āĖąæ SYNOPSIS When your boyfriend is too chicken to break up with you, he sends his nerdy twin to do the dirty work. The leather jacket is a decent touch, but the personality is a dead giveaway. Instead of getting mad, you make him your personal tutor. As the lines between you blur, you realise you're falling for the man behind the glasses, leaving your ex to wonder exactly who is getting replaced.
āĖąæ nerd!satoru x figure skating!reader
āĖąæ cw: college au. idiots in love. academic stress. hurt/comfort. suggestive themes. smut. dry humping. oral sex. f!receiving. gagging. tags will be updated.
part 3 wc: 4377 series masterlist main masterlist
The air in the bedroom was completely still, but inside Satoru Gojoās head, an entire universe was building itself. It was 3 AM. The glowing screen of his laptop cast a stark light over his face, reflecting in the glass of his lenses as he stared at a thread titled: āHow to be a good boyfriend.ā
He hadn't slept a single wink. The moment he had walked through his front door after leaving the ice rink, after hearing you say yes, after realizing that you were officially his girlfriend, his brain had instantly gone into overdrive. He was a genius. He could calculate the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle in his sleep. But this? This was a completely different territory. He had spent the last four hours frantically taking notes, reading terrible relationship advice blogs and Reddit to figure out how to be the best boyfriend.
Every few minutes, the sheer reality of it would hit him all over again. He would abruptly slam his laptop shut, bury his face deep into his pillow, and let out a muffled, high-pitched scream of pure glee, kicking his legs like a chaotic teenager. You were his. He actually got the girl. And he was extremely terrified of ruining it.
The immediate result of Satoruās overnight research became apparent the very next morning.
"Okay, Iām going to go. My class is starting," you called out, sitting on the small bench by his apartment door as you slipped on your sneakers.
Inside the bathroom, the loud hiss of the shower suddenly cut off with a violent, screeching snap of the handle. A second later, the bathroom door flew open, and a desperate shout echoed through the apartment: "WAIT!"
You blinked, freezing with one foot half-in your shoe as Satoru came skidding around the corner. He stopped in front of you, breathing heavily as if he had just sprinted a marathon across campus rather than a hallway. He was completely soaked. Drops of warm water and shampoo were clinging to his white hair, tracing lines down the sharp, pale planes of his collarbones and sliding down his broad, bare chest. He had nothing on but a single white towel hitched dangerously low around his waist, and his cheeks were flushed a bright pink.
"What's wrong?" you asked, your eyes widening at the sudden franticness. "Did something happen?"
Satoru just stared at you, his blue eyes wide and intensely focused, before his gaze flicked down to the door. With an air of absolute seriousness, he stepped past you, reached out, and gripped the handle.
He swung the door open for you with a dramatic flourish, standing tall and proud even though he was actively dripping water onto his own wooden floor. According to Blog Post #7 Chivalry Isn't Dead, a boyfriend should never let their significant other open a door in their presence.
"Okay," Satoru panted, a smug grin spreading across his damp face as he looked down at you. "Have a good class, sweetheart."
You let out a stunned laugh, looking from his proud expression down to the puddle forming at his bare feet. Before you could even tease him about his dramaticness, Satoru leaned down. His bangs brushed softly against your forehead as he caught your lips in a quick, lingering goodbye kiss. His large hand resting gently on the small of your back for just a second, leaving a patch of intense warmth through your clothes, before he pulled back, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Go on," he murmured, shooing you out playfully. "Don't be late. I'll be waiting right here."
The best boyfriend behavior didn't stop there. The next afternoon, the two of you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the student lounge. You were casually rambling about your favorite foods, completely relaxed as you described a specific restaurant you loved, when you noticed his fingers moving at an unnaturally high speed.
Satoru was staring intently at his phone, his thumb flying across the screen with a hyper-focused expression that usually meant he was solving a problem.
Curious, you leaned over his shoulder, your chin practically resting on his collarbone as you peeked at his screen. Satoru didn't even try to hide it. Opened on his screen was a meticulously organized table in his notes app, complete with bolded headers and neat bullet points.
MY GIRLFRIEND, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
LIKES: vanilla mocha, spicy food, QUESADILLAS
DISLIKES: running, loud chewing, losing at board games
NOTES: Bites the left side of her lip when sheās deeply focused, blushes a lot
You stared at the screen, your face instantly flushing a violent crimson. "Satoru... what on earth is that?"
He didn't look up, his thumb casually tapping in another note. "Hm? Oh, itās just data collection. Iām documenting your preferences in case my memory retention drops.
"You are insane," you whispered, burying your burning face into his shoulder, though your heart was hammering against your ribs at how incredibly attentive he was.
You were sitting on the wooden bench of the locker room, utterly exhausted after a grueling three-hour group skating session with your coach. Your muscles ached, and you were lazily tying your hair up into a messy bun when the locker room door swung open.
Shoko walked in, her expression completely deadpan as she carried a massive, surprisingly heavy brown paper bag. With a heavy sigh, she dropped it right onto your lap.
"What's this?" you asked, blinking down at the oversized bag.
Shoko rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, leaning her back against the lockers as she crossed her arms. "There is a giant, white-haired menace standing right outside the locker room. He intercepted me on my way in and practically shoved that into my arms, claiming his āstudentā required immediate glucose replenishment before her cognitive functions collapsed."
A helpless, bubbly laugh cut through your chest as you pulled the bag open, the sweet scent of freshly baked pastries instantly filling the air. Tucked neatly between two boxes of gourmet tarts was a small, torn piece of paper.
In Satoru's elegant handwriting, it read:
āEat up, beautiful. I got you the best flavoured onesĀ
P.S. You looked incredible today. I was watching from the upper deck. Don't tell your coach.ā
"Anddd," Shoko added, her voice dropping into an amused drawl, "he is currently getting absolutely reamed by the athletic director for being inside the facility during private team hours."
Your heart stopped. "HUH?" you gasped, your head snapping up. "What do you mean he's getting yelled at? Why are you just standing here letting him get in trouble?"
"Hey, now," Shoko said, raising her hands defensively with a lazy smirk. "I'm just practicing my medical skills, the coach knows I belong here. He, on the other hand, looks like a lost kid trying to blend into a rink. Go save your boy."
You didn't even finish tying your sneakers. You practically sprinted out of the locker room, pushing through the double doors that led out to the main lobby.
Sure enough, standing right outside the heavy glass doors of the rink was Satoru. He was currently being lectured by a stern, red-faced director who was gesturing wildly toward the 'No Unauthorized Personnel' sign. Satoru, who usually held himself with a terrifyingly smug arrogance, looked completely pathetic. He had his hands jammed deep into his pockets, his shoulders slumped, and his bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. He looked exactly like a dramatic cat that had been locked out of the house in the rain.
The moment his blue eyes caught sight of you through the glass, his entire face lit up. Not caring that he was being yelled at anymore, he gave you a small wave, his lips forming a silent 'Help me' that made your heart completely melt.
You needed to do some deep-dive research for an advanced physics project, and Satoru, eager to flex his academic power, had smuggled you into the university library's Restricted Archives, a locked area at the very back of the library reserved strictly for research assistants and professors.
The atmosphere was quiet and smelled of old leather and dust. You were standing between two tall, towering rows of antique wooden shelves, carefully flipping through a rare manuscript, while Satoru stood close behind you, his chin resting lazily on the top of your head as he turned the pages for you.
Suddenly, the heavy click of the archive's main electronic door echoed through the silent room.
The slow and distinct footsteps began to echo down the concrete aisle. If you were caught in here without a clearance pass, Satoru would instantly lose his research privileges.
Before you could even panic, Satoruās survival instincts kicked in. His hand shot out, wrapping securely around your waist and with a single, effortless lift, he yanked you backward into a tiny, narrow broom closet tucked into the dark corner of the aisle.
The slatted wooden door clicked shut just as someone passed the row.
The closet was incredibly small, completely trapping the two of you in a pitch-black darkness. There was absolutely no space to move. Your front was pressed entirely flush against Satoruās broad chest, your knees tangled between his long legs. The scent of him, that intoxicating mix of expensive cologne and the faint, sweet trace of the pastries he always ate, instantly enveloped you, making your head spin.
The footsteps outside slowed down, stopping right in front of the closet door.
In the agonizing, heavy silence, you could feel everything. Because you were pinned so tightly against his chest, you could feel the rapid, frantic thumping of Satoruās heart hammering violently against his ribs. It was wild and chaotic, his chest heaving slightly against yours.
Slowly, his large, warm hand traveled up from your waist, his long fingers gently cupping your jaw. His thumb began to smooth over your cheekbone in a slow, rhythmic stroke. Even in the dim light filtering through the door slats, you could see his blue eyes. His glasses had slipped down his nose and he was staring down at you with an intensity that looked like he was in a complete trance, utterly consumed by your closeness.
He leaned his forehead down, resting it gently against yours, his breath hot and shallow against your lips as he whispered in a low murmur that sent a violent shiver down your spine,
"If they catch us...this is so worth losing my assistant privileges."
The bass thumping through the floorboards of Tojiās house was a heavy vibration that rattled straight through your brain. The air inside was a suffocating mixture of cheap vodka, cologne and the humid body heat of a hundred students crammed into a single living room.
Shoko had practically dragged you out of your dorm by your wrists. She was entirely burned out from her grueling medical school assignments, her eyes carrying dark circles that even a full nightās sleep wouldn't fix. āIf I look at one more anatomy chart, Iām going to lose my mind,ā she had deadpanned, tossing a pair of shoes at your feet. You hadn't fought her on it. You were drowning in your own stress from the upcoming figure skating finals, and the thought of hiding in a loud, dark crowd where no one was looking at you sounded like paradise.
Of course, the one person you actually wanted by your side was not here.
Hanging out near the kitchen counter, you held a red plastic cup filled with something sweet and carbonated, watching Shoko lazily chat with Suguru Geto. Your thumb hovered over your phone screen, the bright light illuminating your face in the dimly lit corner.
Satoru: Rescue me, please, I'm dying š
Satoru: I am sitting in a room with men who smell like old chalk, listening to a professor explain gravity like itās a new concept. My brain is physically melting. Are you having fun?
Satoru: Have fun. But not too much fun.
You swallowed a giggle, a small smile tucking at the corners of your lips as you locked the screen. Even stuck in a grueling two-hour physics seminar, he was a dramatic menace.
"Who're you smiling at?" Shoko's voice cut through your thoughts. She was leaning against the counter, a cigarette between her lips as she raised an eyebrow at you.
"Nobody," you lied quickly, clearing your throat. "Just a spam text."
Suguru let out a low, knowing chuckle from behind his cup, his eyes danced with silent amusement. "Right. Spam. Well, the music's getting better. Let's move before the wrestling team takes over the floor."
For the next hour, you let yourself get lost in the rhythm. The three of you moved onto the crowded dance floor, laughing and joking around. It was loud and exactly what you needed to wash the taste of ice rinks and strict training schedules out of your mouth.
But the bubble popped the moment you stepped away to refill your drink.
Leaving Shoko and Suguru laughing under the strobe lights, you wove through the sticky, sweating crowd back toward the kitchen. You had just raised the ladle to pour more juice into your cup when a sudden shift in the crowd caught your attention. A tall, broad shoulder cut aggressively through the students, heading straight for you.
Your breath caught. Your heart dropped like a stone into your stomach.
He stopped right in front of you, his eyes wide in absolute, genuine shock. He looked unkempt, his jacket slightly rumpled, his jaw tense. For a second, he just stared at you, his chest heaving as if he couldn't believe you were actually standing there.
"Uh... hi," Toru stammered, his voice thick. Before you could even open your mouth to respond, his fingers clamped tightly around your wrist. "Can we talk? Please."
He didn't listen. With a rough, desperate tug, he dragged you out of the crowded kitchen, pulling you down a narrow, dimly lit hallway near the back of the house where the music was muffled.
Since the breakup, Toru had been entirely miserable, or rather, his massive ego had been. He had just gotten back from his trip, and according to the campus gossip, he had been fully expecting you to be a sobbing mess. He had expected you to beg for his forgiveness, to text him a million times while he was gone. But you hadn't even sent a goodbye, let alone check his social media.
Now, realizing he was losing his grip on you, he tried to turn on the old charm. His expression softened into a practiced pout as he stepped closer, his hands reaching out to touch your arms.
"Baby... I'm so sorry," Toru murmured, his voice dropping into a breathless, desperate pitch. "The whole thing... it was a mistake. I miss you so much. I swear I was just in a really bad headspace. Let's just go back to my place, okay? Let's fix this."
You stared at him, your eyebrows furrowing in absolute disbelief. What kind of logic was that? The sheer audacity of his words made you want to laugh out loud.
"What is wrong with you, Toru?" you snapped, tearing your arms away from his touch. Your voice was icy, cutting right through his gentle act. "Are you even hearing yourself right now? Is a bad headspace really your excuse? We are done. Get out of my face."
You turned on your heel, ready to walk back to Shoko, but the sweet, apologetic ex-boyfriend facade shattered in an instant, replaced by a bitter sneer as his ego snapped.
"You think you're something special now, don't you?" Toru called out loudly after you, his voice dripping with venom as you walked further down the hall. "You need me, baby! Are you sure you can even do this yourself? You're going to choke at the finals!"
You expected to feel a sting, or perhaps a tear prick at the back of your eyes. But as you kept walking forward, your chest felt incredibly light. His words didn't affect you a single bit. You had completely, entirely moved on. Toru was nothing but a ghost from a past life and his desperation was almost pathetic.
Feeling a little suffocated by the encounter, you decided to head upstairs to find a quiet bathroom, wanting to splash some cold water on your face to wash away the annoyance.
The second floor of the house was quiet, the hallway lined with bedrooms. You were walking toward the light at the end of the hall when a door suddenly flew open. Before you could even register the movement, a strong hand clamped securely around your waist.
With a breathless gasp, you were yanked directly into a dimly lit bedroom.
The door slammed shut behind you, and you almost screamed, your hands flying up to push against the person, until your eyes adjusted to the shadows.
Standing over you was Satoru.
Your jaw dropped. He was dressed in an elegant, tailored black suit and a tie, his crisp white collar framing his jaw perfectly. His glasses were pushed slightly down his nose, allowing those striking blue eyes to peer down at you. A soft, breathless smile played on his beautiful lips.
"Oh, my pretty girl," Satoru murmured, his voice a low tone that instantly melted the tension out of your spine. His gaze ran all over you, drinking in the sight of your dress and your flushed cheeks.
"Satoru!" you whispered-yelled, your hands gripping hands in utter bewilderment. "What are you doing here?! Don't you have your seminar right now?"
"How could I stay there," Satoru asked, his voice dripping with a deep warmth as he stepped closer, "knowing my girlfriend wanted me to go along with her? And then Suguru texts me a picture of you all... did you really think I could sit through a physics lecture after seeing you dressed like this?"
Before you could reply, Satoru gripped your waist and backed you up forcefully until your spine hit the heavy wooden door with a solid thud. He reached over your shoulder, his long fingers twisting the lock with a sharp click.
He completely towered over you, his massive frame shielding you from the rest of the world. He reached up, his warm hand cupping your jaw, his thumb smoothing over your lower lip before he leaned down and crushed his mouth to yours.
You melted against the wood instantly. A soft whimper escaped your throat as your fingers clawed into his suit collar, pulling him closer. Satoru groaned into the kiss, tilting your head back to deepen it, his tongue parting your lips with a desperate, hungry insistence. The taste of his intoxicating warmth flooded your senses. As he pressed his body completely flush against yours, you could feel a hard, unmistakable bulge pressing directly against your thigh through his suit pants. You both rubbed against each other, your hips involuntarily shifting against his as the kiss turned wild and frantic.
Right at that exact moment, heavy, stumbling footsteps stopped directly outside the door.
"Hey..." Toruās voice muffled through the heavy wood, sounding thick and miserable. "Open the door... please. Look, Iām sorry. I shouldn't have said that stuff down there. Just talk to me."
Inside the room, your heart was violently spiking. Your eyes flew wide, and you instinctively tried to pull back from the kiss, but Satoru didn't let you go. His blue eyes flashed with amusement as he heard his brother's voice.
Slowly, Satoru pulled his lips away from yours, his breathing ragged. He reached up to his neck, deftly unbuttoning his top collar button before sliding his tie off his neck in one smooth motion.Ā
He folded the smooth silk tie neatly. "We have company outside, sweetheart," he whispered against your ear, "Try not to be too loud."
Before you could even ask any questions, he guided the fabric between your teeth, wrapping it securely behind your head and tying it tightly. Your gasp was completely choked back, reduced to a muffled, helpless whimper against the tight gag.
"Good girl," Satoru murmured.
Without a single drop of warning, the campus genius dropped straight to his knees on the floor, sliding his body between your legs. Your breath hitched behind the tie as his hands shakingly slid up your calves, tracing the lines of your legs up to your thighs. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, his fingers twitching as he shifted it completely out of the way.
"You're... you're so beautiful," he whimpered softly, a quiet noise of adoration escaping his throat as he stared at your exposed skin. He looked entirely overwhelmed. His fingers slipped under the edge of your panties, moving them completely to the side. He took a sharp, shaky breath, his eyes locking onto yours for one final, questioning second, before he buried his face directly into your core.
The moment his tongue hit your clit, any trace of his innocence was completely shattered into pure freakiness.
Your eyes widened instantly. Your legs buckled so hard you would have hit the floor if Satoruās grip hadn't locked onto your thighs, holding you up.
He began to eat you out with a terrifying, wet intensity. His tongue swirled over your clit, sucking softly at first before pulling harder, his tongue moving up and down the length of your sensitive slit. The pleasure was so sharp, so overwhelming, that you had to press your back harder into the wooden door, gripping the doorknob behind you to keep the frame from rattling.
Satoru was completely losing his mind down there. He used his tongue to agonizingly trace tight, teasing circles around your aching clit, his own breath hitching as he whimpered again, completely intoxicated by your taste. And then, just as your hips bucked and you were a second away from shattering, he suddenly pulled back, his mouth dripping and his face completely flushed.
You gasped through the gag, looking down at him with an expression of pure, betrayed agony.
Satoru looked up at you through his messy white bangs, his lips parted, panting as a low whine left his throat. He looked so completely wrecked by how much he loved this, before he went right back in, licking up and down your wet slit with an even faster, deeper rhythm.
You bit down on the tie so hard your jaw ached. Fat, silent tears of unbearable pleasure began to roll down your flushed cheeks as your body lost all control. You bucked your hips helplessly into his face, your fingers tearing at his white hair as you tried to scream, every sound reduced to a choked, breathy whine behind the gag.
Outside the door, the knob rattled slightly. "Look, don't be like that," Toru knocked again, his voice sounding entirely clueless. "I was just joking about the finals. Are you crying in there? Just come out."
Inside, you were completely losing your mind. The thrill of his brother standing inches away while Satoruās wet mouth destroyed you was too much. Satoru looked up at you through his long white lashes, watching your head roll back against the wood, your teeth biting down desperately on his tie. A triumphant grin spread across his lips. He deliberately wrapped his fingers around your hips, anchoring you to his face, and sucked your clit harder than he ever had before.
That was the final push. A violent, shattering orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs completely lost their strength, but Satoru held you up firmly, his tongue continuing to greedily lick up the sweet mess you were making, riding out the waves of your orgasm until your thighs stopped shaking.
Even after you calmed down, Satoru stayed on his knees. He wrapped his long arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach, planting soft, worshiping kisses over your skin.
By the time he finally stood up, the hallway outside was dead silent.Ā
Satoru reached behind your head, gently pulling the damp tie from your mouth. He tossed it onto the bed, then used the pads of his large thumbs to tenderly wipe the silent tears from your cheeks, his blue eyes overflowing with a quiet adoration.
Two weeks later, the campus rink was bathed in bright lighting.
Toru pushed through the heavy double doors, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was walking down the stairs to the rink, but stopped dead in his tracks.
Out on the ice, you were just finishing your routine. You glided through a flawless routine, your body moving with an effortless grace that made his chest tighten with a familiar regret. He had been a fool to let you go.
Taking a deep breath, Toru adjusted his jacket, preparing to walk down to the ice to try and talk to you one last time. But just as he took his first step, you glided toward the boards on the far side of the arena.
Standing by the player's gate was a tall man.
Toruās eyes narrowed as he focused on the figure. The manās hands were shoved into his pockets, his hair strikingly white.
Satoru? Toru thought, his brain short-circuiting in absolute confusion. What is he doing here?
As Toru watched, completely frozen, you slid up to the boards. He saw as Satoru didn't hesitate before reaching his hand out to cup your flushed cheek, leaning over and tilting his head to press a soft, lingering kiss directly to your lips.
When he pulled away, you didn't look flustered or angry. Instead, you let out a bright, dazzling smile, the kind of soft smile you had never given Toru during your entire relationship.
He watched as Satoruās fingers slid down from your cheek, wrapping gently around the back of your neck, his thumb caressing your skin as he looked down at you. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire universe.
Standing in the shadows of the lobby, Toru felt the last remnants of his ego completely shatter. He finally understood. You didnāt need him anymore, because you had the better Gojo already.
notes:
I got the pic from pinterest howver if someone knows the artist, could you please tell me?
divider credits: @sisterlucifergraphics
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