"so you're telling me this frog is satoru?" your brows furrowed at the thought your boyfriend is a fucking frog. you know that satoru loves pulling pranks, but he's nowhere to see, only suguru stands in front of you, trying convince you and holds out a frog on his palms.
"you see, a kiss from true love could turn him back into a human."
you glare at suguru and a frog that's supposedly is satoru. how can you kiss a frog? that's... disgusting. slimy. a translucent sac swelled under his jaw, pulsing before collapsing again, he looks at you with those big eyes, somehow feels familiar. you don't want to kiss him, but you can't keep satoru in that form.
with a deep breath, you take the frog and hesitantly bring him closer to your face. your eyes squeeze shut and lips trembling as press a quick, reluctant kiss against his cold, damp skin.
for a second there's nothing. then the air shifts, and when you open your eyes, the frog is getting big and he's in front of you. your breath catches in the throat, everything looms, towering, wrong. no, he's not getting bigger, you're the one shrinking.
"hey sweets, you believe that I'm a frog now?" satoru still in the frog form, smirks at you. in the background suguru's laughing so hard. then you realize, you're a frog too. you couldn't hold back the anger, so you slap satoru with your tiny, damp hand.
he flies a few centimeters from where he was. and suguru holds his stomach, oh he finds it's funny. satoru quickly hops back toward you while tries to hold back laugh. "sweets, calm down, i can explain."
"did you know that it would turn out like this?" you glare at satoru with your wide, bulging eyes. he stops a safe distant away, not close enough for you to slap him again. he's still grinning like he won the game.
"sweets, I'm sorry," you know he's not sorry. "yes, i did know that you would turn into a frog too, but i know how to turn back into humans." he slowly approaches you again.
suguru finally stops laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes. from his point of view, the two of you are... just frogs, tiny, and ridiculous frogs bickering at each other, croak croak croak. it's so hilarious. maybe he should show two of you off to everyone.
"i don't trust you." you hop to exit the room, you're so furious for what happened. and satoru scrambles after you. "wait, sweets, hear me first."
you barely make it past the doorway when the ground suddenly trembles beneath you, shakes so hard enough to throw off your balance. satoru bumps into you from behind, nearly knocking you over.
a heavy thud echoes through the hallway, footsteps. then shoko already looking down at you and satoru. relief floods through you when you see her this fast, so you hop on her shoe, clinging to the leather. "shoko, help me break this curse."
unfortunately, shoko only hears croak croak croak from you. suguru laughs again as he explains what happened to you. you're so mad, they're only laughing, including satoru, the one who caused this disaster.
shoko only explains that curse can break with a kiss from another frog. little do you know, she could fix it herself, but satoru has other plans.
"still mad at me, sweets?" satoru hops closer to you. he knows when you're down, your face never lie, even in another form. maybe his prank went too far. he should make it up for you, even you don't want to listen to him. "come with me, i want to show you something, sweets."
you have no choice but hopping after him. satoru's back feels strange but familiar. he leads you outside, the full moon hang high in the sky. he stops when you two arrive at the pond. "let's hop on there, okay?"
satoru hops onto one of the lily pads with ease, like he's used to do this. the leaf dipping slightly under his weight. feeling safe, satoru glances back at you. "come here, sweets."
you staring at the water beneath, dark and unfamiliar. but you jump, because you trust satoru. the moment your tiny body lands, the leaf wobbles, water rippling around you. and satoru catches you with those damp arms.
before you can pull away, he gently turns you to face the view stretching wider than you've ever seen it in human form. satoru takes your hands and spread them out into the cool air. you glance over your shoulder to look at him. "satoru—"
"do you remember this scene, sweets?"
you recognize this posture, standing at the edge of lili pad, arms wide open, satoru right behind you, it's that iconic scene from titanic. a small laugh escapes from your lips. you don't want to forgive him, but this is so stupidly him. "you're ridiculous, satoru."
satoru smiles, you finally not mad at him again. then when he feels right, his arms wrapped around you. you close your eyes as he leans in toward you. and you feel his lips on yours. the kiss slow at first then deeper.
you're too consumed in a deep kiss to notice the air shifting around you. you both break the kiss when water splash on you, and satoru half-laying in the water, back in his human form. he smirks at you. "hey, missed me, sweets?"
you push yourself up from half-laying on satoru, you're back in human form. you stare at your hands and touch your face and body to make sure you're back. satoru clears his throat to get your attention. "like what i said, that worked."
"but you made me a frog from the kiss." you splash the water on him. he's just laughing clearly entertained from how feisty you are. then he splashes you back. it turns into a mess, water flying everywhere, both of you laughing like kids in the middle of pond.
suddenly something lands on satoru's head, soft and damp, then following with the croak sounds. you didn't think twice before run out of the pond, leaving satoru still freezes on the spot. you hate frog.
i got inspired by the princess and the frog 🐸, and wrote this while thinking satoru's frog face. thank you for reading 🤍
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Your daughter finds her father's journal after you both pass away.
Synopsis: You and Satoru's daughter finds her late father's journal after he passes away, just one year after you did.
(as a thank you to all 500 of u for supporting my silly works!! Love u all. )
Tags: Fluff, cute, kinda bittersweet so like angst with comfort. I'm sobbing, lovey dovey husband!satoru x wife!reader, established relationship (married), growing old and reminiscing, nostalgia is a bitch. Kind of canon au but he survives so canon divergence. Middle pic is someones oc but imagine its ur daughter
Spring is in full swing.
Beautiful vast yards of grass are covered in colorful flowers like a Claude Monet painting. Yuuka unlocks the front door to her childhood home nestled deep in the Tokyo mountains where the sun reaches first and the night greets last with quietness and star-covered skies.
The door swings open and dust welcomes her with a sorrowful package. Nostalgia and grief hitting her in that silent but heavy way. It's been one year since her father died and she hasn't had the courage to come back here.
Well, she hasn't really dared to visit as much either since her mother died too, two years ago.
But now, with a will that favor her and her children too much—Satoru having left her, his only daughter, his entire fortune including the house and all of his cherished antique cars—Yuuka can't hide from the place she grew up in anymore.
Her chest fills with old memories and a pressure that reminds her just how lonely it is without her parents. Yet, an undescribable warmth lingers on the surface of the abandoned house—inviting her in as if her mother was still there, waiting with arm's open at the end of the hall and her father trailing behind with his bright smile and light eyes, the same ones she has.
It's exactly how the remembers it. Wooden floorboards that started creaking somewhere along the years, a small foyer with a hanger, a dark oak console table that holds a colorful plate with keys that no longer have owners—and right next to it, frames.
Frames and frames of life.
Of her life.
And her parents' life.
She sees the first frame that she recognizes too well. Where she's on her father's shoulders at 4 years old and smiling as widely as her then-35-year-old father was.
White hair on white hair. Big toothy smiles (she was missing quite a few teeth, but that's not the point) and matching cerulean eyes. Nobody would dare to say she's not her father's twin.
Yuuka remembers you recounting the story anytime she'd ask about how you took the picture on the day of her father's birthday when you both surprised him at work with a birthday party.
The honeyed sound of her mother’s voice rings in her head and her throat starts to burn. She said she wouldn't cry as she can basically feel her dad saying from up there that his princess shouldn't cry, but she can't push back the first streak from falling down her face.
Another frame shows you and Satoru on a sunflower field. His large hands that can could cause irreversible damage to the world softly curved and gently holding his world as he cups your then 6 month bump from behind.
Then holding his world. Head dipped and snuggled into your shoulder where he was pressing fragile kisses to, Satoru made you giggle at the exact moment the picture snapped and your smiling and glowing figure was recorded forever.
His daughter remembers him boast about the picture and how much he loved it. She can see why. You look radiant in it.
The next frame is the largest one. It's importance needing to be pronounced because it's the grounds for this house and her own existence.
Your wedding portrait.
This year, Yuuka knows you would've celebrated your 60th anniversary with Satoru. But in the picture, back then, you were just 26. Young and still as beautiful as you were in your last moments.
All kind eyes and soft smiles wearing a white dress that looked made for you. A lively bouquet of flowers in your hands, with the same kind of delicate petals she'd grown to favor through the years.
Satoru was on your right.
Supposed to be looking at the camera.
But he wasn't.
He was looking at you. Unable to rip his eyes from his then-bride as you looked straight ahead onto the lens. Lips slightly parted and head lowered to you, Satoru looked like he was starstruck.
And Yuuka could see how much he loved you then.
And she saw how much he loved you till his last breath.
Even when you were no longer with him.
Her father's spirit is recorded in every corner of the house.
Past the entrance hall there is an open old-fashioned kitchen to the left that is a sore sight for her knowing that three years ago she would've walked in to see you—with your weak bones and wrinkled skin—cooking and jumping at the sight of her visiting.
On the right there is a vast living room with an outdated TV you both sentimentally refused to allow your daughter to change, and a couch that has lived longer than her.
Where she spent a lot of time on. Play fighting with her dad, watching movies with friends as a teenager, screaming when she got into her dream college, crying when she announced her pregnancy to her parents.
Her life is in this house.
And far back is the master bedroom where you slept with your husband.
Yuuka's steps are hesitant as she draws near the entrace. The door creaks open with an ear-splitting screech.
She's met with the sight it always had. A comically large bed as her father was 6 feet 3 and never slept a day without her mother. Two nightstands filled with more pictures to the brim, some of her but most of them.
Polaroids glued to the wall from more than 60 years ago—from back when her parents were still dating—a walk-in closet her father hand built and designed for his wife as he knew they would have no place to keep the gifts he spoiled her with.
And a small entrance in the roof that leads up to the attic where Yuuka has rarely ever been in.
That catches her attention like a moth to a flame. She's tall enough now—being 180 and allowing her to catch some modeling gigs as a teenager—she easily pulls down the trap door and attached stairs come down as well.
At 60, with her kids well into adulthood, her knees hurt just a bit as she climbs the stairs. And up in the attic she's met with so much dust it's hard to breathe.
Her lungs beg for release so she cracks a window open in the roof which illuminates the space for her to finally see and not be engulfed in darkness.
Boxed stacked on top of boxed is pretty much all there is save for a few pieces of old furniture you've both replaced sometime.
There are labels named with your handwriting on every piece of cardboard.
"Wedding pictures, 2019."
"Honeymoon pictures, 2019."
"Yuuka, 2020~2040."
"Y/N L/N, 2014-2018." Of when you were dating her father, not yet married.
"Y/N Gojo, 2019-2076." In Satoru's messy handwriting. He must have made your box once you passed away.
A small smile places itself on Yuuka's lips as she eyes how much bigger the box of your belongings as Y/N Gojo is. Knowing how much Satoru loved to spoil you.
She's about to open the box from your youth when a small, new-looking box catches her eyes.
It's yellow, sealed around the edges, with a different label on the front. And as she pulls the strangely light, seemingly empty box closer to her, she notices the different handwriting.
Oh.
It's her father's box.
"Satoru Gojo, 2014-2077."
Her heart aches at the slightly faded ink.
Satoru died in 2078.
But he stopped living when you did.
So in 2077 his life ended.
He must have stayed only for her and his nephews.
Now, as she stares at the box, the memories of her father's tense smile—not at all how it used to be—in his last year cloud her mind and a sob rips free from her chest.
Hooking her shaky fingers around the sides, she tugs the tape off and opens the the box to find it almost empty—only a worn out journal in the middle.
"My angel." Is written in the middle in cleaner but still recognisable as her late-fathers handwriting.
Her mouth falls open at the sight. The spine threatens to split as she picks up the overstuffed, yellow paged pages.
For a second, she hesitates.
It's a diary after all.
She's not supposed to see this.
But she can't help it.
Gently, she peels open the wrinkled book to see the first page.
She imagines her father's voice booming through the attic as he reads.
January 14th, 2018.
Hello future me! My beautiful beautiful beautiful amazing wife (we aren't married yet but we will be) (i already bought the ring, she doesn't know yet hihi <(￣︶￣)>) said that I should not post so much about my life on facebook because it's dangerous and something about digital footprint as if i know what that's about.
Anyway, I did kind of listen to her and stopped for a while.
But then my lovely wife saw how sad I got and she bought me this journal! She even engraved out initials in the back!
Yuuka flips the diary to indeed find your initials pressed into the leather on the back.
She continues reading.
So I'm going to start writing even though it is probably not going to be as satisfying as Megumi, Yuji and Nobara (Nanami sometimes) commenting on my amazing facebook posts.
Anyway, Y/N is making cake and I can't let her whisk anything as the great husband I am so bye!
February 1st, 2018.
Guess who is engaged? Guess who said "I do!"? My wife!!!!!!! My fiancee. I am getting married. I feel like a little kid who got his favorite candy. I was so nervous like it took me back to when Yaga would catch me Shoko and Suguru doing something wrong.
Y/N is really happy with her ring and I gotta admit, I nailed it.
Can't wait to see her in a white dress and then make a family. Love my wife so much.
June 26th, 2018.
When did my little kids become so big ಥ_ಥ? We won against the Kyoto sister school today since well, long story short we got attacked a few days ago blah bla blah so we decided on a match of baseball! And I knew I trained the kids well because we absolutely destroyed Kyoto! Am I not just great?
Still at work right now, have my diary locked in my secret drawer with candies. Miss my wife so much (´;︵;`). I wonder if she'll let me sleep on her in the bathtub again today. She said she couldn’t breathe because I'm too heavy. I am not heavy! I work hard for these muscles, I'm jacked and she knows it. (个_个) Can't wait to go home.
July 4th, 2018.
Nobara is at it again with her shopping shenanigans, Yuji just called me saying he physically can't handle carrying her bags anymore. I told him to man up and carry them. My sweet Y/N has never carried a single bag, paid for anything or opened a single door in my presence. Maybe I should just make a robot that opens and does things for her when I'm not around.
Or I should just quit my job and be with her 24/7!
She's been so stressed lately with so many wedding preparations. I mean I help, and I try to relieve her stress with my amazing methods but it doesn't seem to be working. She's been forgetting to eat her meals and I'm worried. I think she's putting too much pressure on herself. I don't want her to change anything about herself for the wedding. I'd marry her tomorrow if it meant i could have her now.
But she wants a ceremony, says it's every little girl's dream. So i comply. I'll try making her something tonight. Or just pick up the macarons she likes. Yeah.
July 21st, 2018.
My wife has just brushed me off because she says she has to go try on wedding dresses! Am I the asshole if I don't want a ceremony anymore? Just give me my wifeeeeee! This is crucifying. Painful. My heart hurts.
Also, she banned me from coming with her. I want to see the dresses too... Why does Utahime get to go but I don't? I'm tired of this. I'm bored. Maybe I should ask Nanami for help. I do need to get my suit... and my shoes... and get a haircut—it's kind of early for that... Y/N gets a little feral when I cut my hair and I don't think she wants a baby at our wedding.
Oh i could start thinking of baby names!
Yuuka's face scrunches up at her father's words.
August 17th, 2018.
I am actually not as committed to this, but at the same time I am yk? Anyway, today we got a wedding cake sample taster thingy! We got it from Nanami's girlfriend, she has a bakery. It was a huge cake with each slice a different flavor, it was amazing. Me and Y/N saw the gates of heaven. I'm glad we agreed that Chocolate and cookies and cream mouse is going to be our cake, its our wedding and we eat what we want to! It's amazing getting married to your soulmate like Y/N is so amazing we had the same opinions on every single slice. Like the lemon tart was awful, well, not literally. But for a wedding cake? I felt a shiver go down my wife's spine.
Anyway, I do want the ceremony again. For now, as my precious angel gets ready for the big day, I'm planning the honeymoon. It's going to be epic. Thinking of Italy, greece, or maybe a retreat in the moutains. She likes quiet places. Said we should have a house up high.
Maybe I should make her a house as a wedding gift! Ooh~ Can i get that done in 4 months..?
October 7th, 2018.
Told the wifey I was out for a business trip—and I am! Sorta. Me and Nanami are looking for land (i am paying for his "overtime" →_→ but he's been really helpful so...). Feeling a bit bad for lying to Y/N... Will prob tell her the truth after the house is built. I've found out it will be done earliest (unfurnished, but I'll leave her to decorate it) by March.
And feeling really bad because I'm away from her! Just one more day and I'll be home! Wedding soon!
November 19th, 2018.
T minus 5 days till our wedding!!!! I'm getting married! Wonder what Suguru is thinking of it. Wish he were here. As my best man.
November 23rd, 2018.
It's tomorrow.
Tomorrow I marry the love of my life. The woman that has held me through the good and bad without needing vows. Speaking of vows, I'm nervous to say them. Needed a lot of help from Shoko to put my love for Y/N into words. I wonder how she feels because she's Y/N's maid of honor as her bsf passed away not long ago. I guess me and my wifey have lost a lot together. We are still together tho. Perfect for each other.
I can't wait to see her tomorrow. I am going to cry I'm saying it now. Recording it for wifey to see it someday. I know myself. She also said she knows I'll cry. I will. Can't wait. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight. I hope Y/N doesn't feel my heartbeat going insane.
I'm getting married!!
February 1st, 2019.
Help, I forgot to update for a while. Today is our one year engagement anniversary. Was on my honeymoon... if you need a reminder, Satoru, check your camera hihi. Anyway, my lovely baby is having a baby! We're pregnant! Well, she is. I don't get why people say that. I'm rethinking that idea of making her a robot that helps around since I'm still working. Either way, Y/N is so so so pretty with her two month bump, we'll know the gender next week. I am soooooo excited. But i know we are having a girl so i guess it's no fun.
I'm not going to tell her i saw it with my six eyes... but i knew way before too! I knew it was a girl since day one!
Can't wait till she finds out. My wife. Yep im a husband, almost father. She looked mesmerizing, like nothing i could have ever imagined on our wedding btw. Yes, i cried. And im still the manliest man and strongest man she knows. I love you so much, Y/N.
February 30th, 2019.
Hi Satoru's diary, it's your wife. You ran out after i muttered the words "I lowkey would go insane for some doritos and vanilla ice cream right now." And left this for me to find on your desk while i napped. I'm sure you didn't want me to find out about this, i haven't read anything i promise. Maybe the first line on page one before starting to sob. Your daughter is making me really moody. I hope you're already thinking of baby names.
I love you so much, Satoru. You have no no no idea at all. You're the light in my day, the reason behind my smiles, the motive behind the stars in my eyes. You're my everything and I'm so glad I married someone so perfect as you. We have had our arguments and downs, but look at us! 6 months away from being parents! Who would've thought? 2012 me would've been screaming crying and throwing up over the fact that I'm having a baby with my senior crush!! Okay cutie I think I hear ur footsteps, love you so much bye bye. Kisses, love.
-your wife.
August 8th, 2019.
Baby Yuuka is here! Welcome to the world my little princess, you are already so loved. Uncle Nanami is currently holding you with the softest look on his face, it's actually scary. His wife wants a go at holding you too but I'm pretty sure I can see the cogs in his head turning and I'm pretty sure he wants one now too. Slow down, Nanamin, you've been married for three months (we made Yuuka on our honeymoon).
Your mother looks gorgeous. Tired? Yes. But so bright. I'm giving your aunt five minutes until I kick everyone out so your mom can sleep and I can take care of you.
You are a NICU baby in case you didn't know, Stressed the living life out of me and your mom when you came out half-dead. The world went quiet when you were in intensive care. We weren't well. It was the scariest thing in the world.
I almost lost my wife. We have agreed to not have any more children. But I'm certain that you will be more than enough for us. Why am I already starting to cry at the thought of you leaving for college and getting married?! You're barely a day old!
Anyway, thank you to my wife for giving me the best gift in the world. I love you, Y/N.
December 7th, 2019.
Yuuka's little babbles are the cutest thing ever help my heart is melting. It's my birthday! I'm 30... thirty and flirty! (Only with my wife.). Y/N got me a vintage record player! And all of my favorite songs! Mornings have just updated, will blast Mine by Bazzi and sing my soul out to my dearest tomorrow!!!
Sweetheart is tired, her milk ducts keep getting clogged, Yuuka is a pretty fussy baby. I try to stay up and massage her tense shoulders, she passes out in the tub while I wash her hair. It's so cute. I remember when I used to be the one falling asleep on her. Well, now the perks of being the strongest come in handy!
January 3rd, 2020.
First Christmas with a baby and first New Year done! Apparently...Nanami is having a baby too... what a Christmas present... I got a Christmas present like that too... Is he copying me..? Me and Y/N are dropping off the little princess at her grandparents to go and visit our friends. Been a while, need to update Suguru about how my daughter is crawling.
January 14th, 2020.
Was looking at the calendar today and I was like"I feel like today is something important." And it is! Been journaling for two years now! ( ◜‿◝ ) Re-read my entries and found out my darling wrote one! She's so adorable l love her so much I'm going to explode.
Yuuka is a clingy adorable baby, her mom calls her a velcro baby. I secretly hope her first words are dada and i sometimes teach her how to say it, hopefully Y/N doesn't see this oups. Anyway, speaking of my wife. She looks so good I just want to—
Modern-day Yuuka slams the book closed before her eyes catch the next words. With tears running down her cheeks, she decides she's invaded her father's privacy enough.
There's a whole thousand of pages to read, history of more than 60 years in them.
But what lies inside are secrets between you and Satoru.
Moment's she's not supposed to remember and that's fine.
Her chest is still tight with longing and ache.
She's never missed her parents so much.
The clean smell of fresh linen and softener her mother always eluded.
The feeling of her feet dangling in the air when her father would pick her up in a hug.
Or the comforting taste of mom's kikufiku she'd mastered because her husband adored it.
It's all so beautiful.
The love you both shared.
A love so deep it birthed her.
A love so deep it raised a child.
A child who years to go back to simpler times.
She understands now when you both acted like cringy teenagers even in your forties.
And she used to be embarrassed about it.
About her parents being so in love.
But now, a mother herself.
She understands it so much.
And she's so happy you are together now.
As much as she misses you both.
Yuuka is happy you're both reunited.
Watching over her.
Back to my roots (fluff). Hi <3
This was in my drafts alr written but im waiting on the poll results for my next clear out. Looks like suguru and scarjo(mylove) are coming back!!
⸝⸝ ꒰ ˖ ࣪ ❤︎ HOPE U DON’T HATE ME ! ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ฅ ₎ა 五条 :: eating ramen with satoru ends up with him kissing you ?!
ׂ ִ 💬 satoru gojo ఌ︎ fem!reader sfw fluff crack sheher pronouns college au he’s so awkward and silly 1.1k wc
it was raining outside. the soft patter against your dorm window mixed with the sound of an old teen drama playing quietly on your laptop.
you and satoru sat shoulder to shoulder against the headboard with your ramen bowls balanced on your laps.
“i don’t understand why you like him more,” you said, watching a charming vampire flirt with the empathetic high school girl. “he’s literally the reason why half of the bad stuff happens in the show.”
“he’s just more entertaining,” he shrugged. “the other vampire is sooo boring.”
“he’s better for her though…”
“doesn’t make him any less boring.” he shoved another giant mouthful into his mouth, slurping loudly and shamelessly. you winced and scooted over when broth splashed onto the blankets.
“oooh… toru,” you said through your teeth.
“what?” he glanced up at you, words muffled.
he was such a messy eater. did he even eat before coming over? you sighed and looked back down at your bowl. “um… nothing.”
you both continued eating. after a moment, a piece of cabbage and a little broth clung to his cheek, yet he kept eating like nothing happened. completely oblivious.
after a few minutes, you glanced over again, and it was still there. you wanted to tell him, but your mouth was full of noodles. if you tried to talk now, it’d either come out as complete gibberish or you’d choke.
instead, you reached over and gently tapped his broad shoulder.
he looked at you, still chewing. “hm?” you pointed to your own cheek, silently trying to tell him: you’ve got something on your face.
he blinked, trying to figure out what you meant. then, his mind went somewhere completely different…
wait… does she want me to kiss her?
his ears immediately turned pink. his heart started pounding so hard he swore you could hear it. he glanced at your laptop, and the two main characters were kissing.
is this show making her feel romantic? does she actually want me to kiss her??? there’s no way.
he swallowed. to you, though, he was just staring at you blankly. you rolled your eyes, assuming he was just being difficult again, and looked back down at your ramen, deciding to just finish chewing before explaining.
as you gathered another bite with your chopsticks, you suddenly felt a large, warm hand cup your face. before you could even look up, a soft kiss landed against your cheek.
your eyes widened. you completely froze, chopsticks still suspended in your hand. unfortunately, when he pulled away, there was now a tiny smear of broth on your cheek because he transferred it.
“there,” he said, trying to sound cool even though he was smiling nervously.
heat rushed to your face. your lips were parted as you took in what just happened. “toru...”
he looked back at you hopefully, his face bright red. “…yeah?”
“i meant…” you said quietly, awkwardly pointing toward his face. “your cheek. there was broth on it.”
in silence, you watched the smile on his face disappear in real time. he reached up and wiped his face. when he looked down, there was indeed broth on his fingertips.
“ohhh…” his face got even redder, embarrassment flooded through his body. “so… you weren’t asking for a kiss?”
your lips twitched, trying your best not to laugh. “i couldn’t talk because my mouth was full,” you said, shaking your head.
satoru groaned, and you burst into laughter. he finally kissed the girl that he’d been crushing on for months and she’s laughing… “you could’ve just waited to tell me!” he groaned, scratching the back of his head.
“i thought you’d understand!” you said honestly, wiping the stray tear from your eye. “apparently not…”
he let out a defeated sigh, wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and forced his attention back to the show he didn’t even care about anymore.
you avoided each other’s eye contact and after about thirty painfully awkward seconds, satoru suddenly stood up.
“where are you going?” you asked, watching him as he grabbed his coat. “to my dorm,” he said plainly.
you never saw satoru be this embarrassed before. he was usually always so confident, so charismatic. seeing him like this was actually kind of adorable…
“…your ramen?” you reminded him, picking up the bowl that was still half full.
“i’m not hungry anymore.” he slipped into his coat before hurriedly shoving on his shoes. you frowned. “toru, you’re seriously gonna leave?”
he didn’t answer, he just reached for the doorknob instead. “satoru!!” you called after him, laughing.
“goodnight!” he rushed out, and shut the door. he was the only person in the hallway, so he leaned against the door and covered his mouth with one hand.
fuck, he really just kissed you. he kissed you because he thought that you wanted him to. but you didn’t. was this going to ruin your friendship? would you avoid him tomorrow? would things be weird now?
his thoughts spiraled so fast he slowly slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, knees bent, face burning.
“…satoru?” he looked up and saw shoko standing there wearing shorts and an oversized gap hoodie, holding a convenience store bag that was probably full of snacks.
“what’re you doing in the girls dorm… by yourself?”
“shoko! i—“ his mouth opened and then it closed again. she looked down at him, then at your closed dorm room door behind him. “what happened?”
he covered his face with both hands. “…i kissed her.”
“i thought she wanted me to!” he blurted out, stumbling over every other word. “she pointed at her cheek and i thought she wanted me to kiss her!”
he groaned into his hands. “but she was just trying to tell me there was broth on my face… and then i got broth on her.”
shoko sighed with an unimpressed expression, shaking her head. “you’re such an idiot.”
“i know,” he mumbled.
“did she kick you out?” she asked. he thought back on it for a second… she actually didn’t. he left because he was too embarrassed to stay.
you hadn’t shoved him away, you hadn’t yelled at him, you weren’t even upset! you just laughed and smiled. looking as pretty as you always did.
“…no.”
“oh. then you’re probably fine,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “now get up. who knows how dirty this floor is.” she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
inside your dorm, the show was still playing but you haven’t paid attention to a single line since satoru walked out. you stared at the door before touching the cheek that he kissed.
you wiped away the little bit of broth with your fingertip, then you thought about how his smile disappeared the second he realized he’d misunderstood you.
how red his ears had gotten, how quickly he’d run away… a small smile spread across your face. you absentmindedly sucked the broth off your fingertip.
“he’s so cute…” you laughed quietly to yourself.
“but so stupid.”
@chosayi ( they was watching vampire diaries btw #need )
for valentine's day, satoru decided that he should stop being a loser and ask to be your valentine. you, the shy girl from his class that he has a crush on. well, safe to say he did a good job! ( 8k )
notes in red ... tried proofreading this and realized i couldn’t be bothered, LMAO. i really enjoyed writing this back then, but trying to proofread it in present time actually feels daunting for whatever reasons; do excuse any mistakes, i wrote this while travelling back then, hihi. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this one! reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
satoru is, truly, done for.
the student athlete who's one of this university's pride is beyond help, to be precise. he's doomed in any way possible to exist in this dimension he's in. how come? well, this six-foot-three basketball player has yet managed to ask the prettiest girl he ever laid his eyes on, for a date. and valentine's day is tomorrow, which means he only has little to no time on the clock, waiting for him.
oh, no, that's a bit of a stretch. because times never wait for anything or anyone, so it's either he throws away this sense of pride that's lingering in the air or he's doomed for life due to his inability in asking you out. that's right, you.
you, who somehow managed to tug the frosted-haired man's heart and attention, letting it shift to hover around your world. except, you have yet to find out about that truth— because satoru gojo is actually a loser in disguise of a rising star, student athlete.
he has act, at the very least, more than a hundred different scenario of him asking you to watch his match, which will be held tomorrow. to the mirror in his dorm. satoru is at loss of words from how his tongue would twist the moment it reaches the line of spending time with you. he's a student who major in communication, so how come having a conversation with you feels this impossible?
if he, who supposedly is a master at the matter, is unable to ask permission in becoming your valentine … what does it make of him?
what word could, perchance, wrapped this whole thing with a pretty ribbon more secure than the word "loser"? because that word can't suffice this shamefulness he's facing in his incompetency at saying a few words arranged, dedicated for you.
ah, right, there's that one word. failure.
satoru is a failure, if he still can't find it in him to ask for a day spent with you. he's a man who arguably near perfect, so if he by the end of this class still choosing the pride of not wanting to look desperate— he may be referred as "good-for-nothing". it is the title he willingly bear due to how such a bum he is when it comes to you.
then again, it's you. in satoru's defense, anyone should be feeling a little miserable, for even having the thought of wanting to hold your hand during valentine. you're the most enchanting, delicate, woman he has ever come across in his life. and having the honor of breathing your air should've been enough. however, satoru is undoubtedly greedy for a simple brush of your skin against his.
he's more than miserable, he acknowledges it.
you're far divine for this world, he would argue with the mirror. it's a blessing for this earth to have you take a step on it, he swears on his life. every soul should be grateful that you even cast a glance in their way or pay them a little attention. it's a stroke of luck, he might add.
which is why, how is he supposed to not feel his pride crumbling, desperation creeping in, and words scattering around, when you're the target of his attention? it drags him off the cliff at how he keeps hopping between the line of a loser and a failure. you just, exceptionally, drive him crazy!
"suguru, give me a pat on the back," he whispers at the dark-haired man sitting beside him. satoru's gaze is locked at you, surrounded by your friend group at the table far to his right, chattering about one topic to another. "give me some courage to even utter a single word to her," the man added.
suguru, who has been scrolling away at his phone let out a sigh at the absurdity of his best friend. it's just too much for him to bear; the scene of satoru being stupidly down-bad, he lost his way in talking. he was a smooth-talker, all sweet nothing with other girls before the cerulean-eyed man fallen deep into your world. satoru is beyond saving, in his opinion, at the very least.
"you speak as if you're heading to war."
"i might as well."
he was not given the chance to answer. suguru was just about to add another sentence, yet he was three steps behind the man whose fingers were now fidgeting one another. it's almost uncanny how the proud student athlete is now reduced into a soon-to-be-good-for-nothing of a man.
"just talk to her like any other day. weren't you in the same group with her semester one?" suguru asked, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
"yeah, but i haven't liked her at that time! it's a whole different interaction now," satoru grumbled, still watching at how the edge of your eyes would crinkle from how your lips is being painted with a subtle, yet undeniably charming of a smile. "i'm not viewing her as a classmate anymore, you know? it's another side of the world. she's a woman now, to me."
"oh … i get it. still though, didn't you practice everyday? that line of asking to be her valentine?" suguru gaze drifted towards where you and your friends were sitting before his mind struck with an idea, his head turned to satoru. "why don't you ask shoko? they're in the same friend group. i don't see why you can't do that."
the one suguru talked with waves his hand at his face, brushing off the words absent-mindedly, "who do you think gave me the courage to even think about having a date with her?" satoru responded, his tone filled with exasperation. "on second thought, it's a little weird seeing her hanging around with shoko, utahime, and yuki. don't you think they're far off from each other? in personality?"
suguru hummed softly as an answer. somehow agreeing, but at the same time he feels it's just bound to happens. "opposites attract one another, satoru. can't you see? they balanced each other's character." the man let his eyes roam around the group of friends before adding one more thing, "we're the opposite, if you have yet to noticed."
"nah, i know that from a long ago. it's just a little strange looking at their combination—" satoru's words halted the second he saw you letting out a laugh. it's faint, due to the distance between you two, but he can still catch the joy from your laugh lingering in the air before wrapping his heart in a warm blanket of content. "—hah … she really is a hot chocolate in winter season."
both satoru and suguru sat in silence, then. due to many different reasons.
for the blue-eyed man, it's due to his wish to relish in the warmness you let him savor even from some radius. for suguru, on the other hand, is quiet due to how it just hits him now; satoru attraction towards you is far more than a simple infatuation. the man's adoration, or perhaps love, is clearly transcending even the night sky.
all these days, he assumed it was just a lighthearted crush. an excitement that'll only last for a short time— turns out, he's been assuming wrong. satoru is so deep rooted in your world, and you don't even seem to notice the man. it's comically ironic and endearing all at the same time, how this fact unfolds right before his eyes, once for all.
"you'll be fine. nobody is going to boo you if you get rejected, no one would dare to do so. just walk over to her and pop the question," suguru assured. his hand which was holding the phone now raised to pat the back of his loser of a friend. "with the exception of me."
"oh, shut up." satoru let out a low huff at suguru words. his attention is now stolen by the lecturer's arrival to their class. his fidgeting has stopped, although his gaze still wanders back to you.
satoru gojo can't seem to save himself from repeatedly getting lost in you, and everything that sculpted you into the person you are, truly. it's a habit as natural as breathing, it's a routine as repetitive as spraying perfume all over his body; far too engraved in his every fiber.
in today's design graphic class, you got an assignment to make a chosen product a poster, and it's something you've done more than your fingers managed to keep in track. so, like any other day, you'd type away the information on the matter to your to-do-list.
however, no matter how forcefully you try to shrug it off, there's a sense of uneasiness in today's class that keeps on finding its path towards where you are; it's clinging to every trace of you it may grasp, for a while. at first you assumed it was just another day of feeling too exposed to the world— but, now, you're sure it's something more than that.
you feel as if you're being watched.
to be fair, you always do. as someone who's deeply self-conscious, ignoring the slightest change of an emotion becomes something difficult to find in yourself. which is why ignoring the feeling of something about to happen is one of many things which goes beyond your mind, as you don't exactly have the hold to how your inner-self reacts to it.
it's without doubt, that you're a person who's sensitively aware of your surroundings, yet dull at the same time. which is quite the reason behind why you jolted from your seat, when the six-foot-three man greeted you. the man, satoru gojo, your classmate.
"ah, sorry, i didn't intend on startling you—" he quickly spoke to you, oh so gently, as if he's beyond afraid you might slip away from him. satoru seems to glance past you towards your friend group, before collecting himself and clearing his throat, a few times. "—can i have some of your time?"
oh … um, what?
his question truly catches you off-guard. you found yourself blinking a few times, trying to see whether all of this is a reality or an illusion your mind created to throw you off. and being true to yourself, you wished it's the latter. because oh, you have little to no clue at how you should act nor respond if you're to engage in a conversation with him, from out of the blue. or with anyone, really.
"we can talk here, if that's what you feel most comfortable," satoru assured. the way he attentively considered your space, as well as carefully making a move from the hesitancy at how you drifted afar from the dialog, had your breath choke on the back of your throat. he makes it seems like he senses your inside turmoil, and it's untangling your flawless composure in real-time.
it could be self-conclusion, it could be due to how you view it from your perspective. nonetheless, what has you positive satoru is doing this intentionally, are the matter-of-fact at how he examines you as if you're worth pouring his time for. for someone like you, it was almost overwhelming, truthfully. if he were to do another similar gesture, you're convinced you might unravel here and there.
"um, i— sure …?" your fingers mindlessly find each other and start fidgeting. your pair of eyes satoru loves to dive in and wander to look at anything but him, avoiding eye-contact. he learned by watching you from a mile that when you start jiggling your foot, it means you're a second away from detaching with your surroundings.
satoru pressed his lips shut into a thin line. he's mentally patting himself in the back before popping the question the man has practiced longer than his dribbles, shoots, and everything there is related to basketball. you're making him beyond flustered, greater than any victory might capable do. "can i … be your valentine?" he finally asked.
and uh-oh. if only the man understands how your brain stops functioning, the second his question left in-between his lips. it was unexpected, coming from him. you two barely interact with one another, yet he decided to ask if he can be your valentine? well, each other's valentine, to be precise. still, it has you left frozen in your seat as confusion starts to invade your emotions.
"… me? why me?"
of course, you would feel bewildered. it's unprecedented. and everyone that has the privilege of knowing you is deeply aware, at how at this moment, your mind is flooding with scenarios as to why the popular student athlete is asking you, rather than other people who—in your opinion—suits better to stand by his side.
what if he lands on you due to a dare? or a silly joke? worse, just for fun?
the man didn't let you immerse in those negative thoughts longer than a minute, though. when satoru catches how the sparkles in your eyes fades and your gaze reformed into one of discomfort, alongside ghosts of worse-possibilities-imagine crawling inside, he immediately takes one step closer as if he's trying to show you that he's being genuine. in his own silly, fumbling way.
"i was thinking of giving you a ticket to my match tomorrow, then uh …" the man paused for a beat, his hand squeezed into a fist before resting on the back of his neck as he rubs it nervously. "go … on a date? with me?" he continued, tone lower than he intended to. it, adorably, became a whisper instead of solid words spoken; something that's expected from him, out of all people.
"oh."
satoru fingers went to fiddled with the collar of his shirt, looking at you with gleaming hope. "shoko, utahime, and yuki will be there, too." his gaze shifts away towards the ceiling for a minute, before landing back on you. and it almost, almost, feel as if his blue-sky eyes crashes onto you, from how consuming it holds your stare. "you won't be alone there," he assured.
you blink once. the information is known to you, since they had asked some days ago, on whether you wanted to come and see the basketball match between their school to a long-time rival or not. but, hearing it from satoru's mouth somehow relaxed you, even by a bit. your shoulders slumped as the tension built up now slowly but surely uncoil.
for a beat there, you wonder if he had bewitched you; satoru makes it too easy for you to let your guard down, even if it's only for temporary. although he's carefully breaking down your well-crafted walls, this is the first time ever that someone has the courage to ask you out on a date, which is why you're still unsure on how to act on the matter.
and no, it isn't because you're unattractive. you're as beautiful as your other friends, standing side-by-side with them only has you beaming even more. it's due to how much of a closed-off person you are. it's hard for you to open up and take risks, for what seems out of reach from where you're standing— something people can guess about you, with only one look at your way.
so, it's a little baffling for you to even comprehend why he's asking you in the first place.
but … the way he's paying attention to the little things that matter to you, has the proposal being embraced tenderly by your heart, in your own way. his consideration of those invisible stuff, has your heart warming and open itself without throwing another second, as if his existence is already ingrained to your beating heart.
however, doubt is still lingering in the thin air. you don't know the man enough to say yes at the moment, in this place where a few people may peer about. which is why after a few minutes of silence from you, accompanied by overly repeated assurances in your head, you gave him a response that's not what satoru expected, but isn't exactly unwelcome.
"can i, think about it first …? i'll let you know if i, um, decide to go."
your head is slightly bowed, unable to look at him straight in the eyes as his gaze strikes right through you. satoru's icy-blue eyes are as vibrant as the day outside this classroom— it's bright enough to light up the whole place from how much it resembles an angelic, sunny day. and for you? it might as well be a scorching sun because it shines far too bright, for a girl who rather hides beneath the trees.
"yes, of course! i mean—" the man clears his throat a couple times, cheeks tainted with rosy pink at how his voice went an octave higher from excitement. "… yes, no pressure at all. take as much time as you need. no rushing, no nothing. we will go at your pace."
everyone around that's watching couldn't help but snicker at the view of satoru being an open mess for them to gobble at; it's a rare occurrence to see the proud man reduced to a loverboy who can't get a hold of themselves. and you, whose corner lips tilted upward into the faintest, but heart-warming smile, has satoru losing his composure even more like a yarn being untangled.
"okay, then. are you done, gojo? we girls have a place to go to, if you don't mind." yuki slipped through the conversation between you and the man. she had a good laugh seeing you two interact with one another, just a minute before stepping into the whole scene of whatever is happening among you two, since she can't quite name it yet. it's still a gray area to meddle about.
"oh … yeah, for sure. i have a practice with the team, too, so … uh, see you all tomorrow?" he replied. satoru look over his shoulder at suguru who's waiting for him a few steps back. "suguru is waiting as well, i should probably get going. or really get going. same thing."
his face turned to you again, gaze trailing over you as he tries to utter even a single word. "i'll talk to you later? um, uh, have fun with your friends and take care. you three— whatever," he cast a uninterested look towards the women behind you, before sprinting away while utahime tries to throw him her plastic water bottle.
"hey, give us some respect! be grateful we allowed you to speak with her, you narcissist!"
satoru answer came in the form of a mocking facial expression as he leaves the classroom with suguru following behind, laughing at how the air shifted within a second from warmness to chaotic.
well, truthfully, satoru would take hits from utahime's water bottle any other day if it means he finds the courage to speak with you, and is welcome to breathe your air.
the man has really whisked away his pride of not wanting to look desperate, standing in front of you. the man is too far gone to even care about his pride, after having your gaze locked on him even if it only lasts a minute.
he'll be miserable all his life, for you. unashamedly.
you've been staring at your ceiling for approximately two hours now.
it's predicted, of course. however, you didn't think you would actually ponder about the matter this … intently. you're sure it's due to one reason only: you thought you're going to reject his proposal as easy as a child's play.
now it's a matter that has you contemplating your very existence from how it's taking up the spaces inside your head— worse, it sneaks into the gaps of your ribcage. your whole being is infiltrated by whether you should accept him as your valentine, or drown in this foreign emotions which starts to loom over you.
a part of you, in the corner of your soul no one has managed to touch, is tingling with an excitement you can't quite catch, yet.
you roll over in your bed one more time. with your face buried on the fluffy pillow, you let out a scream louder than you thought you can muster about. for a moment there, your surroundings disintegrate into the night breeze. only you, your inner turmoil, and the plushies of yours exist in the stillness at this time of the day.
turning down satoru would stings a little.
accepting his offer, on the other hand, will tug the frightened side of you.
plus, you've never gone on a date with anyone before. if you screw things up, you understand better than anyone how your ability in mingling with other people would reduce back to zero. and preferably, rationally— rejecting satoru is the better path.
building this courage of interacting with someone else took quite a while, you don't wish for anything to crumble this years of dedication and sanity whisked away. and truthfully, if yuki didn't go out of her way to invite you for lunch, you would've never made a close friend. only casual, talk once in a while type of friendship. the present you is credited to the three women who patiently guide you in becoming a more brave person.
earlier, you've asked them about their opinion on the issue mentioned. and they, ever so supportive, encourage you to accept satoru's heartfelt wish in becoming your valentine. the three close friends of yours said it'll be a nice experience for you— which you somewhat agrees. it's the truth which can't be denied; you'll learn something new if you decided to say yes.
you groaned into the covered white bundle, head lifting slightly from the pillow before your gaze fell to the plushies facing you. a feeling of shame washes you for a beat, your mind imagining scenes of the plushies coming to life and mocking your current state.
"this is no fun," you grumble to the serenity of your room. a hint of blush paint your cheeks. even in the darkness of your safe place, hints of it can be seen with a keen pair of eyes.
should you let him be your valentine?
once again, you stare at the plushies. "… what do you all think? should i—" your voice screeches at the end, while your already tomatoes face now turned into an even vibrant red. “—should i accept him?”
no sounds filled the room, then. besides the sound of your quicken heartbeats that noise starts to form a rhythm. your heart is pounding against the ribcage as its way of showing your inner turmoil with no words spoken to the crackling air. it's the only thing keeping you sane in this moment of uncertainty, as you are still deciding which path you should walk into before the time of this day runs out.
thump-thump.
thump-thump.
thump-thump.
"… he's a nice guy. it won't hurt to give this a chance … right?"
your hand, trembling with suspense, stretches out to grasp your phone rested afar on the night table with a feeling of hesitation. understandably so. yet, amidst all of these new waves of emotions you've never experienced first-hand before, a profound fever of excitement is following from behind. albeit its existence as faint as the soft rustling of your sheets beneath you.
a breathy huff left in-between your lips while your fingers carefully arranged words for satoru to read. "just this one time," you heard yourself whispering.
you: i'll see you tomorrow
you: good luck for your match
23.45 PM
"stop grinning like an idiot," suguru exasperated.
who is the man referring to? well, it's quite obvious who. there's no other soul which can make him rubbing his forehead as a way to soothe the headache, whilst a deep sigh is let free from his mouth like the satoru gojo can.
no, don't get him wrong. the man is thrilled that satoru proposal to you is accepted with open arms. that six-foot-three man efforts didn't go through the drain, so of course suguru is happy on behalf of the man success. after many seconds whisked away of him listening to satoru practicing his lines to the mirror, he is beyond pleased he won't be going through a phase where satoru is whining and moody from being rejected.
only it costs suguru his hearing sense.
as expected, satoru is all smiley and a total bundle of joy from the message you sent his way last night. hell, the man won't stop peering over his phone while engaging himself in a conversation with the other teammates.
it's a once in a lifetime type of scene, if anyone is brave enough to say it out loud. satoru is a proud man. he loves to taunt everyone—in his own way—at how he is the carrier of the team, which in all truthfulness is the reality, and how his head would be held up high all the time is a side of him everyone is more used to. one that they secretly admire, due to every reason he has the ability and is able to prove his words.
for them, it is justified that satoru acts the way he is.
so, the scenery displayed for them is pretty … odd. bizarre would probably be the word most of them used to describe how satoru is acting right now. it is just way freakier than they thought it would be.
the rumor spreads fast like wildfire. whispers of hot, burning revelation that the rising star, student athlete of the university went ahead of his way to carve a path to your heart is a sensation people absolutely went feral for. it's not everyday they got to see the man make a first move, no. it's a rare occurrence.
most of the time, satoru would receive tons of attention from students across the university, from a variety of majors. whenever satoru has a match, or just practice actually, oceans of human gather to cheers the man on with beverages or snacks in hand to further riled satoru into the "zone". of course they came and gave their support to other athlete on the team— after all, the university basketball team is packed with gorgeous men.
there's suguru geto, the team's small forward who people say is more popular with the girls than satoru. ryomen sukuna, point forward of the team who somehow bestowed upon the title as, 'mr. steal your girl'. and oh, right, choso kamo, the shooting guard is quite well-known among the girls for his awkward, yet gentle personality as well.
everyone has their own charms, for sure. but satoru gojo's appeal is by far the only one who attained even the bits of all souls love. he's the type of man that has someone wanting to build a family with, a fan of the man says. whether it's an opinion or a matter=of-fact buzz from people around him is still undecided. all that matters is that the satoru gojo is loved by many kinds of people.
back to the main topic.
you, who's able to tear down satoru's wall became a huge topic overnight. apparently someone in the same class as you recorded the whole exchange between you and satoru, before posting it on the internet for people to see. it alarms satoru last night— because for all he understand, you aren't that comfortable with the whole 'turned-into-a-huge-deal' matter. he learned of the fact from shoko, ever the so big-hearted.
he was shaking in his boots at the thought that you might despise him for bringing in that much attention to you, something you didn't ask for. however, when satoru frantically messaged you this morning like a kid throwing a rampage, you replied with something that's very you and, well, logical. he should've never underestimated you and he ought to learn for the better.
you: it's alright
you: you're a well-known person, it's bound to happen. i already prepared myself for this possibility
you: i'm fine, no need to worry
07.30 AM
satoru was half pleased knowing you're doing well and half pissed you told him, "no need to worry." as if there's a single fiber circulating in him with a drop of nonchalance in it. the man is too far gone for you, and you have yet to notice the truth is a trait of yours that's both endearing and maddening.
"gojo!"
the wide-grinning man startled. the sudden yell of his name causes his phone to slip from his hand slightly, and god, satoru let out a roaring scream due to the action. "hey! be mindful, can you?" his eyes narrow at sukuna, before sighing out of exasperation. when, truly, it should be his teammates who're annoyed. not the other way around.
"are you fucking with me? the match is about to start, idiot—" sukuna was just taking one step closer near satoru before stopped by choso's voice. "the coach is waiting."
and ever the self-centered man he is, satoru's eyebrows lifted with his chest puffed in a mannerism of a man overly confident enough to be tripped by himself in near future. everyone in the room can guarantee it. "why didn't anyone tell me since, i don't know, a minute ago?"
dear god … if they're not a second away from the match, sukuna would've strangled him.
"satoru, you're the one who's at fault," suguru commented. the way he gazes at satoru makes it seem as if being in a conversation with that idiotic blue-eyed man reduces his life span. suguru pinched the bridge of her nose. "just … put down your phone and let's went ahead to the court."
"oh, right." satoru placed his phone down, then. the man stood up from where he was sitting, the stupid grin still in-tact to his face. "i have someone to impress in the crowd, gotta make sure i look presentable. let's win this match, my wing men."
satoru threaded a hand through his white locks as he walked out of the locker room, leaving behind his other teammates as if he didn't just utter the most disgusting words arranged to ever be spoken into the day breeze.
"i ought to strangle him," sukuna whispers, eyes twitching out of agitation.
it's currently the second half of the game.
and as expected, your university team is leading. truly a powerhouse in flesh, you heard someone muttering about. well, in all fairness, the basketball team consists of athletes that have been known for their immense talent. each of the players already built up a reputation among those who loves basketball— one which is recognized by anyone who has watched them.
you sat alongside the three women who, excitedly, helped you prepare for today's occasion. shoko, utahime, and yuki all went to your place early in the morning for whatever reason they have for themselves. it was a chaotic mess of you being dressed up by them. even shoko who doesn't talk much fusses over you. for a moment there, you became a doll for them to prettify.
not a single word of protest left in-between your pouty lips that greets them this morning, which truly surprised both them and yourself. it caught them off guard as they expected you to, at the very least, wished for them to not extensively meddle about the whole ordeal. you've always been a person who's adamant of one personal space.
so, when you opened the door with puckered lips that screamed hassled and flustered, the three of your friends couldn't help but feel as if they just took a step into the other side of your world. and funny enough, when they were doing mix and match with your clothes utahime mumbled something along the lines of, "you're way … too compliant right now. it's quite odd to look at." and that got shoko's and yuki's attention.
utahime isn't wrong, of course. the sight of you letting them do whatever they desire with fashioning you is one of those rare moments where you would let down your guard, then let them roam freely as they start to dive deeper into what makes you the person you are. undoubtedly, the time when you unlatch the key to the door of your world is their favorite shared memories with you.
"gojo is the one who scored the most, huh?" utahime hummed. she takes a slow sip to her soda in a cup, while her free hand focuses on the screen of her phone— observing the basketball match on live-stream for a better view and gripping on how the game is unfolding down there.
you've never been to a basketball or any sports event whatsoever in your life. since for the longest time, whenever someone asked you to come watch these tournaments, you would politely turned them down. being in a crowded place where people are either screaming, yelling, or standing and throwing curses at one team is far from your ideal life. it's beyond the comfort zone you've keep secured round the clock.
tainting it with these chaotic athletic events would only bring you an unnecessary headache. dealing with the aftermath is above and beyond fun. for you, it's exceptionally draining. the matter discussed takes way too much space and time from your life. so, logically, you'd rather avoid it, choosing the warmness of your room than the buzzing arena.
if isn't due to satoru's request, you would be whisking away your time on the couch; snuggle up beneath the blanket, tv on display as you lose yourself in your comfort show world, accompanied by the snacks in your lap that change daily on rotation.
an amused snickers left yuki's mouth at utahime's in actuality words. "i bet he's trying harder than usual to impress our pretty baby here," she chatted, her gaze drift towards your way for a beat, then back onto the match a few distance underneath where they're sitting on the bleachers. "he has always been a good player, after all. just probably feels he need to leave an impression to her."
you blushed at her words. suddenly your mind decides to rewind back to yesterday's event when satoru approaches you. that gesture of his alone has colored you into a ripe tomato— yuki's observation on satoru right now is a little unappreciated, since it has you avoid eye-contact with her. whether it's the truth or not.
"he definitely is," shoko mumbled. her fingers rolled around the stick of lollipop she has, before popping them back in her mouth. the brown-haired woman peered at satoru, head tilted to the side as she took in the sight of the man who dribbled past the opponent in front of him. "gojo eyes keep searching the bleachers," she added.
"oh? i didn't notice," yuki responded. as she folded her hands in her lap, the corners of her mouth quirked up when she caught satoru's act that shoko just mentioned. "ah, yeah. he just did it."
it is so obvious for anyone who knows of you and satoru history, one which just starts writing itself, that the reason behind satoru's frequent survey at the bleachers is because he's searching for you; trying to catch the pair of eyes he would love to have a glimpse at right now, in the middle of the game as a way to boost his energy.
the man danced around the court, trying to avoid the challengers who were trying to steal his ball by passing it to another teammate of his. satoru ran fast towards the basket of the opposite team, pivoting his body around to get a hold of the thrown ball headed his way. and when the ball was in his hand, he went his way to do a side-step jump shot which has the team make a basket, earning two points.
"they already secured the victory." utahime turns off her phone after swiping close the live-stream page. she leaned back in her chair, eyes gleamed with astonish at how easy the student athletes paved their way to triumph.
"of course. we're a powerhouse for a reason," yuki said.
you chuckled softly at yuki's words. it's a statement in its own way. the sentence yuki just spoke into the air with dusts of success can be translated as in how glory always trails behind the student athletes steps, securing them their win. of course, all of it is also due to their efforts and focus on aiming for one thing only; accomplishment.
“time remaining is only a minute on the clock,” you mumble, threading a hand to your soft locks.
no one truly needs to pay attention to the seconds that went away, as the winner is already determined, it's true. however, everyone can't help but follow how these student athletes are in their 'zone', and lost in their own world— it's a sight to behold.
and as time runs for their life, disappearing and emerging more with the world, your university athletes keep on passing the ball to another. because even though they've secured their spot to bring home success, the love of the sport keeps them aflame.
shouting from the bleachers roar throughout the arena, everyone is burning hot watching these players fighting for their dignity and pride as an athlete. all with only seconds left, ticking on the clock.
“pass the ball!? oh my god, why did geto hog the ball for too long?!” yuki screams, far too loud. she pointed at suguru who seems like he catches on yuki's words, since he glares her way. "why is he staring? focus on the game!"
“oooh … that doesn't look nice," utahime grimaces at the sight of a player tripping over themselves.
your fingers fiddled with one another, somehow feeling a little stressed at the sight of how down in the arena, everyone is becoming more aggressive. “oh, sukuna lost the ball."
“why didn't he pass it to gojo?! jeez, did something happen in the locker room?!”
“get it, get it, get it— yes, good pass! oh, wow, choso get the ball again! gotta love that man.”
"athletes really are scary," shoko muttered. her hazy pair of eyes blinked, taking in the scenery at how this heated last seconds has everyone standing up. with her lollipop in hand, she gestured at the crowds using the candy's stick. "would you look at that ... most of them root for our team. they have good taste."
as the time on the clock tick-tocking closer to one, whenever a player has the ball on their hand, they would pass the ball to their teammates hastily in order to keep the opponents from making a basket.
five.
"gojo, get that stupid ball!"
four.
"sheesh, did you see how sukuna dodged that player in number six? he's nasty."
three.
"in all realness, the winner is already set. why are we screaming our lungs off?"
two.
"choso is saving the day once again, huh? that man singlehandedly saved the team by staying calculative."
one.
a buzzing sound echoes all over the arena, then. it echoes in a high-pitched noise, signaling the end of today's game as it marks the final score when the clock hits one. each of the athletes who were running across the court, trying to steal the ball from one another, has now stopped in their tracks.
everyone standing on the "battleground" looked over at the scoreboard as they tried to catch their breaths after the intense game— while the winner relishes in their team victory, the losing finalist can only let out a defeated sigh.
satoru gojo, on the other hand, didn't just win a match alongside his teammates on this valentine's day. because in a distance away from where he was standing, when his gaze finally set on the pair of eyes he has been searching for the entire game, the man can feel how his heart skips a beat at the sight of you.
you, who stand at the bleachers among countless other supporters with a small, delighted smile painted on your lips has satoru tripping over himself. with your hands that are far smaller than his, you clapped throughout the whole session of winner announcement and roars of blaring scream.
and truly, the sight of you is all what matters. since from the likes of it, the rising star has just earned a victory right through the door of your heart.
a tiramisu cafe.
satoru brings you to a cafe, specialized in making tiramisu.
"i heard you like tiramisu," he whisper. the man's warmth breathing kisses your skin, ever so sweetly, as he brings his lips close to your ear. one of his hand hold onto the sleeve of your cardigan, gently tugging you closer. "shoko was the one who told me, in case you wanted to know."
you blink a few times, nodding in a slight flustered demeanor. shoko being the one to revealed that side of you to satoru is quite expected, considering how she was the one who has been telling satoru to just go for you and ask to be your valentine.
after the celebration of their university team's success ended, satoru immediately rushes off to wash clean the sweat that lingers to his skin from his body. the man had to make sure he was prepared for his date with you. satoru had one thing in mind when he was choosing his clothes; it has to be a comfortable, yet striking outfit that doesn't scream desperate for compliments.
the man cleared off his throat, "… so, uh, are you— what flavor are you, um, planning on choosing?"satoru takes a step right when the last word left his mouth, creating a distance between you two shortly after realizing he had been too close, and meddling in your personal space.
huft .. get a hold of yourself, satoru chant repeatedly inside.
you let out a soft, low chuckle at his act. his consideration of what you prefer and how it impacts you keeps turning into a mess of a red carnation, as you're still not used to the gesture. it's beyond appreciated by you, though, whenever someone makes sure you're feeling safe and comfortable being around them. always.
"i think i'm going to choose strawberry cheesecake … i never had that one," you replied to him. the two of you move forward after another customer finishes ordering with satoru hand still holding onto your cardigan.
at your answer, satoru nodded. he made a mental note of the flavor to make sure he didn't mess up. a precaution. "okay, i got you."
when the customer standing before them walk away after paying, satoru is in front of the cashier in an instant. he repeated the name of what you wanted and another flavor for himself. of course, as the thoughtful man he is, satoru didn't forget to order a mineral water in case your throat gets itchy in need of hydration. it's what sweet does to you.
both of you settled on a table in the corner of the cafe. it was satoru who chose the spot, taking in deliberation to how the tables are packed with people in the center. you are never that fond of attention, after all.
the order he placed came in less than no time. well, it is tiramisu that has been prepared and chilled. it's not surprising how people come in, taste their dessert, and leave not that long after they finish bit by bit of their tiramisu. this cafe isn't one that is suited for hanging out too long, is what you can only assume.
"how's … your tiramisu?" you started off the conversation, after a few minutes of silence. and did it catch satoru off guard. he was planning on asking you the exact same question after trying his tiramisu. not a single fiber in his was prepared for you to be the one speaking first.
clearing his throat, satoru flashes a smile towards your way. "the matcha taste in this isn't that strong, though i think it's still good." with his eyebrows, the man gestured to your tiramisu plated in front of you, "how's yours? is it to your liking?"
you nodded slightly, heartbeat racing rapidly at the smile laced upon his lips. "um, yeah … i can tell they use a quality cream cheese," you paused for a minute, glancing away for a second as another wave of embarrassment washes over you from how intently he's watching you. "the strawberries taste premium, too. it's pretty sweet," you continued.
"really? well, i suppose from how red and juice the strawberries look, it has to be premium." he let out a soft humming, nodding his head as he inspected your cheesecake. "does it lean more on tiramisu or cheesecake, texture wise?"
"i've never eaten this variant before, so i can't really compare this to other, uh … store? but this one is more on the cheesecake side. it's soft and cheesy like?" your head tilted slightly, lashes batted as you look straight to his pair of cerulean eyes.
satoru blink a few times. the way your lashes fluttered as you try to explain your view on how the tiramisu taste got his brain short-circuiting. the man's brows knitted together as he tried to muster up a reply. "oh. that's— that's cool."
and man, did the way he answered bummed him.
maybe it's due to how you're always closed-off, that you developed a trait of being an observant person. growing up, you can easily tell from people mannerisms about what they're feeling at a certain moment. you've always been perceptive, right into other people soul. and it is pretty clear to see that satoru is disappointed at his reply to you.
which is totally understandable, from your side. ever since the beginning—when he proposed the idea of being your valentine—although the man is confident in his shoes, he has the sparkles of someone that wanted to impress his crush. or maybe you read too many romance stories.
either way, satoru demeanor truly screams one that wished for you to have a great day. so, with all the courage you have in you, you try to brighten up his mood.
"… i have so much fun today," you muttered. your gaze drifted anywhere but him for a beat there, as the whole room suddenly feels too hot for your liking. "thank you for the ticket, um, for the basketball match, as well as this cafe … date."
oh, that has satoru's hearts bursting with adoration. it did a back-flip inside his ribcage, causing the man to tremble slightly for a minute, before blinking his way through to keep himself from doing an actual routine inside the cafe. "i— i, it's good. i mean, you know, that you enjoyed today …"
the two flustered mess of a person stayed silent, then. it's one that's serene and has them filled with content. and even though they're not saying anything else to each other, since they decided that the floor or wall is far better than looking at one another, they both understand the air surrounding them has shifted into something more.
it seems everything that has happened today left a certain impact on both of you. and you're sure that your quicken heartbeat, yet toasty in a way, is trying to tell that today's event overflowed the space in-between your ribcage with a sense of belonging. way different than what one might feel aimed at a friend.
"… you did great at today's game. i'll make sure to watch more. in the future."
may every deities that are listening to the sentence left your lips help the man. because satoru truly can't handle another sweet nothing to be uttered from you, for him and only him to hear.
god, you really have him agreeing that good love feels as if its butterflies suffocating one side. it is beyond him that you're sitting close to him. satoru really shouldn't be allowed to be near you, at all. breathing the same air as you should, genuinely, be forbidden for his own sake. the man is serious, on all certain levels.
well, the words arranged you just let free from your lips conclude one more thing for satoru; he really just won a match and strike opened the door to your heart in a single day.
lucky bastard, he is. no one can argue with that, he's sure of it.
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゛★ jock ! satoru gojo pretends to be your boyfriend.
oneshot .ᐟ ⋆ 6k words ⋆ highschool 12th year au ⋆ nerd!reader ⋆ childhood friends to lovers ⋆ fake dating ⋆ rugby player!satoru ⋆ not slow burn ⋆ art by ?
Third period calculus at Tokyo Metropolitan High School was usually a nightmare. You were nose-deep in your notebook, scribbling down the last of the derivative problems Mr. Tanaka had thrown up on the board, your brain already three steps ahead of his explanation, as per usual. It was your happy place. The scrape of your pencil, the neat rows of numbers, the satisfying click of the mechanical pencil. For a nerd like yourself, this was better than any Friday night party.
The problem was, you couldn't seem to get a moment of it in peace anymore.
A familiar shadow fell over your desk, blocking the light from the window. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Your shoulders tensed, your grip on the pencil tightening just a bit. You knew that shadow. You had a damn Pavlovian response to its appearance now, a mix of annoyance and creeping dread.
"Hey, you," the voice was a low, try-hard baritone that was meant to sound smooth and instead just came off as greasy. "You busy tonight?"
You forced yourself to look up, a practiced, polite smile plastered on your face. Kenji Sato. He was… objectively decent-looking, you supposed. He played soccer and had that whole ‘tousled hair and permanent smirk’ thing going on. But he was also terribly relentless, painfully dense, and had zero concept of the word ‘no.’
"Just studying, Kenji. Got a big test next week," you said, your tone flat, hoping the monotone would convey your complete and utter lack of interest in whatever he had to say.
"Forget studying," he said, leaning a little too close for comfort, his cologne practically triggering a chemical warfare alert in your sinuses. "I was thinking we could grab some ramen. My treat. You’ve been working so hard, you gotta relax sometime."
"Yeah, I relax," you said, turning back to your notebook, hoping he’d take the hint and vanish like a bad smell. "By studying."
He laughed, but it was a very hollow sound. He wasn’t laughing with you, he was laughing at your rejection, which he apparently found oh so amusing. "Come on, don’t be like that. Just one night. You won’t regret it." He reached out and put his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing a circular, overly familiar pattern on your collarbone. You fought the urge to flinch away. It was a gesture that was meant to be intimate, but felt like a violation. A greasy and unwanted violation.
"I said I’m busy, Kenji." Your voice was sharper this time, a little edge of steel creeping in that you foolishly hoped would deter him. The pencil in your hand was now a weapon you were very tempted to jab into his hand. "Maybe another time."
His smile faltered for a second before snapping back into place. "I’ll hold you to that," he said, giving your shoulder a squeeze that lasted a a second too long before finally, mercifully, walking away.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The sheer effort of just existing in his vicinity was exhausting. It was like a low-grade fever you couldn't shake. This had been going on for weeks now. It started with a simple "hello" in the hall. Then it was sitting next to you in the library. Then it was finding your number from the class group chat and sending you… you shuddered… "good morning" texts that were always followed by question marks when you ignored them. And now it was this. The full-court press.
You were a master of deflection, but Kenji Sato was like a barnacle. A really persistent,shitty cologne-drenched barnacle.
Later, at lunch, you sat with your small group of friends in the courtyard, trying to decompress after that borderline stalker-y interaction. The sun was out, and a cool breeze was the only thing that made the whole experience of high school bearable. You were picking at your bento, the appetite you'd had earlier completely gone.
"Oh, he’s back at it again?" Shoko asked, not even looking up from her phone. She had a sixth sense for your suffering. "Sato’s been circling you like a vulture all day. Did he corner you in calc like last week?"
"Yeah," you groaned, letting your head thunk down onto the cool metal table. "He asked me out for ramen. Again."
"For the eleventh time this month?" your other friend, a guy named suguru, mumbled through a mouthful of rice. "That guy’s got a one-track mind. And it’s a very, very short track."
Shoko finally looked up from her phone, her expression a mix of pity and exasperation. "You need to get rid of him."
"I've tried!" you exclaimed, lifting your head and throwing your hands up. "I've said no. I've said maybe another time. I've said I'm busy. I've even tried ignoring him and pretending I'm a statue. He doesn't get it."
"You need to make it so he cannot get it. Shut that door, lock it, and burn it," Shoko said, pointing a chopstick at you for emphasis.
"How, Shoko? Do you want me to fake my own death? Change my nameand flee the country?"
"No," she said, a slow, mischievous smile spreading across her face. "You need a bigger threat. A guy he’s actually afraid of."
You frowned, not following. "Who would he be afraid of? He's on the soccer team. He's got his own clique of mouth-breathers. He's not scared of anyone."
Shoko’s smile widened. It was a knowing smile, the kind that made you instantly suspicious. "There is one person," she said, enunciating each word slowly, as if revealing some grand secret she knows you won't like. "One guy who even the soccer team steers clear of. One guy who could look at Kenji Sato and make him soil his little sport shorts."
You felt your stomach do a weird little flip-flop. You knew exactly who she was talking about now. There was only one person who fit that bill at Tokyo Metropolitan. "Are you insane? No. Absolutely not."
"Oh, come on!" Shoko insisted. "It’s perfect! He's the best player on the rugby team, he’s huge, he's cocky, he's terrifying on the field, and he’s got that whole... aura of invincibility thing going on. If Sato thinks you're with Satoru, he'll back off immediately."
You shook your head vehemently. "Shoko, I can't. We haven’t been friends like that for years. We barely talk. It would be so… awkward. Not to mention, desperate."
It was true. Satoru Gojo and you had a history that pre-dated your ability to form complete sentences. Your parents were best friends from college, which meant you two were forced together for playdates, birthday parties, and family vacations from the time you were both in diapers. You’d shared a kiddie pool, fought over toys, and he'd been the one to hold your hand when you got your first set of shots at the doctor’s office. He’d been a loud, obnoxious, supernova of a kid, and you were the quieter, more studious little girl who followed him around.
You were his sidekick. He was your hero. You’d build pillow forts, have epic Nerf gun battles, and he’d always, always defend you when the older kids at the park were being mean. It was a given. You were his, and he was yours.
Then high school happened.
It was like a switch flipped. He hit a growth spurt that turned him into a towering, broad-shouldered titan, his scruffy hair turned into something more artfully disheveled. He joined the rugby team and became an instant star. His natural charisma, which had always been part of his charm, was now honed to a point, making him the undisputed king of the social scene. His laughter echoed across the hallways, and his feet were constantly surrounded by a flock of admirers, a kaleidoscope of cheerleaders, and other jocks.
And you… well, you found your own tribe. You discovered that the peace` of the library was far more appealing than the noise of a party. You found that academic achievement was a high that didn't need a hangover. You threw yourself into your studies, seeking the clear-cut approval of a perfect score on a test. You were the top of the class, the one teachers loved, the one everyone came to for notes and tried to bribe for answers. The "nerd," a label you owned with a weird sense of pride.
The drift wasn't a big fight or some dramatic falling out. It was a thousand small things. He’d get swallowed by his crowd after school, leaving you to walk home alone. The inside jokes started to feel dated, never landing the same way they used to. You’d see him at a mutual friend’s party, and he’d be surrounded, his eyes scanning the room but never stopping on you. A casual "hey" in the hallway replaced the goofy nicknames and comfortable chatter you used to share since you were kids.
He'd stopped holding your hand. And you didn't know when or how to ask for it back. So you just… didn't.
"We used to be close," you admitted, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. "But that feels like a ages ago."
"Exactly!" Shoko leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "That's what makes it so perfect. It’s the most believable lie. No one will question it because you actually did have this entire life together. It’s just rekindling a childhood friendship, right? With some... fake benefits."
Suguru, who had been quietfor the last few minutes, finally chimed in. "She does have a point, you know. It's a solid plan. Sato's a coward. He won't go up against a guy who can literally snap him in half with his legs."
The mental image of Satoru’s long, powerful legs—which, okay, you may or may not have noticed on occasion—doing that to Kenji was... not unpleasant. You bit your lip, warring with yourself. A huge part of you recoiled at the thought. You’d built your whole identity around being self-sufficient. You were the one who had her life together. You didn't run to anyone for help, least of all a guy you’d been trying so hard to forget you had any feelings for at all.
But Kenji wasn't going away. He was a persistent tick you couldn't shake off. And the thought of him putting his hand on your shoulder, rubbing that same gross circular pattern... it made your skin crawl.
"No," you said firmly, shaking your head again. "I'll just tell him I'm... dating someone from another school or something."
"Yeah right. I don't think Sato is going to care about a faceless guy," Shoko countered with a pfft and a snort. "He needs to see a face. A familiar face. A face he knows could absolutely destroy him."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and you were grateful for the well needed interruption. But the seed had already been planted by the very evil Shoko. As you gathered your things and walked to your next class, the idea gnawed at you, a persistent little demon whispering in your ear. It was a terrible idea. It was pathetic. It was using him.
But what other option did you have?
Over the next couple of days, the situation with Kenji escalated. He started showing up at your locker. He’d wait for you after your last class, trying to walk you to your bus stop. He even turned up at the library once, the most sacred of your spaces, and sat down right across from you, asking if you needed help with your "homework" while his eyes kept wandering down to your chest. It was the final straw. You were officially at your breaking point.
The fear was starting to replace annoyance. It wasn't just annoying anymore; it was becoming... unsettling. He didn’t take a hint; he took your rejection as some kind of challenge.
And so, with a heavy heart and a churning stomach, you decided that maybe, just maybe, you needed to swallow your pride and face the awkwardness of talking to Satoru.
The next day, you knew exactly where to find him. After school, the rugby team had practice on the far field. You’d seen them from the library window countless times, a blur of motion and shouts.
You’d never walked down there before.
Your heart was hammering against your ribs as you pushed through the gate and walked towards the practice field. It felt like you were straying into enemy territory. The air was thick with the smell of grass, sweat, and... a shitload of testosterone. It was a world away from the sterile halls of your academic life. The players were a collection of humanified giants, grunting and slamming into each other with a ferocity that was both terrifying and weirdly... mesmerizing.
And in the center of it all, like a diamond in a pile of... well, large, sweaty rocks, was Satoru.
He was wearing a black jersey that was plastered to his body with sweat, and his white hair was even more of a disaster than usual. He was in the middle of a play, and he was moving with an unnatural fluidity for a guy his size. He dodged one tackler with a laugh, feigned another, and then plowed through a third, sending him flying back with a casual shove. The whistle blew, and he straightened up, grinning, that usual cocky, self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face.
He looked… in his element. Powerful. Unstoppable. It was a far cry from the small, scruffy kid you used to share snacks and toys with.
You hovered by the fence, suddenly feeling incredibly small and out of place. A couple of the guys on the sidelines noticed you. One of them, a big, burly guy with a shaved head, gave you a lecherous wink. You looked away, your cheeks burning. Great. This was already a disaster. You considered leaving but then Kenji's face flashed like an unwanted intruder and you dug your heels into the ground with a sigh.
The coach finally blew his whistle, signaling the end of practice. The players started to disperse, some heading for the water coolers, others collapsing onto the grass. You scanned the field for Satoru, and found him near the center, chatting and laughing with a couple of his teammates. He was the sun in this solar system, everyone drawn to his gravitational pull. Just as you were gathering the courage to approach him, a familiar, oily voice spoke up right next to you.
"Well, well, look who it is," Kenji said. He was leaning against the fence, a smug grin on his face. "Didn't know you liked the rugby boys. I'm a soccer man myself. More finesse."
Your blood ran cold. Of all the times. Of all the places. "I'm just passing through, Kenji," you said, your voice tight. "You should go."
"Passing through?" he echoed with a scoff, stepping closer. "Right. You know what, I've been patient with you, but it's getting a little old. I'm not taking no for an answer anymore. You're coming with me for dinner tonight. End of story."
There it was. The mask of casual flirtation had slipped, revealing something more entitled and aggressive underneath.
"Get lost, Kenji," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts.
"Or what?" he taunted, stepping closer. "You gonna call your dad on me?" He reached out again, his hand about to land on your shoulder, and you saw that same smug, patronizing look in his eyes.
That's when the shadows changed. You didn't even see him coming. One second, it was just you and Kenji and the dying afternoon sun. The next, a tall, broad-shouldered figure had materialized right beside you, moving with a surprising silence for someone his size.
"Hey, Sato," Satoru's voice was a lazy drawl, but there was something dangerous humming underneath it. "Problem here?"
Kenji's hand dropped like he’d seen a ghost. All the color drained from his face. He looked up at Satoru, who was at least a head taller and twice as wide, and his bravado vanished instantly. "Gojo. Hey, man. No problem. Just talking to her."
"Really? Because it looked like she was telling you to get lost. And you weren't listening." Satoru's tone was still casual, but his pale blue eyes, hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses, were fixed on Kenji with a cold and unwavering intensity. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey. A predator who was very, very unamused.
"I was just... we're friends," Kenji stammered. "Just having a chat."
"Doesn't look like she wants to chat," Satoru said, his voice dropping a notch. He took a half-step forward, and Kenji practically flinched. "So why don't you go find someone who does?"
Kenji looked between you and Satoru, his brain clearly short-circuiting. He mumbled something unintelligible, and without another word, he turned and practically scurried away with his tail tucked in between his legs, disappearing back towards the school building.
The tension that had been coiling in your shoulders for weeks finally, mercifully, released. You let out a shaky breath you didn't even know you were holding.
"Wow," Satoru chuckled, turning to look at you. The intimidation was gone, replaced by that familiar, infuriatingly smug grin. "That guy is a total loser. Couldn't even take a hint. And he calls himself a soccer player? He gets tackled by a stiff breeze. Pathetic."
You blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. "You... you made him leave."
"Uh, yeah. That was kinda' the idea," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I was trying to be all mysterious and cool by the fence, waiting for the right moment to jump in. But then he was going to touch you, and I got a little impatient." He shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that was anything but. "Sooo. What's up? You never come down here. Did you finally decide to take an interest in my incredible athleticism? Or did you just want to see me in my element? I know it's a lot to take in. The sheer magnitude of my greatness."
The urge to smack that stupid, perfect grin off his face warred with the sudden, embarrassing warmth spreading through your chest. Here he was, years of silence between you, and he was acting like no time had passed at all. The audacity.
"I need to talk to you," you managed, ignoring his questions. "About something serious."
His grin faded a little, replaced by a flicker of genuine curiosity. "Uh oh. That sounds ominous. You gonna tell me you're transferring to a rival school? Because I'm gonna be real honest with you, the science club at the school down the road is a bunch of posers."
"No, it's about... well, it's about Kenji," you said, your courage threatening to abandon you now that he was actually in front of you. "He's been bothering me. A lot. For weeks. He won't leave me alone, and I've tried everything."
"Ah, I see," Satoru said, nodding slowly. He looked over towards the direction Kenji had disappeared. "He's got a crush on the top of the class. I guess the guy's got taste, even if he's got zero game. Or brain cells. Or social skills. Or any skills, really."
"It's not a crush, Satoru, it's... practically harassment at this point," you corrected him, your voice sharp. "He won't stop asking me out. He shows up everywhere. Touches me whenever he gets the chance to like some perv."
Satoru’s whole demeanor shifted. The joking smirk vanished completely, and his face hardened a little. That old protectiveness he always harbored towards you resurfacing even after all this time. "He touched you?"
"It doesn't matter," you said quickly, feeling embarrassed by the admission. "The point is, I need your help."
"With what?"
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the humiliation. "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."
The silence that followed was deafening. Satoru just stared at you, his mouth slightly agape, his sunglasses having slipped down his nose so you could see his brilliant blue eyes—wide with shock. Then, a slow, incredulous smirk began to spread across his face.
"Come again?" he said, his voice pitching high with amusement as he leaned down a bit to level with you. "Did the top of the class just ask me to be her fake boyfriend?"
Your cheeks were on fire. "I knew this was a bad idea," you mumbled, turning to leave. "Forget I said anything. I should've just... gone to the principal or something."
"Hey, hey, heyyy!" He reached out and grabbed your wrist, his grip surprisingly gentle. "Hold on. I didn't say no. I just need a second to process the sheer audacity of this. You came to me. For this. The guy you’ve been ignoring for like, two years."
"I haven't been ignoring you," you lied, your voice defensive. "You've been busy. With your... rugby and your... followers."
His smile was back in full force. "Yeah, but you know, I'd always have time for you. You just never asked." He let go of your wrist and put his hands on his hips, striking a pose. "Okay. Explain. I need all the details."
You took another deep breath, and you told him everything. You told him about the texts, the library visits, the parking lot ambushes, the way he’d started making you feel uncomfortable and on edge. You told him about Shoko’s idea, and how desperate you were. You even told him that you’d only come to him as a last resort, which made his grin widen even further, if that was possible.
"Wow," he said when you finished. "So, let me get this straight. I'm basically your knight in shining armor. The one man who can make that loser squirm just by existing. The savior of the damsel in distress." He sighed theatrically, putting a hand over his heart. "It's a heavy burden, you know. Being this universally sought after."
"Are you going to help me or not?" you asked, your patience at its end.
"Of course I'm gonna help you," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't? Plus, this is going to be hilarious." He clapped his hands together. "Okay! We need to establish some ground rules for this whole fake-dating thing."
"Ground rules?" you echoed, confused.
"Yeah, obviously! This isn't just a lark. This is a serious operation. A strategic deception. We gotta be convincing. You think I got to the top of the rugby team by winging it? No. I had a plan. This is a plan, albeit a slightly more ridiculous one. Step one, we need to make our debut as a couple. The first official sighting. It has to be spectacular. We have to give the whole school a collective coronary."
You groaned, already regretting this. "Satoru..."
"Step two," he continued, ignoring you completely. "We need to establish our backstory. Everyone already knows we were childhood friends. We can just say that we reconnected and realized we've been in love with each other this whole time." He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. "Which is true, right? Deep down, you've always known you were secretly in love with me."
"In your dreams," you shot back, unable to help the small smile that tugged at your lips and the flush on your face.
"My dreams are excellent, thank you," he said easily. "Step three, we gotta sell it. That means we gotta act like a real couple in public. Hand-holding, the occasional kiss on the cheek, maybe a little bit of PDA. You okay with that?" He gave you a look that was half-challenge, half-genuine curiosity.
You swallowed. "I guess so. If it's just to get him off my back."
"Great! Oh, this is gonna be so fun," he said, bouncing on his heels. He was like an overgrown puppy, all energy and enthusiasm. "Okay, first things first. I'm walking you home. Starting tonight. Gotta establish the routine. And you, my dear, are gonna have to get used to my company all over again."
As you walked beside him, leaving the rugby field behind, it felt surreal. The silence that had stretched between you for years was filled with Satoru's non-stop chatter. He told you about a ridiculous play that happened in practice, about the terrible food in the cafeteria, and about the new girl in his English class who kept trying to get his number. It was as if he'd been waiting for this, just a chance to talk to you.
"You know," he said, as you reached your front gate. "I thought about you. A lot."
You stopped, looking up at him. The evening sun was hitting his white hair, making it look like spun gold. "You did?"
"Yeah," he said, a little of the cocky bravado fading. "We used to be... you know. We were it. And then... things got weird. I got caught up in my own stuff. I just figured you were busy. With your books and your genius brain."
"Same," you admitted quietly. "I thought you didn't want to be friends with a nerd anymore."
"Don't be dumb," he said, flicking your forehead lightly. "You were the coolest nerd I ever knew." He smiled, and for a moment, it was just like old times. Just Satoru and you. "So. New plan. From now on, we're attached at the hip. I'll meet you at your locker in the morning. We'll walk to class together."
"And what if people ask questions?" you asked.
He flashed you a grin that was pure, unadulterated mischief. "Let them. More fun that way."
The next day, you walked into school bracing for the unknown. You had just opened your locker when a familiar presence appeared behind you. You didn't have to turn around. You could feel the shift in the air. The chatter in the hallway seemed to get slightly louder, a few people pointing and whispering. Inevitable when you're involved with the most sought after guy at school.
"Good morning, beautiful," Satoru's voice was a warm purr in your ear. He leaned over you, his chest practically against your back, and reached a long arm around you to rest his hand on the locker door above your head. It was a classic "caging in" move, but it didn't feel threatening. It felt protective. And it made your heart do a weird little skip.
"Morning, Satoru," you said, trying your best to sound casual.
"Couldn't wait to see you," he said, his voice loud enough for the whole hall to hear. "Did you sleep well? Dream about me, hmm?"
A few girls nearby giggled, and you felt your cheeks flush. "You wish," you muttered, biting back a smile.
He laughed, and then his voice dropped again, just for you. "He's watching. Straight ahead, by the drinking fountain."
You glanced up and saw Kenji. He was frozen, a look of pure disbelief on his face. He was staring at the two of you, his eyes wide. There was also a look of undeniable jealousy.
Satoru took the opportunity to up the ante. He straightened up, but instead of moving away, he bent down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to your temple. It was fleeting, barely a whisper of contact, but it sent a jolt through your entire system. For a second, the world went quiet. You could smell his cologne, a clean, fresh scent, and feel the warmth of his skin. Totally different to Kenji's overbearing one.
"Smooth," you managed to say with a roll of your eyes, your voice a little breathless.
"Had to make it look good," he whispered back, a hint of pride in his voice. "I told you, I'm a professional." He then flashed Kenji a cheerful wave. "Morning, Sato! How's it hanging?"
Kenji practically jumped out of his skin. He gave a stuttering, noncommittal wave and scurried off down the hallway, completely dejected.
The look on Satoru’s face was priceless. A grin of pure victory.
"Mission accomplished," he declared. "That was way too easy. I think he actually wet himself a little bit."
"You're impossible," you said, shaking your head, but you couldn't help the laughter bubbling up inside you. It was a weird, giddy feeling. The stress of the past few weeks was melting away, replaced by this ridiculous and yet thrilling game. The halls of school were no longer just a place for academic competition. They were now your stage, and Satoru Gojo was your co-star.
Over the next few weeks, the 'pretend' part of the relationship became less and less of a priority. The pattern was simple: Satoru would meet you at your locker, there would be some casual, flirty banter—which was quickly becoming second nature for both of you—and the word would spread like wildfire that the star rugby player and the valedictorian were officially a thing. It was the most talked-about couple in school, which was exactly what you'd wanted and needed to get Kenji off your back. And it was working. Kenji had become a ghost, avoiding you with the same fervor he used to pursue you.
But the thing was, you and Satoru weren't just pretending anymore. The lines had blurred so completely that you weren't sure where the act ended and reality began.
The hand-holding became instinctual. When you were walking to class, you'd reach for his hand without thinking. He'd intertwine his fingers with yours, his palm warm and calloused from rugby. It felt right.
The protective gestures became second nature. At lunch, he'd always make sure you had a seat, a slight frown on his face if anyone else tried to sit too close. He’d save you the last chocolate milk from the cafeteria, and you’d see the proud, almost childlike look on his face when you’d thank him.
The conversations, at first stilted and awkward, became as easy as breathing. You found yourself telling him about the nuances of your Chemistry project, and he would listen, his head tilted, actually paying attention, which was a novelty. He'd in turn tell you about the complex strategy behind a rugby play, making you see the brain behind the brute force.
"You know, just standing here is making me look extremely good," Satoru announced one afternoon, leaning against your locker as you gathered your books. "I'm like an accessory. A very high-end, designer accessory."
"Yes, I can see that," you said dryly, not looking up. "My life is so much more complete now that I have the physical embodiment of a peacock following me around."
"A peacock? I am so much more than a peacock. I'm more like..." he paused, thinking. "A phoenix. A majestic, unbelievably handsome phoenix who rises from the ashes of his boring, friendless past to become the dazzling star he was always meant to be."
"You were never boring and friendless," you scoffed softly, finally looking up at him. "You were just... you."
The teasing grin on his face faltered for a second, replaced by a softer, more intense expression. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice quieter.
"Yeah," you said, a little self-conscious now. "You were always a lot. But I kinda liked it."
He stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes unreadable. Then he let out a slow breath and looked away, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "Dude, you can't just say stuff like that. I'm gonna get all emotional on you, and that's not a good look for me. I have a reputation to maintain."
That night, he walked you home as usual. The streetlights were starting to flicker on, casting long, dancing shadows. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth. "So," he said, kicking a loose stone. "Have you thought about what happens when this is all over? Once Sato gets a girlfriend or moves to another planet or mysteriously gets hit by a car."
You had, actually. You'd thought about it a lot. The idea of this ending, of going back to just exchanging casual hellos in the hallway, made your stomach feel hollow. "I dunno," you said, shrugging, trying to sound indifferent. "I guess we'll figure it out. It's not like I own you."
He stopped walking, and you stopped too, turning to look at him. "You know, you do, right? The childhood friend thing. It's a binding contract."
"What contract?"
"The best friend contract," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "The one we signed when we were ten and made a pact to always share our fries. The one where you said you'd never let me eat the last fry."
"Actually, I distinctly remember you stealing it from my plate and running away laughing," you corrected him.
"Details," he waved a dismissive hand. "The point is, you're my best friend. You've always been my best friend. And I'm sorry I forgot that for a while. I'm sorry I was an idiot and got caught up in the whole... popularity thing."
"It wasn't your fault," you said quietly. "We both drifted."
"Yeah, but I'm the one who did the drifting," he insisted. "I should have... held on tighter. I should've made sure you knew I was still there."
He was standing close now, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlight. His features were sharper in this light, his cheekbones more pronounced, his eyes a pretty, luminous blue. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin.
"So," he said, his voice a low murmur. "What do you say we stop pretending?"
Your breath caught in your throat. "Stop pretending what?"
"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The fake stuff. What if... what if we just made it real? No more act."
You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting. This was not part of the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to fake it, get rid of the creepy guy, and then move on with your separate lives. "Satoru..."
"I know, it's crazy," he said, a self-deprecating laugh escaping him. "You probably think it's just me being a dumb jock. But I've been trying not to think about this for years. And now, with this whole fake-boyfriend thing, it's like... I got a taste of what it could be like, and I don't really want to let it go."
You tried to piece together a sentence, any sentence. "But... you're you. You could have pretty much anyone. Why settle?"
He let out a frustrated sigh. "It's not settling if I want you." He took a step closer, and you were frozen. "I've wanted this. For a long time. I was just too much of a coward to say anything until it was too late. You know me, the real me and not the jock everyone sees me as. And that's exactly what I want. Someone who knows me. Who better than my best friend slash fake girlfriend?"
Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. "I do know you."
He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that was so different from his usual smug grins. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay," he said, his voice soft. "I'm gonna do something now, and if you want me to stop, just say the word."
Before you could ask what he was going to do, he leaned in. His hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up. And then his lips met yours.
It wasn't a theatrical, fake-boyfriend kiss for the benefit of a crowd. It was gentle and warm, and surprisingly hesitant for someone as confident as Satoru. It was the kiss of a boy who had waited years to do this.
When he pulled back, he was smiling, his face a little flushed. "So," he said, his voice a little ragged. "That wasn't too bad, right? For a first try?"
You were too stunned to speak. All you could do was smile back. And then, on impulse, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him down for another one so hard he could only laugh into the kiss as his arms encircled your waist.
The next day at school, you walked in with Satoru, his arm slung around your shoulder. It was a common sight now, but this time, there was a new, undeniable layer of intimacy to it. The whispers followed you, but they didn't bother you. You heard the usual murmurs: "Are they actually dating now?" "I thought they were just a rumor." "He could do better." They didn't matter.
Because the only opinion that mattered was the guy whose arm was around you, squeezing your shoulder.
Later that day, Satoru had to run to rugby practice, and he dropped you off at the library. He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Don't have too much fun without me."
"I can't promise anything," you replied. "I have a date with a really thick book on macroeconomics."
"Book-lover," he teased, tapping your nose. "Alright, I'll see you after practice. We're getting that ramen you wanted."
As he walked away, you were feeling pretty good about life. You hadn't had time to think about Kenji in ages. He'd been out of your orbit for weeks, a faded memory now. You sat down in your usual spot near the window, pulling out your books. But you weren't alone for long because soon your boyfriend would come get you and you'd go out for that ramen dinner date he promised.
note written for this request ! i'm super sorry it’s so short anon but i hope you enjoy it anyways <333 loveu
cw no explicit smut but there is boob sucking ;) , reader kiiiind of implied larger chest but honestly it's minor any size can work all boobies are good boobies (take it from a girl whos in a relationship with a problematic boob size gap i love everyone <3)
your boyfriend was a self-proclaimed “boob guy.” whenever he was having a rough day, satoru would somehow end up face down in your chest, rambling about whatever had pissed him off that day.
tonight, he came home exhausted and very obviously annoyed. the first thing he did after slipping into his pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt was flop down on the bed next to you and curl up into your side. laughing lightly, you wrap one arm around him as the other drifts to his head, carding through his hair gently. you scratch at his scalp and he groans, pressing his face further into your body.
he inhales deeply. “you smell good,” he mumbles, all muffled in your clothes. “missed you today. yaga was on my back all day for some nonsense.”
“i missed you too, baby,” you whisper, kissing the top of his snowy head. “wanna talk about it?”
sometimes he would want to just lie in the silence with you, soaking in the peace and quiet. other times, like today, he wanted to share with you all the things he had been holding back all day. he does so, one of his large hands coming up to cup your breast. you think nothing of it—you know it somewhat soothes him. as he chatters away, his palm works at you, kneading and squeezing lightly. his thumb brushes over your nipple, hardening it under your vest top.
“i’m just so bored of it,” he sighs into you. “it’s like i’m never doing enough for them.”
your hands massage his head and run through his hair. he, on the other hand, hooks a finger into the neckline of your top and pulls.
“satoru!” you gasp. “you're such a pervert.”
“can you blame me?” he shoves his face into the gap between your breasts and places soft kisses against your skin. “they destress me.”
chuckling, you slip the strap of your vest off your shoulder and shift onto your side so that he has better access. satoru pecks the side of your breast closest to the bed and licks a wet strip up your pebbled nipple. you inhale sharply, the warmth of his tongue a stark contrast to the cool air of your bedroom.
you grip his hair tighter as he pulls the sensitive bud past his lips, sucking gently. one of his hands squeezes the tit he currently has in his mouth, the free one pinching your other nipple, rolling it between the soft pads of his fingertips. a soft moan escapes your lips as he flicks his tongue out against you, pressing it into your skin.
satoru continues to suck and lick at your tits, alternating between both until he’s drooling down your breasts, lips plump and raw. the sensation is soothing, sending shovers down your spine as your clit begins to throb and pulse. the position is comfortable; you're both on your sides as if you were cuddling, but instead his mouth is wrapped around you and your panties are getting more soaked by the second.
shifting slightly, gojo snakes his hand down your thighs and presses his fingers into the drenched cotton of your sleeping shorts, finding your clit with ease as he rubs small circles into it. you arch more into his touch, his mouth never ceasing its ministrations on your nipples. he’s enjoying this even more than you are—his eyes are screwed shut, eyebrows furrowed as he groans around your tits, tongue swirling expertly against you.
when he releases you from his mouth with a wet pop, he looks up at you fondly. his cheeks are tinged a pretty pink and he’s smiling sheepishly, hair a mess from where you've been gripping at it.
“feel any better?” you ask, kissing his forehead.
“much better, thank you, baby.” he grins from ear to ear as his fingers slip carefully under your underwear. “your turn next.”
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satoru knows he's wrong, but he never expect you to punish him like this. you're dying in his arms. he holds you with the same hands that took the lives of his children. he cries, begging you to spit out the poison that you drank. you smile at him with your last breath. "remember satoru, you... will always... watch your... loved ones... die..."
that's how the emeperor satoru gojo goes mad. the empire crumbles along with its king, left without an heir. satoru abadons everything, determined to find a way to atone for his sins. the only thing he takes with him is your wedding band.
for centuries, he wanders from village to village never staying in one place for too long. that's when he realizes, he hasn't aged since you died, as if he has been froze in time. satoru curses everyone who dragged into this immortality, but never you, the one who actually cursed him.
on his first day working at noble's mansion, the head butler orders him to escort the marchioness. he isn't particularly fond of his new job, until he sees the woman that he's been ordered to escort is you. no... not you. your reincarnation. for the first time in centuries, he chooses to stay where he is.
from what he learns through the servants' gossip, the marchioness has been married for years without bearing an heir. what concerns him the most is the fact that the marquess has been raising his hand against you. sometimes, satoru catches a glimpse of bruises the bruises on your skin, it's enough to make his blood boil.
satoru starts courting you secretly. at first, you reject him firmly, but times has a way of changing of people's hearts. little by little, you begin open up to him. one rainy night, someone knocks on door to satoru's room. when he opens it, you, standing there drenched, wrapped in nothing but a shawl over your nightgown. "satoru... hold me..."
that day, satoru decides to run away with you. perhaps this is his way of atoning for the sins of his past, saving you from a life of misery. for a while, everything is finally peaceful until you die from an illnes at the age of thirty-two, the same age as the empress died.
satoru doesn't want to think about it, but your voice echoing in his mind. remember, satoru, you will always watch your loved ones die. there's has to be a reason why you suddenly fell ill. it must be the curse. no, he's the curse. what if you could have lived long if he had never interfered? did you regret running away with him?
satoru leaves your grave with heavy heart, once again he watches you died. he becomes a man who wanders a village to village with no identity. years pass again, but that man's heart never healed. how long he has to wait until the curse get tired of him, because he does.
war breaks out in the country where satoru lives, and he is forced to serve in the army. now he lies on bed inside medical tent after being struck by several bullets. it's hardly surprising that he survived. but more importantly, one of the nurses catches his attention, you. once again, in different era.
satoru doesn't want to interfere with your life this time, because he can't bear to watch you die again. but it seems you truly have feelings for him, the way you always fluster whenever you change his bandages, the way you stay by his bedside just to talk. perhaps if fate always finds a way to bring you back to him, then he wants nothing more than to make you happy once again.
after the war ends, satoru offers a hand that you gladly to accept it. he knows you can't have children, but simply being with you is enough. satoru works tirelessly to earn enough money so you can live without worry. when everything is going too well, you fall ill. he knows that there's nothing he can't do, so he simply holds you until your final breath.
you die at the age thirty-two, another life cut painfully short. satoru stays by your grave for several days before leaving another place. someday, he will find your reincarnation again, and once again, he will make you happy.
now in the modern era, after building a successful company and amassing fortune. satoru finally has you as his wife. the two of you stroll through a museum together, and one potrait catches your eye. the empress. satoru recognizes it in a glance, it is the very same portrait that once hung in his study back at the imperial palace.
"she died at the age of thirty-two after poisoned herself, following the murder of her children by the emperor." you read the description aloud, satoru goes still. "that's such a tragic story, but why would the emperor do something like that?"
satoru's hand moves to your waist, gently rubbing soothing circles against your side. "maybe, the emperor had a reason." he says quietly.
"why?" you look up at him. "they're famous because their love story was like a fairytale."
"because the emperor made the worst decision of his life."
"what do you mean?"
"because their children had been brainwashed into turning against their mother," he murmurs. "but the emperor never had the chance to tell her the truth."
satoru turns to look at you, his eyes go wide as a tear rolls down your cheek. for a fleeting moment, it feels as though he has finally told the empress the truth, but no, you don't remember anything about your past life.
"sweets, why are you crying?" satoru's large, calloused hands cup your cheeks, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
"that's really a tragic story, I'm sorry, I've been getting emotional lately." you try to stop crying, but something continues to squeeze your heart. "but how do you know that? no one knows the real story."
"maybe the wind told me." satoru lets out a soft chuckle to lighten up the heavy mood.
you chuckle along with him as you wipe away your tears. "you're never serious, satoru."
"but I'm always serious when it comes to you, sweets." he winks at you, expecting you to fluster
"then you must know that I'm pregnant."
"oh sweets, don't make a joke like that."
your hand drifts to your lower abdomen. "I'm not joking, I'm really pregnant."
satoru places a hand on your stomach, he's really has no idea. he thought you couldn't have a child, but yet, here's you are, carrying his child. satoru pulls you into tight embrace, he's excited but also terrified. from the bottom of his heart, satoru wishes that the curse already gone.
hi, it's been a month and half since the last i posted. thank you for reading 🤍
clan head!gojo, who finds it mighty hilarious—and even more adorable—that his wife gets all flustered about the servants discovering the cum-stained mess on the shikibuton kaba. sitting up and stretching, he makes grabby hands and whines for you to get your cute lil’ ass back in bed… he promises he’ll wash the linens himself, adding with a seductive wink that he’s more than happy to let you squirt all over the futon again
cw: breeding kink, dubcon to noncon, primal play obvs, degradation, really dark gojo here
he gently but forcefully guided you outside to the backyard of his parents' mansion, bringing you to a edge of the garden where the pristinely mowed grass turns into dangerous vines. a few metres ahead of you begins a forest, with large dark trees and a plethora of unknown creatures.
you, wearing only gojo's shirt and some tracksuit pants, turn to look at him.
"i-it's too cold for this, toru. let's just go back inside."
"oh, don't be a baby. you'll warm up as soon as you start runnin'." you can tell he's excited from the way his body practically bounces up and down, and how he keeps clapping his hands together, as if preparing for an olympic sprint.
he had this sudden idea to play tag, where he got to chase you through the woods. you weren't stupid, you knew he was gonna fuck you when he found you. the idea did sound enticing, but not on a freezing friday night.
"b-but i don't wanna get hurt or get all muddy. can't we do this inside?"
"but that's not as fun, baby. i really wanna be able to catch you properly."
"i don't even have shoes on-"
your words are cut off when gojo steps forward and grabs your neck firmly. his eyes are almost predatory, wide and focused on every micro-movement of your face.
"you're gonna run, and i'm gonna catch you, and there's nothing you can do about it." he releases your neck and steps back, only to begin counting down from 30. he wears a subtle smile on his face, and you know there's no deterring him.
in a panic, you quickly turn around and start sprinting into the forest. the branches hurt beneath your feet and every cold gust of wind shatters your teeth, but the adrenaline runs so intensely through your veins that you don't think to stop.
you make good distance, stopping behind a tree to catch your sputtering breath. it's definitely been at least a minute by now. the thought of gojo, walking carefully through the woods with you being his target ensues a mix of excitement and genuine fear.
you start walking again, careful to avoid snapping anymore branches and to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. as you look around, you realise how deep you've gone, and an uneasy feeling hits you.
was this just another joke? a facade of a game to get you to run into the forest like an idiot? oh, you can just imagine gojo texting all his friends about how much of a crazy bitch you are, listening to whatever he says.
you're about to turn back when you suddenly hear him call out.
"i know you're around here honey! i'm gonna find you!"
the adrenaline rushes through you again and you begin to rush for more distance, ignoring the mud on your feet and sounds of insects all around you.
"just cm'here, and everything will be okay." he says. you can hear him panting slightly, the sentence seeming to have a slight growl at the end of it.
you breathe softly as you creep through the nature, smiling to yourself at your success. idiot, he would never catch you if you continued on like this. you can smell your victory when suddenly you hear the sound of running behind you.
you glance back and see gojo running at full speed through the trees, his ghastly white hair standing out, along with his animalistic eyes.
"i found you!" he calls out, and you finally get your body to move. sprinting without a care to all the sound you're making, you do your best to outrun him, but it's not enough. his heavy footsteps catch up quickly, and soon you feel him grasp the back of your (his) shirt.
"you're, pant, you're mine now, bunny." he says, firmly pushing you to the ground. you try to push him away, but he simply gathers your wrists and pins them to your chest.
"you, you really ran hard, huh?" he says, tugging down your pants with one hand.
"n-no, toru, it's dirty out here-"
"shut up. i caught you, i get to have you." he huffs as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out some kind of bondage device.
"w-what is that?" you ask.
"just a something new." gojo fits the device over your head and around your neck, before fitting your hands into the straps coming from it.
"there, we, go." gojo says, tightening it. "now my little bunny can't get away."
you squirm in the ties that confine your hands to your neck, to which gojo laughs.
"don't worry, i won't hurt you. i just wanna have some fun." he returns his attention back down to your pants, bringing down your underwear as well and throwing both behind him. his cold hands spread the lips of your pussy, before he spits right onto it.
you shiver as gojo begins to lap at your cunt, pushing your thighs to your belly. after a while, when you're all needy and squirmy, he pulls back. but he looks a little, different.
"you want a baby, bunny? yeah, i bet you do." he says, undoing his belt and bringing down his pants. your brows furrow as he takes out his weeping cock, but doesn't accomapny it with a condom. he shuffles forward to position himself, eyes practically eminating with lust.
"w-wait, toru. where's the condom?"
"shhhhh baby, bunnies don't talk." he says, not even looking up at you. instead, he pushes one of your thighs back to your stomach whilst his other hand begins to push in the tip of his cock, every so slowly.
"no, no! stop! we can't, we can't!" you yell, trying to squirm away from him. gojo's eyes flash with anger and he drags you back to him, pinning your thighs on top of his as he begins to push into you again.
"toru, please. i, i don't wanna do this." you cry, struggling with both his girth and his relentless state.
"you, do want this. your little pussy is so wet you couldn't not want this." he says, eyes focused on how his cock is now half buried inside you. "i think you're just a little scared." he whispers.
"please, ahh-"
"scared to have my baby, yeah? is that it?"
"i'm not having your b-baby, satoru-"
"hmm, i think you are. i think, seeing your belly all big, waddling around with only me to rely on. i think that's a pretty good sight." he shoves his cock all the way in, forcing a moan out of you as your eyes roll back. you try to squirm again, but his grip on your thighs holds firm.
"your parents would be soooo mad, wouldn't they? to find out their precious little daughter has been fucking around, presenting her pussy for men like to me release into. silly little cumdump."
you fight against the restraints, but it's no use. they render your hands completely useless as gojo begins to force his cock into you over and over again.
"i mean, it's not like you're great at school either. just another average, in every sense of the word."
your tears fall heavy now, your begging turned to whimpers and pleads.
"shh, it's okay. i'll make you the best mother there ever was." he says, leaning down to wipe your tears.
Was the very first thing Satoru heard when he opened the door after your sharp knock. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, white hair messy from running his fingers through it all evening. He had expected his girlfriend to maybe, idk give him a hug or kiss after a long day?! but nooooo. You had other plans, clearly.
You pushed your way into his dorm without waiting for an invitation, and Satoru stood there dumbly for a solid three seconds, mouth half opened, before he closed the door behind you with a soft click. Then you grabbed him by the neck of his sweater and yanked hard, tugging him by the collar into his bedroom. His big frame following behind you obediently, his voice coming out in a stuttered mess.
"ba-babe what's w-wrong?"
As you backed his big body into his bed, your pretty manicured fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts and tugged at it along with his boxers. Your voice rang out again. "You heard me Toru. boxers off." You pulled them down and his thick cock flopped out already twitching with interest. And by the time you settled on top of him, you had one hand on his cock, stroking it impatiently to life and with your other hand, you tugged your panties down. They were already soaked with the sweetness of your cunt. When they were off, you balled them up and shoved them into Toru's mouth, gagging him.
He was already whining, his cock sensitive from your rough handling. Precum slicking your palm as you worked him, then you lifted your hips and began to sink down on his cock, not wasting anytime to tease. The fat pink mushroomy tip of his cock notched at your hole, pushing in as your cunt stretched to take all of his hardened length.
With your lack of patience, you took his cock with little to no struggle, usually there would be a struggle, but you slid down. Sitting on every inch of that thick girth. He mewled weakly at the feeling, the muffled sound vibrating against the cotton in his mouth.
Then came your interrogatory questions.
"Ignored me yesterday? huhh asshole." Your eyes sharp and locking onto his bright blues with anger in them.
His face screwed up, maybe a little annoyed that you called him "asshole". He groaned, shifting on the bed a little, trying to adjust himself more comfortably.
"aah- i didnft, bahbe." Muffled and unclear, his words came out. You didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips into a pout at his feeble attempt at explaining himself. And just grinded down on his cock. "Yeah, you ignored me, Toru." You said again firmly. "Saw my messages and didn't even send a text back."
He looked at you like he was in pain and he tried to talk again, but the panties muffled his voice. You reached two fingers in and tugged them out of his mouth. Finally able to speak properly now, he said "No babe, I didn't! I was studying... for that calc test, remember."
He sounded so pathetic, your pussy squeezing him nicely, around every vein of his trobbing length. You frowned, hands planted firmly on his chest, now.
"Is some test more important than me, your girlfriend?"
Fuck no. He screamed silently in his mind. How could a test ever be more important than his girlfriend's perfect pussy swallowing his cock right now he thought. "Hm toru?" You huffed again, breaking his attention, rocking down on his cock for emphasis.
"Fuck no babe" he blurted out. "Nothing's never more important than you, ever"
That response earned him your fingers digging into his shoulder, you lifted up and then took all of his cock again in one smooth drop. His hands flew to your waist now, he wanted to thrust up into your puffy cunt, drive his cock in deeper. Hoping to fuck into your tight gummy walls.
You saw that pleading look on his face. His eyes glassed over with need, you were still annoyed, so you shoved your panties back into his mouth before he could repeat another desperate, 'sorry'. You were gonna use him good, cause he didn't deserve to speak freely right now.
Your hips rolled slow at first,savouring the way his thickness split you open. Every ridge dragging along your walls and you could feel him throbbing inside you. Hot and heavy. His muffled whines pushing the fabric between his teeth. His fingers dug into your waist, but he didn't dare take control. Not when you had that fire in your eyes.
You leaned forward. bracing your hands on his chest again. your nails scratching lightly over his skin. you started bouncing, proper on him. The wet slap of your bodies filling his dorm room, each drop of your hips, took him to the hilt. Your cunt fluttering around him, squeezing like you wanted to milk him dry.
"You think studying is an excuse, Toru?" You asked between breaths. your voice low and sweet but edged with that annoyance. "I sat there waiting for one little text. And you left me on delivered."
He shook his head fast, Eyes wide and desperate, the panties kept him from forming real words. Only desperate sounds escaped. "mmph-haah-please."
You smiled at that, Mean and pretty. Then, you reached back and grabbed his balls gently. Rolling them in your palm while you kept riding him hard. his thighs trembled under you, cock twitching violently inside your heat. You knew he was close already, always your sensitive, pretty boy.
But you weren't done.
you slowed down again, grinding in circles. Letting his tip kiss that spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. Your own pleasure built slow and hot, moaning softly. Letting him hear how good he felt even when he had been bad.
"My perfect boyfriend can't even spare thirty seconds for me?" You cooed, tugging the panties out once more so you could hear his answer.
"I'm sorry, babe. i swear i didn't mean to," He gasped out immediately, voice wrecked. "Was buried in books and lost track of time. Your messages... fuck i saw them later and felt like shit."
You clicked your tongue, shoved the panties back in. "Too late for sorrys now, Toru."
You rode him faster, chasing your own high. Clit rubbing against his pelvis with every grind, pleasure sparking up your spine. His hands slid up your sides. Thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your shirt. You let him because it felt good. Because even when you were punishing him, you still craved his touch.
His muffled cries grew louder, hips jerking up to meet you despite trying to stay still. you could feel him swelling inside you. So close, and you clenched around him on purpose, tight and rhythmic.
"You're gonna cum inside me," You told him, voice firm. "And you're gonna thank me for it after."
He nodded frantically, tears of overstimulation gathering at the corners of his eyes. You lifted up almost all the way, then slammed back down. Once. Twice. Three times, then your orgasm crashed over you first, walls pulsing hard around his cock. Soaking him with your release, crying out his name, sharp and sweet.
That pushed him over. He came with a broken whine. Thick ropes of cum flooding your cunt and spilling deep while your body milked every drop. His whole frame shook under you. big hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.
You stayed seated on him for a long moment, catching your breath. Feeling the mess between you, his cum leaking out around his cock where you were still joined.
Finally, you pulled the panties from his mouth and tossed them aside. You leaned down and kissed him slow. Tasting the faint trace of yourself on his tongue. He kissed back eagerly, desperate and loving.
"Don't ignore me again Satoru," You whispered against his lips.
"Never again, babe," He promised, voice hoarse, his arms wrapping around you tight. "You're more important than anything. Always."
You smiled soft now. The annoyance melted into warmth and rocked your hips once more, lazily and affectionate. Feeling him twitch inside you even after he had finished.
The night was still young and you had plenty more ways to remind him exactly who always came first in his world.
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︵ ೀ fluff. you call satoru by his last name in public and he is a bit dramatic about it
the staff meeting at jujutsu high was supposed to be the most boring hour of your week, the kind where yaga talks about statistics and everyone quietly checks how many minutes are left before they can go get lunch.
but you and satoru had gotten into a fight that morning, one of those stupid arguments that starts over something small and somehow spirals into “well maybe you just don’t think about anyone but yourself,” and neither of you had really resolved it before you both had to show up to work like functioning adults.
so when he strolled into the conference room fifteen minutes late, blindfold pushed up onto his head, grinning like the whole world owed him a good morning, you didn’t even glance up from your notebook.
“morning, morning, did everyone miss me?” he said, dropping into the seat next to yours like nothing at all had happened between the two of you a few hours earlier.
“gojo,” you said, without looking up, your voice perfectly even, like you were greeting a coworker you barely knew.
the entire room seemed to freeze for a second. not satoru. not babe, not the nickname you swore you’d never use in public but absolutely used constantly at home. just gojo, delivered with all the warmth of a weather report.
nanami’s eyebrows climbed so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. shoko made a small choking sound and had to set her coffee cup down before she embarrassed herself further. even yaga, who had seen a thousand strange things happen in this school, paused his sentence about budget allocations to look between the two of you like he’d wandered into the middle of a drama he hadn’t signed up for.
satoru blinked, the smile faltering just slightly at the corners. “huh?”
you flipped a page in your notebook and underlined something that absolutely did not need underlining, just to have somewhere to put your hands.
“did you,” he started, sitting up straighter now, all his earlier ease draining out of him, “did you seriously just gojo me?”
“can we please get back to the agenda,” you said, addressing the room in general rather than him specifically.
nanami cleared his throat and tried to steer things back on track. “as i was saying, the eastern district has seen an uptick in curse activity over the past—”
“she gojo’d me,” satoru interrupted, loud enough that the whole table heard it, staring at you with the wounded expression of a man who had just watched his house burn down in front of him. “in front of everyone. she used my last name like i’m a substitute teacher.”
you still didn’t look at him. you clicked your pen closed, then open again, then closed, a habit you knew drove him up the wall, and said nothing at all.
“focus, gojo,” you said again, watching the way his whole soul seemed to leave his body when you said it a second time was a little more satisfying than you’d expected.
“okay. okay, everybody hold on,” satoru said, raising both hands like he was trying to talk down an actual hostage situation. “nobody move, nobody speak, something has gone horribly wrong here. she just used my government name. in public. on purpose.”
“that is your name,” nanami pointed out, deadpan, not even looking up from his own notes.
“not to her it isn’t! not in four years has she ever once called me gojo, and now suddenly, out of nowhere, in the middle of a staff meeting, she’s talking to me like i’m a stranger she met at the post office—” he turned to you again, voice climbing with real panic now. “okay, you know what, meeting’s over, everyone go home, thank you for coming, we’ll reschedule—”
“the meeting,” yaga said flatly, unimpressed, “is not over.”
“it is for me!” satoru stood so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor, then leaned across the table toward you, blindfold slipping further down his forehead, genuine desperation creeping into his voice. “what did i do. just tell me what i did and i’ll fix it. is this about the mission partner thing? it’s the mission partner thing, isn’t it. i can undo it. i can un-fix the fixing. i can grovel right here in front of everyone if that’s what this requires—”
you finally looked up to deliver the final blow with the sweetest, most devastating calm you could manage:
“i’m not sure what you mean, gojo. we’re in the middle of a meeting.”
that was the moment the room completely lost it. shoko was laughing so hard into her coffee cup that she had to set it down entirely, wiping at her eyes. nanami pressed a hand over his face like he was praying for the strength to survive this job for one more day. even yaga, who never smiled during meetings on principle, was clearly biting back one now, badly.
“that’s it,” satoru said, dropping back into his chair. “fine. that’s fine. be like that. see if i care. i am literally the strongest sorcerer in the world and i am being disrespected in my own place of employment, in front of my own coworkers, by my own—” he lowered his voice for the last part, leaning toward you like it was a secret, “—girlfriend, who apparently doesn’t remember that we live together and that i know exactly what cereal she eats and exactly what she looks like without—”
“gojo,” nanami cut in, exhausted, “please let the meeting continue.”
“see! even he can feel that something is deeply wrong here! the temperature in this room actually dropped! shoko, did the temperature just drop or was that just me—”
you allowed yourself the smallest, most private smile, tucked safely behind the cover of your notebook, as the strongest sorcerer alive continued to unravel in real time over exactly one syllable of his own last name, in front of the entire senior staff of jujutsu high, on a random tuesday morning.
by the time you got home that evening, satoru had clearly spent the whole day rehearsing something, because the second you walked through the door he was already there, hovering, almost vibrating with nervous energy like a dog that knows it did something wrong but isn’t sure what.
“okay so,” he said, following you into the kitchen, “i’ve been thinking about this literally all day, and i want to formally apologize, on the record, for the mission partner thing, and also i want to say, for the record, that what you did today was actually kind of terrifying and i need you to never do it again.”
“do what,” you said, setting your bag down like you had no idea what he could possibly mean, even though you absolutely did.
“you know what,” he said, sliding an arm around your waist from behind before you could even take your jacket off, chin dropping onto your shoulder. “the gojo thing. please. i’m begging you. never again.”
“it’s your name,” you said, echoing nanami from earlier, and you felt him groan directly into your shoulder.
“it is not my name when you say it like that,” he mumbled. “when you say it like that it sounds like you’re breaking up with me in front of witnesses. i had to sit there for an entire meeting wondering if this was it, if this was the day my girlfriend decided she’d had enough of me and was breaking the news.”
you turned around in his arms, biting back a laugh, and he immediately seized the opportunity to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he was bracing for more punishment.
“so you admit you deserved it,” you said.
“i admit nothing,” he said, “except that i am deeply, deeply sorry, and that i will never again swap your mission partner without telling you first, and that if you ever call me gojo again in public i will actually die.”
“say please.”
“please,” he said immediately, no hesitation at all, pulling you in tighter like he was worried you might change your mind and use his last name right there in the kitchen just to torture him further. “please, please, i’ll do anything, i’ll even do paperwork, just—just be normal about it. call me anything else. call me an idiot, call me insufferable, i don’t care, just not that.”
“fine,” you said, finally letting the smile show. “satoru.”
the relief on his face was almost embarrassing, the way his whole body seemed to unclench at once, like you’d just lifted some enormous curse off him.
“thank you,” he said, dramatic as ever, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your mouth. “never again. i mean it. that was the scariest six words of my entire life and i’ve fought curses that wanted to eat my ass.”
“it was one word,” you pointed out.
“it felt like six,” he said, and pulled you into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the breath out of you, laughing into your hair, all traces of this morning’s fight forgiven, or at least thoroughly overridden by how badly he never wanted to hear his own last name from you again.
꩜ – FRAT PRESIDENT SATORU GOJO (and the shy girl he's obsessed with!)
(18+) HEADCANONS :: – frat!gojo x innocent!reader, college au, smut, dom!gojo, handjobs, praise, corruption kink, manipulative behavior, slight dub-con
frat president!satoru, who’s used to every type of girl at his party except you, all big eyes, wandering around his house like you didn’t know what to do. he’s asked suguru to offer you everything under the sun in the last thirty or so minutes — a drink, a smoke, a joint. you just politely decline, shaking your head so prettily.
frat president!satoru, who swears he’s just got an ego when he decides he’ll be the one to show you all of that and more. he could do it if suguru couldn’t, if no one else could.
he starts off all nice, walking you to all your classes, offering his sweaters in the lectures you had together (which he only started attending for you), buying you lunch and listening to your cute little rants about your worst profs.
frat president!satoru learns that you like being held when he’s the first one to find you after an exam you swear you’d failed. he doesn’t get it ‘til he’d realized your eyes are all glassy, so shiny as you peered up at him with wobbling lips, trying not to cry in front of him.
frat president!satoru loves the way you’d just melted into his arms after that. he calls you easy to his friends for it, but something inside him never wants to let go whenever you’re willing to press yourself into his chest, wherever you’re willing to do it.
frat president!satoru, who asks you what you’re wearing all the time and sends even prettier things to wear to your dorm when he thinks you can do better.
frat president!satoru, who’s spiraling at night, jerking off to your contact photo, wrapping his large hand around his dick and pretending like it’s that sweet mouth of yours engulfing his length. he imagines how shy you’d be, lips parted wide, smearing pre-cum and replacing your candy lip balm. he wants you tasting like him, those soft cheeks drenched in his cum, eyes screwed shut until he’s all you can think about.
frat president!satoru likes making you need him, doting on you and driving you around like a princess, spoiling you until you frown whenever his hand isn’t on your hip, or whenever he dodges your calls for fraternity meetings. he likes the idea that you might become obsessed with him (like he is with you).
frat president!satoru, who’s grinning cruelly the minute you finally tell him, “you know, you do so much for me, I feel like I’m not doing enough for you.” in that small little voice of yours one day, while you’re tucked into his side at your apartment.
frat president!satoru, who’s never missed a meeting or a call until that day, when he’s finally got you whimpering shyly in his lap while he gently mouths at your neck, tasting that perfume he’s been searching online for for weeks, whispering about how he’s so grateful you wanna help him out, how sweet you are for making it up to him too even when you didn't have to.
but he’s been waiting for weeks, you’re all soft and impressionable on him, and he’s not letting a moment of your kindness go to waste.
frat president!satoru guides you with a husky voice when he teaches you to spit in your own palm and wrap your smaller hand around his cock, nearly shivering at the contact — “make me feel good, pretty girl, it’s the least you can do.”
frat president!satoru, who just chuckles at the fact that you’re all nervous, looking up at him as if asking what to do next, just for him to wrap his palm around yours, engulfing it entirely. he groans lowly as he moves your palm up and down on his already-hard length, bottom lip catching between his teeth at how warm your hand feels against his dick.
“shit, just keep it like that, baby, up and down…”
frat president!satoru, who kisses you slow when you gasp at how he bucks up into your hand, keeping his own wrapped around it while desperately attempting not to just use you, jerk himself off with your tiny little fingers, maneuver you down and slam himself deep into your tight cunt. “hah — fuck, gorgeous, y— you’re good at this, huh? so good for me, so fucking cute…”
“i’ve never done this before,” you admit into frat president!satoru’s mouth, hushed and breathy like it’s a secret. he wants to fucking laugh, but he’s cut short by a low hiss as you thumb at his slit without him having to teach you, making him lose his mind piece by piece. shit, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?
“am — am I doing okay, satoru?”
frat president!satoru has nearly had enough of patience when you say that. shit, he bites down into your lip without even realizing, hand tightening around yours when you whimper. and it’s barely enough to notice at first, but he pumps your hand around him faster, growling into your mouth at the way your fingertips flex around his length, making a slick! sound that echoes across the room.
“you’re — shit, just like that — doing perfect, baby. so perfect.” frat president!satoru groans into your throat, even though he’s using your hand like a fuck toy now, smearing his own pre-cum mixed with your saliva all over his huge dick, bucking his hips up into your plush skin like a glorified fleshlight.
the only one he’s dreamed of in the past few weeks, at least.
frat president!satoru gets off on how eager you are to match his pace, his other hand cupping your cheeks to purse your pretty mouth open for him as he spits down your throat and relishes in your confused little whine. he doesn’t even realize how tightly he’s gripping your hand now, forcing you to jerk his cock faster.
“that’s it,” he pants into your lips, “just let me have you, okay? hah— so good, shit, you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”
“satoru—” your voice is a wet dream, how it feathers off around the edges and breaks like you’re not sure.
frat president!satoru groans at the sound of your confusion. “been, fuck, thinking about this, baby. want you creaming on my cock next, yeah? or maybe it’s — haah! — too big for your first time. gotta — shit — prep you first.”
frat president!satoru spills into your hand with one last rough stroke of both your hands around his length, gasping low with his tongue down your throat as he finally lets your hand go. he watches the way your palm shakes, eyes dark, lifting your cum-covered fingertips to your mouth without thinking. and he thinks you won’t do it, until—
your sweet fucking tongue darts out to lick experimentally at your own fingers, and satoru thinks he’s gone to heaven.
frat president!satoru, who can’t help himself when he’s grabbing you by the waist now, laying you flat on your back and coming up to slot his knee between your thighs, committing the way your face scrunches up in both confusion and pleasure to memory. he thinks you’re the cutest fucking thing in the world, and he wants you broken in every way possible until you can’t fuck any other guy without imagining his dick.
“thank you, baby,” he grins against your neck. “can i make you feel good now?”
frat president!satoru, who decided he’d never let you fuck anyone else anyways the moment you'd nodded.
@ ttakdoll, 2026
inspired by an anon request for a shy reader!!
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