@m0onb3lly - Tumblr Blog

birds of a feather

The boy who was your first kiss that night on the roof top observing stars can't be the Satoru Gojo that stands in front of you now. Once a sweet, shy nerd with his head in the clouds, now he's the popular all star football player and frat leader. You hated him for so long when he ran away after that kiss and avoided you, but what you don't know is Satoru always thought of you. Now at the same university, you're scared of falling again. You two couldn't be more different - are you still the same kids on that rooftop, and why did Satoru run away from it?

pairings - fratboy! gojo x art school! reader

warnings - College AU - Gojo was a nerd who broke your middle school heart, light angst, first loves, a ton of smut, lots of banter, sexual tension, drinking, fingering, oral (f and m receiving) p in v sex, talking you through it, choking, spitting, car sex, creampies, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, he's down bad (reader is described as being taller and lil' curvy as requested! and she pierced hehe) fluffy ending!

art in the center is by @httpgiovann on X!

This was a commission piece for grungy art school reader and all star football player Toru, with childhood love finding each other again, long oneshot at 20.5k wc!!!

You never thought you’d see Satoru Gojo again.

You're tugging at the ripped hem of your fishnets. Junior year of college, finally at university instead of community. You're smart, but procrastination's a bitch – community college was your only option for a while. Now you’re met with a myriad of familiar faces, friends and acquaintances, but no one like him.

No one who literally was your first fucking kiss, the boy who was nerdy, sweet and shy – who captured your lips, who faltered and flushed. The one where you thought of him so often, after having your family move so far out of town, you never thought you’d see him again, never dreamt of it.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t just university material, he was ivy league, him even being here was a little bit of a throw off, then again you didn’t really know much about him and his life after you all stopped talking. You’d heard things about him being very successful, of course everyone knew the Gojo family, but you tried not to perk up your ears too much, to think too much on it.

Yet here he was in the flesh – nothing like the boy you knew back then. In fact, if it weren’t for the shock of white hair and the unmistakable blue eyes, you might not have even known it was him. You’re sure he probably doesn’t remember you, running across that football field, those numbers in bright maroon across his white football jersey.

He’s laughing with that big grin – no more glasses, no more braces – he’s even more handsome, sure, but there was something about Satoru Gojo with glasses that had been charming in itself. He high-fives his best friend who you recognize a bit as well – Suguru Geto. The pretty cheerleaders are throwing up their pom poms, it’s a dance of glitter and maroon outside of the stadium.

It’s the day of the first big game of the season, you’re just casually watching, more and more curious about him then. It must be him, there’s no other man that even looks like that. Yet, everything about that nerdy boy who loved to look at the stars was utterly different.

He was different.

When those blue eyes hit yours, you don’t like that fucking feeling, not at all… whatever the fuck he does, his snowy lashes flickering as he drinks the sight of you in curiously. You have curves now, you’re taller, you’re not the same girl you were at thirteen than you are at twenty one. You tremble just a bit on the inside, but on the outside?

Bitch face on.

You just look at him, raising a brow curiously, the preppy football captain staring at the goth girl in the stands, it’s the shit movies make fun of, bright and popular Gojo, and bratty emo you. You look down quickly at the book in your hands, leaning back against the metal bleachers, but you feel them lingering along your skin.

That gaze burns into your skin – Satoru Gojo’s gaze – the one that was once behind thick tortoiseshell glasses, the boy who bumped noses with you and apologized. The one who was a blushing mess for you, now instead is surrounded by his teammates, by the cheerleaders, all flocking and complimenting their star player.

Just who was Gojo these days, and did you care?

You hastily go back to your book, earbuds just blaring music at you, trying to keep out the noise, the cheering, the whistles, sketching the scene just a bit. That was the assignment – draw the football practice, something for ‘school spirit’ apparently. Your fingers brush along the parchment, shading and fading the pencil marks a bit, before pausing.

Fuck, you’re drawing Gojo.

Your eyes go back over to him now, to where he’s downing some gatorade, snapping a selfie in front of the team, earning their playful shoves. It’s hard to take your eyes off that familiar face, god he got even taller? You were a taller girl yourself, but Gojo was towering over even the bigger football players, a good head taller than most of them.

Oh, and he’d gotten buff too. You can’t help but notice that fact, he was still lanky and maybe the shoulder pads from his football jersey were adding to it, but it was just impossible not to notice. The things it did to your tummy, the way that it fluttered just watching him run across that field made no sense.

Weren’t you finally over it?

You’d moved on from a middle school love, you had a part time job, college, responsibilities out the ass. You had boyfriends and breakups, a whole life since then – making it feel so distant, so far away from that girl. Yet all it took was just observing him to make you long for something you never really had.

You’re a realist, cynical, not some day dreamer despite being an art school major, you painted and drew what you could see, of course your interpretations came into play, but your head wasn’t in the clouds.

Or was it?

You soon pause and notice you’re drawing glasses on Satoru – a very detailed rendition of Satoru – before you could stop yourself, chuckling a bit diabolically as you make him look more nerdy. You likely look batshit insane to anyone else. You really can’t say that you care much, the opinions of others never really bothered you once you got old enough to practically hate everyone.

So how did you kiss Gojo back then? Nerdy rich-boy Satoru and you, even back then it didn’t make sense, but you could swear your teenage heart fucking felt something. Only for him to blush and avoid you, to practically hide away after it until he moved on, that day he’d given you the first heartbreak, and become someone you avoided like the plague.

Yet still even after those years and all the boys since then, something about him always bothered you, it always got to you, lingering in your mind like the most annoying pest. Just last night you’d dreamt of him so randomly – not how he looks now, no, the skinny nerdy brat that made you cry, not this popular jock with a blindingly straight white smile in the middle of a bunch of cheerleaders.

He’s flirting right back with them, earning your eye roll, as you decide to draw braces along his teeth, and a digimon on his football jersey.

Just as he should be.

You’re laughing and so lost you barely notice Satoru walking up to you, not until he’s blocked your natural sunlight with his huge body, shade covering your notebook. You frown, earbuds still in, lips turning down a little bit at the sudden shade, while Satoru studies your notebook and the drawing, snatching it up and making you gasp.

“What the fuck?” You yank out a earbud, glaring up and standing, fuck he’s even taller than he was before, you don’t usually have to look up at many people, but he’s got a good six inches or so on you.

He’s smirking at the drawing, taking it in and stepping on a higher bleacher, holding the pad from you. “Look at that, aww!”

“Give it back, you little brat.”

He snorts, looking down at you, blue eyes glinting with the way the sun is hitting them. You won’t admit how fucking pretty they are to yourself, instead glaring up at him. “Me, a little brat? Have you seen yourself?”

“Psh,” you’re standing and reaching your arm up as he looks at you, blue eyes running over you with a curious expression. “Seriously go away.”

“You drew me?” He asks, tilting his head to the side and assessing you, you’re not sure if he recognizes you at that moment.

You’ve changed a lot too.

Would he remember some dumb crush he maybe had on you? It was nowhere close to what you felt, clearly. No, that’s nonsense, as is his effects on your physiology being too close. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you’re so fucking embarrassed at being caught doodling him, but you don’t let it show.

You’re not that girl anymore, not the one who cried over his little nerdy ass and his perfect, plump lips and his -

Stop that!

No, you’re tougher now.

You snatch your notebook back, but only because he lets you. “Yeah, so? It’s for an assignment, I needed to draw school spirit.”

He snorts. “School spirit, you, yeah I don’t see it.”

“Well I’m not peppy like you, no, you’re the big football star, right?” You say with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

Satoru just chuckles. “You’re brand new here and assume I’m the star, I guess I am that amazing,” he runs a hand through his strands, snowy white and so soft you can’t help but want to reach out and tug at them at the roots.

When did his chuckle get so deep?

When did his fingers get so long?

Fuck stop thinking that!

“I know you,” he says suddenly, eyes narrowing slightly. “You used to live down the street from me.”

“Me? Uh, no way,” you look down, brushing silky locks behind your ears, doing something to Satoru Gojo then. “Don’t know who that girl is, nope.”

“No?” You shake your head, a pink decorating your cheeks, hair falling just a bit in front of your face, making him want to brush it back – but you make him feel so nervous, as if he’s just a fucking teenager again. “Ya really tryin’ to play it off?”

He remembers it all, even as he’s trying to play it off, like he hasn’t dreamt of what would have happened if he didn’t get so shy, so nervous around you after you both kissed. How he could have maybe just asked you out, or at least told you he liked the damn kiss – but Satoru at that age was a nervous little mess, and you were too damn pretty.

Fuck you got hotter, curves filling out in places that drives him to distraction, your slutty little outfit doesn’t help either. He can’t help but notice the hint of piercings where your pierced nipples were clearly puckered up from the cold, making him throb from just that. Satoru isn’t some little nerdy virgin anymore, but precum is leaking from the sight.

If he wasn’t such a conceited little shit he’d immediately simp for you, but he pulls himself together, smiling down at you, snowy lashes lowering. “You’ve not changed that much, and I know you remember me.”

Your heart skips a beat then –

He remembers.

You look away quickly, pretending to be busy packing your stuff to suddenly leave, bending over so he gets a nice view of your ass. God, if you were his? He wouldn’t let you bend over in front of fucking anyone at all, nor would he let you out of the damn door like that, not because he was a man to tell a girl how to dress.

No, the reason would be he wouldn’t be able to let you walk out without filling you with so much cum you’d drip him, you’d remember who you belonged to.

Fuck, thinking like that is insane, it’s not even in his nature – whatever psycho, obsessed ass thoughts that just ran through his head. Your hips are just begging for his hands, your eyes looking up at him like you need to get off, and get off all the time, he’d take care of that for you.

Sinking to his knees on these fucking bleachers runs through his head – all star football, frat leader, most popular guy in college Gojo, reduced to that, to simp behavior.

It's not like he’s hurting for women, they’re all over him, but you’re…

Different. He supposes you always were, the stark contrasts to the girls that were just all over him, the ones that have left their cotton candy body spray clinging to his clothes, you’re not smiling all cute and giggling, not flattering him with little compliments– nah, you’re fucking scowling.

It’s so hot on you.

What’s wrong with him? A blast from the past and he’s down that bad again? Palms sweaty, stammering Gojo?

“Fine, okay – I am. Just… that was a really long time ago. I didn’t think you’d remember,” you finally mumble, like the vulnerability itself hurts. Satoru steps closer, watching your lips part, hearing a sharp intake of breath.

You could act normal all you wanted, but he sure the fuck could read that body. Curvier, taller, but still uniquely you, that scent that has been burned into his senses gently filling his nostrils, while the wind of the fall whips your skirt around. It shows far too much of those thighs, which he can vividly imagine being pressed on either side of his head as you press them together.

“Something got ya excited, sweetheart?” He taunts with a grin, his voice lowering to a seductive tone that makes you wet.

Fuck him for that.

“Hah, me? No, I’m annoyed and…” You peer down at your nipples cursing internally. “And I’m just like cold, okay you perv!?”

“They’re distracting as fuck,” he said that out loud, shit, shit, shit. Play it off, Satoru. “Hah – at least they seem to like me.”

“They do not!” Your glare just makes him wanna know how you look with your mouth open and drooling, with your eyes rolled back in your skull. “Neither do I.”

“Well,” he draws out that word, laughing softly then. “I remember everything about you.”

Oh shit.

“Especially that kiss.”

You freeze, your cheeks flushing despite yourself, trying to seem unbothered, god he’s gotten cocky, the girls are shouting his name like his own personal fucking cheer. “They want you,” you clap your hands and throw em in the air – “Gojo, Gojo, he’s our man!”

You’re mocking him, mocking them, earning his eye roll. “Ah, so you’re just avoiding the answer? You are her…”

He says your name, and just that almost does you in, though you roll your eyes, scoffing.

“Yeah, so what if I am? That kiss it was…” The best you’ve had, and you hate his ass for it, so badly your fingers itch to smack the nerd back into him. “That kiss was like just a peck, really. You know.”

“Ah, so you do remember?”

“Barely!?”

He grins, that cocky jock smile that makes you want to punch him even more. “Then why are you blushing like that?”

“Hah, blushing, me? Nev-”

Before you can finish your comeback, his coach calls him away and whistles, waving at Gojo to come back. Satoru sighs, then winks at you. “See you around, sweetheart.”

That’s what he says!?

“Hey!” He turns and raises a brow, smirking. “I’m not your sweetheart!” You shout out, earning the looks of everyone, but Satoru just fucking grins like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

You watch him jog back to the field and look far too good doing it, your mind racing, seeing him gather up with the team. When did his shoulders get so damn broad – No.

You better stop thinking that way, looking right at him in the damn open like that, and you can tell he’s loving it, especially when he blows you a little kiss and earns your middle finger. Not like it bothers him, he just raises those white brows, wriggling his stupidly long fingers at you.

What the hell just happened?

And why does your heart feel like it’s about to beat out of your chest?

You sink back onto the bleachers dejectedly, your fingers trembling as you flip open your notebook again. Staring at the sketch of Gojo, you realize you’re in for quite a fucking reunion with him, feelings simmering under the surface that you hoped were long, long gone, but now he’s there – in the flesh, looking far too fucking good, suddenly back in your life.

Popular, perfect, pretentious.

He’s nothing like the boy you remember.

*****

Satoru remembers that night vividly – the night he ran away from you.

It all smacks him in the face as he lays in his bed that night after running into you again. The guys from the team all wanted to go out but he couldn’t bring himself to, instead he laid there and pictured you behind his gaze. He saw you across the hall the other day for a brief moment, but before he could even approach you, you turned a corner and dipped.

You’re not really what he remembers any more than what you likely remember – no you were a nerdy little thing just like him in middle school, shy little thing. You were sweet – shit, you even smiled. Now you just have this bitchy, mean look on your face – one that makes him throb just looking at if he’s honest.

You look so fucking angry at him, at everything.

Closed off, that’s the word, your guard up high, leaving him to just wonder exactly what was in your mind, what you’ve been through all these years that he’s missed. He had tried to somewhat explain himself in high school to you, but you weren’t having any of it, already becoming closed off, your eyes just didn’t glimmer the same way, and he can’t help but feel responsible.

You say it was nothing, but he remembers all of it.

“Satoru, I really like you, more than a friend…” his heart had hammered in his thirteen year old chest, his palms were sweaty.

Satoru had planned to ask you out that day officially, but last night his parents had found his note he’d written – immediately recognizing your name. You weren’t from a ‘prestigious family’ no, far from it. You weren’t the ideal girl that they’d eventually want their son with, even this young they’ve damn near planned everything, down to the three other families he would likely marry.

How could he have anything with you knowing they’d potentially make that choice for him? How could he break your heart like that, even if he knows that he is falling for you, there was too much pressure on him as a Gojo – you already had enough pressure too. He couldn’t just do that to you, bring you in on this world of his.

You were crying that day, and he didn’t know how to say the truth, no, instead he cupped your face and softly kissed you one more time. A brief press of his lips before he had to pull back. His glasses were fogged from his breath and the chill in the air that morning as you looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say in response before stepping back.

You’d blinked back tears of confusion, your hands clenched at your sides. “Satoru, I can just be your friend, if this is too much,” you mumbled, but he was backing away even more from you. He watched as your lips trembled and tears fell from your eyes. “Do you not like me back?”

No, Satoru loved you.

Enough to not have you anywhere near his family, to fall for a boy who would one day have everything chosen for him.

“I really am… sorry,” he said again, turning and hearing your little sniffles, it had broken his heart. “I have to go.”

“Go where? Satoru, come back I didn’t mean it, okay? Satoru!”

He’d run off, and he’d never forgotten it.

Now, far from his parents' bullshit, finally having told them he’d make his own path in life and that they couldn’t dictate his every move anymore, he’s thought of the girl he sacrificed all those years ago. The one he let slip away because he was too afraid to stand up to them back then.

In a way, his parents ultimately have some control still, their expectations linger – but he’s made sure to pave his own way. Got better at telling them to fuck off, decided to make his own path forward, even if it meant doing things the harder way. The guilt about that girl still eats at him sometimes, late at night when he can’t sleep, but at least now he’s living on his own terms.

His eyes drift shut and he pictures you, the way you bent over, the way you looked at him, and fuck if it doesn’t just make him ache. Was there some way to get you to even talk to him again?

*****

You’re headed to your art class when Satoru Gojo happens to walk by and just slams right into you – you can’t make this shit up. Your pencils go flying, scattering and clattering to the floor in a mess.

“Shit,” you grumble, snatching up what you can, Satoru bends down to help you, chuckling. “What's so funny!?”

“How much are you gonna draw me, hmm?” You curse as a little chibi Satoru lands in his big ass hands. “Aww look! I have a tail here in this one, how cute.”

“It’s not you,” you snatch it back, crumbling the paper ever so slightly, scowling in his direction. “It’s not!”

“I’m your muse,” he flutters his fingers around dramatically, garnering looks in the hall. “I feel so special.”

“You’re not,” he pouts all cutely. “You're always just… in my way.”

“You smacked into me, sweets,” he tilts your chin up right there in the damn hallway, smirking as people around you whisper. “I'm flattered you find me to be such an inspiration for your art, but you do know you could just ask me to pose for you.”

“Hah. You're not at all,” you gather everything with haste, slipping them in your book bag. Satoru's grin is as attractive as it is obnoxious, but when two girls come up to him when you walk away, your head feels dizzy.

Why would you care if his arms are around their shoulders, throwing his head back and laughing just a bit. Yet he looks back at you, those eyes slipping over your baggy shirt and sweats, you couldn't be bothered today to dress up.

Not when you spent all damn night dreaming of dumbass Gojo.

“I can't wait to see another drawing, I really am looking forward to the next drawing, maybe I’ll have some ears too.” He teases you, your damn cheeks burn in embarrassment, before he turns, you flip him off. His damn chuckles echo in the halls, mixing with the little giggles of those cheerleaders.

“Hehehehe,” you mock their laughter to yourself with your fingertips to your lips, echoing in the halls and earning more looks around you.

Great, what an amazing first week, you're really living up to the weird art nerd dream so well. You just glare as meanly as you can – at damn near everyone. “What are you looking at?”

They see, to scatter, you’re trying to shake off the feeling of his damn fingers brushing against yours when you see a sweet girl who's been really nice to you so far, waving your way. You knew her a bit from school and she wasn’t too in your face about making you socialize, just enough to make you leave your room.

“Utahime,” your dorm is right next to hers, she has been trying to get you to hang out but you're a tad introverted. And Satoru running around being all… hot and shit is just annoying. “How are you?”

“Good! Ugh, exams already though,” she shakes her head and sighs. “Listen I know you're not a party girl, but there's a really good one this weekend. You should come!”

You sigh. “I don't know…”

“Seriously there's the frat yeah, but they're like… a nerdy frat? If that makes sense.”

“It does not,” you both walk through the halls and outside, you take a little hint of sunshine, eyes shutting for a moment as you suck that in. “Nerdy huh?”

“Very, the mathletes of the Fratboys,” you can't help but laugh a bit. “It's at eight we can go together?”

“Sure,” she almost squeals, you shake your head. “Don't get too excited, I may go in there then run out.”

“No way it'll be fun!”

*****

Fun.

Fun is not a word you'd use to describe this party, seeing Satoru and all his friends – many of whom unfortunately recognize you – with girls all over them, chugging their drinks from their red solo cups. It smells far too much like axe body spray and victoria’s secret perfume, aside from Satoru’s fancy fucking cologne that permeated the heady atmosphere, straight to your senses.

That cologne that’s three hundred dollars a spray likely, that intoxicating scent that damn near makes you salivate, seeing his blue eyes over that cup, his lips pressed against the white edge of that cup. Everyone is surrounding him, he’s throwing his head back in that perfect laugh, blindingly white teeth glinting underneath the strobing led lights overhead.

You sip your drink as a guy comes up and tries to hit on you, but your mean little scowl makes him back up, Utahime is laughing as she watches them all run off.

“You really do hate parties, huh?”

“Just don’t want some loser touching all up on my ass,” you mumble, feeling the gaze of Satoru damn near burn you across the room. “But yeah, I do.”

“You should let loose and have some fun,” she teases, seeing where your gaze is headed, pausing. “Oh god, Satoru huh? He’s so pretentious.”

“Right?” You pause then, frowning a bit.

It was one thing for you to think it, to say it, but for some reason hearing anyone else say something bad about Satoru made you irritated, like you should defend the boy he was, not knowing the man he’s become. Would you ever really know, it’s not like he likely wanted more than a hook up judging from what you’ve seen and heard.

Yet you remember a different Satoru.

Or is he the same?

‘Look, this constellation is called Sagittarrius,’ Satoru’s thirteen-year-old voice echoed in your memory as clearly as if he was standing beside you now. His thick glasses slid down his nose, his Digimon t-shirt swallowed his lanky frame, the two of you sitting up on the roof of the school.

‘Like the sign?’ You asked curiously, you loved hearing Satoru talk about the stars – you just loved hearing him talk about anything.

There was a meteor shower that night, and a lot of students were coming up to join you all, to catch sight of something that you all would likely not see again until you were good and old. Satoru had his telescope set perfectly, looking down to see you sitting on the floor, pausing.

‘You’ll get cold,’ he had nervously snatched his sweater up off the railing, then knelt to you and slipped those sleeves up your arms. The warm fleece of the backwards hoodie made you tremble just a bit, your heart had been racing. ‘There.’

‘Oh, thank you Toru,’ that’s what you called him all those years ago, when you were hopelessly in puppy love with a boy that had his head in the clouds. Yet you were so sure maybe he saw you, too, especially in moments like that.

You had leaned close, wondering if that was to be your first kiss, only for him to awkwardly brush your hair back like you’re a puppy and he’s petting your damn ears.

‘You look cute like this,’ he’d said, his blue eyes were glowing behind those spectacles, and that was when you knew -

Gojo was it for you.

The dissonance between that boy and the man that was in front of you was hard to explain, Utahime didn’t likely know about the Satoru who’d cried when his favorite character died in his favorite anime, nor did she likely know that Magic card collection he used to have. How could someone meld the two versions together?

“Definitely pretentious,” you murmur thoughtfully, trying to act casual when you can’t take your eyes off him, and you hate that. Utahime snorts in laughter, snapping you back to the frat house’s chaos, away from your daydream.

“Oh god, he’s coming over here,” she grumbles, your fingers tightening around your plastic cup as he suddenly breaks away from his little fan club, blue eyes so goddamn bright they’re hard not to look at.

“Why’s he coming over to us!?” You panic, heart racing as he walks over, one hand with a cup in it, the other tossing a pong ball up and down.

Why was Gojo doing things with just one hand so damn attractive!? Why was he so attractive?

"Still allergic to fun?" Satoru asks Utahime with a mean little smirk, then looks at you. “The two most un- fun girls at my party, aw.”

“Un-fun isn’t a word,” Utahime says, snorting. “I’m just allergic to you.”

Satoru laughs at that, tossing the ball up and moving his hand behind himself to catch it, grinning right at you, earning a roll of your pretty eyes. God they’re pretty, he’s lost in them for a moment even as he puts on his show, plays the role of the frat leader that everyone loves so much.

He was having fun in this role, until you.

“So…” he tugs at a lock of your hair, you smack his hand. He tries to ignore the overwhelming desire to pull it as he hits it from the back.

Or with your lips wrapped, that dark lip shade he wants to smear with his tip, leaking pre from whatever scent that was you’ve always had… vanilla, sugary, something so… homey. He can’t describe it, but it’s nowhere but on you, he’d smelled that scent across the entire field the first time he locked eyes with you again, wondering if it was in his imagination at first.

“So what?” His gaze slips down to your fishnets, imagining the sound of them when he ripped them in half.

“Beer pong competition, are ya up for it?” He tosses it again, swirling the little ball between fingers too big to make sense, ones fucking you up.

“I’m not gonna stay here long,” you grumble, eyeing the large table surrounded by drunk college students. “I just… don’t do parties.”

“A game or two then, hmm? Or are you too scared to lose?”

You snatch the pong ball from his hand, earning his big grin.

“Not at all. Game on.”

If there’s anything you are – it’s competitive, and Satoru Gojo clearly is competitive from birth. Even when he was a nerdy boy, he had no problem decimating anyone in any subject, whether it was debate team or the mathletes, and beer pong was no different.

Pleased smirk on his face, he’s tossing the ball only for you to smack it out of the way on its bounce, making him fucking glare over at you. Satoru’s jaw sets when you bounce one and he flicks it so hard it smacks into the wall, making you glare right back. He tosses another and lands it right in your front cup with a splash, grinning diabolically in victory.

You roll your eyes, leaning forward just a bit, making his eyes dart to those pretty tits in that lacy bustier that fucks with him to distraction. Satoru practically can see those nipples about to bounce out, imagining how perfect one of those peaks would be in his hungry mouth, fingers damn near itching to grip one.

God he hates whatever this effect is you have on him.

He fumbles the next ball because of the sight of them, earning your said tits bouncing, pointing at him and laughing like the little fucking menace you are. Everyone around you both has gathered, starting to place bets, making Satoru even angrier when several men check out that ass.

It’s not like you’re his, fuck you don’t even like him – and he knows it’s probably due to back then. But he’s pretty sure his mouth could make you like him, if you just gave him enough of a chance. Satoru clears his throat, shouting your name across the pong table, giving you pause now.

“Guess what?” He says, walking over to you, holding his hands up to signal a break, you walk to him, crossing your arms, the little open hoodie falling off a shoulder.

He runs his fingertips across the bare skin, making you tremble just a bit, eyes dilating from just that – that’s when he knows, despite all your shit talking and avoidance, you want him too. Maybe not as badly as he wants you, but it’s there, goosebumps on your skin, making you tug it up and raise a brow.

“What, scared I’ll beat you?” You demand, he just chuckles, shaking his head and yanking your messy ponytail too hard again. “You’re such an ass!”

“A bet, best two out of three wins,” he challenges, sipping his drink, a little bit dripping on his plump lips, making you ache to swipe it away with your fingers, but you hold yourself back, flushed now. “Ya up for it?”

“I’m up for anything,” he grins deviously, and you curse. “Shit what’s in that head, lemme guess – public humiliation?”

“Well it’s in my head now,” he sips that drink again, as if to torture you. Why do you have to be ovulating and also buzzed around him!? “But no, sweets.”

Your eyes roll. “What’s the bet, then?”

“Well…” His fingers slip across the line of your jaw, your breath catches in your throat at how good they feel. “You said anything, right?”

“Out with it.” You smack his hand off. “You’re a menace to society, truly.”

“Says you,” he steps too close – why is this fucker so tall by the way!? – making your head tilt back a bit, but you luckily have on heels, making you a little closer to his height.

Satoru loves that.

He loves that he could bend you over in those heels and stuff you so full of his cock, sure he’d have to bend down a bit, but you’re goddamn near the perfect height for it. Except his thoughts right now aren’t necessarily of him fucking your surely pretty cunt… no.

“If I lose, I’ll eat your pretty pussy out,” you gasp now, hating that his husky words in a voice that’s too sexy to belong to this nerd makes you throb around nothing. “What, haven’t you done it yet?”

“Sure I have,” Satoru scowls. “What, you think I’m a virgin?”

“No…” He wishes he could have it first, it’s a fucking batshit thought and nothing he’s ever felt.

He didn’t want a virgin and doesn’t care about a girl’s past, never has, he likes experience. But he’d love to have slipped inside your cunt first – came inside it, made sure it only knew his shape. Toxic nonsense but how can he not when it’s you, the girl who’s been in the back of his mind for most of his life?

“Then why are you blushing again?” He touches your cheek, lips curved up, you just narrow your eyes at him.

“M’not…”

“You always do around me,” his thumb slips down your jaw line. “I’ll eat you better than anyone, you won’t even be able to stand up when I’m done.”

“You’re the most conceited, cocky ass man ever I swear…” You trail off just a bit though, thinking about it, his long fingers inside you?

Fuck….

“Conceited, hmm?”

“Will you finger me too?” Satoru blinks in surprise, and you blush more. “Can’t use both at once? Amateur.”

“You’re a slutty little thing, aren’t you?”

He tilts your chin up, your silky locks falling partly out of that ponytail over your pretty face. God he’s leaking too much pre, sticking to his jeans to the point that anyone could see his huge dick print at this point.

“You want my fingers?”

“They’re… well, long, okay?” His laugh is deep ass, seductive ass way that isn’t even fair to your fucking ovaries. “Don’t get too flattered.”

“All right, I’ll use them both, since you’re greedy,” your walls clench just picturing those thick fingers, damn him. “If I lose, that is.”

“And if I lose?” You take a sip of your drink, and his face is devious. “Oh god, you want a blow job, huh?”

“You’ll still cum, sweetheart,” he taps your nose and it scrunches up, making him think how cute you were for an evil succubus. “You’ll get my fingers then too, but not my mouth.”

“Well…” That sounds like a win either way, it’s not like you don’t want that thick cock in your mouth, looking down at the outline then.

If you can fit it all, that is.

“If you lose I won’t get you off,” you just smile all meanly at him. “You can jerk it in front of me though.”

“You’re so evil,” he sighs, god he needs you – mean thing that you are. He’s shaking his head, snorting – as if he wasn’t going to jerk his cock eating your pussy. “Deal.”

“But just know… we aren’t cool, just…”

“Just you wanna fuck me?”

“Hah – no!? I’m horny and competitive,” you shove him now. “Go on, you’ve got a game to lose.”

“Psh,” Satoru thinks he’s still as in love with you as he’s always been, when you were a sweet little thing. God, maybe he’s more in love. “Practice working that jaw, you’ll need it.”

You scoff and shove his big ass again, running back to your side of the table, shaking your head and throwing another ball before he can register, landing another and grinning. “Hah! That’s three.”

“Lucky shots for an amateur,” a girl comes up to Satoru, whispering in his ear, making your heart sink.

Why?

He doesn’t even acknowledge her really, bright blue eyes glinting, throwing the ball and landing it, making you have to drink again. “What is it, sweets? Kinda busy beating the new girl.”

“Well, I just thought…” She trails her fingertips across Satoru’s abs over that thin white material, he grabs her wrist and stops her, shaking his head. “Oh, maybe another time?”

Not if he gets a taste of you, no – you’ll fucking ruin him – he can already feel it, but he smiles, she has hooked up with him before and is a sweet girl. He doesn’t know what happened but since the moment he locked eyes with you at the football practice he’s been far too obsessed with you.

Constantly thinking of how and when he’d see you again, obsessive insane thoughts running through his head, how you’d look bent over, those tattoos right on the backs of those thighs begging for his hands. Leave prints all over your bratty ass, littering you with marks – bites, lip prints, suck the skin on your neck until you’re bruised with him.

“I’m busy for the rest of the evening,” he says, shrugging at her, seeing the way you look at him from his peripherals. “But thanks.”

She frowns and walks away, you smirk like you’re fucking thrilled he sent her off. Satoru tosses the ball and it bounces, you smack it away easily. “Aw, ya jealous?”

“No!? Why would I be?” You lie to yourself as much as you lie to him, and he knows it, tossing another ball and landing it in your cup with a little splash.

“Drink,” he orders, you roll your eyes and pick up that red solo cup, putting your lips to it. “That’s one.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“I know,” Satoru blows you a kiss, and you flip him off, earning the whispers and laughter around you both, mingling with the loud thrum of the bass, the music playing. “You’re losing, aww look how many cups you have!”

“Shut it,” You toss the ball again, and it lands right in his cup, making him glare. “Okay, it’s on.”

“Distracted me, just a lucky one.”

Do you think she can beat Satoru?

No way, he’s always the winner.

Satoru wins at everything!

Do you think they want each other or… hate each other?

Hmm, both.

Both of you are drinking again as each ball lands, and Satoru notices those hips of yours swaying a bit to the music, the slutty pleated skirt riding up just a little when you lean forward. He’s grabbing a ball that’s fallen on the floor, far too close to those thighs, imagining ripping those fishnets before he buries his face.

He looks up at you while he’s down there, almost under your skirt, you gasp and shove him. “You perv!”

“Can’t get a glimpse before I lose?”

“So you admit you are gonna lose,” you’re snickering, and he can’t help but wonder – are you wearing a thong or boyshorts? He saw a hint of black lace. “Get back over there, stop staring.”

He presses a sneaky kiss on your thigh, grinning all boyish and cute, making your heart hammer, thighs pressing together at his proximity. It’s hard to remember all the differences between you both – the pretty boy, popular jock and you – the social outcast. Once, you both weren’t so different, and in that moment he looks like a nerdy little teenager.

Is he still in there, the boy your little pre teen heart fell for?

Satoru’s back on his side, throwing a ball and missing on purpose – for once he was okay losing if it meant drinking your pussy. He can’t help but imagine pressing his tongue against your wetness through the fabric, eating you over those panties until they’re a mess. He’s sure it’s soaked, he just wants to fucking get drunk on you, if he loses or not he’s planning on licking all that angst right out of you.

He tosses the next ball, making another horrible shot, he’s too distracted thinking of your pretty pussy. You laugh and toss yours and he catches it.

“Shit!”

“Drink up,” he grins, tossing another and landing it. “Two, sweetheart.”

“Ugh m’not your sweetheart,” you drink quickly, tossing it down your throat, feeling dizzy. You’re fine either way getting Gojo’s fingers, but the way he’s licking his lips makes you crave winning even more. You toss the ball and land it in his cup, making him just grin. “That’s three.”

“I’m still winning,” he says cockily, leaning forward again. “You’re not gonna win, baby.”

“You don’t know that, and I’m not your baby either,” you toss the ball, missing and cursing, he lands another one. “No fair, you were yapping too much!”

“Such a sore loser, drink.” Satoru leans on the table now all casual, just smirking at you all victorious. “That’s three, you’re about to lose.”

“No the fuck I’m not,” you toss the ball, missing again, he laughs. “Damn it!”

You change tactics then.

Leaning forward, breasts almost spilling out of your little cami top, fluttering your lashes with a pretty pout and looking right at him. “Satoru…”

Fuck, when you call him that? His heart hammers, already so warm from the drinks, he can’t stand what your eyes are doing, your lips still somehow swathed with that dark lipstick he wants to kiss off you, wants it dragged across your cheeks and smeared as you drool on him. He…

“You little…” He realizes you distracted him on purpose with your mean little smile, sinking another, now two up. “Your slutty tactics won’t work on me again, trust.”

Shit, she’s winning?

Putting twenty on her.

I’ll put twenty on Satoru!

It is best two out of three, and each of you has won a competition, making it go down to the last couple throws, the beer pong is so fucking serious it’s like it is some damn sports match. People have money exchanged placing bets, you’re surprised when people start chanting his name – not yours though, they just go –

New girl!

“Distraction won’t work this time, sweetheart,” Satoru puts more emphasis on that word just to fuck with you. You sigh, rolling your eyes, throwing your shot in, sinking it then.

Oh shit.

You sink another, the alcohol making it even easier, laughing maniacally like an evil succubus, which he’s convinced that you are. You’re throwing those balls over and over, and he’s missing all his damn shots, as the entire frat and most of the sorority – along with many other students and all their friends, watch Satoru Gojo lose to a damn art student goth.

The Satoru Gojo!

Before you cognitively realize what’s happening, he’s got you up the flight of stairs in his room at the frat, and he’s kissing you so differently from back then, when he was clumsy and your noses hit, when his braces brushed against your lips. No, he’s messy and filthy with just that kiss, possessing your mouth, tongue fighting yours for dominance.

You both stumble in there, hungry and needy, you almost trip on your heels as you cling to him tighter than you should, cunt already dripping when his thigh presses between your. His hands are slipping down your body, plush lips drinking up moans you wish weren’t that loud, little desperate breaths as his lips trail down your throat.

“Fuck this is crazy…”

“Is it?” He asks, pulling back from sucking on your pulse point that’s fluttering frantically underneath your skin. “Do you want it?”

You swallow then, biting down on your lip, lashes lowering.

Fuck, that look almost does him in.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” your eyes lock up then, seeing the same boy for the briefest moment, even hidden behind the height, the broad shoulders underneath your fingers, the cocky attitude. “Bet or not.”

He was still Satoru somewhere.

Your answer is not in sweet little words, it’s taking those fingers and trailing them down your body, slowly letting his fingertips brush over your outfit, until they touch you underneath your skirt. He moans softly, feeling the soaking mess you’ve made them into, sticky as his fingers swirl around it.

“Your answer,” you manage to say, biting down so hard your lip almost bleeds when his fingers press up between your slit. “Mnh!”

“You’re not too drunk?” He asks quietly, you see it again, the care in his bright blue eyes, even when he clearly wants you.

“I’m not,” you answer softly. “A little buzzed, but in my right mind.”

“Don’t you hate me though?” He’s taunting you even as he’s sinking to his knees, huge hands pressing your skirt up, looking at you in a way that ruins you.

You did say it the last time you saw him.

‘I hate you for… breaking my heart!’ you’d run off in tears, not realizing the reason Satoru couldn’t be with you.

It was because he was scared of you being affected by the fact that none of his life – including love – would ever be his choice. Yet he stood there holding it all back, unable to say his true feelings, fucking tongue tied.

And the day you ran away he swore one day he’d make it right.

If making it right was done by him sinking to his knees in front of you, Satoru Gojo was ready for it – looking at the slick glimmering in your inner thigh, toying with the nylon of your stockings and grinning deviously then.

“Hmm, how much were these?”

You blink a bit, trying to act like you’re not trembling from his breath against your skin. “Like five bucks, why? Ah!”

Rip.

Satoru moans as he slowly rips himself a trail, exposing your overheated cunt underneath those panties, the dark spot there drooling. You’re shaking with need, head falling back against that door, pretending like you’re anything other than soaking wet and needy for him.

“Really? You could have just asked me to take them off!?”

“Not as hot that way,” he murmurs, lapping the slick off your thigh first like he’s thirsty, cursing softly then as your flavor hits. “Fuck…”

“Mnh!” That’s the only sound you’re able to make, nails pressing into his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as his nose nudges you, as if he’s inhaling your essence, and then he opens his lips.

The first flick of Satoru Gojo’s tongue along your panties was torture, the way his pretty blue eyes looked up under those lashes was too much, him on his knees with his hands pressing into the meat of your hips. You gasp out, head falling back, your lashes fluttering shut, desperate little pathetic moan that doesn’t even make sense escaping your throat.

“Hah - cute little pussy,” he cooes those words, just endlessly annoying you even as he’s lapping at the cotton with his tongue, making it soaked. “Need something?”

“Y-you lost that bet,” you manage to whisper out. “So get to work.”

God, Satoru thinks he’s in love.

He tugs those panties to the side, looking at your perfect cunt, one he dreamed of jerking off so many times over the years it was just embarrassing, but nothing really prepares him for it. Glistening, puffy folds that are drooling for him, glossy and slick, your clit twitching when he lifts that hood and breathes on it ever so teasingly, making your nails press into his shoulders so hard they dig in and leave marks.

“Hah, you’re that soaked? I haven’t even started to touch you yet,” he taunts, swiping just his fingertip through the mess you’ve made, exhaling again and making your hips jerk. “Beer pong gets you wet?”

“Beating you at something did,” you whisper with a little satisfied smile, earning his glare, snowy lashes lowering. Then Satoru smacks your cunt, a sharp thwap echoing in his room, mingling with your panting breaths. “Ah!”

“You’re just so messy,” he’s grinning as you scowl down at him, hooking your thigh high now over a broad shoulder, so his tongue can tease your leaky hole for just a moment, groaning when your flavor soaks into his tastebuds. “You’re that easy for me, hmm?”

“F-fuck no m’not,” you’re trembling from a few flicks of his long pink tongue, hands enwrapping in those snowy locks. You don’t want to admit how good it feels – how good Satoru Gojo looks on his knees. “Will you just…”

“Just what? Ask me nice and I-”

You shove his face right against your cunt before finishing your sentence, and you feel that damn smile against your bare skin before he obliges eagerly, tongue slipping up your messy slit, gathering all that arousal that’s pooling. He drinks you up, his huge hands pressing on either side of the meat of your hips, picturing how good it’ll look when he hits it from the back.

Your eyes roll back in your skull – Satoru’s mouth had no right to be that talented, that hot and wet, he had no right to look so fucking good down there kneeling before you, his eyes locking so intense you can’t look away. Locked in the intimacy and rolling your hips as he moans from just your taste, your arousal pooling from your hole, already messy.

You struggle to cling to any sort of calm, you don’t want to act like you’re so affected, that long tongue slipping between your lips, flicking your little clit sharply. Fingers press into your flesh, parting your folds to open your hole for his tongue to fuck into, sticking the entirety of that pink muscle, letting those walls just flutter around it.

“Oh f-fuck…” Your back vibrates from the base of the music outside the little room the two of you are alone in, your lips still swollen from his kisses, mouth dropped open. “There, there!”

You’re not shy when you drag him where you need, Satoru moans, shifting on his knees and curling his tongue deep, spongy spot pressing and making you gush, so wet he’s missing rivulets, slipping down his pink lips, his chin. You’re rolling those hips like you’re riding his face, head slamming back hard with a thud, ragged gasps just urging him on more.

You’ve got him covered in your slick, his tongue lapping a filthy stripe with the flat of it, hands digging in and lifting your thigh higher and slipping a finger inside. “Oh my g-god…”

“You’re so tight, fuck…” He moans when he feels your cunt contracting on his fingers, spasming and drooling when he buries it to the knuckle, teeth nipping your clit with a sharp motion, you shove at him, screaming out now.

“D-don’t bite - oh m-my… gonna cum, gonna… stay…” You’re done trying to make sense of anything, you can’t remember why you were so hurt by him for so long.

You’ll think of that tomorrow.

Tonight?

You let Satoru swallow you, drink you up, hearing the slurp and the wet, messy noises echoing in your ears, fingers finding purchase in silky white locks and pulling at the roots.

“Oh yes,” he whispers, looking at you with blown out pupils. “Fuck my face, sweetheart.”

You’re doing just that, gliding your pretty cunt all over Satoru Gojo’s face – he slips two impossibly thick fingers inside you, buried to the hilt. You’re lost in it, cunt squelching and mixing with his own moans, his swallowing and gulping, you’re making noises you’ve never thought you could, screaming out and trembling as he pushes you over the edge.

“Cum for me,” he whispers, a little smirk on a face that’s embarrassingly soaked with your cunt, grippin’ his fingers so tight she’s sucking him in. “That’s it, lemme fuckin’ feel it, lemme see it sweetheart.”

You can’t remember exactly why you ever thought you ‘hated’ Gojo.

Deep down you know you’ll always love him, that he was it for you – terrified that this is just fun for him, and you’ll still go along with it. The way he makes you feel so fucking filthy yet precious, worshipped yet devoured, you lose all your senses but just how fucking good it feels.

Your thighs are shaky, he’s damn near holding you up while wetness drips down them, cumming so hard you can’t think, can’t see anything but white stars that blind you behind your closed eyes. “S-Satoru!”

Fuck, when you say his name?

Satoru palms his cock, throbbing and insistent, moaning at how fucking good your juices feel in his mouth, gulping them down – adam’s apple bobbing with every greedy swallow as he watches you come undone. He eases his thrusts of those long fingers, teasing flicks prolonging that orgasm until you lightly just squirt in little spurts down him.

“Look at you all fucked out,” you barely manage to open your eyes – Gojo looks positively ruined from drinking you, as fucked out as you are, his white hair sticking to his forehead just a bit, cheeks flushed pink.

How can he look that good?

He chuckles a bit – that cocky boy is still there – licking his lips as he pulls back slightly, fingers still buried deep inside you, curling just right, grinning as you jerk your hips.

“Too much, mnh!” You’re arching your back, tits bouncing at this angle he can’t help but imagine how you’ll ride his cock, which is leaking so much pre he’s sticking to his boxers.

He’s slipping those fingers out with a suctioned pop, the slick sound. Gojo brings them to his lips and slides the slick on his lips like a gloss, standing slowly, letting your thigh fall gently, you wobble.

“Aww, can’t stand? That fucked up from a little kiss?”

“Kiss!? You’re… so insane…”

Gojo is not just covered in you, he’s sucking them clean with deliberate slowness, his eyes dark aside from a light blue ring, and they’re fucking hungry. "So sweet for such a mean little girl.”

“Little girl,” you scoff, but you’re shaking, your own hands sliding up his chest, head falling back while he drinks you up, moaning. “You can’t call me that, m’not a little girl.”

“Bet you’ll call me daddy,” he taunts, you shake your head at him while he brushes your hair back gently. "Look at you, made such a mess of me."

You whimper – yeah you fucking whimper, damn him – clenching around nothing. "Not calling you that, but…”

He raises a brow, grinning. “But?”

You sigh. “You are… you do…”

“The best oral you’ve had?”

“Fuck you, yes,” he chuckles, for a moment his fingers brush your cheek, and you can’t help but lean close. You want him. “In this, you win. Not beer pong.”

“Tch, let you win,” you giggle – yeah you, you giggle then, the sound reminding him of a time long ago. He sighs now, studying your face carefully. “So, I’ll let you decide. You want more?"

Before you can answer, he leans in, kissing you deeply, you lean into it, arms wrapping his neck, sucking in a breath as you continue to pulse around nothing, nodding just a bit.

“Ah- ah,” he whispers, tilting your chin up, swapping your taste between you both. “You have to tell me.”

“Yes, I want more.” Satoru carries you over to the bed then with ease like it’s just nothing, the strong muscles underneath his skin bunching as he lays you on it, hovering over you and just looking then. “Satoru…”

“Want my cock to ruin your pretty cunt?” You didn’t expect that – the once nerdy, shy Gojo to say that, even now you’re at a loss for words, lips parting. “I have to warn you, no one will be able to hit it like me after.”

“You’re so conceited,” you mumble, but when he slips up your top and your tits bounce out for his view, you’re soaked all over again, still sticky from his spit coating your puffy folds.

That’s when Satoru is quiet.

Fuck your tits are so perfect, he can’t help but pause and grip them, feeling their weight in his palm, thumbs brushing them and watching the areolas tighten. “Oh just, look at how pretty they are.”

He’s not cocky then, no he’s enamored, lashes casting shadows as his mouth descends, sucking a nipple into it hungrily, flicking his tongue on that little piercing. You gasp out at it, his other hand gripping your left tit as he sucks your right, making you so sensitive. He moans, vibrating against your skin, your tummy clenched with hot need all over again.

“S’perfect,” his mumbled words mean way more than they should, your heart hammering in your chest like you are some little virgin again, all shy almost when he pulls back, kissing the soft mounds and pressing them together.

“Just fuck me, okay? Stop all… that.”

He chuckles a bit, sucking your other nipple with a messy pop, his fingers slipping over your trembling tummy to toy with your twitchy clit he’d just suck on, fingering the mess. “Stop what, the foreplay? Haven’t had much, huh?”

“Shut up - mnh!” He sinks a finger back inside, lips just an inch from yours, you taste the sweetness of him mixed with the alcohol from tonight, see his cheeks flushed with pink. “No, not really okay?”

“I’ll make up for it,” how could anyone get to touch your body, it makes him so angry, so possessive then that it’s nonsense. His hands glide over your curves before he flips you on your stomach, you gasp out. “Arch f’me.”

You do just that without thinking of a bratty retort, you’re not a submissive girl by any means and you still have so much hurt from Gojo, but you’re eagerly arching your ass, waiting for his cock. He unzips his pants eagerly, breath catching at the sight of your hole clenching around nothin’ in little spasms.

“She’s so needy,” his words mix with a trail of spit, spreading your cheeks wide, it slips from your puckered ass hole to your milky cunt in a bubbly trail. “Tell me what you want, use those words.”

“I told you, mnh! W-want you in me…”

“No,” he teases his fat cockhead through your glistening folds, huge hands gripping each ass cheek and watching them jiggle, mesmerized.

“What do you mean, no? Want your dick, okay?” Your words are slurred, about to cum when he slips his cock teasingly between your swollen folds, gliding with the mix of your slick and his spit.

The sounds are filthy as he fucks your thighs and nudges your cunt, not going in to torture you. “There, you have my dick.”

“I swear to – Gojo! Put it in,” you’re arching for more but he’s just pressing the fat of your cunt down so he can fuck your slit over and over, tip nudging your clit and making you gasp out. “Mmph!”

“What, did you want it inside you?”

“That’s what I s-said,” you’re close to cumming again from just his damn teasing, gripping those sheets underneath you. Your head falls back, Satoru leans on his knees and pulls it, making your spine curve.

“Want me to fuck your cunt raw, then? Cum inside her?” Satoru’s lost and pussy drunk, he’s never even fucked without a condom but he can’t imagine the barrier when he wants to feel those gummy walls on his cock.

“Y-yes,” you can’t believe you’re saying that shit then, but you’re too far gone, cunt still spasming, your nipples sensitive as they brush the soft fabric. “Just fuck me, god…”

“Impatient little thing,” his words are loving, his hands devotedly brushing up and down your waist, your hips. “I’ll give it to you.”

You look back at him, hair all falling over your face, Satoru pulls it into a pony tail, seeing the lightness of your irises swallowed by black, your lipstick all smeared off, revealing traces of the pink of your lips. You bite the lower one then, taking a shaky little breath.

“It’s just… mnh, sex?” You manage to ask, Satoru pauses then.

Of course it’s always just sex with him with any girl, he doesn’t get too attached, he doesn’t reveal all of himself.

Yet, for you? The girl who knew him way before, when he was just nerdy little Gojo playing DnD and a mathlete? You, whose eyes look drunk as you look back at him, your perfect ass arched in the air, fishnets ripped completely at the seams, the leftover material slightly pressing into your thighs.

You’re different, and he knows that, and it’s fucking terrifying, Satoru takes a breath then, gauging the situation, leaning over you to smack your ass, watching it bounce. He moans, smacking the other cheek, your cunt slips more and more sticky clear arousal out of it. He pulls at your hair, you eagerly arch.

You want him to dominate you – you, a dominant brat.

“Ya want me to make that perfect pussy cum? Over and over?” He asks softly, you swallow, nodding, hair tugging at the roots. “You want me to take you over, fuckin’ ruin you hmm?”

“Ruin me,” you gasp out, far past your usual act of hating Satoru. Maybe you do hate what he does to you, making a strong, dominant woman submit, beg, eagerly obey to his every command. But in that moment, you’d do anything to have that cock that he’s teasing deep inside. “Do it, fuck…”

“Say please,” you scoff, shaking your head.

“You say please,” you pull off and he drags you back, laughing softly, his teeth nipping your shoulder as his cock presses against your entrance. “Say it, – ‘please let me fuck your pussy’.”

“Hah, no,” when you clamp down on his tip that’s just barely popped into your hole, however? “Oh my f-fine, please, lemme fuck this pussy.”

You smile against the pillow he presses your head down on, arching impossible more than. “Then do it, Satoru.”

Satoru eases in at first, but then he fills you in three strokes, messy, filthy ones until your greedy cunt just sucks him up. “Oh my… g-god, s’tight baby fuck…”

“You’re s-so big I… mnh!” You want to be bitchy, you want to clap back, but all you can think of is just how full Satoru Gojo has stuffed you, how each drag of his cock is destroying your pussy, your mind, forgetting anything and everything but how good he feels throbbing inside of you.

“Perfect little cunt,” he mumbles, done for as he presses you down between your shoulder blades, easing back to watch your ass jiggle with every thrust, to see your greedy cunt suckin’ him up. “Look at you, takin’ me like this? Good girl.”

You want to laugh but…

You’re wetter.

Impossibly wet, every glide easier while Satoru Gojo buries his cock inside you to the hilt, hitting your cervix with every mean slap, his heavy balls hitting your clit as his fingers spread your ass cheeks, groaning at the sight. Your slick has coated all of his veiny length, every – fwap fwap fwap – sound echoing and mixing with the hum of the music lingering from outside the door.

Fuck any party, it’s just you, all you, surrounding and gripping his cock so good he can’t fucking stand it. He moans your name and it comes out like a whimper, but there’s no stopping anything from spilling from his lips, not when you’re taking him like that, not when he’s fucking your cunt so good all he can think of is making you his – all his.

Is it just sex? What a question, as if Satoru Gojo hasn’t been in love with you since he laid eyes on you, as if he didn’t jerk it to you the moment he saw you at that football practice with your slutty clothes, with those fishnets that still rest on your body, pressing into the flesh of your ass at the sides.

Ripped wide open he uses them as leverage, hearing your desperate shaky gasps around him, fucking into you so hard you scream out, head falling back. He moans and tugs at the black nylon, letting it press into your skin in little diamond patterns, cock twitching inside your slick heat.

That cock is so deep you feel him fucking everywhere, especially at this angle – bottoming out in your cunt finally and groaning in your ear, just the sounds of him alone are enough you’d record it and touch yourself to it. You don’t want to be so desperate, so needy, but you can’t stop it, not when he’s ruining you, not when his tip is pummeling your cervix.

The sounds echoing in the room are lewd, squishing, slapping, squelching, both of your whines high pitched and needy. Satoru’s grabbing your hips on either side now, drunker off you than off anything. He bites back nonsense like ‘i love you’ because he knows you still hate him, and he doesn’t want to scare you off.

Eventually, you’ll be all his.

For now – he fucks you brutally, but you want it, need it, crave it. Walls clamping down around his thickness like a vise, Satoru groans as you do, rocking his hips and feeling you start to spasm.

“Gonna cum again? So easy,” he whispers, as if he’s not two seconds from busting in your perfect cunt.

“Fuck off,” you respond back hoarsely, as if he’s not right, cocky ass hole that he is with his huge cock curving up deep in your snug channel. “Make me cum.”

He almost says ‘yes mommy’ but bites it back.

“Make you cum,” he grins and lays on top of you prone, his knee on one side of you, resting on an elbow and dragging you down his cock in a mean angle. “Then go ahead, let your slutty little hole squirt on me.”

“Ngh!” You’re shattering for him when he fucks you laying on top, cock moving your stomach with every filthy motion. You feel Satoru’s cock twitch inside you as your cunt spasms around him, clenching down so hard he groans – pressing his forehead to your shoulder, damp with perspiration, groaning softly.

His hand wraps your throat, taking you over completely, your eyes rolling back in your skull just blinded by pleasure, head falling back against his chest. His cock is stretching you beyond your means, but you’re so wet he’s slipping in even easier, squelching wetness dripping down between your thighs and his cock, slipping onto the blanket as he bruises that cervix.

“Takin’ it like you’re made for it,” he murmurs in your ear, lips brushing that delicate earlobe, you grip that wrist of the hand wrapping your throat, pressing. “Ah, want me to choke you? You’re a slutty, needy girl, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you just press and nod, giving Satoru permission, giving him so much trust with his long fingers that now encircle your neck. “D-do it.”

Long fingers tighten on either side of your windpipe, his length moving in and out of that messy hole, pounding harder, seeing what you can take as he squeezes just a little more. The pleasure is too much, taking over your entire body – that heady, fuzzy feeling addictive, making you chase that feeling, that release.

When he kisses you?

That’s when you lose any control or act you had left – pretending like this will just be once, like you’re not still hopeless for him, like you’re not about to spill your feelings if he doesn’t choke you more.

“Harder,” is your weak little command, mascara streaking down your cheeks as he slams his cock bruisingly inside your pretty cunt. “Please.”

“Sayin’ please, hah – you’re such a good girl,” he knows it fucks you up, damn him, you can just tell his conceited self loves making you like this. You’ll let him have an ear full later.

For now you just let his cock reshape your entire cunt to mold to his shape, just like he said, overwhelmed by every sensation that washes through you. You cum so hard again you choke – his hands gripping so tightly they’ll leave little bruises on your skin, a messy drool line spilling from the corner of your mouth.

“That’s it, so pretty, just a mess,” he whispers in your ear, letting go of your throat so you can gasp in greedy gulps, his thumb swipes off that mess and his lips press on yours, drinking your cries.

Those narrow hips of his that were in a perfect rhythm stutter at that kiss, thrusts becoming just a little messy and erratic, your walls quivering and pushing him over the edge. “Mnh, fuck…”

“Feel too good,” he’s so drunk off your messy hole, so fucking close to pumping everything inside of you, lashes fluttering shut when he whimpers.

Fuck, did you make him whimper?

You are too fucked out to notice, the smacking sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass cheeks echo louder now, those big hands sliding down to grip your hips, fingers digging in possessively. He murmurs your name like a devotion, his breath ghosting across a shoulder blade, teeth nipping the sensitive curve of it.

"Feel her," he rasps, voice thick with lust. "Take me s’good... aw, sweetheart you’re wrecked."

You whimper as he pulls out almost entirely, leaving just the tip inside, teasing your entrance and then pressing back in. "Please," you choke out, arching. "Back in me."

He’s so close, taking a breath and pausing, turning your face to him. “You want all this inside you, or painted on that perfect ass?”

There’s no hesitation, your eyes looking back at his, lidded and dazed, sweat slicked skin brushing against each other. “In me.”

Satoru’s done for at your hasty little reply – slamming back inside so deep it hurts, busting his load so deep against your cervix, balls contracting as they fill you to the brim, leaking down him with how your muscles contract. “Oh f-fuck…”

He has no words for how perfect it feels cumming inside your messy little hole, flooding those walls and coating them in white, slowing his strokes and making you feel every inch as it drags on the spots in those spongy walls. He’s crying out softly, fingers dipping into the crook of your waist, pumping impossibly more inside, until you’re both so sensitive you’re just messes.

“Took me like that?” He whispers, easing out of you and looking at the mess you’ve both made, his chest heaving up and down with his breaths, fingers skimming your pretty ass and brushing over marks blooming. “Did such a good job.”

You take a moment, just trembling – Satoru watches his milky seed pool and bubble out of your hole, fingering the sticky mess and slipping it in his lips, moaning out. “Did you… taste us?”

“Mmm, of course I am. You should too,” he flips you on your back, leaning over you, your hands slip up his shoulders when the intimacy catches you, when he pours his own cum right back in your mouth. “Swallow.”

You obediently listen, before kissing him again, his still semi hard cock heavy against your inner thigh, even more spurts of white pumping hot and sticky. You’re shaking, breaths coming quicker and quicker, strings of saliva and white dripping between your lips. You taste his cum off him, the action so filthy, his fingers nudging the mess to shove it right back in your hole.

“Ah! Too much, j-jerk,” you huff, he chuckles then, shaking his head and sighing, lifting your thighs to spread them and eye that pretty sight of an utterly destroyed and puffy cunt. “You’re just… looking at it!”

“Yes I am, I beat it up,” he has the audacity to whistle, when there are knocks on the door. He glares back at it as you close your thighs, sucking in a breath at how sore you are. “What?”

“Gojo, they’re all saying you’re a little bitch for losing to a girl,” you snicker and Satoru scowls deeper. “Sukuna is saying he’ll stomp your ass at the keg stand record too.”

“Tch, he fucking wishes,” he sighs, not about to leave you, but you’re already standing, shaky legs having you almost wobbling. “Give me a bit.”

“You’re good, promise,” you murmur, grabbing your top and slipping it over you, he aches when he watches those tits gently bounce. “I should get going, I have a big ass test in the morning.”

“Leaving already?” He frowns, standing with his cock just hanging, your tummy clenches at the sight of it, with white and clear strands all around the thick length.

“I should,” you murmur, stepping back a bit when he comes close, leaning down over you. Your back against the wall, his palm on one side of your head. “You’re still naked, Satoru.”

“Sure am,” he nudges his cock again, slipping between your pressed thighs, earning a desperate little whine. “You don’t have to go.”

He hates how vulnerable he sounds, him so desperate, but he’s never felt anything like you, like that, the moments you took his breath away not just with sex, but with everything about you. “You don’t wanna win?”

“Of course I do,” you laugh, softly then, knowing if you stay – you’ll fall all over again, for this different Gojo who still has your heart. “Doesn’t mean you can’t stay the night.”

“I don’t wanna make it weird,” he opens his lips and you lean up, a hand entangled in his hair. “I… Is this just once?”

Satoru swallows nervously, looking at you carefully. “I don’t know, is it?”

You both just stand there, you don’t know how to answer his question – with so much left unsaid, but you press a quick kiss on his lips before you talk yourself out of it, and then just run out of the room.

He leans his head on that door, fists clenching, trying to think of anything he could say. He could say – no, it’s not just sex, not with you, how could it be?

But he froze.

You’re leaning against that door – heart hammering in your chest, a palm on it to feel it racing, head resting for just a moment until people start running around, too close to you. You try to gather your bearings, try to remember that it was likely a hook up for him, and you couldn’t do it again.

No way, when he almost casually fucked an I love you from his lips.

That night you dream of him, waking up in a cold sweat, staring at the mirror and seeing how fucked up you were off him.

Surely, he went back to playing games.

That night Satoru lays there, sighing and swiping a hand down his face, turning in bed that night, touching the rumpled sheets, inhaling your scent off that pillow.

This can’t be the only fucking time.

There’s never really been anyone but you, but especially now he realizes, he’s ruined from you.

*****

“Need a ride?” The voice echoes outside, and you know exactly who it is.

It’s piss pouring rain a week later, you’d avoided Satoru like the plague since then, you didn’t even have a number if you wanted to reach out.

What would you even say – oh hey, childhood crush of mine, I apparently got fucked so dumb I’m prety sure I’m still in love?

No way.

Yet there’s his voice, there’s his presence right next to you now, too close – when you stand under the awning in front of one of the college buildings, the sound of it pounding on the metal makes you almost tired, looking up to see Satoru with an umbrella in his hand.

“I’ll wait it out,” you mumble, the last thing you need is to jump him the way you keep thinking of, to say dumb shit that’ll make him run away again.

That’s your biggest fear, really, that he’ll just run off like he did that year after your kiss, that he’ll move on and this was just fun, a challenge, a fling. A guy like Satoru could just have whoever he wanted, he’s so unserious, you’re sure you’re the one who is concocting it all inside your mind.

“It’ll be raining all afternoon,” he says then, thumb slipping up the screen on his phone, raising a brow at you. “And all night.”

“Shit… I mean I don’t have too far to go, maybe you can… be generous and just lend me your umbrella?”

“Or maybe,” he leans close now, silky white locks falling over his brow, cupping your face. “You can stop being so stubborn and take a fucking ride.”

Your heart is racing, you’re ovulating and you shouldn’t be near Mr. Broke your heart, Mr. Three hundred dollar a spray cologne, especially with the rain enshrouding you both, with his heat too close. You clear your throat and press your hand on a chest that’s too hard, too muscular, too warm.

“I’m good.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow at you, a vein pressed up underneath his skin. “Just take a ride, I won’t… try shit if that’s your concern. You pretty much made it clear you only wanted it once, I get it okay?”

You blink then, stepping back. “You think… I don’t ever think you’d try something, okay? That’s not it.”

“It’s not?” His brows draw together. “You don’t regret it?”

“No,” you shake your head, sighing then. “I didn’t know you were thinking that way about it.”

“How am I supposed to think?” There’s a harshness to his words then, your hands still resting as he steps even closer. “You haven’t said shit since you darted out of my room, drippin’ my cum.”

You almost whine out then and there, shaking your head again. You can’t say the truth – that it scared you, the intensity, the feelings.

“I had fun that night,” that’s an understatement. “A lot of fun, yeah? You felt… good in me.”

He almost moans out loud, looking at your pretty lashes lowering, this long pointed line of eyeliner just a little smudged off each eye. He runs a hand down the small of your back as people rush off to their cars, hidden under umbrellas or jackets over their heads.

“Yeah?” He asks softly, you roll those pretty eyes at him.

“You already know I liked it, it’s just… do we do it more or… do we just forget it?”

“Forget it?” His brows lower then, the thunder clapping from the distance. “You think I’d forget?”

“It’s probably not shit to you,” he glares, his jaw setting now. “You should go before the storm gets bad.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

“You can't just tell me what to do –” Satoru is already grabbing your hand, pulling you toward the parking lot. His umbrella pops open, a big clear one that you instantly recognize.

It's the same he had the day you met all those years ago.

Affection tears at your chest though you feign the irritation when he's tugging you under it, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close. The proximity makes you too warm, tugged against his lithe frame while the rain pours, wind picking up.

You weren't dressed for soaking rain clearly, shivering when your boots rushed across forming puddles on the road, cold droplets hitting your bare legs. You're still firmly pressed against his side, feeling the heat of him through his letterman's jacket, smelling that familiar expensive ass cologne mixed with rain. Thunder cracks overhead, making you jump just a bit, and his grip tightens.

“Almost there,” He's calming when he speaks, almost soothing actually, you swallow nervously, heart hammering as you remember the last time you saw him.

Underneath him.

His fingers pressing into your throat, cock wrecking you. Fuck you hadn't been able to even walk the next day, you'd taken a day from classes to just soak in the bath. He had every right to be cocky when it came not just to his size but how he worked it.

It makes you blush thinking how he'd been inside you, you hardly can focus on anything but the burning memories in your brain as you get to his pretty silver sports car.

"Shit it's gonna get bad, let’s go," he mutters, fumbling with his keys when you reach the Mercedes, rain pelting the sleek black exterior. His hands are shaking – from cold or something else, you can't tell. The locks finally beep and he's yanking the passenger door open, you rush inside before you watch him jogging around to the driver's side.

His door slams shut behind him, pushing to start the car and letting the heat start up, shaking off the umbrella into the back seat as the storm worsens around you both. Suddenly it's quiet, just the muffled drumming of rain on the windshield, soft music turns on when he presses the button.

You're both just a little out of breath, a couple little drops of water dripping from your hair down your neck, the heat warming you as you shiver. The windows are already starting to fog just a bit from the condensations and your breaths.

“You good?” He asks then, you nod quickly, holding your books close to your lap for a moment. “Any new cool drawings of me?”

“You wish,” he chuckles just a bit, looking back and putting an arm over the back of your seat, looking impossibly attractive as he backs up, the line of his jaw illuminated with a little flash of lightning.

You could draw him right now, too damn attractive to even exist, his blue eyes flickering across your face for a brief moment. “You’re quiet.”

“Well, I’m quiet in general,” he scoffs, turning to start down the quick little road towards your dorm. “What? I am.”

“You weren’t quiet underneath me,” you roll your eyes and glare all cute, his jaw sets a bit, tongue against his cheek. “Did you not wanna do it again?”

“I just figured it was… the bet, the drinks, the…”

“Yeah, you think all that?” You don’t know what to fucking think.

“Doesn’t that happen a lot at your parties?”

“Ya callin’ me a slut?”

“Very much so, I’ve heard of many escapades.” Satoru snorts and shakes his head, hand turning the wheel with ease. There’s something so comfy and homey about being around him again, even with the awkward tension lingering.

You remember so much.

“It’s raining bad, here,” Satoru held an umbrella up for you, smiling all nervous, his cute little bowtie just askew, glasses fogged up from the rain pouring.

“Oh, thanks…” You’re not a talker, you’re a little shy, and now a boy is talking to you. He brushes the damp strands of your hair back, and you look up at the clear umbrella, watching the rain pummel it, bouncing off in a little halo around you both in the darkness.

“You should carry one, y’know.”

“Yeah, I always forget,” you mumble, you’re so close to him. “You’re Satoru Gojo, right?”

“You know me?” He blushes and you do just the same, he turns a bit. “Yeah, that’s me. Are you waiting on your parents?”

You almost laugh.

It’s not like your parents would ever pick you up, half the time they forget to get anything for you to pack for lunch. “No.”

“My driver will be here soon,” you blink in confusion, he uses his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, my parents don’t pick me up either.”

“So they suck too.”

He laughs, a little nervous one, before sobering up. “Do yours suck?”

“Bad,” you mumble. “I’ll be okay if I get a little closer to-”

“Let me have them drive you, they make plenty of money, not like they’ll mind.”

“I couldn’t!”

“Sure you can,” he takes your hand then. “Come on.”

“You’re very quiet now,” his voice breaks your day dream, you realize you’re already in front of your dorm, having been lost in the memory. “Where’s that pretty head at?”

Pretty.

Satoru called you pretty.

A lot of people do, it’s not like men don’t shoot their shot at you, it’s more… you’re uninterested in them all. The men you’ve been with have just been out of boredom or craving experience. Yet when he says it, there are two different feelings.

One, he means it. Two, he just says that.

You see the girls around him constantly, you’d even snuck into his game to watch him the other day – not that you’d ever admit it. He was truly amazing, not just ‘some jock’ no – he excelled at it. Everyone cheered his name, girls all around him, men even cheering for him, everyone around the school as you hid behind the standing crowd, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Satoru probably wouldn’t even consider you now, if he didn’t then.

“Just thinking I guess, of that time we met,” shit, you hadn’t meant to let it slip like that, but it’s there, lingering in the warmth of his car. “You had a whole driver.”

“Yeah, I guess I still could, but now I am on my own,” you blink a bit at that, seeing his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. “They wanted to mold me into their perfect CEO and I really make ‘em mad, not mad enough to fuck my trust fund though.”

“Hence this,” you brush a finger on his gear shift, he grins. “I kind of told my parents to fuck off too. Art school is not it.”

“Especially after they were mad you wanted to do astronomy,” your lips part. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And now you’re doing it.”

“Astrophysics, yes,” he sighs, relaxing just a bit. “I kind of think I wanna teach it one day. Is it weird to think, a rich heir of the Gojo corp wanting to teach?”

“No, I think that shit’s cool as fuck,” he turns toward you, lips quirking up. Lips that were all over your body, a mouth that was on your pussy. The memories have your heart pounding in your ribcage like it’s just gonna fall out, hands gripping the papers, seeing the storm still raging. “You always were meant to study those stars.”

Satoru can’t take it.

He can’t take knowing he could have had years of this, of a high school sweetheart by his side, but he pushed it off – he thought for your own good, but now he sees the damage. In every apprehensive movement, in every bite of your lips that are just a little chapped from the chill.

“You think that?”

You turn your head, and he’s close – too close, so much so you taste his breath on yours, something sweet and so Gojo. You nod just a bit, leaning into his touch when he runs the backs of his knuckles across your cheek, the one reacting to his touch by getting so warm,

“I do.”

You can’t stop yourself from kissing him then and there – you lean and kiss him this time – his lips pause just a brief moment, parting in shock, before his arm wraps you, dragging you against him, a soft moan drank into your own mouth. The kiss means more than you can even admit, than you can comprehend in that heady moment, warm and cozy as it is sensual.

You’re leaning back in the passenger seat of Satoru’s fancy Mercedes benz, ostentatious and annoying sure, yet – you love it, you love being in there with him. You love the rain bouncing on the windshield and creating a halo around the car, enshrouding the two of you.

You love his lips on yours, love his hand entangling in your hair, his teeth nipping your lower lip hungrily, pushing him to sit as you take over the kiss now. He lets you eagerly, your hand slipping down his flat stomach, feeling each rippling muscle over his soft tee shirt, the windshield wipers flicking rain side to side with quick clicks.

“Fuck,” he murmurs then, looking up at you, pink cheeked and big blue eyes blown out. You see it then.

The boy he was.

Your first kiss, your first love.

Your kisses move down his neck, hearing his hitches of breath, a hand gripping your little black sweater as his head falls to the side for you. At this moment he’s not cocky Satoru Gojo – all star, no he’s soft and sweet, cock tenting his jeans when you rub him over it.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll die, sweetheart,” he mumbles, you can’t help but giggle, the sound making him leak more. “I’m serious.”

“You mean you’ll cum?” You tease now, pulling back and turning so you’re on your knees in the passenger.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, he’s experienced of course but thinking of you sucking him is like some insane dream that he can’t believe exists. He tries to keep it together, brushing your hair back when it falls to the side like a curtain hiding your pretty face, your movements firmer over his thickness.

“Yeah, I’ll cum,” he manages to breathe out.

“Good.” Satoru’s lips part when you undo his belt buckle, his own chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

“Thought you said only once?” He taunts, when you eagerly unzip him, pressing your thighs together with need. You scoff, rolling your eyes and then swallowing nervously when you see his cock.

“I never said that. You just thought it.”

You had it inside of you, but you didn’t really see it, pink tip leaking so much pre, it’s fat and thick, so big you know it’ll choke you. You spit down on it, earning his surprised gasp, swirling the stream of spit around his cockhead then ever so slowly, feeling his hand entangle in your silky locks.

“Mmm!” His little moan makes you ache.

“Haven’t had a good blow job I bet,” you taunt him like he did. Satoru snorts then, but once your lips wrap his tip, he’s whining out. You giggle as you pull back, and he grips your hair harder, tugging you up. “You just whimpered.”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles, cock already pushing more milky drops out of that little hole. “Thought you hated me?”

You don’t, not really.

“Don’t you hate me?” You ask, he lowers his gaze.

No.

“You’re just a mean ass brat, that’s all,” he says softly, touching your bottom lip and feeling the plush of it. His hands are rough from years of football, slipping across your skin. “The emo girl, so edgy.”

“Edgy?” It’s too intimate, making you swallow nervously. “Do you want me to suck you, Satoru?”

His answer is a little nod, before he says something fucking dumb, and you lavish his tip with your tongue, swirling it around and sucking hard enough to make him cry out before he can control it, arching his hips up for more of your mouth. You push your mouth down deeper, taking as much of his thick cock as you can, gagging yourself a little and making that drool spill.

“Oh f-fuckkk,” he’s moaning now, feeling you sucking him up and down deeper into your throat as the rain pummels the windshield out side. You feel tears pricking your eyes when he hits the back of your throat – he’s thick and long and you can’t fit him all at this angle, but you make sure to fucking try. “Just like that.”

Your spit coats him and makes him glossy as your hand moves in time with every messy stroke, filthy suctioned pops and the gagging in your throat mixing with that thrumming rain in the background and Satoru’s breathy cries. Those fingers tighten in your hair, forcing you down even harder as you work him, hearing every hitched breath escaping his lips.

“That’s it, g-god you’re s’good,” he’s babbling, every time he hits your throat your core clenches, cunt dripping, soaking through your panties. He senses it or something, reaching around to rub his fingers over them, cursing softly. “Ya this wet suckin’ me off, soaked…”

You want to tell him to fuck off – that’s sort of your love language – but you are that needy, that desperate, every glide of his cock in your throat making you choke on him. You breathe through your nose, letting him fuck up into it, stroking your clit with his impossibly long arm reached around your arched ass.

Your throat flutters around his cock, he’s so sensitive then, feeling your little throat stretch, forcing your head down even deeper. Your long nails dig into the denim, pressing against his thighs, ass working up and down, dying for more when he just teases your slit instead.

“Mnh…” You’re moaning, your eyes watering with the stretch, with the need building for the boy you loved.

Love.

You still love him, you know it even as you act so casually, when it’s intimate, all of it – Satoru’s ragged groans, the drumming rain, your slick sounds as you choke on his length. His salty pre pulsing against your tongue as you drag him closer, your own drool slipping down your hand, feeling him thicken in your mouth.

Satoru arches against the leather seat, his trembling fingers of his left hand guide your head, while his right ones continue to toy with the mess your panties have become, snug on your plump pussy.

“Taking all of me?” He huffs out, your answer is a whimper. “Oh sweetheart, y-you…” His voice breaks when you glance up through smudged eyelashes, your dark mascara trailing down your cheeks from where you’ve gagged on him. “You’re so goddamn pretty like this.”

“Mmm…” You pull back a bit, spit collected in strings as you look up at him – his face is flushed, pupils blown dark, lips parted, he’s utterly wrecked. “I want your cum in my mouth.”

You’re a demon, Satoru is sure of it.

You’re sucking that throbbing cock again harder, taking him even deeper than you thought you could, when he yanks you up suddenly by your hair. You gasp – thrown on his lap so quickly you’re dizzy, he drags you down for a kiss, lapping his own cock off your lips. “No, I wanna cum inside that pretty cunt.”

Satoru lifts your hips up so you’re on your knees and grips his sticky cock at the base, his pretty tip already spurting white when it bumps your clit, you’re clinging to him, thighs shaking.

“Satoru, what are you doing…”

That cock gliding against puffy folds sends hot waves of pleasure through your mind, making you whimper against his mouth as rain drums harder on the roof. The windows are completely fogged now, the car humid, leather sticking to your thighs as you sink down on him, that gear shift pressing on your thigh when he sinks inside, stretching you out.

“Too tight,” he murmurs, pulling back and spitting on his tip, smearing it before slipping it back to your hole, pushing in a couple more inches. “Take me, go ahead, lemme see you.”

Your nails press into his shoulders over that jacket as you move just a bit, angling so you’re gliding easier and easier on him, ragged little gasp escaping as he shoves you down even harder, filling you to the fucking brim suddenly, both of you gasping out, your head falling back for his mouth to press kisses up it.

"Fuck – so deep I – ah!" You're so full, stretched around him in the cramped space, your back hitting the steering wheel as he grips your hips and guides you down further. "S'too much, I can't–"

"You can," he breathes out, forehead pressed to yours, blue eyes hazy and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache. "Take all of me, sweetheart. Please..."

That undoes you.

‘Please.’

You're riding him now, gliding up and down on his lengthy cock, steering wheel against your ass, his hands lifting you and slamming you down. They're everywhere he can reach, almost fumbling in his eagerness to claim every part of you. Grippin' him too tight, you're not stretched enough to take him so she's strangling his cock.

His hands slip from your ass up to your tits, one gripping and squishing it while the other moves to your throat – like he can't decide where to touch, like he needs all of you underneath his fingers then and there. Rain streaks down the windows in fat drops, the world outside completely disappearing.

It's just his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars, just his eyes, just his lips, just that tip grinding on your cervix, white soft hair over his cock grinding your neglected clit. You reach down to toy with it when he grips your wrist, leaning back and putting his thumb there instead.

"Need your cute little clit played with?" He huffs those words out, you nod eagerly, no pretense left, whining and grinding. "There you go, look at you riding me."

"Gonna cum," you gasp out, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, little circles working faster. "Satoru, I'm–"

"Look at me," he demands, hand cupping your jaw, forcing your eyes to his. "Wanna see you fall apart on my cock."

You do just as he asks then, like you're obeying his soft, sweet little demand – clenching around him as pleasure crashes through you, and he follows with a broken moan of your name, spilling inside you as he pulls you impossibly closer. His cum spills down him with that gravity, but he keeps lifting you and lowering you gently, his lips never leaving yours.

You fall into the kisses, into the aftermath that’s so heavy, the very atmosphere so thick with tension that both of you can't breathe, the heat still blaring, bringing a slick of sweat to your skin. His palms reach underneath your top, slipping up your spine soothingly, his eyes fucked out and dilated.

What does he say?

What do you say?

You're both breathing hard, bodies still connected so intimately the lightening pattering of rain the only sound now aside from that, you hear your own racing heart just thudding in your ears. The rough pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone, wiping away a little streak of smudged mascara, and there's something in his expression that makes your heart ache.

"That was…" He starts to say something, but it wouldn’t even come close to describing what just happens. He just… trails off slowly, swallowing

‘Just sex’, ‘just fun’, you keep thinking, waiting for him to say it. ‘Such a fun hookup’. Just–

"Y-yeah," you whisper, climbing off him before he can finish, before you hear words that'll shatter you, your guard is already down, you’re already too terrified of what may be the truth.

You thought you could have control, but you pounced him, you sucked him and begged for him to cum inside you again. You’re struggling to control your racing mind then as the leather squeaks underneath your movements. You adjust your clothes with shaking hands, fumbling with your zipper, slipping over to the other side, just lost in your own fucking brain.

Does he feel anything? Or is this just another conquest, another girl in his car. Some fun with a girl of his past?

"Wait–" His hand catches your wrist, but you're already reaching for the door handle, gathering your books in your arms.

"It's fine, Satoru. The rain... it's all lightened up now."

"Just wait a minute, fuck," he exhales, tugging you close against him, you still feel cum dripping from your cunt, so intimate - something about it, about how he just looked at you, even now, cupping your face, drowning in you. "What are you doing tonight, hmm? Drawing me as a cat in some emo ass outfit, staring out your window all sad?"

You can't help but laugh a little, the tension easing just the smallest bit. You’re shaking your head. "No, I’m not drawing you tonight."

"Ah," he adjusts himself, sighing, looking as the rain eases, a light drizzle now. "I have a party tonight, maybe we can redo that beer pong match?"

"You want your ass beat again?" He smirks, it's easy again, so much fucking left unsaid between you both however, tension filling his little car.

"If you think you can beat me, by all means sweetheart," he tilts your chin up, sighing now. "We didn't talk about..."

"I'm on the pill," you murmur softly, clearing your throat and seeing his eyes dart to your skirt, his thumb slipping up your inner thigh, touching the creamy drips slipping down. "And I'm clean, I've never not used protection."

"I haven't either," a faint blush decorates his cheeks.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we seem to... get caught up," he manages to say, as if he doesn't just wanna cum inside you for all kinds of reasons. Possessive, insane fucking reasons. "So I am too."

"That's good to know, like if you ever…” You trail off, blushing now. “You know, hook up regularly with someone else... Will you tell me?" You ask, brushing your hair back.

"Yeah, of course," as if there's anyone but you in his fucking mind now. "Would you tell me?"

"Not much chance of that happening, I don't like people," he chuckles, then the laugh grows, throwing his head back, earning your scowl. "What is so funny, hmm?"

"You hate me but you sure have no problem cumming all over my cock," his hand entangles in the nape of your neck, tugging and making you gasp out in pleasure. "Or do you actually like me?"

"Psh, you wish," you love his ass, even now you fucking know it, but you can't let him know. That little girl deep inside you still hurts. "Do you even like me?"

"Maybe I do," he smiles too fucking cute. You roll your eyes at him. "You think I don't like you? Should I show you how much, pretty girl?"

"Pretty girl, you're so cringe Toru... I mean... Satoru," you called him that name you did as a kid, it makes his heart hammer in his chest.

"Can't call ya pretty?”

"I mean you can," he chuckles again. "What!?"

"Your blush, it's all over your neck, even your chest," he says all husky, tugging at your top and exhaling, studying the blush your skin has taken. "Blush everywhere, you like me calling you pretty."

You do.

But fuck saying that.

"I'm just overheated," he smirks, lidded gaze penetrating through you, the soft sloshing of mist still making noise on the road around you both. "That's all."

"Mmm, sure sweets," you gather your things carefully, trying to avoid that knowing, cocky ass gaze of Satoru Gojo's. "Will you come?"

"You're actually inviting me huh?" He nods. "All right, what time?"

"Ten ish, come whenever, I'll be ready for the rematch."

*****

Seeing Satoru at that party tonight was a rude awakening.

The girls and guys around him as always, they’d just nailed a game – yeah, you watched it again, damn near incognito in your hoodie, the way he ran across that damn field was more than impressive, it was insane. He so clearly had fun too, seeing him after with all his friends and the entirety of the college almost cheering.

Tonight was absolutely a celebration of the team, and a celebration of Satoru himself. Bright, laughing, beautiful Gojo, catching sight of you from across that room, lips parted ever so slightly, before smiling at you. You’re nervous suddenly, you’ve worn this little red plaid skirt and another pair of fishnets.

You’re praying he’ll rip those too.

It’s toxic of you, you’d just had him inside of you in the car earlier, but all you can think is how much more you need – let him fill you constantly, let him touch you anywhere he wants. Yet you realize when you look around the crowded frathouse, with the music blaring and everyone hyped up from the game?

You’ll never, ever fit in, never be that cute girl by his side who is murmuring something in his ear. You’re not peppy, you’re not ‘full of school spirit’ , you're just a girl hopelessly in love with a boy you don’t know anymore. You really do want to learn more of him, you can’t help but think of how badly you do.

Can you let go of the past with no explanation?

Are you overthinking it?

You’re so lost in thought you don’t notice a guy asking you to dance with him, he’s all sweaty and his cheeks are flushed, you straight up say – no – and then say that to the next guy that comes up too, as Satoru tries to make a way over to you. You’re so uncomfortable then, you can hardly take it.

He’s so far away, in too many ways, every motion closer he’s stopped by someone gushing over him. Satoru Gojo, the most popular boy in school, whose eyes keep locking on you. Instead of coming over to him however, you just go grab a drink hastily, downing it and feeling tears burn your eyes.

Why?

Why were you this affected? And you chose it, asking him to come inside you not once but twice, kissing him and initiating it, begging to suck him. He brings out things that are too hard to admit, too hard to let rise to the surface, making you remember the girl you were back then, when you came really far to be the woman you are now.

“Sweetheart,” his murmur touches you, his hand on your waist, you blush nervously, looking around. “You came.”

“Um, yeah, Satoru, they'll think…”

“Think what?” His words make you tremble, tilting your chin up a bit when he gets called over again. He sighs, rolling his eyes and looking back.

“Speech, speech!”

“They’re annoying,” he grumbles. You shake your head, trembling lips curving in a weird attempt at a smile.

“Go ahead all star, give ‘em the speech.”

You watch a bit of it before you can’t anymore, maybe he’s looking at you still? You’re not sure. Every time you peek up his smile lights the entire room, people are cheering loudly, chanting his name. He owns them entirely, owns this moment.

You turn and someone bumps into you harshly, beer spills onto your skirt. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, grabbing paper towels and dabbing at the wet stain.

“Let me help?” He asks, you feel like crying from something this dumb!?

What’s wrong with you?

“No, it’s fine really,” you clean yourself up, heading through the crowded room of bodies slowly, making your way, looking over your shoulder and losing sight of him.

You shouldn’t have come.

The party's too loud, too crowded, and you find yourself slipping out to the back porch, then further – to the patch of grass behind the frat house where the noise fades to a dull thrum. You're tugging at the ripped hem of your skirt, a little nervous habit you’ve grown to have, looking up at the sky, trying to find constellations through the light pollution.

You remember that night so vividly.

"Running away from my party?"

You don't even turn around, somehow you hoped he'd follow you out, feeling his warmth permeate from behind you. You lean back just a bit against him, eyes fluttering shut at how good it feels, strong hands pressing into your arms gently, slipping down and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Your party's giving me a headache," you mutter, not looking at him as he drops his hands, before sitting down beside you on the grass, you sit next to him, hugging yourself around your knees. "Too many people pretending to like each other."

"Grungy as ever," he teases, but there's something affectionate in his voice. He lies back on the soft bed of grass, hands behind his head, looking up. "Remember when we used to do this?"

Of course you do.

“Yeah, I remember,” you admit, resting your chin on your knees, so many feelings coming to the surface.

It’s a quiet, comfortable silence as the breeze gently blows your hair around your face, coolness brushing against your bare skin, doing nothing to calm how overheated you are, how many words are threatening to spill. Things you have been trying to hold back, to try to compartmentalize in your head.

You’re thinking too much about a physical connection, seeing how Satoru was and how you were? You’re too different, how would you fit into his world? And would he even ever want you to?

"You pointed out Cassiopeia,” he breaks the silence, you gasp, looking down at him, catching the glint of his pretty eyes in the night. “You said you wanted to study astronomy, map the stars, and get as far away from here as possible."

Your chest tightens. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you," he whispers, you tremble now, feeling emotions hot and heavy in your throat. “Every moment.”

“How? With your life now do you… remember me?”

“How could I not?” He tugs you down to lay next to him on that soft grass tickling your skin, you turn to your side and look at him. "So what happened? Why aren't you at some observatory right now, doing what you love? Or do you just… enjoy drawing them instead? That’s okay too, you know."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Life happened, I didn’t get the best grades for a scholarship. Money happened. But also yes, I did end up falling in love with art.”

Satoru brushes his fingers across your cheek, sighing. “You’re amazing at it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his gaze dips to your lips. “Do you ever draw the stars anymore?”

“No, I guess I don’t," you finally look up at him, fingers gripping around his wrist now, thumb brushing the veins that press up. "It was more you that I loved to…”

Shit.

His lips part as you trail off, shaking your head.

It was never the stars you loved, it was the boy who looked at them.

“What about you?” You ask instead, not ready to say it all. “You were supposed to go to MIT. Your family had it all planned out I think, from young even."

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing a bit. "Yeah, well. Fuck his plans."

You blink a bit, sensing his pain. "Oh, Satoru… I…"

“You don’t know, I never told you,” he turns back to look up at the stars, eyes fluttering shut. “All I was supposed to do was study business, finance, and take over the ‘family company’. All that bullshit. And that included…”

You lean closer, a hand on his chest, your eyelashes lowering just a bit as you study the boy you love. “Included what?”

You’re so beautiful then, with the glimmery stars as your background, perhaps the prettiest thing Satoru has ever seen, the combination of the two things he’s loved for so long. Your hair falls to the side like a curtain, he brushes the silky tresses back and sighs.

“They wouldn’t let me date you if I wanted to back then, not anyone… not from money. Because they’re fucking shit.”

“Oh,” you blink back tears. “And I…”

“I never wanted to hurt you with them,” he takes his own breath, leaning up on an elbow, bringing his lips so close. “I should have just told you, but then I was so scared, even when I finally got free of them… Well, you hated me.”

“Satoru, I never hated you, not really,” you’re swallowing down your tears now. “I just was hurt.”

“For good reason,” he muses, sighing now. “To answer your question, I’m not at Ivy league because they wanted me there. I want to study what I want, I’m playing ball because I like it, not because they ever wanted that. And I don’t regret it, despite how fucking mad they are."

“How can they be mad? You’re top at everything?”

He laughs without humor. “They’d only be happy if I married a rich girl, gave them heirs immediately, became a stuck up upper crust fuck. No amount of good grades made them proud, or accomplishments. I’m a Gojo, and that’s all I am supposed to be.”

You cup his face now, shaking your head, the warmth of his palm seeps into your bare skin at your waist, hair tickling his collar bone. “You’re much more than that, you’re… you’re Satoru, okay? Former nerd, conceited little shit, annoying ass Satoru.”

He chuckles then, shaking his head at you, sighing. “Yeah?” You just nod, swallowing down your emotions.

“You should have just told me.”

“I know,” he tilts your chin up a bit, tracing the curve of your jaw. “You know one good thing about being here? Being where you are, getting to kiss you again."

Your breath catches. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

You back off, blinking hot tears that slip down your cheeks. "Don't say shit like that when you've got cheerleaders waiting inside for you. When you're this,” you gesture at him, "And I'm still just..."

"Still just the girl who kissed me under the stars?” You shake your head, he’s pulling too many emotions and you don’t know how long you can hold them back. “The pretty artist, the mean little brat that has me fucked up over her?”

“Satoru…”

“The girl who wanted me for me,” his own emotions catch in his throat, swiping a tear that’s just a little black from your mascara. His voice drops an octave, spreading through you like honey. “You’re just the only person who ever made me want to be myself instead of what everyone else wanted?"

You're both quiet then as his words fall from his lips, the distant bass of the party thrumming and fading, the wind gently blowing his soft white hair around him. “I made you want that?”

“You accepted me for who I was, a nerd yeah,” you giggle through your tears, and Satoru laughs with you. “I never regretted anything more than just running away after that kiss. I was so scared of it, of everything I felt with you.”

“I was scared too,” you admit, swiping tears now. “I was mad at you for a long time.”

“Ya still mad?” He asks softly, tugging you onto his lap now, you brace yourself over him, your silhouette shaded by starlight. “I don’t want any of those girls.”

“But they’re-”

“Not you,” he cuts you off now, hands pressing into your hips as he sits up, kissing your brow. “They’re not you. They want the all star, popular, rich Satoru Gojo – they don’t want that skinny little nerd I was.”

He kisses your nose, a sweet little peck, your arms wrap his neck, feeling his cock pressing against your heat and exhaling, eyes locking. “I liked you as the skinny nerd, with your cute little braces. With your big glasses and how you didn’t know how to kiss for shit.”

Satoru glares now, you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You sucked back then too, you were just so pretty I didn’t say so.”

“You’re such an ass!” You playfully push him down onto the ground, only for him to flip your positions, hovering over you – and for just a moment, he's that nervous boy again, and you're that girl who loves him.

The space closes as he leans down, studying your face carefully. “You got much better at it, but I can’t help but be so fucking mad it wasn’t me who taught you.”

“Yeah, I feel the same,” you arch your hips, earning snowy lashes fluttering shut, his breath ghosting against your skin. “All those girls got you first.”

“Guess what?” He lifts a thigh, pressing his cock against your heat – you gasp out at it, biting down at your lip.

“W-what, manwhore fratboy,” he smirks.

“Slutty goth girl.”

“Conceited dick,” you’re arching for more, he pins your wrist to the soft earth below, weight pressing over you. “Say it, then.”

“I am still in love with that girl on the rooftop,” you take a shaky breath, breasts rising and falling then. “I never fell out of love with her. I was just fucking dumb and ran away, and I’m hoping she’ll forgive me, and that she’ll date a conceited jock idiot.”

“He’s still a nerd deep down,” you answer, lips trembling now. “You’re gonna make me mushy, you dick.”

“Good, I want to see mushy, I wanna see what’s under your mean little exterior,” he whispers, pressing again. “Like when you’re a mess underneath me.”

“Satoru…” You drag him down for a kiss, mouths clashing, tongues dancing along each other, the sound of his soft moan and the grass underneath you mixing with your little whimper. “Mmm, Satoru, I fucking love you too. Okay!?”

The words hang in the air between you both.

Satoru just stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. His lips part like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out, closing again, before his Adam's apple bobs up and down, taking a breath.

"You…" His voice cracks. "You still love me?"

“Of course I do dummy,” you whisper, but your own voice is shaking, vision swimming with all of those emotions coming to the surface. His forehead presses to yours, his hands trembling where they cup your face.

"I thought I'd fucked it up so bad that you'd never… that we'd never…"

“No, Satoru, you were just a kid,” you sigh now, tears slipping down your cheek. “I was scared that this was just fun with the weirdo from your past.”

“No, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, swiping more of your tears. “It was never just that.” He laughs then, shaking his head at you.

“What’s so funny?” You shove at him, glaring as he continues to laugh.

“What an fucking angry love confession that was!?”

“Don’t you complain,” you shove playfully, sniffling tears that are a mix of love, emotions, desire. “I’m also a jealous bitch, so if I see those girls on you after we’re official? I’ll throw down.”

“God you’re making me even harder,” his grin is devious, but then he’s tugging your panties to the side, fingers finding you. “Guess what, sweetheart?”

“What - ngh!” Satoru’s fingers stretch open before they scissor you, watching the mess you are underneath him, your hair spread all over like a fucking dream.

“You won’t be allowed to leave slutty like this,” you gasp, shoving at him and glaring, but he’s grinning psychotically. “Not without me fucking all my cum into you first, that is.”

“Psycho,” you mumble it affectionately, he grins wider, curling those fingers and hearing the messy sounds of your cunt. “That makes me wetter.”

“You’re toxic too,” you arch for more, drowning in him, the soft moonlight glowing behind his form. “You’ll drip me at campus, you’ll stop hiding from me when you go to all my football games,” your eyes widened. “Yeah, I see you, think you’re slick?”

“I just… fuck off and kiss me.”

You drag him down, and his mouth moves over yours, fingers scissoring in and out, causing so much pressure you’re about too cum. “So easy f’me, you’ll let me fuck you before you go to any class, won’t you?”

“Insane, possessive f-freak, you… oh god, yes. Toxic ass.”

“Mmm, says you, ready to beat a bunch of cheerleaders for me?” You drag him down again.

“Shh,” Satoru’s yanking those fingers out, slipping your own slick across your lips and then kissing you with it. You hastily slip open his jeans, gasping out when his tip presses. “In me, please.”

“You’re sweet when it comes to my cock,” he taunts, lifting your thigh even higher, blue eyes dilated almost black. “Tell me you love me again.”

“You mushy ass,” you grumble, shaking your head only to get his tip pressing up your slit against your clit. “Mnh!”

“You’ll fuck me right outside where anyone can see?”

“You talk too much,” you’re rolling your hips, dying for him to slip inside you again, but Satoru pulls back even more, kissing up the side of your neck. “Mnh, please… I said please, okay?”

“Wanna hear it,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your face, cock throbbing and leaking on your puffy folds, lips hovering. “Say it.”

“You’re so conceited,” he grins, making you sigh, leaning up on your elbows and brushing his hair back, feeling its silky texture through your fingers. “I love you. I have always loved you, even when I hated you. Okay?”

He kisses you deep, messy, sliding in and filling you full in one stroke, yanking a pretty tit out and moaning, tongue lapping around it and bringing you higher. “I love your tits god.”

“Just them!?”

“Your pussy too.”

“Satoru!” He chuckles, looking down at your cute little glare.

“Your drawings of me, the way you look at me like you wanna kill me and fuck me,” he pulls back and slams in again, fucking you right behind that party, where you’re both all alone under the stars. He exhales and touches your tummy, moaning. “Love how I fill you up here. Gonna pump so much cum inside you.”

“Mnh,” you’re flipped on top of him in a quick motion, so Satoru can look at your silhouette again, groaning as you ride him up and down, rolling your hips.

“Love those too,” he grips them, exhaling. “Mean little goth.”

“I love you, nerd wanna be fratboy,” he glares and you glare right back, until Satoru presses up inside you, hugging you around the waist, capturing your lips in his.

“Fuck I love you,” he whispers, letting you slam down on him and groaning against your collarbone, teeth nipping the skin, murmuring your name as he fills you up completely.

A jock and a grungy art girl riding his cock on the outside – but deep down you’re just two nerdy kids that loved to look at the stars, and loved each other.

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