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︵ ೀ mdni. megumi’s tired of hearing people call you yuji’s girlfriend; so he makes sure they hear you moaning the right name instead
megumi fushiguro never thought he would be the jealous type.
he’s dating you. officially. you hold his hand in public, kiss his cheek before missions, and fall asleep on his chest almost every night. but for some reason, the world seems determined to believe you belong to someone else.
“yuji! your girlfriend is so cute today,” someone says loudly in the common room, grinning as you walk in wearing one of yuji’s spare hoodies (you got cold and he tossed it to you without thinking).
yuji laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “huh? oh— wait, that’s not—”
but you just smile politely and sit down next to megumi. but still, the comment lingers. and it happens constantly.
teachers, underclassmen, even random staff at jujutsu tech keep referring to you as “itadori’s girlfriend.” you and yuji are close, after all. you laugh at his dumb jokes, share food, and have that easy, bright energy together. to outsiders, it makes sense.
to megumi, it feels like a slow knife twisting in his chest.
he doesn’t say anything at first. he’s megumi, after all. he keeps his face neutral, shoulders relaxed, but you notice the way his jaw tightens every time someone makes the mistake. the way his hand finds yours under the table and squeezes just a little too hard. one afternoon after training, it happens again.
a group of second-years walks by. one of them waves at you. “hey, itadori’s girl! tell your boyfriend his cleave was insane yesterday!”
you open your mouth to correct them, but megumi speaks first, voice low and sharp.
“she’s not itadori’s girlfriend.”
the second-years blink. the air grows awkward. you gently squeeze megumi’s hand, but he doesn’t relax.
later that evening, you find him sitting alone on the rooftop, elbows on his knees, staring at the city lights. you sit beside him and rest your head on his shoulder.
“you’ve been quiet,” you murmur.
megumi stays silent for a long moment before he finally speaks. “…i hate it,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i know it’s stupid. yuji’s my best friend. i trust both of you. but every time someone calls you his girlfriend… it feels like the world is reminding me that i’m not the obvious choice.”
you lift your head, surprised by the vulnerability.
megumi continues, eyes fixed on the horizon. “he’s loud and warm and makes people smile without trying. i’m… not like that. so when people assume you’re with him, part of me wonders if they’re right. if you’d be happier with someone easier.”
your heart aches. you crawl into his lap, straddling him so you can cup his face with both hands.
“megumi,” you begin, “i don’t want easy. i want you. the boy who grumbles about sharing his umbrella but still holds it over me even when it means he gets completely soaked. the one who pretends he doesn’t care but remembers exactly how i like my tea. the one who stays up with me when i have nightmares and acts like it’s no big deal, like he wasn’t exhausted from a mission.”
megumi’s hands settle on your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours.
“i know,” he whispers. “but i still want them to know you’re mine too.”
“then let’s make it obvious,” you murmur against his lips. “we can hold hands more in public, sit together during lunch, i’ll wear your hoodies around campus… whatever you want. we don’t have to hide it anymore.”
megumi nods. “okay. we’ll do that.” but in his mind, he already has other plans.
holding hands and wearing his clothes is sweet—and he’ll do it, of course he will—but it’s not enough. he wants more. he wants to kiss you in the hallway between classes where everyone can see. he wants to pull you onto his lap during movie nights with the others. he wants to leave marks on your neck that no one can mistake. he wants them to hear the way you moan his name when he fucks you in the dorms at night.
he may not be loud and happy and sunshine like yuji. but he’s going to make sure every single person at jujutsu tech knows exactly who you belong to.
later that night, megumi pulls you into his room in the dorm, closing the door behind you with a soft click. the moment you’re alone, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you—deep, slow, and full of everything he couldn’t say on the rooftop.
he kisses you like he’s trying to erase every single time someone called you yuji’s girlfriend. his lips move against yours with intensity, tongue sliding into your mouth as he presses you back against the door. you sigh into the kiss, hands fisting his shirt, and he groans softly, tilting his head to kiss you deeper.
you pull back just enough to breathe, cheeks flushed. “megumi… it’s late. everyone is asleep already.”
“i don’t care. let them hear.”
he walks you toward the bed without breaking the kiss, hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin. when the back of your knees hit the mattress, he gently lays you down, crawling over you. his mouth never leaves yours for long—kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, sucking lightly until faint marks bloom on your skin.
megumi slowly moves lower, pushing your shirt up as he goes. he kisses down your stomach and when he reaches your shorts, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and looks up at you, eyes dark but asking. you nod.
he pulls your shorts and panties down together, tossing them aside. instead of going straight between your legs, he starts kissing your inner thighs. he takes his time, sucking gently on the sensitive skin, leaving faint hickeys as he moves closer and closer to where you need him.
“megumi…” you whisper, fingers threading through his dark hair.
he hums against your thigh, then finally leans in. his tongue drags slowly up your folds, tasting you, before he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks gently. you moan, back arching off the bed. megumi groans at the sound, the vibration sending sparks through you. and then he eats you out like he has something to prove.
his tongue is relentless but tender—licking, sucking, circling your clit before dipping down to push inside you. he keeps one arm draped over your hips, holding you in place while the other hand gently squeezes your thigh. every moan you let out seems to spur him on.
you whimper as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly while his mouth returns to your clit. he sucks harder, faster. your thighs tremble around his head, fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure coils tighter and tighter.
“megumi— fuck, i’m—”
megumi groans against your clit at the sound of your voice, the vibration shooting through you. a selfish, possessive part of him wants everyone in the dorm to hear exactly who’s making you feel this good. he knows he should keep you quiet—the walls aren’t that thick—but the thought of someone hearing you moan his name makes something dark and satisfied twist in his chest.
instead of covering your mouth like he usually does, he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in deeper, curling them firmly against that spot while sucking hard on your clit.
you cry out, louder than before. “ah— megumi!” your voice echoes in the room. your hips jerk against his face, but he holds you down with one arm, refusing to let you escape him.
he wants it louder.
he sucks harder, tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen clit while his fingers thrust faster, wet sounds filling the room along with your moans. every time you try to stay quiet, he doubles down—sucking, licking, curling his fingers just right until another loud, needy moan spills from your lips.
“let them hear,” he murmurs against your pussy, barely pulling away. “let them know who makes you sound like this.”
you sob his name again, louder this time, fingers tightening painfully in his hair as your orgasm crashes into you. your back arches hard off the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head as you cum.
“megumi—! fuck—!”
megumi doesn’t stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower but still firm, drawing out every wave until you’re whimpering and twitching from the overstimulation. when he finally pulls back his lips are all shiny and chin wet.
he crawls up your body, eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at your flushed, dazed face. he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“good girl,” he breathes against your lips. “so fucking good for me. you sounded so pretty when you came on my tongue… i hope everyone heard how well i take care of you.”
you’re still panting, legs trembling as you cling to him. megumi presses soft kisses along your jaw, then your neck, a small, rare smirk tugging at his lips.
he may not be loud like yuji.
but tonight, he made sure the whole dorm heard exactly who makes his girlfriend cum this loud.
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WHY IS OUR MANAGER IN THE CLOSET WITH OUR TRAINER?
iwaizumi hajime x reader; where you ask your coworker “what are we?” mid-makeout session
excitement rushes through your body as you hear the familiar click! of the lock behind you, while strong arms feel you up and pull you close.
“i missed you, you know that, right?” iwaizumi tells you, as he starts trailing down your neck. “why have you been avoiding me all day?”
“avoiding you?” you ask with a smile, leaning your head a bit to the side to give him more room to kiss the particular spot you like. “we’re at work, hajime.” your job requires notetaking, bringing water bottles, coordinating players’ schedules, etc… while his requires training, physical therapy appointments, and individualized meetings with players. other than both jobs relating to the team, there wasn’t that much intersect that justified meeting in the storage closet this often.
“so?” he hums, breath catching in your throat while he trails his fingers beneath your work blouse. “doesn’t stop this from happening.”
something about that comment snaps you out of the pleasure you’re feeling, facing consiousness of where you are and what was going on instead. iwaizumi pauses, feeling you suddenly tense beneath him. “did i do something wrong?” he asks.
“hajime… what are we? i mean what are we even doing? we’ve been acting like high schoolers that don’t want to get caught.” you ask, letting his hand cup your face as his eyes meet yours.
the trainer stares at you for a moment, before a quick inhale. “we can be whatever you want us to be, yn.” he gives you a gentle kiss on the head. “we can be just coworkers, friends, or even more than friends, if you’d like.” despite the little light in the storage closet, you could feel his blush radiating off of hiim.
“how about we talk about it over dinner?” you question, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck.
“are you free tonight?” iwaizumi asks with a hint of hope, thumb stroking your face as he anticipates your response.
“hmmm, i’ll think about it,” you tease. laughing as he nipped at your neck. “i think -“
“BOKUTO, GET THE KEYS! THE DOOR IS LOCKED.” atsumu yells from outside.
you both freeze, with iwaizumi whipping his hand around to check the time on his watch. 7:00pm. the team had officially ended their practice and had to put away their things. “oh my god,” you whisper, mortified at the thought of being caught like this.
“don’t worry, i got this,” he assures, before quickly catching your lips with his own.
————
“AND THEN, i saw yn sneak out of the closet while iwaizumi was distracting me with something. she didn’t even look me in the eyes.” atsumu tells the group. “THE DOOR WAS LOCKED BEFOREHAND?”
you cover your head with your hands in embarrassment, while iwaizumi puts an arm around you. turns out, you both forgot about the scheduled drinks bokuto and atsumu insisted on having at the end of each month. you could only yelp in surprise as iwaizumi playfully pinches your side, before whispering in your ear, “good thing we didn’t get too carried away this time.”
im sorry guys im rusty. please forgive me. and PLEASE overlook my grammatical errors in my past works. reposts appreciated ;P
A bet is classic. What could be more fun than targeting a sweet girl and making her fall in love with the reputable campus fuckboy? Surely he wouldn’t fall in love with you.
fratboy!gojo x f!reader
notes: I have seen sooooo many ideas and tiktoks about the trope of reader being a bet & it always hurts so good! wanted to try it out and ofc it had to be with fratboy gojo >:)))
warnings: angst obvi hehehe, drinking, cursing, reader is super sweet and a bet obvi, no comfort or happy ending (yet? who knows), mentions of vomiting but doesn’t, mentions of blood, reader is never someone’s first choice:(( ummmm, gojo is an asshole ofc
Credit to @uzmacchiato for the divider!!
Satoru knew he should've said no in the beginning, knew it wasn't worth it just to impress his friends- his stupid frat brothers who never took anything seriously. Never thought about the consequences of their actions.
Buuut the idea of the bet was just too good to turn down.
The effort, the build up, the dedication- it would all come together so perfectly, especially with you as the main star. With you being you, you were doomed from the start before the bet could even fully take shape.
Sweet little you. Shouldn't you have known better?
Going around, shamelessly wearing your heart on your sleeve, always spreading kindness on the darkest of days, looking and talking to people as if they genuinely mattered- and maybe to you, they actually did, even when they couldn't have cared less about returning the favor. Not that you ever expected anything in return.
And most importantly of it all? You were so understanding. Far too understanding for your own good. The debilitating type that had rooted itself early on as some sort of lousy defense mechanism and eventually morphed into something self destructive. Had you subconsciously constructing and molding subpar excuses to justify someone's behavior, especially when it was directed towards you.
Always being an overly empathetic thing, so willing to sacrifice and minimize your own feelings when it came to others, always softening their blow.
Were you desperate or something to get people to stay? So desperate that you had unintentionally turned yourself into a doormat that people could stomp all over?
Anybody could've told you that it was idiotic to try and see everyone at face value, to so naively believe the words people told you. But you could've argued the opposite.
It wasn't naivety. It was you, sweet and trusting you, determined to not let your past heartbreak change the way you viewed others, to not let it bias you, scare you, or haunt you. Despite having been constantly hurt, you refused to allow your past experiences make you question and doubt every. single. new. relationship.
Always trying to see the good in people.
It would have turned out great, perfectly actually. You had played your part with flying colors, just as expected, putting on the most spectacular, albeit unknown, performance. And Satoru? Well.
Things would have turned out great.
If he hadn't started falling in love with you.
But the show must go on.
“H-Hey, Satoru! Wait-wait a sec!” The words spilled from your lips in an unintentional desperate plea, the halls fully swarmed and packed with students squeezing past one another. Dozens of conversations mulled around you, voices mindlessly buzzing and bouncing off the walls as you paced towards the white haired man.
Satoru had been anything but clear as of recently, a new push pull dynamic he’d adopted that had you more confused and thrown off than ever. You thought you were going crazy.
One night he was taking you out, looking at you like you were his dream girl who hung the moon in his sky, and the next he was treating you like some clingy puppy that he had never even asked for in the first place. The hot and coldness of it all had given you whiplash trying to keep up with him.
But of course, of couuurrrse, you believed him when he said it was stress. That finals and exams had him so busy, but of course he liked you! He was just new at this whole communication thing and needed time but please Y/N, I like you so much please im trying.
You believed it all.
After all, why would you not? Especially when Satoru was Satoru and you were you.
Sure, you knew you could be a lot, knew you could have more than afforded to shut up every now and then and not chimed in with your over the top unnecessary eager commentary, but regardless, the point still stood. Satrou Gojo, one of the hottest most pined after frat boys on campus that everyone treated like a myth, like an untouchable legend, talked to you, was nice to you, even took you out and seemed happy to do so.
Maybe for once, the rumors could have been just rumors!
Plus, the last few times you remembered being taken out was high school, and they never showed you much interest past the first date once they learned they couldn't get in your pants. Gojo hadn't even tried!
“Sorry-excuse me,’cuse me, sorr- oops, my bad, imsosorry- Satoru!”
He'd been oddly silent the past few days, completely unresponsive to your texts. But with finals coming up, surely he must've been cramming and just far too busy to respond.
He hadn't sat next to you like usual in lecture, but he showed up late, so maybe he didn't want to bother you?
But he didn't wait for you after either, gone before you could even leave your seat. You couldn't deny how it stung, but always chalked it up to him being too busy or in a rush.
You could visibly see his shoulders tense from behind, the slight tilt of his head as it hung forward in what you could only assume was annoyance, a brief mental preparation to deal with you. A pang bloomed in your chest, unease pulsing through you.
He slowed down just enough for you to catch up, but didn't stop. Slightly out of breath, you fell into step next to him, cheeks flushing and heat creeping up your neck from his clear uneagerness to see or talk to you. You nervously swallowed. He could be intimidating when he wanted to be.
He didn't greet you, didn't look at you, just waited for you to speak.
You awkwardly cleared your throat to speak, a small and meek “hi,” being the only word to squeeze out.
“I’ve got class.” Short, quick, dismissive.
His blunt uninterested response sent doubt pummeling through you, the gifts in your pocket weighing heavier and heavier with the possibility of rejection more realistic than you initially thought.
He would draw you in, perfect words to butter you up and make you feel foolish for ever questioning him, and then he'd get like this. Not mean per se, but just so uninterested in you that you wondered if you had made it all up. You weren't dating (yet? So you were hoping) but he had kissed you on the most recent date. Didn't that mean something?
You'd been so ecstatic afterwards, but with no solid friends on campus, you had no one to tell or squeal to. You carried everything alone, both good and bad. Gojo knew that, the whole frat knew that. It's what made you the perfect choice.
“R-right, yeah! Um- can you stop just for a second- i wanted to-” and he loudly sighed, piercing blue eyes rolling into his head as he stopped to turn to you. He didn't say anything, just stared expectantly at you like you were completely wasting his time. His gaze on you was irritated.
The eye contact had you jittery. Not the usual nerves you'd get when you turned your head just to find him already looking at you, so anxious you’d somehow mess things up with the hottest guy ever, so desperate to be good enough for him. No. It was the on edge, antsy type that had you replaying every dumb thing you've ever said to him, the doubt pooling at the very bottom of your stomach that felt like a heavy black tar. It felt like a test you knew you’d fail when you had studied so hard to do good. You just wanted him to like you the way you liked him, and god, did you fucking like him.
Don't fuck this up, y/n, this is the best thing that has ever happened to you.
Nervously swallowing and cheeks blazing, you gave an uneasy awkward smile before rummaging through your tote bag and pocket, muttering a tiny but sincere “sorry,” when his foot started to impatiently tap against the floor.
A small pit formed in your stomach, feeling slightly mortified and very embarrassed. The feeling was similar to a child showing off their very mediocre work to an overly critical parent.
“Sorry,” you huffed a fake laugh, pulling out the small container from your bag and the keychain from your pocket.
“I-um, I made these for you, since you know, you said you loved cookies, uh on the date, they're um your favorite..” and your words trailed off as you held out the tin, slowly beginning to feel smaller and smaller as he kept his hands by his side, no show of trying to take it from you. A small sticky note on the top read, “Hope you like them! :D <3”
“Oh! A-and, hah, I saw this and, and I thought of you, especially since you said you really, um, really liked that show.” nothing. “J-Just as a um, thank you, for the other night. W-Was a lot, o-of fun.”
You held both hands out, praying he didn't see the slight tremble of your clammy hands holding the items as you stood there feeling like an idiot. The thumping of your heart picked up, eyes looking anywhere but at him, bowing your head just slightly so you wouldn't have to see him look so repulsed by you.
Had you somehow misread everything? Like actually? This entire interaction felt like some humiliation ritual.
“Um, if, if you want, o-of course, no.. no pressure,” You pathetically added, already trying to lessen his blow, already trying to minimize and justify his cold reaction towards you.
He let out a small snicker, hands finally coming up to grab the items from your unsteady hands. You hid the sigh of relief that you wanted to let out, so easy to please and already feeling happy again that he accepted your gifts, as if it was a nuisance for him to do so.
“Wow, thanks. You do too much,” he dully noted, a small closed lip smile gracing his pretty features before he turned on his feet to continue his trek to class.
The comment made you freeze, staring at the spot he stood in, a “thank you?” not even having the chance to leave your tongue. You didn't think he said it with mal intent, but the words ‘too much’ always seemed to find its way back to you.
“Oh wait!” Gojo's voice broke you from your thoughts, and you immediately turned to face him, eyes wide and excited like a dog hearing the word ‘walk.’ Maybe he'd talk to you some more, or want you to walk with him! Or maybe-
“Party this Friday night at the house. You should come by, all my friends will be there.” The words made you deflate. A party… at his frat house… the idea made your stomach twist with nerves. You knew no one, had no friends to go with, and you were absolutely horrified of embarrassing yourself around him- even more- than what you felt like you had already done.
“Oh! Um, haha, I don't think your friends like me- um- very much, haha,” you stated, hand coming up to push your fallen hair behind your ear, a small wince on your face as to not make it a big deal.
His friends, and Gojo at first too, had been relatively mean to you starting off, relentless teasing about your looks, your interests, hobbies, lack of knowledge you had despite trying so hard. You had been so caught off guard when he told you he liked you.
“Psh, they're just playing! See you at 10pm,” he yelled back, already walking away, arm coming up to carelessly wave. You sighed to yourself. You knew you would go. You really wanted to see gojo.
Friday night was a mess. A good mess at first, at least. Cars parked up and down the street, people packed in like sardines in and outside the house, music so loud all the neighboring dorms and frats could hear, and god did it reek like sweat and musk.
The two shots - okay maybe three - you took right before for liquid courage seemed to do the exact opposite as you maneuvered around a couple making out, small “excuse me’s” falling from your lips every second in a measly attempt to find gojo.
The small revealing outfit you had on, at least, seemed to match the vibe, relieved when you saw girls wearing far less. The only con was that your favorite knee high boots would most definitely get stepped on, but at least you were taller now as you searched for the stark white tufts of hair.
The house thrummed from the vibration of the speakers, bass so heavy your teeth rattled. It was dark, the only light illuminating the rooms were colorful shades of blues, purples, reds, and greens shining and flashing everywhere. The party felt like everything you weren't, but for a split second you were almost proud of yourself, going so far out of your comfort zone it felt like you were on a whole other planet. You imagined how fun these parties could be if you had any friends, and before you could let the thought get you down, you let your tipsy self imagine what it would be like to experience these with gojo by your side, excited that you were about to.
Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was packed. Unable to find Gojo had you seeking out another drink and the multitude of bottles of liquor that covered the surfaces were calling your name. You felt confident, wanting another drink to keep your courage and vibes up, grabbing a red solo cup and creating a concoction that would be far too strong, but you were here to let loose right? You were at a party!
Further encouraged and emboldened when a girl passing by stopped to compliment you, you smiled to yourself, feeling the tension roll off your back and a new found self-assurance bloom within you.
Bodies flowed and worked around you, not shoving into you or looking at you like you didn't belong, but moved in rhythm near you, like you had every right to be there and fit just fine. You relaxed into the music, earlier shots of vodka giving you a nice buzz that warmed your skin, made your cheeks tingle, and more importantly a soft happiness that weighed in your chest that comforted you like a safety blanket. Pouring the liquor into the cup with a mixer that admittedly was way too little, you knocked over a different cup, relieved there was barely any liquid that spilled over.
Quietly giggling to yourself, you spun to grab a roll of paper towels, quickly drying up the small mess you made, already sipping on your drink that made you wince in disgust. It was perfect. You hummed along to the music, hips swaying while lights blinded you, walking over to the metal garbage can to toss the wet material. Looking inside, you couldn't help but notice the tupperware that looked exactly like yours.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned in a little closer, tiny fractures cutting into your heart as you realized it was yours, still packed to the brim with your cookies, sticky note still stuck to the top. Next to the cookies, the keychain you had bought him.
You froze, just a moment before scooting back, not wanting to get caught staring into the trashcan as you processed everything. There was a dull ache in your chest, energy immediately depleting and inklings of shame and embarrassment circulating through you. Your mind worked through the different possibilities, seeking out any excuse or reason as to why your items now lay forgotten in the trash.
You felt the build up of tears, blinking them back with a shaky breath as you chugged your mixture that was mainly liquor, a hopeless attempt at suppressing the sadness you felt. You shivered, turning your head to gag at the disgusting taste. Surely all the alcohol would calm your nerves.
Maybe one of the guys had done it? And not Gojo? You were positive this was all some sort of misunderstanding, no way he would just do that right? He told you he liked you- it wouldn't make any sense.
You began your trek around the sea of people, legs a little more unsteady now, eyes slightly glassy, contents of your stomach filled with a majority of alcohol and barely any food from your earlier nerves. All you wanted to do was find him, figure out an explanation that you were positive you'd be more than willing to accept, and spend the rest of the night by his side having a good time. The cookies weren't hard to bake and it's not like the keychain cost that much- it was fine, you were fine.
A little more intense this time, you made your way through the frat house, a sigh of relief when a glimpse of that notorious white fluffy hair came into view, a black backwards baseball cap sitting perfectly on his head. When your eyes finally landed on gojo, albeit still a little wobbly and throat tight, you couldn't help the smile that automatically formed on your face, hoping he'd feel the same. Why wouldn't he? He did invite you after all.
He was surrounded by his friends and then some, everyone dialed in on what he was saying. You anxiously stepped forward, waiting for the right time to get close to him and say hello. You wondered if he'd hug you and say ‘hi baby,’ like he sometimes did. The thought made your heart flutter inside its ribs like a bird in a cage.
Maybe he'd even compliment your outfit, or your hair and makeup. You eagerly bit your lip, too excited to be embarrassed at your spiraling thoughts of being somewhat wanted by him.
“Bro and then she gave me a fuck ass keychain, dude!!” he broke up his commentary with a laugh, a little too forced for it to be genuine, but a laugh nonetheless. “Said it reminded her of me, like, she just can't get any weirder bro. God and don't get me started on the cookies. She said it was her thanks for taking her out, but she doesnt know its all a bet to get into her pants- shes a fucking virgin for sureeee, threw that shit out as soon as i got back,” and he snickered and grinned like he had won the best prize. Like he had formed the best, most elaborate plan and you had played your part perfectly. You really, really had.
His friends, who you recognized as toji and maybe sukuna, chuckled, all chiming in with terms of agreement and encouragement, adding on all sorts of lies and theories about you, like maybe you were secretly a whore putting out, your innocent act a devious little facade. Geto, who had always been kind to you, was there too, perched against the side of a couch, not joining in, but silent and accepting.
You flinched, physically recoiling back when you heard them laugh about how you were too much, too pathetic to see right through anything at all, a fucking stupid girl for thinking someone like you could have a chance at him. Everything you had told yourself, every insecurity that had coursed through you, all confirmed. Others really did view you the way you saw yourself.
“Bro and when I kissed her, swear i almost gagged-”
You drowned his voice out, the music. There was a ringing in your ears that wasn't there before. Frozen in your spot, fingers beginning to shake, throat burning so badly you weren't sure if the alcohol you had downed was about to make a surprise appearance or not.
The bodies around you blurred as the pit in your stomach grew, humiliation washing over you as if you’d just been doused with a bucket full of ice water. You didn't run, couldn't, feet glued to the floor as you were forced to listen to the group of the hottest guys on campus who didn't even know you as a person, didn't take the time to learn you, ridicule you and make fun of you. You guessed it didn't matter, because Gojo had.
Each breath was labored and jagged, chest tightening and skin prickling with such an intense heat that you felt constricted in the already sparse clothes you wore. The way the fabric dug into you, a certain stitch that scratched you, the zipper that rubbed against your skin - it felt like you were suddenly aware of every unpleasant feeling in addition to the shattering of your heart.
You wanted to go home, wanted the floor to swallow you whole- felt so unbelievably silly standing there watching the guy you liked- fuck, the guy you had fallen in love with- paint you out to be some weird nasty creature who was undeserving of his attention. Sure, you had felt that way initially, but he had been so kind to you that you had been so blindsided, unknowingly setting yourself up to fall right back into your constant cycle of heartbreak and misery.
Built up tears finally broke the surface, some beginning to stream down your face and others just dropping from the sheer amount that had welled up. It wasn't until gojo turned his head, eyes landing directly on you and smile completely dropping that your legs became unstuck.
Your breath hitched, crackling sob breaking through as your saliva grew sticky. The extra drinks sure to make you vomit after this. You spun so fast you lost balance for a split second on your heels, immediately righting yourself and pushing through the sweaty bodies blocking you in. You didn't say sorry or excuse me, just pummeled through, desperate to get outside so that maybe you could finally breathe. You felt like a pig in makeup, and the thought made you cry harder. So beyond embarrassed, having dressed up and done your hair and makeup, mortified that everyone else thought you looked just as ugly and silly. You had to get out of here, the air was too thick and stuffy as the walls closed in on you.
Your name fell on deaf ears, sprinting out the front door and down the porch steps, surroundings a blur from not only how fast you were moving, but the alcohol that coursed through you. You knew the gifts were stupid, sure, but everything else? The kiss? He wanted to gag? All the times he called you pretty, beautiful, yes, it was more than plausible that it was a lie, but why did he say it all then? That's right, because you were supposedly just a fucking bet.
Who would willingly want to be with you?
Gojo called your name again, louder. You weren't the only one sick to your stomach. He cursed, heart dropping to his ass as the overwhelming suffocating feeling of guilt bloomed inside of his chest, heart quite literally constricting at how shitty, how fucking disgusting, he felt. It spread throughout him and he would've thought it was dramatic if it didn't feel like he could currently drop to his knees and heave. The entire situation was beyond fucked up, everything a misunderstanding and completely not at the same time.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he repeated, hoarse and panicked as he immediately trailed after you, abruptly leaving the conversation mid sentence, not caring how he looked when all the guys stared at him in confusion. He lost sight of you for a moment but knew you'd only try to leave, escape the perfect hell he had just created for you.
Why the fuck did he do this? How the fuck was he gonna make this up to you, and why had he let himself get involved in this shitty idea anyway? He knew he should've called it off, he knew he had fallen for you.
Muttering insults as hands came out to grab at him, others trying to talk and some pulling him in for a dance. He didn't look, didn't care who they were, practically throwing and shoving their hands off him with only you in mind. He would explain everything to you, lay himself bare and expose the ugliness and insecurities that festered inside of him.
He had been projecting this entire time, exhausted from maintaining such an ugly facade of the frat fuckboy, desperately trying to fit in with everyone else that he stupidly agreed to the bet just to feel some type of belonging and companionship. All at the expense of you.
He didn't think, that was his issue. So caught up in this fake lifestyle that he knew the act wasn't just pretend anymore, his morals slipping by the day as he settled into this new once foreign character. They were all fucking assholes. All of them.
Fingers tightly clenching your almost dead phone, you bawled, frustration making you grit your teeth in additional annoyance when the sidewalk wouldn't stay straight. Accidentally stepping off the concrete, your heel caught on the edge, sending you falling onto all fours on the pavement, too drunk to care about the pain that shot up your wrists and knees. You let out a guttural infuriated noise, a mix between a squeal and growl, feeling so much more than just pissed and heartbroken. You furiously smashed your palm against the concrete as if it held the blame.
“Fuck, hey, shit, are you okay??”
Gojo's palm rested on your back and in the blink of an eye you stumbled up, whipping around to face him seething and disgusted as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.
“Don't fucking touch me,” you spat backing away from him as if he had physically struck you, and at this point you thought you would’ve almost preferred that over the gut wrenching feeling in your chest. There was a physical pain that tore throughout you, your heart feeling like sharp talons had ripped it out and stomped on it like an attempt at snuffing out a flame.
If you had it in you, you would’ve laughed at his expression, so devastated and hurt and torn as if he wasn't the one who caused all this, as if he wasn't the one who could've prevented everything. He had the audacity to stare at you like he was scared of losing you.
“Please, please y/n, i can explain, I am so sorry, please,” and it was as equally pathetic as it was infuriating. gojo pathetically begged, arms awkwardly reaching towards you as if you were the solution.
You paused, tongue loose and words slurred, staring at him bewildered as you threw your palms up. He wasn't who you thought he was. Or maybe he was exactly who everybody said he was and it was your fault for thinking otherwise.
“I thought you liked digimon??”
He swore, hands coming up to drag down his face. You saw. Saw your cookies and the keychain you bought him in the garbage.
“That wasn't me, I swear, please believe me, I swear- I-I got back from class, one of the guys saw and- and started laughing, they took it from me before I could even say anything. They tossed it, and I swear, please believe me, I was gonna grab it after, I-I love Digimon, I loved your gifts, please.”
He was breathless now, a fruitless panicked attempt at defending himself.
You scoffed. “Sure it wasn't too much?”
Gojo winced, hands curling. “I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it like that-” You cut him off, angrily sniffing and wiping your bloody gravel pricked hands against your black mini skirt. God you felt ridiculous.
“Yeah?? Which fucking part??” Your voice raised an octave, almost yelling but you didn't care as passerbyers turned their heads. You spewed the words, moving forward just to angrily shove at his chest, blood smearing his white shirt. Good, you wanted to stain his shit, wipe your blood all over it.
He took advantage of the proximity, quickly but lightly wrapping his large hands around your wrists to keep you close. You screeched, thrashing in his hold, weakly trying to hit him, shove him, and with his loose grip, he let you, your small fists pounding against his hard chest
“Im sorry, Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry, I like you- I like you so fucking much-”
A broken sob escaped you, a mix between a snarl and cry getting stuck in your throat.
“I didn't mean anything I said in there, I loved kissing you, you’re beautiful - fuck, you’re perfect, you’re so fucking perfect and- and you know me, the real me, I feel like I can be myself with you, please please please, im begging you, let me explain everything- from the start.” He was frantic, words rushing out so fast they blended into one. His eyes were glossy and rimmed red and you knew it wasn’t from whatever drugs he had done.
You stilled your hits, pausing in his hold. Rapid breaths mingling, chests quickly falling and rising, faded background music from the frat echoing into the night.
“Please.”
Gojo spoke it like a prayer, voiced with despair and a frenzied anguish that he knew deep down would do nothing. He would continue to beg, to plead with you, to reason, but deep down, he knew. Your chin dropped to your chest helplessly, a small hiccup squeezing itself out as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes felt swollen from how much you had cried, but you had plenty left.
You could feel gojo guide your palms to rest against his chest, a new set of bloody hand prints against the stark white, heart thumping like he'd just ran a marathon. You slammed your eyes shut, new sobs threatening to break loose, the feeling of wanting to curl up and die had never been more prominent.
“y/n, I'll do anything, please- please, I don't-” and his voice cracked, fingers tightening around your wrists. “I don't want to lose you- Im so, Im so sorry, baby.”
Your breath hitched, lips curling and fingers twisting into his shirt to bunch the fabric beneath your fingers. The agony and discomfort in your chest was painfully overwhelming, silently wishing you'd wake up from this nightmare, wishing you never heard him, trying to wrap your mind around how and why he would do this to you. You’d never understand, would never gain pleasure from hurting anyone, let alone, him.
“What did I ever do to you?”
The words came out small, so small and fractured and so confused, seeking an explanation or reason that could maybe get the two of you past this- that maybe you must've done something to deserve it and the two of you could come back from this, but you knew it was all for nothing. For no reason at all.
Gojo's eyes flashed with guilt, anger, and shame. He wanted to recoil, wanted to throw his head into his hands and sob, but he didn't want to let you go. He knew it would be the last time. Your gaze didn't meet his.
He swallowed, throat stinging and eyes burning. He regretted everything, internally begging to take it all back like some upper power would hear him and turn back time.
“Nothing, you didn't deserve this- you did- did nothing.” The words caught as his voice wavered and you wondered if he was crying. You refused to look at those eyes. His fucking blue perfect eyes that bore into you like you mattered- it was all lies- he had lied to you for months- almost an entire semester. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, attempting to stifle the wail you wanted to blubber out. It had been months.
Months of getting to know one another, of a build up, of a hope for something more. The silliest stupidest notion that for once someone found you valuable too and it wasn’t one sided.
A shallow gasp, an unintentional whimper, your shoulders shook as you wept.
“I wish I never met you, g-gojo. I would never-” a cry broke your words, tensing up as you angled your head down to hide your uncontrollable tears. He wanted to correct you and tell you to call him satoru or toru, but he stayed silent, let the sting burn. “Never hurt you like this.”
You shakily exhaled, not paying attention to his mindless small whimpers of “I know, I'm so sorry, I know, please.”
You gripped the fabric tighter, lifting your head to finally meet his eyes, hating how he was crying, how he genuinely looked heartbroken at hurting you, how you hated seeing him like this. His chin wobbled, breath coming out in unsteady pants and for once, he didn't look like the notorious frat boy who could conquer anything. He looked small, like a scared little boy.
Unsteady shaky hands lifted to gently cup your cheeks, gojo preparing himself for you to yank away from his touch like it burned. He sniffled when you didn’t, perfect lips shiny and slightly parted as he fully rested them against your soft skin.
“I never want to see you again.”
His composure shattered, immediately shaking his head murmuring “no’s”, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your skin and under your eyes as he repeated the same words over and over again. You pushed him back roughly with all your drunken force, which wasn't much, but enough to send him stumbling backwards to create distance.
He was alarmed, not at what you had done, but at watching you walk away, brain filling with nothing but no no no no no please, please stay, stay with me stay.
“Y/n, no please, baby, baby, y/n, please hear me out- please-” his voice was shredded, raw from drinking and yelling and begging, but he didn’t care. He’d beg and beg until he had no voice left, and when it was gone, he would find another way.
For a moment, you paused, and he thought that maybe, just maybe you would listen. But when you slowly turned to him, looking so fucking beautiful still as street lamps glistened in the reflection of your eyes, cheeks shiny and tinted pink from the tears that painted your cheeks, it all clicked. It was torturous.
“Fuck y/n, please, I-I love you. I’m so,” he swallowed to ease the scratchiness of his throat. It did nothing. “I’m so in love with you,” and he whispered the words, loud enough so you’d hear, but almost as if they weren’t meant for you, as if he was just talking to himself and unintentionally said the realization aloud.
He watched as a lone tear dropped down your cheek and it was cruel. He was cruel, you were cruel. Standing there so perfect and so beautiful while you broke his heart, and it was all his fault since he had done it first. The silence was thick as the two of you stood feet apart, wordlessly staring at each other, letting his words hang in the air. You opened your mouth and shut it, letting the process repeat as you mulled over the words in your head, wishing more than ever he hadn’t said them. Wishing more than ever you didn’t feel the same.
“I’d pick you, over and over again Satoru, every time, in a room full of people. Everyone would,” you huffed a fake laugh, blinking away your tears as you stared into his dumb perfect eyes. “I thought-” your lips quivered, chin wobbling at the humiliating admission. “I thought for once, someone had finally picked me.” The words slowly fell from your lips, laced with what one could only describe as pure heartbreak.
Gojo felt the final blow split his heart, not a clean cut, but a jagged uneven slash that cleaved it in two. He called your name, desperate and all, watching you spin on your heel and angrily walk away, your perfume hitting him as the wind blew.
He stepped forward- yelled your name again. But you didn't turn, didn't peek, didn't flinch as you sobbed, fingers constantly wiping your eyes to see where you were going as you drunkenly walked back to your apartment. Cried for yourself, mourned who you were becoming, who you were becoming with him. You had fallen in love with him too, of course you had. He was so easy to love.
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Frankly, Mr. Gojo — in which frat boy! gojo swears on everything that he is not in love with his tutor.
frat boy! gojo is not surprised to say the least when he gets asked to stay after class by his professor to discuss his grade. and he couldnt care less when one of the biggest parties of the year was coming up meaning he was responsible for picking out the theme. “so, what’s the verdict?”
“the verdict is you’re not going to pass this course, satoru. may i kindly ask of you to please put down your phone for just a second?” you could clearly hear the distress in the professors voice.
“hold on i wasn’t talking to you,” satoru interrupted. “me and my brothers are trying to figure out what the theme of our next party should be. i’m thinking teen beach, does that sound good?”
the professor took a deep breath, mentally calming himself from lashing out at his own student. “there won’t be any party of yours if this grade doesn’t get fixed.”
that certainly got satoru’s attention.
satoru hears the same scolding coming from his parents later that evening.
“we did not pay the school to allow you to enter just for you to pull this—“
“you guys paid the school?” satoru’s brow shot up.
“oh my god.” his mother whispered under her breath, moving her hands away from her husband's shoulders. “you really think they’d allow you to enter with that high school transcript?” mr. gojo gritted out. “you have exactly two months to get them up before the end of the year.”
frat boy! gojo hummed then shrugged. “Shucks, guess there’s nothing I can do. how about I just drop out and take over the company like you’ve always wanted me to.”
“satoru gojo.” the man’s voice boomed throughout the kitchen. he pointed a finger at Satoru, gritting his teeth. “you will finish college and you will pass.”
satoru’s groan was muffled by his hand that dragged down his face. “I know.”
“no! you do not!”
“alright, honey, calm down.” mrs. gojo placed her hand on his back, rubbing it to prevent him from screaming more. she turned to face satoru. “I will hire you a tutor, sweetheart. your father is right, you have to finish school. then we will talk about you overtaking the company.”
“alright.” he sighed.
“two months.” his father raised two digits up.
frat boy! gojo didn’t expect his tutor to be this pretty. the second you walked into the living room where him and his mother sat, his eyes lit up. you sat down on the couch the maid directed you to, flattening down your skirt as you took in your surroundings.
“hi honey, it’s nice to see that you made it.” mrs. gojo reached out to shake your hand which you happily complied. she turned towards satoru. “this is my son. i’m sure you guys attend the same university, no?”
frat boy! gojo wants to groan at the whole situation. great, not only was he being forced to get extra help but the help is coming from another school mate.
you’ve seen him around sometimes. usually with his hand squeezing a sorority girl’s ass or driving way too fast in the parking lot.
“mhm.”
“Have you ever tutored anyone before?” She asked.
“uh.. yeah.” you blinked, composing yourself again. “my younger brother. he has a hard time grasping math so-”
“great.” the woman interrupted. “how often will you be available?”
“I guess almost every day-”
“4 pm after school, weekends at 1.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, becoming frustrated at the fact you could barely finish your sentence. “I take care of my brother on weekends.”
“oh.” she paused. “you can just bring him along then.” she cleared her throat, continuing. “the pay will be good, I can promise that. I expect you to bring satoru’s grades up before December.”
you nodded.
“when will I start?”
“right now.”
frat boy! gojo froze. “right now? i’ve got something going on in the frat in half an hour!” he quickly shut up with the look his mother shot him.
despite never interacting with satoru, unless you count that one time he almost ran you over, you knew how unapproachable he was. If you weren’t what he perceived as hot, he wouldn’t bat an eye at you. luckily for you, you're somewhat his type...
“i hope you two get along. Well, I got to get going now. your father is waiting for me. happy studying.” she kissed satoru on the cheek, grabbing her purse to leave.
the door shut, leaving the two of you.
you rocked back and forth on your heels as satoru clicked away at his phone, probably texting his friends how his mom actually got him a tutor. “so, um, what classes are you having trouble with.”
frat boy! gojo exhaled deeply, almost annoyed you even dared speak to him. “biology, mostly.”
“oh! i'm also taking that right now as well.” you sat down on the seats surrounding the kitchen island. “are we in the same period?”
“don’t know. It’s a pretty big class.” he stated the obvious, sitting down as well. “how long is this going to last? I’ve got a party to plan.”
of course he did. “shouldn’t take longer than two hours I think.”
he groaned. “seriously?”
“well, we can try and finish in an hour and a half. let’s just start with the basics of biology. do you have your textbooks?”
satoru sat straight up, suddenly looking suspiciously happy. “yes, I do. they’re upstairs. I’ll be back.” he excused himself, running up to his room.
You tapped your fingers on the island, waiting patiently for a couple of seconds.
Then the seconds turned to minutes.
frat boy! gojo had escaped his room, jumping out his window, breaking his fall with a pile of bushes that were put underneath. he had to attend the frat meeting.
safe to say, he got a good scolding once again when he got home.
“When I tell you that you need to raise those grades up, I mean it, Satoru!” Mr. Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the living room.
You were sat next to Mrs. Gojo on the couch while he and Satoru were standing with the white haired boy getting lectured by his father.
He cowered. This was so embarrassing.
“The frat needed me at that moment.” Satoru explained.
“I don’t care! Your mother hired this lovely girl to help you out and you disrespected her by leaving her!”
You wanted to sink into the cushions when Satoru glared at you.
“You pull this shit again, I force you to leave that stupid frat of yours. You are not a teenager anymore, you are a goddamn adult. Act like it.”
Mr.Gojo left the room fuming, heading to his office.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife and the silence was way too loud. You cleared your throat, slowly standing up. “I should uh, get going.”
Mrs. Gojo nodded, rising from her spot as well. She planted her hand on the small of your waist, turning to her son.
“Walk her to her car.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary-” You tried to say.
“And you apologize to her.” Her tone was stern.
frat boy! gojo rubbed the bridge of his nose, motioning for you to follow him to the entrance. Neither of you said anything on your little walk.
Eventually you reached your car. He looked like he was about to say anything. But he didn’t. Not a goodbye nor the apology his mom asked him to say.
“Asshole.” You mumbled under your breath, giving his muscular back a glare.
The next day wasn’t any better.
He’d ignore you, sigh dramatically, and roll his eyes like a spoiled teenager every time you asked if he could do a question.
“Okay,” You skimmed through his written response. “This isn’t quite right, Satoru.”
“You don’t get to call me by my first name.”
Now it was your turn to resist rolling your eyes. “Try again.”
He snatched the paper from your hands rudely, erasing his original answer. This routine continued. Satoru would constantly give you a hard time, refusing to communicate with you properly. The cycle continued until one day, you studied up in his room instead of in the kitchen.
frat boy! gojo stared at you with an annoyed expression on his face. Have you not taken the hint that you were not wanted nor needed here?
“Back again I see.” His voice came from behind, staring daggers into your skull.
You turned around in the spinny chair, facing him. “Well, I am being paid to be here so yes, I am back, again.”
Satoru scoffed, sitting down on the empty seat next to you.
On the kitchen island were all kinds of papers and textbooks, all spread out and ready to be used. Doing all of this on a Saturday night was insane. He could be out partying right now, getting drunk off his mind.
“I have made it pretty clear what I think of you.”
“What you think of me does not matter. I’m not doing all of this because I care for your grade or I like you. I despise you actually,” Satoru felt his ego get bruised at that. “I was hired by your mother so unless she decides she doesn’t want me tutoring an ungrateful brat like you, I’m not going anywhere.” You shot back. “Now, turn to page 19, I expect you to be finished with chapter two by the end of today's session.”
Satoru’s eyes widened, completely surprised with you snapping at him. He judged wrong.
You weren’t a shy nerd he could just push around, you had some bite.
And he liked it.
His hands began moving by themselves at your order, opening up his book while fighting back a smile.
thats because it was the beginning of his little crush on you.
frat boy! gojo stopped making you two study in the kitchen and instead offered to go up into his bedroom instead.
“Didn’t take you for a geek.” Your eyes traveled throughout his room, taking in the shelves full of figures and manga. His walls were full of posters, not leaving one bare.
Satoru let out a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his head.
“Guilty pleasures.”
You hummed, sitting down on his bed.
He bit back a groan, finding himself somehow getting turned on by you being in his room, let alone on his bed.
“Oh, my brother watched this one.” You pointed at the Digimon figure on his nightstand. “Yeah?” He eventually joined you, scooting close. “Kids got good taste then.” His eyes flickered down to your lips, gulping.
You turned to face him, taking notice of his attention being on your lips.
“Got that one at..” Satoru mumbled quietly, itching closer. “At the.. Fuck.” He placed his lips gently against yours, angling his head to the side.
You immediately melted into the kiss, putting your hand on his cheek.
“You’re a good kisser for a virgin.” He licked your bottom lip, seeking entrance.
“I’m not a virgin…”
“No?” Satoru moaned when you granted his access, tongue dancing with yours before exploring every inch of your mouth. “
frat boy! gojo swears the kiss meant nothing. that he was just going through ovulation, even though boys don't go through that. so why does his heart keep going mile per hour at the memory of your soft lips on his?
nothing more happened than that, immediately after, you two went back to studying. but he oh so wanted to taste you in other places.
frat boy! gojo starts doing much better on quizzes thanks to you. you were so patient with him even when he repeatedly got things wrong. you started sitting on his lap to get him to focus more.
"every time you get something correct, I'll let you kiss me.
and he was on a streak. he answered questions quickly, pressing his lips on yours in a sweet peck before asking for the next question.
frat boy! gojo swears he isn't in love with you, but his frat bro's would beg to differ. they took notice of his change of attitude and lack of participating in frat meetings.
GETO
you coming tonight? we're gonna go out & drink
GOJO
nah, im busy
GETO
w ur tutor gf?
seen
frat boy! gojo blushed at the idea of calling you his girlfriend. what exactly were you anyways? study partners with benefits? he would feel the way you'd grow wet when you sat on his lap, he knew you wanted more just like him.
even when he did attend the sorority girls parties, the feeling of another girl feeling him up didn't hit the same. they weren't you.
"satoruuuu.." the blonde slurred out, drunk out of her mind and grinding her heat on his thigh. "let's go up to my room. I miss you."
"Uhhh," he looked around, trying to find a nearby exit. "Alright, let me go get a drink real quick and I'll meet you upstairs."
a smile broke out on the girls face, nodding. "okay!"
long story short, he didn't go upstairs.
frat boy! gojo still jerks off daily. but instead of pulling up pornhub or twitter, he pulled out your instagram profile that he had found a week ago - without your knowledge.
nothing got him off anymore unless it was you.
the little photos you had posted up were practically burned onto his phones screen form how much he's viewed them. "fuck, fuck!" he winced when his dick twitched in his hand.
you looked so beautiful today, with your plaid skirt and cute top. he wanted to rip it off your body and fuck you already.
frat boy! gojo still swears on everything that he isn't in love with you! but he's going out before study hours to get you and your mom a bouquet of flowers before heading to your house.
"you always come here, but I've never seen your place." he once commented.
"ah, well," you leaned back onto his chest. "it's not as luxurious as yours."
"you think I care?" he placed his chin on your shoulder, biting lightly at your neck. "do you like that?" he asked, rubbing his hand on the inner of your thigh.
"y-yeah.."
frat boy! gojo got along with your family right off the bat, sitting next to you on the dinner table, chatting with your brother as you all ate. he wished that this was a regular occurrence. would it be if he was yours?
he still swears he isn't in love with you when your mom showed him a baby album of yours.
"oh my god-" you tried snatching it from his hands, but failed.
"you're so cute, look at you." he showed a picture of you riding a pony. you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, hiding away behind your hands.
frat boy! gojo SWEARS he isn't in love with you, but when you asked him to stay the night, he agreed. He laid bare next to you, arms around your body, still placing kisses on your back.
"I love you." you whispered softly.
satoru smiled, bringing you closer to whisper back into your ear.
"I love you too."
frat boy! gojo accepts the fact that he's loved you ever since you stepped foot into his life.
This is the second comic in my Open World AU, where Caine and Kinger work together to make the circus more "human-friendly", including always-open personalized worlds and more bodily autonomy. Pomni and Jax discuss their newfound ability to change their clothes as they wish.
⊹ bf!megumi who accidentally starts measuring time by you. Not dates or schedules—just you. "The café you liked opened around the time we started dating." "I bought this book when you were obsessed with that detective show." Somehow, every memory gets filed away with you attached to it.
⊹ bf!megumi who acts like your teasing doesn't affect him at all until one perfectly timed comment leaves him staring blankly at a wall for the next ten minutes. He'll recover eventually. Probably.
⊹ bf!megumi who owns dozens of photos of you and absolutely none of them are normal. Half are blurry candids he took without thinking. The other half are screenshots from video calls where you were making ridiculous faces. He treasures every single one.
⊹ bf!megumi who gets irrationally attached to random objects because they remind him of you. A pen you borrowed once. A hair tie left on his desk. A receipt from a convenience store trip. He'll keep them for months without realizing.
⊹ bf!megumi who learns your footsteps. You can be halfway down a hallway and he'll already know it's you. Everyone else sounds the same. You don't.
⊹ bf!megumi who starts sleeping better after you enter his life and never makes the connection. He just knows the nights feel quieter somehow, even when you're talking his ear off before bed.
⊹ bf!megumi who claims he doesn't care where you eat, then immediately vetoes every restaurant except the ones he knows you'll enjoy.
⊹ bf!megumi who gets weirdly competitive over the most random things. Not sports. Not games. Things like who can spot the neighborhood cat first or who remembers a movie quote correctly. He refuses to admit defeat.
⊹ bf!megumi who has a habit of collecting things he'd normally ignore because they remind him of you. A seashell from a beach trip. A pressed flower that fell out of a book you lent him. Little pieces of moments he'd never admit are sentimental.
⊹ bf!megumi who always notices when you're overstimulated before anyone else does. He'll quietly guide conversations away from you, move you somewhere calmer, or offer an escape route without drawing attention to it.
⊹ bf!megumi who becomes alarmingly soft around animals whenever you're present. It's bad enough that you caught him baby-talking one of his divine dogs once. He threatened to deny it until the day he dies.
⊹ bf!megumi who secretly likes hearing you complain about minor inconveniences. Not because you're upset—because he loves how animated you get. You'll spend ten minutes ranting about a rude cashier while he's sitting there thinking you're the most interesting person in the room.
⊹ bf!megumi who develops the habit of checking a crowd for you first whenever he arrives somewhere. Before he looks for friends, before he figures out where he's sitting, before anything else. His eyes automatically search for you.
⊹ bf!megumi who has exactly one favorite sound and it's your laugh. He'll never tell you that, though. He just finds himself causing trouble every now and then purely because he knows it'll make you laugh again.
⊹ bf!megumi who loves you so quietly that most people miss it entirely. Then they notice the way his eyes find you in every room, the way he unconsciously angles himself toward you, the way his entire expression softens whenever you speak—and suddenly it's impossible to miss.
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a/n: hi hi !! its my first time writing for gojo in i think like a year ish ? so im a bit rusty on his character i hope this isnt toooo ooc !! please let me know what u guys think :3 i will try and write more for him :D
satoru gojo doesn’t hate many things in life, his list is quite short. but at the very top of his list? he fucking abhors the fact that you don’t live with him.
he frowns when you kiss him goodbye at the end of every date, pouts when you pack your clothes the morning after sleeping over and whines when you tell him his least favorite five words.
“i have to go home.”
“sweets this is your home,” he frowns, his fingers still intertwined with yours as he pulls you closer to him, placing a soft kiss to your cheek. you can’t help but smile at his words.
“satoru,” you sigh out, he huffs at your tone, placing a sloppier kiss to your jawline before burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“can’t you just move in already? how many more times do i have to ask?” his words are muffled against your skin, his snowy hair tickles your neck as he places another gentle kiss on you.
“for starters you’ve asked me once,” you state, satoru grumbles at your words, “and plus i don’t wanna seem like a leech.” satoru immediately strands up straighter as your words, mouth slightly open in shock and brows furrowed.
“sweetheart.” his voice is deeper than you’re used to, gaze more intense than you ever remember it being. you swallow harshly, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his gleaming blue ones.
“you realize everything I have is yours? i don’t care about anything if it’s not for you.” your eyes lower to his chest, he’s quick to put his finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“i bought this house because you liked it. i decorated with that art piece because you said it would look good. we went shopping for bedsheets together. you bought me houseplants!” you try and protest he cuts you off with an ‘ah!’
“you have access to my bank account and have my black card. i want you to rely on me, i want you to have what’s mine. you could never be a leech, because I’ve already given you all that’s mine.” he smiles down at you for a moment, dimples adorning his cheeks as he thinks for a moment, “well almost everything.”
you furrow your brows, “what else is there to give?” you almost regret the question as soon as you ask it, a small giggle leaves satoru’s lips before speaks again.
“just my last name, but i already have that planned out,” he says simply, as if it was just another item to be added to a grocery list.
you don’t say anything, eyes widening as you realize his implications. your hands fly to your mouth in shock, “satoru!” your heart beats erratically in your chest, he was going to propose?
“I meant it when i said you’re the only one for me, sweetheart,” he places sloppy wet kisses to your face, finally slotting his lips against yours. you reciprocate quickly, melting into his touch.
“so? will you move in with me?” he mumbles the question against your lips. you smile, pressing a soft peck to his lips before pulling away and looking at his hopeful expression.
“‘course i will angel boy,” you smile, heart fluttering at the way his eyes sparkle at your words. his arms curl around you tighter, laughing in excitement as he pulls you on top of him.
satoru moved everything of yours into the house the next day. he had added your name on the lease of the house when he first bought it.
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