sat at a long table of which you couldnât clearly see its end - both because of length and the sheer volume of food towering upon it. All sorts of soups and noodles. All sorts of breads and wines. All sorts of meats and charred vegetables. Desserts and colorfully-packaged sweets from around the world that youâd once believed that only the emperor himself would have been able to taste.
It would have been possible to dislike every food youâd ever known, and still find something here that made you wish to stayâŚif just for the food.
You could hear the other half of the women chattering and laughing away in another dining room connected to this one.Â
All in all, your proponent - a woman youâd learned was connected with the Fujiwara family - had told you everything about Sukuna as she introduced you to the other concubines. They took you in readily, to your surprise, and cooed and surrounded and showed you around. Speaking to you about how the estate was designed personally by Sukuna himself. How Uraume was his (human) cook. How he was a ruthless ruler, and the hallways were more often bloodied than notâbut he didnât lay a hand on them.
When theyâd told you this, youâd assumed it was regarding his moreâŚaggressive reputation on the battlefield. You didnât think it meant-
âOur Kamo girl has travelled to Edo.â The woman from earlier - Abe, you remember her name being - continues as the others settle down. She whispers scandalously, âTo visit her lover.â
You breathe in sharply, âThe master permits you to take lovers?â
âIt isnât that he permitsâŚâ Fujiwara smiles warmly at you - not too far down the table. The other concubines nod as she continues, âItâs that he doesnât pryâhe has no time for human frivolities. After all, the master hasnât called for one of the girls inâŚwell, since we can remember. Heâs a picky man. But nowadays, girls enter and leave the estate as they please, as they wish for employment. Most choose to join the house staff in time, for we arenât bound, and the master seems to have no need for concubines these days.â
Surprise overtakes you, your hand grips tightly on your sleeve. But your objectiveâŚ
Abe speaks up now, âWhich is why itâd been quite the surprise to know heâd allowed in yet another.â She leans in with a conspiratorial smile, âPerhaps youâre the type to really get his loins going-â
âAbeâ!â A few other women swat at her.
âI jest- I jestââ She winks at you, âIn part. Would you prefer to lay with the master?â
Something twists at the bottom of your stomach, âI-if it must come to it, I wouldnât mi-â
Youâre cut off as they exclaim in scandal all around you.Â
Fujiwara shakes her head with a smile, then she looks at you. âNo matter what it is, you shall be housed and fed here. You shall never go without despite the masterâsâŚâ
âImpotence?â
ââŚâ
âI jest-â
âWhatâs moreââ She pulls back her sleeves and gestures for a bowl of sake, âGiven the state of affairs, I highly doubt that you would ever have to-â
Just then, thereâs a tap at the sliding doors.
An announcement of Uraumeâs titleâbefore theyâre cracking the entrance open just a fraction. That stark white hair of theirs flashes from the gap in the door, illuminated by both the dim yellow lighting and the curiosity leaking out of the dining room; eyes scanning the vast chamber before finally landing on you.
An utterance of your name.
All eyes snap to you.
âThe master wishes for you to join him tonight.â
One by one, you could feel the jaws of the other women dropâas well as your own. Right alongside something at the pit of your stomach that you couldnât quite describe.Â
As the silence stretches and expands to the other speechless dining chamber- Fujiwara lets out a pointed coughâand itâs all you need to jolt right back to your senses. Scrambling to stand up, you barely have the time to smooth down your kimono before following Uraume out of the room - throwing a cautionary glance over your shoulder.Â
Fujiwara smiles, slightly shocked.Â
Abe winks.Â
The sliding doors rattle closed, and the whirlwind of gossip that follows accompanies you even to the bridge.Â
Head ducked. Hands in sleeves. Uraume remains painfully silent as youâre following them down winding hallways and past chambers vast enough to be estates themselves; and though youâd been given a tour of the place beforehand, you canât help but let your mind get just a little frazzled at the thought of what was to come after.
Of what was to come once they finally stopped.
And they doâafter what feels like nights upon nights, the white-haired attendant stops before two sliding doors - nothing but sliding doors. Though youâd assumed that the King himself might have decked his personal chambers with several of his best guards, youâre realizing with a prickle of anticipation that he didnât need them.
But that only made your job easier.
Invisible hands seem to pull the doors - panes decorated in artwork depicting archery - apart, and youâre entering a room that would have been too lavish for an emperor.Â
A massive rectangular-shaped room of which strange interconnected woodwork make up the flooring; windows towering from floor-to-ceiling, half-hidden by thick curtains of red velvet. They clung themselves onto a ceiling that was gilded, calligraphy rounding the high perimeter, and a chandelier-like composition of lanterns fashioned down from it. Reds and greens and blacks and golds, the most eye-catching painting colors of furniture within.Â
In the far end of the royal chamber was the futon.Â
And you would describe its incredible size and its golden threading, even the red, red blanket that covered it- you wouldâŚbut your eyes were far more interested in who was occupying it.
Thighs spread. Two elbows resting on his knees.
All four eyes locked on you since the moment you step inside-
âUraume.â His lips barely seem to move, though that hoarse baritone is hard to deny. It wasnât as inhuman as you might have expectedâit sounded human and yet, there was surely something malevolent in the way he made your thighs squeeze together with just a single word. âYou are dismissed.â
Youâre feeling Uraume bow deeply next to you, and in the blink of an eye theyâre gone-
In another blink of an eye, Ryomen Sukuna has one large hand stuck out - index quirked at you, he beckons you to him once. Only once.Â
And you gulp as you walk to him.
This was your first time really seeing the King of Curses- fuck. He was wearing nothing but baggy white pants and a strange, carnal inkling about him. Engulfing you in it the second youâre locking eyes with him. The legends were rightâŚsomewhat.
Because Sukuna truly was larger than any mere mortal could ever be: with shoulders sculptured and broad enough that theyâd put your best warriors to shame, with corded muscle around biceps the size of your head, with his pecs creating a bumpy road for his tattoos. He was about nine feet tallâperhaps even taller than the stories said. Far taller. Far stronger. Far more monstrous.Â
Abs consistently patterned his front, disrupted only by the presence of his second mouth - it slashes aaaaall the way across his navel, large nâ licking his cursed lips with a grin.
And those tattoos- oh, those tattoos.
They were the tattoos of a criminal - two looping around each of his four arms like shackles, and then a circle on all four deltoids.
You bite the inside of your cheekâyou knew your mission. But fuck- you wonât deny that a part of you wanted him so bad.Â
Sukunaâs pink hair catches the lantern light as he leans back on two hands, meaty thighs manspreading before you. And in-between you swear you could see the thick, throbbing outlines of two-
âOn your knees.â The King commands. Crimson eyes narrowing, âShould you so wish.â
And your knees are buckling almost instinctually- he raises a rose-pink brow as he watches your hands reach for your sleeveâŚbefore ultimately going against your orders to settle down before the foot of the bed where he was seated.Â
Embarrassment curdles in your chest as youâre crawlinâ yourself closer to him, and the sorcerer himself hums in approval once youâre leaning your cheek against his right thigh. Rubbing.Â
The muscles underneath twitchâand Sukunaâs swollen tips let out a spurt of precum that puddles right in front of your lips. That translucent dampness stretches across the fabric and wets your lips with its salty taste- you whine.
Right before he grasps the back of your sweaty scalp with one massive hand- and shoves your head down onto one clothed cock. Your mouth gaped wide and plopping! right on top of his mushroomy tipâan open kiss against where his sensitive slit was flared outwards.Â
Heâs pulsating against your lips.
And youâre moaning with your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his entire tip being nearly fuckinâ big enough to envelop your entire maw-
âDo you understand now?â Sukunaâs tone rumbles from above - low and level in a way that speaks of such power. He doesnât reveal anything more, however. âDo you understand that your puny human body cannot handle me?â
Youâre looking up at him with furrowed brows, âI-I understandâŚâ
âDo you understand that I may ruin you?â
âI understand.â
âDo you understand that you cannot take m-â
âI want you-â And almost as bewildering as the fact that youâve interrupted him, is that Ryomen Sukuna doesnât crush you with his cursed energy on the spot for interrupting him. â-my lord.â
But that seems to be his tipping point. For his large stomach mouth quirks upwards in what almost seems like a smileâ
And Sukuna gruffs out, âThen kiss your King.â
And so youâre gripping onto the soft edge of the mattress and leaning yourself up into his kiss- not the one his face was so ready forâbut one where youâre leaning in and pressing a chaste peck onto his second mouth.
Onto those monstrously large lips hungrily gaping at his stomach.
Onto that fucking hungry - starved - maw so deprived of any touch that heâs immediately slurpinâ the edge of his textured tongue outwards. Attempting to enter his incredible size between your own lips, Sukunaâs only managing to fit about an inch of his cursed tastebudsâswipinâ the insides of your heated cavern and making you gasp, before heâs searing his grip into your scalp and tugging you off-
âNaughty naughty.â He trundles. And yet thereâs a glimmer of something different in his eyes that told you Ryomen Sukuna was almostâŚexcited. Heâs patting one side of him on the futon, âCome up here with me, insolent thing.â
In no time, youâre hauled onto the bed and straddling the infamous King.Â
Thighs struggling to squeeze around his toned core, cunt drooling your slick through your panties. As youâre inadvertently rubbing uuuup and down his ridged abs- it creates a snail trail of glistening sap that trickles all the way down to his pinkish-brown happy trail.Â
Sukuna titters once he leans his head down and takes in the mess - nâ then heâs gripping one side of your waist with a single hand.Â
Squeezing lightly, it doesnât take even a mere fraction of his power to glide the exterior of your pussy down those unruly tufts of hairâdooooooown in a carnal scratch as he positions you directly on top of his second mouth.
His second mouth.
Now gaped wide open and fucking ravenous.
Immediately cracking apart from each other with a parched gasp- something deep and rumbling from his underbelly. It reminds you of a creature thatâs been starved for eonsâsomething that makes shivers run up your spine right from the in-betweens of your drippinâ wet cunt. Right as youâre feeling his oversized tongue press aside your ruined underwear and start to eeeeeease inside-
âFuh-fuuuuckââ Dazed peripherals rolling to the back of your head - without even realizing it, youâre planting your feet onto the futon and bucking- whether more into Sukunaâs cursed mouth or away from itâŚyouâre unsure.
But heâs making the decision for you. Heâs cupping either side of your hips with two clawed hands, letting those pointed tips dig into your clammy flesh, âEasy-â Letting out a rumbling chuckle. âEasy there, woman.â
Gasping, youâre lurching-Â
âEasy.â
And itâs all he needs to steady you.
Itâs all he needs to tighten his hold onto your squirminâ body, until itâs like heâs attached onto you with adhesive. It doesnât take much of him to move you âround and spread open those folds even further like a pretty flowerâthat massive tongue of his wastes no time before swirling around that first ring of muscle. Cutely clenching around him- fuck, he canât wait.
Before slurping his muscle back and shoving it straight between your pussylips.Â
Through the popping pressure in your ear, âBecause howâre you gonna take my cocks otherwise?â
And you really didnât forget who you were dealing with, did you?
You really didnât think that Ryomen Sukuna - the King of Curses - was going to go easy on youâŚdid you?
Because without even waiting for your struggling walls to get used to the size, his enlarged tongue reels all the way backwards with a deafening slurp! Right until the curvaceous tip was ticklinâ at your entrance, before Sukunaâs thrusting all the way back in. Again.
Your toes curl. Your eyes dart instantly to the back of your head.Â
Sukuna himself cracks a smirk- before heâs then doing it again.
And again.
âDonât think yer running from it.â A third hand ends up plastered atop your clammy scalp- dangerously gripping your head and puuuuuushing you down onto him.Â
As far as your tight hole would let him. Your thighs quiver, âB-but-â Bucking.
âNow now, bratââ Pushing you back down. âYa get what youâre given.â
Again and again.
It doesnât matter how many times youâre twisting on top of him because of the ruthless swabbinâ of his tastebuds inside. Honed at the very tip and zig-zagging around in a way that makes you viscerally shake on top of himâheâs slipping his velvety muscle inside and stirring it a few times to get a reeeeally good feel for your walls. For how much youâd stretch. âBecause you shall fit- ohâŚâ He seethes between clenched canines, nose scrunched at the very top. âYou must- fit it. You must not run away.â
Another tough battering ram of his thick tongue - itâs almost adorable how your poor body is being jerked to and fro. He murmurs, âFor who can possibly escape Ryomen Sukuna? Heh.â
His tongue seems to wind nâ stretch even deeper inside you after his own self-praise - you always have heard rumors about the King of Curses being particularly egotisticalâŚthough righteously.Â
And again and againââP-please.â Sukunaâs second tongue fills you up in all sorts of ways youâve never felt before - not with the texture or the size or the complete and utter needâŚThose ridged tastebuds of his were pushinâ into eeeeevery single nook and cranny he could reach - which was all of them. At least, as far back as your dewy walls were allowing him to go, âSuch a size should be-â
âNecessary.â Heâs cutting you off cleanly. âBesidesâŚâ
Sukuna raises a pink brow, leaning backwards on the mattress to watch his massive tongue indulge in and out. In and out. In and out.
Your puffy folds being pushed apart at a rapid pace, your gloss seeping everywhere as he tunnels insideâheâs letting out a low whistle of approval as his second mouth creates such a mess between your legs. Monstrous tongue jerking outwards and slapping the front of your cunt teasingly- it makes a fresh wave of your juices slather down your thighs.
And he smiles - already knowing that heâs going to clean this up later.
The Kingâs chest rumbles with satisfaction, âHeh- you should be aware, little humanâŚthat mânot even halfway inside yet.â
There were two things in that sentence that drove you utterly wild: the fact that he mentioned he was barely inside, and the fact that he saidâŚyet. As though to prove the point heâd just sparked inside your muddled brain, Sukuna arches his hips off the bed and ruts-
Pistoning his tongue a mere inch deeper.
Even though - to you - it feels like heâd just struck his tongue against your very throatââWh-what you claimingâŚâ Your thighs quake as he continues fucking you between them, âHow much longer may you possibly have to go?â
âOhâŚan inch, two, fourâŚ.seven.â Sukuna tilts his head airily, âTch- such tedious tasks are meant for humans. How about you count instead?â
You balk, âPardon, master?â
âCount, little human.â And without a single warning, his fourth hand snakes underneath your flapping kimono- between those sopping pussylips and squeezing at your poor clit. âYour master orders you to count.â
And the only thing you can possibly do is let your eyes shutter at the pleasure, lips trembling as Sukunaâs second tongue finds its mazinâ way across your walls. As youâre struggling to get a single word out, however, at least the ruthless sorcerer slooooows his pace down to something more languid- making sure you feel every bump and vein.
Every quirk.
Every inch.
Until finally youâre throwing your head behind and vocalizingâafter only a few sloppy strikes. âT-twoâŚâ
âHehâŚinteresting.â One of those gnarled hands clasped onto your sides reaches upwards nâ grabs onto your pretty face, smushinâ those cheeks together as he stares deeply into your eyes. Sukuna takes in your dazed peripherals, your spit-glossed lips - the way you looked completely and utterly gone on his tongue, and yetâŚstill managed to answer his question.
Mere mortals never did manage to surprise him anymore. You, howeverâŚ
Before even he knows what heâs doing, Ryomen Sukuna leans inwards and spits between your gaped maw. Rushing to then kiss you with his own lips - eyes widened, mouth hungry. He looks bewildered himself, as his cursed mouth continues rubbinâ your pussy rawââIt seems we have a feisty little human on our hands.â Three out of four hands groping at your sides and making you ride him-
Youâre trembling.
âAnd yet, who told you to cease your counting?â
Thwack!
âThreeââ You cry out. Expectedly, Sukuna was meanâthat fourth nâ final hand of his plasters his knobbly fingertips against your sensitive nub. Spanking you hard enough to see stars.
But Sukuna only grins, âIncorrect.â
Yet another spank. Yet another brush of his cursed tongue inwards- and you swear that youâre starting to hear his second mouth start to snicker to himself. Was that even possible?Â
Were you even thinking? Were you even breathing?
It doesnât take his keen eyes long to realize that heâs left you completely and utterly stupid on his tongueâjust so luscious and lewd. Spreadinâ apart your puffy folds and funneling your insides with him, âFour- fourââ
âCorrect.â Just to tease you, those fingers of his leave another rude spank.
And Sukuna doesnât bother letting you gather your bearings before heâs delving even deeper.Â
âF-fiveâŚâ Youâre trembling out as you feel the massaging texture of his tastebuds enter, theyâre pokinâ into spots you hadnât even realized you had - filling out your tight channel and leaving his shape molded straight into your cunt. âAnd is thatâŚngh- six?â
âThat was seven.â He rumbles out in a smug tone.
Your jaw drops as you register the massive number - seven inches of his cursed tongue fucking your pussy. And yet it still doesnât seem as though heâs planning to stop anytime soonâŚ
Back arched, youâre keeping your hands on top of Sukunaâs broad shoulders. Nails digging into his deltoids. And with all the strength that you could muster, youâre attempting to riiiiiide your hips back down onto hisâgrinding in figure-eight motions.
Sukuna was already manhandling you down onto him - now it might just be your turn to control the cadence. To control how much of him went inside you.
âJ-just fuck me alreadyââ Youâre pleading. Your jaw drops with a parched whimper, hips veering down harder and harder- âNgh- that was eight. Nine. Just fuck me- all of me.â
Sukunaâs eyes widen in slight surprise- before heâs quickly catching himself and tightening the two hands at your waist. âNow nowâŚeasy there. Go too fast for a little human, and yer going to hurt yourself.â
âBut I need it.â Lip jutting out in the cutest damn pout, âI need you inside me, Kuna.â
His breath catches, âRepeat what you just uttered.â
Back bending into the most delicious curve, pushing up against his sweaty pecs. Youâre sobbing out as his stomach mouth gapes even wider nâ seemed to push in even more, more, moooore of his sultry inchesââN-nine and a halfâŚ? I need you inside-â
âNot that-â Smacking your clit once more. â-you insolent brat.â The tip of his tastebuds reach the very back of your pussy, and itâs a sensation you just canât describe. âThatâŚtitle. I command you to hah, repeat it.â
âTitle?â
Thwack!
âRepeat it.â
And itâs taking everything and anything in you - in your utterly cockdrunken mind - to conjure up the faintest inkling about what Sukuna was talking about. To let your head throw back with a final primal cryâfor the first time since heâd started fucking you with his stomach mouth, youâre finally feeling your ass cheeks seat down properly on top of his washboard abs.Â
And then youâre finding yourself in his strong arms, your moans muffled into his actual mouth. âT-ten.â Gasping through the constant drool nâ sounds of pleasure clogging up your throat, âThatâs ten, Kunaââ
And there it was.
Theeeeeere it was - in more ways than one.
Ryomen Sukunaâs getting to hear that sultry nickname fall from your mouth once more - for some inexplicable reason leaving the tips of his ears feeling warm - and heâs getting to see you complete his command.
Ten entire inches of his cursed second tongue- lickinâ away every trace of sap at your inner thighs, before heâs pushing it all the way inwards. Inwards and inwards. The maw slashed across his stomach grins as heâs hitting the very back of your pussy-
And before you know it, the King is tugging you into his arms.
He kisses your mouth sloppily while his second tongue continues fucking you between your legs. Harder by the minute.
Sukuna grunts as he opens his mouth wiiiiide nâ slips his tongue between your jaw- âSuck on my tongue.â Heâs echoing out in a hollow tone.
And you can do nothing but squeeze your glossy lips togetherâeagerly suckling on his tongue. Youâre unsure whether it was from your lavish dinner prior or whether itâs just how hazy your brain is, but youâre finding him to taste almostâŚsweet.
And your eyes roll to the back of your head as you do so-
âHeh-â Sukuna manages to pant out between kisses, open-mouthed and hot. âNow both pairs of pretty lips are sucking on my tongue.â
And your jawâŚdrops- only for him to use the opportunity to kiss you even deeper.
Making you ride his stomach mouth whilst he kisses you stupid - his tongue probing inwards, inwards, inwards in looooong slick thrusts. Scrapinâ every orifice inside but especially bending around to hit your g-spot.Â
Youâre sure your body jolts as you feel the sudden zaps of charged pleasure, setting your body positively alight. âI-Iâm so close, master.â You pout, âI must- hah- cum.â
âMust, hm?â Sukuna mutters - almost to himself. âAnd am I to believe that my human deserves to cum? Am I to believe that she is ready to take both my cocks?â
Nodding fervently, âY-yesâyes, please-â
âAm I to believe that she will have no trouble taking me down to the very womb?â
âYes-â
Crimson eyes narrow, âI will not slow down, needy human. Am I to believe that-â
âYes-â Just so gone on your impending high. So close.Â
And to your surprise, the King merely chuckles as youâre interrupting him - had this been anyone else, then they would have found themselves being made an example of. But youâŚyouâre finding yourself jerked almost aggressively upwards as he bucks his hips, more to run the ridges of his cursed tastebuds along the interior of your walls. Harder. Faster.
You hurtle straight into your high at an incredible pace-
âIf you had let your King finishâŚâ Itâs the last thing youâre hearing before the pleasure overtakes you - Sukunaâs rumbling tone. â-then perhaps you would have known my question was whether Iâm to believe you shall give me an heir in my name.â
His question was going to be whether youâd give him an heir.
His question was going to be whether youâd give him an heir.
But youâre unable to articulate anything more than a few whimpers nâ grunts - because the waves of your orgasm that overtake you are enough to leave you numb. Enough to leave you babbling. Enough to leave you shaking on top of Sukunaâs toned body as he shovels his fat tongue in and out.
In and out. In and out.
The way his overlarge tongue curved was just perfect for hittinâ every spot, and youâre feeling him time out your peaks perfectlyâknowing juuust when the surges of your dopamine were at their highest.Â
Just then, heâd slam! his flattened tastebuds onto the exact spot of your nerves. Fingers nothing but a dizzying blur between your legs as he rolls his thumb over your clit, âGonna take my t-tongue-â Sukuna spits between honed canines, âGonna take my cocks then- gonna take my seed.â
âSh-shiiiiitââ You yowl, âIt feels so good, Kuna-â
âThatâs âmasterâ to you.â He scoffs, nose sliding down the column of your throat. Sukuna takes one more look at the way youâre swallowing him up - at the way you grind deeper to stuff his glistening muscle between your pussylips, and shivers. âOrâŚconsider yourself lucky to be shown mercy this time, human. Say thank you.â
âThank you, Kuna.â
âTch-â
And with that said, itâs not long before youâre completely and utterly fucked through your orgasm by the mouth on his stomachâthrough every tiny shred nâ ounce of pleasure.Â
Once Sukuna feels your quiverinâ pussy finish, heâs pulling out of you with the most lecherous squelch! Letting your thighs drape limply around his waist for a few seconds- thatâs as long as the King can manage before heâs sitting up on the futon and flipping the two of you around.
So that your back was against the mattress. So that your head was hitting the pillows.
Sukuna crawls his massive figure down the length of your body- four arms pinning back your slick-sheened legs as he pushes his head between them. Heâs wasting no time before digging his larger-than-mortal nose between your sodden pussylips and giving your cunt a good liiiiiiiiick of his actual tongue - this time tasting you with his actual mouth.
âShitââ Youâre surging up from your comfortable position, sparks sizzling in your brain. âA-again, Kuna?â
âYour master never had his fill.â
And with that said, heâs lavishinâ your pussy with countless long licks and dribbles. Lips glued to your folds. Breathing through his nose. Sukuna darts his tongue out - thick, though definitely not to the extent of his stomach mouthâs - and zig-zags it across your entrance.
Easing his wet muscle insideâinside and inside. Heâs scourinâ every inch of your walls as though to check every mark heâs made before. Just so tender.Â
The velvety inches of his tastebuds flickering in and out- five inches long, youâre realizing automatically. Far longer than a normal humanâs.
And it just drives you insane.Â
The edges of his fangs nip either side of your entrance - Sukuna had already left you so raw with his cursed tongue prior, so now itâs only taking a few seconds before heâs getting you to spray your orgasmic juices all over his mouth once moreââK-Kuna, Iâm close.â
He hums at the feeling of your trembling fingers weaving into his pink hair, âClose? Stupid brat, youâre already cumming.â
The wetness of your cunt spills down his chin.
And Sukunaâs dragging his tongue iiiiiiiiiiiin and out at a constant, sloppy pace to get you through your high. To elongate it. Curving the pointed tip of his tongue against your g-spot - he holds it there for a few seconds just to feel you shake nâ clench around him.
Before heâs breathing through his nostrils and starting to synchronize your peaks with the slashes of his tongue. âMhmmmmââ He moans out sultry vibrations, they send shockwaves up your spine. âYes- fuck, yes. I believe this pussy is ready for me.â
Raging through you hard and fast - he doesnât have much time before your legs start to twitch cutely with overstimulation. Tears sheening down your face. Your jaw unfastened with the most sinful noises.Â
Sukunaâs prominent nose pushes up against your clit and youâre crying outâ
Looking up at you with hungry, half-lidded eyes. âI believe this pussy is ready to be my queen.â
With the pins and needles of your last two orgasms still coursing through your body, itâs nothing but a blur to you as Sukuna hovers his large body over yours once more. And itâs as if one second youâre blinking up into his handsome face, and in the nextâyouâre finding him laid back against the mattress- and you laid back against him.Â
Your head rests against his collarbone. Your back was arched against his stomach mouth.
Your legs were dangling off somewhere around his lower half- until Sukuna reaches two of his powerful arms down to position you properly. First, heâs grabbing either side of your waist and aligning you with where his clothed erections wereâthen heâs spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open.
Finally, heâs cupping his clawed hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up, up, up, upwardsâuntil they were stretched out almost beyond your ears. And Sukuna was just basking proudly in this rude full nelson that heâd manhandled you into.
Gruff laugh echoing by the side of your ear, âAnd nowâŚâ In the corner of your teary peripherals, youâre seeing his other two arms bend to your lower half. â-to check for myself whether this pussy can really follow ordersâŚâ
Your kimono was already an utter mess- and Sukuna doesnât have to do much to have it bunched around your naked hips. Your cunt all glistening with slick nâ saliva from earlierâhissing at the heated air thatâs hitting you. âShitâŚI need you so badly, master.â
âThen I expect you to take every inch.â He replies ominously. Just then, his eager fingers drop to the hemline of his pants. âI expect you to take every drop-â
And heâs tugging.
Only for your jaw to fallâ
Because Ryomen Sukuna wasnât just huge - youâd already expected as much, given his height and other physical prowess. But he was just staggering.
Just like the rest of him, there was double the number of appendages as there would be on a normal human. Two achingly-hard cocks stacked on top of each other. Inches upon inches. Despite your counting challenge earlier, youâre having trouble registering the sheer lengths that he could possibly be - tenâŚnoâŚ.twelve? Perhaps even longer. Though youâre noticing that the upper one was just the slightest bit longer than the other.
Both just as girthy.Â
Round and reddened. The plump, puckered tips upon their ends throbbed with carnal desire- oozing out generous helpings of milky-white precum that dribble down the front of your cunt. It mixes with the mess already made before, and leaves your thighs sticky with need.Â
Heavy ballsack twitching underneath his second shaft. So many veins that you lose count.
âK-Kunaââ Youâre whimpering as he starts to rub the shafts of his two cocks between your swollen pussylips. Pushinâ them apart and making space for his ruthless girths instead, âWant it inside, Kuna- hck! I really crave you inside meâŚâ
âOh, little humanâŚâ He coos from above. Larger face craning down next to yours, âDid you really believe that I was hesitating? That I was waiting for you?â
âI supposeâŚâ
âHereâs where you are mistaken, my puny thing.â Sukuna trundles, and you donât have to look behind to know that his sharp fangs were making an appearance. âI am no kindred man.â
A shiver runs down your spine.
And before you can open your mouth to ask what exactly he meantâhis rounded tips press against your wettened crevice. Just the sweetest dual pecks, theyâre letting out harsh slurps! as he starts to slip around your needy hole. âI wasnât waiting for your body to get ready, as you so might have believed.â
âTh-thenâ?â You sob.
âI was waitingâŚâ Your body bucks down into his, your hands reach up to grab at his pinkish locks and-Â
And your dagger slips out.
His voice grows excited. âI was waiting-â Both of you reach for it at the same time, Sukuna with his four arms and you with your two. Your heart stutters- your hand closes around the thick, metallic hiltâââŚfor a distraction.â
Several things are happening at once: for one, Sukuna finally forgoes teasinâ at your readied hole to instead scour his cocks inside - fucking in with a long, hard thrust. Deeeeeeeply pressing against your cervixâit feels as though heâs splitting you sensually from the inside out, and youâve never felt anything better.
And then youâre closing your fingers around the blade - tight - and aiming behind you to press the sharpened edge of it against his throat.Â
You knew youâd struck your target. Especially when you feel the dagger tremble as he chuckles- chuckles. The King of Curses has the audacity to chuckle.
When you have a weapon to his throat.
Youâre unsure whether it was overconfidence or something else entirely- but his hips donât falter for a single second as he rams his swabbinâ tips thoroughly inwardsâthumping away at the back of your pussy. Your ears sizzle with the slamming impact of skin-on-skin, âAnd so?â He mutters to you, âFor what reason do you stall? Do it.â
You grit your teeth, blade pressing against his sunkissed skin until a bead of crimson peppers out. âDo you believe that I am too cowardly to do so?â
âForbid the thought.â Sukuna hums, âA King assassinated by his favorite concubine? How romantic. I merely implore you to hasten-â
âI shallââ
âSo do it.â
âDo not regret-â
âDo it.âÂ
In fact, he leans in even closer as though to help you.
Heâs fucking you deep from the rounded orifice of your cunt, to the very depths of your womb. Pulse thundering inside - until it felt like he was taking over every single part of youâuntil your teeth were set on edge, and the thud-thud-thudding of his matching cocktips was all that you could think of.Â
Your hand trembles around the hilt.
Your lips wobble with emotion.
Your eyes lock deeply with Sukunaâs own hellishly crimson ones, and-
And the dagger falls gently onto the cotton futon.
Sukunaâs body ripples with a sensation that couldâve been anything from pleasure, to victory, to utter gleeâbut most of all, his tone just sounded awed.Â
âI knew there was something special about you, woman.â
And then youâre being crushed in Sukunaâs arms as far back as you would go - as high as your legs could reach above your head, as curvaceously as your spine could bend against his core. Heâs manhandling you like nothing but a ragdoll above himâplastered to his muscular back, youâre at the mercy of his vicious thrust after thrust.
The stretch was just incredible.
The stretch was like nothing youâve ever felt before.
Two thick, loooooooong shafts that were mazinâ between your sopping pussylips- the rounded edges of their cockheads manage to swerve your tight walls apart. Jostling against one another. Throbbing in synchronization inside you - ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Scraping his thumping veins inside and reaching aaaall across every nook, orifice, and cranny. Just so big.
Sukuna himself grunts out in pleasure as his cocks manage to press through the slight resistance you still maintained - his cursed tongue had stretched you out incredibly, and heâs groaning out in pleasure as his cocks manage to slide against one another and then against you- âAnd now- hah, and now I believe you remember what you promised me?â
âPromised?â Your lashes flutter open, âI-Iâm afraidâŚâ
âYou promised me an heir.â
Your maw droops open. Your heart starts to race.
Your cuntâs drooling out your arousal at the prospect faster than you could register it- and Sukuna feels the sploshinâ leaks around his thickened bases. His grin stretches as he takes in your unspoken reaction, and before you know itâboth sliding cocks are knocking at the door to your very womb-
âAnd Iâm not Ryomen Sukuna if I donât fuck one into you tonight, brat.â
Rough thrusts. Crushing you in his big, beefy arms.Â
Closer and closer. Tighter and tighter.Â
If you thought that youâd been treated like a ragdoll earlier- then youâd been lucky. Because now youâre pressed between his bulging biceps and his pecs, sweat covering both your bodies in a thin sheen as your movements grow more and more ferventââFuck a- hah, fuck my heir into you.â Sukuna was barely speaking by now - short, rasping bursts. âFuck you so big and fuuuuuuuull.â
Running two hands down your frontââMaster, I have doubts that it gets much more full than this.â
And he lets out what almost sounds like a guffaw, âIt can.â
âWh-what do you mean- oh.â
And all this time, youâd been damn thankful that Sukuna had chosen to stretch you out on his oversized tongue firstâhow else would you have fit him so easily? Softeninâ up the snug exterior of your channel. Mapping out your sweetest spots.Â
Because it just made it even easier to slip insideâit just made it sooooo much more convenient for his dual tips to probe open your wet cunt. Inching and easing.
But then youâre starting to feel a third intrusion.
Then youâre starting to feel his needy tongue once more.
Youâre gasping-Â
The slightest, smallest ticklish sensation ofâŚnone other than his cursed mouth dragging down the inner sorts of your thighs. Just teasing. Just the roughened ridges of his tastebuds, long enough that he can snake them down and flatten them over that soft skin beside your cunt.
And in a matter of mere moments, Sukunaâs rugged hands settle deeper against your skin. Tight. Tough. Heâs double-checking to make sure that your restless hips couldnât skin away- before reeling his hips back and penetrating you in longer, harder rutsâeach rude slamminâ of his cocks accompanied by the soothing laps of his cursed tongue.Â
âY-yet againâ?â Youâre blabbering out stupidly. Tears falling in big, bulbous beads down either of your cheeks and ending up smeared, âKuna-â
âMhmmmm.â He hums out - and you could almost hear the smugness in it. The way his piercing canines make an appearance as he says, âItâs for your own good, brat.â One of his hands lifts off of your sweat-covered body - folded like a lawnchair - and Sukuna runs it down your middle.
He stops right above where both his swabbinâ cocks and his tongue had started to form a tiny bulge at your stomachââS-sensitive-â
âExactly.â He sounds so content with himself. So damn content.
Those handsome lips - both pairs of them - quirk further upwards as heâs massaging the front of your stomachâparticularly over that one spot where youâre stuffed till youâre bloated. Pressing down-down-dooooown- âAnd how shall this puny human body handle carrying my heir, hm?â He growls as he accelerates his ruts, âHow?â
Mouth sobbing open in answer.
You're gripping onto either side of his muscular body and swervinâ your hips in response- unsure whether you wanted to rut back down for more or justâŚ
âRunning away?â Sukuna's dangerous trundle sounds from behind you, and the clasp he has on your shuddering body only grows stronger. Before you know it, youâre being manhandled like nothing but his favorite toy and shoved right back onto his twin erections-
He continues, âIf you canât handle two of my cocksââ Theyâre emptying out at the bottom of your pussy with two distinct thuds! The top one first, and then the squeezinâ of the latter. âIf you canât even handle my tongueâŚthe babies of my lineage tend to be large.âÂ
Palm pressing down on your stomach.
âDoes this pretty womb have enough space?â
And thereâs nothing more for you to do but throw your head backwards and buck up into his awaiting arms. Heâs only seeming to crush you even deeper against his toned body, âIt does-â
âWhat was that?â One pink brow raises.
âI s-said it doesâit does.â Youâre blabbering away, thighs attempting to wrangle downwards so that you can steady yourself. But the only thing thatâs succeeding in doing is making Sukuna tighten his restraint on you maddeningly - âI can fit even more of you- hngh, I can fit yourâŚâ
He grins- and this time itâs his second mouth that hisses demandingly at you. âSay it.â
âHeir in hereâŚâ And if this was any other time - if youâd been in any clearer of a state of mind - you wouldnât have said such embarrassing words in your lifetime. And yet, here you wereâbouncinâ down welcomingly into Sukunaâs largely gaped maw. âI want it, Kuna.â
âHeh?â He grins, âThen brace yourself.â
And itâs the only warning youâre getting - honestly, youâre surprised to realize that heâd given you any at all.Â
Because in the next few seconds- his cursed mouth goes from lappinâ away at the sweet, sweet juices coating the edges of your cuntâto slithering between those puffy pussylips of yours and attempting to devour your pussy whole again.
Two arms laced behind your clammy scalp. Two more arms reaching down to toy with your overstimulated pussy.
âO-oh gods-â Hiccuping through your tears as you start to feel the pleasurable burn of your pussylips stretchinâ once more.
Wider and wider.
Deeper and deeper.
In, in, and inâ
Sukuna's second mouth tenderly whips apart your wet wallsâwith the most lecherous squeeeelch! he's then attempting to stroke his tongue inwards between the thrusts of his dual cocks. Sharp, stabbing thrusts. Just to fit inside.
Three- three of his sinful appendages attempting to stuff you all full - you're losing your mind already with his throbbing cocks, but now Sukuna's tongue was a different sort of texture altogether that was just leaving you on the verge of-
âYou can cum.â The King sputters out against your temple, lips moving what seems like a mile a minute. âBut you have to remember to reward me with a strong heir after, hm?â Tap-tapping at the tummy bulge he was fucking into you, âHafta give me one with my powers. Hafta give me one that- hngh, I can train into the strongest. Hafta give me one with- haaaahâŚâ He breathes out laboriously, â-that smile.â
Your eyes shoot open as youâre registering exactly what heâs uttered, âKunaâŚfuck, it feels so good.â
âPleaseâŚâ And it might just be the first time that youâve witnessed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna utter a word of plea since youâve met him. That chiselled cheek of his nuzzles down the side of your temple, â-call me your husband.â
Oh.
Oh.
Youâre barely even given enough time to let the entire ordeal sink of having him inside you sink in- before the wooden panels beneath the futon creeeeeeakâ! And Sukunaâs arching his hips fully off of the dampened mattress, entering his entire greedy lengths into your pussy.
Again and again.
Reeling back until it was only the plump, glossy tips kissinâ at your entrance - before drag-drag-dragging his pulsating length inwards. In-between he just barely manages to squeeze his textured tongue inside.
Repeating once. Twice. Thrice. So many times that youâve lost count, and youâre barely in control of your own ministrations as a third hand stuffs between your pussylips and squeezes your neglected clit.
And then your overstimulationâs hitting you all at once. All at once.
And Sukuna realizes it before you do- when youâre shivering primally on top of him and cumming once more. Around his cocks. Around his mouth. Itâs such a white-hot pleasure that bursts stars behind your eyelids, creating heat at the tips of your toes and then sending it searing through every vessel within you-Â your body shakes in his hold as the dopamine courses right through you.Â
His lips crack into a chuckle, and heâs cooing softly down at you as he ruts his hips even harderâfucking you through every peak. âTheeeeeere, thereâŚâ Something almost sweet- though you know better than to expect sweet from Ryomen Sukuna. âMy poor human couldnât handle it?â
âI-I canâŚâ Youâre arguing back- even though your answer sounds like nothing but a jumbled mess of syllables. The sheer force of the high that wracks through you is enough to make your head spin, thighs shakeâfucked up, up, and up by his never-ending hips.Â
And he can only smile, âIs that soâŚ? Then perhaps my fierce concubine wonât mind if I justâspeed up a little bit.â
Even more?
Your mouth drops as youâre perhaps getting ready to beg for mercy- before even the choked-up syllables at your throat start getting fucked back down by his roverinâ tips.
Rubbing their flared ridges across every spot of your insides, dribblinâ out gooey precum into the smallest nooks and crannies. Youâre feeling the sultry slickness of it puddling up deep inside you, and itâs almost enough to send you raging right into another high-
âK-Kunaâ!â Your voice cracks.
âI know, heh.â He snickers, deep and hoarse. âI can feel this pussy begging even more fâme.â A few more vicious strokes and youâre feeling another faint arc of pleasure that youâre sure must be your nth high of the night.Â
Hard and fast.
Hitting through every one of your bundled nerves- but especially that g-spot heâd bruised by now. Two large circular marks in the exact shape and circumference of his bludgeoning tips - they were slapping at two separate timesâone after the other. Ba-dump! Ba-dump!Â
ExceptâŚthis time, Sukunaâs own thickened cocks twitch inside of you as youâre clenchinâ through your high-
âAnd donât you worry, bratâŚâ He growls from behind, âThis time, your husbandâs not too far behindââ
Your eyes flutter open in pure shock- and one of his hands reaches down to tilt your chin to look at him. âShit-â
âSay it fâme.â Sukuna rasps, âSay it- call me your husband while I cum inside.â
And who were you to deny an order from the King himself?Â
The words are barely escaping your lipsââC-cum inside me, husbandâŚâ
Before the strongest sorcerer in history throws his head back and jerks his hips upwards- letting the pouring wads of his cum plug your pussy up twofold. Whatâs better than one of his cocks seeping deeply at your innards? Two of themâŚThere are so many gooey wads of it trickling all deeeeep inside- splashinâ against the spongy layer of your cervix. Swashing down your tight channel.
Youâre shuddering as you feel the delicious sensation of him sprayinâ inside you - a sheer volume that ends up frothinâ in-between your legs. A circle of white forms around both of Sukunaâs thick bases. âThere we go-â He snarls. âThere- there, we goâŚâ
âShitâit feels so, nghâŚâ You donât even have the words. Your body quakes as his ridged tastebuds start tickling the outer parts of your pussy. Long, luscious licks - itâs enough to make you cum again.
âAnd this baby shall become my heir.â Sukuna whispers - mostly to himself than anything. He runs a hand down the sweat front of your body, left ever-so-slightly more inflated with his constantly-pumping cum. âThis baby shall be taught to become the strongest. This baby shall be- hah, feared amongst the nationâs lands and beyondâŚâ His fanged smile grows, âKnown by my name, I shall teach this baby to protect its mother with their life.â
The fatness of his tongue dips between your swollen pussylips- lapping again and again. Heâs torn between drinkinâ up and pushing back the pearly white beads of cum that kept on leaking from you.
And youâre merely draped limply over his front. Crushed to his powerful body.Â
âAnd this babyâs gonna become the most precious thing in this- hah, estateâŚâ You feel him press a kiss to your temple, â-alongside you, of course, Your Majesty.â
âMajestyâŚ?â
âThe Queen of Curses.â
For who couldâve tamed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna?
In no time, heâs finally fucked himself into your pussy through his high- and itâs a tangled mess of limbs and moans as Sukuna attempts to pull out. Before realizing that his cocks were probed in too deeply, before realizing that that would mean letting his pool of cum spread out of your cunt.
Losing all his hard work.
And so he sniffs haughtily, reaching one pair of his hands up into the air and clicking-
In a split-second, youâre finding your back against the pillows. As if in a dream, youâre blinking up to stare into Sukunaâs handsome faceâtwo hands braced upon either side of your head, both cocks still shovelled deeply inside of you. Throbbing. Did he justâŚdid he just use his powers to change-
âYes.â He answers your unspoken question- of perhaps it had been spoken, youâre too drunk on his cocks to realize whether or not youâd blabbered it out loud. âI call itâŚteleporting.âÂ
âTh-that should be outlawed-â Youâre gasping. The air around you felt tightened with what you assumed must be his cursed energy - youâd heard the stories about them. Who didnât?
And he merely hums, âI am the law, woman.â
Without another word, one of his four hands snake between your legs- his cursed second mouth had finished up lappinâ at the coat of cum around your thighs. And he licks his lips and belches almost gluttonously once Sukuna reaches down to cup your pussy andâ
âO-oh.â Something buzzes between your overstimulated legs.Â
Almost as soon as itâd started, itâs over- and Sukuna pulls his hand awayâand then his rugged cocks. Letting out the most lecherous sluuuuurp! as heâs reeling his hips away, rounded tips funnel out from between your pussylips and leaving such a-
WaitâŚyour eyes widen. There was no mess - whatever technique that Sukuna had collected between your legs stopped his cum from leaking out.
And the King of Curses wastes no time waiting for your surprise to register- not before letting out a deep snicker. He straightens his bulky body nâ edges himself closerâand before you know it, youâre suddenly finding your head straddled by Sukunaâs meaty thighs.
His dual, furiously-hot erections slapping their shafts down onto your readied face.
Both fanged mouths grin, âNowâŚopen, human.â
And you just knew he was about to make you take both.
âśď¸ď¸ High For This (starring . fratboy plug!choso)
synopsis . You're best friend's with both your favorite emo fratboy and the campus plug. So when you make an offhand comment while under the influence one night that no guy has ever made you cum, he takes it upon himself to challenge that.
content . afab!reader, oral sex, dirty talk, spitting, squirting, he has a tongue piercing, pussy slapping, slightly-bimbo!reader, high sex, 69 position, cumming without realizing it, munch activities (yk how choso is), heâs a lil cocky, first time squirting, finger fucking, shotgun kiss, he talks you to filth, slight manhandling, throat fucking, head pushing, heavy praise, etc.
word count . 8.9k || author's note: this is a repost from kamitv so if it looks familiar, that's why. (the original was labeled mature, unfortunately) banner art from, "Hachisuka's Family Kotoribako"
âThis guy is following me, pretend to be my boyfriend.â
âWhaââ
A pair of arms are wrapping around his neck before he has time to react properly and the rush of something sweet wafts up into his nose. A careful hand, decorated with ring after ring and adorned with black polish across the nails, comes to the right side of your waist to pull you in close.
Chosoâs rich and definitely intoxicated brown eyes mull over the faces of the people around him, spotting Gojo and Getoâhis friendsânot too far away from him, and a bunch of other partygoers.
He doesnât ask you any more questionsâdespite how youâre some random chick who came clinging onto himâas his eyes soon land on the guy whoâd clearly been following you.
âEw, NaoyaâŚâ He spits out, his face twisting up into a nasty scowl of pure disgust as the residential misogynist comes walking toward the two of you. âDonât tell me heâs the asshole bothering you?â Choso whispers questioningly.
Your face is all buried into his neck and he could feel your arms tightening around him as you mumbled a gentle, âMhm, he is.â
GreatâŚ
Because who in their right mind would want to deal with Naoya on a Saturday night? The guy gets kicked out of every frat house party thatâs ever been held âcause of shit like this. All he does is harass and insult women, only to be eventually approached by one of the many frat brothers and get kicked out moments later.
Seems like this week itâs Chosoâs turn to handle him. Which is just wonderful, really.
âYo,â Choso calls out to the fully approached Naoya, whose mere presence makes him feel nauseated. âThe fuck do you want with my girl?â
Now, youâve never spoken to Choso before this but, the sound of him calling you his girl has your heart feeling all warm insideâeven though heâs only said that because youâd asked him to play along.Â
The scent of his cologne mixing with the thick musk of weed fills your nose as your face smushes up into his chest. You only know the man through the rumors youâve heard and the few times youâve seen him around these parties you keep attending. As you readjust your chin to look up at his expression, you think your arms unconsciously hold onto him a little tighter the moment you spot the vein peeking out against his jawline.
Everyone hates Naoya, thatâs an irrefutable fact. But, something about how annoyed Choso was looking at him right now had you pulling your lower lip into your mouth.
Naoya lets off a scoff, his voice all loud and annoying, âThis dumb bitch is your girl?â He asks.Â
Every syllable that left his mouth is grating to all listening ears. Ugh, he was such a nuisanceâŚ
You merely glance back at the guy for a second and notice the look in his eyes that clearly says heâs not buying this shit. Chosoâcatching the same thing that you doâslips one of his hands downwards to the small of your back, not daring to go any lower just yet, and then eases you even closer.
âFirst off, watch your fuckinâ mouth,â He scoffs out, jaded eyes dragging up and down Naoyaâs frame as he wonders how long it would take to knock him onto his ass. âSecondly, yeah, weâre together. What do you want?â
âThat slut owes me money,â Naoya curses with tightly crossed arms, his gaze fixated entirely on you as if Choso werenât even there. Though, heâs not really looking to get kicked out of this party just yet and heâs trying his best to avoid physical confrontation.
Cocking a brow, the brunet smoothes out a low huff that smells of the recently consumed marijuana he's inebriated under before redirecting his slightly glossed eyes down to you, âThis isnât what I think it is, is it, baby?â
Youâre quickly distracted by the pet name that so easily rolled off of his tongue but without getting too wrapped up in it, you blink. âHuh?â
Choso slowly tilts his head to the side and cracks a knowing grin, âYouâve been seeinâ other dealers? Donât you know Iâm the best on campus?â
Gulping, âWell, Iââ
âSâokay,â He cuts off to ease the concern and worry trying to paint itself into your features. âWeâll get back to that in a secâ,â Then he gestures his head over to Naoya, gives your waist a little squeeze, and says, âLemme handle this guy for you first.âÂ
Choso carefully moves you to the side and steps toward Naoya, whoâs arguably a bit taller than him. He sizes him up again and bites back his scoff, replacing it with a tiresome sigh that he doesnât even try to play off as anything else outside of what it isâan honest gesture of displeasure.
Voice lazy, âHow much does she owe you, man?â Choso asks with one hand already fishing through the pocket of his pants for his wallet.
It really didnât matter what number was thrown out to him, he was gonna fling whatever bit of cash he had on him toward Naoya to get him to fuck off. The only thing good about his presence right now was the fact that it brought you along, which is something Choso would like to return to as swiftly as possible.
âTch,â Naoya chuffs, trying to glance behind him to get another scowling look at you before he says, âAs if you have enough toââ
âJusâ give me the number before I get you kicked out again,â Choso cuts off cleanly with a gaze that bores into the manâs skull.
One beat of silence passes by as Naoya contemplates a few things in his mind, wondering whether or not he really wants to test his luck with this.Â
Ultimately, he ends up caving with a roll of his eyes, âFineâŚâ Then he gives him the number of which you owe and heâs literally smacked in the face with a random wad of cash as if he were some kindaâ cheap whore to be dealt with.
âThere,â Choso spat, âNow donât let me catch you trying to sell my girl your overpriced bullshit again, yeah?â Technically, he had no right to tell someone else not to sell drugs to you when he didnât even know you.
But, one look at your face and he was certain heâd want you coming to him for weed and not anyone else after this. Especially when going to someone else landed you in this situation where youâre being followed around parties for paymentâChoso would never do such a thing. Heâd offer alternatives before even thinking to harass you like that.
Naoya was immediately enraged by how heâs being dismissed but itâs not like he could express that since there were one too many fraternity members in the area for him to do so without instantly getting escorted out. Thus, he settles for shuffling up the cash thatâd fallen onto the floorâsnatching each bill from beneath the feet of partygoersâand keeps his curses in a lowered whisper thatâd never be heard under the blaring music.
Then, as if nothing ever happened, the surrounding people return to their dancing and Naoya seems to disappear somewhere into the crowd shortly after.
Which leaves you standing in place with slightly widened eyes whilst Choso turns around to look at you, brushing his hands off like heâd just dealt with some type of dirt or something.
âYou alright?â He asks, taking a step closer toward you. The music is loud so itâs hard for you to really hear him, hence why he leans his ear down to your lips so he can gather your response properly.
You nod at first and then the words follow, âUhm, yeah. I wasnât expecting you to pay that off for me but, thank you, Choso.â
Shifting over to talk into your ear now, âDonât sweat it, princess. But uh,â He clicks his tongue before darting it out to swipe over his lower, pierced lip. âI meant what I said before. You shouldâve been dealinâ with me, not that idiot.â
âOh,â You chirp.
Then he pulls away and the two of you are able to take one another in properly for the first time.
Under the changing LED lightsâwhich are currently a mix of purple and redâboth of your faces are dimly illuminated. Chosoâs eyes openly scan over every detail of your expression, watching the cute curl in your lips as you slowly smile at him.
Oh, youâre gorgeous.Â
What are the odds that a pretty girl like you literally comes running into his arms at a party like this? And then this dress you have on⌠Choso doesnât exactly mean to glance down but when he does, he notices the way the fabric simply hugs your body, shaping you in all the right places and more.
He gulps, a sound that wouldâve been rather loud if not for the vibrating base of music against the surrounding frat house walls. His eyes flick back up to your face and youâre shamelessly staring at his lips, then your gaze lifts to his nose, then to the right side of his face; right at his cheekbone for some reason? After, youâre looking at the tattoo running across the bridge of his nose andâ
Ohhh, Choso was so distracted with checking you out that he almost forgot how many body modifications he has. He gets these kinda stares all the time but for a second heâd lost his entire train of thought. Thereâs the ring on the left side of his lower lip, his anti-brow piercing on the right half of his face, the small one on the left side of his nose with a very obvious tattoo running across the bridge, and then the multitude of piercings all over his ears.
Makesâ sense why you were staring now. Youâve got this clueless little look in your eyes and itâs kinda cuteâ
âHow much do you charge?â Youâre asking, ending his thoughts entirely.Â
The word, âFree,â blurts out of him before he even realizes it and itâs not until he sees the way you start giggling that he realizes what heâd just said. Shaking his head, and backtracking, âWait-, no. I donât do anything for free, sorry. If anything,â Choso leans back and slides his hands down into his pockets, âYou actually owe me now.â
Your eyes shoot wide open, âOwe you for what?!â youâre huffing as you wonder how the hell you keep finding yourself in someoneâs debt like this.
âHm, I dunno. Paying Naoya off for you?â He says with this sly grin stretching across his face. âBut donât worry, you jusâ owe me a promise.âÂ
You lift a skeptical brow at him and watch his pinky finger lift out for you to attach your own to in the most clichĂŠ way possible. Looking down at his finger, then back up into his eyes, âWhat kinda promise?â
âGottaâ promise youâll come to me for your weed instead of that moron, Iâve got better prices and better strains. None of that baby shit he was scamminâ you with, trust me.â Choso offers with his pinky still outstretched. Youâre slow to intertwine your finger with his and he uses the connection to pull you closer, âI need to hear you say it too.â
You almost start stuttering with the way heâd jerked your body closer just to say that all lowly to you. âI promise Iâll come to you instead of Naoya from now on,â You respond with a dramatic emphasis on your words, fighting the blooming feeling in the pit of your stomach that spurs when he smiles at you as if he were proud or something.
And thatâs roughly how the two of you met and became acquainted with one another. A couple minutes of fake-dating, one pinky promise, and a âcomplimentaryâ joint to start you off later and the two of you were practically best buds!
ââ
Well, not exactly best buds but you and him do get really close after that little party and encounter.
You stay true to the promise youâd made with him and only ever deal with him from then on. Choso was entirely honest with you that night so, everything heâd said turned out to be more than true. The shit you used to get from Naoya was nothing compared to what you were constantly high off of now, and it was cheaper.
Though, sometimes you did seduce your way into convincing Choso to give you an even lower discountâŚ.
One slightly revealing top was usually all it took for him to snag off a couple dollars for youâamongst other things. Like the cute ass smile you flash his way whenever youâre geeked out of your mind, yapping on and on about fuck knows what until the words leaving you no longer make sense. Yeah, Choso loves that.Â
Oh, and the tasty gloss you typically coat your lips with.Â
Heâs not some kinda weirdo so he definitely hasnât had any⌠lustful thoughts about said gloss but, he canât exactly avoid getting a taste of it whenever the two of you are cycling a blunt back and forth and bits of it are left clinging to the wrap.
Outside of just smoking his weed and becoming his favorite customer, you also become someone he likes to keep by his side and talk to from time to time. The best discounts from him come after a good smoke sesh that he usually has to beg you to stick around for.
During those, the two of you end up talking each otherâs ears off until it really comes time for you to go.Â
Slowly but surely, the two of you are spotted together more often than either of you cared to be, and dating rumors shuffle about. Theyâre quickly shut down after a couple of parties where youâre spotted letting some other random guy kiss on you but, a certain two individuals try their best to keep it alive.
The individuals in question are none other than Chosoâs closest frat brothers: Gojo and Geto. Those idiots were fully convinced that poor Choso never got any play until he met you, and now theyâre both convinced heâs your loser boyfriend.
Youâre pretty sure they only act like that because theyâre jealous youâre probably getting free weed from the guy while theyâre not.
Little do they know, their perception of your relationship with Choso couldnât have been further from the truth. He was definitely getting play, he was just quiet about it since heâs the kinda guy you wouldnât even realize slept around unless he wanted you to realize it. And as for you, youâre the one who ends up feeling like a loser after a while seeing as every guy you hook up fails to make you cum.
So much so that you were starting to believe there was actually something wrong with you.Â
This all leads to now, as you enter Chosoâs dorm room for the nth time this week to, hopefully, get high enough to distract you from that little orgasmic issue of yours.
As soon as you enter the dorm, your mood is killed immediately.
Sitting in the living room laughing loud as hell, is Gojo and Geto. Both of their heads turn in sync as you walk in, trying to quickly pocket the spare key Choso had made for you some time agoâhaving mentioned something about being too lazy to open the door for you all the timeâand hoping that the two men will leave you-
âLook whoâs here to see her man, awww,â Gojo coos before you can even try to ignore him.
Then Geto follows that up with a cunning, âShouldâ warn you though, your boyfriendâs high as a kite in there.â
Trying not to let their annoying-ass taunting get to you, you settle for a sigh of, âWhen is he not?â before turning the corner and b-lining towards Chosoâs room.
There are some more childish snickers and comments made about you from the two men but you pay no mind to it this time.
Pushing the desired door open, youâre immediately met with a thick heat of smoky air and a completely fogged room. The sound of a towel brushing against the floor as you push the door open makes you look down and you quickly realize heâd been hotboxing all by himself.
âWithout me, seriously?â You hum with no malice behind your words as you slip past the door and shut it behind you, using your foot to nudge the towel back into place and then letting your eyes scan Chosoâs slightly cluttered room.
The man is lying across his bed, dark hair hanging off its edge with the way he splayed out upside down and pinched a rather fat blunt in between the thick of his thumb and index. âYou were takinâ too long,â Choso drawls.
And god, you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was barely even with you right now. He always had a pretty mellow way of speaking but when he was really high, his voice would drop an octave or twoâwords crawling off of his tongue all sleazily and heavy with each syllable.
âYâknow Iâll make it up to you though, here,â He adds on seconds later before you get the chance to settle into his room.
That strong earthy scent coated the entirety of his room as you walked over to the edge of his bed and looked down at him, noticing the jaded reds and pinks coating the typically white portion of his eyes as he batted them up at you. Heâs got some low melodies playing from some corner and it only adds to the ambience of the space. Then, his arm extends and heâs offering you the cause of his fumed room.
Humming, âThank you,â whilst plucking the joint out of his hands, your nails just barely graze his skin. Choso eyes the way you bring it up to your mouth and clasp it lightly in between your lips, leaning down to him and nodding your chin towards the lighter in his other hand.Â
He catches your gesture and hoists it up to spark the blunt for you, hand cupping the air around as he filters through a couple stubborn flicks before a flame adorns the prerollâs end. Chosoâs eyelids are weighted even as he watches you draw in a steady breath to capture the itemâs contents into your systemâquickly moving your hand to the joint afterwards to pry it from your lips and exhale slowly.
Another hum, this time one of approval, ghosts past your lips along with the fumes youâd just let escape you. âYou look tired,â You comment while pulling away.
As you move around his room to plop your back down somewhere and get comfortable, your plug merely mumbles an easy, âMânot.â in response to you.
You shoot him over a look he doesnât quite see, âIf you fall asleep on me like you did last time, Iâm leaving.â
âYou better keep me awake then, no?â Choso chimes with one lazy smirk making the corner of his lips twitch.
Cocking a brow now, âAnd how am I supposed to do that?â you ask.
You then relax down into the chair in front of his desk of scattered papers and unfinished assignments, dragging it over to the side of his bed so that youâre close enough to pass the blunt back and forth.Â
He lifts his head adequately to glance over at where youâre sitting and then offers you a shrug as his hand goes out, âI dunno, you tell me, baby.â
In the midst of taking another long hit and after passing it off to him, you meet his expectant gaze with a certain look, âCho.â
âWhat?â He scoffs immediately. Then heâs sitting up and reaching over to pluck the blunt out of your hand and bring it to his lips, mumbling, âI call everyone thatâŚâ
He knew you didnât care much for the pet name, even though heâs been calling you that ever since the two of you met. You told him about how much you hated the way it fueled the dating rumors and made it harder to get Gojo and Geto shut up. But, when your eyes roll in reaction to what he just said, he lets off a soft whir.
âMh, you didnât like that, huh?â Choso asks you in between several back-to-back hits that youâd normally scold him about. The brown of his eyes glide over your frame and then zero in steadily on the way your lips are moving as you speak.
âWhat?â You huff, âNo, I donât care if you call everyone baby.â A lie, it did bother something deep down inside of you. âI-If anything thatâs a good thing.â You suggest.
To which he extends his hand out to you again, letting a single brow arch up, âYeah?â
âMhm,â Youâre humming. Though, the sound definitely seems like youâre trying to convince yourself hereâŚ
The conversation dies out there for a moment longer than either of you care for and it doesnât go unnoticed, even as the two of you cycle the blunt back and forth until itâs about halfway smoked through.
While you try to relax in the uncomfortable silence thatâs stretching itself out in between the two of you, your mind is unfortunately drifting back to your sexual issue. The weed is supposed to keep your mind at bay and help you relax and yet, today it decided to do everything but that. Instead, your head is very much wracked with annoying flashbacks of the recent times in which youâve been faking your orgasms for the second-rate men youâve been sleeping with.
Itâs not that these thoughts are completely unwelcome but, youâd rather not have them now while youâre busy smoking with Choso. And it really doesnât help that heâs not being his usual talkative self right noâ
âYouâre quiet today,â Choso breaks the silence all of a sudden and the sound of his deepened voice is almost enough to make you flinch. It was like heâd read your mind or something just nowâŚÂ
Spooky.
Youâre slumped back against the chair and staring up at the thickly clouded ceiling, âThink so?â
Choso nods before he speaks. âYeah, whatâs up?â He asks, eyes still watching you as if he were studying your every little move amid the haze, âTalk to me, princess.â
While your stoned brain decides to focus on your lack of orgasms, his mind is unable to drift away from you and the way you look sitting in his bedroom right now. This isnât too unusual for him since weed does tend to help his focus but, normally itâs not on you as much as it is today.
Perhaps that was because of your weird silence. You hadn't even complained about anything yet, which was enough to tell him that something was wrong.
Before you speak, the question rings around your head for a few seconds. Choso has a handful of pet names he uses on people and you know that but, youâre not quite sure if he says that last one to just anybody.
Hence why a delicate, â...Do you call everyone that too?â streams past the gloss of your lips.
âNah,â Choso answers immediately as if heâd been watching the words walk right out of you. Then he tilts his head, âJust you.â
At that, you visibly tense up a little. You hated sessions like this with him. When the quiet got too loud that the mostly dormant emotions began to bloom around you. The warmth you feel flash over your face and cling at your heartstrings is definitely not from the weed but, you try to ignore it.
Heâs been like this a couple times in the past. While he does get sleepy after a long smoke sesh, he also tends to get uncharacteristically direct and soft with you. You remember how one time he went on this looong rant about how pretty you were. But, before you could reply to any of it, he dozed off while mumbling about how he hoped to see you in his dreams that night.
Anytime you bring this up now, he tells you none of that ever happens and that heâd definitely remember doing so but, he doesnât.
âYou gettinâ shy on me now?â Choso asks abruptly, to which you lift your head and look at him. Heâs sitting all the way up now, rolling a few more jointsâas if he needs toâand then glancing to you again, âI said talk to me, whatâs on your mind?â
Your gaze fixates on how careful his thumbs are with the jointâs edges, smoothing over them with the rolling, and only ever taking his eyes off of you to focus on what heâs doing before slipping his tongue out to lick it.Â
A short, âEverythingâŚâ comes out of you in a manner so cliche that it makes him snort.
The unpierced side of his lips quirk up now that heâs half-smiling, âPfft, okay⌠Well, whatâs been going on with you lately? Youâre beinâ dry as hell with me right now.â He points out.
You pout a bit and take your eyes away from him, âI dunno. I⌠Itâs stupid.â
Choso rolls his eyes at you, âDonât you start that shit,â He warns. You know he doesnât like when you beat around the bush but how the hell are you supposed to tell him that youâre quiet today because youâre sexually frustrated? Heâs your dealer, not-, âWeâre friends, arenât we?â He asks, interjecting your thoughts directly before shrugging, âJust talk, girl.â
You scoff a simple, âYouâre so annoyingâŚâ that trails off into another long beat of silence, the only sound coming from his softly moving fingers and the way you take a few more hits of the preroll still in your hands, hoping to gain enough confidence to blurt it out. Then, after a few more carefully thought-out seconds, â...I think somethingâs wrong with me.â You manage.
âSeemâ perfect to me,â Choso blurts out, clearly not thinking twice about the words that just fell off his tongue.
âI-,â You pause to digest the sudden compliment, brushing it off with a chuckle, âI meant my body, Cho,â To which he mutters the same thing and you pretend not to hear it this time as you say, âI dunno if maybe itâs the stuff Iâve been smoking lately butâŚ.â
Some more stillness flies by and this time he seems to be fed up with it.
âBut what? Donât edge me here.â He demands.
The light buzz in your mind serves as a coaxing feeling that helps you finally breathe out, âI canât cum.âÂ
You donât get much of a reaction from him at first. If anything, he looks confused as he cocks an almost innocently puzzled brow, âHuh? Canât come to what?â
âNo, not-,â His literal interpretation of your words ends up making you giggle. Then you sigh, âI meant that I canât orgasm, Choso.â
âWhat?â He questions dumbfoundedly.
âPlease donât make me repeat thatâŚâ You mumble.
âNo, seriously, what?â Choso repeats, looking now as if you have three as he puts everything down and turns his head your direction, âYouâre not gettinâ fucked right?â
Caught off completely guard, âJesus. That's not even what I saidââ
âBut thatâs what that means, right?â He interrupts, waiting for you to meet eyes with him again, âUnless youâre trying to tell me you seriously canât make yourself cum.â
Itâs slow but, you finally manage to look at him, âI canâŚâ
Nodding, âExactly so, that means youâre out there receiving mediocre shit instead of coming to me⌠again.â
If you werenât caught off guard before, you damn sure are now. So much so that you cough in between your next hit, the smoke choking up in your lungs with a slight burn as your zen is thrown off. âH-Huh?â You unintentionally stammer.
Even with your eyes on one another now, he can tell youâre nervous just from talking about this. Smoking was not the cause of that flush in your cheeks and he knows it. Something else definitely had you hot right now.
Chosoâs eyes flick up and down your seated frame long enough to see the way your thighs shift against the seat. Instantly, his tone gets sly, âWhat, you think Iâm only good for weed?â
Your lashes bat, âWell, n-no, butâŚâ
âCâmere,â He cuts off, having lifted a hand to beckon you over with two generously ringed fingers.
Your scoff is instant, âChoso, respectfully, I donât think-â
âMânot askinâ you to think,â He smiles, fingers still waving, âIâm askinâ you to come over here.â
It takes you a bit to digest his words before your body gets to moving and when you haul yourself off the chair, you move to plop down on his bed. Sitting right next to him now, Choso leans over a little and his arm slides somewhere behind you. His hand ends up just a few inches away from your ass, his fingers splaying out against his comforter whilst his head weighs to the side.
His body is hot next to yours. So hot you could practically feel the heat oozing off his frame. And the peering look in his eyes wasnât making it any better eitherâŚ
âHow many times have I told you Iâm here for whatever you need, huh?â Choso whispers, the lowness of his voice causing your hips to twitch a little.
Heâs all focused on you again, even more so now than he had been earlier, and it was almost as though you could feel him everywhere without him even touching you yet. Perhaps it was the cannabis in the air and the way it swirled throughout your system but, all your sensations felt heightened now.
Pulling your head away from him to gain some distance back, âPlenty of times, but..â Your shoulders slump a little, âThis is different, Choso.â
His gaze falls down your body and something husky and wanting sneaks its way into his words now, âHow? You think I canât make you cum?â
God, every time he opened his mouth you felt as though you were losing your mind. And the audacity he had to be so bold with his words on top of that was making it perpetually worse by the minute.
âN-No,â You huff as your head turns back to him and youâre heard gulping thickly at his focus on your mouth. âIâm not saying that butâŚâ You pull your lower lip in between your teeth for a moment to chew while you think. Then, you sigh again, âWell, maybe I am saying that⌠I just thinkââ
âI told you to stop doinâ that,â Choso murmurs, arm snaking around your body so that his hand could land on your hip. He gives you a little pull and almost sounds needy as he utters a husky, âCâmere.â
âIâm rightââ
âCloser, baby.â Choso cuts off, finally tugging you closer so that the side of your thigh brushes up against his. He then takes his other hand and brings it up to your jaw, drawing your face way too close to his. You could smell the viscous scent of weed on his tongue as he spoke given the lack of distance between you both, his eyes never straying away from the soft, soft curve of your lips, âNow, jusâ tell me if you want me to make you cum or not and I got you.â
Your top set of lashes meets your lower ones in slow-motioned blinks as breathing properly grows increasingly difficult, âItâs not that simpleâŚâ
The manâs grasp on your chin grows a little tighter, âIt really is.â
You roll your eyes again âLiterally no guy has made me-â
âDo I seem like every other guy youâve been with?â Choso scoffs, as if he were actually ticked off now. Then he forces your head some more up so that your gaze is meeting his and, fuck. The look in his eyes did something. Looking at you all commanding and desiring like you were the only thing that ever mattered in his life, âDo you want my help or not?â he whispers one last time.
Of course you wanted his help, even though you had your doubts about receiving it. You werenât sure what would be so different with him.Â
Even so, youâre slow to give him a nod of your head and grumble a cute, âYeah,â that has him swallowing down a groan.
Then heâs weighing forward and you barely get to fully shut your eyes before his lips smooth over yours. Catching your hesitance, you feel his thumb slip upwards as he talks into your mouth, âDonât be shy, open up fâme, baby.â
At the sound of that, your lips get to parting over his and his tongue immediately slides right in. Both of your heads tilt off in opposite directions and heâs the first to let out a string of sounds. It starts out with a grunt when you pull back half a centimeter just to slip down and clasp his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling softly.
When you give it an adorable tug and then press forward into the kiss, thatâs when he starts groaning.Â
Chosoâs got no idea how any guy couldâve gotten their hands on all this and then decided not to make sure youâre squirting by the end of the night. He supposes he can thank all those guys now though, seeing as youâre swiftly moving forward with this kiss.
Yeah, it starts out slow and a little sloppy but while your tongues are mingling with one anotherâs and sharing the prominent taste of marijuana, youâre getting eager for more and throwing a leg over him.
Youâre properly sitting in his lap before he realizes it. And the only reason Choso acknowledges it at all is because he feels a rush of heat spark from in between his legs as something rubs over the previously dormant tent in his sweats. He canât even pull away from your mouth to say anything because heâs far too distracted by the gorgeous moan you sink past his lips.
Oh, heâs lost it.
Chosoâs hands grab at your waist suddenly and then squeeze hard enough for you to acknowledge his touch before he smoothes downwards to your hips and pushes your body lower so that youâre flush with him. âMmph,â bursts past his parted lips in the middle of his suckling your tongue deeper into his mouth.Â
The man is all but swallowing up the sweetness against your mouth, quickly growing addicted to it. Weed could never compare to the tasteâa fact of which heâs sure about now. As his tongue soon goes diving down the center of yours, you feel the surprising bud of a snake eye piercing decorating its tip.
Thatâs when one of your hands moves in between your bodies and sneaks under his shirt as you gasp out his name and then pull away.
His lips chase yours as you draw distance and then he hauls your entire body impossibly closer to his, your chest smushed up against him now. In doing so, you roll your hips forward against his naturally and hear the way his breath hitches. Then you feel something.
Poking-, no, jumping up against your clothed cunt in between the many, many layers between the two of you is the thickness of his bulge. And with it comes another wave of sloppy kisses.
Chosoâs hands are everywhere against you now, literally.Â
Something in you seems to snap at the feeling of his cock growing under you and right after you let yourself gasp at the sheer size of it one more time, the hands you had on his chest manage to recline him back against his bed.
Choso hits the mattress with a soft huff of previously lost air and his brows twist up to flash something needy at you. âFuck,â Scratches out of his throat whilst he stares at the way you look on top of him.
So prettyâŚ
Thereâs a single string of shared saliva dribbling out of the corner of your mouth and he almost moans as you start leaning down to him again, his arms moving so that he could wrap them around you. Then your lips meet again and this time it isnât even sloppy, just hungry.
The sound is loud, louder than any kiss youâve had lately, and noisy enough to earn a couple of smiles from him in between all the kissing. Breathing into your mouth, âYou shouldnât have told me that shit,â Choso sears as one of his hands comes up to the back of your head, the other at your neck now. âCanât even calm myself downâŚâ
Followed by his not-so-gentle admission is another heavy pulse from his fully erect cock.Â
You manage to pluck yourself away from his mouth long enough to say, âI donât see why,â Then you snort cockily, âSânot like youâve changed my track record.â
âYet,â Choso quickly corrects. And before you can add another snarky comment in response, âBut thatâs alright, Iâm about to.â He claims, tipping his head back to relax as his hands fall away from your body completely, âCome get up here.â
You blink, âHuh? UpâŚâ Searching his frame as if you werenât already on top of him, your brows tweeze together, â...where?â
Even with the poking of his dick, he takes this moment to gather himself and reach over to swipe up the blunt you were last smoking. Then he shuffles for a lighter and sparks it up again, taking a hit and returning his attention to you as if the little intermission didnât have you on edge.
You had no idea what he meant by âget up hereâ when you were literally sitting in his lap already. Surely he didnât meanâ
âOn my face,â Choso clarifies, a sexy cloud of fumes ghosting out of his mouth along with his words.
At first, you just stared at him and watched him smoke. Your body was thrumming with need in multiple areas but you just couldnât fathom sitting on his face. Surely, thatâd be pretty unsafe to do while both of you are heavily intoxicated. Hell, you can barely see around his bedroom, how can he possibly expect you to sit on his faceâŚ
Well, a few minutes later and youâre halfway there.
Not quite sittingâafter a million and one concerns of being scared to suffocate himâyouâre now hovering over Chosoâs face. You refused to meet eyes with him so youâre turned the opposite direction and your hands are helping your body remain hoisted up as they rest on the bed, caging the lower half of his bodyâjust as your legs were doing to his head right now.
Your pants have been snatched off and youâre completely exposed to the greed of his eyes. Heâs hardly touched you ever since you caved and brought your bare pussy up over his face. Youâve been left to stare at the throbbing bulge that rests a few inches away from your face and you feel awkward.
Yâknow, until thereâs a warm blow of intoxicated air that swirls up against your dripping cunt. Followed by which is the sound of Choso lapping over his lips at the sight, scoffing after. One thumb finally draws up to meet the left lip of your pussy as he slips it over and reveals more of your slicked glory. Your cunt clenches embarrassingly at his first touch and you silently hope he doesnât notice how you drip when he starts talking.
âShiit,â Choso begins, voice heavy in baritone nowâno longer from the weed but purely from his own arousal, âYouâre tellinâ me nobodyâs made this pretty girl cum?â He asks, âWho the fuck have you been goinâ to, huh?â
You glance back at him over your shoulder, hardly able to see his face with the way youâre hovering, âCho, Iââ
âShhh, Iâll take care of yaâ. Donât sweat it.â He claims, to which you roll your eyes. He always fuckinâ says that⌠âNow sit.â
Another gulp is heard from you, âChoso, I already told you. I donât wanna crushââ
Rolling those blown-out brown eyes of his, Chosoâs other hand meets your hip with a mean grip before he tugs your body down and your cunt promptly meets his greedy face. âSo stubborn.â
The gasp you let out at the initial contact of his lips against your wetness makes something inside you crave the ability to disappear. You were hot before but now youâre soaking and heated all over.
Your nerves felt like they were on fire and your hips practically melted downwards when you felt Chosoâs tongue slither out to get the first taste of you. âHnngh-, fuckâŚâ You breathe, fingers curling into the sheets to hold onto.
Youâve gotten head from guys plenty of times but this was so much different. And he only just started!
You definitely had your high to blame for the way his tongue feels glissading upwards in between your lathering foldsâthe sensation so strong and pleasurable you swore for a second he had two tongues or something. Of course, thatâs just the weed talking but shitâŚ
âSâsweetâŚâ Choso mumbles into your cunt, pulling away just to spit and then using the fat of his thumb to rub the slick of it into you, âPoor baby, nobody could make you cum, huh?â He says.
You start to open your mouthâthinking he was talking to youâbut when his thumb presses past that rather welcoming ring of resistance and earns one gorgeous squelch, you quickly realize heâs not talking to you at all.
âYeahh?â He purrs, one eager smile plastering itself out across his face, âYou needed someone to come talk to you directly?âÂ
Choso toys with your insides using only his thumb for a while, grinning wickedly the whole way through as he watches the way your pussy splurts out such saccharine sounds of slick ân filth. Itâs not until your soakage is dripping down his hand that he finds himself grunting and then dragging his thumb out of you tenderly.
Sticking it into his mouth just to suck your taste off for a second, you hear the way he moans around his own digit. Then, before you have time to realize just how wet you really are, there are two dumbly thick fingers slipping past the plush of your folds, wiggling in deep and coaxing a pitched sound out of your throat.
âYâlike that, huh?â Choso mutters from beneath you, jaw already coated with the sweet traces of your taste, âYouâre beinâ so loud, this must feel really goodâŚâ He comments softly. Then his fingers abruptly slip out of you and swat over to your clit to land a couple of wet smacks against, earning nothing more than a whine from you. To which he chuckles and tilts his head at the little quiver your cunt does in reaction, âHah, sâokay, you donât have to answer⌠sheâs doinâ plenty of talkinâ for you.â
Those little smacks of his quickly grow repetitive and as he does so, he lets his jaw fall open and hangs his tongue out to capture the syrupy drip that oozes off of your walls.Â
When he starts working you over his fingers again, you donât even realize the upper half of your body has slumped over until you feel something pressing up against your cheek. Your eyes had fluttered shut and everything, having grown so lost in the pleasure of his fingers that you didnât even realize what youâd laid yourself on.
Lifting your head, you look over and stare at the outline of his cock again. Thereâs a slight patch of wetness where his plump tip is resting and youâre moving before youâre thinking.
âAw-, woahh..â Choso gasps from behind you, to which your senses come back to you a bit whilst you push his sweatpants down. âWhat uh-,â His voice almost cracks for a second there but he swallows the hindrance in his voice down. Then heâs hissing when your hand slips under his boxers and wraps around his curving shaft, âFuck.. whatâre you doinâ?â
The curve in your back deepens and the fingers heâs got inside you now get swallowed up even tighter the second his cock springs out. With wide eyes and a drooling mouth, you donât even hesitate to take his length into your hand and then let your breath hit it as you whisper, âReturning the favor, ChoâŚâ
He scoffs, âYou donât have to-, holy shitâŚâ The mere press of your warm lips against his leaky cockhead is enough to make him whine. And as if encouraged, you quickly spread your mouth over him and ease it down around his dick, letting your tongue lap at the sides upon your descent. âOh god, your throat feels s-so fuckinâ goodâŚ. A-All this and people had the nerve to leave you unsatisfied? Tch.â
Meeting you halfway, Choso dives back into your cunt with the entirety of his mouth. You feel the ball of his tongue piercing tickle your walls as he stretches you out against the glutinous pink muscleâyour moaning around his cock sending filthy vibrations all throughout his body.
His hips thrust up instinctively and his lips pop off of you with a sharp breath, âFuck, princess⌠Do that again, yeah?â
Your cheeks hollow out as your jaw widens and you force yourself down further until his fat tip is bumping up against the back of your throat, earning a nasty gag from you. You try to lift yourself to breathe but youâre met with a sudden pressure at the back of your head as he swiftly pushes you back down.
âHold it fâme,â Choso groans, âNeed you tâfeel me back there,â He adds shortly after. Then, keeping your head still, âThere yaâ go, gooood girlâŚâ He praises as his hips start bucking up again until your eyes are coated with tears.
Truth be told, Choso isnât normally this rough with anyone he fucks. But the high buzzing throughout his brain has him acting different. He can't get over the way your lips feel wrapped around his cock like a warm hug. And the way he slides all the way down your throat perfectly? Oh, youâre lucky he hasnât cum inside your mouth already.
The dark hairs he has decorating the area around the base of his heavy length tickle your chin with how wide your lips are parted around him. You could feel him leaving soggy kisses against your uvula and all it did was make you soak above his face.
When you finally give him another moan as your face presses snuggly against his skinâthe veins trailing his dick pulsing with little heartbeats against your tongueâhe lets your head go. You fly up a bit and start coughing softly, glancing back at him with a pout as you wipe your mouth off, just to see that heâs already moving on to do something else as if he didnât just choke you out on his dick less than two seconds ago.
Chosoâs got a joint perched between his lips as he takes a loooong drag from it and when he plucks it away from his mouth, he takes his free hand and moves it to your hip. You donât even realize whatâs happened until something heated is slapping up against your slobbering cunt. The sensation makes you jump and then Chosoâever the freakâis leaning up to shotgun a kiss directly into the puffy folds of your cunt.
âCh-Choso,â You choke, âWhat the f-fuuckâŚâ
Then your hips are lifting as if to escape him and something throaty and annoyed reverberates its way out of his throat before you feel his painted fingernails dig into your skin and force you back down, his head shaking up into your pussy whilst his tongue lathers into the deepest depths of your slutty cavern.
Then you hear the wet, gushing smacks that his mouth against your cunt begins to make, feeling a certain sensation bloom in the pit of your stomach. Your legs are twitching around his head and youâre whining. âChoso, w-wait⌠please, I-I feel weirdâŚâ
Instead of acknowledging your words, he just groans something filthy and hot against you, âSuch a sloppy pussy, droolinâ allll over me like thisâŚâ He points out. Youâre not sure if itâs possible but heâs clearly high off of you and not just the weed.Â
You try rolling your hips back to see if that would capture his attention but all that does is make his cock drip with creamy slathers of white from the slit. As you notice that, you try to lean down and suck on his neglected tip, hoping that would get his mouth to go easy on you for just a second.
Unfortunately for you, that did the exact opposite.Â
Instead, Chosoâs pulling back to spit a gloopy wad of spit onto your cunt and then scoffing, âYou should tell me-, hah.. who the assholes are,â He mutters, beyond pussy drunk, âThe ones that couldnât make you cum,â His tongue flicks around as if he were spreading his own saliva via spelling something out, âThen let me send âem the sexy lilâ mess mâabout to make of youâŚ.â
Prying away from his cock for a second, âThatâd be so-, mmgh! Right there, ChosoâŚâ
âYeah? Right here? This is the spot they couldnât find? How pathetic,â Heâs searing with his tongue, drawing his name into your gluey walls all cursive-like, making your eyes roll back. âYouâre so easy to please,â He teases, smiling after, âUnless, of course⌠fuck, thatâs only âcause of me?â Choso asks, spitting again just to have the entire space in between your legs a slopped, wet mess, âSâthat what it is? You like the way I treat this pussy?â
âYesss, Cho,â You whine ever so thankfully.
And of course, he leans back up to french-kiss your pussy lips in response. Youâre so high ân horny that you donât even realize the number of times youâd let your shimmery gloss of release coat the insides of his mouth by now.Â
Not until heâs felt smiling into you, âMgh.. again? How many times is that now? Eight?â The number makes you inhale swiftly in surprise, your hand squeezing the base of his cock a bit tighter as you move your head to the side to moan deliciously. âGimme one more ân Iâll give you a breakâŚâ He coos, pierced tongue massaging your sensitive folds now.Â
At that, something prominent builds up within you. âChoso, mmnh! I-I think Iâm⌠ohgod⌠mâgonna cum,â You pant, lazily jerking him off with what little strength you have in your hand.
He snickers, âSilly girl, you already did that. I think whatâs about to happen now is uhâŚâ His voice trails for a moment so that he could plug your hole in with his fingers and curl them against your g-spot, âYouâre about to squirt fâmeâŚâ Choso tells you.Â
And squirt for him you do.
You never thought you could feel pleasure so good that you couldnât even tell youâd finished until you were at the point of squirting. Itâs a weird sensation that makes you moan his name loud enough for his fraternity brothers to hear outside of his room.Â
Your entire body convulses and your mind just blanks out. You think his fingers are somewhere around your clit and his tongue is back in between your slippery walls but you couldnât tell at this pointâall you knew was that you were making a mess all over his face.
And through it, he was down there praising you. âThatâs it, thaaaatâs it, princess..â Letting his tongue dangle out again to slur, âRight on my fuckinâ face, I want everyyy drop.â
Itâs embarrassing for youâyâknow, squirting all over your plugâs face just from his stupidly skillful tongue and fingers. You wanted to hate every second of it, hate how nasty you felt by the time your orgasmic high began to diminish but, fuck there wasn't a single thought left in your brain.
You told the man no guy was making you cum and he did so consecutively without even putting his cock inside you. Not only that, he was faded the entire time!
Arguably, you were too so thatâs likely why you were so sensitive to his mouth to begin with but⌠still.
You feel like you black out after your orgasm but, itâs only for a few seconds. Eventually, your ears catch the loud roar of his groans and bat your tear-coated eyelashes open to see his cock has spilt globs of cum out around your hand. Your grasp on him instantly releases and you scoff softly at the sticky mess.
Both of your orgasms leave your bodies motionless for a long whileâyour frame slumped over against hisâand nothing but the sound of filthy pants echo throughout his fogged room.
Chosoâs the first to eventually break the silence with a breathy, âAnd uh, next time come to me when you wanna get offâŚâ He murmurs, feeling your limp body weight shift against him a little, ââŚnot just for weed, okay?â
âUhuh..â You babble tiredly.
âGood,â He sighs. â'Cause I charge pretty cheap for these sex sessions.â
Freezing, âWhat?â
Choso chuckles, a weary smile painted across his slicked face, âI told you I donât do anything for free, didnât I?â
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Heyy!!! If your requests are open I was thinking of reader doing that trend on leon where you glue the lid on a jar and ask for help but leon just opens it in seconds
Leon vs. Superglued Jar Challenge
A/N: This is such a good idea for Leon (any version tbh), I paused everything to write this immediately!!
You stand at the counter, turning the jar in your hands like it personally offended you. The lid does not budge.
Of course it doesnât.
Because you made sure of that.
Thereâs a faint, traitorous curl to your lips as you glance over your shoulderâalready a little too pleased with yourself.
Your boyfriend is leaning against the doorway, one shoulder braced into the frame, sleeves pushed up just enough to expose his forearms. Your mind lingers, briefly, on the unfairness of how he can dismantle a bioweapon outbreak and still come home and look like that. The stress lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper at his temples, that rugged little frownâif anything, it only makes him more handsome.
Leon taps idly at his screen with that same unreadable calm he carries everywhere, completely unsuspecting.
Perfect.
Because today... you weren't staring simply to admire.
You huffed a bit and tighten your grip on the jar, giving it another very performative twist.
It doesnât move.
You sigh, just soft enough to be heard.
ââŚLeon?â
He hums, low in his throat, not moving yet.
âYeah?â
You hesitateâ still struggling against the jar that's permanently sealed, like this isnât the entire point.
ââŚcan you help me, please?â you pout in frustration. "Dumb thing won't budge."
Thereâs a beat.
When he pushes off the doorway, his hand gently brushes against the small of your back as he steps up beside you. It does something very unfortunate to your heartbeat.
âYou try popping the side?â he hums, voice faintly amused.
You tryâtryâto look a little embarrassed. You even press your lips together, shoulders dipping just slightly, like youâve already accepted defeat.
âYes,â you insist, soft, earnest. âBut itâs really tight.â
His fingers brush yours when he takes the jarâand you have to bite the inside of your cheek to tamp down the grin threatening to surface.
Leon finally glances down at the lid, turning it slightly with the other hand, thumb pressing along the edge like heâs checking the seal.
And thenâ
He twists.
Thereâs a soft, clean pop.
The lid comes off like it was never sealed with the extra strength brand you made sure to buy in the first place.
You gape.
Leon hands it back to you, eyes already returning to the work email on his phone. You barely feel the cool glass as your eyes shift back and forth from him to the open jar in your hand.
It takes him a second.
Then he looks up againâdoes a small double take when he catches your expression.
"What?" He asks cluelessly.
"I-I superglued that," You blurt out. "And you just..."
Leon raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He turns the lid once between his fingers, examining it.
ââŚhuh. Felt normal to me.â
You scoff, shoving lightly at his chestâbut he catches your wrist before you can pull away, and the exasperation melts into giggles as he tugs you closer, pressing a scatter of kisses along your neck, the sound of combined laugher filling the kitchen.
âśď¸ď¸ď¸ď¸ď¸ď¸ Someone Else? (starring . various jjk men)
synopsis . What happens when they find out you have a friend thatâs a little too comfortable with you. pairings (separate) . Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Gojo x f!reader.
content . afab!reader, possessiveness, toxic men, rough sex, reader is oblivious to someone flirting with her, praise, overstim, degrading, non-curse au, dirty talk, filth, theyâre all pretty mean & grumpy, slight edging, mention(s) of squirting, spitting, etc.
word count . 7.8k || author's note: this is a repost from kamitv, so if it looks familiar that's why (also the writing in this is like 2 years old). banner art by Rororogi Mogera!
â Choso Kamo
âMine, mine, mine, mine,â Is just about all Choso could grunt against your lips as he fucked you down into the mattress. âYou understand that, no? All this belongs t'me, princess.â
Panting heavily, nails scraping at his back, pussy stuffed full of cum that was dripping out and down onto the bed so messilyâChoso had you ruined all because he found out you had some guy friend who may have flirted with you today.
âAnswer me, c'mon,â Choso groans. His lips are right against yours, cock buried inches deep into your cunt as your legs remained sprawled out for him.
âY-Yes, Choso-, fuck!â You moan into the air, eyes watering at how rough your husband was being with you.
His head tipped to the side, âWho the hell did that guy think he was, huh? Flirting with you like youâre not my goddamn wife.â
âChoso, p-pleaseââ
âPlease what?â He growls, voice just as rough as his thrusts were with you, âToldâ you I didnât like that guy months ago.â
Your jaw simply hangs open, eyes hardly on your lover above you, âMâsorry.â
Choso scoffs, âI know you are. You should be.â He huffs as his balls slap against your skin with each thrust.
Panting, you gasp out his name, âChosoâŚâ You utter just as a big pout pulls at your lower lip, eyes doe-like as you gaze up at the man.
He cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow at you, his dick twitching wildly inside you, âDonât fuckinâ pouttt,â He coos, âYâlet that guy hug you like that today ând you thought I was gonna be okay with that?â
You shake your head and a whine slips out, âN-No, but-â
âShut up. I wasnât done talkinâ.â Choso cuts off meanly, rolling his eyes afterward, âMonths Iâve been tellinâ you to distance yourself from him and yet here we are...â His body presses into yours and you whimper, feeling his hands grip your thighs tight enough to leave marks.
âChoso.â You call out, as if thatâll give you a second to escape him.
He holds back a whine that nearly escapes his throat due to how pretty you looked beneath him. Even upset with you, his cock pulsed and throbbed inside you by the mere sight of you whimpering below him.
âFuck, I love you baby but damn,â He almost smiles at you, âI thought we talked about this?â
You take a deep breath, âW-We did, I just-â
Chosoâs cock hits in deep, pelvis smacking against you constantly, âIf you make another excuse for him mâgonna stop,â He tells you, hips slowing for only a second.
âN-No. Donât stop, please.â You beg before moving your arms to wrap tighter around his neck and tug him closer.
âMmmh,â He pouts to mock you but canât deny the fact that the way you tugged him closer to you has his mind growing hazy for a second, âDonât stop?â Choso asks.
He continues to slow down anyway, not yet coming to a halt but thrusts turning languid and listening to how your pussy messily slicks up his skin.
âPlease, Cho, m-mâclose.â You whisper, eyes silently begging him.
âAre you?â Choso questions, voice deeper than ever as he smirks, âYâgonna cum fâme again? Wet up my cock so I can send that asshole a picture ând show him whose dick youâre begginâ for every night? Huh?â
Your back arches up off the bed a bit and your legs begin to cage around Chosoâs waist, âHahh, mmgh, t-thatâs so⌠mean, Cho,â You whine in response, pouting again as your eyes water.
His pace had picked back up and you were being fucked into the mattress, a filthy mess of cum dripping down onto the bed below where the two of you were connected.
âMean?â Choso echoes, the coldness of the wedding ring heâs got on his finger pressing further into your legs and making you shudder, âBaby⌠I can show you mean.â
You slide a hand up into his hair and pull his face closer to yours, attempting to kiss him, âChosoâŚâ
He avoids your little gesture and teases you with a smile as he pulls up a little, âI could send him a video.â
âPlease,â You frown at your husbandâs sudden suggestion.
His dripping tip knocks against the hilt of your cunt, stuffing you full over and over before he finally let out a sigh, âTch, fine. I wonât,â Choso hums, leaning closer to your face just like you originally wanted him to before whispering, âBut donât let me catch you around him again, okay?â
You nod and your eyes drop to his lips, âOkay.â
âMh,â Choso hums against you as he finally gives you a slight kiss, feeling how you whine at the loss of the gentle contact when he pulls away, âNow tell me you love me, baby.â
Youâre saying it faster than you could even process, âI love you, Cho.â
Oh his entire body reacts to thatâhips drawing back, tip teasing your folds for a moment as he taunts you, âYeah?â
âMhmmm,â You hum eagerly.
His head tips to the side and he smirks, angling himself so that his cockhead bumps up against your clit, âHow much?â
âLove you sâmuch,â You mumble, a slight whines leaving your throat after.
âAww, do you? Yâlove me so much?â Choso coos. His voice was as deep as ever but soft with you nonetheless before he moves his lips to your ear and shifts his cock back down to your twitching hole. Easing himself back in, âOr do you jusâ love gettin fucked like this?â Choso whispers.
The delicious stretch his cock created as it pushed back inside you had you gasping, âB-Both.â
âBoth, huh?â Choso scoffs and his lips press against the shell of your ear, âFuckinâ slut.â
Then heâs dragging his hips back and rutting them down into you with haste, listening to how each thrust makes you gasp and moan. You were so cute when you couldnât handle him.
Your nails scratched at his scalp and his upper back, leaving bright red marks on his skin and making him hiss. Bulging cock sinking in and out of you so hard that all you could do was hold onto him and moan.
âH-HhgnnâŚâ You cry outâcunt tightening around him and earning a deep groan.
âFuuuck, almost forgot you love that,â Choso huffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, âYâlike it when Iâm mean tâyou, huh?â
âAh, mgh, y-yeahhh,â Your voice comes in a sultry whimper and Choso groans again with how tight your pussy was clinging onto his cock, sucking him in deeper than he could handle.
His breath grows hot against your ear, âSâthat why you let him hug you? You wanted to piss me off?â Thrusting harder and harder with his questions, your eyes begin to roll back.
âM-Maybe,â You manage to respond with a fucked-out smile taking over your expression.
âMaybe? Fuck, youâre so cute, baby.â Choso purrs, âIf you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you and call you a slut, all you had to do was ask.â
And then heâs doing just as heâs describedâplump cockhead abusing your sweet spot by hitting it over and over, âH-Hahh, ah, t-thatâs-, fuck, embarrassing Cho.â
Choso chuckles, âAskinâ for me to do somethinâ Iâve done before during sex isnât embarrassing, baby. Yâknow Iâll do anything you ask of me.â
You start pouting all over again, babbling an âMâsorry,â Without really understanding why youâre still apologizing.
âMhm. Prove it by squirtinâ on me again,â Choso tells you before moving to sit up. He then tugs your thighs over his and fuck does the tip of his dick make you see stars for a second as he repositions himself slightly.
His hands grip onto your hips and he continues his rough pace like itâs nothing, hair disheveled with a few dark strands sticking to his forehead.
âCho,â You say in an attempt to convince him to slow down for a moment.
Unfortunately for you, your voice only drives him crazier. You were so whiny, it caused blood to rush to the head of his cock and his balls to acheâeverything about you was intoxicating.
âIâll send your lilâ friend a picture of these messy ass sheets afterward, âkay?â Choso pants, lips parting as he releases a slight moan from your pussy dripping all over him. Such a messy girl you were, not that heâd prefer you any other way.
âChoso.â You manage almost sternly, sending him a pointed look.
He pouts and decides to play innocent as if his cock wasnât currently tearing you apart, âDonât scold me, I gotta do something, baby.â
Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand down and graze his pelvisâmaking a fail of an attempt at pushing him away, âSânot nice.â
Choso snaps his hips forward as if to make a point and fuck his frustrations right into you, âGood thing mânot tryinâ to be fuckinâ nice then, right?â
â Nanami Kento
Who swears he was never a jealous man. He's seen the way people look at you time and time again and never has he batted an eyeâwhy would he? Nanami's confident in himself enough to know that no other man would come in and steal your heart the way he has.
And such confidence has remained up until today.
After a long day of work, there's nothing he wants more than to come home to his lovely girlfriend whom he's been infatuated with for years now. Yet, today was different.
Walking into the shared apartment, unlike normal, you didn't come running up to him with a hug and a million kisses. Odd, he thought to himself, followed by a call of your name that echoed throughout the home.
"In the kitchen, Ken," You replied back, the sweet sound of your voice making him smile as he puffed out a sigh.
He's not sure where the momentary worry came from, but it subsided as he figured you may have been busy with something. As Nanami takes his jacket off, he moves a hand to loosen his tie, soon raking a hand through his hair afterward.
The house was awfully quiet, void of sounds of cooking or your voiceâwhich was, again, odd. Stepping out of his shoes, Nanami steadily makes his way to the kitchen, soon spotting you and feeling a thousand pounds of stress lift off of his shoulders at the mere sight of you.
And in a sundress no less. You were on your phone, fingers tapping away at the screen with a slight smile on your face, your body bent forward against the kitchen counter with your back arched ever so slightly as you stood comfortably.
The sound of footsteps approaching you made you turn your head toward you boyfriend and flash him a loving smile. "Hi Kento, how was work?" You chirped sweetly.
"Fine, my love. How was home?" Nanami replied sweetly as he leaned down to you. A sudden buzz from your phone made you move your gaze and Nanami found himself giving you a slight peck on your lips but your eyes were elsewhere.
Whatever was on your phone must've been quite intriguing. "Home was wonderful. I did some cleaning today so..." You trail off and Nanami just gazes at you as your words fade away.
His brows begin to push together, "So...?"
You blink a few times, fingers tapping away at your screen yet again, "So uh," Trying to focus on both your boyfriend and the male you were texting at the same time was proving to be rather difficult for you.
Hence why Nanami sighs heavily and moves a hand to your back, caressing you gingerly, "Everything alright, love?"
You nod, "Mhm... Sorry about that, Ken. What was I saying again?" You ask as you turn to him with curious eyes.
He gazes at you, wondering how your attention could be so diverted. This was unusual coming from you but he shrugs it off, "You were telling me about how you cleaned up today?"
"Oh! Yes, I was gonna say I felt rather productive today," You finally get out before, again, turning away and to your phone.
Nanami nods his head, "I see. Is there something going on, sweetheart?"
You chuckle, "What? No, why?"
For a moment, your boyfriend does nothing more than watch how consumed you are by the conversation taking place through text on your phone. "You seem awfully distracted, is all," He sighs.
"Ohhh, no," You smile, "It's just this coworker of mine was wondering why I didn't show up today and then he and I-"
"He?" Nanami echoes aloud mistakenly. He hadn't meant to voice that, it was more of a thought.
Slowly, your head turns to your boyfriend yet again and despite the smile on your face, your brows push together and your expression is skeptical, "Yes, Kento, he. Is that an issue?"
"No, of course not," Nanami shakes his head before glancing off to the side with a shrug, "I just wasn't aware you were so close with any of your male coworkers."
You blink, "I'm really not, it's just him."
For some reason, his heart pangs a bit as you say that, "Just him, huh?" Nanami hums to himself.
"Mhm," You nod. Then, ignoring the clear attitude this has brought on, you turn to your phone and return to your texting.
Steadily, Nanami's eyes trail back over to you and he watches you type before rolling his eyes. He's not even sure why this is bothering him but he then moves to stand behind you, his crotch pressing into your ass as he begins to crave more of your attention.
He's truly not used to it being on anyone else that's not him.
"And what are you two discussing now that's so..." His words trail for a minute, eyes dragging along the slight curve in your back as you remained arched perfectly in such an effortless way, "...Important," Nanami soon finishes with a sharp narrow of his eyes.
"Well, he asked to come over for some reason and I'm not really sure how to respond," You reply honestly as you stare at the most recently received text.
Nanami's head cocks back a bit and he scoffs, "He's asked to come over?"
You nod, "Yes."
There's a pause but then your boyfriend leans forward and you can feel his muscular thighs press into the back of yours as his torso leans over. A hand is placed on the counter beside your waist and you look back over your shoulder to see Nanami nearing you.
His gentle eyes meet yours, "Can I see?"
You grin innocently, having nothing to hide from him whatsoever, "Sure," Handing him your phone, Nanami doesn't hesitate to read the messages exchanged from the past hour or so, seeing that this coworker of yours has been trying to flirt with you for some time now.
"Hm," He hums, "Does he always refer to you as uh," He clicks his tongue and scoffs, "Pretty girl?"
You shrug, "Well, yes and I've asked him to stop-"
"And yet you keep talking to him instead of blocking his number?" Nanami cuts off faster than he means to, eyes flipping up from the phone and to your face.
You flash a sheepish little smile, not exactly understanding the issue here, "I mean, he is my coworker."
For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. Nanami seems to be bothered but not exactly upset just yet, his brown eyes boring into yours as you have this completely clueless look on your face.
Weighing his head to the side ever so slightly, "...That enjoys flirting with you despite knowing you have a boyfriend?" Nanami finishes your statement for you questionably.
You bat your eyes at him and your brows go up, "W-Well-"
"Y'know what," Nanami places your phone down, "Why don't you invite him over?" He suddenly suggests.
Youâre taken all the way back by the sudden statement, giving your boyfriend nothing more than a blank stare before uttering a baffled, "Huh?"
"Tell him he can come over,â He repeats, sliding the phone toward your hands and then moving his own to his belt. Thereâs a slight shuffle as he unbuckles his belt, the simply clacks making your heart skip a steady beat as you realize where heâs going with this. âI should be done by the time he gets here,â Nanami says.
Again, you blink in a confused manner before taking your phone up and doing as heâs just suggestedâtelling your coworker he can make his way over to you.
After which, you turn off your phone and return your eyes back to your boyfriend whose hands were busy tossing his belt onto the nearby floor. Your eyes then dropped down to his crotch and you swayed your hips to the side a bit to get a better lookâspotting the heavy tent in his pants and gulping at the sight.
âKentoâŚâ You hush out, earning a hum from him, âIs everything alright?â Your tone was so very soft and sappy with him, the sound making his heart ache in emotions beyond comprehension.
âOf course, my love,â He replies gently, sending you a quick smile, âI just need you right now, is that okay?â
Your gaze lifts and you meet his pretty brown eyes, lashes fluttering at how handsome he looks standing behind you, âYou know thatâs okay Ken, Iâm all yours.â
He just about forgets the idea of restraint after that statement of yours. Of course he knows youâre all his but hearing it come out of your mouth with zero hesitation even after having another man flirt with you wasâŚ
Well, it was reassurance. Reassurance Nanami didnât realize he enjoyed hearing.
Which is why he has you repeating similar phrases like that within the next few minutes as he fucks you into the kitchen counter.
Hips bruising with the way they were pressed into the counter edge, panties tugged to the side and nearly ripped off of you, back arched like a goddamn slut for your boyfriend, and messy folds stretched open as Nanami pounded his heavy cock into your tight holeâyou were soon on cloud nine.
âRepeat that for me love,â Nanami grunts, breath coming out in heavy pants as his hips clash into yours over and over and over again.
You could hardly breathe properly and your mind was all frazzled, nearly everything that came out of your mouth was a moan and yet he still expected you to speak to him.
âK-Kento,â You gasp his name in erotic breathes, âFuuuck, hahh, I⌠I said mâall yours,â
A sharper thrust is given in response to you, one of his hands gripping onto the bundled part of your dress at your lower back and the other coming down hard on your ass, âYeah? All mine to ruin, right?â Nanami huffs out.
All you could do was nod, âUhuh.â His hips were to damn harsh against your ass, thick cock drilling into your hole despite how lovingly he was speaking to you not too long ago.
âAll mine to fuck senseless,â Nanami continues, his aroused tone making your cunt tighten around him.
Your jaw falls open as he starts knocking into that sappy spot inside you, each thrust making your legs quake and the fat of your ass ripple against him, âYes Ken-, f-fuck.â You stammer, eyes watering and your nails scraping against the counter.
âOh darling,â He groans, tossing his head back and then moaning at how wet you were for him, how easy it was for his cock to slide in and out and in and out, âDo you have any idea what you to tâme? Huh?â Nanami huffs.
âMhmm,â You barely whine in response, your body jerking forward with his every mean thrust.
Steadily, he rolls his head back into place, eyes glancing down at the obscene stretch of your pussy lips around the shaft of his cock, âAre you sure? Yâknow it upsets me to see another man flirt with you,â He says, voice surprising sturdy despite how well youâre taking him.
âMâsorry Ken,â Youâre quick to apologize as if youâve done something wrong and your boyfriend frowns at you.
âHuh. No need to be sorry, sweetheart,â Nanami coos, and god you feel your legs drawing together at how gentle his tone is with you. âSânot your fault, you didnât do anything wrong,â He whispers.
Followed by which is the slight shift in his hips, angling his thrusts a little and causing your entire body to twitch below him. Nanami knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand.
How could he not? Heâs studied you very closelyâhence why the slight shift causes the curve of his cock to just drill into you so hard that youâre seeing stars.
âMmgh, ahh, hahh, K-Kento,â You whine, your torso beginning to lift from the counter as if to try to escape his thrusts for a moment.
Jaw gone slack, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, nails scraping for some kind of hold, and legs shaking as they drew togetherâyou were losing your mind.
âHm?â Nanami replies so simply, too simply, as if he wasnât currently fucking the air out of your lungs.
You gasp and your voice grows airy, âFuck-, oh fuck⌠mâgonna cum again.â
He tilts his head and smiles, âAgain? Aw, youâre so messy for me today,â Nanami says before his hand shifts into the arch of your back and he presses you down onto the counter.
Pinned, you could no longer try and escape his mean thrusts for even a second. Nanami was relentless with you, cock fucking you full, pussy drooling against him, coating his veinsâyou couldnât even formulate proper sentences anymore.
âHhggnh, hahhh, ah, ahâŚâ You moaned loudly with not a single care in the world, eyes rolling back as your cheek pressed into the cold kitchen counter.
âSo loud too,â Nanami comments. Then heâs leaning closer to you, cock bottoming you out and making you gasp and whimper.
âKenn,â Is all you could say for a moment, eyes watering and breath leaving you.
His voice is suddenly next to your ear as his muscular frame leans over yours, âYes love? Iâm right here.â He emphasizes that last word with a deep thrust, making your legs nearly give out for a second.
âI know, I know-,â You babble, trying to pull your head away from his to escape his deep tone in your ear. âFuck, fuuck, I feel you sâdeep.â You whimper again, pouting while trying to catch a moment to breathe.
âMmhmm, feel me riiight there, huh?â Nanami asks. And god was he right where you wanted him, fat cockhead jerking into your sweet spot and turning your legs into utter mush beneath him.
âY-Yes, yes, m-mhmm,â Your squeeze shut and a tear rolls down your cheek, heavy pants leaving your throat, âShit.â
Nanami moves to kiss the crown of your ear lovingly, âAw, look at you. You close, pretty?â
Youâre quick to nod without second thought, âYes.â
âCâmon then,â His lips move and press against your ear, âGive it to me.â
And then youâre coming undone, repeating his name over and over, âK-Kento, Kento fuck-, Ken.â He loves it too, smiling against your ear as he grunts at the way your cunt throbs and twitches as you cum on his cock.
âHahh, you sound so pretty moaning my name like that,â He comments before pulling away from your ear, âLook at me while you do it this time,â He utters, earning a steady turn of your head as you angle it back to meet his gaze. Then he smiles at you, hips rolling into you and tip smearing against your gummy walls, âMhm, thaaatâs itâgood girl.â
âMmh, mmgh!â Your eyes flicker as he slows down to you can really feel him. âAhh⌠K-Ken,â You whisper.
His cock aches inside you, âRepeat that, whatâs my name?â
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to maintain eye contact, âKento.â
âWhose cock are you makinâ a mess on right now?â He questions, tone a but harsh with you as he drags his hips back.
Snapping them forward just as you answer him, you end up stuttering, âY-Yours Ken.â
âMhm,â His brows tense as he pulls back yet again. This time, he moves a hand around and grabs ahold of your jaw, tugging your body up off the counter a bit and your face closer to his, âLast question. Who do you belong to, hm?â
âY-You Kento, mâall yours,â You pant, lips wet with drool and eyes glossy from tears.
All Nanami does is flash a slight smile before heâs rutting his cock right back into you, watching and listening to the way oxygen leaves your lungs, âThatâs right. All fuckinâ mine.â Nanami groans, lips nearing yours with the way he pulls you closer to him. Then heâs whispering, âAnd your little coworkers gonna understand that after today.â
Just before his lips are on yours, you manage a staggered little, âW-What?â In question.
He chuckles, âOh, you didnât hear him? He knocked on the door a few minutes ago,â Nanami tells you, watching your entire face twist up as youâre too fucked out to really understand that. âIâm sure he heard you moaning my nameâŚâ
â Toji Fushiguro
âSo, you hate me, huh?â Toji dramatically huffs out as soon as the two of you enter your home again.
You groan and stomp off to your shared bedroom, trying to escape your annoyingly jealous husband due to whatâs recently occurred. Youâre apparently not allowed to be friends with his friendsâor at least, not Shiu Kong allegedly.
Tojiâs quick to stride into the bedroom behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you storm around the room with a smirk on his face. You were so cute when you were annoyed with him.
Tipping his head to the left, his eyes narrow at you snatching your jacket off as you tried to give him the silent treatment, âNot sure why youâre so upset, yâknow. I wasnât the one pressinâ my tits into someoneâs face,â He scoffs.
His hands lift out of his pockets and he crosses his arms over his beefy chest, eyes yet to leave your overly annoyed figure standing by the bed.
You send him a pointed glare before openly rolling your eyes at him, letting him know youâre upset.
Toji cocks his head back at the gesture and his brows raise, âFucksâ your problem, huh? Mad at me âcause of somethinâ you did?â
âNo, Fushiguro. Leave me alone,â You huff, frustrated frown etching its way across your lips.
âOhh, now she decides to speak? And she uses our last name to address me too?â Tojiâs baffled by your little attitude, a bit entertained, but baffled nonetheless.
You sigh loudly and move to grab your nearest sweatpants, âLeave me alone.â
âWhy, huh?â Toji scoffs, âYâmad about what I said to Shiu?â
Your eyes move to a slow blink before you click your tongue, âWell, seeing as you told him never to come around us again and that Iâm, apparently, ânot his fuckinâ friendâ, maybe.â
Toji doesnât react much to you mocking him and his expression stays relatively the same, âThe hell is wrong with my statement?â
âI made a mistake and you took it out on him,â You explain as you tug your sweats on and move to take your shirt off.
âNo, you both made a mistake ând Iâm takinâ it out on both of you.â Toji corrects. He was a bit more upset than he led on, âYour dumb ass leaned over him for some stupid fuckinâ water bottle and his eyes went to your tits as if it were second nature.â
You grit your teeth, âIt was an accident Toji.â
âNah, fuck that. Accident my goddamn ass, how many times has he looked at you like that, huh?â Your husband suddenly questions, sounding like he was implying something more as he took a step closer to the bed.
Your brows push together and you shrug, âI donât know-â
âOh and letâs not forget the way he grabbed your waist to, what?â He scoffs, ââHelpâ you? âKeep you steadyâ?â Toji continues, hardly giving you a second to even try and respond, âNot sure where yaâ brainâs at today doll, but Shiu is way too fuckinâ comfortable touchinâ you and I donât like it.â
You shoot him nothing more than a blank yet frustrated stare, âToji.â
His eyes are already on yours, giving you the same energy through his looks, âWhat?â
Sighing, âYouâre being dramatic.â You tell him.
That ticks him off just right because then his face is twisting up into a scowl, âDramatic? Iâm being fuckinâ dramatic? Donât piss me off,â Toji warns.
You find the nerve to laugh at him, âDonât piss you off? Toji youâve been whining about this all damn day. Itâs over now, isnât it?â
He decides to ignore your little jab at him and he steadily walks over to the side of the bed youâre standing at, âNo, itâs not. You havenât even apologized.â
You chuckle, âFor what?â
He finds himself standing not too far from you, glaring at your confused facial expression, âBeinâ mad at me for no damn reason, thatâs what.â
You roll your eyes at him again, âToji you told me I canât be friends with your friend.â
âMaybe because he wants to fuck you?â Toji fires back.
Another scoff leaves you and you start shaking your head at your husband's ridiculous claims, âHe doesnât.â
âSoo, he just looked at your tits for no reason?" Toji asks, leaning toward you a bit and tilting is head as if to intimidate you, "He grabs your waist ând says, 'I got you sweetheart' for no fuckinâ reason, right?â
Your throat runs dry at that. You may have forgotten Shiu said that to you, having not really paid much attention to it when he did, âI-â
âDo you not know what the fuck flirting looks like?â Toji lectures, taking one last step toward you so that his body was hardly an inch away from yours.
Your head tips back a bit so that you could look up at him, swallowing hard at how upset your husband seems to be and all your confidence on the matter nearly fading. âI do, but-â
âThere is no but. He wants to fuck my wife," He interrupts, "Why the hell would I let you two be friends knowing that?â
That's when you sigh again, âToji, you donât know that he wants to fuck me, youâre assuming things-â
One of his hands flies up to his face and he starts rubbing his temples out of pure frustration, âWoman, he checks you out at every chance he gets when he thinks Iâm not payinâ attention.â
âHe-â
âHe touched you all too inappropriately, right in front of me," Toji reminds you.
You try to take up for Shiu's actions, still not seeing what the issue behind it was, âHe was making sure I didnât fall over.â
A little pissed of smirk tugs at the corner of Toji's scared lips and he turns his head to the side as he looks away from you, scoffing, âRiiiiight.â
âIâm serious!â You utter pleadingly.
âSo..." Toji slowly returns his gaze to you and his voice gets stern, "You donât see anything sexual behind a man holding your waist and saying 'I got you sweetheart'?â
âNo.â You reply confidently.
âHm. Alright, then." Your husband nods before he's moving to pull his shirt up and over his head, your eyes widening at the man as one of his hands then go to your waist and he tugs your body to his, "Lemme show you somethinâ if thatâs the case...â
And then youâre on the bed with your husband moments laterâbouncing up and down on his hard cock as Toji fucked up into you, your tits jumping in his face, jaw hanging open, and his hands holding right onto your waist.
âSee what I mean now?â Toji huffs, âSee how fuckinâ sexual this shit is?â
âT-Toji-, hahhh, fuck, t-this is so much different," You moan at the constant stretch of his fat cock rutting up into your swollen folds, one of his thumbs at your clit as rolling circles over the twitching bud.
âYeah, âcause Iâm doinâ what he fantasizes about," Toji tells you, smiling a bit as he watches your face twist up.
Your brows tensed and your jaw fell as his leaky cockhead drilled deep into you, âM-Mmgh, s-so⌠big.â You whine with your hands at his shoulders and nails scraping him as his harsh thrusts made your body jerk upward.
Toji's steel grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you from falling off of you, his fingers digging into your skin. Every time he thrusted his hips up, he'd use his grip to tug you back downâforcing your cunt to spread open over his aching cock over and over, âAww, donât worry sweetheart, I gotchuâ."
You gasp at his words, core throbbing due to his heavy tone, âFuck-â
âYeahh, see how fuckinâ wet that shit made you? Knewâ you werenât fuckinâ stupid," Toji grunts out. He was so mean to you, taking out his frustrations from earlier on your pussy by soon spitting down on the, already, filthy mess below, adding to the slickness of it all and making you twitch.
Your hips try their best to keep up with him, rutting and rocking forward to keep his cock sucked deep inside you, âS-Shut up,â You tell your husband only to earn a scoff.
âNahh," Toji begins to move his hands and your heart jumps. He tugs your torso near his before he's wrapping his big arms around your waist, locking you into place above him with your chest sandwiched against his, "Apologize tâme."
Your brows furrow and your eyes gloss over as his hips begin to pound his swollen cock up into you, obscene squelches of your cunt following as he does so. Your words come out in a whiney stammer, âF-For what-â
âPlayinâ fuckinâ dumb, thatâs what," Toji cuts off, eyes staring right into yours as he watched your face sink into that pretty fucked out state.
âShiit," You gasp at how you couldn't move an inch, couldn't pull away or slow his thrusts down for a moment, forced to take every thick inch of his cock, "O-Okay, mâsorry-,â
Toji smiles, âAgain.â
âMâsorry Toji," You whine. His arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you couldnât even look away from him. You were both embarrassed and being fucked to tears simultaneously.
âMmmh, without the mumblinâ this time," Toji instructs, gaze dropping to your wet lips so he can watch how you struggle, "Talk proper to me, girl.â
And of course, right after he he says that to you, he decides to then flip you both over so he's on top. âI-, hahh," You pant at the way his hands move to your legs and press them down against your chest, folding you up just how he wants to. "Iâm⌠s-sorry Toji," You cry out.
With the way he's bucking his hips down into you, suddenly calculated with his thrusts and making your eyes go wide. You were on the verge of screaming his name with how good his cock felt splitting you open.
âClose, but yâstill stuttered," Toji tells you. His breathing was growing just as heavy as yours but that didn't stop him from teasing you for even a second.
âFuck you-," You breathe out, earning a smile from him, "...Iâm sorry.â You end up saying anyway because how could you disobey your husband when he's got you folded up like this, his veins throbbing against your gummy walls as you squeezed the life out of his cock.
Toji tilts his head a little, âSorry what?â
âI-Iâm sorry Toji," You correct yourself before he's leaning his weight onto you and god his cock pushes impossibly deeper. You were so full of him that air was getting hard to come by.
âOneee more time fâme, baby," Toji whispers all of a sudden, his face close to yours and your legs practically over his shoulders. "Câmon, you can do it.â
âHhgnnn⌠oh-, mmgh⌠IâŚ" Your jaw falls open again and you struggle. His cockhead was hitting your insides right where you needed him, you could feel your core tensing and your legs going numb, "...Iâm sorry Toji.â
Your husband smiles at you, âThere yaâ gooo, attaâ girllll.â He praises, feeling the way your pussy narrows tightly around his cock just as you start cumming on him.
âFuck.â Is the most you could get out of your mouth that wasn't an incoherent moan.
Then Toji notices you trying to move your hands to push him away a little and he softens his tone, âHey, stop thaat, donât give out on me," Toji coos, the sudden softness making your stomach churn before he moves a thumb to your clit again, "I gotchuâ, pretty girl.â
âF-Fuck. Ohmygod-â Your back arches up off the bed a bit and you whimper.
Toji just gawks at you, âUhuh, now⌠yâwonât talk to Shiu again after this, right?â He questions, juuust to be sure you got the message after all this.
You nod in agreement, âN-No, I-, mmh, I won't t-talk t'him againâŚâ
Fat cock rolling down into your pussy, your slick making his cock slid in so easily, âY'sure?â
You nod, âYes.â
Toji pouts a little just to mock the face you were making, âYes who?â
Your eyes just barely meet his and his thumb presses against your clit, making your voice come out in a moan, âYes Toji.â
âMh," He hums, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "Good girl.â
â Gojo Satoru
He doesnât even let you explain yourself.
One ninety-second hug with some guy you claim youâve known since college, his arms around your waist and yours wrapped around his neckâwas just about all it took for Gojo to get the picture.
Then there was the way the guy whispered into your ear and you laughed-, no, giggled at whatever was said.
What else does Gojo need to know after that? Clearly you forgot who youâve been dating for the past few yearsâŚ
Which is why Gojo reminds you through rough backshots in the backseat of your car as soon as you return to him. He hand a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing your face down against the carseat as his toned hips clashed into your ass.
Swollen cockhead pushing past your twitching folds for the nth time while he bullies into your pussy. The loud smack of his balls against you fills the entirety of the vehicle, Gojoâs free hand pressing down into your arch and furthering it for him so he could angle his dick into that spot that makes you utterly weak.
âWonder what the hell was so funny,â He huffs. Heâs breathless by this point, having been dirty talking your ear off and giving you no time to respondâtelling you how pretty your pussy looks taking every inch of him and how cute you sound crying his name into the seat.
âM-Mmgh, hnngh⌠ahh, S-Satoru,â Your voice was muffled against the carseat but neither of you cared, he heard you clear enough.
âHm? What was so funny, baby? Tell me,â Gojo requests, not slowing his thrusts down for even a moment.
Merciless, he was. Fucking you like you were a goddamn slut off the street and he was a sex-deprived man, his pelvis was so angry against you, leaving marks with how harshly it met your ass, a hand moving every now and then just to palm the fat of the slight curve.
You were too busy drooling onto the carseat, cockdrunk out of your mind and fucked out beyond belief. You donât think Gojoâs ever fucked you this hard beforeâthe car was rocking with his every thrust and youâre pretty sure your muffled moans could be heard from outside the vehicle.
Sure, your windows had tint on them but it still wouldnât take a genius to figure out what was going in within the car.
âWhat was he sayinâ tâyou? Huh? Was he tellinâ you how badly he wants to fuck you? Sâthat why you laughed?â Gojo scoffs, still giving you no time to respond whatsoever, âIâd laugh too, shit⌠No one gets to fuck you aside from me, after all.â He finishes off with a cheeky little shrug.
You hated how much he was rambling right now but your brain was too consumed in pleasure to really care, âToruu, fuuck-, oh, mmhâŚâ
âNo one else gets to feel this pussy wrapped all pretty around their cock, right?â Gojo groans, tossing his head back and drilling himself into the hilt, almost as if he were trying to reach deeper, âJusâ me?â
All you can do is hum messily, âMhmmm.â
He lets out a breathy chuckle and his hand lands across your ass again, head moving to look down at the marks heâs left thus far before he cracks a smile, âSay it.â
âJ-Jusâ you, âToru.â Your voice was small, hardly audible but Gojo didnât much care, heâd heard enough anyway.
So, he smiles at your struggle in speech, finding you nothing but adorable in this state, âYeahh, thatâs my girll.â
Then heâs moving his hands, feeling every inch of your body like he always does. Thereâs never a single part of you that goes untouched by Gojo Satoru when he fucks you. And as of right now, his large hands were taking place on your ass, spreading you apart to get a better look at your wet parted folds sucking in his cock.
âPussyâs soooo fuckinâ pretty taking my dick like this too. I mean damn,â Gojo lets out a moan in between his sentence, unable to help himself at the sight before him, âLook at her drip all over me. Sheâs nasty, baby.â
Then heâs slowing his thrusts, but not stopping. Instead he gets calculated, fucking his cock in slow but pointed, top poking at your gummy spot and making your legs quake.
Drool smears across your cheek and your face was a goddamn mess but, youâd worry about all that later, âSâtoruâŚâ
âMhm, I know, youâre about tâcum again, huh?â Gojo hums sweetly, the wet sounds of your cunt taking him in making his brows tense.
You were in complete disarrayâdebauched and filthy just how he liked. Shooting a glop of spit down onto his cock, he watched with a smile as he eases forward before thereâs nothing more than an inch left out of you, only to thrust the last bit in and watch your fingers curl as you scrape against the seat.
âUhuhh,â You breathe helplessly.
Gojo cocks his head to the side, âGonna make another mess on me, pretty girl?â
âY-Yeahh.â
âMhm, good,â Gojo praises lightly before pulling out. He takes his cock into one of his hands and taps it against your pussy folds, listening to the light and wet smack his cock made against you and biting his lower lip, âBut yâknow⌠I wonder what had you so wet, baby.â He teases.
That was the only chance you got to catch your recently lost breath and you angle your head back a little to look at him, âHm?â
Gojoâs eyes were down as he watched himself play with your pussy, smearing his leaky his tip in between your folds, âWas it him? Did he tell you how pretty you looked today? Hm?â Gojo wonders, âSâthat why your cunt was droolinâ before I could even get your panties off?â
Your brows tense and you try wiggling your hips back a little, âN-NoâŚâ
âNo? Aw, so what was it then?â Your boyfriend questions curiously. Heâs now pushing an inch in and out of your cunt, watching how your pussy twitches every time he pulls out and chuckling at you, âSurely it wasnât the way I was rubbinâ my fingers against you⌠Nah, you were too busy thinkinâ about that other guy, right?â
You groan, âNo, âToru.â
He snickers, âNo? Buut, you guys looked like you had a great convo.â
âW-We did but thatâs only cause⌠hahh⌠mmmh, I-,â Gojo starts inching more of his cock into you and you struggle to finish explaining. After taking a deep breath, âI spent the whole time talkinâ a-about you.â
âAww, really?â His hips snap forward after you say that, âFuck, you bragged about me?â Gojo moans out, face growing hot with arousal.
Nodding, you hum in response, âMhmm.â
âShiit, that almost makes me feel bad,â Gojo pouts a little before shifting his palm over your ass, caressing your skin tenderly.
Heâs still rutting his dick in and out of you but his voice and his touch is much softer.
âW-Why?â You ask.
âCauseââŚ. Iâm fuckinâ you like you did somethinâ wrong for no reasonâŚâ Gojo whispers, seeming to be disappointed in himself for a second.
Then, he sees the way your eyes go back as his cock hits that one spot again, âMmgh.. S-Satoru, r-right thereeâŚâ
And with that, heâs no longer disappointed and shrugs off all his doubts, going on to fuck you like heâs mad at you, âSâokay thoâ, you like me like this anywayâŚâ
geto suguru is everyoneâs first crush. having a crush on him is as hopeless as it is inevitable though your friends quickly disagree that the awe-struck, mouth gaping expression is a strictly you thing, and that he isn't as much of a campus celebrity as you believe he is. regardless, you're determined to put your inability to hold a conversation with him in the past. the solution is simple, you seek out his best friend. if geto suguru is everyoneâs first crush (again, a completely objective statement), then gojo satoru is everyoneâs first heartbreak.
pairing: frat&icehockey!gojo x reader
content: mdni, idiots in love, oblivious reader, babyâs first kiss + virginity taken by same person (satoru ><), suguru as the wingman, a little angst, mostly fluff + crack !! titjob, a little spitting, p in v, degrading, oral, fingering handjob etc etc 37k+
note: happy belated national arabian horse day! this was meant to come out on the 19th but life got in the way... regardless of the day hit up a friend and start beating a dead horse to celebrate!
Geto Suguru is everyoneâs first crush.
Your friends insist youâre seeing him through some delusional rose-tinted lens and that he is, in fact, not as much of a campus celebrity as you believe him to be. You reject that notion. One look at him from across the room, other party goers be damned, is all it takes to confirm what you already know.
Geto laughs at something one of his friends says, tipping forward slightly as the alcohol softens his movements. You catch the tail ends of his laughter through the thumping bass, the glint of light reflected off his lip piercings when he smiles wide, his hand running through his untied black hair.
It would be as easy as walking up and saying hi to start a conversation. It would be as easy as smiling for him to turn his head and grace you with a smile of his own.
Oh, what you would give to be bathed in his gaze, for that pretty smile to widen at the sight of you. Heâd spot you through the crowd, youâd tuck your hair shyly behind your ear and heâd politely excuse himself from his conversation to walk over to introduce himself to this mysterious beauty from across the room.
Shoko makes a noise like sheâs strangling herself but when you turn to save her, sheâs staring at your face. âDo you have any idea what you look like right now?â
âWhatâs wrong? Did I smudge my liner?â
You pull out your phone to check your makeup using the reflection but between the flashing lights and someoneâs elbow jutting from your peripheral, youâre only eighty percent sure you donât look a mess.
Considering you dragged your roommate out to this party last minute, Shoko sips her drink with commendable patience. âEven if you did, that would be the least of your worries. Look, you really donât have to overthink this. We didnât just spend all night planning this for you to end up weirding him out with that look in your eye.â
âShit, that was the rehearsed deer look I was talking about!"
âRehearsed how?"
You decisively ignore her. âI just want to do this right."
Her eyes soften slightly. Sheâs always been weak to your woes. âYou will. Heâll love you. If you donât believe in yourself, believe in me. I promise you, Iâve known this guy for years and youâre exactly the type of person he just eats up.â
You think of all your attempts to enter Getoâs world. There's just something mystifying about him, some kind of aura he emits that has you tripping over your tongue and freezing at the worst moments. Your words become stilted, your humour and wit abandoned at every crucial moment, causing you to simultaneously dread talking to him as much as you wished for it.
Shoko turns you to face her, eyes steady in a way yours isnât. âAre you ready?"
You let out a slow breath and attempt to mimic her determination with a single nod.
âThen go find him.â
When you hesitate to even take a single step forward, Shoko gives you a push and then youâre off, legs moving without another thought. The crowd swallows you, bodies brushing past and jolting your shoulders, knocking you here and there. But none of that matters. Not when your heart is already set. Not when determination is the one thing keeping you upright, guiding you closer and closer to the boy who somehow makes a packed, sweaty houseparty fade into background noise
For too long, youâve let this intoxicating feeling linger, letting it settle deep in your chest, almost convincing yourself that watching from the sidelines was enough. As if anything short of his eyes on you, perhaps even his lips on yours, could quiet the restless longing twisting in your heart. Limerence is what Shoko diagnoses you with, but the word feels too small for the intensity that surges through you every time his name crosses your mind.
Geto appears like a beacon before you, the crowds having finally parted enough for you to catch a good look. The party music transitions to an angelic choir but admitting that is basically affirming Shokoâs concerns that your infatuation is unhealthy, so you quickly refocus. Your heart clenches, pounds against your ribcage, and you only hope the dim lighting will hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. Heâs right there, right within reach. All you have to do is say his name.
All you have to do is make him see you.
You take a step forward, mumble an apology to the girl you bumped shoulders with, take another step towards where heâs laughing with a friendâthen veer sharply to the right and slip into the kitchen.
If talking to Geto were really as easy as saying hi, you would have done it months ago.
The kitchen is quieter, the bass reduced to a distant, muffled thump and you can finally breathe as the crowd thins. Thereâs still chatter though significantly more bearable and your eyes fall onto the small cluster of boys within, standing in the near dark.
Your feet instinctively slow but Shokoâs voice in your head tells you that youâve done too much to stop now and with a deep breath, you step beyond the threshold.
One by one, the group takes notice of you, their rambunctious laughter quietening into soft chuckles as heads pop up to look. Itâs not strange for someone to enter the kitchen at a party so the most you get is a head nod in greeting before they return to their conversation.
You reach for a red cup and then for a jug of some mysterious jungle juice.
Unfortunately, the jug sits behind one of the boys. Even worse, it sits behind who youâre really here at the party looking for.
Leaning lazily against the counter and nursing a red solo cup of something strong no doubt, stands Gojo, Getoâs best friend.
If Geto Suguru is everyoneâs first crush (again, a completely objective statement), then Gojo Satoru is everyoneâs first heartbreak.
You can feel the burn of Gojoâs stare as you get close enough to lift the jug and pour, hands trembling slightly. Before you can help yourself, you steal glances from the side of your eye, landing squarely on his shirt specifically at the crude letting that reads âTwo Seaterâ, arrows pointing abashedly toward both his crotch and his face.
You look back up immediately. You donât want to know.
The punch sloshes into your cup, some of it missing due to your shaky hands and you donât notice until a sticky trickle runs over your fingers. You hastily stop pouring and lick at the mess.
Before you can figure out how to announce your presence, thereâs a rush of footsteps and another frat boy appears. Hikari, you think his name was, stands by the kitchen entrance, hair slightly disheveled from his usual style, loud and demanding as heâs always been.
âHey!â he calls, scanning the room. âYou guys need to come see this.
A chorus of half-drunk âwhat?â and âsee what?â answers him like a herd of seagulls.
âIn the living room,â he says. âThere's two people on the floor andââ He stops, glancing over his shoulder like the situation might escape him if he looks away for too long. âJust hurry up!"
His vague words cause curiousity to spread faster than wildfire. The group of boys begin funnelling out of the kitchen, cups still in hand, voices rising with excitement.
âWhat is it?"
âIs it a fight?"
âPlease tell me itâs a fight.â
âDid someone break something?â
Hikari doesnât elaborate, instead turning and leaving the kitchen, confident the herd will follow. One friend, Choso if you remember correctly, looks back at Gojo who remains calmly drinking from his cup, still leaning against the counter beside you
âArenât you coming, Satoru?â
Gojo shrugs, tipping back the last of his drink. âNah. You go on ahead.â
Choso hesitates like he wants to ask why, then seems to think better of it.
âSuit yourself,â he mutters, already backing toward the door as someone behind him shoves past with a whoop.
Within seconds, the kitchen drains of bodies.
Youâre deathly aware of the warm presence beside you. You inhale deeply and turn, ready to get this over and done with only to find him shamelessly looking at you.
For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, his expression unreadable as he looks you over before his face splits into a lazy grin. âHey.â
âHi,â you squeak, immediately reprimanding yourself at the awkward sound.
His smile only grows. âI didnât expect to see you here. Are you looking for someone? Or maybe you missed the exit? Itâs down the hall to your right.â
âThatâs rude.â You cross your arms in an attempt to place distance between the two of you and to maintain a confidence you donât feel. âI attend parties.â
Gojo huffs and you feel slightly offended. He straightens and steps closer, close enough that his cologne hits youâsharp, expensive, and entirely too much. âI donât know about that. Iâve never seen you at one of these before.â His head tilts, regarding you. âHow do you even know Sukuna?
For a moment you blank, wondering why he was asking about Sukuna. It hits you then that this party must be his. âAh. I came with Shoko.â
He hums. âThat makes sense. Shoko always did have a habit of collecting strays."
âExcuse me?â
âNot a stray,â he amends lightly at your glare. âMore like her lost puppy.â
"Just because youâve only ever seen me when Iâm with Shoko doesnât mean Iâm always with Shoko.â
âI was talking more about how you were holding onto her shirt in the crowds earlier. She didnât bring a leash for you?"
âDonât project your weird kinks onto me."
âDo you often spend time thinking about what weird kinks I might be into?â Thankfully, Gojo lets the topic go before you really do decide to throw it all away and walk out. âBut alright, letâs say I believe you and youâre just here for the party. Why are you here in the kitchen, then?â
âWhat else do people come to parties for? Iâm here to drink. And stuff.â You trail off, clearing your throat.
âReally?â He eyes your untouched cup. âBecause thatâs just juice. The good stuffâs over here."
He steps into your personal space to reach over you to grab a bottle from the top of the fridge and youâre face to face with the gross words on his top. He retracts his arm, bottle in hand, but doesnât step back. âWant me to pour you one?â
You think back to the last time you let yourself drink under the unwise judgement of Shoko, and how you can only recall glimpses of light and the vague memory of a toilet bowl âItâs fine, Iâve already had a lot to drink.
âRight,â he says, in a tone that makes it clear he doesnât believe you for a second.
You watch as Gojo pours himself another drink, sipping leisurely, pointedly ignoring the way youâre staring.
Gojo isnât exactly a stranger, but itâs an overestimation to call him your friend. In truth, heâs Shoko's friendâwhich means she occasionally drags him back to your shared dorm before disappearing to do whatever it is best friends do. You catch glimpses of him in passing, fleeting and inconsequential, never quite crossing into âintroduce-yourselfâ territory. Why would he? Heâs the kind of guy who turns heads without trying, long-limbed, effortlessly confident, wearing the grin of someone whoâs never been told no in his life.
Where Geto is soft-spoken and warm, guiding you through conversation with patient smiles and gentle ease, Gojo is loud and vibrant and reckless. There's a challenge in his eyes, a knowing smirk on his lips, like the world is perpetually entertaining and heâs always in on the joke.
You, on the other hand, are about as normal as it gets.
When the silence draws into something a little less casual and far more awkward, you clear your throat. âIâm Y/N by the way."
âI know who you are.â
âYou do?â
âShokoâs roommate, right? Weâve seen each other before. Sheâs mentioned you too.â He offers a hand, eyes holding yours like he knows youâll pull away with anything less. âIâm Gojo. Itâs nice to finally meet you.â
You go to echo his words, that of course you knew he was the Gojo Satoru but hesitate, settling instead for shaking his hand. His grip is warm and solid, carrying none of the jitteriness you feel. Hell, maybe you should have accepted a drink after all. What is this, a job interview? Why are you shaking his hand?
When you let go, you become painfully aware of how damp your palms are and curse yourself silently.
Gojo picks up on the silence and moves to lean against the counter, mimicking your earlier pose such that his arms are crossed over his chest, only emphasising his biceps in his sleeveless top. âSo, Y/N. If you didnât come in here for a drink, why are you here?â
His words cause you to still. This was it. Every moment in your dorm, huddled around the whiteboard usually reserved for studying, now littered with far less academic plans, Shoko chiming in her own thinkpieces occasionally. It all accumulated to this moment.
âI was looking for you actually. I wanted to talk to you.â Your voice is barely a whisper and humiliation slowly sinks in when he doesnât answer immediately. Perhaps he didnât hear you considering youâre speaking to your shoes.
When you finally look up, thereâs an unreadable expression on his face. Gojo slowly tracks his eyes up and down your figure. Finally, he straightens, head tilted slightly. âTalk to me? Alone?"
You nod, and his face breaks into a broad grin.
âI wasnât expecting that. Not that I hate it,â he purrs, voice dropping into something smoother as he steps closer and curls a loose lock of your hair around his finger. âWhat did you want to talk about, princess?"
Your mind vaguely registers the gesture, feeling the dampness of your palms once again. âI donât really want to say here."
His fingers still, your hair wrapped around it. âOh?"
You wonder what that look in his eyes meant. âCould we go upstairs?â
Gojo cocks his head, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His brows knit slightly, but his eyes gleam with amusement as he releases your hair, the strand falling back into place in a soft wave. âYou do know Iâm Shokoâs friend, right? And youâre her best friend?â
âWhy does that matter?â
âSeriously? You donât think itâll be awkward?â
Awkward? You blink, trying to make sense of his words. Perhaps Gojo and Shoko had argued recently. Maybe he didnât want her catching sight of the two of you together else it put you in an awkward position. Heâs more considerate than you expected.
âIt doesnât have anything to do with her,â you say carefully. âWhether you or I are friends with Shokoâit doesnât matter to me. I just want to talk to you.â You smile in satisfaction, relaxing a little at his kindness.
Gojo suddenly laughs, brushing a hand through his hair as he throws his head back like youâve said the funniest thing. When he looks back down at you, his eyes are shining. âThatâs what Iâm saying! But every time I joke about it to Shoko, she goes all crazy on me. Looks like we have a lot in common, huh? I guess that makes us compatible.â
You continue to smile, the corners of your lips wavering a little in uncertainty. Youâre not entirely sure what he means by that but considering youâre about to ask him for a favour, you appreciate his good mood.
âWell, alright,â he says at last, taking your hand. âIâd love to hear you out. Lead the way.â
Ignoring the little flip of nerves your stomach does as you hold his hand (perhaps he felt too drunk to climb the stairs alone?), you turn and lead him back into the living room and up the stairs to the quieter rooms of the house. The hand holding serves another purpose, you realise, as you weave through the crowds of people and he would surely have lost you had you not held on tighter, practically dragging him onward.
You feel a tug before your feet can even touch the second floor, like heâs suddenly become immovable. Before you can turn and check on him, you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, his hand slipping from yours to settle at your waist. Youâre pulled to a stop, his breath now brushing against your ear, his hair tickling the side of your face. Youâre certain heâs leaning over you despite being a step lower, and the faint scent of alcohol and sandalwood fills your senses.
âI didnât think youâd be so proactive,â he murmurs. You think he might have inhaled, slow and deliberate, but itâs hard to tell over the base vibrating through the floorboards and the frantic pounding of your heart. âWhat else are you hiding from me, hm?â
He reaches for your hand and turns you slightly so you can watch as he licks your fingers, tasting the sticky residue of your spilt juice. His blue eyes seem to sparkle, mesmerising in a way that makes you freeze. âYou taste sweet.â
Your breath hitches and he must have heard because the hand on your waist tightens and pulls you against him, head leaning down to gently nip at your neck. Your stomach does that little flip again, this time accompanied with a hot flush that short-circuits your brain.Â
âWait!âÂ
He chuckles softly, lips ghosting over a soft spot that makes your knees tremble a little. âDonât be nervous. You have me right where you want me.â
You freeze, heart hammering, fingers twitching. When his hand slips just barely beneath the hem of your top, the words tumble out of you in a rush.
âI like Geto!â
For a heartbeat, everything goes still, his hand, his lips, his breath. Gojo pauses, lips pulling back from your sweaty neck. In fact, his entire body jerks back, both feet returning to the step beneath you, hand leaving your waist to turn you to face him. His fingers find your chin to tilt your face down, eyes dark as they hold yours.
âWhat did you just say?â
You swallow, looking him in the eye. âI like Geto.â
He stares at you wordlessly for a few more moments before he frowns, letting go of you completely and stepping down one more step just for good measure. âWhat the fuck are you doing here with me then?"
You gesture frantically between yourselves, finding the answer quite simple. âTo talk? Thatâs what I said earlier, didnât I? I wasnâtâI wasnât insinuating⌠I wasnât trying toâyou know?â
âYou said you wanted to come with me upstairs.â
âYeah?â
âAlone.â
âRight.â
His frown only deepens at your easy response. âYou know how that sounds, right? To get a guy alone upstairs at a party?â
âIt sounds like I wanted to talk to you privately?â You try again at his disbelieving expression. âThe music was super loud. I didnât think youâd be able to hear me downstairs and I had to ask you something important so I didnât want to risk it.â
He lets out a huff, something short and breathy, lips quirked upwards like he finds something amusing, even as his eyes stay locked on you, unmoving. âYouâre kidding me, right?â
You hold out your hands as if to say, âWhat can you do?â.
Gojo groans, dragging a hand down his face. âFigures this was too good to be true.â His hand drops from his eyes to cover his mouth as he continues to stare at you. âNothing about that situation implied you just wanted to talk. And about Suguru, of all things? Seriously, heâs being a cockblock and he isnât even here.â
âWhat was that?â
âForget it.â He drops his hand. âIâm leaving.â
You quickly hold onto his arm before he can completely turn. âWait!â
Maybe itâs the desperation in your voice, maybe itâs your iron-clad grip on his bicep but he doesnât attempt to pull away. Instead, he looks back and wrinkles his nose at you, a strangely childish gesture.
âIâm not in the mood to just talk. Not anymore.â
âCome on, please? Thereâs no one else I can ask!â
âI donât see how thatâs my problem.â
âIf you could just please, out of the kindness of your heart, hear me out I would seriously appreciate it!â
He doesnât budge.
âI wonât tell anyone I rejected you!â
He frowns. âFirst of all, you didnât reject me because it was a misunderstanding. Second of all, are you really in a position to blackmail me right now?â
âI wonât tell Shoko you were the reason her favourite candle knocked over and singed a bit of her rug.â
His frown only deepens. Blackmail, you think, is surprisingly effective. âHold on, how do you even know that?â
âWhat do you mean? I was literally right there.â
Gojo lets out a deep, long groan. He wriggles out of your hold, sending you a glare. âYou know, you really suck at asking for help.â
âYou donât have to agree to helping me just yet. Just at least give me a chance to explain. Weâre already here, arenât we?â
âYeah, well, I had other plans when we got up here that didn't involve just talking.â
You remind yourself to be patient. Again, you were the one asking for a favour, heâs the only one that can help you with your dilemma, you need him. Donât call him a disgusting freak and walk away.
Clapping your hands together, you muster your best pleading look and send it his way. âPlease, Gojo.â
Youâre not really sure what broke through his defenses. For your own ego, you decide it must be because of your puppy dog eyes because he lets out a sigh and gives a reluctant nod.
âGo to the room to the right of the stairs.â
You bite back the instinct to cheer. Halfway through turning around, you look over your shoulder. âYouâre coming too, right?â
âJust get up there before I change my mind.â
Wondering if souring his mood like this would backfire on you, you quickly hop up the remaining steps and head to the mentioned room just in case he really does change his mind. It would be beneficial to appease him before you ask for a crazy favour, after all. Therefore, you donât even try to eavesdrop as Gojo continues to mumble to himself as he follows behind, worrying that somehow he might hear and turn around.
When you both reach the room, he closes the door and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest and expression flat in a way that feels very un-Gojo. Youâre suddenly struck by the unfairness of it, of how someone with such a careless, teasing exterior can also appear so unreadable when he wants to.
âFive minutes.â
You clear the irrelevant thoughts from your head. âExcuse me?â
âYou have five minutes before Iâm going back down.â
You take a deep breath. This is it, no backing out now. âOkay. I need your help.â
He huffs, unamused. âSo youâve said. But with what exactly? Calculus? Because spoiler, Iâve been drinking.â
âWith Geto.â
You watch in real time as the connection in his brain is made. He straightens off the door slightly. âWait. Suguru? You want help with Suguru? What kind of help? Love help? You want love help with Suguru?â
Every word from his mouth is like a bullet to your dignity. Through gritted teeth, you hiss, âYes. Can you be any louder?â
âI can try,â He says with a hint of humour. The smirk returns to his face and a feeling of foreboding looms over you. âThis is what you wanted to get me alone to say?â
âLook, I needed someone whoâs close with him and youâreââ
âClose? Please, Iâm his best friend. Iâm practically his wife.â
âOh. So that makes us competition?â
He wrinkles his nose and looks you up and down. âYou want me to help you get him.â
You nod.
âYou want to confess to him.â
âObviously.â
âDate him?â
âThatâs the goal."
âSleep with him?â
You give him a look so incredulous that he laughs, short and amused. âIf you want advice just hit up reddit. If you want him to like you back then an etsy witch has you covered for five dollars. I donât see why you have to bother me.â
âBecause,â You say slowly. âHeâs surrounded by people. He doesnât even know me. I need all of that, the advice, the reciprocation, and I need someone who can get me close enough to him where he can notice me. And I feel like getting an etsy witch to manipulate his dreams to include me would cost more than five dollars. And Iâm broke. And Iâm kind of bad with guys.â
âSo, what? You want me to introduce you to him?â
âSure. And maybe tell me what he likes?"
Gojo looks you up and down again. He leans back against the door but this time, thereâs something smug and arrogant about his posture, eyes lazy as he takes up as much space as he can. âYouâre not even his type.â
âThatâs fine, Iâm flexible.â
âThatâs something you say at a job interview, not when youâre trying to get a boyfriend.â
âJust shows that I have an adaptable personality.â
âHe just came out of a 2 year relationship,â He shoots back.
âI accept and embrace his past.â
âHe has a habit of leaving his jackets on the arm rest of couches.â
âI have hands, I can put them away.â
âWhereâs your self-respect?â
âWith him. Iâll get it back after I get with him.â
Gojo huffs. âHe doesnât even know you.â
âThatâs why Iâm asking you for help.â
âYou know, I think I liked you better when you were just a shy little thing stumbling over your words.â
Again, you can only shrug.
When he only frowns, you decide to use your hidden ace. Before he can open his mouth and surely reject you, you beat him to it, voice overlapping his.
âIâll tutor you!â
His eyes narrow and when he doesnât say anything else, you push on.
âI know youâre aiming for that sports scholarship to study abroad next year.â
âHow do you even know about that?â He catches on quick with a groan. âShoko.â
You nod. âAnd I know that youâre looking for someone to tutor you because you need to get good grades to get accepted. If you help me with this, I promise I can definitely bring your grades up. We both benefit!â
Gojo stares at you like youâve just grown a second head and you think youâve lost him when his lips twitch. Then, almost traitorously, one corner lifts higher.
âYou,â he says slowly, pointing at you like heâs identifying a rare species, âAre trying to bribe me. Youâre trying to bribe me because you canât get game by yourself.â
âIt's not a bribe,â you say stiffly. âI'm just saying thereâs something in it for the both of us.â
âItâs a bribe,â he repeats, delighted now. âHoly shit, Shoko's roommate is bribing me. How desperate can you get?â
âIâm offering to give you academic support!â
âWith strings attached.â
âYes,â you sigh. "That's usually how deals work.â
He grins, wide and boyish and every bit infuriating as youâve ever known him. âYou think I can't get a tutor without helping you bag my best friend?â
âWell, you havenât yet.â
âThat's because I don't need one.â
âRight. So I should just forget all the times Shoko has ranted to me about how you keep asking her for help?â
âYou know, this conversation has really enlightened me on who my real friends are.â His gaze slides back to you, assessing. âAnd youâre confident you can help me?â
You straighten your shoulders and give a solemn nod. âIâve fixed worse than you.â
He studies you, eyes tracking your features down to your shoes and you fight the urge to squirm self consciously. He seems to be recalibrating you, seeing you not as Shokoâs tagalong but as an actual person making a very earnest, albeit very ridiculous, request.
Finally, he sighs, long and dramatic.
âWell, at least you have one thing going for you. Suguru eats this kind of stuff up, hardworking, stubborn, a little patheticââ
âHey.â
ââin a cute pet way,â he amends smoothly. âRelax.â
You glare at him anyway but the rational part of your brain reminds you that you need this. He grins back, entirely unrepentant.
âFine,â he continues, raising a finger, âIf I do this, weâre doing it my way. That means we need rules.â
You fight the urge to jump up and down in joy. âI was going to suggest that anyway! How about this, weââ
âRule one,â he says, face settling into something serious. âYou canât fall in love with me.â
Unable to help yourself, you burst out laughing. âTrust me, thatâs not going to be an issue. You're definitely not my type.â
At your laugh he smiles though it doesnât reach his eyes. âRule two, no complaining. Keep that mouth in check, sweets.â
You giggle. âWhat's wrong, fragile ego?â
He raises an eyebrow and you mumble irritated curses under your breath. âSorry.â
âRule three, if Suguru ends up falling head over heels for you, you owe me big.â
âHow big?â
His eyes flick down to your mouth again, then back up, smirk slow and dangerous. âIâll decide later.â
You catch the movement and swallow, feeling none of the humour from earlier. âOkay, deal. Then, rule four, you take your studying seriously. I don't tutor people who donât care.â
âI think between the two of us, I want to succeed the most so thatâs a given. Any more rules, sweets?â
When you shake your head, he nods. âThen, weâll start tomorrow.â
âNot today? I mean heâs literally right here,â You quickly clarify. âNot a complaint, just a question!â
âI came here to get drunk and have a good time. Iâm going to need at least three drinks to get me back there so be a good girl and wait. Iâll text you tomorrow if you really canât be patient. Unless, you want to back out already?â
You straighten your shoulders, trying to match his confidence. âIâm not backing out! I just want to make sure youâre not going to ditch me. This isnât really a normal request.â
âOh, so you know?â
You roll your eyes at him but have the decency to at least look bashful.
âTomorrow,â he repeats then jerks his chin toward the door. âGo on, sweets. Before I sober up and regain some self-respect.â
âDonât call me that.â
âA complaint?â
You bite your lip. âA suggestion.â
âHereâs a real suggestion,â he starts, turning around to open the door. Standing in the doorframe, he gives you one last look. âNext time you ask a guy to go upstairs with you at a party, maybe start with the part about not wanting to make out.â
Your face gets hot instantly, mouth opening to splutter, âI didnât mean anything by it!â
But he doesnât stay to hear the end of it, rejoining the masses downstairs without another word. He lifts his hand once as a goodbye and then heâs gone, leaving you alone in the room, half mortified, half exhilarated. Unwilling to give him any sense of victory with his last words, you head back downstairs and find Shoko to tell her the results of the first step of your plan.
Itâs a struggle pushing through the thick waves of people but you finally find your roommate off to the side, musing herself in a conversation with someone you donât recognise.
Instinctively, your eyes search for Geto if only to recall what youâre doing this for. Standing beside him, arm swung over his shoulder is Gojo, already sipping from a cup and laughing into the conversation with a natural ease that reminds you of the gap between who you were and who he is. As if sensing your gaze, he looks over and you flinch as if burnt. Something stirs in your gut and you wonder if your little plan to get with Geto has taken a slightly unpredictable turn.
âYou okay?â Shoko asks, noticing your fluster.
You nod, looking away quickly. âOf course. All going to plan, you know?â
âThen I guess youâre up to step two.â
âRight,â Your eyes drift back to Gojo and find him looking at you over the rim of his cup. The feeling in your stomach lurches. âStep two.âÂ
Step two begins with Gojo texting you at the ass crack of dawn. You blink the sleep from your eyes, squinting at the bright light of your screen in mild disbelief and annoyance as he tells you to pull up to his 9am lecture. Despite the lingering feeling that youâve bitten off more than you can chew, you understand that this is necessary.
You know for a fact that you have no classes today and therefore no reason to make the trek to university. a whole day,just gone and tasked with the impossible task of putting up with that infuriating player.
No, you reprimand yourself as you text back your agreement. No complaining. Do it for him, do it for Geto. With those words repeating in your head like a mantra, you pull yourself together and out of bed to get to campus.
It would be helpful, after all, to see where his studies were at if you were going to take this tutoring business seriously.
You get a coffee at the station to combat your sleepiness and the chill of a winter morning before hesitating and getting another. With two coffees, one in each hand, you wait outside his lecture room until the doors swing open.
Spotting him wouldnât be too hard, you muse, considering Gojo is impossible to miss.
And then, you see him.
His unmistakable frame, hair a messy white halo catching the late morning sun, strides into view. He's mid conversation as he steps out, animated, half-grinning, and you find yourself understanding why so many girls lose their minds over him.
âGojo!â You call out, voice slightly drowned out by the chatter all around.
Youâre about to give him a piece of your mind, him having been the reason why you kept to your phone all of last night like a wife anticipating the return of her war husband, when you freeze. Because when Gojo turns, your mind barely registering the amused look he gives you, the person he was talking to comes into view.
Because of course, where thereâs Gojo there is Geto, the yin to his yang.
You werenât ready for both of them.
Noticing your sudden stiffness, Gojo looks beside him and scoffs. Unimpressed, he starts walking over. You panic, attempting to smooth out your clothes and fix up your appearance though your hands are full of coffee so you end up doing an awkward wiggle.
âLook at you,â Gojo starts when heâs close enough. âLoitering outside my class like a fan. Maybe this is more urgent than I thought, not because you like Suguru but because you really need your self-respect back.â
You open your mouth to respond, to clarify, to deny, to just say something, but Geto catches up beside him and suddenly every possible word tangles up in your throat.
âOh. Hey,â Geto says, recognition flickering across his face. âYouâre Y/N, right?â
You blink, knees feeling weak and mind in shambles that he even knew your name let alone match it to your face. âUh, yeah! Thatâs me!â
He smiles, soft and easy, all the charm youâve seen him use on others now directed to you. âI thought so. Youâre in one of Shokoâs tutorials, no? I think I remember her mentioning you.â
âIâm her roommate, actually.â You try for a smile and pray it doesnât give off the extent of your adoration towards him.
âRight, that would be it. Iâm Geto.â
You nod mutely, wishing your brain would reboot to say something, anything that doesnât make you sound like youâve never spoken to a human before. Geto, he says, like you didnât already know his name, like he wasnât one of the most known people on campus. Still, the fact that he so humbly introduced himself only proves his humility and your heart gives a quiver.
This moment was everything youâve ever fantasied. His eyes on you, giving you that pretty smile youâve only seen directed at others. You could have stood there and basked in his attention until the end of time if Gojo didnât suddenly clap Getoâs shoulder and butt in.
âGreat, so glad youâre both acquainted,â he says, ignoring your glare and throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side. âBut as much as Iâd love to keep standing here and soak in this riveting small talk, I think my very dedicated super fan here needs me for something.â
You shoot him a look. âI am not your super fan.â
âNo? And is that not my coffee?â
You look down at your hands as if only remembering now what you were holding. Biting back a remark, you thrust out a coffee. âIt is.â
He grins, taking it and letting his fingers brush against yours. âThought so.â
Geto looks between the two of you. âOh, I see how it is."
Your eyes fling back to him at the same time Gojo exclaims, âWhat?â
âWoah, did I touch a nerve there or something?â Getoâs smile quickly turns smug. He returns Gojoâs earlier gesture and thumps him hard on the back twice. âI get it. Iâll get out of your hair then. Be gentle with him, Y/N. Heâs actually a pretty sensitive guy.â
It takes you a while to process his words so Gojo reacts first.
âDude, Iâm telling you itâs not like that.â
âSure,â Geto says in a tone that very much suggests he isnât convinced at all. âGuess Iâll see you around, yeah? Later, Satoru.â
You only realise seconds after he leaves that you hadnât said goodbye. In fact, after Gojoâs interruption, you hadnât managed to say anything more to Geto.
âHuh,â Gojo muses, breaking the silence. âYou get like that around him?â
You groan and find the lump in your throat gone. âI stood there like an idiot!â
âYou did.â
âHe probably thinks Iâm a freak!â
âProbably.â
âAnd you!â You look up to glare at him. âYou didnât have to make it sound so weird!â
âSo now itâs suddenly my fault?â
âYou caught me off guard by calling me your super fan!â
âRight, like that was the weirdest part of the conversation,â he shoots back, lips curled in dry amusement. âThat, and not the super sour face you were making at him. Like a grimace.â He mimics your expression and you properly grimace this time, hoping against all odds that that was not the face you had been making at the person you were actually a super fan for.
Deciding you will only lose if you continue to defend yourself, you choose to change the subject. âYou should have told me heâd be here.â
âYou never asked. Besides, is it my fault if you didnât prepare for that to happen?â
You sulkingly mumble a yes and he wags his finger at you, tutting disapprovingly.
âNo complaining, remember? Come on, letâs go. We have things to talk about.â
You sigh though relent to fall into step beside him, fingers curling around your own coffee as the crowd thins around you. Now that Geto is gone, the world feels marginally more comfortable, less bright, less sharp, but also less mortifying.
You remember your stuttering self a few minutes ago.
Still a little mortifying but now bearable.
Gojo takes a long sip of his coffee, then glances sideways at you over the rim. âFor future reference, I don't like coffee.â
You dig your elbow into his side and he winces but doesnât remove his arm around your shoulder.
âWhere are we going? I was thinking we could go to the library and look over your courses. That way I can pinpoint your weakness and where to target first. We only have a few months into graduation so weâre in a bit of a time crunch but I'm positive I can raise your grades from whatever they may be to⌠what?â
You trail off when you find Gojo looking down at you in disbelief. He shrugs when your eyes meet and shrugs, though the gesture is a little awkward with his arm over your shoulders.
âI just didnât think you were serious about the whole tutoring thing.â
âI keep to my promises, Gojo,â you pause. âAnd I hope you will too.â
He reaches over with his free hand to ruffle your hair, ignoring your squeak. âDesperation isnât a good look on you, sweets. Relax, relax, I'll get you two together. Trust me.â
You grumble but donât voice your suspicions, instead letting him drag you in a certain direction. You perk up when you donât immediately recognise your surroundings.
âWhere are we going?â
âI get it, you want to check me out. I'm just taking us somewhere where that can happen.â
âYour studies, not you,â you clarify.
âYeah, and my studies are mine so youâre checking me out.â
You grimace and he chuckles, turning you around a corner. âThe library is too quiet so weâre going back to my place.â
You stop abruptly.
âYour place?â
âYeah.â
âYour place?â
Gojo cocks his head as if listening to something in the distance. âDid you just hear that echo too?â
âForgetting the fact that we should clearly just go to the library or somewhere on campus at least, I thought you lived in Sig Kap?â
âRight you are. Wow, I'm really starting to see why youâre the perfect choice as a tutor.â
âBut you just said weâre going to your place.â
âNothing gets past you.â
âYour place as in the Sig Kap house.â
âLook at you go.â
You stare at his side profile, waiting for a punchline that wonât come.
âGojo.â
âYeah?â
âI am not going to your frat house.â
âWhat happened to not complaining? That was the first rule and youâre already breaking it, sweets. I'm starting to dread this whole arrangement,â he continues to tease, looking ever so peaceful.
âI'm sorry, I don't know what you think I'm about but I wouldn't willingly walk into a den full of men named things like Chad. Do you even have furniture?â
âI only had a cot for the majority of first year but now I've upgraded to a mattress on the floor.â
âGreat. Let's end this here.â
Gojo hooks his finger in your belt hoop before you can walk away. âFirst of all, we donât have a Chad. We do have a Kyle though.â
âYou're not doing yourself any favours.â
âSecond,â he continues on, pulling you back towards him with his finger. âItâs ten in the morning. Half of them are in class and the other half are probably legally dead.â
You stand your ground. âLibrary.â
âSig Kap.â
âLibrary.â
âSig Kap.â
âGojo.â
He leans in suddenly, close enough that you can see the faint crease at the corner of his eyes from squinting in the sun.
âYou want Suguru, right?â
Your breath catches and despite yourself, you hear him out. âSo? How is that relevant?â
âBecause,â he says mildly like heâs talking to a little kid. âSig Kap is where Suguru hangs out. He's my best friend, you know heâs my best friend thatâs why you came to me. Why wouldnât he be over at mine all the time? If you canât handle coming over now how are you ever going to fuck him?â
âI am notââ you choke, voice pitching before forcefully lowering your voice when you notice people looking at you. âThat is notâ I haven't evenââ
Gojo hums, watching you with a victorious grin. âSo you donât want to sleep with him?â
You make a startled noise and start walking in a random direction, eager to leave him behind. Life, however, is full of disappointments considering he follows, his arm draping over your shoulder once more.
âSo where are we going?â
You give in. âSig Kap.â
âWrong way, sweets.â
You groan but follow as he steers you in the opposite direction.
Gojo chatters in your ear the entire walk to where the frat houses are situated on campus, about how his least favourite professor is out to get him, about someone in his frat who set off the fire alarm this morning, about the latest philosophical debate holding the frat hostage: whether cereal is a soup or not. It's a steady stream of nonsense, ridiculous but unbroken because at least he wasnât talking to you so much as at you.
At some point, you stop responding entirely.
Somehow, his mere presence is enough to change your opinion and you actually feel relief when you finally see the house before you. Sig Kap stands broad and sunlit, paint only mildly chipped, windows open to let in the winter air. There's a couple bikes leaning against the porch railing and thereâs an abandoned hoodie on the outdoor chairs.
âOh thank god,â you mumble under your breath when he finally stops talking.
He lets you go to jog up the steps, opening the door to what youâre positive is about to be an overstimulating nightmare.
Warm air hits you first, carrying the scene of coffee and something oily. Sunlight stretches across worn hardboard floors until Gojo closes the door behind you and the hallway dims. A TV murmurs somewhere deeper into the house and thereâs a loud conversation happening upstairs.
âYou said everyone would be either in class or dead!â you hiss.
âIt was an exaggeration,â he says lightly. "Don't worry, everyoneâs harmless. But if youâre worried, you can just stick close to me.â
You ignore his cocky grin and shove him to get him walking. Unfortunately, getting to the stairs meant walking past the living room and you know things wonât be as harmless as he says when a voice calls out.
âYo!â
Gojo pauses and steps back to poke his head into the living room. âMorning.â
You awkwardly step back to let him, pushing you into view too.
Two heads snap toward you at once. One of them is sprawled across the couch, blanket half-tangled around his legs and a bowl of popcorn balances on his stomach. The other is slouched in an armchair, controller in hand, eyes bloodshot and face pale as if he was still hungover. Considering the state of the party last night, you donât doubt that he might be. Speaking of the party, you recognise the one on the left as Hikari.
âYouâre bringing a girl back in broad daylight?â The controller guy says, no tact whatsoever.
Hikari snaps his fingers in recognition. âHey, youâre the girl at the party.â
âDamn, back for more?â
Hikari shoves controller guyâs head down at the crude comment.
âShe's here to save my GPA,â Gojo explains. âSo keep it down, yeah?â
âThat's what we should be saying to you,â controller guy smirks.
Unfortunately, Gojo smirks back. âYou know they canât help it. I'm just too good.â
He guides you back towards the stairs as the boys in the living room chuckle, and when you finally think of something to say youâre already standing in the middle of his room. By then, thereâs another something to take up your mind and computing power.
Despite the relatively large floor plan, Gojo has decided to use none of it. True to his words, thereâs a mattress lying on the floor against one wall, blanket a mess and a single pillow sitting flat at the top. A stack of old textbooks make up a bedside table where thereâs a cute small lamp. On the other side sits a couch and a giant flat screen in front of it at a distance that would make optometrists frown.
Maybe thatâs why Gojo is sometimes seen wearing sunglasses indoors. Maybe theyâre prescription.
âThis is what you bring girls back to?â
Gojo drops his bag on the floor and flops down onto the couch, patting the cushion beside him. âCome sit.â
You eye the seat in disdain.
âWhat's with the look?â
âIs that even sanitary?â
He snorts. âWorried youâll get cooties or something? Relax, I rarely bring anyone back. Usually I go to the girlsâ place for that kind of stuff. Fucking on a mattress is pretty harsh on the back, you know. Youâre the first girl I've brought back in a while. Lucky you, right?â
You grimace but sit down gingerly. âCan you tell me what courses youâre doing?â
âWhat's the rush? Let's get to know each other better,â he says but he still reaches over to grab his laptop from his bag, opening it on his lap.
You can picture it so clearly, Gojo coming back from a long day of (skipping) classes to do his assignments and homework like this, slumped over his laptop on this surprisingly comfortable couch. The bare mattress on the floor might be a big contributing factor to his back pain, but you have no doubts that this routine wasnât doing him any favours. âHere,â he places his laptop on your knees and leans back, pulling out his phone from his pocket. âYou look.â
Considering his complete disregard of safety is not your issue, you donât protest and quickly type in the college website. As if sensing this is not the right time, a prompt pops up to log in again.
âPassword?â you ask, tilting the screen to him.
He barely looks up from his phone, one arm behind his head, the other typing away. âSixeyes69 question mark exclamation mark.â
You pause and type it in. It goes through.
âWhat's the number?â He asks, disinterested.
You look on the screen. â67.â
He chuckles. âNice.â
âAre you seriously okay with telling me your password like that?â
He shrugs, screenshotting the multi authenticator screen before hitting enter. The website in front of you loads and opens to his details.
âTtâs not like thereâs anything you can do with that. Are you planning to sneak in and do my assignments for me?â
Finding no fault in his words, you accept it and click through the tabs. Your brows quickly knit together as you read the contents.
âGojo.â
âMhm?â
âYouâre missing three assignments in this class, you have a midterm for another in two weeks and youâre barely passing first year statistics.â
Gojo looks up at the ceiling in deep concentration before looking down with a smile. âYeah, that sounds about right, why?â
âThis is insane! I'm not a miracle worker!â
âBetter find a lamp that grants wishes soon because your love life is on the line,â he points out. âThat was the deal, you find a way to get me into that scholarship and I get you and my best friend together. It's not my fault you were weirdly confident and didnât check to see where I was at before proposing that.â
Flabberghasted, you can only open and close your mouth like a fish. âLook, the midterm in two weeks, I can probably help with. The three assignments? You failing statistics?â
âPretty sure I passed that last quiz. Maybe check again?â
â51 is just barely passing which is basically a fail.â
âOh no, it seems like you canât do this after all. Looks like the deal is over. Hey, by the way, since youâre already here, why don't weââ Gojo sits up and leans in, one hand on your thigh above his laptop.
âI demand another favour.â
He freezes. âYou canât just do that.â
âI can,â you square your shoulders and meet his eyes. âI did this statistics class during my first year so I still have my notes. I can easily alter them and give them to you and if you have any questions, we can meet up and I'll go through the questions with you. There's no way you can submit two of the three missed assessments as late but I can help you write the one that was due last week. There will be a mark reduction but I'll make sure itâs as good as can be. And, like I said, studying for the midterm is possible in two weeks.â
Gojo stares at you as if seeing you for the first time. When he finally moves, itâs only to remove his hand from your knee and slump back into his leather couch. âYouâre insane.â
You wonder if heâs sulking.
âBut,â you continue on. âIf I help you with this then I can add to my condition. Besides, I made it too vague earlier and youâve helped me see that. So thank you.â
He rolls his eyes. âJust tell me.â
You bite your lip. âGo on a practice date with me.â
He blinks at you, giving you that same incredulous look before bursting into a fit of laughter that does wonders for your ego.
âHey.â
He keeps laughing, one hand resting on his chest.
âHey!â You hit his arm and he finally cracks an eye open to look at you.
âYouâre kidding,â he chuckles, struggling to catch his breath. âGojo Satoru doesnât do dates.â
âDon't refer to yourself in third person.â You smack his bicep one more time for good measure and because heâs weirdly solid under your touch. âIt wonât actually be a date. I just need to know how dates work. I can't just go from zero to not-zero without practice!â
His laughter trails off though the smile remains on his face. He tilts his head to the side. âYouâre at zero?â
You freeze, feeling like youâve walked into a trap.
âDefine zero.â
âHave you kissed anyone?â
You look away. âDefine kissed.â
He laughs again, though mercifully shorter. âThat's crazy. Next thing you know, youâre going to ask me to teach you how toââ
âPlease!â you say quickly. âIt won't be anything serious. I just need to know the mechanics, you know, how dates actually work. What youâre supposed to say, how you sit, when you pay, whether eye contact should be continuous or intermittentââ
âJesus,â he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. âYouâre actually a lost cause.â
âWell I've never done one before!â You clamp your mouth shut after, mortified at how loud you just got.
Gojo watches you for a long moment, the amusement still there though dimmed now by something closer to curiousity. Maybe even concern if you squint.
Silence stretches between you, warm sunlight pooling across the floor, distant house noise muffled beyond the door. He looks down at his laptop on your lap then back up to your face.
â...okay.â
Your heart stumbles and you inhale sharply. âOkay?â
âIâll do it.â
âReally?â Relief overwhelms your system and your shoulders relax.
âGojo Satoru doesnât go back on his promises.â He straightens and places a hand over his heart, a mock solemn expression on his face. Before you can poke fun of his use of third person again, he continues. âBesides, I need to figure out where you stand. Let's go on a date tomorrow.â
âEager much?â
He shrugs. âRip the bandaid off. Besides, I have no other time this week, I have practice all of this week for the upcoming game.â
Though you were ready to disagree, you find yourself nodding. âOkay, tomorrow.â
âIt's a date,â he says sweetly before clapping his hands together once loudly. âSo, does that mean I'm off the hook for today? Steam is having this massive sale and I have money to spend.â
You snort. âWhat makes you think youâre free to go?â
âYou got what you wanted,â he points out reasonably. âPractice date secured so mission accomplished, right? Seems like a natural stopping point and the Steam store is calling me.â
He reaches lazily toward the laptop. You smack his hand away without hesitation.
âWell hang up because youâre failing statistics and the submission box for that technical report is waiting for you. I'm afraid youâre going to have to reschedule.â
âYou're kidding. I dragged you here and gave you nothing to prepare with, thereâs no way you'll have anything to tutor me with.â
You stretch out your arms, fingers interlaced, and listen to the satisfying pop of your joints. âWatch me.â
Night has long since settled by the time you return to your dorm. Despite his perennial sulking throughout the entire tutoring session, lips jutted out when he isnât whining, eyes drifting from the screen when youâre not giving him your full attention, he still offers to walk you back to the opposite side of the campus where the dorm houses are. Guiding him through the writing assignment was somewhat akin to extracting teeth from a little kid, but heâs surprisingly quiet when youâre talking and only chooses to complain when youâve stopped.
And by the end of it, youâre proud to announce that he has 500 words on a once empty doc that was almost ready for submission.
Hey, you did mention before that you canât create miracles.
Still, thereâs something bright in his eyes when he reads through his own work, mumbling the words under his breath. So then, when you had reached down to pick up your tote bag and call it a day, heâs on his feet almost instantly, laptop snapping shut as he follows.âIâll walk you,â he says, like itâs not even a suggestion.
The campus at night feels different, all those late nights in the library had taught you that. Itâs quieter, softened at the edges and maybe it's placebo, maybe it isnât, but the air feels fresher and time seems to slow. Streetlamps cast warm pools of light along the pathways, the winter air crisp enough to bite at your cheeks. Your breath fogs slightly as you walk, footsteps echoing in companionable rhythm.
For once, Gojo isnât talking.
He makes the occasional comment, something about how dead campus feels after dark, how he hates early morning practices, how someone keeps taking his chocolate milk from the fridge, but for some reason you donât find it so tolerable. Maybe itâs the way heâs saying it, slower and calm, nothing like before.
You steal a glance at him.
His hands are shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders relaxed, expression softer than youâre used to seeing. Without the performative grin and constant chatter he looks less like the campus celebrity Everyone knows and more like heâs just some guy. Albeit, very attractive but you digress.Â
âYou didnât have to walk me,â you say into the silence that he hadnât immediately rushed to fill after his last anecdote.
âI know.â
âThen why are you?â
He shrugs. âJust felt weird not to. Besides, itâs late out and your dorm is half a century away. I need you alive to fix my grades, remember?â
You give him a faint chuckle and look forward again.
A few more steps pass in silence, broken only by the shuffle of feet.
âHey,â he says suddenly.
You look up, watching the light scatter over his side profile.
âThanks.â
âFor what?â
âFor today.â He kicks at a pebble on the path, watching as it skitters ahead. âFor not giving up on me after the first five minutes.â
You huff softly. âI said I'd help. And Y/N never goes back on her promises.â
He looks over at you and you both share a smile before his expression turns thoughtful. âYeah, but people say stuff all the time.â
You study him. âDo they?â
He hums and doesnât elaborate.
The dorm building comes into view ahead, lights glowing warmly through the windows. There's still a couple students drifting in and out, bundled in hoodies and coats and wearing slides, soft laughter spilling into the night.
You slow, suddenly aware that the walk is almost over. You turn to him so you can look at each other.
âYou know, youâre not as hopeless as you think,â you say quietly. âI think youâve just never pushed yourself to seriously try.â
He snorts. âThanks, real inspirational.â
âIâm serious,â you protest but the corners of your lips quirk up.
He looks at you then, properly looks, eyes searching your face with a small frown. When he canât find whatever heâs looking for, his brows relax.
âYou really think I can pass?â
âYes.â
Something in his shoulders loosens, tension easing away.
âOkay,â he breathes out. âThen, my grades are in your hands, teacher.â
You make a face. âI think I prefer sweets.â
He laughs and you turn to walk up to the entrance. The automatic doors remain stubbornly closed until you step into the sensorâs range, humming softly as they slide open. Warm air spills out, smelling faintly of old carpet and air freshener.
For some reason your feet slow.
âHey, Y/N.â
You turn, looking at him as he stands just outside the warm lobby light, hands in his pocket, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold.
âYeah?â
He hesitates.
âSee you tomorrow."
You bite your lip and nod, repeating his words softly. Then, before you can do something stupid, you turn and walk into the building. The doors close with a soft thud, sealing you inside.
Through the glass, you watch him turn and head down the path, white hair catching the glow of the streetlights. And of course, he doesnât look back.
Your reflection stares back at you instead, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes a little too bright, heart still beating faster than it should.
Tomorrow, apparently, youâre going on a date, practice or not.
For some reason, Geto pops up in your mind and you tighten your hold on your tote bag, making your way up the stairs. The soft curve of his smile earlier this morning, the way he had said your name like it belonged in his mouth, or maybe that was just wistful thinking. But the warmth in his eyes that had nearly short-circuited your brain was most definitely real and you cling to the image.
Right, this is for him.
Your phone buzzes a little after you settle into bed that night, making you jolt. you roll onto your side and reach for your phone, pulling it free from your charger as you read through your notifications.
gojo: i made it back safe in case you were wondering ><
You get comfortable, tucking your doona under your chin as you type back, your phone the only light source in your dark room.
you: trust i wasnât worried but thanks ig
gojo: who said anything about being worried?
also donât flake on me tomorrow
iâm taking this mentorship very seriously so u better asw you: i wonât flake ik iâm already asking sm of u
gojo: oh u know do u?
so ure going to pay for our date tmrw?
you: itâs not a date
gojo: sure it isnât
you: itâs just practice
gojo: i didnât say it wasnât
but if you admitted it was a real date iâd pay yk
you: please
like iâd actually want you to pay for my coffee
not a date, not real, donât need u to pay for my drinks
gojo: ure a hard girl to please
you: if its from someone like you, its gonna be harder than just hard
try impossible
gojo: harder than hard?
you: ?
gojo: something feels wrong about that sentence for some reason
anyway
is the campus close for you or should we meet up in the city
you: the campus works for me
gojo: ure not just saying that to avoid the date allegations are you
you: no way
gojo: sure sweets i believe u
donât wear anything boring
first impressions matter yk
you: oh my god stop pushing the date allegations
its just practice !!!!
gojo: okay and you can practice dressing up for me
for suguru
like for practice
you: ?
i know what u meant
but sure
as long as u do too theres no way im embarrassing myself by showing up overdressed if u show up in sweats and a hoodie
gojo: wouldnât dream of it
see u saturday sweets
You stare at the nickname longer than you should.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before moving.
you: goodnight gojo
The reply bubble appears then disappears before appearing again. Nothing comes of it as it disappears one more time and stays gone.
You swipe off the app and place your phone back on your bedside table, ignoring the pleasant buzz running through you.Â
You show up early like a super fan.
Youâve been sitting at the little corner table situated at the back of your favourite campus cafe for the past ten minutes now, stirring your drink just to look busy. The cafe hums around you with soft chatter, clinking spoons against teacups and ceramic against ceramic, a mellow playlist faintly playing in the background, but your nerves drown most of it out.
Youâve already gone through three mental checklists as you sit there, waiting. Your fingers curl around your empty cup, feeling the beads of water drip down your fingers and you really hope you wonât need to make an awkward break for the bathroom anytime soon considering he should be here about now.
You tell yourself youâre not nervous but you catch yourself glancing at the door every other second, heart jumping each time it swings open.
The bell chimes again and you look up with a start, eyes immediately locking onto Gojo as he saunters in, lifting his sunglasses so they rest on his head. Heâs dressed casually, a white and blue jersey over a pair of blue baggy jeans, but his good looks mold the outfit into something appropriate for a date.
Gojo spots you at his first look around and grins, sliding into the seat across.
âMorning,â he greets, a wide smile on his face. His eyes flicker down once at your empty cup. âDid you wait long?â
âNo, not at all!â You remember who youâre talking to and relax a little. âActually, I got here fifteen minutes early. I guess I got a little anxious.â
âWell, you donât need to be. You look nice,â he says, tone light. His eyes look you over once to make his words comprehensible and then one more time purely for the love of the game. âTrying to impress me?â
You scoff, trying to recover. âYou told me to dress nice.â
âCâmon, sweets. Play along. Weâre on a date, you know. Your next lines should be something like,â he suddenly tucks his elbow in, body curving to the side slightly, hand half closed and held delicately over his lips and chin. His eyelashes flutter over his cheek as he looks down and to the side, a faux shyness that makes you want to laugh. ââThank you, you look good tooâ.â
You let yourself laugh, shoulders relaxing. âWhat the fuck?â
âYou give it a try. It always works in anime.â
âNo way in hell,â you continue, laughing fading into occasional giggles as his gesture replays in your mind. âBesides, this is a practice date. I'll save that technique for the real deal, thank you very much.â
âAnd for practice, weâre going to pretend this is a real date.â He leans back into his seat, legs stretching out and bracketing yours under the table. His feet bump against yours lightly. âLet's give it another try. Did I make you wait long?â
You stir the straw inside your drink, pretending to be nonchalant, though your fingers twitch slightly against the glass. âNot long⌠I guess.â You try a mysterious act, hearing that guys like a woman with secrets. At least, thatâs what Shoko told you though a small part of you wonders if you should be taking âhow to seduce a guy 101â from a lesbian.
ââI guessâ?â he echoes, tilting his head. âThatâs the best you can do? Youâre supposed to be charming me, remember? At least try to make it look like I'm not coercing you here.â
âI donât care if I charm you or not,â you say quickly, cheeks warming. âIâm here to learn and youâre here to teach me.â
He laughs, a low, easy sound that makes your chest tighten. âYou know, I'm not exactly made of time. Do you know how many girls and guys would kill to be in your position right now?â
You resist the urge to roll your eyes though donât stop yourself from making your voice dry. âOh sure, letâs spend this entire date talking about all the competition I have.â
âWe would need at least four more dates to cover it all.â
âI didnât know getting into a relationship with you would be such an investment.â You snort. âIf all five of our dates are just going to be you listing my competition, I'd rather stand you up now and save myself the time. And the money.â
âI did offer to pay for your drinks.â He grins at the back and forth, the sides of his shoes bumping into your ankles lightly. âThatâs it, youâre getting into it.â
âFor practice.â
âSure, sweets. Practice. Speaking of,â he says, leaning forward just enough that the sunlight catches his hair. âYou should call me Satoru. Weâre on a date, remember? I canât tell if youâre on a date with me or my dad if you call me Gojo.â
You grimace. âCalling you by your first name makes it too real.â
âIt is real. Thatâs what you should tell yourself to get into this.â He juts out his lower lip, drawing his eyebrows inward. âCome on, sweets, let me hear you say my name.â
âWhen you say it like that, it makes me want to throw a drink in your face.â
âJust once, Y/N.â
You huff and roll your eyes. âSatoru.â
âOh my god, a girl called me by my first name!â he squeals.
You almost stand to get out of here if it means preventing people from associating you with him. He grabs your hand and drags you back down into your seat before you can properly escape, much to your dismay. âRelax, Iâm just playing.â
âAre you here to mess around or help me?â
âWell, you need to tell me so I can help you. What do you even know about him?â
âAbout Geto?â
âYeah, unless thereâs someone else you want to know more about?â He grins, easy and confident.
You ignore his comment. âWell, I know he⌠likes books. music. He's kind⌠thoughtful. Plays the guitar. Ah, specifically electric."
âAre you listing off whatâs on his dating profile right now?â
âShut up,â you snap, but it comes out weaker than intended.
âHe isnât actively on any dating app right now, just for your information.â
âAnd how would you know this? What are you doing on there?â
âIâm not on hinge, unfortunate for the female population, I know. We just tell each other everything,â he says, leaning back, one elbow resting on the armrest of his chair as he studies you from across the table. âIâm helping you, you know? First rule, donât just parrot his interests. Though maybe I don't have to worry about that since youâre clearly struggling to even remember them.â
âI wasnât going to parrot him.â
âI know you were,â he interrupts, wagging a finger. âLast time I checked, liking exactly what he likes does not make you compatible. It makes you predictable. And desperate.â
âOkay, harsh.â
âIt's all tough love, sweets.â
You fold your arms, slumping back in your seat, letting gravity do half the work of your sulk. âFine then, oh wise love guru. What should i say instead? Like, letâs say he asks me what I'm into and my mind goes blank like last time. What then?â
âYou're asking like itâs that difficult. Just be honest, tell him what you like regardless if it matches his interests. Do you want to be a groupie or be something more than a friend?â
âI want to be someone he likes.â
âSo you're going to play the role of Suguruâs perfect girlfriend? And what after that, genius? Are you just going to pretend forever?â
Gojo looks over to the front counter and smiles at some waitresses standing there already looking in his direction. He turns back as they start giggling and playfully arguing over who should come over to take his order.
âDonât force yourself to perform for him or curate yourself to be digestible. If the two of you are meant to be then he should want you.â
You look away, picking at nothing on your glass. âThat's easy for you to say.â
âIt's actually incredibly tiring being this emotionally intelligent all the time,â he says, face neutral.
You snort despite yourself and he looks satisfied.
âAnd what if I tell him and he doesnât like it?â
Gojo shrugs, slow and deliberate. âThen heâs not for you.â
You frown. âWow, youâre terrible at pep talks.â
One of the waitresses finally makes it to your table, an eager smile on her face and a determined look in her eyes. Behind her, you catch the rest of the staff shooting encouraging looks. She clutches her notepad a little too tightly, taking in a deep breath before talking. âHello, are you, um, both ready to order?â
âYeah,â Gojo says easily, flashing her a smile. âIâll just grab a hazelnut toffee latte with soy milk.â
The woman quickly scribbles his order down. âOf course! One hazelnut toffee latte with soy milk.â
âAnd whatever she wants,â he adds, nodding toward you.
You blink, caught off guard. âOh, I already ordered earlier. I'm fine for now, thanks.â
The waitress spares you a glance, eyes flickering briefly over you before returning to Gojo like a magnet snapping back into place. âNot a problem. Is there anything else I can get you started with today?â
âWe're good, thank you.â
Her face falls. She nods, but lingers a moment too long, clearly hoping for something, another question, a joke, anything to keep the interaction going.
Gojoâs grin grows just a little bit wider as he obliges.
âBusy today?â He asks casually, tone warm and interested.
Her face lights up and she quickly steps forward again. âA little! It's usually busy in the mornings what with the morning rush and all. Honestly, itâs like nonstop until at least 1pm.â
âThatâs brutal,â he sympathises, leaning back in his chair, posture loose and open. âAt least youâve got good coffee to survive on.â
She laughs, a bright and breathy sound that makes it clear sheâs not just laughing at the coffee comment alone. âPerks of the job, I suppose. Do you come here often?â
Gojo tilts his head as if the question deserved genuine thought and wasnât just a throwaway pick up line.
âNot as often as I should,â he decides easily. âBut I might start if the service is this friendly.â
Her smile widens, pink creeping into her cheeks. âWe try our best.â
âI was talking about you, sweetheart.â
Youâve been listening and watching with apt attention, taking mental notes on the right time to smile, when to tilt your head just so, when to tuck your hair behind your ears and when to employ the double tuck, when his last words make you frown.
You clear your throat, eyes fluttering away when both Gojo and waitress look over at you.
âWell,â the waitress starts suddenly, glancing down at her notepad like she needs to remind herself sheâs on the clock, "I'll bring your drink out as soon as itâs ready.â
âLooking forward to it,â Gojo replies, though he hasnât looked away from you yet.
She lingers half a beat longer, then turns and walks away, shoulders a little straighter than before.
âDone staring?â He teases.
âI was not staring. Don't you have the tact to not flirt with someone else when youâre on a date?â
âOh, so now itâs a date? Only when itâs convenient for you, huh?â
You reach over for a napkin and crumble it up to throw it at him. It barely makes it halfway across the table before it starts fluttering down.
âItâs only manners,â you insist, cheeks warm. âI didn't know what to do when the two of you were talking.â
He snorts. âYou couldâve joined the conversation.â
âAnd said what? "Hello, I'm also present and this jerkâs date for the day?â
âHey, I like the sound of that,â he muses.
Your next crumpled up napkin doesnât get any further than its predecessor. You glare at him, something about that conversation rubbing you the wrong way, echoing unpleasantly in your head in a way that makes you want to peel your skin off.
You clear your throat again.
âYou're here to teach me like I taught you statistics, right? Even though one is clearly harder than the other.â
âRight. Getting you to date ready is much more difficult.â
You ignore him to save the life of one napkin. âSo, how do I do that? Flirt so effortlessly and not make it cringe?â
âYou want to use what I just said with the waitress on Suguru?â He actually laughs out loud. âDo not, heâs going to see right through you. You should have met his last ex. The two of them were absolutely disgusting andâ oh wait, should I not talk about that?â
âYeah, letâs not.â
He hums and changes the subject. âAnyway, just let it happen. Be natural. You talk to me just fine.â
âYeah, but youâre you. frivolous, class clown, never takes anything seriously, probably never commits to anything,â you start listing, counting them on your fingers.
âI feel like the first thing and the last thing mean the same thing. Put one finger down.â
You refuse, still holding up four fingers. âSleeps on a mattress on the ground.â
âSo does half of Sig Kap. But relax, I get it. So you suck at flirting. Shouldnât you be happy I gave you a live demonstration of how itâs done?â
That gets you frowning again.
âDo you always call everyone something?â
âWhat does that even mean?â
âYou called her sweetheart.â
âI don't know her name. I wasn't about to call her âwomanâ, that sounds very sexist and I'm a feminist at heart. Thoughts on banning periods?â
âShe has a name tag.â
âI donât look at that area on a woman on the first date,â he pledges.
You continue without thinking.âHow is anyone supposed to know when you actually mean it when you give everyone similar nicknames?â
He goes quiet, eyes narrowing slightly. âWhat?â
Before you can elaborate, or maybe divert and make him look away so you can dig yourself out of the hole you just created, the waitress returns with his drink. She leans over him, placing it down carefully.
âHere you go!â
âThanks,â he says, polite but no longer quite as engaged. In fact, he hasnât looked away from you, still giving you that same disbelieving look.
You fiddle with your own drink. Maybe you should have ordered something else if it meant spicing up the number of objects you have in your possession to pass awkward silence with.
The waitress lingers a moment before hesitantly leaving when itâs clear thereâs no encore performance.
âI just meant itâs confusing for anyone, hypothetically,â you say in a rush, beating him. âAnyway! Flirting techniques, letâs talk about them!â
He watches you for a moment longer before dropping his head and ruffling his hair. You grimace, eyeing how close his head is to his open drink. When he looks back up, whatever conflict on his face has disappeared.
âFine, okay. Let's talk. First of all, itâs important where the date takes place. There's unspoken etiquette for every typical date location.â
âLike how you go on a coffee date, you shouldnât flirt with the waitress.â
Gojo cracks a grin. âYouâre getting it. Look, Suguru is kind of an artsy guy. He'd probably take you to an art museum or like a jazz bar for your first date.â
You narrow your eyes. âHow do you know that?â
âI told you, he tells me everything. Focus.â He dismisses your look. âHeâs kind of an enjoy-the-moment kind of guy. Probably wonât talk too much while youâre both admiring something together and saves all the talking until after when he leads you to some underground totally underrated dinner spot.â
You wince. âShit. I kind of like making little jokes in the moment.â
He snaps his fingers, face brightening. âRight? Like when youâre watching a movie in the cinemas!â
âOkay, that is a bit tricky. It depends.â
âDon't Genshin theorycraft me.â
âYou're lucky I got that reference.â
Gojo shrugs. âWell, Suguru enjoys just existing with his special someone. Don't get me wrong, he definitely talks when you get him started but I think heâs kinda cool for being able to sit in silence with someone.â
You chew the inside of your cheek. âIâm kind of bad with silences. I end up embarrassing myself just to fill them. Do you think itâs fixable? Should I just not talk?â
âWoah, slow down. Itâs fine, he has enough social awareness to fill in the gaps if youâre uncomfortable. But iâm just telling you what he likes,â he studies you. âHe doesnât like petnames, by the way.â
Heat creeps up your neck. âThatâs fine, itâs not a dealbreaker,â you mumble.
âI'm just saying. He's a real fan of using your first name. When you two get on that basis, of course.â
âAnything else, Geto expert?â
Gojo hums, taking a long sip of his latte, eyes tracking up. âHe likes meaningful stuff like art with a story behind it, long conversations about philosophy. Like yeah he still likes doing things just for fun but thereâs a difference between like and love.â
You wince. âBut love is meant to be silly, meaningless stuff. Like sending pictures of dogs cuddling because it reminded you of us or whether youâd still love each other if you turned into worms. Like taking the longer way back home just to spend more time together. Or, I don't know, building blanket forts as adults.â
Gojoâs mouth twitches.
You stop, suddenly aware you sound like youâve been storing these thoughts and theyâve suddenly all gotten loose.
âStuff that doesnât matter,â you finish weakly.
He rests his chin on his palm. âLike going to the arcade and getting plushies for each other at the claw machines?â
You laugh, shoulders relaxing. âI'd obviously do better. You look like you have no hand eye coordination.â
âDid you forget I literally play ice hockey?â
âRight, your role as the benchwarmer?â
âMy ass has never once graced those benches.â
âI don't know, I swear I remember seeing you on the sidelines.â
âYouâve come to watch me play before?â He grins, cheek slightly smushed from his position.
âBecause Shoko went.â
He juts his lower lip out. âHarsh.â
There's a few seconds of silence as the conversation replays and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment. You look up to see if he clocked your earlier slip up but he only tilts his head more into his hand.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â You clear your throat and look down at your drink. It's left behind a ring of water around its base. âHow are you two best friends when youâre so different?â
âBecause he slows me down,â Gojo says like itâs simple. âAnd I drag him out of his head. But he doesnât need another person to do that for him so donât even think of taking my spot.â
You both share a laugh and it lingers a little longer than the joke deserves, warm and easy, until it naturally tapers off into something softer.
âWhy do you even like him?â He suddenly asks, voice soft against the murmur of the cafe.
You slowly slide your gaze out the window as if reliving the moment. You can almost feel the rain on your skin, the warmth of a hoodie not your own, and the residual laughter at the back of your throat that makes you smile.
âLast semester when it was pouring rain, he saw me waiting outside a building without an umbrella and we ended up running through the storm. Itâs stupid but it was fun and meaningless and definitely what I needed after my finals.â
Your words make him frown, finger tracing a random shape on the wet surface of his glass absentmindedly. âThat doesnât sound like him.â
âMaybe you donât know him as well as you thought?â You offer.
âDonât be ridiculous, heâs my other half.â
âAgain, should I be concerned right now?â
âAre you homophobic?â
âNo?â
âThen youâre fine.â
âWaitâŚâ
Gojo glances down at his phone and sighs. âIt's getting late, sweets. I'd love to stay longer but I promised the boys weâd go do this carwashing event.â
He pauses and looks up.
âDid you want to come?â he quickly adds on, âYou donât have to come alone, you could bring Shoko along or something.â
You wrinkle your nose. âNo thanks. You can imagine that sheâs not keen on seeing a bunch of shirtless boys.â
He grins. âSuit yourself. I'll walk you out. It's the least I can do on this date.â
You roll your eyes but stand and follow him out anyway, ducking under his arm as he holds the door open for you. Stepping out, youâre almost blinded by the bright sun and you have to cover your eyes to look up, squinting even with the shade provided by your palm.
He moves to stand in front of you. âWell, I'll see you around.â
Next tutoring session,â you remind him, letting your arm drop to your side. "Don't forget to watch the online lectures before then. And remember to do the weekly quizzes this time. Andââ
He reaches over to ruffle your hair fiercely, laughing when your words turn into a startled squeak.
âYes, yes, I got it,â
He lets you go and watches with a toothy grin as you start fixing your hair, glaring up at him and his audacity to smirk. His face quickly softens.
âSorry I canât walk you back to your dorms. I'm already running kind of late.â
âDon't worry about it,â you say when you feel like you look presentable enough. âUm, get there safe?â
âI will,â he starts stepping back. âText me if you need anything.â
âOkay, make sure toââ
âRelax, sweets, I got it,â He says with a chuckle and a wave, before he turns and starts walking off in your opposite direction.
You watch him go for a little longer before heading back to your dorm.You stare up at your ceiling. your ceiling stares back down at you. You've been staring at your popcorn ceiling for so long that youâve begun to discern shapes and different shades of what you had previously considered to be beige, plain and simple, but was now warping into the image of Gojo.
Something he had done yesterday clung to you even hours after the date. The ease in which he allowed the waitressâ fingers to brush his as he handed her the menus, the way he easily held onto your hand at the party, the lack of concern as he stood close to you on the walk back. You lift up your hands and slowly interlace your fingers. It's comfortable, familiar. until you start wondering one hand as someone else's.
Before you can doubt yourself, you pull yourself up and gather your phone and keys, heading to the door without another thought. On the way through the dorms, you send a quick text.
you: u free? im coming over
You stand outside Gojoâs door and knock. There's a muffled, incoherent reply before the door is pulled open, revealing Gojo. His hair is slightly damp with stubborn strands clinging to his forehead and heâs brushing his teeth. He's not wearing a shirt.
You stare at his chest.
âOne second,â he says around the foam in his mouth. He holds the door open a little wider and ushers you in, letting the door fall to a gentle click behind you. âSit on the couch.â
Wordlessly, you do, watching his bare back as he heads into his bathroom. The sound of water muffles your racing thoughts until he reappears, still shirtless but at least heâs not brushing his teeth anymore.
âHey,â he says, irritatingly casual. âI saw your text. You didnât even wait to see if I was free or not. For the record I am but imagine I wasn't. That would have been an awkward situation and between you and her, I would have picked her.â
You blink away your surprise and look up at him. âHer?â
âItâs a Friday night, Y/N. Youâre lucky I don't have someone over.â
You frown a little at that and he continues, heading to his kitchenette to open his fridge, pulling out two beers. He hands you one, pushing it towards you once more when you donât immediately take up his offer.
âSo, what are you doing here?â
âAre you going to put on a shirt?â
He blinks before a wide grin splits across his face. âI was wondering what you were looking at so deep in thought. I didn't want to assume again after you made a fool of me at the party but I guess you do have working eyes after all. Do you want me to put on a shirt?â
You blush, finally looking away. âObviously.â
He chuckles and places his beer down on the coffee table before going on a hunt to find a clean shirt. âBut from the way you were eyeing me it really wasnât that obvious. Besides, youâre telling me to put on a shirt in my own home?â
âIt's common sense when you have a guest over.â
His voice carries over from his room. âYouâre not really a guest, more like a pest. A guest implies I invited you over, no?â
âBut yesterday you said I could come to you for anything.â
âRight. What was I thinking?â Gojo comes back out and flops next to you, the couch dipping under his sudden weight. He takes the beer from your hands and cracks it open before handing it back and doing the same to his. âSo, you finally going to tell me whatâs up or are you just here to leech off my dwindling beer supply?â
âI donât even drink,â you mumble, watching as the water beads down your fingers.
âNo, but I do have some manners for my guest.â
âYou just saidâŚâ you trail off, recognising that youâll only go round and round in circles if you keep up this conversation. you place the beer on the floor and turn to him. âForget it. I'm here because I need your help.â
âFigures.â He holds the beer to his lips and takes a deep swig. âWhat can I do for you today?â
You bite your lip before turning to him. âCan I kiss you?â
Gojo chokes, pulling the beer from his lips with a hack, liquid spitting out onto his no longer clean shirt and sweatpants. He finally manages to get his mouthful of beer down, but he only coughs and hits at his chest. Hesitantly, you reach over and pat his back lightly.
He shrugs your touch away, looking at you in disbelief. âWhat did you just say?â
âI was wondering if youâd let me kiss you?â
âJust because youâre saying it politer now doesnât take away how crazy you sound.â He stares at you incredulously. âLook, I know we went on a date yesterday but I thought you of all people knew it was a practice date. I'm sorry but I don't feel the same way. Gojo Satoru doesnât do relationships.â
You groan, rolling your eyes. âI didnât suddenly develop a crush on you, Gojo.â
âSatoru,â he corrects you despite his shock.
âSatoru,â you emphasise. âI donât like you.â
âCould have fooled me.â
âYesterday just got me thinking. Youâre so natural with touching and stuff and I realised that I have literally no experience whatsoever. I know Geto isnât the type of person to care about whether I'm a virgin or not but I care. I care because I know I'll freeze up if we ever get to that part.â
He stares at you. âWhen i asked you a few days ago about whether or not you wanted to sleep with him, you told me to shut up.â
âThat was a few days ago.â You shuffle closer to him on the couch and watch as his eyes drop to your thighs inching closer, then back up, something like fear on his face. âI know this is a big favour but I thought since youâve kissed so many girls before and theyâve never meant anything that you might be okay with this? I mean you thought we were going to kiss that time at the party. So is this really that crazy to ask?â
âYes,â he says immediately. âIt is. because you like Suguru and I'm his best friend.â
âBut this is practice.â
âYou canât just echo what I've said in the past.â He runs a hand through his hair, looking off in the distance before coming back to you. âSuguru isnât the type of person to rush to things like that. You'd be in good hands.â
âI know but this is for me. So I know what to expect.â
His face is contorted in a way youâve never seen before. You decide to give another push.
âJust think of me as one of your hookups.â
He exhales softly, eyes staring into yours. âAre you sure? Have you even thought this through?â
âYes, I have,â you lie. âI mean, there arenât any cons. I'll lose my first kiss, get experience, and itâs all under practice anyway so it wonât mean anything. And you get a hookup for the night. It's a win win!â
His face only seems to pale more at your words. âYou havenât had your first kiss yet? Fuck, thatâs a lot of pressure. And I feel like you have the wrong idea about what a hookup entails.â
You shrug. âKissing? Making out?â
âSex.â
You pause. âWell, we wonât go that far. Maybe.â
âMaybe?â He exclaims and you quickly deflect because heâs looking more and more shocked.
âWe can start with kissing.â You shift closer, your thigh pressing against his. âCome on, it doesnât have to mean anything.â
Gojo looks at you, really looks at you, from the encouraging look in your eyes to the determined line of your lips. He huffs, running another hand through his hair at the absurd change to his Friday night plans. Sure, kissing someone wasnât a big deal for him, not when heâs tasted the lips of many before, but there was something different about taking someoneâs first kiss.
Finally, he sighs, long and hard. âJust a kiss.â
You beam, face lighting up. âOf course!â
He hesitates, cursing under his breath something long but incoherent, before gently reaching out to tilt your chin up. âTell me if you change your mind. Just shove me away, okay?â
You nod enthusiastically. âWhat do I have to do?â
âJust let me take the lead for now. And if you feel confident enough to kiss back, go for it.â Again, Gojo mumbles something under his breath, the absurdity of the situation still not lost to him. He leans forward as if to seal the deal before pausing, moving his hand up to caress your cheek tenderly.
Your breath hitches, eyes wide as you curse your own touch-starved form.
âYou okay?â He asks, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. âChanged your mind?â
You shake your head slightly.
Gojo huffs and you feel the puff of air against your lips.
When his lips finally press against yours, fitting against yours in a way youâve only ever seen in movies, you feel⌠nothing. You squeeze your eyes tighter, trying to dig through the sensations and pick out the one thatâs meant to set off fireworks and melt your stomach into goo. Instead, it just feels like thereâs someoneâs lips touching yours.
Sensing your discomfort, Gojo pulls back, eyes fluttering open to meet your unsure ones. His nose scrunches up a little as he studies your expression.
âHey,â he starts, voice low. âYou're hurting my ego.â
You lick your lips, trying to return your lips to their usual sensation. âIt just wasnât what I was expecting.â
âWhat were you expecting?â
âButterflies?â
He chuckles, hand still caressing your cheek. âYou're kissing me without any feeling. Itâs not my fault youâre as stiff as a board. Relax. Imagine Suguru or something.â
Now itâs your turn to make a face. "Wouldn't that hurt your ego more?â
âJust relax,â he repeats and you make the conscious effort to focus on the way heâs stroking your face soothingly. âThatâs it. Good girl.â
âDon't call me that, I cringed.â
He laughs, leaning in. âAbandon the part of you that cringes not the part of you that is cringe.â
With that, he brushes his lips against your again, letting you feel the slow movement and determine the pace.
Itâs not exactly rocket science, this kissing business, and you start to mimic the motion of parting your lips against his. It takes a few tries for him to hum in approval and deepen the kiss, his free hand sliding up to cup your neck and gently pull you closer to him. You let out a soft squeak and quickly pick up from the momentary break in rhythm on your end.
When his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, you blanch and pull back.
âOkay,â he starts. âThat really hurt my feelings.â
âWhat was that?â You cover your mouth with your hands, the slimy sensation replaying in your mind.
âThat was my tongue.â
âWhy didnât it feel good?â
He rolls his eyes at your complaint and slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until youâre half on his lap. âBecause youâre thinking too hard.â
âI was not thinking at all, actually,â you say, scandalised. âI didn't know I was going to be ambushed.â
âOkay, my bad, I should have given you a heads up.â He pauses and announces solemnly, "I'm going to start using my tongue.â
You make a face and he huffs out a laugh, forehead dropping briefly against yours. Up close like this, you can feel the vibration of it in his chest, the way his grip tightens just a little like he doesnât want you getting any bright ideas about you escaping.
âYou're doing fine,â he says more softly, thumb brushing slow circles at your waist.
You think briefly that this must be the allure to him that has girls fawning for his attention. You're not immune either, and you sub consciously melt under his touch, relaxing again. Once youâve done it once, given into his temptation, itâs easy to fall back again.
âFine doesnât seem like outstanding status,â you mumble, trying to maintain some resistance.
âFor your first time, it wasnât so bad.â His nose nudges yours, playfully and coaxing and youâre in his web again. âCâmere.â
Gojo doesnât pull you this time. Instead, he just waits, one arm warm and steady around your hips, hand stroking your hair as he waits for you to come to him. It's a sign of consideration that has you feeling jittery and warm, though thereâs a lazy smirk on his lips that suggests he has other ulterior motives that makes it as infuriating as it is attractive.
Your gaze flicks to his mouth then back to his eyes. His lashes lower just slightly, watching you watch him, and something in your stomach flips over completely. Probably your common sense.
âJust⌠slower,â you mumble.
âYeah,â he says quietly. âSlower.â
He still doesnât move first which is deeply unfair, because now you have to be the brave one.
You lean in. It's clumsy at first, more of a gentle bump of noses and a too-soft press of lips than anything smooth or cinematic like he had kissed you earlier. You almost pull back in embarrassment, ready to admit that maybe he was a better kisser than you had given him credit for if itâll mean this pathetic peck of yours can end and he can make it good again, when his hand tightens on your hip and he takes over.
His mouth settles properly over yours, angle shifting until the awkwardness disappears, until it stops being babyâs first kiss and starts becoming a warm, steady pressure that has your toes curling. Yhe faint brush of his breath against your cheek, the subtle tilt of his head that fits your mouth together and when he nips at your bottom lip, a soft startled sound escapes before you can stop it.
He swallows it down without hesitation.
His hand tightens reflexively and slides down, cupping your ass as he leans back and guides you onto him, fingers pressing into the fabric of your clothes to keep you there, not that you had any plans of moving. One moment your body is twisted awkwardly to meet him and the next youâre seated full on his lap, his warmth solid beneath you.
His breath fans across your cheek in uneven bursts, warm and damp, and the faint scrape of his teeth lingers as a tingling awareness.
You realise, distantly, that youâre no longer stiff.
Your hands, which had been braced awkwardly against his shoulders, loosen without permission. One slides up into his hair as you lean into him, damp strands cool at the ends, warm near the scalp, and the sensation grounds you in a way nothing else does. His mouth opens at the sensation and when his tongue sweeps along your lower lip again, you donât pull away. It isnât slimy or invasive like last time, in fact you welcome it, mimicking his openness and the kiss deepens.
Your breath mingles, movements syncing up and under the guidance of his lips and tongue, you start getting bolder.
You shift closer, just a fraction, your head moving up and face tilting down to angle yourself deeper when a low sound slips out of him.
Your eyes fly open and you pull away. âWas thatââ
âNope,â he says immediately, eyes darker than when you last checked. He's panting beneath your palms, a slightly warm tint to his face as he stares at you.
You swallow. âYou justââ
âI didnât,â he insists, far too quickly.
When heâs so adamant like that, itâs a little hard to say anything more. Besides, while itâs almost fun to poke the bear, the memory of his mouth on yours has you thinking about something else entirely.
You donât move from his lap and he doesnât push you off.
âThink youâre getting it?â he asks, watching you with something unreadable lurking in his eyes.
You donât hesitate. âNo.â
You stare at each other, catching a much needed breath.
âAlright,â he says, voice rough. âOne more. and then we have to stop.â
You lean in and he lets out a soft sigh like a man doomed before meeting you halfway.
Gojo doesnât start slow this time, maybe because he knows if he does, he wonât be able to control himself.
His hand slides more firmly to the back of your neck, guiding you towards him with a kind of impatience, mouth finding yours with confidence, your chest tightening at the gesture. Your fingers clutch at his shirt instinctively and he makes a low noise at the back of his throat, deepening the kiss until you slide your fingers up and into his hair.
A low exhale slips through his nose, almost shaky and he tilts his head in response to your faint tugs.
âThatâs it,â he murmurs against your lips.
Emboldened, you tilt your head and slide your tongue into his mouth to taste him. He tastes like beer and minty and something addictive that has you repeating the movement over and over. When he reciprocates, your stomach swoops instead of recoiling.
You shift, suddenly desperate to get closer and settle over his bulge.
Wow.
You both jerk away from each other quickly, your hands leaving his hair and his arm retracting from your waist. The break feels violent in its suddenness, like surfacing too fast in deep water.
Cold air rushes between you where there had only been warmth seconds ago. Your lips tingle, oversensitive, parted as you drag in a shaky breath. Gojoâs chest rises and falls sharply, eyes wide in a way youâve never seen before, pupils blow dark. For once, there is no smirk, no teasing glint, just a raw, stunned awareness, like heâs trying to process several things at once and failing at all of them.
You become acutely aware of exactly where youâre sitting.
Heat floods your face and to the tips of your ears. you scramble backward, knees slipping against the couch cushions, putting space between your bodies even as the loss of his warmth makes your skin prickle.
âOh my god,â you breathe, horrified. âI didnâtâI mean, I wasn't trying toââ
âDonât,â he groans, slumping back, covering his flushed face with his arm. His other hand reaches down to adjust himself though he doesnât seem to have any ideas of covering himself so you watch unabashedly. âJust donât say anything for a second.â
You clamp your mouth shut obediently.
The room feels too small, too quiet, every little sound like the rustle of fabric or the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchenette, even your own uneven breathing, suddenly feels magnified.
Eventually, Gojo pulls himself up, fixing dark eyes on your figure.
âIâm sorry.â You rush to say, though youâre not sure what youâre apologising for.
âItâs fine, itâs not your fault. It wasn't because of you, I guess I've just been pent up,â he runs his hand through his hair and you watch as he pauses, something passing over his face before he abruptly pulls his hand away. âAnyway, itâs normal.â
You nod too fast. âRight, yes. Totally fine. Super normal, nothing weird happened.â
âRight,â he says. âNothing weird.â
Your shoulders sag a little, tension leaking out now that thatâs been cleared up. The adrenaline leaves behind a strange floaty sensation and you try, and fail, to push down the sudden desire to continue, to explore even further.
âWeâre definitely stopping the practice today,â he says, crushing your dreams.
You nod again, somewhat grateful that a decision has been made for you considering the conflict thoughts warring in your head. âOkay.â
He suddenly ruffles his hair all messy and stands up with an exaggerated groan that makes you jump. âOkay! That's over. You did good by the way. Youâre gonna be trouble when you actually start dating someone.â
You frown. âWhy?â
âIt's a compliment, sweets, learn to recognise them, yeah?â He starts walking over to his kitchenette. âWant an actual drink?â
Your brain is still somewhere back in that last kiss, struggling to catch up. âSure. Just water, right?â
He snorts. âIâm not a creep.â
When you lean back against the couch and close your eyes to recenter yourself, he steals a glance and lets out a long exhale. He closes his eyes for a moment like heâs deeply exhausted.
When he opens his eyes again and makes his way to you, his signature smirk is back.
If anyone saw how nervous you look about to text Gojo, they might think you had a crush on him. Which is absurd because you clearly have a crush on Geto.
Your thumb hovers over the send button, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you debate whether this is a good idea or not.
Itâs been a week since you first asked Gojo for advice and though his methods werenât orthodox nor was he incredible help, you still had to give him his merits. Talking to him was relaxing in a way, the constant back and forth familiar and even his judgement didnât seem to come from a bad place. The physical stuff was a whole other story and did not influence your thoughts on how you felt about him whatsoever.
In summary, Gojo has given you determination that you couldnât have achieved on your own.
Using this newfound confidence, you take a deep breath and finally hit send.
you: hey are you in class today?
Not even a full minute later, his reply buzzes.
gojo: yeah i am
stalking me, super fan?
you: god this is exactly why i hate texting u
gojo: :(
why whats up though
ur class doesnât finish until 2 right?
you: yeah how did u know that?
u sure ure not my super fan?
gojo: guilty!
i just know dont ask what u cant handle
so u gonna leave me in suspense or are u gonna tell me
you: well you have class with geto right
The inside of your cheeks starts getting a little tender as you continue to gnaw and bite at the flesh, anxiously waiting as Gojoâs typing bubbles appear and disappear.
gojo: yeah i do
you: can i come see you?
gojo: what
you: like ill come to your class but can you leave after so its just me and him
u were talking about creating these situations on saturday right
so like
wouldnt this be perfect?
gojo: god this conversation isnât good for my heart
you: ?
gojo: our class ends later than urs
you: thatâs fine i can wait !!
gojo: nah i dont feel like it
you: ?????
man what the hell you said youâd help me
gojo: and i did
on saturday
what if i want suguru all to myself today?
you: come on please???
gojo: what if i dont want to see u
you: well i wont be bothering u this time
i just need an excuse to see him
i think whatever magic u casted over me on sat worked im feeling like scarily confident
i want to talk to him before the feeling goes away
like i feel like i can really do it this time you know?
please satoru?
gojo: god u have no idea how evil u are
fine
ill get us to go to the library
you: THANK YOU@!!!!!!
gojo: u owe me
you: YES DEFINITELY
gojo: another date this friday then
you: OKAY!!!
wait what
Waiting at the library is agonising. you attempt to complete some smaller tasks for your courses that youâve left in lieu of thinking about, well, boys. But just like every time before, your thoughts stray and settle on him. His pretty effortless smiles, his soft laughter, that sparkling glint in his eyes when he looks at you and itâs like the world quietens just to listen too. his long fingers, the mole on his earlobe, his whiteâ
When your phone buzzes again an hour later, you jump up from your seat to find the location of the photo Gojo sent.
You slip into the fifth library floor as quietly as possible, scanning the endless rows of students for the familiar top of someoneâs head. It doesn't take long for your eyes to settle on him.
Gojo is impossible to miss, slouched low in a study booth, hood up and drooping over his hair and the bottom pulled up to cover his mouth. His arms are crossed over his chest as he stares at his laptop screen.
And of course, Geto sits across from him.
Taking in a deep breath, you slow your pace into something that might pass as a casual stroll as if you had randomly come upon them by chance and stop by their booth.
âOh, hi Satoru!â
He doesnât look up. âHey.â
Then, after a manual moment, you turn to Geto. âOh my god! Geto? Wow.â Your voice comes out pitched a little too loud. âWhat a coincidence!â
Geto looks up with a smile. âHey, Y/N. What are the chances we ran into each other?â
Gojo snorts and you donât miss how pointed it is. You take the chance to glare at the side of his face but he only sinks into his hoodie with a grumble. You continue to stare, even narrowing your eyes as if itâll sharpen your gaze and he finally lets out a loud groan, flipping the hood down to ruffle his hair and sit up.
âOh no,â he announces into the silence, loud enough to draw a few irritated glances, not that he cares. He checks his phone, staring at his empty notification list. âIt looks like my best friend accidentally locked himself out of his dorm.â
Geto pauses. âI'm your best friend.â
You purse your lips, watching as Gojo begins to slowly pack up his things. Granted, he only needed to close his laptop and shove it into his tote bag, without a case mind you. He refuses to look up despite your efforts to catch his gaze.
âSorry man, duty calls. I canât help that iâm such a good friend.â He stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. When he passes by, his arm brushing against yours despite the empty space all around, he leans down to whisper, âGood luck.â
You donât have the time to decipher if itâs sincerity or sarcasm that you detect because he leaves, his lingering cologne the only sign that he was ever there.
You turn back to Geto, offering a small, awkward smile, wondering if heâs caught on.
âWhat was that about?â You laugh.
Geto chuckles softly. âSorry about him. You know how he can be sometimes.â
He looks up at you patiently.
âWell, an empty spot has opened up. Are you staying to study?â
You fight the urge to celebrate. You happily erase thoughts of Gojo from your mind, leaving the gruelling task of decoding his strange behaviour for another day. Gojoâs seat is still warm when you take it, pulling out your laptop just for the act. There was no way you were wasting this golden opportunity with actually studying, donât be silly.
âSo,â you begin, picking at the corner of your sleeve. âAny plans this weekend?â
âYou didnât hear? Satoru is having a game this weekend. Itâs just a preliminary but heâs been hyped for it. I'm sure heâd love it if you rocked up.â
You almost laugh out loud. âNo way. He'd hate that.â
Getoâs brows lift, amused. âWhy would he hate it?â
âBecause,â you say, gesturing vaguely. âWe're not really friends. More like we have a symbiotic relationship. If we didnât have that, I doubt weâd even talk to each other.â
âI don't think so,â Geto smiles at you but instead of giving you the butterflies, it leaves you feeling unsure. âBut you should come. Not by yourself, of course, I'm sure Shoko would come along.â
âIf she was going to go, sheâd just take Utahime.â You shift in your seat, throwing the idea around in your head. âEven if I wanted to, I don't think I know anyone else whoâd want to come with.â
âDo you want to go with me?â
Your brain blanks.
âWhat?â
âI was planning on going anyway,â he says, tone casual and all your senses tunnel-vision on him. âBesides, I've been curious about the girl whoâs been taking up so much of Satoruâs time.â
Your answer is obvious.
âIâd love to!â
It comes out a little too fast, a little too bright, but you canât quite bring yourself to care. Relief, excitement, disbelief, it all tangles together in your chest until the only discernable thing left is a giddy sort of lightness.
Getoâs smile widens, clearly pleased and you beam back. He hands you his phone.
âCan I have your Insta then? So I can text you the details later.â
Your hands shake as you take it, thumbs clumsy as you type in your username, backspacing more times than youâd like to admit. Youâre suddenly hyperaware of everything, the way heâs close enough to see your screen, the warmth of his hand where it had just been, the ridiculous desire to go through your own profile but through his eyes settling on your mind. Later, you can already imagine stalking your own profile, scrutinising every photo, every caption, trying to imagine what it would look like to be him scrolling through for the first time.
When he takes his phone back, he doesnât immediately pocket it. Instead, he actually looks, thumb scrolling down, humming.
Oh god, heâs looking right now.
"Where's that quote from your bio from?â He asks, glancing up briefly. âIt sounds familiar.â
âOh, um. Itâs from my favourite novel.â Your eyes flutter across his face as you tell him the title, sneaking in a quick description to try to sell it.
âIâll have to check it out then,â Geto says, putting his phone away. âDo you read often?â
âNot as much as I want to. You know how it is, with school and everything. Not to mention books are crazy expensive nowadays.â
He nods sympathetically. âThere's this small bookshop tucked away near the city. It's actually close by the rink where Satoruâs game is. I could show you after his game on Saturday.â
Your breath catches.
âAfter the game?â You repeat, trying very hard to sound normal and not out-of-breath.
Geto nods, completely at ease.
âIf youâre not in a rush to get back after,â he adds, considerate as ever. âIt says open pretty late.â
You stare at him for a second, thoughts scrambling over each other.
Heâs inviting you out after a game. That meant walking together, talking more, being alone without the buffer of a crowd screaming over a bunch of men slamming into each other and hitting with their sticks.
You realise youâre meant to give an answer and quickly hurry.
âYeah, that sounds perfect actually!â You say, a touch too fast, then wince and try again, softer. âI meanâyeah. That sounds really nice.â
âGood,â he says simply, smile deepening. âIt's a cozy place. You could get lost in there for hours.â
âThat sounds dangerous. I already have a book-buying problem."
âSecondhand prices,â he reminds you. âIt's much safer.â
You hum. âThat's debateable. Lower prices just means I have to buy more.â
You canât believe your luck. Not only had Geto basically invited you on a date to Gojoâs game, heâs also asked you to go book shopping together afterward. And somehow, you had just finished a perfectly normal conversation with him without embarrassing yourself beyond recovery.
Could things possibly get any better?
âYou know,â he starts up again and you lean in. âSatoruâs doing suspiciously good in his classes recently. Any clue why?â
You freeze, temporarily thrown off guard. âHe better be. I don't tutor him for nothing.â
âI knew it was you. Why are you tutoring him? If heâs blackmailing you, I can help,â he says with a straight face.
âNo, no! Nothing like that!â You rush to explain.
He cracks a smile. âIâm just joking. He's not actually as bad as his reputation makes him out to be. It's all bad rep, you know?â
While youâve known Gojo through his reputation for as long as you can remember, youâve never once stopped to consider that might not be everything about him.
âWhat do you mean?â
âSig Kap had a frat sweetheart two years ago,â Geto explains, folding his hands loosely on his laptop. âShe was nice, really sweet but some of the older guys treated her like shit. When Satoru called some of the boys out for messing with her they werenât too happy.â
Your brows lift. âSo did they kick him out or something?â
âNot that thereâs much they could have done considering his family.â
âWhat about them?â
He glances at you surprised. âYou donât know?â
You shake your head.
âHuh.â His expression softens into something gentler. âYeah. A lot of people approach him because they want something, connections, favours, you know the deal. He absolutely hates it. Ironically, that influence is also what kept the older guys from pushing back too hard and they couldnât exactly scare him off so heâs there to stay.â
âAnd some people still donât like him?â
âSome still donât,â Geto confirms. âSo they spread all those stupid rumours instead. Probably easier that way since itâs not exactly traceable.â
Your stomach tightens. âWhat kind of rumours?â
He hesitates, then shrugs. âStuff about him sleeping around. that heâs messed with every girl on campus, that kind of thing. You donât have to look so devastated, it doesnât bother him much. If anything, it gets him more game. But itâs far from the truth. I mean youâre a girl on campus and he hasnât messed with you.â
Something about the way he says it, calm and matter-of-fact, makes your chest ache.
âHe did earn a lot of respect back,â Geto continues, oblivious to your growing distress. âEspecially from the younger guys. But some of the older ones never really got over it.â
He falls silent, studying you with that gentle, searching look that makes you feel like youâre under a microscope and the spotlight is shining down on you. Whatever he sees under the lens makes him smile.
âItâs nice,â he says softly. âThat youâre so genuine with him. He doesnât get that very often.â
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Couldn't he have used a word other than âgenuineâ? Because you arenât genuine, far from it, and that realisation makes your stomach drop, nausea blooming sharp and sudden and upheaving the contents.
You approached Gojo with a plan just like all those who have approached him with ulterior motives in the past. And youâve used him for his friendship and his willingness to help, to get closer to the person right in front of you.
You are no better than the people Geto just described. Worse, even.
Heat rushes to your face, then drains away just as quickly, leaving you cold.
You push your chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.
âWhere did Gojo go?â you ask, wincing internally.
Geto blinks up at you, startled by the sudden shift. âOh, uh.â He gestures vaguely toward the exit. âHe said he had to help meâthat is, his friend unlock his door. He's probably back in his room now though.â
You nod too quickly, already stuffing your laptop into your bag with fumbling hands, cables tangling as if theyâre conspiring against you.
âAre you going after him?â Geto asks gently.
You freeze for a split second.
Are you?Here you are, sitting across from the person you supposedly like, the person you engineered this entire situation to get closer to, and youâre about to abandon the conversation to chase after his best friend. This is your chance, the perfect golden opportunity, and youâre throwing it away. and yet, you canât bring yourself to completely doubt yourself.
âYeah,â you say, half a smile hovering on your lips. âIâm so sorry. Thereâs just something I need to say to him.â
You bite your lip.
âSee you at the match though?"
Getoâs surprise melts into an easy grin. "Don't worry about it. Good luck. And Y/N, seriously, take care of him, okay?â
The words prick at your skin with a faint sense of deja vu, but you donât stop to examine it. Instead, you give Geto one last shaky smile, sling your bag over your shoulder, and hurry toward the exit. Your heart pounds so loudly it drowns everything else.Â
You knock at what you believe is his door if memory serves correct.
âGo away, I'm jerking it.â
You canât decide if heâs being serious or just scaring unwanted guests away. Regardless, you clear your throat and talk.
âSorry for interrupting? Look, itâs me, itâs Y/N. Can I come in?â
No sooner had you said your name, the door flies open, Gojo standing right behind, eyes wide and face flushed.
âY/N? What are youâI mean, I thought you had that date with Suguru?â He goes to run a hand through his hair but pauses, switching to his other hand.
âYeah well, clearly I left him to come see you.â You sigh deeply and brush past him into his room. âThereâs something I need to say to you and itâs really eating up at me for some reason.â
âNo sure, go ahead. Walk right in,â he mumbles but doesnât try to stop you, instead closing the door gently. âWhat are you doing here? Because if youâre here to gloat or have a girl talk, Shoko is the one for you.â
You flop onto his couch, staring up at his ceiling. He pauses before following, the couch cushions dipping under his weight as he drops down beside you.
âGojo, Iâm really sorry,â you say, turning to him.
He stares back unamused. âI told you to call me Satoru.â
You blink, momentarily caught off guard before correcting yourself. âSatoru. I'm really sorry.â
âOkay.â His frown lifts and he leans back to look at you. âAbout what?â
You open your mouth, then close it again, suddenly unsure where to even start.
âAbout everything?â You try weakly.
He raises a brow. âThat narrows it down.â
You groan, dragging a hand over your face. âOkay, specifically I feel like I've been using you and being annoying and dragging you into my mess. And also I abandoned you in the library which was rude and I donât know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn't and I'm really sorry.â
Gojo blinks at you and you hold your breath for the verdict.
â...thatâs it?â
âThatâs not âitâ, thatâs a lot,â you argue, pushing yourself up. âYou've been helping me this whole time and I'm just barging into your life, asking for unreasonable favors and taking up your time.â
He watches you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes, surprise, confusion, maybe even something softer that he quickly buries under a flippant expression.
âThat's it?â he repeats, slower this time.
You nod, twisting in your fingers together in your lap, the fight leaving your body as quick as it came. âI mean, it's not nothing. I know I've been a lot. And you didnât have to help me at all, with any of it, but you did and IâŚâ Your voice falters. âI don't want you to think I was just⌠using you.â
Silence settles between you, thick but not entirely uncomfortable. The hum of his mini fridge in the corner fills the gaps. Somewhere down the hall, a door slams and laughter echoes faintly before fading.
Gojo exhales through his nose and leans back, head tipping against the couch cushion as he stares up at the ceiling.
âYouâre terrible,â he mutters.
He turns his head to look at you properly, blue eyes sharp in a way that makes your chest tighten. Up close like this, without the buffer of banter or crowds or motion, itâs impossible to ignore how intense he can be when he isnât performing for anyone. You've had the privilege to see this side of him a few times, and the thought that heâs let you in and youâve only gone and used him fills you with more guilt.
âYou didnât abandon me in the library,â he continues. âI left on my own free will, remember?â
âYeah butââ
âAnd youâre not using me,â he adds, voice flattening slightly. âIf you were, then you arenât using me to my full potential.â
You huff a weak laugh. âThanks?â
âI mean it,â he says, not smiling. âPeople who use others donât show up at their door looking like theyâre going to throw up from guilt.â
Heat creeps up your neck. âI did not look like that.â
âYou did,â he says easily. âStill kind of do.â
You shove his shoulder lightly. He barely moves, solid as ever, but the corner of his mouth lifts and the tension in your chest loosens at the sight.
âSo⌠youâre not mad?â You ask carefully.
He considers that more seriously than you expected. âI was.â
The worry comes back tenfold.
âBut not for the reason you think. So stop looking like youâve aged ten years, sweets, itâs not a good look on you.â
You wait for him to elaborate but he doesnât.
You sigh, unable to keep up with the emotional whiplash and opt to instead throw it all away.
âOkay, well thatâs cryptic," you mutter.
He shrugs. âI'm a mysterious guy. Itâs all part of the irresistable, untouchable charm.â
âI donât see how you can be mysterious when youâre so loud.â
âI open up to you and this is what I get?â
âYou did not open up.â
He turns his head back toward the ceiling. âAnd now I'm closing back down.â
You roll your eyes, but the knot in your chest has loosened enough that you can breathe again, you almost miss this back and forth and it seems he does too because he relaxes fully into his couch. Without thinking, you mimic him, shoulder brushing his. This time, neither of you moves away.
The proximity feels different than before. You've been closer to him than this, and you randomly recall being on his lap for some reason unrelated to this specific moment and the charged, quiet atmosphere.
After a moment, he speaks again, softer.
âDid you at least get what you wanted?â
You hesitate, the question knocking you out of orbit. âI think so. I mean he asked me to go to the game with him. and then a bookstore after.â
Gojo goes still beside you.
âMy game?â He shakes his head with a scoff. âFigures. Well, good for you.â
You twist the fabric of your sleeve between your fingers, suddenly unsure why that answer feels so unsatisfying.
âYeah,â you say anyway, forcing brightness into your voice. âIt is good.â
He hums noncommittally, eyes still fixed somewhere on the ceiling. For someone who never shuts up, his silence feels louder than anything he could say. You sneak glances at him from the corner of your eye, observing the strong curve of his nose, the harsh bob of his Adam's apple, the rise and fall of his chest and his big hands youâve had the opportunity to feel on your ass.
The quiet stretches, though it is far from quiet inside your head.
Then, before you can stop yourself, youâre already opening your mouth.
âCan I ask you something?â
His gaze slides to you instantly, sharp and attentive as if he was waiting for you to break the silence first. âNot to be that guy but you just did.â
âA real question.â You roll your eyes though his somewhat predictable rage bait helps ease some tension. Still, you hesitate, throat tight. If you say it out loud, it becomes real and no longer a suppressed fantasy. But if you donât say anything, this feeling in your chest might never go away, tainting every future you might have with Geto.
âHow do you know what youâre doing?â You ask.
One white brow lifts. âIn what context? I'm good at a lot of things. You're gonna have to narrow it down, sweets.â
You groan softly. âWith girls. With⌠touching. And stuff. Etcetera.â
Understanding dawns slowly, then all at once. You donât catch the shift in experience because you stare stubbornly at your hands clasp in your lap, heat flooding your face.
âOh.â
âI just donât know,â you admit, voice small. âI don't know what I'm doing at all and itâs embarrassing.â
He sits up a little, attention sharpening in a way that makes your skin prickle.
âY/N.â
You press on before he can interrupt. âI mean, I know theoretically, obviously. That's what bio class is for right? But I know in practice Iâll just freeze. Or overthink or do nothing. And if things ever go further with Geto, I don't want to be useless. You mentioned heâs had exes before, right? But I haven't. And that kind of sucks to think about.â
Then softly. âYou're probably the closest thing to experience I have.â
âUseless,â he starts. âIs not the right word I'd use. Suguru would never think that. Heâs not a dick.â
You finally look at him. âI donât want him to regret it. Or think I'm awkward. or that I don't want him.â
He studies you for a long moment, jaw tight, eyes searching your face like heâs looking for something he hopes not to find. âAnd youâre telling me this becauseâŚ?â
You scoff. âYou're not stupid. I mean sure, you almost failed babyâs first statistics but youâre not dumb.â
âNo, I guess I'm not, thanks,â he sighs, running a hand through his hair. âBut I was kind of hoping maybe I'm still fantasising.â
âYou were fantasising before?â
âLet's not go there.â
âItâs a Friday,â you say slowly. "Shouldn't you have a hook up right about now?â
He pouts, looking oddly down. âI wasn't feeling like it.â
âSo you had to use your hand.â
âI wasn't jerking off, Y/N.â
Neither of you believe that statement. Here you are, sitting on the couch of campus heartthrob Gojo Satoru, joking around about the lack of a female body against him while youâre upset about being a virgin. Even Gojo, who isnât admittedly the best at math, shouldnât struggle with putting two and two together.
âRight, I believe you.â You bite your lip, opening your eyes wider as you plead. âI just hate feeling unprepared. Youâve seen just how bad I freeze. Canât you help me?â
He chews on his lips aggressively before finally groaning, running a hand down his face. âYou have the worst ideas known to man. Fine. I'll help you. But we're stopping if it gets weird.â
âObviously.â
âDo you even remember how to kiss?â
âFind out for yourself.â
You grab his collar and tug him towards you, smacking your lips against his the second heâs in range. It's not the graceful, fireworks-exploding moment from rom-coms, more like two magnets clashing awkwardly, teeth bumping before you recall the right angle. Gojo chuckles into the kiss, the vibration tickling your mouth, and you pull back just enough to glare at him.
âIt hurts that you donât remember my lessons, sweets,â Gojo purrs, clearly enjoying your fluster.
âShut up and kiss me properly,â you mutter, snarky even as your cheeks burn.
You dive back in, and this time it clicks, most likely due to his more active participation. Your lips move in sync, his tongue slipping past your teeth. It's surprisingly nice, all heat and shared air, making your stomach flip in a way thatâs equal parts nerves and excitement. You didnât realise how much you were craving this since the last time.
Gojoâs hands stay loose on your waist, respectful but firm, until he deepens the kiss with a low hum. You feel him shift under you, his body reacting before his brain catches up. When you break apart for air, his eyes are darker, pupils blown wide. He adjusts his hips, and thereâs no missing the semi-hard bulge straining against his jeans because it nudges insistently against your inner thigh.
You both look down.
âUh, yeah,â he says, voice a little rough, something like accusation in his eyes as he glares down at Gojo junior. âGuess that means you do remember lesson one after all. Mind if I lose the pants?â
You snort, trying to play it cool despite the heat pooling in your gut. âNot so reluctant now, huh?â
âGame is game.â
He grins, all cock swagger, and pops the buttons off his jeans. They slide down his legs in a heap, leaving him in snug black boxers that do nothing to hide his growing interest. Gojoâs leaner than youâd pegged him for, abs carved from lazy gym sessions, waist dipping in before flaring to solid shoulders. But your eyes zero in lower, where his cock twitches half-hard against the fabric, outlining a decent length thatâs got you curiously intrigued rather than intimidated.
When he sits back down, he leans back on his palms and smirks. âYou can touch me, you know. I bet itâs better than just looking.â
âAnywhere?â
âI'm practically offering myself up to you on a platter. Yes, Y/N. Everywhereâs fair game.âÂ
You eye him for a little longer. He's not as big as he carried himself around to be.
As if sensing your unspoken realisation, he hurriedly explains, "I'm not completely hard yet.â
You nod, sympathetically. âRight, no I get it.â
âIâm serious, Y/N, stop looking at me like that.â
He grabs your hand and places it on his abs, ignoring your sudden squeak.
âYouâre going to have to work to get me there.â He watches as you hesitate, his heartbeat quickening slightly under your touch.
âThis seems less like teaching and more like you just wanting someone to get you off.â
âYouâre learning.â Despite his teasing tone, he eases you closer to him. âLook, itâs not exactly rocket science and what I tell you probably wonât apply to everyone. But most guys are animals so if you can make them feel good then thatâs all that matters. What's meta for most guys though is probably their neck and lower stomach. But you can start anywhere.â
His smirk falters just a tad when you explore, tentatively at first, palms sliding over his ribs and thumbs brushing his nipples until they pebble under your touch. Gojoâs breath hitches, but he keeps it together, murmuring encouragement. âI guess you could try there too. Fuck, this is kind of embarrassing. Canât you be normal and go at my neck or something?â
âYour neck?â Your fingers slide up to touch him there but he laughs and gently brushes your hand away.
âOkay, donât strangle me. When I say touch, I don't just mean with your fingers. You can touch your lips too, canât you?â
You bite your lips and nod, wetting them quickly with your tongue. You lean in closer, your lips finding the pulse point of his neck. It's a quick peck at first, testing, and he just arches a brow, unimpressed.
Fine, challenge accepted.
You brace yourself on his shoulders and lick a slow stripe up the tendon, tasting salt and faint cologne which isnât the best tasting thing in the world, so you nibble the skin. Gojo hums, head tilting to give you better access, and you dive in, sucking lightly, alternating with kisses that leave faint marks.
Itâs heady, this rush of control. His bare chest radiates warmth against your arm, heavy breaths ghosting your ear as he lets you lead.
âHungry, are you?â Gojo finds his footing against the absurd situation because if thereâs one thing he knows, itâs receiving attention from pretty women. If he closes his eyes like so, focusing only on the cute licks against his neck, he can almost ignore the fact that itâs coming from you. âI'd be careful not to leave any marks. Girls get jealous easily, you know?â
You roll your eyes at his very unsexy comment. He's underestimating you, youâre sure he is, and youâre even more determined to prove him wrong.
You kiss down his neck, licking at the column of his neck, and when you find this soft patch of skin, pale under your lips and glimmering with a thin layer of sweat, you do what your instincts roar at you to do and bite him as heâs mid yapping.
âI never really let girls kiss me like this, so be grateful that Iâohfuck!â
Gojoâs reaction is immediate as a downright sinful moan escapes his pretty lips unchecked. His hands tighten in your hips, head dropping forward, panting as he catches his breath from the sudden sharp inhale.
You let go, licking at the mark left behind. âOh, sorry. You donât do marks, right?â
âThat wasâŚâ He trails off, eyes dark as he holds you in his gaze. âJesus, sweets, where did you even learn that kind of stuff?â
You shrug, letting him hold you back and feeling a little bit like a rabid animal. âIt was just something I wanted to do. Was it bad? Did it hurt?â
âNo, it was fine. Keep going just⌠use your hands a bit more too,â he hurries to add on, clearing his throat and loosening his hold on you. âIt feels better if you use both your mouth and hands at the same time. Keep going, but donât forget the rest of me.â
Finding no error in his words, you enthusiastically go back to kissing and sucking on his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat. Meanwhile, you slide your hands down his chest, marveling at how smooth he feels despite his muscle.
When you graze your finger tips between the medial line of his abs, you feel him shiver and you detach your lips from his neck to watch his eyes track your every move, hungry and unblinking.
âAtta girl,â he rasps, abs flexing under your palm and he shivers as you slide even further down, hand hovering his stomach. His cock visibly thickens in his boxers as you trace the ridges of his abs.âThatâs it. Take your time, sweets. I'm not going anywhere.â
You never considered that Gojo would be so vocal during sex, not that this even counted as sex yet. If anything, that made you even more curious, wondering if he himself knew how much he was talking and how little any of it even meant. In case he didnât, you didnât dare talk in case it would break the spell.
Your fingers skim the waistband of his boxers and he sucks in a breath, voice dropping an octave.
âFuck, yeah. Thatâs the spot.â The fabric tents fully now, his cock hard and straining, the tip outlined clearly. It's thicker than you expected, pulsing with need, and the sight sends a thrill straight to your core.
Gojoâs eyes flick between your hand and your face, flushed and focused. âSee? told you itâd wake up. want to see all of it?â
You nod, eyes trained on his bulge.
He grins, taking your hands to hook your thumbs into the sides of his boxers. He helps you slightly though he lets you do most of the work. Emboldened, you tug the boxers down just enough to free his cock, watching it spring up, thicker now, veins prominent along the shaft, the head flushed and glistening with a bead of precum.
Your first words are, of course, very sexy.
âOh damn.â
Gojo laughs breathlessly. For my own ego, I'm going to take that as a good thing.â
âIt just doesnât look how I expected it to.â
That makes him frown. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. âHey. She has feelings too, you know. Donât imply that sheâs ugly, sheâll sag.â
âShe?â It's so ridiculous you snort, the nervousness running away to let curiousity fuel your movements once again, fingers curling around his hot, velvety length. He's rock hard under your soft touch, precum slicking your palm as you pump him experimentally. Gojo groans low in his throat, head falling back against the couch.
âShit, just likeânghâthat,â he grits out, voice wrecked. The sound hits you like a spark, raw and primal, making your thighs clench. âMyâmy dick has she/her pronouns. Itâs 2026 now, get woke.â
Still looking at you, he takes your hand again, wrapping it around his shaft.
âHold it properly. Feel how hot it is.â
He groans softly as you hold him, guiding your hand up and down in a slow stroke, pressing down where heâs sensitive just the way he likes it. âSqueeze gently and twist your wrist as you move.â
He demonstrates the twist motion, his large hand enveloping yours, precum beading at his tip from both the sight and feel of you.
He lets you go, leaning back on his elbows, enjoying the view of you jacking him off. âYouâre a natural, keep going, just like that.â
His breathing becomes heavier, his abdomen tensing. He canât help but buck slightly into your hand.
Despite his unattractive dirty talk, it doesnât drive away the power you feel and it doesnât take away from the sounds, the way his body trembles under your control. It's all so intoxicating, way better than any awkward fumble youâve imagined with Geto late at night with your hands down your pants.
To shut him up, you squeeze a little tighter and he hisses, pulling you away.
âSlow down,â he pants, catching his breath. He closes his eyes for a moment before locking you in a fierce gaze. âDo you usually shove your finger inside when youâre dry?â
âWhat?â
âThis is why lube exists, woman. God, my poor lady,â He looks up at you, eyes trailing down from your eyes to your lips.
âPlease donât refer to your dick as a lady.â
âIâve gotten no complaints so far.â Gojo reaches up, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, dragging it down slightly. âHave you ever spat on anyone?â
âExcuse me?â You look down at him as if heâs grown another head.
He lets out a strangled groan, hips bucking up under you. âYeah, keep looking at me like that and spit on my dick. Give her the good old hawk tuah.â
Your grimace only grows and he bites his lip, the corners quirking up. âPlease,â he whispers and youâve lost.
The word hangs between you like a dare, his blue eyes locked on yours, all wide and pleading in a way that clashes hilariously with his usual attitude if the unsure quiver to his lips didnât wreck you.
Gojoâs cock throbs in your loose grip, the head leaking more precum that drips down the shaft, making your fingers slick without even trying. You hesitate, face heating up at the sheer audacity, but the way his abs tense, the subtle roll of his hips begging for more, chips away at your resistance.
âFine,â you mutter, rolling your eyes to mask the flutter in your stomach and you must have imagined the way he groans. âBut just know Iâm judging you the entire time.â
âEven better,â he moans.
You lean over him, one hand steadying on his thick thighs, firm muscle under smooth skin, and purse your lips as you spit on him. Itâs awkward as hell, the glop of spit landing off-centre on the underside of his shaft, but you smear it around with your palm.
The glide turns smoother instantly, wet and filthy, your strokes picking up speed as his cock slicks up fully.
Gojoâs reaction is immediate, a deep, rumbling moan spills from his chest, his head knocking back against the couch with a thud, not that he notices. âFuuuck, yesâthatâs it, just like that.â
His hands fist the fabric of the couch on either side of his hips, knuckles white, like heâs fighting not to grab you and take over. But he doesnât, he lets you work him, hips jerking up in shallow thrusts to meet your rhythm, the tip bumping your palm on every upstroke.
âKeep going, tighter⌠shit, youâre killing me here.â
The power rush hits you harder now, watching him come undone under your touch. His cock feels massive in your hand, thick and veined, pulsing hotly as you pump from base to tip, thumb swiping over the slit to collect more precum and spread it down. You can feel every ridge, every twitch, and itâs nothing like the vague fantasies youâd spun about Geto. This is real, messy, and way more intense. Your own arousal builds, thighs pressing together as you grind subtly against nothing, the heat between your legs turning insistent.
âDoes it⌠feel good?â You ask, voice breathy and you slow your strokes just to tease, squeezing the base and watching in awe as a fresh bead of precum pearl at the head.
He cracks one eye open, gaze hazy and dark, lips parted in a pant. âGood? Sweets, donât sell yourself short.â
A grin tugs at his mouth but it falters into a groan when you resume, faster now, the wet schlick of your hand echoing in the room causing you to squirm.
âDonât stop,â he all but whines. âGonna cum if you keep this up. Want me to, sweets? Want me to paint your hand or what?â
The crudeness should turn you off, but it doesnât, it only amps up the thrill, making you bold. You nod, biting your lip as you lean closer, free hand bracing on his chest to feel his heart hammering.
âYeah, do it. cum for me.â
Gojoâs control snaps like a rubber band. his moans pitch higher, body arching as his cock swells in your grip, veins bulging. âFuckâfuck, canât help it, Iâm gonnaââ
He bucks hard once, twice, and then heâs erupting, thick spurts of cum shooting from the tip to splatter your fingers, his stomach, even a streak across his abs. It's hot, sticky, rope after rope as you milk him through it, not knowing what else to do. You slow your strokes until heâs spent, twitching sensitively in your palm.Â
He slumps back, chest rising and falling like he ran a marathon, a lazy, disbelieving laugh bubbling out. He runs a hand down his face, groaning softly.
âI amâŚâ He lets out another breathless laugh, head dropping back against the armrest of the couch. âSo fucking washed. What the hell was that, sweets?â
You blink, a little dazed yourself. Your hand is still loosely wrapped around him, slick and messy, and only when his eyes flick down do you jolt and snatch your hand back like youâve been burnt.
âIâI donât know,â you mumble, gratefully accepting the tissue he hands you, awkwardly deciding to dab at his stomach and abs too, anywhere your eyes can safely land that isnât his softening cock. âThat was⌠hey, wait a minute. Shouldnât i be asking you? What the hell was that spitting thing?â
He shrugs, your body moving with the motion as you remain on his lap. âI told you, thereâs some things some guys like and some donât. As a note of reference, maybe donât spit on Suguru. Youâll kill his ego.â
He has the audacity to smirk at the thought considering the state of him, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, mouth pink and kiss-swollen from all the swearing and groaning.
âYou're disgusting,â you accuse weakly, trying not to think about how heâd looked under you a few seconds ago, jaw slack, eyes glazed, like youâd wrung the soul out of him.
âMmm.â His gaze drags over your face, down the line of your throat, lingering a beat too long at your chest before he drags it back up. âSo, how are you feeling after all that?â
âEmbarrassed,â you say immediately.
âBut kinda turned on, too?â he guesses, just as fast.
Your mouth drops open. âI did not say that.â
âDonât have to,â he says, maddening. âYouâre still sitting on me, you know.â
You freeze. You're still straddling his lap, knees planted on either side of his thighs on the couch, hips pressed to his, fingers bunched at his stomach. You'd be so focused on that scrunched up look on his face when he came that you kind of forgot to be mortified about the position.
Now you remember.
âI was busy,â you mutter, shifting like youâre about to climb off.
His hands come up automatically, one at your waist, one braced at your hip, holding you there without quite pulling you back down. âHey, hey. I didn't say you had to move.â
âBut youâre allâŚâ you wave a hand vaguely at his lap, face burning. âPost-nut clarity or whatever. You should be resting or something.â
âThatâs hilarious, do you think Iâm an old man?â He huffs a laugh. âIf my stamina lasted one puny handjob I would never show my face anywhere. Hey, donât glare at me like that. you know what that does to me. you glaring at me and spitting on my cock while you jerk me offâfuck.â
âDon't say it like that,â you hiss, heat flooding your chest. âYou literally told me to.â
âAnd you did so good,â he croons. âLook at you, all flustered now. You were seconds away from calling me pathetic, you know.â
âHow are you turning this on me? Youâre the one that liked it,â you shoot back, shoulder tensing.
His fingers flex at your waist, like heâs remembering it. âYeah. I really, really did.â
The way he says it sends a tiny shiver through you. You feel ridiculously aware of yourself suddenly, of your damp palms on his chest, of the way your thighs are pressed around him, of the restless thrum under your skin youâve been trying not to notice since he first groaned for you.
You shift again, intending to put some space between you, and hiss as the movement drags you a little too firmly against him, sparking through the ache low in your belly.
You go very still and so does he.
His eyes flicker, dropping for a fraction of a second to the point where your hips meet his. You can feel the change in him, no longer wrecked and loose-limbed, but sharpened like heâs honing in on every tiny flinch.
âOh,â he says softly. âFeeling something, sweets?â
âDonât start,â you warn, feeling every urge to catapult yourself off his lap. His hand tightens on your waist, thumbs rubbing absent circles, maddeningly casual. âCan you let me go already?â
âBut itâs not over yet, are you sure you want to miss the best part? If I said I wanted to make it your turn, would you say no?â
The question hangs between you, heavier than his usual teasing.
âThis isnât⌠about that.â
âSure it is,â he whispers, lips curved into a wicked grin. âYou wanna learn how to make a guy feel good right? Then you also need to know what you like. If you know what works for you, itâs easier to tell him what works for him.â
Has Gojo always been so reasonable?
âBesides,â he continues when youâre not rushing to sign up to his touch. âIâm being selfless here. You canât seriously think I'd let you walk out of here without repaying the favour first, right?â
âWay to sound like a douche.â You swat at his chest, a weak attempt to appear levelheaded.
âHow else am I supposed to say it?â He laughs softly, catching your wrist but not pushing it away, thumb stroking over your pulse. âI want to touch you. properly. Can I?â
Your stomach swoops.
âJust to know what it feels like?â
âExactly.â His smile goes crooked at the edges. âNow youâre getting it.â
You stare at him, breathing shallow. Your heart is thudding way too fast. youâre hyperaware of your own body again, of the way your panties stick uncomfortably, of the restless ache thatâs only been getting worse, of how easy it would be to fall into his tempting embrace.
âHey, come back to me,â Gojo murmurs. âWe don't have to do anything you donât want. I promise I'm not a dick. So? What do you want, sweets?â
You look down at where his hands rest, big and warm on your hips, fingers flexing like heâs trying very hard to stay put.
You could say no, you know that. He'd let you hop off, probably make a dumb joke to break the tension, and the both of you can go back to pretending the constant physical touch is driving you up the wall. But you also know your legs are still a little unsteady, and that every time you shift you have to bite back a sound you really donât want him to hear.
You swallow, hard.
âYou have to listen,â you say finally. âIf I say stop, you stop. and none of your stupid comments either.â
His expression sobers instantly, hands jumping a little at your hips. âPromise. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.â
âIâm telling you, when you say shit like that, everything goes back inside.â
âYeah, yeah, I get it, you want me quiet. So can I touch you or are you going to keep torturing us both?â
âYou deserve the torture,â you grumble, then quieter, âBut, yeah. okay.â
He hums. âNot good enough. Say it again?â
You bite back a complaint. âI want you toâŚtouch me.â
It comes out barely more than a whisper, but it hits him like a truck. His eyes darken, lashes lowering as he sucks in a breath. One moment youâre straddling him, the next heâs sat up and turned you around so your back leans against his chest, his breath tickling your neck.
âYou donât know what you do to me,â he groans, hands sliding down to your stomach. His fingers play with the hem, nails barely grazing your bare skin. âCan I?â
You shiver, looking down to watch his hands with anticipation. Swallowing, you brace yourself and nod.
âGood girl,â he breathes.
His hand trails under your shirt, fingertips tracing nonsense shapes on your skin. He doesnât go straight where you know youâre aching for him to go. Instead, he takes his time, mapping out the sensitive spots he finds, where your muscles jump when he squeezes, lowering his hand to where your breath stutters when he drags his knuckles along the inside of your thigh.
âYou're wound so tight,â he murmurs, half to himself. âRelax for me, Y/N.â
âShut up and stop teasing,â you hiss, and then gasp when his hand finally slips higher, brushing over the edge of your waistband.
âIs that a no?â He asks instantly, stilling.Â
]You want to throttle him. âIâm just⌠nervous.â
âOf course you are,â he says, voice going stupidly soft in your ear, hands playing with the fabric. âThe first timeâs always weird. But it doesnât have to be bad-weird.â
He slowly slips his hand under the band, feeling you go still.
âHey.â He presses his lips to your hair, mumbling soft words of praise. âYou're okay, youâre doing good. Just breathe for me.â
You do, albeit shakily, his fingertips brushing the damp centre of your panties.
âYouâre already⌠Jesus," he says quickly. âI really did a number on you, huh? And without even touching you, too.â
âIf you donât shut up, I'm leaving,â you threaten weakly.
He chuckles, guiding your attention away. Gojo slides your shorts down so you can see exactly where his fingers press against, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks at the sight of his thick fingers prodding against the backdrop of the panties you chose out this morning. If you knew something like this would happen, you would have worn something else.
Gojo thankfully doesnât comment on it. Instead, he slowly explores, no sudden movements, no overwhelming pressure, just the occasional slide against your clit.
âOkay?â he asks, and you realise youâve gone silent, holding your breath again.
âYeah,â you gasp. âJust feel different thanânevermind.â
âDifferent good?â He prompts, thumb pressing down on your clit and you jolt, an audible inhale escaping you.
You feel his arms tighten around you.
âOh, there we go,â he mutters, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself. âThat got you.â
You donât dignify that with an answer, not that you have the capacity to because the next moment, heâs moving his fingers with practiced purpose. His thumb circles your swollen clit through the damp fabric, the barrier muffling any sharp pleasure though it helps you wrap your head around the sensation.
When you start lifting your hips to meet his touch, he knows he has you where he wants you.
With his other fingers, he slowly slides your panties to the sides and touches you directly. The effect is immediate, your eyes snap down to watch, body tensing, want like youâve never known it before shocking you.
The sight of your own arousal makes you wetter and he abandons his touch to touch you directly.
âLook at that,â he coos in your ear, voice breathy with awe and smug satisfaction. âHere you were acting like you wanted to leave when youâre this wet. Thought I wouldn't know, sweets? That I couldn't see you eye my dick all hungry like that?â
He emphasises his words with a harsh pinch of your clit and your head falls back to rest on his shoulders with a filthy moan ripped from your throat, raw and unprocessed.
Gojo takes the chance to kiss your neck.
You should hit him for his words, you really should. But instead, your hand flies up to his forearm, nails digging in when he slides a finger to circle your entrance and the world briefly whites out.
He groans quietly, like your reaction is doing something to him. âThatâsâfuck, youâre so cute. Do that again.â
âDonât tease,â you say again, voice barely there and brain too mushy to think of something original.
And like he knows, Gojo slowly slides a finger into your pussy and the pressure temporarily pushes out all of the pleasure. But then his free hand is playing with your clit and heâs telling you how good you are and how pretty you sound, and it comes back.
He thrusts that finger in and out slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion and when youâre sighing soft moans and broken demands again, he curls it and doesnât stop moving. He could easily overpower you, could pin you down and take, take, take, but he doesnât. Every time you tense like you might pull away, he backs off just enough, murmuring at your ear, though by the time youâre close you havenât panicked in a while.
Heâs the one breathing hard when you start to chase your peak, like heâs the one being touched.
Youâre writhing now, his arms having to tighten around you to keep you still as he slides another finger inside.Â
âThatâs it,â he whispers, panting when your thighs clamp around his hand, head tipped back on his shoulders and eyes starting to roll back. âThere you go. I've got you. Let go for me, yeah? Doing so good for me, sweets.â
âS-Satoru,â you choke out, the name ripped from somewhere deep.
His whole body jolts behind you and you feel a twitch near your ass.
âOh, fuck,â he groans, like youâve done something filthy. âSay my name like that again, I swear to godââ
You donât because suddenly, youâre gone.
His fingers pressed against the spongy spot inside, his thumb circling your clit, and suddenly everything tightens then snaps and youâre tumbling, shaking around the steady anchor of his hand and his arm and his voice in your ear. He doesnât speed up, letting you ride your orgasm on his hand, mumbling sweet nothings against your sweaty neck.
Itâs messy and overwhelming and a little scary for a second, then his palm is flat over your lower stomach, grounding you as waves of sensation roll through your body. His other hand finally gentles and you can breathe again.
When you finally slump back against him boneless, the room feels dimmer. your chest heaves, skin prickling with aftershocks that he guides you through.
He eases his hand away and wipes it on his pants, keeping you steady on his lap.
âHey,â he says softly, lips brushing your hairline. âYou still with me?â
You nod, or at least you try to. âI think so.â
âYeah?â He presses, smiling against your skin.
âYeah.â
âGood.â he exhales like heâs been holding his breath with you. âYou did amazing, sweets.â
âYou're making me sound like a dog.â
âWell, you were very obedient,â he says lightly, then winces. âOkay, that sounded kinda bad.â
He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest where youâre still half-leaning against him. One of his hands comes up, hovering for a second like he isnât sure if touching you again is allowed, then settles gently at your side.
You catch your breath, stealing a glance. His hair is a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes still blown wide but thereâs something softer around the edges, so different from his usual cocky composure that it does something strange to your chest.
âYou're the worst,â you mumble, just to say something.
âOh?â his brows lift. âYou seemed pretty satisfied with the lesson.â
You keep your mouth shut because there is absolutely no winning that argument.
Silence falls, not heavy nor awkward, but certainly unfamiliar. Without the distraction of movement or adrenaline, your mind starts spinning into the consequences of your actions.
And the fact that youâre still sitting between his thighs.
You stiffen and he notices immediately.
âUh. Do you⌠want toââ
âYes,â you say at the exact same time he says, âWe should probablyââ
You both stop, voice overlapping as you tell each other to continue then stop again. Itâs funny if not awkward and you laugh, startled and breathless.
âOkay,â he says, hands lifting slightly in surrender. âYou first.â
âNo, you go,â you insist, scrambling upright a little too fast. The room tilts for half a second and you grab his thigh to steady yourself.
His hands hover again, then settle at your waist just in case.
âCareful,â he murmurs. âYouâre still a little⌠yâknow?â
You straighten and stand away from the couch, legs wobbling in a way you pretend not to notice. The cool air hits your skin and reality comes rushing back in a tidal wave of embarrassment.
Your skirt rests on your thighs but theyâre crumpled, and your hair is surely a mess.
Gojo watches, biting his lip hard enough to leave teeth marks. He stands too, running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking almost shy as he grabs his discarded shirt and pulls it back on.
For a moment, neither of you know where to look.
You fixate on a crack in the wall and he studies the floor.
âDo you, uh⌠want me to walk you back?â
The normalcy of the question feels surreal.
âIâm fine with walking,â you say quickly. âThe weatherâs nice so.â
âYeah,â he nods. âFresh air. Definitely.â
You grab your bag with fumbling hands, nearly knocking it off the couch in the process. He catches it before it hits the floor, fingers brushing yours again as he hands it over.
Neither of you pull away immediately. Then, you both do at the same time.
âRight,â you say.
âRight,â he echoes.
He opens the door for you, peeking into the hallway first before gesturing.
âYou sure you donât want me to walk you back?â
You almost cry at the visual of a way out. âNo, no, I'm fine. Itâs not too far anyway.â
Gojo studies your face like heâs trying to decide whether to argue or not. For once, he doesnât look like heâs in on some big secret. He just looks uncertain.
âIf you say so,â he mutters, stepping aside.
You slip past him into the hallway, letting out a big sigh of relief when you hear the door close gently behind you with a soft click. Looking over your shoulder, you see Gojo follow you out anyway.
Your feet slow. âYou donât have to, I'm really okay.â
âIâm not,â he says quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. âIâm just heading in the same direction. That's all. What a coincidence?â
âUh-huh.â
The staircase is only a few doors down, but the short walk stretches, each step heavy with things unsaid. You can hear voices downstairs, life continuing on, oblivious.
At the top of the stairwell, you stop.
âAre we still going the same way?â
He shakes his head.
âIâll see you around,â you settle on when the silence stretches.
âSee you, Y/N.â
You take one step down, then another. After a third, you glance back.
Gojo is still there, watching. your chest does something uncomfortable as he waits.
âGoodnight, Satoru,â you say softly.
He blinks, like the name catches him off guard every time. Then he smiles, small but warm.
âNight, sweets.â
When you reach the bottom and push out into the night air, it feels shockingly cool against your overheated skin. The campus is quiet, streetlights painting everything gold and shadowed, the distant sound of traffic humming like white noise.
You walk faster than necessary because if you slow down, the thoughts will quickly flood in. And if you start thinking, you might realise that somewhere between asking him for help and leaving his room tonight, something has gone very, very wrong.Â
Youâre not sure why you care so much.Â
You tell yourself itâs because Geto will be there, because this is a chance to make a real impression, because this is what all of it has been building toward. But as you stand in front of your mirror, turning this way and that, smoothing imaginary wrinkles, adjusting your hair for the third time, checking your reflection from angles no one in real life would ever see, you realise this isnât normal.Â
Youâve never put this much thought into a âcasualâ outing before.Â
Not the outfit, carefully balanced between cute and effortless, like you didnât spend forty minutes deciding between two nearly identical tops just for the jersey to cover it anyway. Not the makeup, soft enough to look natural, deliberate enough to feel like armor. Not the way your stomach flips every time you picture stepping into the arena.Â
You know deep down this isnât about Geto. That thought alone makes your chest feel tight.Â
You grab your purse before you can overthink it further and leave.Â
When you walk into the arena, the roar of the crowd hits you like a physical force, loud and electric, buzzing with anticipation and cheer. It bleeds through the concrete walls, through your bones, and through the floor beneath your shoes.Â
The game hasnât officially started yet, you made sure to come before then, but the energy is already at a fever pitch.
Your eyes sweep the rink automatically, searching. And you spot him immediately.Â
Gojo, in his navy and white jersey, skates across the ice like it belongs to him, like the rink exists solely to accommodate his momentum. It doesn't seem to matter that his helmet obscures most of his face, youâd recognise him anywhere. the easy confidence in the way he moves, the loose, effortless posture, the casual speed that looks like he isnât even tryingâitâs unmistakable.Â
His hair, damp under his helmet, peeks out in soft white tufts. His cheeks are slightly flushed from exertion, breath fogging faintly in the cold air as he glides past teammates, exchanging easy shoves and taps of sticks. He's the easiest person in the world to look at and the hardest to look away from.Â
He glances up towards the stands during warm-ups, scanning lazily, and your heart stutters. You freeze, suddenly aware of yourself, of the crowd, of how ridiculous it is to hope heâll notice you among hundreds of people wearing the same colours.Â
I mean, all these people? All wearing the team jersey? And you wouldnât call yourself beautiful, not in the kind of way that makes someone stand out across a packed arena, and certainly not in a way that draws eyes automatically, notâ
Gojo turns a little more. and then his eyes meet yours.Â
The jolt is instantaneous, sharp and electric, like touching a live wire. Your breath catches, lungs forgetting their purpose entirely as a stupid, bright grin spreads across his face.Â
A strange warmth floods your chest, blooming outward until it feels too big to contain. You bite your lip, trying and failing, to suppress your own giddy smile as you tug lightly at the hem of your jersey, lifting it just enough to show the number at the front and point at it.Â
06.Â
If it's even possible, his grin widens. He spins around without hesitation, and easily mind you, skating backward for a few seconds just to show off the back of his own jersey, jabbing a glove thumb at the matching number with pride.Â
Heat rushes to your face.Â
It's ridiculous, childish even, but your heart is pounding and the warmth in your chest swells until itâs almost overwhelming.Â
When warm-ups end, he lifts his stick in your direction in one last, unmistakable acknowledgement before skating toward the bench, where his teammates swarm him instantly. One of them hooks an arm around his neck, dragging him down while another plays bongos on his helmet, elbows digging into his ribs.Â
From this distance you canât hear what theyâre saying, but you donât need to. His expression gives everything away, the wide grin and mock protests, and the way he shoves them back half-heartedly while still laughing.Â
Someone whistles, another bumps his shoulder and one even points toward the stands, toward you. Your stomach flips.Â
âY/N?âÂ
You start, tearing your eyes away as if caught doing something incriminating. Geto stands beside you, already holding two drinks, his expression warm and easy.Â
âHey,â he says, offering you one. âYou made it. I found seats over here, itâs a pretty good view, if I donât say so myself. We should head over before the game starts.âÂ
You take the cup automatically, fingers brushing his. âThanks!â
He smiles, guiding you through the rows of people with gentle awareness, making space and steadying you when someone brushes past too close. It's thoughtful and careful and exactly the kind of thing that made you fall for him in the first place.Â
Once seated, conversation comes easily to him. Itâs all polite small talk and soft jokes, quiet observations about the team and season. He fills in the silence like Gojo had predicted, never letting it become uncomfortable. He does all the right things that you could almost tick them off a list. He laughs at your comments like theyâre genuinely funny and asks questions that make it clear heâs paying attention.Â
It should be perfect, it should be everything youâve ever wanted.Â
And yet, your eyes drift back to the rink, to the flashes of navy and white.Â
To the tall figure leaning against the boards, helmet off now, shaking his hair as he listens to a coach, nodding absentmindedly while his gaze flicks upward.Â
Your pulse jumps when his eyes land on you again. Except this time he doesnât grin. It might be your imagination but he seemingly looks to Geto beside you, then back, just watching.Â
You force yourself to look back at Geto, nodding at something he just said, hoping your smile looks natural and not strained.Â
BUZZWORD
The game starts fast.Â
Faster than you expected, faster than anything youâve watched on TV, faster than seems physically possible for men balancing on thin blades over frozen water. The pluck drops and suddenly the rink explodes with motion, bodies colliding, sticks clashing, skates carving violent crescents into the ice.Â
You lost track of the puck almost immediately.
Geto leans closer, voice raised just enough to carry over the roar of the crowd. âWatch Satoru, he plays center so heâll usually be in there.â
Your eyes find him easily.Â
He moves differently from everyone else, you see, loose, flashier, or maybe thatâs just you. No, you reject that notion as he accelerates in bursts, gliding between players with impossible precision, stick tapping the ice impatiently when he doesnât have the puck.Â
Every time he skates past your side of the rink, your chest tightens and your throat hurts a little more as you try to cheer louder.Â
The first goal goes to the other team.Â
Your side of the arena groans as one, a wave of disappointment that rattles through the stands. You feel it too, a sinking drop in your stomach, though you donât fully understand the play that led to it.Â
Gojo slams his stick once against the ice in frustration, then shoves off hard, jaw set.Â
Geto doesnât seem worried. âTheyâll bounce back. Satoru is the best they have, after all.â
Just like he predicted, they do. Midway through the second period, one of Gojoâs teammates manages to slip the puck past the goalie, and the building detonates. People surge to their feet to cheer and you find yourself in that crowd, cheering without thinking, adrenaline crackling through your veins like you personally contributed.Â
On the ice, Gojo grabs the scorer by the shoulders and shakes him, helmet bumping into helmet, grin blinding even through the cage.Â
Itâs a tie game until itâs not. Another goal to the opposing side which Gojoâs team equalising moments after. Again and again, a tense back and forth that even has Geto inhaling sharply at moments.Â
By the third period, your nails are dug into the flimsy paper cup in your hand, ice long melted into a yucky watered down version of whatever was in the drink. You barely notice when Geto takes it from you and sets it aside so you donât crush it completely.Â
The scoreboard reads 3-3 and the clock tells you thereâs two minutes left.Â
The noise is deafening now, frantic and desperate, every movement on the ice met with gasps or shouts.Â
Gojo has long since lost the playful edge from earlier. He circles near centre ice, knees bent, weight forward, eyes tracking the puck like itâs the only thing that exists in the world. A defender tries to box him out and he shrugs him off with a brutal shoulder check that makes the crowd howl.Â
The puck slides loose along the boards, ricocheting off a tangle of skates and sticks like it has a mind of its own. Someone on Gojoâs team snatches it first and fires it forward, a risky pass that slides clean across open ice, and towards him.Â
Gojo receives it in stride, blade cushioning the impact with effortless control. He doesnât even glance down. his head is already up, scanning his way forward. A defender lunges for him and he slips past with a sharp pivot, hips twisting, edges biting deep into the ice.Â
Youâre on your feet before you realise youâve moved.Â
âGoâ!â you scream and like a domino effect, people around you start to cheer.Â
Gojo fakes a left. The goalie commits.Â
He snaps right, dragging the puck across his body in one powerful motion, forcing the goalie to witness the outplay. And then he flicks his wrist and a sharp crack echoes across the rink.Â
The puck lifts, a black blur slicing through air, threading the narrowest gap between glove and shoulder, and slams into the back of the net.Â
For half a heartbeat, there is silence. Then the buzzer screams and the crowd erupts.Â
Sound crashes over you in a tidal wave, screaming, stomping, clapping, the metallic rattle of the stands shaking under hundreds of pounding feet. Youâre shouting too, throat tearing with it, hands flying to your mouth before dropping again because you need them free to clap and wave, anything to release all this energy exploding out of you.Â
Down on the ice, Gojo throws his head back and roars, pure exhilaration bursting out of him. His teammates collide with him seconds later, swarming him in a pile of navy and white, shoving his helmet and grabbing his shoulders, almost knocking him over in their celebration.Â
He's laughing.Â
Even through the cage, from the distance, you can see it, the wild brightness in his eyes and the way his chest heaves with adrenaline.Â
They won.Â
They actually won.Â
Youâre bouncing on your toes without realising, hands clasped in front of your mouth.Â
Gojo breaks free from the pile just enough to turn and look up into the stands. It's easier finding you this time around when he knows where to look.Â
His whole face lights up, grin splitting wide and unrestrained, so bright it feels like it could blind you, he lifts his stick and points it straight at you then thumps it once against the ice in a triumphant salute.Â
Your stomach swoops violently.Â
You laugh, breathless and giddy, lifting both hands to wave back like an idiot. Your body is already leaning forward, feet shifting as instinct screams for you to move. To go down there, to be closer, to meet him at the glass while heâs still glowing with victory looking as beautiful as youâve ever seen him, so alive that it radiates off him in waves.Â
You want to throw your arms around his neck.Â
You want to tell him that was incredible.Â
You wantâ
âY/N?â
Getoâs voice cuts gently through the chaos, close to your ear.
You blink, tearing your gaze away from the ice to find him watching you with a small, amused smile.Â
âThat was intense,â he says, laughter in his voice. âI forgot how crazy these games get at the end. Makes you glad you came, right?â
âYeah,â you breathe, though it comes out shaky and raw from all the cheering. âYeah it was. Definitely.â
Your eyes flick down despite yourself and find Gojo still looking up, smile dimmed.Â
Geto gestures toward the aisle. âIf we leave now, we can beat the post-game crowd. The bookstoreâs only a short walk away anyway. We can find Satoru after he comes out.âÂ
The words land heavy in your chest. How could you forget? There was a plan in action, the reason why you came, the person youâre supposed to be focusing on.Â
âRight,â you say, though your voice sounds far away even to your own ears.Â
On the ice, Gojoâs teammates are tugging him toward the bench, shouting in his ear and shoving him here and there. He goes easily enough, though not without one last glance at you. He tilts his chin, a silent question in your eyes, clear despite the distance.Â
Are you going?
Your fingers curl into fists at your side.Â
âReady?â Geto asks softly.
You swallow. â... yeah.â
But as you turn to follow him up the aisle, the roar of the arena swelling behind you, you canât shake that youâve made the wrong decision. You feel it, that strange, electric thread stretching thinner and thinner behind you as the tunnel swallows Gojo whole.Â
BUZZWORD
It should be fun.Â
Geto is easy to talk to, heâs polite, thoughtful and gentle, and all the right things. You trail behind him between the shelves as he talks about a book he likes, or some theory he discovered that explains so much and makes so much sense.Â
You try, you really do. You nod your head and attempt to store that information away. Â
But everything just doesnât feel right. It's hard to store that information away when your head is full of that look Gojo had given you, the way his white hair had stuck out from under his helmet, damp from the effort and glory of winning, eyes sparkling under the stadium lights, the way he had lifted his stick to point at you.Â
Geto is kind. But your tastes donât match. Your jokes land in different places. He's nice, and you do enjoy his conversation. But not in the same way you had enjoyed Gojoâs company that day in the cafe.Â
You donât feel nervous. You donât feel excited. Honestly, you just feel like pretending.Â
And as if the universe is screaming at you about something just beyond your grasp, when you reach for the same book, your fingers donât brush. And you donât want them to.Â
Getoâs phone buzzes when heâs in the middle of explaining some theories from this guy called Slavoj Zizek? He winces at whatever he reads.Â
âSorry,â he starts, sounding genuinely apologetic. âI need to head out. But hey, hereââ He pulls a paperback off the shelf and hands it to you. âThis is the one I was talking about. I think youâll like it.âÂ
you accept it automatically. âThanks,â you say, and then heâs waving and gone the next moment, door swinging behind him.Â
For a while, you wander the bookstore in an attempt to rationalise the complex emotions warring inside you. Geto is your crush. You know this. And yet, it all feels so superficial. Gojo had been right, there was nothing personal about the things you liked about him to explain the crush.Â
You stand in the quiet of the aisle, holding a book you frankly donât care about, surrounded by a silence that feels like the wrong choice made tangible long after the last customer walks out. Heavy rain falls outside, pelting against the roof of the store, a steady white noise that backgrounds your thoughts.Â
When the bookstore begins to close, youâre ushered outside. You swear as youâre suddenly caught in the harsh weather and through the heavy sheets of rain, there looks to be no other store open. Hastily, you run out in the rain to find some place where you can get cover over your head. Finally, you see a small awning from a closed shop.Â
You run under the awning, hugging your arms to your chest as you wait out the storm, feeling stupidly alone and stupidly unsure why youâre this upset. This is what you wanted right? But the part of your heart that has always known the truth traitorously voices the thoughts youâve been pushing down all this time.Â
Gojo.Â
Through the sheets of heavy rain, someone is running towards you. Tall, white hair, still in his jersey, his hair now damp (read: soaked) with rain water rather than sweat.
He skids under the awning, breathless, terribly drenched, an unopened umbrella in one hand.Â
âWhat the hell,â he says immediately, voice sharp with concern and frustration. âAre you trying to get pneumonia? Why didnât you go home? Didnât you check the weather? It clearly said it was going to rain today!â
You blink, gaping at his sudden presence. âWhat are you, no, why are you here? Shouldnât you be celebrating?â
He snorts. âYeah, I was. Until Suguru texted. Said he left you at the bookstore and for me to pick you up. Seriously, you didnât even bring an umbrella?â
The situation finally catches up to you and you frantically gesture to his own umbrella. âHow can you lecture me when you just ran out all the way here without opening your umbrella? itâs literally in your hands, all you had to do was open it!âÂ
âLike i had the time to! My legs are literally burning from the game and you made me run all this way out to save you!â
âI never asked you to!â
âWell, I had to!â He steps closer, finally freeing himself from the rain completely. His presence fills up the cramped space under the awning and you catch a whiff of cedar and sweat. âI couldnât just let you die out here in the cold!â
Speechless, you open and close your mouth like an idiot. Finally, you manage to ask, âHow did you even know I was out here?â
âWerenât you listening? I told you Suguru told me he ditched you!âÂ
At Getoâs name, your face falls. Ah, right. your little moral dilemma about Geto.Â
Gojo also calms down a little, his chest heaving a little slower as he uses the silence to catch his breath. his eyes scan your expression, picking up on the way you bite your lip, eyes looking away.Â
âHey,â he says, voice soft though still strained. âYou okay?â
Your throat tightens. âI guess? I don't know. Look, sorry. I appreciate you coming.â
âDon't give me that. Just donât. Youâve told me every embarrassing thing about yourself when you outed that you, you know, like Suguru. Donât hide something from me now. Are you upset that he left?â His hand comes out to wipe water off your cheek. âDon't cry.â
You scrunch up your face in mild disgust. âIâm not? That's literally just rain water.â
âOh. So you're okay?â
You inhale and let it out slowly. Were you okay? You shouldnât be, not if Geto was your crush and he just ditched you. And yet, under Satoruâs shadow as he stands in front of you, blocking the rain, brows furrowed and lips pressed tight as he looks you over in concern, you find yourself feeling okay. More than okay.Â
âWhy do you even like him?â He asks, quietly, a question that would have easily been lost to the rain if you werenât hanging off his every word.Â
âI told you,â you start, just as quiet. âHe saved me that one time.âÂ
âYeah?â He opens the umbrella with one hand, and holds your hand in the other, gently guiding you out from under the awning. Rain hits heavy against the fabric and he holds you close to keep you out from the storm, your chest grazing his. âHe saved you that day in the rain, did he?â
You swallow. âYeah.â
âJust like this?âÂ
Mutely, you nod. In his arms, you barely notice the slight chill.Â
Gojo searches your eyes for something. He exhales, long and uneven, like heâs been holding this in for longer than heâs willing to admit. And yet, he doesnât shy away, doesnât tear his gaze away from yours, just keeps holding the umbrella over your head, tilted ever so slightly in your direction such that youâre completely covered.Â
âThat day,â he says, quiet but steady, âWhen you got caught in the rain after that stupid orientation thing? Suguru wasnât on campus. He went back home for a month before the semester started and didnât come back until the second week. I was the one that found you.âÂ
Your breath falters. âWhat? But he⌠he gave me his hoodie. His name was on the tag.âÂ
âYeah,â Satoru laughs, a single disbelieving puff. âI was wearing his hoodie. He wasnât at the dorms so I stole some of his clothes to wear. Itâs whatever, he steals some of mine sometimes. The point is, I was the one that helped you.âÂ
For a moment, you stop breathing entirely. The rain pours around the two of you, a curtain of noise, but itâs silent under the umbrella.Â
Youâve never seen Gojo so nervous. Definitely not before the big game earlier, not on any of the practice dates, never when he talks to a group of people. Between the two of you, nervousness came more naturally to you. And yet, standing before you vulnerable, wet lashes stuck together, cheeks flushed from running and is that a faint bruise forming on his jaw? He looks nervous and itâs a sight that sends warmth all over your face.Â
His eyes are unbearably soft as he waits for your verdict.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Your voice sounds too small.Â
âBecause you thought it was Suguru. Because you liked him. And back then, I didn't realise that I wanted you to know it was me.â
Your heart thuds, something a little more daring saying the next few words for you. âAnd now?âÂ
This moment was perfect. The two of you had been slowly closing that small gap of distance, eyes seeing nothing but each other and suddenly all those rom coms and kdramas come to mind. All those scenes of first kisses (forgetting the practices because those didnât include real romance), all those late night conversations with Shoko about what itâs like, they all come and leave your brain.Â
But instead of leaning in and sealing the deal, Gojoâs entire body suddenly stiffens. His arm around you loosens, placing more distance between the two of you.Â
What the hell?Â
His gaze drops a little further before coming back up with a discipline that can only come from reciting the digimon opening theme over and over in his head. âNow I'm trying really, really hard not to stare at you.â
Curious, you look down to your soaked shirt where the fabric clings painfully close, embarrassingly sheer. It only serves to emphasise the lines of your bra and though you canât really see anything, Gojoâs face is flushed pink not just from exertion, and his jaw is tight.Â
âSatoruââ
âMy place,â he blurts. âWe should, uh, get you warmed up. Your shirt is literally see-through and if I have to keep pretending I don't notice, I'm going to walk myself right into traffic.âÂ
âThat is so dramatic.â The beginnings of a smile cause the corner of your lips to quiver upwards at his flustered state.Â
âiâm dramatic,â he insists, voice strained, still not looking. âNow come on. I still donât want you catching pneumonia out here and Sig Kap is literally right near the gate. We can keep talking there when you donât look like a puppy left out in the rain.â
âSays you.â You eye his white hair plastered to his forehead and smile, reaching up to move a few clinging strands from his eyes. âBut okay. Iâd like that a lot.â
Unfortunately, the gesture makes him look back down at you, inevitably making him catch an eyeful of your chest. He closes his eyes. âLet's just go before I give you this umbrella and walk onto the road.âÂ
You laugh a little. âGeez, you really are dramatic.âÂ
He walks you to Sig Kap, refusing to stand fully under the umbrella. When you try to grab his arm and pull him under, he only launches into a talk about being a feminist and how chivalry isnât dead and how much he hates periods and loves matcha. You laugh and he smiles down at you before looking away. Seriously, he needs to get over that.Â
At the door outside the house, Gojo stops you.Â
âHere.â he hands you the umbrella, fingers brushing yours, before reaching down to take his jersey off. You instinctively blush and look away, but considering your state of undress it would only be fair if you stole a glance. So you peek at him from the corner of your eyes.Â
You only manage to look just below his abs when something warm and slightly damp flops over your head.Â
âHey!â
He takes the umbrella back from you, standing in front of you and covering your back with the umbrella.. âPut that on before we head inside. Take your wet jersey off, hurry.â
Feeling warm despite the rain, you hastily pull off your soaked top, making sure heâs looking politely away, and throw his jersey on. Itâs still damp but not as drenched as your own. Looking down, it falls past your skirt and just above your knees.Â
âYouâre going to walk in shirtless?â
âBetter than you walking in looking like that.â He doesnât give you a moment to think about his words. âCome on, youâre going to catch a cold.â
He leads you to the now familiar front door and when it opens before Gojo can even touch the doorknob, you understand the reasoning of his actions.Â
âDude!â Hikari cheers, wrapping an arm round Gojoâs shoulders and eagerly pulling him in despite his grunt of protest. âCongrats on the win, man!â
Hikari quickly notices your presence.Â
âOh. So youâre already celebrating, huh?â
Gojo brushes past him, his hand holding tours to guide a path through the sweaty frat boys. âShut it, Hikari. Is Sukuna in?â
âNah. The whole floorâs gone.â Hikari answers, raising his voice as Gojo quickly places distance between him and you.Â
When the door of his room closes behind you both, he turns and pulls you in, his hand falling down on your hips, pulling you close. You both look like wet dogs but you couldnât care less.
âSorry about them,â he mumbles against your hair.Â
âItâs fine,â you pause. âWho's Sukuna?â
âThe guy in the room next to mine.â
âOh.â
He hesitates, searching your eyes in the dark of his room. The storm rages on beyond his window, rain entering through a slightly ajar window, but neither of you make the responsible move to close it. Instead, you find yourself pressing up against him, hoping for more.Â
âSweets,â he says, his voice low. âPlease donât tell me this is still practice.â
âItâs not.âÂ
He takes a deep breath in. âYou piss me off. Youâre annoying, and insistent, and you always get what you want.â
You frown a little. âHold on, I thought this was going a different way.â
He shushes you by placing a finger against your lips. âYou never listen to me and you never act how I think you will. Youâre definitely not normal and your thoughts are all weird and messed up. But youâre always in my head and you have the prettiest smile and the softest voice and when you tell me to shut up I want to drop to my knees and lick your feet.â
âOkay, itâs definitely getting weird now.âÂ
âI think Iâm seriously doomed,â he whispers despite your protests. âBecause I bought that coffee you gave me months ago and I still drank it even though I hated how it tasted. And I havenât been able to get it up without thinking about you and those pretty lips.âÂ
âNow I see why you donât do relationships.â
Gojo chuckles, eyes unbearingly soft. âI think Iâm in love with you, Y/N. Youâre all I can think about.âÂ
You let out a slow exhale.Â
This was not how you imagined any of this. That day when you sat down with Shoko to plan a devious scheme to get with Geto, you naturally assumed it would end with him by your side, or with a crippling inability to reassimilate with society.Â
Never in a million years did you think youâd be here, in Gojoâs enormous room inside a frat house, him hanging off your every word.Â
But thinking on it now, thereâs nothing you want to change in your plan.Â
âI think Iâm in love with you too,â you say just as quietly, a smile playing on your lips.Â
âReally?â If he had dog ears, they would have surely perked up. âBecause I was lying, I definitely donât just think that.â
âWoah, letâs calm down a little.â
He chuckles, breath misting your face.Â
His thumbs rub circles and you shiver at the faint sensation.
âCold?â
You bite the lip and nod. Now that youâve confessed, the forbidden desire building up in your core no longer feels like something you need to hide. Instead, you embrace it, and you let Gojo see the change in your eyes.Â
He nods back, looking down at his jersey on you.Â
âYou should probably take this off or youâll get sick.âÂ
You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in just your bra. You mentally fist bump your past self for overthinking your attire earlier that morning and throwing on a matching set.Â
His pupils dilate as he looks at you, eyes lingering on the delicate lace.Â
âAm I moving too fast?â He whispers, breath misting your ear as he leans in.Â
You rapidly shake your head, heart pounding in your chest. The air between you crackles with tension, the rain pattering against the window like a distant drumbeat.Â
He sighs, a low, relieved sound that vibrates through his chest. âGood. Câmere.â
He backs you up against the door, the wood cool against your bare back. His hands slide up your sides as he traps you. The guise of getting you out of wet clothes feels like a thin excuse now, but you donât mind, your own hands already tugging at his waistband, eager to feel more of him.Â
Gojoâs lips crash into yours, hungry and demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim your mouth. You kiss back just as fiercely, fingers digging into his shoulders as you push against him, guiding him backward step by step. He stumbles slightly, surprised by your assertiveness, but a smirk tugs at his lips against yours.Â
He falls onto the couch with a soft thud, pulling you down on top of him. You straddle his lap, only because itâs the only position youâve had experience with thus far, and the friction of his hardening cock against your core sends sparks through your body. Your mouths meet again in a heated makeout, tongues tangling, breaths mingling in short, desperate gasps.Â
His hands roam your back, unhooking your bra with practiced ease, letting it fall away. You arch into him, pressing your bare breasts against his chest, nipples hardening from the contact.Â
âFuck, youâre so hot like this,â he growls, nipping at your lower lip. âWhere were you hiding all of this, hm?â
You shiver, fingers digging into his shirt. âYou like it when I tell you what to do, donât you? Big bad frat boy, already so hard because a girlâs got you pinned.â
He groans, hands gripping your ass to grind you against him. âKeep talking like that, and I'll show you whoâs really in control.â
But you donât stop. Instead, you push him back further into the cushions and trail your lips down his jaw, his neck, biting lightly to mark him. He lets you, for now, his breath hitching.Â
His eyes look down your body, hands feeling the softness of your skin before resting at the waistband of your cute, little skirt. He smirks and before you know it, youâre torn from his neck because he flips you onto your back in one swift move, pinning your wrists above your head.Â
âMy turn,â he purrs, voice rough.Â
You try to wriggle free. âWhat are you doing?â
âYou've always had a thing against my tongue, havenât you?â
âThat was weeks ago, I don'tâwait a minute!â Your hands find his head, trying to push him back up but he refuses, settling properly between your legs and lowering.Â
âRelax.â He turns his head and kisses your palm, eyes on yours. âI'll make you feel good. I always do, don't I?â
You hesitate, your arms losing their strength as the tension eases from your body. He watches you carefully, his gaze soft yet intense, making sure youâre okay before he moves. With a gentle nod from you, he lifts the edge of your skirt and flips it up onto your stomach, groaning low at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.
âSo cute,â he hums, his free hand sliding between your legs to rub at the numb poking out through the fabric. âThis little clitâs begging for attention.âÂ
You let out a startled gasp, hips bucking up involuntarily at the sudden touch. Itâs all still so new, the sparks of pleasure shooting through you like electricity.Â
âYou want my mouth on this pretty pussy, donât you?â He murmurs, lowering to mouth against your panties.Â
His warm breath seeps through the thin material, and the flat of his tongue presses against you, exploring with teasing pressure thatâs not quite enough to satisfy the ache building inside.Â
You jolt again, the sensation overwhelming, back bowing slightly as if to instinctively pull away. He doesnât let you go far, his hand on your thigh tightening to pull you back against his mouth.Â
âI know, I know,â he coos against you. âIt's too much, isnât it?â
You whimper, looking down and feeling a fresh surge of heat when you meet eyes with him.Â
âThatâs it, just feel it,â he encourages, his thumb stroking your thigh in slow circles.Â
Finally, he draws your panties to the side and doesnât waste another second.Â
Gojoâs mouth descends on your pussy, tongue flicking out to lap at your clit.Â
You gasp sharply, hips bucking up as he sucks the sensitive nub between his lips, rolling it gently. His hands hold your thighs apart, fingers digging into your skin to keep you open for him. He eats you out like heâs starved, tongue delving inside you, tasting your wetness then circling back to your clit with firm, insistent strokes.Â
âOh god,â you choke out, the words tumbling from your lips in a breathless rush. âFuck, itâs tooâfuck itâs so good!âÂ
With your hands free, you curl your fingers in his soft white hair, guiding him exactly where the pleasure feels strongest. It's your first time feeling anything like this, and the intensity builds fast, a coiling heat thatâs overwhelming but addictive.Â
He hums against you, the vibrations making you whine as his tongue thrusts in and out, mimicking whatâs to come, stretching you open with wet, probing motions.
âMmm, taste so fucking sweet,â he growls between licks, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your folds. âYouâre clenching so hard alreadyâgonna finger fuck you open so you can take my cock later.â
He adds a finger, sliding it inside your slick heat slowly, curling it to brush against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. âThat's it baby, feel how wet you are for me? so tight around my finger, imagine how youâll squeeze my dick when I'm buried deep.â
You nod frantically, the haze of pleasure making it hard to form words.Â
He senses your building release, slipping a second finger inside to stretch you further, scissoring them gently to prepare you while his mouth latches back on your clit, sucking harder. âCome on, cum for meâwanna taste you so fucking bad, sweets. I want to feel you shake.â
The orgasm hits you like a wave, crashing over your body without warning. you cry out, back arching off the surface beneath you as your pussy clenches around his fingers, pulsing with release. He doesnât stop, lapping at you through it, drawing out every shudder until youâre boneless and gasping for air, his tongue coaxing every last tremor from your oversensitive folds.Â
Gojo pulls back slowly, a string of saliva still connecting to you until he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he crawls up your body.Â
âFuck, you taste like heaven,â he murmurs, leaning in for a deep kiss and letting you taste yourself on his lips.Â
You kiss back weakly making him chuckle, and he pulls back with a wet chu.Â
âYou okay?â
You nod weakly. One moment youâre catching your breath on the couch, the next heâs lifting you over his shoulder and laying you down on his bed.Â
You yelp, feeling gravity turn on its head until youâre safely on his mattress.Â
Watching as he eagerly strips, you say, âYou got a bedframe.â
He grins widely, shimmying down his boxers to join his sweatpants on the floor. âYeah, I did. Do you like it?â
You huff. âYeah. About time, Satoru.â
Gojoâs smile is oddly bright as he gets on the bed and hovers over you. He shifts, propping himself up on his elbows, his blue eyes darkening as they fixate on your chest. Without a word, he moves down, his mouth hovering just above your skin before he presses his face into the soft valley of your tits, inhaling deeply as if savouring your scent.Â
âGod, I love these things.â he groans, voice muffled, his lips brushing the sensitive underside. âSo goddamn perfect. Feel how hard you make me just staring at them?â
You squirm, indeed feeling his cock throb against your leg. âYouâre such an animal.â
âI can't help it. Been thinking about these ever since last time.â He peeks up at you though heâs still hesitant to part with them completely. âCan i fuck them?â
Your nod is all the consent he craves. He straddles your waist carefully and guides his thick length to rest in the plush channel youâve created by pressing your breasts together. The first slide is torturously slow, the velvety skin enveloping him as he rocks forward, the tip emerging shiny with precum near your collarbone.Â
âShit, yes,â he hisses, hips snapping in a shallow rhythm. âSo soft, so fucking warm around me. Look at that, sweets. Your tits are hugging my dick like they were made for it.â
His voice drops lower, rough with building pleasure, each word punctuated by the slick glide of skin on skin.Â
You watch him, mesmerised by the concentration etching his features, brow furrowed, lips parted as he pants. Sweat beads on his forehead and trickles down his temples as his abs flex with every controlled push. The friction builds between your tits, his precum smearing across your skin, making the slide even smoother and more obscene.Â
He glances down to watch his cock disappear and poke out from your cleavage. âOpen your mouth for me, baby.â
âSweets,â you remind him.Â
He lets out a stifled groan, hips jerking forward. âSweets, please. Let me see your pretty tongue. Want it on my tip when i come through so fucking bad.âÂ
The nickname sends a thrill through you, and you part your lips obediently, flattening your tongue in invitation. He groans at the sight, hips stuttering as he angles higher, the flushed head of his cock brushing your waiting mouth on the next thrust.Â
âFuck, just like that,â he rasps. âYour tongue feels so good lapping at me like that. Swirl it around, taste how much I want you. God, sweets, youâre killing me.âÂ
You do, tracing the sensitive underside when he pushes forward, the salty tang of him flooding your senses. His reaction is immediate, a deep, guttural moan escapes him, his rhythm faltering as he jerks deeper, chasing the wet heat of your mouth.Â
âCan't get enough,â he growls, drawing back only to thrust again, his tip kissing your tongue with deliberate precision and drawing back a sticky string of his precum and your saliva. âGonna fuck your mouth next, stuff it full of my cock until youâre choking on it. You'd take it so well, wouldnât you? Suck me down like the greedy little thing you are.âÂ
Saliva pools on your tongue and drips down to mix with the mess on your chest. He watches it all with hooded eyes, rutting faster now, the slap of his hips against your breasts echoing softly in the room.Â
âFuck, sweetsâgonna cum,â he warns through gritted teeth, his forehead creasing in that pretty, desperate way. âCanât hold back with you squeezing me like this. Shit, iâm gonna paint you, mark every inch of these pretty tits.â
He lurches forward suddenly, back bowing as he towers over you, one hand bracing beside your head while the other strokes his base to control his release. The first hot spurt lands across your neck, thick and warm, followed by another that arches toward your open mouth. He aims with a focused groan, pressing down on the head to guide it, ropes of cum landing on your tongue, filling your senses with his taste.Â
âTake it, thatâs a good girl,â he pants, voice breaking on a final, shuddering thrust. âLook at you, covered in me. So fucking hot, dripping with my cum on your face and tits.âÂ
His body quakes through the aftershocks, eyes never leaving yours, drinking in your reaction as he milks every drop onto you.Â
When heâs spent, he collapses forward slightly, catching himself on his forearms to avoid crushing you and leans down.Â
Your lips meet his in a deep, unhurried kiss, tongues tangling slow and sweet at first, then hungrier as you melt into it. The taste of him, salty from earlier, mixed with the faint tang of your own arousal, ignites you, and you tug him down, hands roaming his shoulders, feeling the flex of muscle under sweat damp skin. A soft moan escapes you, and he swallows it, his grip tightening just a fraction.Â
He pulls back and pants against your lips, half laughing.Â
âSorry, I should have warned you. Kind of not the most virgin friendly thing to do, huh?â He sits up and reaches for some tissue to clean you. âShould of saved this for inside you, sweets.â
You clench, squeezing your thighs together. âIâve neverâŚâ
His eyes soften, wiping the last of his cum. âI know, sweets. We can wait if you need to, thereâs no rush.â
But curiousity and want is a dangerous cocktail and you find yourself shaking your head. âI want to.âÂ
Gojo lets out a shuddering breath and nods, sliding off your chest, his cock glistening and heavy against his thigh. âLet me get you warmed up again.â
He doesn't find much difficulty with that because one hand against your slit and his eyebrows are rising, feeling your wetness despite the lack of attention.Â
You blush, feeling caught. âWhat? Donât look at me like that, itâs embarrassing.â
âWhatâs got you so wet, hm?â
You squirm, feeling the lingering pleasure flare up. âItâs not my fault youâre so vocal.â
âDirty girl. You like hearing how good you make me feel?â His thumb smears your entrance, picking up and spreading the fresh arousal that gathers there and itâs as good as any verbal answer. âFeel that? So worked up with nowhere to go.â
His fingers part you gently, circling your entrance with feather-light strokes that make you gasp.Â
âLet me warm you up again, sweets. Youâre so swollen here, feels like youâve been waiting for more. Gonna make sure youâre nice and ready for me.â
He plays with the mess between your legs, his own expression a mix of hunger and restraint, breaths coming in measured pulls as he fights the urge to rush. One finger dips inside you shallowly, then two, curling just right to brush that spot that sends sparks up your spine.Â
The stretch is easier now, your body remembering the pleasure, and he coos softly at your soft whimper, thumb finding your clit to rub in slow, firm circles.Â
âShit, youâre so tight,â he groans quietly, voice rough around the edges. âSo warm and wet, itâs killing me not to slide in right now. But weâre taking our time, yeah? Making this perfect for you.â
Your hips rock instinctively into his hand, the coil of heat tightening low in your belly, and he grins, leaning in to pepper kisses along your jaw.Â
âLook at you, getting into it. My sweet girl, so responsive.â
You whine, the pleasure having reached a plateau and when you buck up for more, he withdraws his hand. The loss makes you whine but he hushes you with a gentle kiss to your forehead, reaching over to the nightstand and searching through his messy drawers for a condom.Â
The foil crinkles under his fingers as he tears it open and positions himself at your entrance. You're still slick, heâs made sure of that, but the anticipation makes you clench, nerves building up. He notices your sharp inhale and lets his tip nudge your slick folds, parting them teasingly though he pauses there to let you feel the pressure without pushing in.Â
âHey, eyes on me, sweets,â he murmurs, voice steady despite the way his chest heaves, his cock twitching against you. âYou still okay? Tell me if itâs too much, Iâll stop, I promise. But fuck, Iâd be lying if I said I didnât want to be inside you.â
âIâm okay,â you whisper breathlessly, fingers curling into the sheets below. âJust⌠go slow?â
He notices and slides a hand down to interlace your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your palm. âOf course. Whatever you want.âÂ
The stretch is immediate, a slow burn as he guides himself in, sinking bit by bit. His cock is much thicker than his fingers but the warmth of him, the way he watches every flicker of your expression with that twitch in his jaw, makes it bearable.Â
âFuck, youâre so fucking tight,â he rasps, eyes shutting briefly. âGripping me so good already. Easy, sweets, just relax into it.â
His voice cracks a little on the end, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds himself still once heâs halfway in.Â
It aches, but the fullness is intoxicating, waves of pleasure chasing the discomfort as your body yields. You gasp, squeezing his hand and he coos softly, stroking you with his thumb.Â
âCan I keep going?âÂ
You nod and even before your next breath, heâs already sliding in and bottoming out with a shared gasp, hips flushed against yours. His forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the humid air.Â
"How's that feel? Too much?â He asks softly.Â
âFull⌠so full,â you whimper, rocking experimentally and he hisses through his teeth, hips bucking up just a fraction before he catches himself.Â
âFuck, want me to move, sweets?â He shifts beneath you, guiding your hips in a gentle circle to grind against you, his praises making the movement slick.Â
âPlease,â you gasp out as the fullness sparks pleasure deep inside and he rewards your honest words with a slow roll of his hips.Â
âGood girl,â he praises, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he starts to move, shallow thrusts that build a steady friction. Each slide in and out drags against your inner walls, drawing out filthy whimpers and sighs as he hits that sweet spot with precision born of his experience.Â
Soon, your toes are curling and your back bows off his mattress, desperate to meet his thrusts.Â
âListen to those sounds youâre making,â he coos, emphasising his words with a deep thrust. âYouâre taking me so well, sweets. makes me want to stay buried in your forever.â
The pace gradually quickens, his control fraying at the edges as your moans encourage him. He shifts the angle, one leg hooking over his shoulder to deepen the penetration, and the new position has you crying out, pleasure coiling tight in your core.
Sweat beads on his skin, dropping onto your chest and he leans down to capture a nipple between his lips, sucking gently as he thrusts harder, the wet slap of skin echoing softly.Â
âThatâs it, let go for me,â he urges against your tits, teeth grazing the peak before soothing it with his tongue. âI can feel you squeezing, you close for me already? Come on, sweets, chase it.â
His words weave through the haze, dirty and devoted, spurring you higher as his freehand slips between you to circle your clit in time with his hips. The dual sensations overwhelm, building to a peak that has you trembling beneath him.Â
When it hits, itâs blinding, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, walls clenching rhythmically around him and pulling him deeper. He groans your name like a prayer, thrusts stuttering as rides it out with you, prolonging the bliss with expert rolls of his hips.Â
Only when you slump, sweaty and panting, does he let himself follow, a filthy groan escaping his lips as he buries himself deep one last time and spills into the condom, body shuddering as he struggles to hover over you.Â
He doesnât pull away immediately, instead pressing his hips closer to ensure youâve gotten everything before collapsing half on top of you, peppering lazy kisses along your neck.Â
âYouâre amazing,â he whispers. âMy perfect girl, did so good for us.â
You whimper against the ticklish sensation. âYou're too heavy.â
He chuckles and rolls off you, slowly pulling out to pull the condom off and discard it. you watch him with sleepy eyes, eagerly nuzzling into his arms when he settles back beside you.Â
âNeed anything? Water? Cuddles?âÂ
You hum, feeling the satisfaction morph into a drowsiness that has you melting into his arms, only feeling his warmth.Â
âYou?â
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. âIâm so glad I stole you away. Youâre so fucking perfect for me.âÂ
You lean into his side, feeling a sense of indescribable completeness that fills you with certainty.Â
Geto Suguru may have been everyoneâs first love but Gojo Satoru is the one you choose.Â
And judging by the way his arm tightens around you, the way his grin softens when he looks down at you, he knows it too.Â
Geto Suguru is everyoneâs first love.
Even to this day, your friends will roll their eyes and insist that canât possibly be true. But from experience, that was exactly who he was, someone to admire from afar like a painting behind glass. Beautiful and alluring, and just out of reach.Â
You see him now up, sitting on the couches at the house party driving the murmur of conversation with ease, a red cup used to gesture. Laughter ripples outward in waves, people leaning closer, drawn in.
You smile out of solidarity, resting against the wall with content misplaced at a busy place like this.Â
âDid you wait long?â
You turn your head to find your boyfriend weaving through bodies with the casual confidence of someone who assumes space will make itself around him. Two drinks in hand, hair messy under his cat, grin already forming because heâs caught you staring.Â
You push off the wall, reaching automatically for whichever cup is closer but he pulls back to sniff both before handing you the opposite one.
You take it gratefully and when you take a sip, you realise itâs your favourite juice.Â
âWait time longer than the lines at Universal,â you tease.Â
He grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead. âNext time I'll get us the priority pass. Not that it looked like you minded the wait. Donât think I didn't see you eyeing Suguru like that. Do I have competition again?â
You shove him playfully. âPlease, like I'm the one whoâs been draping themselves over him for the past hour.â
Across the room, Geto laughs again, someone hanging off his shoulder while he tries to keep the liquid in his cup from spilling. He catches your eye briefly and lifts his cup in greeting. You return it with a smile.
Next to you, Gojo sighs dramatically.
âWow,â he says flatly. âRight in front of me too. Why canât I see any remorse in your eyes?â
âBecause there isnât any there,â you snort. âYou're the one who told him to come tonight.â
âWhere thereâs Satoru, thereâs Suguru.â
âI learnt that the hard way.â
He hums, arm sliding around your waist to pull you flush against his side. His thumb starts tracing lazy circles just above your hip, absentminded and affectionate, a touch so familiar you barely notice as you lean into him in return.
âStill,â he murmurs, quieter now, his breath warm against your cheek. âYou donât have to keep looking at him like that.â
âLike what?â
âLike youâre thinking about what you could have had.â
You tilt your head to look up at him. His expression isnât jealous, not completely, just searching, softer than the bravado he usually wears.
âI'm not,â you promise gently. âIt was always superficial. You know that better than anyone. I guess now, looking at him is like looking at a relic of a different version of me.â
He hums. âHe would have liked that sentence.â
You roll your eyes, ever so familiar with his dramatics. âYou have nothing to worry about, baby. I promise.â
âYeah?â
âYeah.â You reach up and adjust the brim of his cap slightly, smoothing down a piece of hair that refuses to stay put. âBesides, I think I traded up.â
âKeep talking like that and I'm going to start thinking you actually like me,â he grins, voice lowering.
You smack his chest but your other hand lingers in his hair, fingers slipping into the soft hair at his nape. "Don't get cocky.â
Too late. He's already smiling wide, not the loud, flashy grin everyone else gets, but something softer and almost boyish reserved just for you.
Gojo leans down and finds your lips. The kiss is slow and unhurried, deeper than something meant for a crowded room but not quite indecent, like heâs forgotten where you are or just doesnât care.
He pulls back just enough to talk. âHey, I have an idea thatâll solve this three way jealousy.â
âWhat?"
âWhy donât we just have a threesome?â
a/n: i had to repost this because i realised i could fit everything into one post but holy hell reformating everything made me wanna die so please smash that like button hit subscribe and don't forget to turn on that notification bell ++ shoutout to flatline and happy pokemon day to those who celebrate
You've spent all dayâeight hours, to be exactâmaking fucking Jello shots. How many do they even need? Is the entire goddamn country coming to this party?
Okay, not just Jello shots. Drinks too. And appetizers, because apparently you have zero chill. You know these feral frat boys won't appreciate your fancy mango salsa or the homemade hummus with the good imported olive oil drizzle. They'd probably eat garbage out of a dumpster if it had enough hot sauce. But could you stop yourself from doing your job exceedingly well? Absolutely fucking not. That's not how your brain works.
It's been about a month since you started as the cook at this frat house, and surprisingly⌠you don't hate it. In a pathetic, please-don't-analyze-this-too-deeply sort of way, you kind of like being around all the college students. Makes you feel like you're one of them. Which is stupid, because you're not. Circumstances didn't exactly hand you the whole "dorm life and debt" experience, so here you are at twenty one, making banana pudding for a bunch of future CEOs who still leave their wet towels on the bathroom floor.
But honestly? Not as bad as you expected. The boys aren't pretentious assholesâat least not to you. They're almost sweet. Suguru leaves books he thinks you'd like on the counter. Satoru "steals" food but always brings you back something from wherever he went. Toji flicks your forehead but follows it with a kiss on the forehead, like you're a cat he's pretending to annoy. They call you sweetheart, princess, our girl. They make you feel appreciated.
And yeah. That's kind of all you've ever wanted. Don't think about it too hard.
Right now, you're elbow deep in bananas when the kitchen doors burst open. Satoru and Suguru, fresh from hockey practice, showered, hair still damp, sweatpants hanging so low you could see the v leading down to theirâ
"Hey princess."
Satoru's voice drips that cocky, I-just-scored-four-goals-and-I-look-good energy. The corner of his mouth lifts as he slides up behind you, reaching around to drag a finger through your whipped cream. He sucks it off slowly, deliberately, dramatically, those blue eyes never leaving yours like he's in a cologne commercial.
"Satoru!" You shriek, yanking the bowl away. "I will end you."
Suguru's arm drapes over your shoulder, his long hair tickling your neck as he peers down at your flustered face. "How's our girl doing today?"
You try not to blush. You really do. "Annoyed! I've made over a hundred Jello shots. A hundred, Suguru. Do you understand how many little plastic containers that is? Iâ"
"Shots?" Satoru's head snaps up from where he's already digging through the pantry like a raccoon. He yanks open the double door fridge, and his face goes through approximately twelve stages of joy. "Oh. Oh fuck. Babe."
He downs one in a single motionâno flinch, no reaction, just that stupid gorgeous grin as he slides up to your other side, boxing you in against the counter between them. âYou always make the best shots, babe," Satoru murmurs, breath warm against your ear. "Just enough vodka to get everyone properly fucked up. You care about our guests. It's cute."
"Hey, sweet girl?" Suguru's voice dips lower, and when you glance up at him through your lashes, there's something in his dark eyes that makes your thighs press together involuntarily. Traitors. "Will you make me a sandwich? Practice wiped us out."
You roll your eyes so hard you almost see your own brain. Then you pointâdramatically, with feelingâat the fridge. "Already made it. Pre-made. Because I knew I'd be busy today and apparently I'm your collective mother."
Satoru groans like you just proposed, dipping down to press an exaggerated kiss to your cheek. "Our perfect girl."
"Thanks, baby." Suguru's kiss lands on your temple, soft and warm and entirely too familiar.
The two of them descend on the fridge like feral animals, retrieving their sandwiches and immediately perching on the counter like they were raised in a barn. You tsk at them, hands on your hips. They respond with identical charming smiles that probably get them out of every ticket, every bad grade, every sin they've ever committed.
You're their personal housewife. Their live-in, apron-wearing fantasy. And honestly? You don't care that much. You're getting paid, they're all hot, and the health insurance is somehow better than anything you've ever had. You've made worse bargains.
They finish their sandwiches and thank you againâSatoru with a wink, Suguru with a lingering lookâand you're mid-banana-slice when you feel them again.
Behind you. On you.
Satoru's arm slides around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. Suguru's arm crosses above yours, bracing against the counter. You're caged. Surrounded. And your heart is slamming against your ribs like it's trying to win a race.
Okay. Not the worst way to die.
But you can feel the mischief radiating off them, thick as cologne.
"Guys," you manage, voice only slightly breathless. "I have to cook." You lean your head back against Satoru's shoulder, craning to look up at them. Bad move. They're both looking down at you with an expression you've never seen before. Hungry.
"Our girl is so pretty, ain't she?" Satoru's hand comes up, fingers threading through your hair like you're something precious.
"So pretty it makes me want to mess her up a little." Suguru's voice is a low rumble against your skin right before his mouth descends on your throat.
This is not like the sweet cheek and forehead kisses you're used to. This is teeth. This is suction. This is Suguru devouring the side of your neck like he's been starving for it.
"S-Sugu?" His name comes out as a whisper. Breathless. Needy.
"Shh." He keeps working your throat, sucking hard enough that you know there will be marks, biting just shy of pain, and a gasp tears out of you before you can stop it. Satoru's hand splays across your belly, warm through your shirt, while his other hand keeps carding through your hair like he's soothing an animal. It's overwhelming. It's godly. Like being worshiped by two very attractive, very determined men.
"We've been thinking," Suguru murmurs against your skin, "about how much you do for us." A kiss to the spot he just abused. "We want to give you something back."
Satoru's hand slides up, palming your breast through your apron, kneading like you're dough he wants to shape. You melt. Completely. Absolutely. Your bones have left the building.
"But Iâ" You gasp as Suguru nips your earlobe, and okay, that does something to you. "I need to keepâthe puddingâ"
"We won't be long, baby." Satoru nuzzles into your hair, voice thick with promise. "Promise. We just want to make you feel good."
Suguru's hand slides under your apron, under your shirt, finding your bare breast while Satoru works the other side. His fingers find your nipple, already peaked and sensitive, rolling it between them until your hips jerk forward involuntarily. Your cunt aches. This is insane. This is happening.
"Butâ" Your eyes flick to the kitchen door. To the sounds of the house beyondâfootsteps, laughter, the general chaos of a frat preparing for a party. Suguru pinches your nipple, harder this time, and a whine escapes your throat.
"I want to taste her, Sugu." Satoru's voice has gone petulant, whiny, even as his hands keep working your breasts. "I scored more goals at practice today. I deserve it more."
You feel Suguru's annoyance at thatâa subtle tension in his bodyâbut he doesn't argue. Instead, he pulls you back against his chest and flips you both, so he's leaning against the counter and you're leaning against him. Satoru stands in front of you, and his grin is devastating.
Your head falls back against Suguru's shoulder. His nose drags along your jaw, leaving fire in its wake. Then Satoru surges forward and takes your mouth.
You moan into the kiss. It starts slow almost gentle but quickly devolves into something hungry. Desperate. His tongue slides against yours, consuming you, and this is the kind of kiss you feel in your toes, in your fingertips, in the empty, aching space between your legs. If Suguru wasn't holding you up, you'd collapse.
When Satoru tears his mouth away, you actually try to chase him embarrassingly. But he's already sinking to his knees on the kitchen floor, and oh fuck.
Oh fuck.
He yanks your apron off, letting it pool on the floor, then tugs your leggings down with zero gentleness. When he sees your cotton pink panties soaked through, visibly, obviously, he groans like you've given him a gift.
Satoru kisses your belly first. Then his mouth descends, and he sucks your clit through your underwear.
"Satoru!" The whine that leaves you is embarrassing. You clutch at Suguru's arm like a lifeline, electricity arcing through every nerve. Your vision actually fuzzes at the edges.
He pulls your panties down and dives in like a starving man. His tongue licks through your folds with purpose, his fingers stroking, spreading, exploring. Another high pitched whine escapes you as Suguru keeps working your nipples, keeping you overstimulated, over-sensitive, perfect.
"She tastes so fucking good, Sugu." Satoru's voice is muffled against your cunt, but you feel the words vibrate through you. He's licking up your juices like they're the finest thing he's ever tasted. Then he finds your opening, spreads the wetness around, and thrusts two fingers inside.
You arch back against Suguru so hard your spine might snap. Your vision whites out completely.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
You've neverâneverâbeen ravished like this. With this kind of hunger. This kind of passion. A tingling sensation spreads down your legs, up your spine, until you're nothing but sensation.
"Ohh!" The moan rips out of you as Satoru starts fucking his fingers in and out, curling, searching.
Blue eyes lock onto yours from between your legs. He's watching you while he sucks on your clit, while he nibblesâand he looks smug. So fucking pleased with himself. Like he's proving a point.
"Shh, quiet, babygirl." Suguru's whisper ghosts across your ear. "We don't want the whole house to hear that their sweet girl is slacking off, do we?"
"Suguâ" You nuzzle into him desperately, rolling your hips against Satoru's face, riding his mouth, chasing the release that's building like a tidal wave. You're so close. So closeâ
Through the haze of pleasure, your eyes drift to the door.
Sukuna leans against the frame.
Shirtless. Tattoos on full display. Sweatpants hanging obscenely low. And he's looking at you like he wants to destroy you.
You can't look away.
"Ahhâ" The sound punches out of you as Satoru's fingers curl inside you, finding that spot, pressing, relentless. You bite your lip hard, but your eyes stay locked on Sukuna. He's got some kind of spell on you. A dangerous spark lights his eyes. He tilts his head, just slightly, and something between terror and want spikes through your pleasure-soaked brain.
You come with a shriek, shattering against Satoru's mouth, against his fingers, against Suguru's chest. Wave after wave, until you're trembling and gasping and completely ruined.
âThatâs a good girl,â Suguru is murmuring in your ear, hand sliding down to soothe your belly until your shaking stops. âOur perfect girl.â
Satoru is reluctant to pull back but he does anyway, kissing up your belly right next to Suguruâs hand.
You're breathing hard, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your heart is still racing, pounding against your ribs like it's trying to escape. The aftershocks are still rippling through you, little sparks of pleasure firing along nerves that feel permanently rewired.
You turn your head, still leaning against Suguru's solid chest, and press a soft kiss to his cheek. It's gentle. Grateful. When you pull back, he's looking at you with an expression you can't quite nameâsomething warmer than you've ever seen on his face, softer. Like you've given him something precious.
You reach down and tug at Satoru's shoulder, pulling him up from his knees. He comes willingly, grinning like the cat that got the cream, and you kiss his cheek too. He tastes slightly like you, and that should be weird, but somehow it's not.
"Aww, thanks babe." Satoru's grin widens into something impossibly bright. He waves a dismissive hand. "It was nothing."
Suguru's arm tightens around you slightly. "Our girl is so sweet to us."
"The sweetest," Satoru agrees, and then his grin turns wicked. "Taste sweet too."
A flush crawls up your skin, hot and immediate, starting at your chest and working its way to your hairline. You can feel the heat in your ears, your cheeks, even your neck for god's sake. These boys are going to be the death of you.
You shake them offâphysically, mentally, emotionally if possibleâand point a stern finger toward the door. "I have to keep cooking!"
Satoru pouts. Actually pouts, his bottom lip pushing out like a child denied dessert. "But we're not done appreciating you."
"You're done," you inform him, grabbing a banana and brandishing it like a weapon. "Go. Shoo. Appreciate me by letting me work so I don't fall behind."
Suguru laughs, low and warm, and presses one last kiss to your temple before extracting himself from your personal space. He grabs Satoru by the back of his shirt, hauling him toward the door. "Come on, let her work."
"Fine, fine." Satoru blows you an exaggerated kiss as he's dragged out. "But we're not done, princess!"
The door swings shut behind them, and you're alone in the kitchen.
You press both hands to your flaming cheeks and take a deep breath. Then another. What the actual fuck just happened?
°.â˘ââ˘.°
Okay, so you're terrified.
Not regular terrified. Exceedingly, bone-deep, soul-shaking terrified.
You can't get the look out of your head.
Sukuna leaning against the doorframe. Shirtless. Tattoos coiling over his skin like promises of violence. Those eyesâgod, those eyesâwatching you fall apart with an expression that said I'm going to destroy you and you're going to thank me for it.
He's the head of the frat house. The one who approved your hiring, who signed off on your contract, whose word is literally law in this building. And his one stipulationâthe only rule he'd given the boys when they interviewed youâwas simple. Clear. Unambiguous.
No fucking any of the boys.
You'd thought it would be easy. You'd looked at Satoru and Suguru and Toji and thought, okay, attractive, but I'm a professional. I have self-control. This is a job.
You were so, so wrong.
Sukuna is a scary man. Not in the way that frat boys are scaryâloud and obnoxious and maybe a little physically intimidating. Sukuna is scary the way a storm is scary. The way a predator is scary. He demands attention in every room he walks into, his presence filling every corner, his voice carrying authority that makes people straighten their spines without thinking. His eyes miss nothing. His tattoos tell stories you don't want to know. He's dangerousâmore than in a bad boy way, more than in a he might hurt you way. He's dangerous in the way that some people are just built to be in charge, to dominate, to consume.
And you've gone against his one rule.
You need to talk to him. To explain. To beg if you have to. To promiseâgenuinely, sincerely, with every fiber of your beingâthat it will never happen again. Never. You can't lose this job. You can't. This job is your lifeline, your stability, your proof that you can make something work even when life didn't give you the chances it gave everyone else. If you lose this, you lose everything.
You take a shaky breath as you pack up your things for the day. The party has already started you can hear it through the kitchen walls, the thump of bass, the roar of voices, the sounds of everyone enjoying the drinks you spent eight hours preparing. You should feel proud. Instead, you feel like you're walking to your execution.
You peek out of the kitchen door.
Holy shit.
Maybe the whole college is actually here. The living room is packedâbodies pressed together, red Solo cups everywhere, someone has already climbed on a table and is being yelled at to get down. It's a sea of drunk college students and you have to navigate through it.
You don't see Sukuna anywhere. That's not surprisingâhe rarely mingles with people he considers "common." He's probably up in his room, in his domain, not being bothered with the peasants. You can sneak through the crowd. Nobody will notice one small cook slipping through.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you slip out the door.
Okay, maybe you weren't meant for college life.
The crowd closes around you immediately, loud and overwhelming and too much. Voices bounce off the walls, someone spills beer near your feet, a girl screams with laughter right in your ear. Your heart rate spikes. Your palms sweat. You keep your head down and move, weaving between bodies, murmuring "sorry" and "excuse me" and "'scuse me, sorry" until you reach the stairs.
You take them two at a time, desperate to escape the noise.
The upper floors are quieterânot silent, the party bleeds through the walls, but manageable. You make your way to the top floor, remembering that's where Sukuna's room is. Yuuji had mentioned it once, offhand, something about his brother being "territorial about his space" and how nobody went up there without permission.
You stop in front of his door.
Your hand shakes as you raise it to knock.
Knock knock.
Nothing.
You wait. Count to thirty in your head. Then knock again, harder this time.
You know he's in here. Where else would he be? He doesn't attend parties. He doesn't mingle. He stays in his room like a dragon in its lair, surrounded by his hoard, emerging only to remind everyone who's in charge.
"Enter."
The word comes through the wood like a command. Like he's not saying come in but you may approach my presence. Like he's a king and you're a subject begging an audience.
You open the door and slip inside.
Your eyes go wide.
He's in nothing but a towel. Pink hair messy and dripping onto his tattooed skin, water still beading on his shoulders, his chest, trailing down the lines of muscle and ink. He's fresh out of the shower and you just walked in andâ
"Uhâ" You break off, whipping around to face the wall. Your face is on fire. You can feel it burning from your neck to your hairline. "I'm sorry! I justâumâI didn't mean toâI can come backâ"
"Get on with it."
His voice is right behind you.
You gasp, eyes flicking up and over your shoulder. He's towering over youâJesus fucking Christ, he's at least 6'4, and broad, and naked except for that towel, and the way he's looking at you makes your stomach drop and your thighs clench simultaneously. "I umâI wanted to apologize." Your voice comes out small. Embarrassing. "Forâfor what you saw. In the kitchen."
"You don't seem sorry."
His voice is in your ear now. He's moved closerâyou can feel the heat radiating from his skin, can smell soap and something else, something sharp and masculine that makes your head spin.
"In fact." One painted black fingernail trails along your cheekbone, feather-light. You shiver. "You seemed very pleased to disobey me."
"Please." The word tumbles out before you can stop it. You turn slightly, just enough to meet his eyes over your shoulder. He's so close. Too close. Perfectly close. "Don't fire me. I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again. I promise. I promise."
He studies you for a long moment. His eyes are unreadable. Then he lifts his hand, and his fingers trace down your cheek, your jaw, until they're resting on your throat.
Not choking. Not yet. Just resting there, wrapped around your neck like a collar. Like a claim. Like he owns you and is simply reminding you of the fact.
Fuck.
"You're right, little dove." His voice is a low rumble, vibrating through his palm into your skin. "It won't happen again."
You shiver. The words are dark, weighted with promise. His fingers tighten slightlyâjust enough to make you gasp, just enough to feel the pressure, the control. "I think you're due for a little punishment." His thumb strokes over your pulse point, feeling it race. "What do you think?"
You nod. You can't form words. Can't form thoughts. All you can do is feelâthe warmth pooling in your belly, the ache between your legs, the terrifying excitement sparking through your chest. Oh god. Oh god.
"Get on the bed." His voice drops even lower, to something barely above a murmur, but the command in it is absolute. "On your knees. Facing me."
You scramble to obey.
It's undignified. You're pretty sure you trip over your own feet. But you make it to the bed, climb on, arrange yourself on your knees with your hands on your thighs like you're not sure what to do with them. You face him.
He looks pleased.
But there's that danger in his eyes. That mocking glint. That smug satisfaction that says he knows exactly what he's doing to you, exactly what you're feeling, exactly how wrecked you already are and he hasn't even touched you yet.
Your excitement flares alongside your terror when he reaches under the bed and pulls out a box.
You only catch a glimpse of what's insideâglimpses of leather, of rope, of things you recognize from internet research and things you don'tâbefore his hand is on your chin, grip tight and commanding, forcing you to look at him.
Then darkness.
A blindfold. He's put a blindfold over your eyes, and everything goes black.
"M-Mr. Sukuna...?"
"Do not speak unless you are spoken to."
His voice is right next to your ear. A growl. A command. You feel his breath on your skin, feel the heat of him, and then his hands grab your wrists and tie them behind your back with something that feels like rope. A surprised squeak escapes your throat.
"Yes, sir."
The words come out breathless. Worshipful. He is your boss, technicallyânot the one who hired you, but the one with complete say over whether you stay hired. The head of the frat. His word is law. And right now, his word is that you're bound and blind and completely at his mercy.
You feel him shed your clothes.
Piece by piece, efficiently, like he's unwrapping a gift he already knows he's going to enjoy. Your shirt goes first, then your braâhe doesn't bother with the clasp, just yanks it down your arms. Your leggings follow, then your panties, and then you're naked, completely bare, kneeling on his bed with your hands tied behind your back and your eyes covered.
You've never felt so exposed. So vulnerable. So alive.
"Perhaps we should call them to come watch."
His teeth drag along the back of your neck. Not gently. Not like a kiss. Like a threat. "Let them see their sweet little angel get treated like the whore she is."
Your throat closes. Panic and arousal tangle in your chest until you can't tell them apart. "Please no." The words rush out. "I'm sorry, please, I'll do anything, just don'tâ"
A smack cuts you off.
Harsh. Brutal. His palm connects with your bare ass and you gasp, pain blooming across your skin, your body jerking forward. Before you can recover, he hits you againâthe other cheek this time, and you have to bite your lip to contain the sound that wants to escape.
Something is seriously wrong with you.
Because god. You're into this. Your cunt is gushing, soaking your thighs, aching with emptiness. Your nipples are hard, rubbing against the mattress. Your whole body is trembling with a need you didn't know you could feel.
"I fucking knew it."
His voice is a growl of satisfaction. You feel his hands on youâspreading your cheeks, exposing you completely, letting cool air hit your soaked, desperate flesh. "So fucking wet. Just from me hitting you?" A finger traces through your folds, collecting your arousal, and you hear him make a sound of dark amusement. "I knew you weren't so innocent. All the other boys think you're some shy princess. Their sweet little cook who blushes when they flirt." He circles your entrance, teasing, making you clench around nothing. "But I knew. From the moment I saw you, I knew exactly what you were."
Another finger joins the first, spreading you open, playing with your wetness. "A dirty little whore who needs someone to put her in her place."
And then he pulls away completely.
The loss is devastating. You feel his warmth leave, feel his weight lift from the bed, and a whine escapes your throat before you can stop it. You want to question himâwhere are you going, what are you doing, please come backâbut you know you're not allowed to speak. You stay exactly as he left you: bound, blind, kneeling on his bed, waiting.
You hear the door open.
You hear shuffling. Movement. Voices? Maybe. You can't quite tell over the pounding of your heart.
Then a hand grips your chin, pulling you up onto your hands and knees. Another hand flicks your nipple hard, and you moan, the sound punched out of you.
"Want me to fuck you, brat?"
His voice is above your head. Towering over you. You nod eagerly, desperately, please.
"Say it."
"I want you to fuck me."
The words come out shy. Quiet. Embarrassed.
Smack.
Your ass stings, fresh pain blooming over skin that's already sensitive. "Wrong."
"I want you to fuck me, sir!" You try again, louder this time, more certain.
Smack. Harder. You cry out.
"I don't understand." The words are almost a sob. You can't figure out what he wants, what you're doing wrong, how to please him. "Please, sir, I don't understandâ"
"I want you to tell me what you are."
Silence.
Surely he doesn't meanâ
"Tell me."
You bite your lip. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment, with shame, with something that feels terrifyingly like want. "I'm..." The words stick in your throat. "I'm a whore."
Smack.
But this one is different. This one isn't his palmâit's something else, something made to hurt, something that leaves a sharper, more concentrated sting. "Fuck!" You shriek, nearly collapsing, but his hand on your chin holds you up.
"I'mâI'm a dirty whore!" The words tumble out, desperate, broken. "I'm a slutâI'm your slutâpleaseâ"
No hit this time. But his grip on your chin tightens, waiting. Expecting. He wants more.
Shame floods you. Humiliation. Arousal. "I'mâI'm a desperateâdisgustingâwhore. Please, sirâ"
Smack.
You whine in frustration. What did you do wrong? What does he want?
Then you feel itâhis palm, soothing your stinging skin. Almost gentle. Almost kind. His fingers slide down again, teasing your slit, making your nerves flare. You hold your breath, waiting, hopingâ
He shoves a finger inside.
Knuckle deep, hard, playing your body like an instrument he's always known how to tune. You moan, pushing back against his hand, aching for more, needing more.
"Look at you." He adds a second finger, stretching you, and you gasp. His fingers curl, hook, find that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your blindfold. "Such a filthy little dove, fucking herself on my fingers like the desperate whore she is."
He pumps them in and out. Finds a rhythm. Builds you up, higher and higher, until you're right thereâuntil the wave is about to crash over you, until you can taste your releaseâ
He pulls out.
Your head falls forward into the mattress. A whine slips out, high and pathetic. "No."
"What was that?" He heard you. Of course he heard you.
"Please."
"Hmm." You can hear the smile in his voice. The sadistic pleasure. "I've decided bad girls don't get their pussies played with."
You almost sob.
You need to come. Need his fingers, his cock, anything. You turn your head, trying to look behind you toward the sound of his voice even though you can't see anything. "Please." Your voice breaks. "I'll be a good girl. Please, sir. I'll be so good. The best girl." You wiggle your hips, emphasizing your need, your desperation, how completely ruined you are for him. "Pleaseâ"
"No." The word is a growl. His hand shoves your face back down into the mattress, hard, unforgiving. "Bad girls deserve to be fucked like the dirty sluts they are."
You hear rustling. Clothing, maybe. Then something lands on your backâsomething heavy, thick, monstrous.
Oh fuck.
His cock. It has to be his cock. And it's giantâyou can feel it from your ass to the middle of your spine, heavy and hot against your skin. Your mouth goes dry. Your cunt clenches around nothing. There's no way that's going to fit. No way. You'll die. You'll literally die.
"Who do you belong to?"
The question is casual. Easy. Like he's asking about the weather.
"You." The answer comes immediately, without thought, without hesitation. You belong to him. You know that now. You've always known it, somewhere deep, somewhere you didn't want to look. "I belong to you."
He makes a sound of approval. Then the tip of his cock teases your entrance, slides through your wetness, circles your clit, presses against your opening without pushing in. You're trembling. Shaking. Desperate.
"Beg for it."
"Please." The word is a gasp. "Please fuck me."
A harsh slap to your sideâyour hip, your fleshâmakes you yelp. "Louder."
"Please give me your cock!" You're shouting now, you realize distantly. Screaming. "Please put your cock inside me! Please, sir, I need it, I need itâ"
"What a dirty girl." His voice is amused. Cruel. "Shouting such words for the whole house to hear." The tip of his cock presses against you, not entering, just threatening. "How would your precious Satoru and Suguru feel if they could see their princess now?"
A soft cry leaves your throat. Shame floods youâhot, overwhelming, exquisite. You should care. You should. But all you can think about is how empty you are, how much you need to be filled, how nothing matters except his cock inside you.
Before you can beg again, he thrusts inside.
No warning. No adjustment. Just one brutal, complete shove that seats him to the hilt.
"Oh fuck!"
You scream into the mattress, mouth open in a silent scream that turns into a choked sob. Oh my god. Oh my god. You've neverâyou've never taken anything this big. You can feel him in your throat, in your chest, in every cell of your body. It's too much. It's perfect. It's painfulâa deep, stretching burn that makes tears spring to your eyes. Genuine terror settles in your chest.
"Waitâ" The word is barely audible. "Please, waitâ"
"Wait?" He doesn't move. Just stays buried inside you, letting you feel every inch, every pulse. "But you were just begging so unapologetically. Please give me your cock. Please put your cock inside me." His mockery is precise, cruel, perfect. "Now you want to wait?"
His hand strokes your hair. Almost gentle. Almost comforting. But you can feel his sadism beneath it, his pleasure in your discomfort, your pain, your complete submission.
"No, no, no." His hips pull back, almost all the way out, and you gasp at the loss. "You'll take what I give you." He slams back in. "You promised you'd be the best girl." Another thrust. "Brat."
A loud sob leaves you. Tears stream down your face, soaking into the mattress. He's giant. It's overwhelming. Overstimulating. You wish you could grab onto something, but your hands are bound, useless behind your back. All you can do is take it.
He sets a rhythm. Harsh. Brutal. Driving into you with single-minded focus, as deep as he can go, his hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. His words wash over youâ"fuck, so tight" and "dirty brat has a perfect pussy" and "this is what you needed, isn't it? This is what you've been begging for"âand you can't respond, can't do anything but moan and sob and feel.
You've never been so brutally fucked in your life.
It's terrifying. It's amazing. You're reduced to nothingânot a person, not a cook, not the boys' sweet princess. Just a hole for him to use. A toy. His property. And god, you've never felt so alive.
You're screaming. You realize that distantly, through the haze. Screaming so loud that his hand reaches around, shoves two fingers into your open mouth, hooks on your jaw. You slobber around them, drool running down your chin, and you should be embarrassed but you can't find embarrassed right now.
"Sukmmmânaâmmâ" You try to say his name, but it's garbled around his fingers. Then he shifts his angle, just slightly, and hits a spot inside you that makes your brain turn to mush.
Oh.
Oh.
Yes. Yes. That spotâhe found it, he's hitting it, and you gush around him, soaking his cock, the bed, everything.
"Oh, you nasty little dove." He sounds delighted. Smackâhis hand connects with your ass, never stopping his thrusts. "Squirting all over me like the filthy slut you are. That's it, brat. Look at you." He fucks you harder, deeper, aiming for that spot every time. "Made for me to fuck. I own you. I fucking own you." His voice is a snarl, possessive and absolute. "And your perfect pussy. It's mine. Only I get to say who fucks it or touches it. Not you. Understand?"
You're too far gone to answer. Too busy crying, moaning, existing as nothing but sensation.
"Crying like a whiny brat?" Another slap to your hip. Another thrust that makes you see stars. "You don't like your punishment? You should be thanking me for getting rid of the disobedience in you."
Another hit. Another thrust. Your cunt clenches around him, desperate.
"Well?" His voice is a whip crack. "Thank me."
"Thank you!" The words pour out of you, broken and desperate. "Thank you, sir, for punishing meâthank you, thank you, thank youâI don't deserve itâI'm so gratefulâpleaseâ"
Electricity runs down your body. You're so close. So close. You can feel it building, that wave, that release, thatâ
He pulls out.
Completely out.
You sob at the loss. Your body aches. You try to push back, to find him, to get him inside you again, but he's gone. Out of reach.
"S-Sukuna?"
You hear movement. The wet sound of stroking. His grunts filling the room.
Is he... jerking off?
"You don't deserve my cum inside you."
"No!" The word is a whine. A bratty, desperate whine. "Wait, pleaseâ"
His hand yanks your hair back, pulling you up, making you squeal in pain. "What was that?"
"Please, sir." You're crying. Actually crying. "Don't do this. Please cum inside me. I need it. I need it so bad." Your voice breaks. "This isn't fair."
"Fair?" He laughs. Actually laughs. "Oh, you poor little dove." His hand releases your hair, strokes it gently, cruelly. "Was it fair that I watched you whore around in the kitchen? Deliberately disobeying me?" His cock slides along your back, using your body like a toy. "Was that fair?"
You shake your head frantically. You can still hear him stroking himself, can feel his cock twitching against your skin. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It won't happen again, I promiseâ"
"Really?" His voice sounds almost pleased. Like he's caught you in a trap. "Why don't you prove it?"
"Prove...?"
And then suddenly, the blindfold is gone.
You blink against the harsh light. Your vision swims, clears, focuses.
Standing in front of you, at the edge of the bed, are Satoru and Suguru.
Watching you.
Their erections are visible through their pants. Their faces are unreadableâshock, maybe, or arousal, or something you can't name. They've seen everything. Heard everything.
Your jaw drops. Then closes. Embarrassment floods you so hot and complete that you can't breathe.
"How long...?"
"The entire time." Sukuna's voice is amused. Cruel. He's still behind you, still naked, still there. "They found out who their sweet girl really is." Sukuna's hand tightens in your hair, forcing your gaze up. "Aren't you going to greet your guests?"
Tears fill your eyes as you obey and look into Satoru and Suguruâs eyes. You felt so ashamed. Do they hate you now?
âAww donât worry sweet girl,â Satoru cuts in and reaches out to cup the side of your face. Looking at you like you were an angel rather than a fucked out whore with drool on your face and mascara running. âNow we can use you too. Now that we know how much you like it.â
âYeah,â Suguru agrees and cups the other side of your face. Your eyes flick between the two men. âWeâve been waiting too long to get our cocks inside your pretty cunt.â
"We're gonna play a little game, brat." Sukuna's voice slides over you like a blade, sharp and cold and utterly without mercy. He's beside you nowâwhen did he move?âand his presence alone makes the air thicker, heavier, harder to breathe. Like the atmosphere itself bows to him. "Since you promised it won't happen again, that you belong to me..." His fingers trace down your spine, feather-light, making you shiver. "They're going to fuck you." He pauses, letting that sink into your bones, watching your pupils dilate. "And if you don't cum, I won't fire you. But if you do..." His thumb traces your lower lip, presses just hard enough to part them, slips inside briefly to feel your tongue before withdrawing. "There will be a punishment to face."
You swallow hard, throat clicking. That's impossible. Your body ignites whenever Satoru or Suguru touch you. You're already halfway there, still sensitive from before, still trembling with residual need, your cunt still slick and swollen and aching. There's no way you can lastâno fucking wayâ
Sukuna moves in front of you while the other two men shift behind. You instinctively turn your head, desperate to see what they're doing, what's coming for you, but Sukuna's hand fists in your hair and yanks your face back around. Hard enough to sting. Hard enough to make you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
You're staring at his tattooed waist. At his cockâhard, leaking, monstrous. Thick as your wrist, veined and heavy, the flushed head slick with pre-cum that beads at the slit. Your mouth waters. You can't help it. You want to taste it, want to feel it stretch your throat, want to choke on it until you can't breatheâ
"Look at me."
You nod, eyes snapping to his, and the hunger in his gaze makes your core clench around nothing.
Then hands are everywhere. Four of them. Five, if you count Sukuna's grip on your hair, keeping you locked in place. They roam eagerlyâsliding down your sides, smoothing over your hips, gripping your thighs hard enough to leave fingerprints. Electrifying. Two find your breasts, kneading roughly, pinching your nipples until you gasp, rolling them between calloused fingers until they're peaked and aching. A hand slides between your legs from behind, fingers parting your folds, sliding through the wetness that's already dripping down your thighs.
"Fuck, she's soaked," someone breathesâSatoru, you think, his voice high with arousal.
Fuck. You're so sensitive. Right on the edge. One breath away from shattering into a million pieces.
"Oh, baby." Satoru's coo is almost mocking, honey-sweet and vicious. Lips press to your spine, sucking a hot path down to the small of your back, teeth grazing skin. "She's not gonna last. Look at her. She's already dripping, Sugu."
Then you feel itâthe blunt tip of a cock pressing at your entrance, spreading your wetness, teasing your hole. You freeze. Anticipation locks every muscle, every nerve ending screaming for it. Then he pushes inside, and you gaspâso big, so full, stretching you open in the most delicious way. Not as thick as Sukuna's, maybe, but way above average, curved just slightly, and godâ
When he pulls back and thrusts again, something catches inside you. Something hard. Something good. The piercingâa barbell, you think, or maybe a Prince's wandârubs against that spongy spot inside you, the one that makes your vision blur. "Ah!" Your back arches involuntarily, a moan ripping from your throat, high and wanton. "Suguru!"
You know it's him. Who else would have a cock piercing? Who else would know exactly how to angle his hips to hit that spot every single time?
A growl rumbles from behind youâSuguru, pleased that you recognized him, that your body knows him so well. His thrusts start deep and deliberate, almost gentle in their forcefulness, before they spiral into something quick and desperate. His hips slap against your ass, skin meeting skin in a rhythm that's already getting sloppy, wet sounds filling the room.
"So tight, angel." His lips brush your ear, his voice slurred with pleasure, wrecked and needy. "Fuckâyou're squeezing me like you never want me to leave. Like your pretty little cunt is trying to keep me inside forever."
"How does she feel, Sugu?" Satoru's voice is manic, breathless, high-pitched with need. Like he needs to know. Like the answer matters more than air, more than his next breath. "Is she good? Is she fucking good?"
"Like fucking heaven." Suguru punctuates it with a thrust that makes your vision white out, your toes curl, your bound hands clench into fists. "Like she was made for this. Made for us."
"Ahâ" The force of it drives your head forward into Sukuna's abs. His skin is warm, scarred, perfect. His hand tightens in your hair, holding you there, pressing your face against his stomach. "I can'tâI can'tâSukunaâpleaseâI need toâ"
Satoru is jerking off behind youâyou can feel his cock sliding along the globes of your ass, leaking pre-cum, smearing wetness across your skin, the tip catching on your rim occasionally before sliding away. He's vocal about it, low grunts and moans falling from his lips as he strokes himself against your naked body like you're his personal toy, his breathing ragged and desperate.
Suguru grips your tied wristsâuses them as handlesâyanking you back onto his cock in a ruthless, punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives you harder into Sukuna. Each impact makes you gasp, makes your breasts bounce, makes the ropes bite into your skin. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein, every pulse.
You tilt your head up, meeting Sukuna's gaze. Your eyebrows are scrunched with pleasure, your mouth hanging open, drool threatening to escape past your lips. You don't care. You're past caring, past shame, past everything but sensation.
"Please." You nuzzle into his touch like a cat in heat, desperate, needy, rubbing your cheek against his abs, his hips, anywhere you can reach. "Please let me cum. Please. Iâah!âSukunaâI'll call out your name! Just yours! I'll scream itâI'llâI'll do anythingâ"
Sukuna's hand starts stroking his cock againâthick, heavy, intimidating, his fist moving along the length in slow, deliberate pulls. He presses the tip against your cheek, smearing pre-cum across your skin, marking you before he's even finished. The scent of him fills your noseâmasculine, dark, intoxicating. His eyes light up with something dark and intrigued at your suggestion, something almost pleased.
"Very well." His voice is a low rumble, vibrating through you. "But you'd better put on a show. And keep looking at me." He strokes himself faster, grip tight, knuckles brushing your face. "I want to see exactly how much you love another man fucking you. I want to watch you break on his cock. I want to see the exact moment you become nothing but pleasure."
You keep eye contact. Hold it. Let him see everythingâevery flicker of pleasure, every time Suguru hits that spot, every desperate moan that escapes your throat, every tear that escapes down your cheek. You're so close. So fucking close you can taste it, feel it building in your belly like a coil winding tighter and tighter.
"Ah shitâfuck yeah!" Satoru's voice peaks behind you, and then you feel itâhot and wet spurting across your back, your ass, dripping down your thighs, painting your skin in ropes of cum. "Such a fucking dirty slutâletting me cum all over youâfuck, look at you, covered in it, taking it like you were made for thisâlike you were born to be our personal fucking cocksleeveâ"
Oh god. The heat of it, the wetness, the knowledge that he came just from watching youâit pushes you closer, makes your walls flutter around Suguru's cock.
"Shit." Suguru's head falls back, and you feel him pulse inside youâthe way your walls clamp down makes him groan, deep and guttural. "That made her so tightâfuck, I'm closeâI'm so fucking closeâfuckâ"
His thrusts turn animalistic. Raw. Wild. Primal. Each slam of his hips jolts your entire body, making your breasts bounce, making your tied wrists strain against the ropes, making little sounds punch from your throat with every impact. He's hitting parts of youâplaces that make stars explode behind your eyes, make your toes curl so hard they cramp. So deep. Getting deeper with every thrust, like he's trying to crawl inside you, become part of you. You can feel him in your toes, in your fingertips, in the back of your throat.
"How does that sound, angel?" His voice is wrecked, desperate, nothing like his usual composure. "Want me to cum inside you? Get you nice and full until it's dripping down your pretty thighs, until you're leaking me for hours?" He groans, fucking into you harder, faster, sloppier. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being stuffed like a goddamn easy whore. A cumslut. That's what you are, isn't it? Our perfect little cumslut? Say itâfucking say itâ"
âCumslutâ! Iâm your cumslut!â You slur in agreementâyou can't help it, can't form words, can't do anything but take it, your brain completely offline, nothing but pleasure and need and the desperate ache to finally, finally let go.
You keep looking at Sukuna like he demanded. Your mouth is open in a silent scream, drool finally escaping down your chin, mixing with the pre-cum he smeared on your cheek. Your eyes are glazed, pupils blown, tears streaming. You're a mess. A complete, utter, beautiful mess.
"Sukuna!" You finally scream itâhis name, just his, like you promised, like you need him to know even as you fall apart on another man's cock. "So good Sukuna! Make me cumâmake me cumâgive it to meâplease sirâI'm gonna cumâah! I'm your dirty slut! Just yours! Fuhhhckâah! SUKUNA!â
You shatter.
Your orgasm rips through you like lightning, like falling, like dying and being reborn in fire. Your vision whites out completely, ears ringing, body convulsing. Little squeals and cries leave your throatâhigh-pitched, animalistic, goneâas your cunt spasms around Suguru's cock, milking him, squeezing him, destroying you both in the process. You're aware of your hips grinding back against him, chasing it, taking everything he gives you, completely lost to sensation.
Suguru follows immediately, shouting something unintelligibleâyour name, maybe, or a curse, or bothâas he pumps into you with harsh, jerky thrusts. Hot spurts of cum flood your insides, filling you, marking you from the inside out, painting your walls white. You feel full. Overflowing. Claimed in the most primal way possible. It leaks around where you're joined, dripping down your thighs, mixing with Satoru's cum that's already cooling on your skin.
And Sukunaâhis cock rubs against your cheek, and then it's everywhere. Hot ropes of cum splash across your face, your lips, your closed eyes, your hair, mixing with your tears and drool as he marks you as his. He keeps eye contact the entire time, watching you fall apart under his ownership, watching you take everything they give you and beg for more. When he's done, he taps his cock against your cheekâonce, twice, three timesâletting every single drop hit your face, painting you, owning you, leaving you as undignified as possible. A mess. His mess.
You collapse face-first into the bed, thighs still shaking uncontrollably. Behind you, the men are spentâyou feel Satoru's forehead press against your lower back, his breath hot on your skin, and Suguru's hands rubbing soothing circles into your hips before he kisses your reddened ass cheeks, soft and almost tender.
"Out." Sukuna's voice cuts through the haze after a long minute.
For a moment you think he means you, but then the guys stir behind you. They lift out of their post-orgasm haze, and before they leave, each of them presses soft kisses to your bodyâSatoru to your shoulder, Suguru to your hipâgentle, reverent, thank you.
Then the door clicks shut, and it's just you and Sukuna.
You don't know what you expect. Him to leave? To mock you? To start round two?
Not this.
He leaves and comes back with a warm washcloth. You watch in wonder as he climbs onto the bed and starts cleaning you with gentle swipes along your body, wiping cum off your ass, your back, your face. He holds your chin still with one hand while the other works the cloth along cheek and jaw.
âWhat, brat?" His voice is sharp and aggressive but you're starting to realize that's just how he is. Like a cat hissing because it doesn't know how else to ask for affection. "I take care of what's mine."
Mine.
You melt. Pathetically. Completely. Turning to absolute putty in his grip like you have no bones, no spine, no dignity whatsoever. Your entire body goes soft and pliant, and you'd be embarrassed if you had any brain cells left to form the emotion. You don't. They've all evacuated after whatever the hell just happened to you.
Then he lays you down. Gently. Like you're something breakable. He pulls you against his chest and wraps himself around you like a shelter. An arm banded across your back. A leg slotting between yours. His hand comes up to stroke your hair, fingers carding through the tangled mess with surprising gentleness.
You almost sob.
The sound gets trapped in your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, because thisâthisâis so much worse than the fucking. This tenderness. This careful handling. You nuzzle into him, face pressed against the ink on his chest, and he tightens around you. Curls himself protectively, like he's building a fortress with his body and you're the treasure inside.
"Shh." His whisper vibrates through his ribs into your cheek. He knows. Of course he knowsâyou're pretty sure this man notices everything. "Everything's okay, brat. You did good."
You did good.
Four words. That's all it takes. Your eyes burn and you blink rapidly against his skin, refusing to acknowledge the moisture there. You're not crying. You're not. You're just... overwhelmed. Emotionally compromised. A little bit broken in the best possible way.
This is exactly what you needed after being so thoroughly, completely, brutally wrecked. The aftermath. The quiet. Someone holding you together while your soul floats back down into your body.
His hand keeps moving through your hair, steady rhythm, petting you like a cat. Every few strokes, his fingers graze your scalp and your whole body shivers, relaxing deeper into him. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, slow and steady and annoyingly calm compared to the jackhammer in your chest. But it's grounding. Anchoring you here.
You're pretty sure there are bruises forming in interesting places. You're also pretty sure you don't care.
"Rest, brat." His voice rumbles through him, through you. Not a suggestion. A command.
And honestly? You're too tired to argue. Too blissed out. Too safe in a way that doesn't make any sense given who you're wrapped around, but feels absolutely real in this moment.
Your eyes close. Your breathing slows to match his. And you let yourself fall into the warmth, into the dark, into the solid weight of his arms holding you together.
this blog features NSFW content, including full smut, explicit, and more. likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! owever, spamming likes without reblogging may result in a block.
MULTI-HEADCANON
SSSHHH, BEWARE OF THE FOOTSTEPS!
MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WHORE
LEGACY? MORE LIKE LEG-A-SEE THROUGH MY PUSSY
MY DICK ENTERED THE CHAT WHEN YOUR COSTUME DID!
A FLEXIBLE BIMBOâS GUIDE TO FINANCIAL RUIN, NAMASTEEE
CREAM-OF-THE-CROP-CUNT, MAMA
ARE YOU A GOOD GIRL?
ARE YOU A FILTHY GIRL?
ACADEMIC MISCONDUCT : PU$$Y SUBMISSION EDITION
BOTTOMS OUT, BRAT TAX
TOOTH FAIRY
TENURE? NAH, TONGUE-URE
THE COLOR OF SUFFERING: PANTONE BLUEBALL 069
911? THE DUMP BITCH PIPELINE
SATOSUGU
MINI-SERIES :
TILL FOREVER FALLS APART
â] summary. when you first joined jujutsu high, you probably never imagined being in relationships with two of the strongest special grade sorcerers. yet here you are, destined to spend the rest of your life with them. did you complain about it? absolutely not. this is simply the story of your life being in relationships with geto suguru and gojo satoru.
CAN YOU HANDLE IT BABY? : you are sitting there in the living room, drowning under the tongue-tied make-out sessions before your other boyfriends walk in, happily watching the two of you while touching himself.
SHUT UP AND STOP IT : there is nothing better than make-up sex after you and your two lovely boyfriends, having an argument.
COLD ICE POPSICLE! : you and your friends sit in the back of the school building, smoking and talking, joint in hands. it was summer and heat waves swimming around freely, you eating some ice cream, licking and slurping while your eyes focus on your two friends. who knows that might not be the only thing you lick that day?
I CAN FUCK TREAT YOU BETTER : you and gojo were all alone, no geto around, just the two of youâ all alone, in the bed, kissing, make out under the glisten of the dim lights, under the blanket. (gojo)
GOOD GIRL GO TO HEAVEN : . . . after a long day of assembling a lot of furniture and decorating your new house, your lovely boyfriends decided they want to test drive the new bed with you.
ONE-SHOT / FAN-FICTION(S) :
ONE FOR BOYFRIEND, TWO FOR BEST FRIEND : you want your turn? let me have my girlfriend firstâ geto said. on the couch, raining outside, horror movie playing in the background, two handsome men, one you. one is your boyfriend, and two is his bestfriend who shared everything, you donât mind now donât you?
SHARING IS Sâ X CARINGďź: your boyfriend and his best friend are inseparable. theyâve shared everything; clothes, foods, money, games... you, they hope you donât mind.
can you handle it, baby? : you are sitting there in the living room, drowning under the tongue-tied make-out sessions before your other boyfriends walk in, happily watching the two of you while touching himself.
SEX ED 404 OF PROFESSOR GETO : HOW TO TRAIN YOUR GOJO! : college lifeâs already a mess when your boyfriend getoâs a cocky, possessive bastard with a god-tier stroke game â and his best friend gojoâs the loud, shameless idiot who somehow keeps ending up in your bed too. what starts as a âteaching momentâ turns into a full-blown masterclass in filth: geto showing gojo exactly how to touch you, taste you, fuck you, and ruin you right. itâs a disaster in theory and perfection in practice â a sweaty, obscene crash course in your body taught by two rich, unhinged men who love you way too much to stop. expect chaos, swearing, and a lot of very educational hands-on lessons.
THE IT GUY : your boss needs his computer to be fixed so they can fuck you.
DIRTY LITTLE NURSE : youâre a nurse and they are friends from one of your patient.
S. GOJO
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO GOJOâS D$CK : whatâs the best sex position ever? loud and clear you said missionary. the result? got called slut by shoko and dared by geto to fuck the stupidest man in the group, gojo satoru. and you, also the stupidest take the bait just to prove a point only to get the best missionary youâve ever had. which, also got called slut by your friend.
CAST(CH) ME OUTSIDE? (HOW âBOUT DAT PU$$Y?) : he is dumb and got cast, he is also horny while getting cast. whatâs the worse? he canât move to bend you over or you ride him dumb? because, like gojo said, as his fwb, you have to take care of him.
THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND : the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brainâ sum : a nerd, thatâs what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date youâ no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet whoâs get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.
I CAN FUCK TREAT YOU BETTER : you and gojo were all alone, no geto around, just the two of youâ all alone, in the bed, kissing, make out under the glisten of the dim lights, under the blanket.
DICKLARATION OF LOVE : once upon a horny night, a lonely dorm night turns steamy when an unexpected visitor crashes her private momentâ masturbation. the usual no-strings hookup spirals into some cheap dicklaration of love.
nanny : when you're babysitting teenager satoru gojo.
my little virgin : your used to be upperclassmen who happened to be your friends-with-benefits teaching you how to kiss, also the one who took your virginity.
ALL HAIL TO THE GHOST : bent over, bent down and said cheese to the camera, click! one, two, three... another, cheese! it was fun, haunting down by a ghost,
R. SUKUNA
i dare you : when you wanna break-up with him and he reminds you that there's no break-up in your relationship.
time to confess : when you're having a crush on your best friend's twins.
jealous, jealous, jealous: your boyfriend got jealous because some underclassmen were helping you carry your bag.
S. GETO
LITTLE LOOSE TO SAVE THOUSAND : your roommate âbout to show you have to make easy-money and become rich in one night, wonder how? no? have no idea? probably not. but geto has lots of lamps hanging around his head and heâs about to show you how easy it is to make money, psst. . . you may not be able to sit properly afterâ but you donât know, yet.
BLESSED BY THY CLEAVAGE, AMENNN : âdaddy got them for me yesterday.â you said. and daddy you mean is geto suguru and shoko is your friend. and friendship so fucked up you let her sit on your face while geto got his dick inside you. it is the power of your tit$? maybe.. (feat. shoko ieiri)
SCREAM FOR AMNESIA! : three minus one... itâs only you and geto for a few days. gojo is nowhere near, away for mission. and you still have the audacity to miss your other boyfriend, gojo? donât worry, geto here to remind you.
GOJO : NOWHERE TO BE FOUND : is it acceptable to geto when you have him all to yourself but still moping around for gojo whoâs away for a mission? absolutely not. but. . . is it acceptable for him to remind you who you are with? absolutely yes. so yeah, gojo is nowhere to be found, while geto? he is between your legs.
SAY HI TO THE CAMERA : stay quiet and keep him warm and hard, while he is playing video games, thatâs the order. but it seems like too much hardness making you lose control of your body.
YOU FâCK HATE EMO BOYS : you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your bodyâ if they dâck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys? feat. k. choso
BOOO! KNIFE TO MEET YOU! : a serial killer on the loose and he hunts the city down, looking for a pretty little thing. sooo, you better run, hide, go to the closet, go under the bed, find a place you can hide from the stranger before he kills you.
YUM : he is your step-brother who just got home after years of living in the city.
enemies with benefits : you and suguru are enemies, you're supposed to hate each other, right?
F. TOJI
MAY MY SOUL REST IN PEACE, AMEN! : ever since his wife divorce him for another man, toji never was with anyone, even in having intimacy, he never had any desire to kiss, touch, even fuck anyone, until he have you on his lap, riding him in one of the stall in the club.
PAWNOUND SHOP NOW ACCEPTING ALL MAJOR HOLES : CASH, CREDIT, CLIT : with your ex-boyfriendâs expensive watch in hand, you are ready for a quick cash, also for revenge because, how dare he cheated on you? but. . . are you also ready for a quickie?
WARM, EVERYTHING & NICE : tojiâs lazy ass couldnât even bother to buy a heater when itâs already winter and he wonât even care if his girlfriend is freezing to death, he better find another way to keep you warm, does he?
babysitter's punishment : toji caught you when you were trying to steal something from him.
a brat is all i want : he has a breeding kink, and youâll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.
K. CHOSO
HUMP, HUMP, LOVELY LITTLE HUMP : you and choso kamo are supposed to spend the night just to enjoy some wine and a calm atmosphere deep inside the forest of the school ground, but it seems like the half-curse starts feeling a little bit too human..
I FâCK HATE EMO BOYS : you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your bodyâ if they dâck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys? feat. s. geto
K. NANAMI
daddy's car : when you steal your step-father's car and try to have sex in his car only for him to be the one who's fucking you
TROUBLEMAKERS : he hates students like you so he fucked you.
therapist's wet dream : you need a therapist, with all the sick things in your head and luckily for you, nanami comes to the rescue, except he wants nothing but to corrupt you.
I. SHOKO
kawaii, hentai, boobies : it just happened that the girl hated satoru gojo so much that day, so she decided to give his girlfriendâ you, a little fun, on her couch.
BLESSED BY THY CLEAVAGE, AMENNN : âdaddy got them for me yesterday.â you said. and daddy you mean is geto suguru and shoko is your friend. and friendship so fucked up you let her sit on your face while geto got his dick inside you. it is the power of your tit$? maybe.. (feat. geto suguru)
EXTRA GUNK
HOW TO FUCK 101 : he is having a wet dream of you, so you decided to make virgin megumi fushiguro's dream come true
HAIBARA 'S LITTLE SISTER (NANAMI, SUGURU, SATORU) : when your brother asks his best friend to look after you while he go visit his girlfriend.
PROPER HANDJOB feat. sukuna r.
SOON COME THE GUNK-ERS : H. HIGURUMA. K. SHIU. I. TAKUMA
likes, comments, and reblogs are well-appreciated | 2025 Š cumironi
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FEATURING: caleb/xia yizhou x non!mc female reader
where you get injured during a paired hunterâs association mission with mc. when you realize sheâs hurt too, you keep quiet about your own condition and turn all your strength towards getting her to safety, because caleb needs her alive. because she has always been calebâs first priority. because calebâs entire life has been tailored around keeping her safe.
because, maybe, in another life, caleb would have chosen you. but in this one, you already know better.
CONTENT: 5.1k words, ANGST (i am warning you), ALLLL hurt VERY LITTLE comfort (this is your second warning), toxic dependency and kind of a savior complex on readerâs end, slight gore and body horror, profanity, blood, injuries, arguments, childhood!bestfriend caleb and non!mc character study, literary themes, mc is your partner in the association
NOTE: this is based on jeff buckleyâs heart-wrenching song: lover, you should have come over (go listen as you read đ) . ALSO if youâve read a tale of two cities by charles dickens, i was highly inspired by sydney carton and lucie manette when writing reader and calebâs relationship â so NOTE that reader is the ultimate yearnmaxxer. she has a savior complex and depends on caleb like sydney is towards lucie so their relationship is NOT MEANT TO BE HEALTHY!!!!! plz heed that warning before reading!!!!
masterlist
ITâS NEVER OVER / ALL MY BLOOD FOR THE SWEETNESS OF HER LAUGHTER / ITâS NEVER OVER / SHE IS THE TEAR THAT HANGS INSIDE MY SOUL, FOREVER.
The poet writing out your life taught you very early on that you were never first when it comes to Caleb.Â
You can picture the way the elegist holds the pen, etching away and gradually crafting your star-crossed narrative: theyâve scrawled all the words with bloodied ink. Ripped the edges with laughter, left the paper to yellow with age. A Romanticistâs dark fantasy â a traditional ending that belonged in one of Shakespeareâs tragedies, a cruel fate subjected to you, a side character left to eventually rot away beneath the blinking moonlight.Â
Unfortunately, you love Caleb. Fortunately, you love Caleb. You love him because heâs Caleb. You hate him because heâs Caleb. You love him the way Sydney Carton loved Lucie Manette, when he clawed out his own pulsating heart from his dying ribs and willingly served it to her on a silver platter. All without asking for a single thing in return, because she saved him from a life of disgrace. He was already withering, and she rekindled him from ashes into a blazing heap of fire, and that salvation was more than enough to grant her his beautiful devotion.
You think that if Caleb asked for your heart, youâd plate it within seconds â savoring whatever he chose to grow in its place. Youâd let him plant asiatic apples â his favorite â inside your ribcage, and let him caramelize them and feed them to you without a second thought. If you struggled to breathe and cough up the bloodied seeds, you think thatâs even better. Because itâs Caleb, and you hate him, but worst of all, you love him. And they go hand in hand, your love and hatred, so much so that it hurts.Â
MC is a real sweetheart. A pretty thing who brought a noble reason for becoming a UNICORNS Hunter to the Association. You tried so hard to loathe her, you really did, but all your efforts came back futile. Because in reality, why would you hate MC? Because of Caleb? Itâs not like she forces him to do anything â he willingly dotes on her. Sometimes she even gets upset because he gets a little too overbearing. Everything Caleb does for her is of his own accord. You are never the first person to be called when things go wrong. Never the first to be worried for. Not the first to be protected the second everything goes awry.
That place has always belonged to her, but Caleb granted her that place of his own free will. MC had never meant any malice towards you, because it was hardly her fault that Caleb chose her. Any hint of animosity was all but a carefully constructed illusion in your own head, because there was none. She had been nothing but kind to you. A real sweetheart.
The necklace around Calebâs throat is proof of her place; a thin chain, dull silver, worn over by years of being grasped at without a second thought. The crystallized red apple and those dog tags that glint under the sunlight: a constant, unintentional reminder of her ownership and everything that youâre not. Youâve watched him reach for it whenever heâs anxious, fingers curled around it when orders from the Fleet are too heavy, and when his fear slips through the cracks of his carefully crafted composure.
Maybe thatâs something you can hate her for, because that necklace serves as a painful admonition and a physical manifestation of all your hurt. You were there before that necklace. That damned necklace. Before any ranks. Before MC became your partner in the Association, another mocking reminder of where you stood within your twisted narrative. Before all your obligations grew teeth and knew how to bite, and sooner or later would swallow you whole.
You remember it now. The memory comes to you, unbidden and sharp and warm all at once, a wilted daffodil resting within the depths of your thoughts that refuses to leave.
It was summer that day, late summer. You remember the season because the apples were in full bloom and Caleb had been counting the days down until he could harvest the fruits that one of Josephineâs trees bore. He promised you that heâd make apple pie just like how she makes it, and you just giggled and told him not to set the fire alarm off again. He said that he never recalled doing such a thing.
The sky was blue, and the apples were a perfect shade of red, and you wished they would respectively stay blue and red forever. For those colors to never darken or fade, and hoping that one day, they would merge and settle under Calebâs eyes. An almost impossible shade of ultraviolet that you constantly yearned for.Â
MC wasnât there. You donât remember why, and frankly, you donât care. All that mattered, for once, was that day belonged entirely to you. Out of all the afternoons that you spent as a trio, it had only been the two of you that day. Yes, this was a summer memory that was only yours and his to keep, for you to fondly keep in a locket deep within your ribcage for all eternity.Â
That day, you were younger â too young to know how things would end â and sitting cross-legged on the dewy grass of his backyard, the blades damp against your palms. Caleb sits across from you, knees pulled up, and sleeves rolled to his elbows, eagerly waiting. The air smelled like sun-warmed leaves and fruits, like Caleb, and the poets were feeling creative, basking in the cooling wind the summer brought.
You had brought him a gift, you said, and he watched you with an expectant shade of curiosity as you reached into your pocket and pulled out two thin lengths of braided cord, a perfect mix of ivory and crimson. The bracelets were uneven, dyed by your shaky hands, and lightly fraying at the ends. Youâd made them the night before, fingers clumsy and hands shaking as you followed the step-by-step tutorial playing on your phone. âOh? What do you have for me here?â
âTheyâre matching bracelets. One for you, and one for me,â you mutter sheepishly, like explaining mightâve lessened the embarrassment tinting your cheeks. âI know theyâre kind of stupid, butââ
Caleb leans forward at that. âHey, theyâre not stupid.â
You look up at him, surprised. âYou promise?â
âPinky promise,â he grins, and your throat tightens, his words like music to your ears, crescendoing into a harmonious choir the moment that Caleb willingly holds out his wrist for you. The way your heart thumped as your fingers brushed against his skin made you fear that he could hear its erratic beating, and the blood rushing in your eardrums. Maybe he didnât. Or maybe he did, and chose not to say anything. Heâs always been able to read you like an open book.
âThere, done.â The bracelet rested just beneath the bone of his right wrist, the color vivid against his skin. When you finished, you leaned back to admire your work, pride blooming and heart full with his words, despite yourself. âNow, when you inevitably forget me in five years when youâre suuuper popular and cool at the DAA, you wonât be able to pretend like you didnât know me.â
He laughs at that, bright and unguarded, and you wish that this day would never end. That Caleb and his bracelet and everything about him would just settle somewhere deep within your chest, finding shelter within the crevices of your ribcage. Or maybe you can find a home within his own body. You didnât mind either outcome. âI donât think thatâs possible. Besides, youâre already way cooler than me.â
Then, without another word, he reaches for your hand. âWaitââ
Too late. He fumbles with the second bracelet, your matching half, and knots it around your wrist. It sits a little too tight, and youâre certain youâll get rope burn once you begin to outgrow it, but you could hardly care less. He puts his palm against your own and intertwines your fingers against his, and your mind sings at the contact. âThere. Now weâre even.â
You look down at your hand clasped against his own and mutter, âYouâre never taking this off.âÂ
He smiles, saluting you with his free hand, and your eyes soften. Youâve marked each other with these bracelets. His hand is so, so warm, and Caleb is still so beautiful, like how everything should be. âCopy that.â
That day was an anomaly.Â
You were matching bracelets with Caleb. Not him and MC. You and Caleb. Heâd let you leave a permanent mark on him in a way that MC hadnât, even though she ended up giving him that necklace years later. The sky shouldnât have been such a beautiful shade of blue, and the apples shouldnât have been so red, but they were. Caleb shouldnât have been so boyishly pretty that day, looking over your visage so beautifully with those violet eyes, but he was. Everything was so perfectly aligned that day that you sometimes wondered if you had just imagined it all, as if he were but a mere phantasm in the breeze. A trick of the light to convince yourself that he was once yours.
Oh, but that moment was as real as it got. MCâs necklace may have come later, but those bracelets were yours first. Caleb was real, and that moment with him had been the one thing that you could call yours. Undeniably, indisputably yours.
But that was before the explosion.Â
Like everything that you once could call your own, Caleb kept true to his word and never took the bracelet off, until it had been cruelly ripped from your grasp by the laughing elegist and the hands of fate. The facts were clearly written: Caleb survived the tragedy, Josephine did not. Caleb was now the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, and his right arm had been reinforced with a metallic prosthetic. His veins became wires tangled red, green, and blue, and the bracelet was lost with the debris.Â
His right arm was no longer yours. A part of Calebâs heart was no longer yours.
The arm you had fastened the bracelet around could no longer feel. The hand you held that summer afternoon can no longer experience your warmth, now cold with the false promise of permanence. The arm that had worn your mark so easily until it hadnât, under the blink of an eye. You never said it out loud, because acknowledging the thought felt monstrous, almost sacrilegious, but sometimes, you truly wondered if you cursed him.Â
Like the marks you leave on the things you loved most were meant to waste away with time, and eventually vanish.
The sky isnât blue anymore. Itâs a dull shade of grey today, actually. That summer day no longer smells sweet but more like something decaying. The apples are long gone and rotten right to the core, but Calebâs eyes are still that haunting shade of amethyst and still everything you love.Â
Because some things, apparently, endure.
Youâre partnered with MC on an Association mission today, but this particular mission has ties with Skyhaven. Skyhaven meant the Farspace Fleet. And of course, the Fleet meant seeing Caleb before the Association sent you to take care of the next bout of wanderers or whatever they were ready to throw at you today. It was rare for Linkon and Skyhavenâs affairs to intertwine, even though they ultimately shared similar end goals. At the end of the day, they were still interconnected pillars that wanted to get rid of wanderers. Hence why you were here.
You feel inside your pocket, making sure the box is intact. The mission briefing ran much longer than it shouldâve, and people from the Fleet filed out in pairs and clusters, none of them sparing the members of the Hunters Association a second glance. Boots echo across the floors, and you linger inside the room, looking for the familiar set of violet eyes, a ghost of a smile forming on your face once they meet yours.
Caleb.Â
âHey,â he says, and you know that if you were MC, that greeting wouldâve been followed with his endearing nickname for her, âpipsâ. Unfortunately, you werenât MC, and you werenât his pipsqueak. What exactly were you to him? You didnât know. You were just⌠you.Â
Was that enough for him?
âItâs rare seeing you in the Fleet. I wish you werenât here at all, though. It gets real crazy here sometimes,â He ruffles your hair, and you couldnât even return the action because of his big, stupid Colonel hat. âDâya need something before the mission? My good luck charm, maybe?â
âHmm, I dunno. Is your charm really all that good?â You smile up at him, his pretty eyes gazing into yours, and suddenly, the banter almost makes everything flicker with normalcy. Caleb was here again. You were here with him, and the stars are almost aligning, because the world, inexplicably, hasnât taken everything from you yet. âI have a gift for you, actually.â
âA gift? Whatâs the occasion?â He asks as you slowly reach into your pocket, fingers brushing the fabric and metal. It makes you hesitate, like you were sixteen all over again that summer day and were afraid of Calebâs reaction towards your handmade, woven bracelets. The soft beam on his face this time around made it easier on your nerves, though. âMy birthdayâs stiiill pretty far away, you know.âÂ
You exhale slowly, pulling out the box under his watchful gaze. âSomething I made,â you murmur, âAgain.â
The box opens, and your gift is finally on full display beneath the blinking fluorescent lights of the Fleet. There are two bracelets inside, woven crimson and ivory, just like before. Anyone could still tell that itâs handmade, but the handiwork is neater, and the thread is no longer fraying. You got rid of your matching half after the explosion, vowing to only wear it if Caleb had his part of the pair. The expression on his face is unreadable, and it makes your heart thump with apprehension all over again.Â
âI thoughtââ you continue, staring at the box instead of at him, âthat maybe we donât get to keep things forever, but we can try to, anyway.â
âYou made another set, after I lost mine whenâŚâ He trails off, and you nod. Itâs the closest thing youâve gotten to talking about the explosion, and Calebâs jaw tightens. You knew he was no longer sixteen, and you donât even know if heâs still entirely Caleb, the same one who held your hand that late summer afternoon, but that mark you left on him was still yours. Even as the dog tags beneath his uniform serve as a painful reminder that he will never be truly yours entirely. âPut it on me, again. Just like old times.â
He wordlessly holds out his wrist for you â the left one this time â and he doesnât miss your painful gaze towards his bionic arm. You fasten it around his left wrist, the only arm that can feel anything anymore, and the mark is seared once again, even though the sky is still gray and the apples are long spoiled.
Despite all that time, Caleb is still beautiful, and that has never changed.
Then, he reaches for you, taking your wrist and gently tying the second bracelet there. If you squint, you could probably still see the marks left behind by the previous one. His fingers brush against your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch, and his tongue is pressed lightly to his teeth, like heâs afraid of making the knot too tight like before. âDo you remember what you said that day? How you predicted that Iâd forget you in five years when Iâm âsuper popular and coolâ once I was at the DAA?â
You meekly nod as he finishes the knot. Itâs a perfect one this time. Not too tight to give you any rope burns, and not too loose that it would fall off. âWell, I think my words still stand. I most certainly never forgot you, youâre still way cooler than me, and definitely way cooler than anyone there.â
With that, his eyes softly whisper against your own. You look at each other â really look at each other this time â and his damned violet eyes catch the light, familiar and unbearable and intoxicating, all at once. You think of all those blue summer skies and Josephineâs red apples and all the ways those colors can merge into something sadder, yet far more alluring. A mixture that rests under Calebâs eyes.
Your foreheads are nearly touching, and his breath stutters as you take his mechanical hand into your own, caressing the metal that took away your mark and a part of Calebâs humanity. He pulls you closer with his free hand â the one with your newly made mark â almost like he was luring you in with his Gravity EVOL. But Caleb didnât need to utilize his EVOL to pull you in; he did it all naturally. Him and his stupid good luck charm.
âYou come back to me,â he quietly whispers, his breath hot against your own. If you listened closely enough, you could hear his erratically beating heart. You werenât Calebâs pipsqueak, but you could do all of this to him. You had this effect on him. This moment was yours, and you were going to selfishly savor it. Replay this scene until it one day swallows you whole. âYou promise.â
For a single moment, the world finally narrows to just the two of you. The Fleet and the Hunterâs Association were just background noise. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes. You could feel the heat of your words just before you speak, just before he leans in and finally closes the gap. âIââ
âCaleb!â
MCâs voice cuts through the tension like a carefully positioned blade, and you immediately step back. Caleb withdraws his hand from the back of your neck like it stung, as if it never belonged there in the first place. The bracelet resting against your wrist feels hot to the touch. You wonder if it feels the same for Caleb, or if heâd eventually take it off sooner or later. MCâs looking at you expectantly, eyes bright and unaware of what just happened. âTheyâre calling us in. Are you ready?â
âYeah,â you declare weakly, breath still stuck in your throat, something youâre unable to swallow. âIâm coming.â
The realization dawns on you faster than anything when MC offers you a big smile. You were right â from the very beginning, you didnât hate MC. You never did. Sheâs kind, sweet, and constantly has your back during missions. No, you were angry at her presence. How it was practically impossible to hang out with just Caleb. It was always you, Caleb, and her. How the duo could never stay as a duo, no matter what. How your moments with Caleb can be so easily ripped from your grasp by MC because she was here first. Of course, it was always her first.Â
Caleb needs to keep her safe first. To protect her first. She was his priority first. This was the status quo, and you had no say in changing the rules that were already set in stone a long time ago. Still, as you catch a glimpse of Calebâs wrist before you leave, you make a silent vow to yourself, to the crimson and ivory resting on your own wrist.Â
If you cursed Caleb with your first present, you silently pray that this time around, it will curse you instead of him.
The mission turned into a shitshow faster than you had initially anticipated.
You were so outnumbered from the very beginning that you wondered what the hell the Association was thinking when sending you two on this mission. Was this a fucking death trap specifically designed for you and MC? For everyone else dispatched here? Thereâs so much blood on the floor you could hardly distinguish your own from any wanderer that you had defeated.
Another wanderer goes down, collapsing onto the debris with a sound that rattles your bones and shoots directly to your ringing eardrums. Your sword is immediately knocked away from your hands by the next target, and it falls onto the ground with a deafening clatter. You need backup, and you need it now. You think about who to call â you would have called Xavier, but your Hunterâs watch is long broken, and heâs probably just as preoccupied as you two.Â
The entire situation was so pitiful that you could have laughed if it werenât for how fucked over you both were.
You look towards MC, and your eyes widen as she stumbles, her breath staggering and legs shaking. Youâre already moving, just before she hits the ground. âMC!â
âHey, hey, stay with meââ you scream out, dropping to your knees beside her. You use all your strength and bring the two of you to a nearby tree, praying that all the shrubs and bushes cover you from the wandererâs sight. Sheâs breathing, shallow but steady, eyes unfocused as she tries her hardest to meet your gaze. You prop her against the trunk and cup her face, trying to keep her awake. âPlease, fuckââ
Sheâs injured, but sheâs alive. Good. Thatâs good. You just need to keep her alive long enough to get to a safe zone, or until help comes. Something warm spreads beneath your hunterâs uniform when you shift your weight, but you ignore the excruciating agony in your abdomen and focus on MC. A stab wound in your core. You donât even know where it came from, and the adrenaline had masked the pain until now. Still, youâve felt worse. Way worse than this. Right now, you just need to keep her alive, becauseâ
Because of Caleb. Because Caleb needs her alive.
âYou come back to me,â His words briefly echo in your ears, and it makes your eyes sting with tears. You donât know if you can. âYou promise.â
Youâve never broken any promises when it comes to Caleb, and heâs never broken any, either. But, technically, this time around, you didnât promise him anything because MC had interrupted you before you could utter any words out. So, you didnât exactly owe him anything. Your life was second to hers right now.
Sorry, Caleb.
âWe need to move,â you say, hauling her arm over your shoulder. This spot was not going to be safe for long, and you didnât have your sword. If any wanderer spots you, thatâd be the end of your narrative. And you canât have it end yet, not when MC isnât safe. âCan you stand?â
She groans, teetering between a fine line of consciousness and unconsciousness. âYouâre â youâre bleeding.â
âIâm fine,â you say automatically, even though youâre surprised that she noticed the wet blood staining the abdomen of your uniform. MC is a real sweetheart. Always thinking about other people when sheâs equally as fucked over as you. Thatâs why you never truly hated her. How could you have the heart to do so?
She blinks up at you, trying to focus. âNo, youâre not. I can see right through you.â
âWe donât have time for this,â you grit your teeth and force yourself upright despite your core screaming out in a horrid bout of pain. You bite your lip so hard that it draws blood, bringing MC up with you and ignoring her protests. You remember during the mission briefing that a safe zone was about⌠half a mile up north. Every staggering step sends a sharp reminder throughout your body, but you stubbornly donât slow. âCaleb needs you out.â
MC shakes her head weakly. âWhat about you?â
You donât answer, and she continues, a huff of air almost sounding like a laugh. âHe loves you, you know.â
Her words make you freeze, and you turn to look at her. âCares about you⌠a lot. Donât just think about me.â
Itâs hard not to, you want to say, but the words never leave your tongue. If Caleb had to choose, in a life-or-death situation, whether to save me or you, I think we all know the answer to that a little too well.
You make it to a clearing in the forest, and her grip on you suddenly tightens, enough to make you stop in your tracks, despite yourself. âStop,â she says, practically pleading, panic creeping into her voice. âYou canât keep going like this.â
âOh,â she looks down, really takes a second to see your condition, and her expression crumples, muttering out your name in concern. âYouâre hurt. Youâre really hurt.â
âI said Iâm fine,â you repeat, but your voice cracks, and your composure is breaking.Â
She tries to pull away from you. âPut me down, this isnât worth itââ
âNo,â you say sharply. âIf we waitââ
âYou could pass out,â she says, tears welling in her eyes and fingers digging into your sleeve. âYouâre not okay, please, you donât have to do thisââ
You donât say what youâre thinking, but your answer is already written all over your face. You do have to do this, actually. This was never a question. The bracelet on your wrist feels even warmer than before. MC reaches for you, fumbling with her gear with her remaining strength. Her Hunterâs watch and her gun. The watchâs screen was still lit, and her gun had a few rounds inside.
âHere, use my watch. I canât⌠hold on for much longer,â her eyes are glazing over, on the brink of passing out, and you place her gun in your holster and the watch around your wrist, trying to keep the both of you upright. âCall for help, but promise that you⌠think about yourself, too.âÂ
You swallow the lump in your throat and meekly nod, taking her watch. Donât say I promise to her, because youâre certain that youâll break it. And you donât make promises that you canât keep. âYeah. Sure.â
She smiles at that and goes limp in your arms. You suck in a breath, eyes flitting all over the screen as you thought about who to call. You try Xavierâs line and give up after a few rings. You just hope that heâs alright. Finally, your finger hovers over Calebâs line. You know damn well that heâd respond, especially since this was MCâs watch, and not yours. The speaker rings once before the line opens. âCaleb, I need evac. Now.â
âStatus.â His voice comes back sharp and controlled, and you realize that this wasnât Caleb right now, but Colonel Caleb.Â
âMCâs down, andââ I took a hit, and Iâm bleeding out too. Youâre unable to force those words out in between your labored breaths. ââshe took a hit from a wanderer, and⌠Iâm trying to take us to the nearby safe zone. Iâm five minutes out.â
The world tilts as you haul MCâs weight higher against your shoulder. Your vision blurs at the edges, but you lock your jaw and keep moving. âWhat the hell happened?â
âItâs a shitshow out here, Caleb. I donât have my sword, and she took a hit when I wasnât lookingââ
âWhen you werenât looking?â His voice cuts through the line, tone hardening. You can hear him moving, probably running to his plane. âYouâre supposed to cover for her.â
âI was,â you snap, the words tearing out of you like the flesh from your abdomen when the wanderer had stabbed you. âI was there, Caleb, I triedââ
âThen why the hell is she bleeding out?â
This was exactly what you expected. Maybe you shouldnât have called him at all. His words hit harder than any wound youâve sustained, and you stagger, barely managing to keep your footing â barely managing to keep MC upright with you. The pain is blooming, sharp and practically blinding, white-hot and so fucking unforgiving, and for a moment, you nearly cry out.
But you donât. You tighten your grip on her instead.
âDamn it. The safe zone near you â Iâm about ten minutes away from it. Can you make it there?â
You can hear it even through the static. The fear in his voice was raw, frantic, and all-consuming. The fear of losing MC eclipses everything else, swallowing whole whatever concern might have been meant for you. If MC was right â and Caleb really did love you â then his love was not enough to overcome the instinct carved into him long before you ever even entered his life.
Because she was here first. And you were not. And thatâs just the way things were.
The thought makes something hysterical bubble in your chest. You laugh, or at least try to, but it breaks apart into an ugly cough, and more crimson stains your uniform.
âYeah,â you manage out. âI think.â
You donât know how you conjured up the strength to make it to the evac zone, but you do. The world narrows after your call began with Caleb, and the lights blur together into a pale white smear. Her weight grows heavier in your arms as she stirs, like she knew something was wrong with your staggering footsteps.
âYou come back to me,â
âPromise that you⌠think about yourself, too.â
Iâm sorry. To both of you.
Everyone finally notices you and MC, and your senses finally dull as your fingers slip from MCâs sleeve, letting someone else take her. Throughout all the clamor, someone begins assisting you, but you canât feel anything. Trembling, your hand falls against your wrist, and the bracelet is still there. You think of Calebâs left wrist and how it matched your own, and how that was the greatest salvation you couldâve asked for. You think about his right arm and how he never got to wear that first bracelet again after it got destroyed in the explosion. You wonder, briefly, if heâll notice that this time, heâs going to be the one without the matching pair.
Caleb never once asks if you were alright.
His voice is still coming through MCâs watch â urgent and relieved that your location says that youâve made it to the evac zone. Even though someone took her away already, you hear him telling her to hold on, and that heâs just a few minutes away with his plane. You smile faintly at that. Of course he is. He always makes it in time for her.
The poets and elegists from every era are calling out to you as they draft the final line of your narrative, and their hymns and elegies are beautiful. Your vision finally gives in, and the sky above is still a flat, unremarkable gray, nothing like that impossibly blue summer afternoon all those years ago. You suppose thatâs fitting. Things were never meant to stay beautiful forever. The apples are no longer red. Theyâve rotted a long time ago. Maybe Calebâs eyes are no longer that same shade of ultraviolet, too. You wish you looked a little longer into his eyes, one last time, just to make sure.
The poet writing out your life taught you very early on that you were never first when it comes to Caleb. Maybe, in another life, Caleb would have chosen you over her. But this was not that life.
And even then, you think, loving him â loving him in the way you did â was still worth it.
Even now.
Especially now.
I FEEL TOO YOUNG TO HOLD ON / AND MUCH TOO OLD TO BREAK FREE AND RUN / TOO DEAF, DUMB AND BLIND TO SEE THE DAMAGE IâVE DONE / SWEET LOVER, YOU SHOULDâVE COME OVER.
update 1/28/2026: as this fic got so much more love than i expected (thank u everyone for all ur sweet comments btw i love you all <3) i am considering making a possible sequel in calebâs perspective! if you would like to be added to the taglist then like this post and i shall tag u i ever follow through :D
end note: iâve seen a lot of caleb x non!mc reader fics that try and vilify mc or caleb and i just wanna emphasize how that was NEVER my intention with this fic! i tried my best to portray calebâs turmoil over his entire existence revolving around protecting mc and the way he tries to make room for the reader, too â even though in the end, his innate instinct to save mc was what got the reader killed. his irrational fear of losing mc after years of protecting her was the reason why he overlooked the readerâs condition, but i promiseee that he mostly didnât do it on purpose (even tho ik he was a bit of a dick in the ending its ok the readerâs ghost haunts him after she dies). his love for non!mc IS requited, but unfortunately was overshadowed by his devotion to mc, which was what ultimately doomed her in the end. so plz lmk ur thoughts on this!! đľâđŤđľâđŤ
@kamieow 2026. reblogs are greatly appreciated â thank you so much for reading! <3
âśď¸ď¸ď¸ď¸ AITA for fucking both of the Gojo twins?
synopsis . In which you get fed up with Sato (fratjo) for playing around with you and unintentionally get involved with his identical twin brother Toru (nerdjo), not knowing theyâre simply two sides of the same coin.
content . afab!reader, porn with decent plot, messy relationship(s), fratjoâs an asshole in the beginning, bluntness, pervy!nerdjo, eventual threesome, degrading, oral sex, first time squirting & then doing it multiple times, getting caught, surprising dynamics, praise, pussy slapping, getting put in a headlock, confessions, filthy dirty talk, jealousy, marathon sex (gulp), spit, slightly bimbo!reader, choking, nerdjo is feral, full nelson, edging, getting passed around, frajoâs a voyeur, filth, slight angst, cum eating/swallowing, some cuckholding(?), masturbation, a silly ending, etc.
word count . 11.4k | author's note: this ended up being wayyyy longer than i initially thought it would be and itâs overly freaked the fuck out. hope you enjoy!! banner art by Rororogi Mogera. (not proofreadâsorry in advance, truly)
In your defense, you didn't think he would care.
Sato Gojoâesteemed member of Sigma Chi, infamously known for his commitment issues, and noted to be the campus playboyâwas the last person you thought would care about you sleeping with his twin brother.
Hell, he's also the last person who expected that same brother to be able to get this far with you. Toru is the shyest, dorkiest, and nerdiest part of the Gojo family, what could he possibly have done to catch your eye?
Sato had done his best to keep you away from and unaware of his six-second-younger brother's existence too. Yet somehow, here he is walking in on the two of you fucking in his bed.
Less upset at the sight and more confused, the only thing he wants to know is... what the fuck led up to this pairing?
ââ
For months and months prior to that, it'd been the same thing between you and Sato.
âShe doesnât mean anything to me, baby. You know youâre my favorite,â Heâd say, cooing you with that manipulatively charming voice of his after youâd asked him about yet another woman he was talking to.
You weren't sure why you kept going back to him. He never told you how he felt about you unless he was inside youâand even then youâre certain those feelings were all sex-based and moderately untrue.
Yet something about him kept drawing you back in.
And if you had to guess what exactly it was...
âFuuck, yâlike that donât you?â Heâd groan, having one big hand clasped around your throat as he plowed you into the mattress. Sato rarely ever took his time during sex, too eager to make sure you cum & keep up his reputation of being a good fuck. âLike the way my cock kisses that sweet spot, huh?â
The rhythmic sound of his pelvis smack smack smacking! against your ass echoes throughout the room at a pitch almost louder than your sapped moans. âMhmm,â You'd hummed in response, fingernails dug into the bedsheets below.
You couldn't bring yourself to think about all the other women that's been in this same exact position before you when his cock was far too busy gliding in and out of your soaking pussy. The same sheets your fingers are clawing at is also clasped in between your teeth tightly, drool wetting up the fabric pathetically due to how good you felt.
Only to be rudely interrupted by his hand gripping at your neck tighter and then tugging the upper half of your body allll the way upâhis chest pressing into your back while his dick massages the gushiest spot inside you. âDonât do that,â Sato huffs with that shit-eating grin on his face, âSpeak up, pretty girl. I couldn't hear you.â
âUhuhh, yes,â You pant, tongue beginning to dangle out of your mouth all whorishly, âI love it, Sato.â
Cocky like always, he'd let off that amused scoff and then nip at your ear playfully, âYeahh, I know you do. Jusâ canât get enough of me.â
Thinking back again, he had the biggest ego youâd ever seen.
Sato was tenderly humping the rest of his thick cock into you while you were nice and close, just to realize after the first few thrusts that you were trying to inch yourself away from himâyour moans getting airier by the second.
His smile widened, âHah, whereâre you goinâ?â He'd only made you cum three times since the two of you got here. Surely that wasn't enough to have you acting like this already. âLook at you, trying to run from me now," Sato scoffed with faux bitterness.
You barely got a moment to process what he was doing before you choked.
Warm lips pressing against your ear, âCâmon, I jusâ want one more outtaâ you,â He purred, his arm slow to wrap around your neck while his bulking muscles pressed into the center of your throat. Whatever oxygen was on its way to your head all but died out as the man put you into a bullying chokehold and then flexed.
Your cunt squeaked juicily around him and his cockhead nudged in deeper because of the hold he had on you, otherwise rendering your body unable to escape.
That was one of many reasons why you always ran back to him. If Sato Gojo didn't know how to do anything else right, he damn sure knew how to fuck.
âMhmm, thatâs it, baby." His voice was huskier against your eardrums now and you felt your body shuddering with a sense of numbness as something slicker oozed around his shaft. "Take that fuckinâ cockâjuuust like that.â
His thrust became slower while he held you in place and you'd never felt so full in your life. It wasn't until he suddenly snapped up into you that all air left your lungs and your eyes crossed.
Whatever sound you let out was beyond pathetic and only followed by a desperate, âSâtoo much,â that he could barely hear.
Rolling his eyes, he repeated the motion a few more times at a steady pace, letting you adjust to being arched and folded up how he wants you. âMy dramatic girl, acting like you haven't been taking it just fine," He reminded you.
You almost believed him for a moment there until his free hand came snaking around your torso to press against your lower abdomenâright over the bulge his fat cock had created against your skinâand applying an egregious amount of pressure.
âMâgonna cum, Sato,â You cried out as his fingers slithered down to nudge against your clit. Never a firm rub or anything like that since he felt like his cock alone was enough to work what he wanted out of you.
Heâd smile all victoriously and whisper, âThat's it? Don't tell me you're still too scared to squirt on me?â
Truth be told, that was the one thing he couldnât do for some reason.
He never said anything but he thinks maybe youâre just one of those women who need a little more effort put into in order to make you squirt. More effort of which he damn sure doesnât feel like putting in.
Four orgasms in a row? Thatâs fine, he can do that no problem. Making you squirt? As badly as he wants to deep down inside, he just canât.
You ended up leaving a creamy mess around his cock but it's not the spurting stream of wetness he was hoping for. After letting you tremble out of your high, he's slow with the way he unwraps his arms from around you.
You fall forward onto the bed and let out a heavy breath before smiling wearily in relief. No other guy on campus ever managed to make you cum even once so of course you didn't think much of the fact that Sato couldn't make you squirt.
Hell, you were unknowingly on the same page with himâthinking you might've needed extra effort put in for that kinda release. Which was fine, you didn't need that much from him. The fact that he could make you cum back to back was more than enough in your book.
Not his though.
Sato hated it. He hated how he couldn't make you squirtâthe fact burned at his ego and wounded his pride greatly. He's made other women do it so he doesn't understand what the problem is. There were some nights where he wondered if maybe he was doing something wrong with you. Or maybe you'd found someone else who couldâ
He unknowingly scoffs at his thoughts, shuffling out of the bed and swiping up the nearest clean sweats to slip into. Who was he kidding? There isn't one other person on campus you'd go to over him.
And if he couldn't make you squirt, he knows there's no one else that could.
Amid his deep thoughts, you happen to look over and catch the way those white brows of his are neatly knitting together. He didn't even realize how his true feelings on the matter were written all over his face.
Your eyes had ran over him a couple times, pondering on all the scratch marks in various places. Places that your hands haven't touched.
And that's how the routine was with the two of you; high tension all throughout the day, let him fuck you 'til all your senses went numb, and then fade into quietness with little to talk about since Sato doesn't deem it necessary to get close with you in that way.
When you catch the way he's dragging his feet around the room, trying to clean the mess of clothes you two made prior to getting in the bed, your brows lifts with curiosity. Asking gently, "Hey, are you alright?"
Sato hums without turning around to you, running his a hand through his hair as if stressed out. "Yeah, m'fine." He grunts, glancing over at you after and adding a slightly comforting, "Are you?"
You nod in response to him and he stares for a moment longer than necessary, still deep in his thoughts about something he surely wasn't sharing with you anytime soon.
Why would he? You didnât need to know that he was beating himself up over something so stupid. Heâs well aware that heâs the best guy to ever sleep with you so, opening up to you about something so trivial wasnât in his character.
Thereâd been jokes and banter between the two of you beforeâobviouslyâbut it never went any further than that. The moment things threatened to dip into something real, something more tender or honest, Sato would shut it down with quick precision.
Which is exactly why you didn't try pressing for more of this dry conversation. Instead, you silently watched him tug a shirt over his head and then head over to the nightstand for his phone.
He's busy texting someone for a bit before he releases a huff and turns his head to see the way you've been quietly watching him, "Did you want me to run you a bath orâ"
"No, no, I told you, I'm fine," You unintentionally cut off.
You weren't sure where the awkwardness had come from but it wasn't completely unwelcome since there was clearly something he wasn't telling you. You saw it in the way he pouted all grumpily just before looking at you.
Whatever was on his mind had to be eating him up on the inside.
Not that the frown pushed you to ask him anything else though. You ended up turning over and rolling off is bed a few minutes later to gather your things and leave, to which he'd peacefully helped you with.
Then Sato escorted you all the way out of his maze-like home and was "kind" enough to give you a kiss on the forehead before sending you off.
Little things like that always caught you off guard. Your heart would do that weird thing in your chest as you wondered if there was a possibility of experiencing more than just hook-ups with the man.
Though, reality is quick to slap you back to your senses when you see him with his arm around some other woman the next day while on your way to class.
You knew better than to get emotionally attached to Sato Gojo. Everyone did.
ââ
Some days later is when shit decides to hit the fan between you two.
It happens so randomly that you almost feel as though you dreamt the whole thing up. The day starting with him texting you to come over that night and somehow ending with you in thwarted tears.
In all the time you spent with Sato, there'd never been a moment where he was blatantly selfish. Something of which surprised you in the beginning of your relationship since he was known to be a fuckboy.
Yet, ending up in his bedroom for the nth time, as his thumb rubbed at your clit with unsteady, jerky motions, appearing otherwise annoyed about somethingâSato had been selfish for the first time with you.
Foreplay was skipped entirely and you should've known something was up from that alone.
The most you got out of him prior to being stripped of your clothing was a messy kiss and a barely audible, "Need somethin' from you, baby," grunted into your mouth.
Then you were being carried all the way up to his bedroom, handled frustratedly down into the mattress, and soon fucked at a rate you weren't used to.
His thrusts were sloppy and needy, voice quiet since he didn't bother talking you through it or saying anything at all, and the only thing with a sense of normalcy to it was the way his thumb nudged over your clit as his cock dove in and out of you.
Midway through, you assumed he just had a bad day or something. Figured he wanted to take some of that stress out on you.
And that wasn't out of the ordinary for him, it's happened more often than not.
But as his thumb drew desperate circles around your twitching bud, Sato's cock twitched and he pulled out the moment you were about to cum. You were too dazed by his abrupt action that you nearly missed the way he stroked himself into finishing on your stomach and then scoffed. Bitterly.
Your eyes were glossed over since the taste of your own orgasm had been right there on the tip of your nerves, stripped away from you faster than you could blink.
Whatever had been bothering him about having sex with you was felt before it was understood.
He was already turning away by the time you pushed yourself to sit up, the sheets gliding down your arms as you watched him with wide, teary eyes. The room felt ten times quieter than it normally did. You saw how he crossed the room as if nothing had happenedâas if this was just another unremarkable moment to be shrugged off.
"Sato," You say, his name tripping in your throat on the way out.
Only then did he pause, fingers curled around his drawer handle. Not sparing you a glance back, "What." he breathed out.
It was hardly even a response, more of a wall you'd audibly stumbled into. You'd never heard his voice so dull and flat with you.
Swallowing down whatever confusing emotions were building up in your throat, "Did I, um... did I do something wrong?"
Somehow that gets his attention. He glances back over his shoulder then, expression insipid and eyes casting over you all bored-like. "Don't start that," He said, irritation weaving into his voice, "You're overthinking shit already."
Your mouth opens to say something but it's like you'd been slapped in the face, leading your lips to seal shut for a second. His words were too heavy for you, coming off with weighted dismissiveness.
After a few beats, your words trail out slowly, "Sorry I'm a little confused, Sato. You asked me to come over for that..?"
He exhaled sharply, like the question itself had tired him, "What else do I ever call you over for?"
Something shrewd twisted in your chest, "Certainly not whatever the fuck that was just now."
Sato finally turned more fully and leaned back against his dresser, crossing his arms and letting his eyes meet yours firmly. "You sound upset."
"I feel used," You'd snapped back immediately.
His brow twitched, "'Cause I didn't make you cum?"
Again, the words came off blunt and careless.
Leading you to flinch internally, "I meanâyeah," You said as a humorless breath tiptoed out, "You normally do."
"Well, I didn't feel like it today. M'spent." He scoffed out.
It was almost as if that was supposed to be an explanation for everything.
You stared at him and felt the way your disbelief began to fade into something of anger, "You could've told me that."
"Would that have made you feel any better?" Every response came out of him like he'd rehearsed the entire conversation beforehand.
"We could've done something different," Your hands began to curl into the sheets a little, trying to steady yourself. "I could've-"
"I didn't want anything different." Sato cut off crisply.
You'd never been so utterly confused in your life. Everything was fine before thisâfor the most partâso what had come over him all of a sudden? Why was he acting like this?
The finality in his statement only made your stomach drop, your head shaking slowly in disbelief, "...So you wanted to use m-"
"No, sweetheart," The pet name sounds empty on his tongue, lacking its usual affection. "I wanted you to see how it feels to get into something thinking things are going to go like they always do, just to feel disappointed by the end."
The next sound that spreads throughout the room is your laughter as it exits you in incredulous fashion, "Sato, what the fuck are you talking about?"
He dragged a hand through the white tuffs of his hair, pacing only once before coming to a stop. "You..." Letting his words trail off, he released a long and stressed-out sigh, "Every woman I've been with has never had the problem you do."
That hits you square in the chest.
Head cocking back as you frown with immediate offense flaring over, "Excuse me? Are you... are you talking about squirting, Sato? You can't be serious."
"I am," He said without hesitation. "If it's just something you can't do, I'd rather you tell me than making me look like an idiot when we fuck."
"What?" Your eyes narrowed as your anger bled into something strictly hurt. "I... I'm sure I can. Maybe we're just doing something wro-"
"We?" Sato cuts you off instantly. Then his tone seemed firmer and you knew he didn't think things through when he said, "No, no, you've got shit backwards here. I can assure you I'm not doing anything wrong, that's all you."
Something inside you finally boiled over.
"All me?" You scoffed, pushing yourself out of the bed. The cold air wrapping itself around you felt like even more of a wake-up call than what he'd just said. "Oh, sorry for not being like all the other twenty girls you sleep with."
Grabbing your clothes with uncoordinated and janky movements after wiping away any lingering trace of what had happened, you subconsciously wished you could've erased the moment entirely from start to finish. Your hands trembled as you got dressed, seemingly more from the heated emotions waving through you than the embarrassment.
Sato stiffened upon hearing your words. For the first timeâprobably in his lifeâhis confidence had cracked. "Shitâwait," He rushed out, trying to step towards you and stop you from leaving.
It was almost like he himself wasn't aware of how severely fucked up his actions and words were.
His hand reached out for your arm, "I-I didn't mean it like that, c'mon. I justâ"
"Save it, asshole." You spat back at him, shoving his hand out the way and storming out his room before giving him a chance to say anything else.
He'd said more than enough to have your vision blurry and heart pounding in your chest as if pained.
The hallway was dim, your footsteps quickened to carry you as far away from him as possible, and your emotions buzzed all too loudly in your ears for you to think straight. You think you hear something clash against the wall back in Sato's room but you ignore it.
You're so wrapped up in your feelings that you're not even paying attention to where you're going. You only made it a few steps down the hall before you collided with something solid.
Someone solid.
Gasping as you stumble back, a pair of hands come up to steady you. "Ah, sorry," a voice hums out to you. The sound is soft as it reverberates throughout the hallway but your chest feels as though it's caving inwards since the guy in front of you sounded exactly like Sato.
There was a pitch of unfamiliarity in it, though. One that made you look up.
For a moment, you thought maybe you'd fallen off the bed earlier and that everything thus far had been some type of hallucination because surely Sato wasn't standing right in front of you right now.
...Except, with glasses? And a dorkier look in his eyes?
With the same snowy white hair, the same perfectly sharp jawlineâthat's somehow a tad softerâand the same dazzling blue eyes, he stared at you all longingly as if an angel had fallen right into his arms or something. The only difference between him and his brother being the black glasses sitting center on the bridge of his nose.
Despite the hallway's lack of lighting, you swear you see his cheeks flush with red as the moment of exchanged staring passes.
Prior to this, you'd only ever heard rumors of Sato having a twin brother but you never once imagined those would turn out to be true. The man's eyes widen slightly as he really looks at you, confusion flickering across his face whilst he takes in your flushed skin, the way your clothes are hanging off of you as though you'd rushed to put them all, and how your eyes are somberly glossed over.
"I-," You try to blink that wetness out of your gaze and then clear your throat. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."
"It's fine," He replies as he thoughtlessly continues to hold onto your arms. Then, uncertainly, "You're... Sato's, uhâ"
"Sato's what?" You cut off harsher than you meant to.
There was no way he was about to refer to you as that asshole's girlfriend or anything like that, right?
His mouth visibly goes taut, realizing he was about to step into something fragile. Instead of responding, he just stands there awkwardly enough to piss you off even more.
Groaning, you push past him and continue storming down the hall. You didn't have time for whatever that was about to turn into.
Unbeknownst to you, he'd stood there and watched as you walked awayâcursing himself out for letting his opportunity to talk to you pass him by like that. He'd known who you were for months prior to this. Out of all the women Sato brought over, you were the only one Toru took a genuine interest in.
It's unfortunate for him that Sato's a stingy asshole who doesn't care to introduce the two of you. Because of that, Toru had to go out of his way just to get glimpses of your personality.
He was always home when Sato brought you over, always in his room that's just one wall over while the two of you fuckedâlistening and secretly getting off to those gorgeous moans you let off. Toru knew it was perverted of him to do so, but he truly couldn't help himself.
Now here he is with sagging shoulders at the fact that he totally fucked up his first interaction with you.
He heard the whole argument between you and his brother and came out into the hallway hoping to come to your rescue or at least cheer you up, even if only for a second. Yet, all he managed to do was piss you off with his awkwardness and lack of confident social skills.
After a few minutes, Toru straightens up and settles his jaw in a way that says he'd made some type of silent decision. That wasn't going to be the last time he interacted with youâno matter how badly his brother fucked upâhe knew you'd be back eventually.
As he turns back to his room, he promises to himself that next time he sees you, he won't hesitate or fumble things with you.
ââ
A few weeks pass before anything else noteworthy occurs.
In that time, things between you and Sato remain rocky, to say the utmost least. Conversations between the two of you were more careful, apologies came far slower than they should've, and some semblance of trust had been rebuilt in uneven steps.
Sometimes he was sweet and more attentive than he had been before that big argument, kinda like he was afraid it'd happen again. Other times he'd slip up and those old habits would seep through, any excuse he gave you dressed up charmingly enough for you to ultimately end up forgiving him again.
The fact that you both were trying had to be enough to count for something, otherwise the two of you were better off calling it quits months ago.
Somewhere in the middle of that relationship, Toru became familiar to you. You went out of your way to see him whenever you visited the Gojo estate, even if you were only there for Sato.
He was almost always cooped up in his room, drowning himself in his studiesâtextbooks stacked neatly on his desk, handwritten notes color-coded and meticulously organized.
It wasn't long before you realized he and his brother were complete opposites. Where Sato excelled in partying and socializing, Toru peaked in academics and hobbies that were far more niche.
You remember poking your head into his room one time to say hi and catching him lost in Digimon reruns with strategy guides pulled up on his nearby laptop. He was so engrossed in it that he hadn't even heard you saying something to him.
Situations like that are what got the two of you to be something close to friends.
Though, you still didn't know him any more than you knew Sato. You were still kept at an arm's length from either of their personalities beyond what was noticeable. Sato made sure of that where both he and his twin were concerned.
While he did soften up with you, he still wasn't interested in keeping you that closeânot close enough to know him. And he damn sure wouldn't let you go off and try to find that in Toru.
Anytime you and the nerdier Gojo sibling were alone, Sato was intruding minutes later. Always interrupting.
Even when you ran into Toru on campus.
One time when you found him outside the library, standing near a vending machine and ran up to talk to him, Sato seemed to spawn out of thin air with his arm around you is if to silently tell his brother to fuck off.
You weren't sure what had gotten into him as far as that was concerned. He didn't care when you talked to anyone else.
This was but another unfortunate thing for you since you were quite fond of Toru. He remembered little things about you; your major, your favorite cafe, and even your preferred place to sit in lecture halls.
If you asked Sato questions about any of those things, he'd probably shrug and ask you why any of it matters in the first place.
But you bet that dick for brains could tell you which position makes you cum the fastest...
It's regrettably because of that as to why you're currently standing at the large front doors to his home, having rung the bell only a few seconds ago due to an earlier text requesting you come over.
In said text, Sato promised that he only wanted to talk to you and you chose to believe him.
Just for Toru to swing the door open with a surprised look on his face.
"Oh, hey." He began, pushing his glasses further up on his face so that he could get a proper look at you. "If you're looking for Sato, he's not here. I actually think he's been gone for the past three hours or so."
Disappointment settles into you and you roll your eyes, already annoyed. "Of course he has," You sigh.
Toru offers you a half-comforting grin before stepping back a bit and opening the door wider for you, "He'll probably be back soon though, if you wanna come in?"
You debated leaving but the prospect of being able to spend some alone time with Toru is what swayed you into staying.
Which is how you ended up in their living room.
The rest of the house was quieter than Sato ever allowed it to be. There was no music blaring, none of his restless pacing or constant yammering about fuck knows what. The only thing heard was the low hum of the TV ahead of you and Toru.
He'd put on a movie a few minutes ago and although you'd agreed to watch it with him, you kept glancing towards the front door hoping to see Sato walk in any moment now.
It never happens.
Sitting on the opposite ends of the couch, you and Toru are steady to find comfort in one another's presence. You eventually let yourself focus on what he'd put on, snorting whenever he laughed at the unfunniest bits of it and finding yourself mused by the easiness of it all.
You noticed how Toru also tried to sneak his eyes onto you here and there, lacking that smoothness his slightly older brother had and always catching your attention when he did it.
The two of you even shared those warm moments where you'd catch him staring and then whisper, "What, is something on my face?"
To which he'd swallow thickly and shake his head, "No, not at all. Sorry..."
His shyness is probably what drew you in the most about him. You loved how often he avoided eye contact with you, how gentle his voice always came out, and the way he'd begin to adjust himself against the couch due to the smallest of things.
The night was going well enough for you to forget all aboutâ
Your phone rang and Sato's name was lighting up your screen.
At the sight, your shoulders went tense and you were unsure if you should answer it or not. Toru looked over at you but he didn't say anything.
The movie continued to play ahead as you picked up the phone and quietly spoke to Sato, "What?"
Whatever was said to you on the other end made your jaw clenchâsomething of which Toru noted instantly. He didn't mean to be nosy but it was hard not to when minutes passed and you were clearly getting frustrated about your conversation.
"You sound drunk," You're heard muttering, making Toru's ears perk up and then strain to hear more.
Sato is just barely heard grumbling in response, "M'not drunk, baby."
Your shoulders slump, "Did you even mean to text me?"
There's a long pause. Toru tenses up and Sato's heard burping.
"I texted you?" The man on the phone asks, making your entire mood sink. "Hahhh, fuck. I don' remember doing that.. What uh, what'd I say?"
"You said you needed to talk." You reply rigidly.
He nods even though you can't see him, "Ah... I mean, I do need to talk to you but," Pausing to grumble, "Don't see why I didn't jus' call.. Anyway, s-so yesterday I was with this girl 'n she said m'not doin' anything wrong."
His early attempt at trying to convince you he wasn't drunk fell flat in that instant. You stare into space for a moment, "What?"
"Remember how we got into it about your squirting problem?" Sato blurts out in response.
You could feel yourself getting irritated with him all over again. You hated the way he said that like it was truly an issue on your end alone, even though the two of you have talked about it after the argument.
"My squirting problem? You mean the fact that you can't get me there?" You snapped back, matching his energy for just a second and unintentionally gaining the dull attention of his nosy brother.
At this point, you don't think you cared whether or not he overheard.
"No, no, I cannnn..." Sato drags out drunkenly. Then you hear this giggle in the background before he adds, "This girl told me it really is you 'n not me. Because like-"
You hang up the phone before he can continue.
The last thing you wanted to do was entertain whatever the fuck he was about to tell you for any longer than you had to. Your phone falls down into your lap and you feel it buzzing a few seconds later but you only swipe it back up to silence it entirely.
After which, the room falls into a thick quietness that swallows up both you and Toru. Even the movie playing ahead had switched to a soundless scene that only added to the shift in moods.
A few minutes of this stillness pass before you feel the weight on the other side of the couch shifting. Your eyes flick over and you see him readjusting himself in his seat.
You don't question it nor say anything but his sudden movements do manage to pull you out of your funk for a second. Ignoring it, you pick your phone back up to see that Sato had texted you a bunch of gibberishâthe only sensible message you can make out being one of him begging you to text or call back.
As soon as you start typing, his twin decides to clear his throat again.
âI mean, it canât be that hard.â Toru says all timidly, his words catching enough to snag your attention away from your phone.
Your thumb goes idle against the screen and you look up at him to see his cheeks colored over with bright red. He was looking off to his left and you could tell by the rapid rise and fall of his chest that his breathing had gone off-track.
Clearly, he hadnât meant to say that out loud.
You chuckle as if intrigued by his words, humming, âYour brother said the same thing."
Toru scoffs and then speaks without thinking again, âHe doesnât care enough.â
Cocking a brow, âDoesnât care enough to make me squirt?â You ask.
The sound of the manâs breath hitching was clearer than the dense tension between you both. âObviously not,â Toru continues, lifting two slim fingers up to the center of his glasses to adjust them against his nose. âIf he did, he wouldâve made sure you⌠uh, did that.â
Never would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with the same man who can barely look you in the eye. But it was clear something had changed. Even in his body language, you saw how he'd sat up a bit straighter against the couch and let his legs sprawl out widerâalmost invitingly so.
He was still avoiding your gaze but the sturdiness in his voice is what intrigued you the most.
âDid what, Toru? Say it,â You pressed, putting your phone down and turning on the couch to face him fully.
You watched as his Adamâs apple bobbed in his throat with the way he gulped thickly. âHe wouldâve uhm..." Toru pauses to take a deep breathâmentally reminding himself that he swore not to embarrass himself in front of you againâand then clears his throat one more time, "He would've made sure you squirted.â
Too shy to look at you just yet, he misses how the look in your eyes changes entirely. It was like seeing him in a new light.
Not that you hadn't thought about it before. He does look exactly like Sato and there's been a few times where you've wondered what it'd be like to be the cause of his glasses going crooked 'n foggy.
Biting back a smile, âWell, he makes me cum a lot.â You explain to him casually. Certainly Toru wouldn't have started talking to you about this if he didn't at least have some advice for you, âLike, back to back.â
He nods, nimble fingers fidgeting over one another in his lap, âThen, he just doesnât know what heâs doing.â
You bat your lashes at him all cluelessly, âButââ
âAs I said the first time,â Toru looks at you all of a sudden, his eyes mildly terrified behind his frames despite the attempt of confidence spreading over his face. There was a devilishly sexy blend of sureness and hesitancy plastered all over his features, âIt canât be that hard.â
The direct eye contact and few inches of space between where you two were sitting made everything feel hot all of a sudden. Blush melts itself into his skin again and it was clear that this initiated flirting of his was a first time thing.
You knew Toru found you intimidating and that subconsciously accepted fact only made you want to see more. More of your affect on him.
Sliding closer to him on the couch, your voice slyly dips into something more taunting, âYou sound like you wanna try.â
Watching the way his jaw flexes, teeth tightly gritted within his mouth, and throat struggling to conceal the high-pitched sound that threatened to jump out of himâyour affect on the man was as clear as day.
Somehow, Toru manages to maintain his confident facade, âWould you let me if I did?â
âDo you?â You ask quicker than he expects you to.
His head felt like it was spinning already. Is this what it's like to do drugs? Does his brother get to experience this all the time?
Toru gulps again, âDo I.. what?â
Now he was playing dumb on purpose, as if he wasn't the one who commenced this whole thing with his earlier statement.
Which makes you giggle, âYouâre the smartest guy I know, Toru." Your compliment makes his heart skip a few beats. Then your head tilts and your tone softens, "Donât start acting dumb just to appeal to me.â
He bats those pretty white lashes at you with his eyes all doe-like on you for a moment before he looks down, âI just⌠I wanted to hear you say it.â
You stand up from the couch all of a sudden and he freezes up. Then you walk over and stand right in between his legs, moving a hand to his chin and forcing his head up. âDo you wanna try making me squirt?â
Toru shakes his head and your brows furrow. His face nuzzles into your hand, forcing it to spread open as his cheek presses into your palm, âItâs not something to be tried, itâs just something I can do for you.â He explains.
Your thumb brushes against his cheek and his glasses slip down his nose a bit. Smiling, âSomeone's confident.â
He merely whispers, ââCanât be that hard.â
ââ
Ten minutes later and you're wondering why he wasn't the first Gojo twin you met.
Loong fingers stretching your pussy out crudely, hot tongue attacking your clit like he wanted to lick you into numbness, and eyes still doe-like as they remain glued up on your faceâToru was nothing like his slightly older brother.
No, no, he aimed not only to please but to learn how you like to be pleased.
Whereas Sato would just sleep with you the same way he did with anyone elseâbeyond confident in his own abilities to bring a woman pleasureâToru was the kinda man who took his time to work you up specifically.
âTaste sâgood,â He praised in a tone deeper than you knew to be capable from him. You were laying across the couch now and he was stuffed neatly in between your legs. Whining, âMore,â as he tugged at your thighs, his jaw going slack, and his mouth smearing against your cunt. âGimmeâ moreâmmpfh. Please?"
You weren't sure what more he could be referring to when his fingertips were already twirling something sinful against your g-spot. You had a hand buried into his hair, your other behind you as you held onto the couch to steady yourself with the way he feasted on you as if your pussy was the best thing to wet up his tongue.
âAh, T-Toru, fuck!â You cried out, unconsciously pulling away from him when his fingers focused in deep against that soppy spotâaddicted to the way your slick gushed out around his hand and left a sweet mess against the couch.
His fingers leave your insides for only a second and a half before he's shoving them into his mouth to suck the taste off. Toru's eyes rolled back for a moment before he let both of his hands redirect to your inner thighs and then spread you out wider just so nothing was obstructing your view of the way he sloppily kissed your cunt.
Small strings of aroused filth would hang in between his mouth and your puffy pussylips, all of which would get licked off by his eager tongue before he dove back in for more.
Before you'd let him make his way down there, you recall the way he oh-so-awkwardly kissed you. He hardly had a clue what to do with his tongue when it was against yours but now that he was in between your legs, he became an entirely different person.
Suckling the dewy tastes into his mouth and guzzling it down his throat just to let it linger, Toru was nothing short of desperate to make you feel good. So much so that his brain practically turns off as he moves his hands to grip your hips and then lifts the lower half of your body up against his face.
His mouth nuzzled harder against you and you felt the wiggling tip of his tongue slap against your clenching walls. He softly humped the couch as he ate you out, letting the sounds of your moans coax him into giving you everything he could.
Toru only pulled away from your cunt when his glasses fogged up too much for him to see your face. And before you could offer to wipe them off or anything, you met his gaze with the way his head angled for you to do so.
His voice deep and aching, âSit on my face,â He requested before whining again. âPleasepleaseplease,â the man panted almost puppy-like and then seared his next words right into your clit with the edge of his tongue, âNeed it sâbad.â
You don't think you had it anywhere in you to deny him when he was asking so nicely like that.
But by the time the two of you had flipped over and you were left hovering over his pleasantly flushed faceâhis shaky hands tight against your hipsâyou were a little too nervous to sit down.
Toru had caught his breath by now but nothing about his starved appetite had changed. Those previously soft blue eyes of his seemed to pierce straight through you in a way that Sato's sometimes would. You know they're twins and all but fuck, it was nerve-wracking to experience that hungry look from the alleged "shy" twin.
âRide it," Toru husked out all of a sudden, giving your body the faintest pull.
Your eyes went all wide, ââŚYour mouth?â
Instead of clarifying things or being patient with you, he snatches your frame down with a strength you didn't know he possessed. Moaning before your core even reaches his lips again, âWant you to feed your pussy to me.â
Then he was practically suctioned to you again, eyes rolling back far enough for the whites to be visible beneath the foggy frames of his glasses.
âOhfuck,â You cry out, the upper half of your body slumping forward a bit as your thighs squeeze around his head.
You felt the way Toru smiled at the feeling, almost like he was exactly where he'd wanted to be. His tongue skated up into you with a vigor you'd never felt before.
The man ate pussy like he wanted the results of your release plastered all over those pretty glasses of his, leaving him with sogged vision and a numbed tongue. It was yet another thing that made him so much different than his brother because although that man had stamina like no other and knew how to use his cock, he never once ate you out.
Meanwhile Toru couldnât seem to get enough.
He even left a needy smack to your ass, encouraging you to do as he initially asked of you and ride his face. It wasnât until his tongue was constantly plunging past your glissading folds that you unconsciously rolled your hips forward and earned a whimper from him in response.
Then the hands on your hips began to tug at you again, not even begging you for more but demanding it now.
You could no longer focus on the way he looked with splashes of your slick spread out on his glasses in nasty droplets since the tip of his nose had bumped up against your clit, and his jaw went slack just to adhere to your drooling nerves.
The sensation made your entire body flinch, but he wouldnât let you pull up. For the nth time, you were stunned by Toruâs strength.
His tongue was thick and gathering against your pussy, not letting a singular drop of your taste escape his mouth until something light ghosted out of you.
âS-Something feels-, nngh,â Your struggles were just the cutest thing. âDifferent.â You tried to warn him.
His head tilted slightly and you felt his lips curve against you again as he smiled knowingly. Plucking his mouth away from you for the first time in forever with a wet pop!, Toru let his warm breath pat your quivering hole as he whispered, âItâs supposed to feel different, sweet girl. Thatâs what happens when you come to the right twin.â
Cocky. You never knew Toru had that in himâmust be a trait that runs into family.
Except, itâs not like he was wrong. Once he lathered his tongue back in and sucked on your cunt like it was the only thing keeping him sane, you felt that coiling burn building up inside you. You knew you were gonna squirt despite never experiencing it before.
But it felt like too much, made you feel dirty as you neared that shattering edge. So much so that you tried so hard to snatch yourself away from Toru, whining excessively only for each sound to fall on completely deaf ears.
Your legs had clamped around his head so tight that he was getting lightheaded from his lack of oxygenânot that he cared. He had one singular goal and nothing was gonna stop him from reaching it.
It wasnât long before it happened as his complimenting moans turned into graveling groans. The sounds vibrated against your pussy and you were tongue-fucked right into something blissful. Bleary white streaks coated your vision and you think you wouldâve fallen over if not for the mean grasp he had on you.
Toru had done it, he managed to make you squirt.
By the time your brain feels like itâs functioning enough to hold a conversation, you let your vision come back to you and look down to see his soaked face.
His eyes are dazed whilst they peer up at you, appreciation swirling through his pupils. Those same glasses youâve managed to squirt over are now crooked and you wonder if thatâs from the way you unconsciously started rutting your hips forward just a few minutes ago.
Toru didnât do anything but pant heavilyâhis breath stuttering here and there due to how long he went without breathing properly. When he finds the energy to send you another boyish grin, you feel a wave of embarrassment flutter over.
âShit,â You huff, slowly moving from over his face and then grabbing his glasses.
With his face revealed, you saw how unfairly pretty he was with content written into his skin.
Then he chuckles softly, âYou donât have tâclean those.â Toru tells you, tone mumbled.
You were trying to wipe his glasses off with your shirt but heâd moved his hand to your wrist to stop you.
âI like the mess,â he added.
After which youâre stuck staring at him while he takes the wet glasses out of your hand and puts them back on his face. Surely thereâs some hygienic concerns to take into consideration here but heâs not at all worrying about that right now.
Not with the painfully hard cock heâs got twitching in between his legs.
He wasnât gonna tell you out of fear youâd assume he was some kinda loser (he is) but, not only did he cum half-way through eating you out, he also got hard again when that messy stream came pouring out of you.
Toruâs never made a woman squirt before but he did study enough videos toâclearlyâfigure out how itâs done. He didnât think it would work so easily with you since all he had to use was his tongue but considering the way you just-
âCan you do that again?â Your voice hits his ears all of a sudden and his eyes widen.
âW-What?â Toru chokes, âYou uh, you want me to make you squirt again?â
You nod and then move to sit back a little, not exactly in his lap but still close enough for your body heat to mingle. Your finger trails down the center of his torso slowly as you speak, âIt felt really good. I wanna do it again,â You requested almost innocently. âBut, on your cock this time.â
He doesnât know how he managed not to cum at the sound of that.
Toru knew you were bold, he knew you could be a bit of a ditz at time, but fuckâdid you have any idea of the things you were asking for sometimes?
Mustering up that faux confidence from before, he leans up and hums. âAlright, yeah⌠I can do that.â He thinks. Not that heâll admit his lack of assuredness to you though. His hands simply move against your body and you hardly realize whatâs going on until heâs swooped you up in his arms. âBut not here.â
You blink dumbfoundedly, âWhy not?â
âI have a better idea.â
ââ
When he said that, you didnât think the better idea in question would be having sex in his brotherâs room.
You recognized the path there as Toru carried you, felt the familiarity when he laid you down on the bed, and smelled the same scent of Sato lingering around even as Toru tried to distract you with kisses.
It seemed to be surprise after surprise with this man.
âI think after all the times Iâve had to hear the two of you fuck,â Toruâs hands were running down your bodyâhis touch smoother than his brotherâs ever were. âItâs only fair that I make you squirt in the same place he never could, right?â
Too many thoughts of sin swirled in your head for you to answer that properly so all you did was nod your head again. Which was yet another thing he found cute.
Itâs no wonder Sato kept you to himself all this time.
That realization becomes even clearer by the time Toruâs got his cock freed from his clothing, his pinkish tip dribbling precum down onto your cunt while he gapes at the sight.
With his clothes all gone, you realized that heâd been hiding a ripped body under all those baggy, nerdy-branded tees he wore. His muscles would flex without him even trying and he didnât even notice how badly you were drooling over him until he stopped looking at your weeping hole and remembered to redirect his gaze up.
Seeing how youâre staring at his abs like you wanted to take a bite out of him, he leaned all the way up and allowed himself to be on full display for you. His cock bobbed with its hardness due to the way you admired him.
He was only reminded again that his brother got this time and time again and was too selfish to share.
What an asshole.
Toru scoffed and let his head cock to the left, peaking down at his length still hanging over your lower abdomen. âHm,â His hand moved and he began to measure himself in comparison to how deep inside you heâd be within the next few minutesâhand stopping only a few inches short of your belly button. âDoes he reach this far?â
You flinched out of your gawking thoughts and moved your attention to where his hand was, gasping at the debauched sight in between your legs.
Truth be told, the fact that they were twins clearly applied to every inch of their bodies. But if you looked hard enough, you could notice that Satoâs is a bit longer while Toruâs has that veining thickness.
To avoid making the man jealous, you shrug and make eye contact with him again, âPut it in and find out.â
Toru laughs dryly and you throb. Something had changed from before. His shyness seemed like it hid itself away considering there was nothing shy about how he wrapped his hand around his cock and then let it slap slap slap! against your swollen folds.
Your body twitched at each slap but what caught his attention most is how your cunt salivated with each one.
âHuh. I think I figured it out,â Toru breathed, his glasses slipping a bit.
Then he guides his dick up to swab around your clit for a couple seconds just to see the way your hips instantly squirm up for more. The smile that drags out across his face is chillingly close to the one Sato wears while he fucks you.
âThere it is,â Toru whispers, hauling his cock down and letting his plump tip poke against your hole to feel you clench, and then slide back. âThatâs what you like. You like being teased.â
You were so needy that you felt your slick wetly sliding down your skin to pool beneath you, âN-No, I justââ
âShhh, focus on how this feels, pretty girl.â He instructs. All the shakiness you normally heard in his speech was gone and replaced with something sinfully commandingâyearning only to teach you true pleasure. âSee how my cock keeps slipping out? Mmgh,â He repeated his action from before and your hips bucked for more this time, making him huff. âDonât you want it inside you sooo badly?â
Your hand reached down for him, trying your damndest to angle him into you, âI do. Toru please,â You pleaded delightfully.
His naturally submissive nature leads him to slip an inch in but the dewy warmth of your pussy makes him let out a stuttered gasp. Then he lets his cock slop right out of you with another ringing sound of filth spurring out into the air. His deft cockhead thwacks at your quivering hole again and your eyes roll back.
"Say that again." Toru grunts, slapping your parted folds with his cock again to emphasize his words, "Beg me for it."
Your back arches up off the bed this time and youâve got the prettiest look of desperation on your face, "Mnh, please?"
Fuck. He was not strong enough to drag this out any longer.
Nor was he reader for how welcoming your cunt is for him. Swallowing him in inch by stretching inch, Toruâs left with a slacked jaw as he finally slides into you. Choking on his own breath, âO-Ohh⌠Oh fuck.â he pants, âYouâre so wet. F-Fuck, were you always this wet? Shit..â
You let off a pleasant string of moans that make his cock twitch wildly inside you before he even makes it halfway in.
Managing a short breath, you smile up at him, âDidnât know you could curse sâmuch, Toru.â
He knew right then and there he was fucked.
âG-Gonna cum,â He whimpers as he drops his face down into your neck. The singular utterance of his name is what did it for him.
You thought he was just being dramatic but when you feel velvety ropes of creamy cum flooding into you followed by his throaty grunts against the crook of your neck, you realize he was being everything but.
The man could barely move his hips and all he had to offer you was thick loads in sporadic spurts and whiny groans.
By the time you feel his cum escaping where the two of you are still connected, youâre slow to snort, ââŚToru?â
âShit,â He gasps immediately, âShitshitshit, Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry. I-I didnât mean to cum,â His head flies up, white hairs sticking to his forehead from sweat and eyes all wide and apologetic on yours, âI just-, you felt so good. I couldnât-, fuck. Iâmââ
âItâs okay,â You giggle, moving your hands to cup his face, âJust keep goinâ.â
âBut-,â His eyes travel back and forth between your own as he continues to stare. It takes Toru a long moment to realize heâs⌠still hard.
With a breathless oh tumbling out of his kiss-bitten lips, he rolls his hips forward and pushes his cum deeper into you as a creamy squelch rings out. âO-Ohh, fuck. That sounds sânasty...â He murmurs, arousal decorating his expression from the sound.
âMhm,â You whir, tugging him down to kiss you.
If Sato had good stamina then, as twins, Toru should too, right?
A very intimate mess of his hips rocking down into you carries on with your lips sliding over one another. Unlike his older sibling who typically fucked like his every thrust guaranteed pleasure (it did), Toru moved inside you in the same way his mouth moved over yoursâawkward but careful.
The streeeetch from his cock definitely made up for his lack of hurried strokes since his steady pace forced you to feel every prodding inch.
He may not have lasted long inside you without cumming but he was able to bring you to an orgasm of your own, whispering things into your mouth about how perfect you wereâhow his brother never deserved any of this.
It made your heart feel heavy and your cunt sloppily sang around his cock up until the sound of something dropping made you both gasp.
âWhat the fuck.â Satoâs voice was heard seething, having dropped the bag he had hanging off of his shoulder.
When Toru pulls away from you and glances back, you manage to move your head enough to catch a glimpse of how Sato stuck was staring at the way his twin steadily fucking you to gentle tears.
âS-Sato,â You sputtered out, suddenly feeling Toruâs hand move to press down your lower abdomenâtightening the pressure around his cock and making him feel impossibly bigger inside you. âOhmygod-,â Both men heard the way you choked, âMâgonna cum.â
Only to be interrupted by Toru scoffing, "Not yet. Someone has to teach this guy how to make you squirt, right?"
âNo one has to teach me shit,â Sato argued as he fully entered his bedroom.
What a sightâhis own brother fucking his favorite girl. Sato never thought heâd see the day, honestly.
Hell, he didnât even know what to say. The sight of you two wasnât the worst thing in the world. Toru had his face so it was like seeing himself fuck you. But, yâknow, with glassesâŚ
âClearly someone does,â Toruâs delayed response came after heâd tugged his cock out of you, watching his cum sap out and soil his brotherâs bedsheets. âEspecially if I was able to do it.â
Rolling his eyes, âBullshit.â Sato spat without letting his brotherâs words register properly. When they finally do, an appalled expression colors over him, âWait, what? No way, show me.â
Toru moves a hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking off to the side dorkishly, âUh, we didnât record it or anythingââ
âNo, I mean do it again, four eyes.â His older brother clarifies rudely.
You sit up at that. Glancing back and forth between the two for a moment and then settling your eyes onto Sato, âWhat?â
âI donât believe him,â Sato huffs as comes to sit on the edge of his bed. Throwing his eyes onto you, âSo, if he really made you squirt then surely he has no issue doing it again.â
You blink. âYou want him to do that in front of you?â
âI want to see you squirt, period,â He admits, âI donât care who gets it outtaâ you at this point.â
You and Toru then exchange glances before looking at him.
âWell?â Sato scoffs. âIf youâre gonna go out of your way to fuck in my bed, donât stop now that Iâm here. Put on a fuckinâ show for me.â
Ever so demanding he wasâŚ
ââ
Not that you or Toru seemed to care.
The next position you end up in is rather⌠precarious, to say the least.
You thought you were left stretched before but that feeling was utterly pale in comparison to what you felt now. Toru had you bouncing up and down his heavy cock, letting it talk you through every pummeling thrust by leaving sweltering smooches against the deepest crevices of your cunt.
Your maw was left to dangle open and you looked like a true slut in the eyes of the Gojo twins. As one fucked you beyond dumb, the other was sat in front of you with his hands wrapped around his shaft, his palm running up and down that wildly long cock of his as sticky precum glistened out from his tip.
Drool and spit trickled all down your jaw and fell onto the floor below and you couldnât move in any way to escape Toruâs desperate thrusts.
The sound of sweaty skin slacking and clashing against one another echoed through Satoâs large bedroom whilst he watched and got off to the sight.
Your arms and legs were locked firmly in Toruâs grip and he was just using your pussy to satisfy that swollen ache heâd been dealing with for fuck knows how long now.
The remnants of his cum sobbed downwards and left a messy ring around his base, the pearly color nearly mocking the white happy trail of hair he had.
"Tighter-, hahh.. squeeze around me tighter, please." Toru muttered into your ear, having found himself pussydrunk and slopped. The walls of your pussy narrowed around him and his hips snapped up a little faster, "Good girl, just like that. F-Fuuck... you're gonna make me c-cum." Toru whimpered.
A singular gasp of, "Inside.â from your horribly sore throat makes both him and his brother groan.
"Again? Shiit," Toru sent a bragging smile ahead before bucking his hips up into you faster as if to prove a point. Still talking into your ear, "Y'want me to breed you in front of Sato? Damn, you're sluttier than I thought you'd be."
You feel his weighty balls pounding up against your skin as his cock bullied in deeper, your pussy stretched into the prettiest shape and molded perfectly around him.
Sato couldnât take his eyes off the errotic sight and his hand moved faster, his own hips thrusting up as he reminisced on that feeling of positioning into you. The man swears he could feel you wrapped around him just from watching his brother handle you.
It was so different to see things from this perspective but fuck was it sexy. Your tits bounced as Toru dragged you up up upp and then let his hips meet you halfway with a needy thrust as he let your body come back down.
"Mmngh, Toru!" You moaned softly.
To which his teeth nipped at your ear, "It's so cute when you say my name like that," He huffs, "Do you like me that much? Hm? Like the way Toru treats this pussy?"
You weakly moved your head in agreement, tears running down your cheeks, "Uhuhh⌠f-fuuuck, Toru. Mâcummin.â
His movements grew faster then, ruder. The plump crown of his cock mashed into that sweet spot of yours over and over and over as if to make the spot his new homeâimprint himself there permanently.
Breathing all heavy against you, âSâokay, let it out, sweetheart. Show him what he should be making you do, yeah?â
Sato cums a split second before it actually happens, based on the fact that it was about to happen. Thank god you were too drunk to see it because heâs watching with teary eyes as you squirt all over Toruâhis dick slipping out of you because of it and the mess spraying ahead filthily.
Your pussy quivers from the release and youâre whining all through it, the cooing sound of Toru whispering you through your high prominence in your ear. You could barely think, barely breathe because of the intensity of it all.
When you calm down from it, Toruâs still got you in his arms and all youâre left to focus on is Satoâs pouty face as he continues to stroke himself.
âWell, fuck. Look at you,â He spoke hoarsely the moment he noticed your attention on him, his head resting back against his headboard, âJust a whore for some Gojo cock, huh?â
Your head barely bobs in responseâfar too dazed to answer that with a properly functioning brain.
Satoâs hand squeezes around his tip and his brows furrow, âYeahhh? Yâliked watching me jerk off like some pathetic loser while I let my brother fuck you?â He hardly waited for another answer out of you before nodding his chin, âBet you do. Look at that pussy, so fuckinâ wet from this.â
Toruâs easing you down on the bed in between the both of them, puffing, âUnfair of you to keep her all to yourself, Sato.â
Keeping things simple, âIâm willing to share now.â
âŚ
Things should have ended there. Seriously.
But, allas, the hold these two have over you appeared to be much stronger than you thought.
âWrap those lips around me, baby.â Sato had requested, watching your shaky limbs move in between his legs.
Toru was somewhere behind you, diving his face back into your cunt to⌠clean the mess he left in there, apparently.
Out of both of them, Toru was definitely the more perverted oneâcurrently eating his own cum out of your cunt after giving you some bullshit excuse about wanting to keep you clean.
All he wanted was to stick his tongue inside you again. You werenât that dumb.
While you gathered Satoâs cock into your palm and let your lips press into his tip, he hissed as his face twisted up due to sensitivity. Easing a hand onto your head, âAtta girl. Choke on this dick while he cleans you up. Wanna see every inch down that throat.â
His words never failed to leave your cunt soused, a physical reaction of which met Toruâs compliant tongue.
Satoâs bed was a mess of all sorts of fluidsâoverly due for a washing after all that had taken place thus far. His cock was somewhere in the back of your throat and he felt your moans tremble against him whenever Toru slurped against you just right.
The three of you were lazy with everything by now and the only thing that made the Gojo siblings perk up was when you ended up gifting Toruâs mouth with another raining mess.
Oh, Sato was in awe at the sight all over again. So much so that itâs what caused his next orgasm. He was so dazed by your squirting that he didnât even bother to ask you to swallow what heâd just unconsciously thrusted into your throat.
Normally thatâs his favorite part; watching or asking you to swallow his seed. Yet, heâd missed all of that because seeing his brotherâs face smothered in your wetness left him shocked.
âOhhh, shit. That was more than the first time.â Toru said as he finally pulled himself from in between your legs.
Satoâs ears twitch and he cocks a brow. Daze broke completely, âFirst time?â he asked. It was clear he still didnât believe that his geeky, clumsy, and overall awkward sibling made that happen before he walked in.
Toru looks at his brother, âYeah⌠More than the first time she squirted.â
Sato stares. âYou⌠You made her squirt before I got here?â Disbelief was evident in his tone.
He chuckles, âYou asked me that like itâs hard or something, of course I did.â
You pull yourself up from Satoâs softening cock just in time and give the two slow blinks while transferring your gaze back and forth. Sleepiness wasnât slow to overcome you.
Sato met your eyes with his pointed ones and puffed all brat-like, âSoooo⌠youâre gonna do that for only me next time, right?â
Thereâs not a singular thought inside your head as you blatantly ignore him. Then, you turn over and plop onto the bed to lay downâback facing the two of them.
âHello?â Sato taps your shoulder and then jokingly adds a comedic, âChat, am I mutedâŚ?â
Toru snorts with a shake of his head, getting out the bed to start cleaning up the mess you three collectively made within the past few hours.
Then, youâre wondering if the roles had reversed for a second when he grumbles, âFuckinâ loserâŚâ