𐙚‧₊˚ old enough to remember myspace. pisces sun, libra moon, scorpio rising ☾🫧 welcome to my niche little corner of the internet, feel free to stay as long as you need ₊⊹ i mostly write for jjk and bsd but would love to explore csm as well, my inbox is always open for fic requests and suggestions, all i ask is that you're patient with me ♡ ̆̈ unless otherwise specified, the majority of my content is nsfw and does sometimes include aged up characters, if that’s not something you enjoy, no worries! you can exit here ✿ let's just keep it comfy, yeah? 𐙚‧₊˚
⋆˙⟡ mdni - ageless and underage blogs will be blocked
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18+ MDNI, aged up!megumi, perv!megumi, established relationship, solo masturbation, panty kink.
abstract, fushiguro megumi was doing a perfectly fine job at being your boyfriend. normal, respectful, composed. unfortunately, his dreams, his shikigami, and one very cute missing pair had other plans.
꣑ৎ MEGUMI HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A DECENT PERSON :)
quiet, maybe. emotionally constipated, according to nobara, which felt rude but not entirely false. he was blunt when embarrassed, painfully calm when he didn’t know what to do with his feelings, and weirdly committed to pretending he didn’t care whenever you stole his hoodies, even though he kept leaving them in places you could easily find.
then he started dating you.
and apparently, dating you had reduced him to some sort of victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.
three months into the relationship, and megumi still acted like your touch needed a warning label. you could kiss his cheek outside the campus library and he would look away like he had just been caught committing tax fraud. you could lean against his side during movie night, warm and sleepy, and his whole body would go still for half a second before he remembered that boyfriends were, in fact, allowed to be held.
you thought it was cute.
megumi thought he needed professional help.
because it wasn’t just the soft things anymore. it was the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you stretched. the way your thighs pressed together when you sat on his bed. the way you looked after training, skin warm from the sun, hair messy, laughing with your water bottle pressed to your lips like you weren’t personally dragging his self-control behind a building.
he wanted to be normal about you. really, he did. you were his girlfriend, not some divine punishment sent to test whether his dignity could survive physical affection. you deserved a boyfriend who was calm, respectful, and not quietly combusting every time you hugged him a little too close.
megumi tried very hard to be that boyfriend.
unfortunately, wanting you had started eating through his self-control like a curse with expensive taste.
the dreams came first. vivid, feverish, humiliating things that left him waking up with a harsh gasp, his hips jerking up into the mattress to chase a ghost. your voice would linger near his ear. your skin would press flush against his. your mouth would be somewhere it shouldn’t be yet, sweet and needy and completely unfair. the details always blurred as reality crashed in, but the physical aftermath was painfully clear. he’d snap awake aching and rock hard, his chest heaving in the quiet dark, the front of his sleep pants ruined and uncomfortably sticky. he would just lie there, face burning into his pillow, before dragging himself out of bed to wash the evidence away, feeling like an absolute criminal by morning.
every time, it was you.
of course it was you.
you were his first serious girlfriend. the first person he actually wanted to be good for. the first person who made him think about things he immediately wanted to bury under concrete and never speak of again. maybe, hopefully, someday you would be his first in other ways too.
the thought alone made him shove his face into his pillow and silently consider becoming religious.
oh, he was so cooked.
the worst part started after evening training.
the campus field was still warm from the afternoon sun, grass damp beneath everyone’s shoes, the air filled with the sound of yuji complaining that nobara kept aiming for his head. you had dropped your gym bag near megumi’s by the benches, half-zipped because you never really closed anything properly, then wandered off to refill your water bottle.
megumi had summoned rabbit escape for control practice. nothing serious, just a few white rabbits scattering through the grass while yuji tried not to step on them and nobara accused him of weaponizing cuteness. one of the rabbits, smaller than the rest and apparently born with no morals, hopped toward your open bag.
megumi saw the flash of pink before anyone else did.
his body went very still.
the rabbit tugged something soft from the side pocket and sat there proudly, your panties caught between its little teeth like it had just won a prize.
megumi moved so fast he almost tripped.
he scooped the rabbit up, turned his back to the field, and pulled the fabric away before yuji could glance over. his heart was beating too hard for something that was, technically, laundry. just laundry. normal laundry. laundry that absolutely should have gone straight back into your bag like a normal boyfriend with a normal brain would do.
“don’t,” he whispered to the rabbit.
the rabbit blinked.
you called his name from across the field, smiling as you lifted your water bottle. “gumi, you okay?”
megumi panicked.
he shoved the fabric into the pocket of his track jacket.
“yeah,” he called back, voice flat enough to pass as normal if nobody looked too closely. “fine.”
just for now, he told himself. he would put it back later. when nobody was looking. when his pulse stopped acting like he had robbed a bank.
꣑ৎ DECENT PERSON, MY ASS.
that night the dorm room was too quiet. megumi sat on the edge of his bed with the lights off, only the faint glow from the campus path outside slipping through the blinds. the pink panties were still in his pocket. he hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet. his fingers brushed the soft fabric when he finally reached in, and the second he pulled them out his stomach flipped.
he should throw them back in the drawer. he should wash them. he should do anything except what he was about to do.
instead he leaned back against the pillows, breath already shaky, and unfolded the delicate pink material. the little bow caught on his thumb. the scent of you—warm skin, faint floral detergent, the ghost of your body—hit him so hard his cock twitched instantly in his sweats.
“fuck… i’m sorry,” he muttered, like you could hear him. like apologizing to the empty room would make this less pathetic.
he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough, his cock springing free, already flushed and leaking. he wrapped the panties around his length slowly, the silky fabric cool against hot skin, and the first stroke pulled a quiet, broken sound from his throat. the little bow dragged under the head and his hips jerked up without permission.
megumi closed his eyes and let the thoughts flood in.
he imagined you in his lap, thighs spread over his, wearing nothing but that exact pair. the way you’d smile at him all teasing and fond when you felt how hard he was. the way you’d rock against him, grinding the soft fabric right against his cock while you kissed that spot under his jaw that always made him weak. your voice in his ear, low and sweet, calling him “gumi” like you knew exactly what you did to him.
his hand moved faster, twisting a little at the head, the soaked panties sliding obscenely over his shaft. pre-cum darkened the pink almost immediately. he pictured pushing the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your slick folds instead, hearing that tiny gasp you made whenever he touched you somewhere new. he wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay there until you were shaking. wanted to hear you moan his name while he finally pushed inside you, slow and careful and so fucking deep.
“shit— you’d feel so so hng g-good,” he whispered, voice hoarse. his strokes turned messy, desperate. the wet sound of fabric and skin filled the room and it only made him harder. “so warm… so tight… f-fuck, i want you so bad—”
the guilt twisted sharp in his chest, but it only made the heat worse. he was disgusting. he was a terrible boyfriend. and still, he couldn’t stop. he pressed the panties tighter in his fist, close enough to feel the soft fabric against his palm, imagining your hand instead, your mouth, the way you’d look up at him with that bright, wicked little smile while you took him apart.
his thighs tensed. his free hand fisted the sheets. when he felt himself getting close, some ridiculous, half-functioning part of his brain still had the nerve to panic.
not on them.
megumi jerked the fabric away at the last second like it was something precious, something he had no right to ruin, and buried his face into his forearm as the feeling hit him hard and sudden. his hips stuttered, breath breaking into a choked sound he barely managed to swallow, body trembling through every shaky wave until the room went quiet again.
for a long moment, he just lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling like it might offer judgment. it didn’t, duh.
which was rude, honestly.
the pink panties were still clutched safely in his hand, untouched and soft, still carrying that faint trace of your perfume, your laundry soap, you. megumi looked at them through half-lidded eyes, flushed and ruined and still careful enough to fold them against his chest like that somehow made any of this less insane.
megumi, once again, told himself he would return it before this got any worse.
꣑ৎ JOKE’S ON YOU.
by the next afternoon, it had gotten worse.
not because of the drills, though they were annoying. not because yuji kept trying to turn sparring into a competition no one had agreed to. worse because you were sitting beside megumi on the bench, digging through your gym bag with a frown while he wrapped tape around his wrist and pretended the top drawer in his dorm didn’t exist.
“this is actually so annoying,” you said.
megumi kept his eyes on the tape. “what is?”
“my new pink pair is gone.” you pushed aside your towel, lip gloss, and spare shirt with growing offense. “i swear i put it in here after changing yesterday. it had a little bow and everything. very cute. now it’s missing.”
megumi’s fingers paused for one single heartbeat.
“maybe you left it in your room.”
“i checked.” you sighed like you had suffered a real tragedy. “twice. i think the campus laundry ghosts have chosen me.”
“sorry for your loss.”
“thank you. i’ll need snack compensation.”
“for underwear?”
“for emotional damage.”
he looked at you then, and you looked so genuinely annoyed that guilt twisted through him, sharp and hot. you weren’t suspicious. you weren’t accusing him. you were just talking to him the way you always did, dragging him into your little complaints because he was your boyfriend and that was supposed to mean something simple and safe.
megumi swallowed.
he would return it tonight.
probably.
training picked up again after that, saving him from having to speak. the two of you sparred under the sun until sweat slid down the side of his face and his black shirt stuck lightly to his back. you were quick today, playful, laughing whenever he dodged too easily and calling him a show-off when he pinned your wrist for half a second longer than necessary.
by the time you both stopped, megumi was warm, tired, and dangerously close to forgetting how to act normal.
he turned away and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
the movement exposed his stomach.
you went quiet.
megumi lowered the fabric just enough to see you staring, eyes fixed on the lean lines of muscle along his abdomen and the sharp dip disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats. your expression changed slowly, surprise melting into something bright and wicked.
“wow, ’gumi,” you said, stepping closer. “i didn’t know you had nice abs.”
his whole body locked. “don’t say it like that.”
“like what?”
“like you’re enjoying this.”
“i am enjoying this.”
that should not have affected him as much as it did.
you reached for him before he could escape, fingertips brushing the exposed skin near his ribs. megumi’s breath hitched so quietly he prayed you didn’t hear it. your touch slid lower, still teasing, still light, tracing the firm plane of his stomach until your fingers grazed the line near his hip.
his body betrayed him immediately.
megumi caught your wrist, quick but gentle, and shifted his hips back just enough to save what remained of his dignity. you blinked up at him, then smiled like you had just discovered something valuable and planned to become a menace about it.
“sensitive?” you asked.
“annoying,” he said, voice too low.
“you’re blushing.”
“it’s hot outside.”
“mhm.” your eyes flicked down for half a second. “sure.”
he was going to die on this field.
then yuji’s voice cut through the air like divine punishment. “are you two flirting or are we training?”
megumi let go of your wrist so fast it was embarrassing.
you only laughed, bright and shameless, before stepping back like you hadn’t just put him through five stages of grief in public. nobara, of course, saw enough to make her grin sharp.
“they’re flirting,” she said. “badly, but still.”
“we’re training,” megumi muttered.
“sure,” you said, attempting to tease him. “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
it did not help him sleep at night.
꣑ৎ SPICE UP UR LIFE, COME GET A FREAK LIKE ME(GUMI)...
later that day, after practice ended, megumi returned to his dorm alone and opened the top drawer. he stared at the folded pink fabric tucked beneath one of his shirts. outside his window, campus lights glowed soft and yellow. on his desk, his phone buzzed.
y/n: still mourning the pink pair </3
y/n: she was cute, she was soft, she was taken too soon ☹
y/n: snack compensation tomorrow? ✌︎㋡
megumi stared at the message until the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
then he looked at the drawer again. “i’m a terrible person,” he muttered.
from the corner of the room, one of the rabbits twitched its nose like it agreed.
he should have shut the drawer. he really should have.
instead, megumi opened it again, slow enough that the wood barely made a sound. the pink fabric sat folded beneath one of his shirts, soft and damning, carrying the faintest trace of your scent. his fingers curled around it before he could talk himself out of it, and for one shameful second, he pressed the fabric directly over his nose and mouth. his eyes fell shut as he dragged in a long desperate breath.
your scent—warm, sweet, and intoxicatingly familiar—flooded his lungs, pulling a low, ragged groan from the back of his throat. his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.
oh, he was disgusting.
worse than that, he was hopeless.
because for all his restraint, all his discipline, all his quiet little attempts to be the perfect boyfriend you deserved, fushiguro megumi had one serious problem.
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touch-starved!megumi who never really got the hang of being affectionate. it was not that he hated it or found it embarrassing despite what yuji always said. he just honestly did not know how to deal with it most of the time. touching other people or being touched had never exactly been a regular thing for him growing up. so eventually, megumi learned how to exist without ever asking for that kind of connection.
touch-starved!megumi who slowly starts changing towards you in tiny, subtle ways. hanging around you longer than he actually needed to. relaxing the second you sit beside him after a mission. always looking a little startled every time you touch him, like some part of him still expects everyone to eventually pull away.
touch-starved!megumi who acts like none of it affects him at first. if you straighten his collar, he just blinks at you quietly. if your hands brush while passing something to him, his fingers pause for half a second too long. if you hug him unexpectedly, his whole body goes stiff before very slowly melting into the hold like his body is finally catching up to something his heart has wanted for years.
touch-starved!megumi who never asks for more, and honestly that the heartbreaking part. he never leans in first or reaches for your hand unless you do it beforehand. he never interrupts you or demands your attention. he accepts love like it is something borrowed, something temporary. almost terrified he might ruin it if he holds on too tightly.
touch-starved!megumi who comes back from a horrible mission exhausted, sitting alone in the common room with his head tilted against the sofa. uniform torn. dried blood against his jaw. looking absolutely wrecked while rain taps softly against the windows outside.
touch-starved!megumi who only opens his eyes slowly when you tell him he should sleep already, voice rough and exhausted as he quietly says, “in a minute.”
touch-starved!megumi who shifts closer after you sit beside him. barely noticeable. just enough for his shoulder to press carefully against yours. hesitant enough that it makes your chest ache because it is obvious he wants comfort but has absolutely no idea how to ask for it.
touch-starved!megumi who goes completely still when your fingers slide into his hair. for one awful second you think you crossed a line until he exhales shakily, sounding like all the tension inside him is finally draining out at once.
touch-starved!megumi who slowly leans into your touch while his eyes close again, practically melting beneath your fingers as you scratch lightly against his scalp. such a tiny movement, but somehow it feels devastating because maybe nobody has ever held him this gently before.
touch-starved!megumi who lets out a tired little laugh when you whisper that he doesn’t have to pretend he is okay all the time. he says “i know,” but he sounds like somebody hearing those words for the very first time.
touch-starved!megumi who instinctively turns his face into your palm the second your hand slides down to his cheek, like he belongs there naturally. like some hidden part of him has been starving for tenderness for years.
touch-starved!megumi who falls half asleep against you by the time the rain finally stops, one hand loosely gripping your hoodie sleeve like he thinks you might disappear if he lets go.
touch-starved!megumi who never actually asks you to stay.
he just quietly holds onto you when you do.
an: I still suck at tagging even after 4 year into this
Do you see yourself writing anymore megumi x reader or even megumi x reader x aki? Loved your writing on ao3 with both of them!!
Oh thank you 🩵🥹
I’ll definitely write again, especially for Megumi. He’s like my home base when it comes to fics lol.
This year has just been a whirlwind of very huge changes for me and I haven’t had much time unfortunately. But if you have any suggestions, feel free to send them! <3 I love seeing ideas from you guys.
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Satoru Gojo - hockey Star- loves three things - hockey, coke and women. Which is the reason his coach Sukuna wants to make sure he stays as far away from his niece - you - as possible. Raised by Sukuna after your parents passed, he is almost like a dad to you. Satoru can't help but become obsessed the moment he sees you spinning on the ice. But there's one big problem - an overbearing, grumpy one named Uncle Kuna. Is he right to protect you, or is there more to Satoru than what's on the surface?
❉pairings- hockey star! satoru x figure skater! reader
❉warnings - eventual smut, eventual angst, drug use, grumpy but loving Uncle Sukuna, shy/innocent reader, down bad Satoru - he's a bit of a hot mess at first. this chap - kissing, dry humping, mentions of sex, coke use, weed use, masturbation, obsessed Toru. wc-10.6k
this is a commissioned series for my bb @strychnynegirl ahh I am so excited! Art is a comm made for this story by @veroniicannot on IG - so no reposting, go follow her!<3
❉ headcanons ❉ playlist ❉ chapter two (soon)
chapter one
Satoru Gojo was the top hockey player there was – and with that came a ton of responsibility, when it wasn’t pressure from his parents for him to get into a pro team all of college, now it was making sure his teammates won. They were all experienced too, but Satoru was just made for the rink, he could glide on the ice like it was nothing, but he sure put in the time for it.
He was the captain of the pro team now, when their head coach was gone he was the one set to guide the other players, who all happened to be little stubborn shitheads. Satoru was leaning against the rink, watching his teammates run drills with his baby blue eyes that caught every movement, practiced and experienced, lashes as white as the ice below him taking it all in.
The sounds of blades scraping across the ice echo in his ears, mixing with the grunts of the players and the giggles of the girls who come practice figure skating, some of the boys ate it up. Satoru himself had a pretty large fanclub and even now blows them a little kiss, they all freak out and giggle, especially when Suguru executes a perfect slap shot into the top corner of the net.
“Shit, good job Sugu,” Suguru blushes when the girls start calling his name. Satoru always loves the attention but he’s a little more shy. “Kento, you’re going on offense now.”
Satoru has been on the ice since early morning as usual, yawning just a bit as he joins in, he’s pushing himself harder than anyone else as always – some nights he stays after everyone is gone and it’s all quiet, only his skates cutting through the ice making noise. Everyone saw how great he was, how natural things were to him, but it also came with thousands of hours of practice.
Day in, day out, Satoru was a perfectionist. Yet, he loved it – something freeing about focusing on the precision of his moves, wearing his body down until it’s exhausted and he can blissfully crash out for that two or three hours he gets. He loved the feeling of being utterly sore and spent, only to get up and push himself all over again – he was the best for a reason.
He glides across the ice to grab a drink, when he sees a girl he never has – not one from the ‘fanclub’ she’s completely different, quietly spinning in a pretty pirouette, He can’t stop looking at her, with those graceful movements that make it look effortless, blades carving delicate patterns on the of the ice as you glide along and make a series of jumps and spins.
Satoru can’t get his gaze off you – but then, he’s not the only one. It’s eerily quiet as the men eye the new girl, some of them commenting how pretty you are, some a little impressed with a spin you land like it’s nothing. Satoru had seen plenty of talented figure skaters before, but there was something about you that froze him in place, the cute little smile on your face when you landed a move.
The boys clap and you blush then, realizing you have an audience, a quiet little smile and wave, before going back to focusing. Satoru’s lost though, he can’t stop staring – yeah, you’re a pretty little thing, but he’s always got pretty girls in his bed. It’s not that, is it?
“She’s hot, right?” Comes one of his teammates, Satoru instantly gives him an irritated glance.
“She is pretty,” Suguru says then, smirking over at Satoru. “Oh shit, I know that look of yours.”
“What look? She’s… talented, mmkay?” They’re laughing just a bit, when Satoru sighs. “Fine, she is hot.”
“She’s my niece,” all of them turn around to see their hockey coach Sukuna skating up, crossing his arms and glaring at them now.
“Shit, your niece is hot-”
“Toji I’ll fuck your face up more,” Sukuna says, raising a brow and glaring at all of them. Sukuna used to be a hockey player himself, but now he coaches in his early thirties, he was pretty notorious for training the winning team. Everyone found him intimidating due to just how huge and angry he was, but Satoru simply raised a brow himself.
He knows he’s damn near better than Sukuna was. Sure, maybe he’s cocky, but… it was accurate.
“She’s your niece? Where’s she been?” Satoru asks curiously, you’re skating over, your eyes locked on Sukuna for a moment until you see his stance.
“Kuna –”
“Don’t call me that in front of them!?” They’re snickering, you pout just a bit, and are apparently so cute Sukuna sighs, ruffling your hair. “Don’t pull the puppy dog eyes on me, brat.”
“Be nice, hmm?” He sighs, Satoru has never seen Ryomen Sukuna soft whatsoever.
“Fine, they were saying how talented you were, right?” They all stand at attention nodding quickly, you look down shyly at all the attention, hugging your arms a bit, before smiling and looking at Satoru.
God you’re pretty.
The minute your eyes hit his, he can hardly handle whatever the fuck you’re doing to him, holding your hand out now. “You’re the captain, right?”
“Yeah that’s me,” he takes your hand with a cocky little smile, it swallows your tiny one as you tilt your head back a bit to look at him. “You are really talented out there.”
“Oh thank you so much,” a pretty blush dances across your cheeks now, your eyes looking back down. Fuck you’re cute. “You’re talented too, I’ve seen your videos all over.”
“Yeah?” Satoru grins now, skating a little closer. “You have?”
“That’s enough,” Sukuna cuts in, practically unclasping your hands now. “Let’s go talk for a minute, kid. I’ll be back to coach you little shits in a bit.”
“Sure, it was nice to meet you,” you say to Satoru, smiling a bit at him and then skating off, but you peer over your shoulder for a moment at him.
“Get your jaw off the floor, buddy.”
“Fuck off, let’s get to work…”
“Uncle Kuna, you were rude!” You’re saying, eyeing the handsome white haired player who gives you a little smile. “He seems sweet.”
“Tch, you don’t know that boy, any of those boys,” Sukuna hands you a drink and you take it thankfully. “It’s my job to look out for you, just trust me.”
“All right…” But how can you focus, when eyes that blue peer at you across the rink?
Gojo watches as you begrudgingly glide across the rink, but he just can't get that dopey grin off his face, Suguru shakes him out of it, Sukuna skates up and fucking glares at him. Yet he can’t stop looking, how you glide along the ice, spinning in pretty little circles, waving a little when you think Sukuna can’t see, just to have him standing right in front of Satoru again.
“Get to running those, now.”
“Calm down Kuna,” Satoru smacks his shoulder, grinning as Sukuna turns bright red.
“Stay away from her.”
“Why tell me that?” He raises a brow at Sukuna now. “Go tell Toji.”
“I just know your type, fuckin’ act all sweet and then not be serious, you won’t hurt her if I have anything to do with it.” Satoru sighs, grabbing his hockey stick and skating back over to his group.
If anything is known – it’s that Satoru Gojo was an absolute slut, he just loved to fuck, loved women, he loved getting his dick sucked. Why wouldn’t he enjoy all the perks of being a famous hockey player? Which absolutely included partying, snorting coke up his nostrils, having a good blunt and letting girls make out over his tip.
That didn’t mean Satoru was somehow against the idea of love or dating – he just was enjoying himself, Sukuna’s right in that he would corrupt a cute, innocent little thing like yourself. Fuck corrupting you would be so pretty though, imagining how cute you’d look learning how to take his cock – the thoughts have him hard in the middle of the fucking ice rink.
Satoru wishes anything Sukuna threatened ever sunk in – it didn’t.
*****
It’s been a week since he first saw you.
How can Satoru not come in early to watch you practice every morning, just acting like he needs more time himself, when he’s literally in peak performance. How can Satoru not just peer at you before he gets on the ice, when no one else is there, watching you so cute as you focus, as you fall and get yourself back up.
You’re goddamn adorable, he can’t stop the smile on his face anytime he catches sight of you, but he doesn’t really say anything, just waves as he practices, and the two of you are in a comfortable silence on either side of the giant ice rink. Satoru relishes every time you come by him, when you’ll skate by and ask him a question, tell him you admire his form.
Admire his form.
Satoru admires yours too, those outfits leave little to the imagination, and you’re achingly pretty, the way he can imagine wrapping his hands right around your waist… even when you practice with someone he gets furious. He hates seeing his pretty figure skater have another man spot or spin with her.
His figure skater? Has he really lost it?
He loves when you answer his questions, your shy but reserved conversation – some of the girls he hears call you stuck up, but it’s clear you’re not – even if you don’t really make friends. It’s more you’re achingly shy, and he knows it takes a lot in those moments you talk to him, when you hardly talk to anyone else.
Satoru can't help but picture you every night after you give him a little wave goodbye, when you’re in your cute little tracksuit and he gets just a hint of your tummy in his sight, a little dip of cleavage. God just your collarbones and how your hair falls when it’s out of that tight bun fuck him up – so much so fuck he strokes it to you like it's his own form of worship.
Every time he thinks he can have just a few moment with you, fucking Sukuna is there. Stomping around all angry, scowling right at Satoru, he makes sure to leave no space for Satoru to even find out more than your name and where you’re from. He’s gathered that you love to skate – of course – and that you like to read, by the books you bring in.
Old books, too, ones he googles when he gets home so he can have a hope to talk to you. Wuthering Heights is the one you always bring, so of course he studies all he can about it, bringing up oh so casually what he thinks of Heathcliff. You brightened up so pretty this morning, and he thinks that was the first time he heard your laugh, a soft little cute one.
Your nose scrunched up, all fucking adorable, and your eyes lit up as you softly agreed with him about Catherine, Satoru’s acting like he read a goddamn book from the eighteen hundreds to impress a girl. He's not sure when he got so pathetic, nor when the sight of a cute nose scrunching up started making him leak pre - but oh, it did.
He catches a glimpse of you as you’re leaving today, almost bumping right into him, your hands on his chest, his on your waist, thumbs pressing into the nip of it, the two of you pausing, eyes meeting. You get lost in his, your heart hammering in your chest, the feeling of his fingers on your skin almost intimate.
You’ve not had anyone even touch you – thanks to Sukuna always being absolutely insane about protecting you – if it wasn’t him, it was your brother Yuuji. Sukuna had practically raised you both together. He’s been off at school for a bit but he was also extremely protective of you, even though he was actually your little brother by a year.
“Hey,” he says softly, your lips part as you look at where your hand rests, feeling the beat of his heart steady underneath it. “You all right?”
“Um, y-yeah,” you can hardly talk, you’re so damn shy in general but especially around Satoru Gojo and his pretty blue eyes just looking right at you. “I’m all right, sorry…”
“Don’t apologize sweets,” you blush at the little name, he eases his hand off and you realize yours is still on him, yanking it back, he laughs just a little at that. “Headed home?”
“I am, um… it was…” Shit, you can’t talk at all, it was a little different with everyone on the rink, but just Satoru made it more difficult.
You hate being awkward.
That’s the thing about figure skating – you can be elegant, delicate and lovely, but in real life you stammered, you couldn’t talk half the time, it was all just too much, too overwhelming. Then you overthought every single word you said, replaying it over in your head, sometimes the dumbest shit that would come out of your mouth when you’re nervous would keep you up all night.
Even now he’s looking curiously and you still can’t talk. All you can think of is that cologne he’s wearing, the scent of him, how he feels so warm against you. How tall he is especially without the boost of your skates, the way he looks at you. Uncle Sukuna said all these things about him, partying and this and that, but it doesn’t deter you like it should.
He just… seems like he has a good soul.
You think you’re a good judge of that?
“I’m just standing here oh god,” he chuckles again, brushing a little lock of your hair back delicately, your heart hammers faster at the brush against your skin, feather light. “I’m sorry I’m not that um… I don’t talk alot. I know you’re trying to be friendly this week, I hope you don’t think I’m rude?”
“Not at all.” You exhale in relief. “I talk too fucking much,” you giggle then, so precious Satoru can’t stand it, hugging your body just a bit.
“No, you talk just enough, it’s nice to… I like talking to you,” you would have thought you said you wanted to kiss him, how flustered you get, trembling.
“Cold?”
“We are in an ice rink.”
“Right, that, I’m always warm,” he swipes his brow, a hint of his abdomen showing, that little v cut that almost ruins your senses. “You look flushed.”
“Oh I guess I am,” you’re shivering from being near him, trying to play it off then. “You are so great out there, especially helping Uncle Kuna.”
“I still can’t believe he’s got a little nickname,” you smile, looking down just a bit, making Satoru ache to tilt your chin up, to have a look into your pretty eyes, he almost fucking does it too, barely keeping his composure.
Since when is he nervous like this?
“There’s a party tomorrow, you should come.”
“Oh, no, I don’t do crowds and parties.”
“You… compete in front of hundreds of people?”
“Yeah, but I’m kind of alone when I do?”
“That makes sense,” he murmurs, curious about you more and more, as you put a hand tentatively to his shoulder. “Maybe another time?”
“If Uncle Kuna would ever let me,” he rolls his eyes.
“Uncle Kuna goes to those parties,” you gasp, Satoru grins. “He does it to ‘watch us’ like he’s so much older. He’s only in his thirties.”
“I know it’s hard to remember, he acts so grown up doesn’t he?”
“Nah, I’ve seen him playing beer pong, he screams grown frat boy,” you’re laughing again.
“He was one!”
“Fuckin’ called that shit,” Satoru takes your hand then and presses a little kiss to the back of your knuckles.
He’s never done that but it feels like the right move, you’re so damn pretty and sweet like some girl at a ball in the eighteen hundreds, none of that really makes sense but it does in his own mind. Plus watching you blush and your eye lashes flutter is probably the cutest thing he’s seen.
“Uncle Kuna didn’t say you were a gentleman.”
“I’m so not,” he lets your hand go, smirking and slipping his hands in his pockets then. “I am probably not that bad as he says though. He always has it out for me.”
“He seems really proud of you too though! Don’t tell him I said it,” Satoru pauses, cheeks reddening a bit.
“Are you in town for a while?”
“I’m staying with him and my brother for a bit. Actually, I was living in the dorms during college, but I want to try to get more practice, more… professional?”
“You look like a pro,” you smile and giggle all fucking cute. “You do.”
“Thank you Satoru,” you both walk towards the front doors now, the air is even chillier with the winter breeze, both of you slinging on your jackets. Satoru looks almost ethereal with the way the moonlight hits his face. “Good night.”
“See you uh, tomorrow?” You smile and wave, and Satoru can’t take that damn dopey grin off his face.
*****
Satoru's snorting a line up his nose as the music hums and the room is filled with everyone dancing that night. He's got a girl on either side of him giggling, both of their hands just touching on him, they’re pretty and he enjoys them usually, but for whatever reason he feels…
Off.
“Gimme a line, shit,” Toji’s big ass sits next to him and Satoru rolls his blue eyes, snatching one of the girls right onto his lap. “Wanna snort one off her.”
“My premium coke? You owe me,” Satoru watches as Toji lines that snow up on the girl, the other one leaning close with her lips against Satoru’s ear.
“Mmm, can you do one off me?”
“I can,” he’s chuckling and sprinkling powder right on her, leaned over with his nose brushing her skin, hand on her waist.
That’s what you walk into – so nervous to go to a party, but your friends on the team convinced you how fun it would be, just to catch sight of Satoru Gojo’s tongue lapping up a pretty skater’s neck. You know her somewhat, she’s pretty and sweet, giggling so loudly you can hear her even over the music rushing in the large house.
Suguru’s house apparently.
“Hey there,” he is the one who greets you, standing in front of the view you have of Satoru and those girls, the feeling so odd.
You don’t even know Satoru, how could you care if he was with someone?
“Hi, Suguru, right?” He smiles and takes your hand, a little kiss on the back of it making you flush. “I don’t think we formally met.”
“We haven’t yet, I’m glad you came,” he gestures around. “Please help yourself to anything at all, would you like a drink?”
“Yes please,” he nudges his head and you follow him around, Satoru’s gaze catching yours as he’s laughing, snorting another line off her, he falters just a bit, his lips parting. You just sort of give a small smile and avert your gaze – something about seeing him like that feels a little too intimate to witness.
You didn’t know he had a girlfriend or…
Two girlfriends?
“Here, something sweet,” Suguru pours you a little glass of wine, much different than the beer in everyone’s hands or the liquor lined up.
“How’d you know I’m not a drinker?” You ask, he just shrugs a shoulder, corking the bottle.
“A guess is all, I know these parties get a little crazy, just tell me if anyone bothers you, yeah? I’ll kick them out.”
“Thank you,” you place a hand on his shoulder, before clearing your throat and smiling, noticing Satoru walking your way, the girl tugging at his light blue jersey. “Is that his girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? Oh, no he doesn’t…”
Satoru’s right in front of you, hands in his pockets, smiling in that way only he can, you see the smallest hint of residue on his plump lips, which he laps off with a flick of his tongue. “You came! I didn’t uh… think you would?”
“I did come,” you look down a bit nervously, clearing your throat and smiling now, sipping on the wine. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“Eh I guess,” he rubs the back of his neck, shifting a bit and looking at Suguru. “Got her the good stuff, huh?”
“Mhm, I’ll let you two talk,” he smiles at you as he walks away, Satoru is close to you – too close, you can inhale that scent in your nostrils, something just him.
You can’t be jealous of someone you don’t know.
You plaster on a pretty smile now, sipping the sweet drink. “You don’t have to come entertain me.”
“I invited you and it’s not… I don’t have to…” Fuck, why does he get tongue tied like this? “I uh… I really wanted to see you.”
“You did?” His big grin is your answer, leaning on the counter and ignoring the girls who try to call him over. “I think you’re kind of popular.”
“Yeah well they’re fine,” he takes your drink and sips it, putting his lips right where you had, his eyes darkening as they study you over the rim. “Mmm, yummy.”
Fuck.
Gojo’s licking his lips and doing insane things to your tummy, fluttering like there’s a million butterflies, he steps closer to you, brushing your hair back. “You really came.”
“I did,” you laugh softly when the music shifts.
“Wanna dance?”
“Oh um,” you flush and sip your wine, clearing your throat just a bit. “Are you sure you wanna dance with me?”
“That’s why I asked,” he sets his cup down, taking your glass and putting it in the fridge, you blink curiously. “Safer in there, a lot of people here tonight.”
You blink a bit curiously, tilting your head. “Safer?”
“From…” He trails off, taking your hand. “Guys can drug drinks, no one on my team would but other players? There’s some really horrible men, even if I haven’t personally seen it happen – I've heard shit.”
“You’re keeping my drink safe,” you melt as he shrugs as if that’s just something normal – so caring you ache.
Sukuna and Yuuji care for you but they’re family – Satoru is still a stranger.
“No big deal sweetheart.”
“It’s really sweet of you,” he gets a little flustered, tugging you into the enormous living room, with vaulted ceilings and fancy, modern chandeliers hanging. You look up in wonder at them, so pretty then, they’re glowing right along your face, and for a moment his breath is smacked out of his lungs.
Satoru could just stare at you all day.
“It’s so pretty,” you sigh now – blinking just a bit as your gaze is captured.
To be engrossed in a chandelier when everyone around him was just snorting coke, drinking, smoking…
“It’s very pretty,” he agrees, looking right at you. You catch sight of it and look back down nervously, biting your lip. “Hey, look at me.”
You raise your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. “I suck at eye contact.”
“I’ll help you,” he turns you around in a little circle, tugging you against his hard body, making you melt. “It’ll help with skating when you’re competing, being able to look at the crowd.”
“That’s true, oh sorry!” You stumble a bit so he just picks you up, you gasp at that, you’ve had partners pick you up countless times but not like this, just spinning you and holding you up with your feet dangling.
“A figure skater who can’t dance? That’s insane baby,” you laugh as he sets you down on your feet, feeling the eyes of those girls now. “What is it?”
“I don’t think they like me,” you murmur, Satoru looks back at them and frowns just a bit. “They’re scowling.”
“Nah, they just…” He doesn’t even know what to say, he’s forgotten their names again. “Just curious about you.”
“You’re so different from what Sukuna says,” he snorts now, rolling his eyes and turning you, tugging your back against him. “He says you’re a menace.”
“Well I am,” you snort a bit, and he chuckles, feeling the curve of your ass pressing on his thighs. “You don’t think I’m a menace?”
“You just seem thoughtful and kind,” he pauses now, those words aren’t typically what people say.
Even though Satoru was kind, they typically just saw the confidence, the arrogance, the ego hiding so much. He pauses a bit and then grips your hips, moving them, his lips brushing against your ear as he bends down. “Move those hips like you do on the ice.”
You’re so nervous – people are looking at you two, if Sukuna found out he’d probably lock you up in your room, but you’re not going to tell Satoru no, you want to listen to him. His soft little commands are overwhelming, hips rocking back against him and then around with his guidance, your head falling back against his chest as you move with him.
“There you go,” his words are like honey, sweeter than the wine on your tongue, just those few sips already rushing through your body, heated up by him. “Turn and show me what ya got.”
You turn and look at him in those pretty blue eyes, earning his pleased grin, his lashes lowered as he leans down, tugging you against him again. “Everyone’s looking at us.”
“Mhm,” you start moving with him, finding his own rhythm, every little brush of his fingers igniting something inside you. “Feel the music, like you do in a routine.”
You close your eyes and feel it like he says, the music thrumming, the tingles that shoot out from the way his hands grip your hips, you’re rolling your hips without his help soon enough, body moving right with him. As if he’s your partner lifting you and guiding you during your moves, the way he spins you makes you dizzy, having you face him once more.
Your eyes flutter open and this pretty smile hits your face, making Satoru grin right with you, laughing softly just a bit, the girls are still murmuring about you, but at the moment you really can’t care. You feel so pretty with how Satoru just looks at you, though you wonder…
How much of this is just him?
Just charming Satoru Gojo who does this with everyone? Were others used to or immune to it? You find it nearly impossible to be.
“You’re doing it on your own, see? Look at you moving like that,” the way he’s talking hits something inside you, making your core burn up, your thighs clench together, every word shooting right between them. “Doing s’good.”
He’s muffling his words, spinning you again, lips now pressed against your cheek as he leans down, brushing against your skin. “You think so, Gojo?”
“Call me Satoru,” he corrects, his hand splaying your tummy, picturing how he’ll be able to see himself inside it, feeling fucking filthy. “Of course I think so.”
“I um… really…” The song comes to a halt and Toji steps up on the table, you swear it’ll break he’s so damn big, shouting at everyone.
“All right you drunk fucks,” everyone laughs at him, Satoru simply rolls his eyes, hands falling off your waist ever so slightly. “Time for us all to chug.”
“Chug?” You ask softly, Satoru sighs, fucking Toji ruining his moment with you for him to chug beer – Satoru hates beer.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back though okay?” You nod and he rushes over, as if he’s dying to get it over with, when the two girls who had glared daggers at you are on either side of him. He seems a little tense, but he doesn’t move, he just takes the can Suguru hands him, putting it to his lips.
You just met Satoru Gojo. You can’t go having all these feelings for a man who is a stranger, especially the gnawing jealousy as the girls all half naked are bouncing around, making you question your attire. Were you too prim and proper? Was Satoru into a more… bold woman?
Why do you care so damn much already?
Satoru, of course was in his element, he finishes his beer with a speed faster than everyone, slamming the can down before anyone else could – even Toji. “Hah, won like always.”
“Swear you take dick down your throat,” Toji grumbles, Satoru snorts in laughter, blowing him a kiss.
“You wish, baby boy.”
“Ugh,” everyone is laughing and cheering, you’re just watching ever curiously, smiling when his eyes find yours in the crowd, all twinkling and so pretty you forget the girls next to him.
The girl in the crop top on the left fists her hands in his jersey, pulling him down for a messy kiss.
You saw him kissing that girl earlier and… it was fine, you guess, but something about this one after he danced with you…
Fuck you think too much into things.
He was having fun, you’re planning some romantic love – you’ve always had your head in the clouds, you suppose now is no different, your heart just fucking hurts though. He pushes her off him and clears his throat as you rush over to the kitchen, dying to drink that wine suddenly.
What was wrong with you?
“Hey… easy,” Satoru’s annoyed as shit, but how can he explain to a girl he just had in his lap grinding on him that you’re here, and he only wants to talk to you, to look at you.
It’s insane, whatever it is you do to his mind, he feels bad for a moment when she pouts. “But Satoru, I was hoping you’d come home with us.”
“Both of us,” the other girl bounces over right next to her, and normally Satoru would be all about fucking two pretty women, seeing them fuck.
What was wrong with him?
His eyes go to find yours and he sees you over there talking to Suguru, who brushes a lock of your hair back, it’s nothing lewd or forward – it’s sweet if anything, but it stabs him right in the fucking chest. Your eyes meet his and lower when these girls kiss on him, something he’s never felt embarrassed or ashamed about. It’s not like Satoru has ever even dated a girl.
All he does is party, fuck, play hockey, repeat. Countless girls on him, underneath him, sucking him down, fighting over who could swallow his cum first, never has he had a moment to question it. Anything to fill those lonely times, those thoughts when he’s all alone in his home, and he feels that loneliness, that exhaustion.
Never has he felt so goddamn mad his friend is laughing with a girl, the friend he’s fucked girls with, he wants to smack his goddamn hand.
“I gotta go, not tonight,” he mumbles, rushing toward the kitchen, hands in his pockets and smiling at Suguru and you, as if everything is fine. “Sorry about that, they’re fucking clingy.”
“They like you alot,” you murmur, Satoru just blinks a bit, lips parted. “You don’t have to hang out because you invited me, have fun.”
“What!? No, not at all,” his phone starts buzzing like crazy, he puts it on silent, reading all the messages from girls asking him to come over.
“Satoru’s the most popular,” Suguru says, not in a mean way, it’s sweet if anything. “Me not so much.”
“What? Everyone was gushing about both of you,” Suguru blushes and you giggle, you’re not used to someone blushing as bright as you do.
“I am not as good with attention.”
“I love attention,” Satoru grins and you giggle just a bit, before noticing the lipstick stuck to his mouth – an obnoxious glitter. “Have something on my face?”
“Yeah,” you lean forward and swipe the glitter off his lips, he sucks in a breath at the act, before he sees all the glitter on your finger. “Your girlfriends are sparkly.”
“Not girlfriends,” he grabs another drink and downs it, cursing internally, feeling like he’s already fucked it up somehow, even if you’re smiling and just sipping your drink. Suguru is enamored with you, he doesn't even look Satoru's way.
Maybe when Suguru asked if he thought you were pretty he should have admitted it and not deflected.
“Well I'm glad if I didn't ruin your fun or anything,” he curses internally. He invited you here but he didn't take into account who you are.
You're different from anyone here and he'd never want to change that, but how did he think you'd fit into such a crowd? Of course you'd talk to a much calmer person like Suguru amidst the chaos.
Yet he wanted you here.
“Not at all, I'm always partying. I promise I'm not missing out,” he clears his throat now, when Choso walks over to them. He's related to Sukuna so of course he knows you, immediately giving you a hug.
“Hey! Oh god, Sukuna is gonna kill you,” you sigh and nod, covering your face.
“I know, don't tell him!” He holds up two fingers.
“Secret is safe from me, plus it'll do you some good to get out,” he looks at Satoru and Suguru now. “I'm glad you're with them and not some randoms though, in that case I'd have to snatch you out of here.”
“If you're Sukuna's nephew…” Suguru – stoned already – tries to put two and two together as he looks between you both. “And you're his niece… How many does Sukuna have?”
“A lot,” Choso admits, lips twitching up with amusement. “Our family is all over the place,” he sighs now. “You know Yuuji is joining the team soon?”
“Yes he's so excited! Choso you should come over for dinner sometime?”
“I can soon,” he tugs out a blunt then, smirking. “Do you partake or is this too crazy?”
“I haven't before,” you blush a bit. “Will it mess me up?”
“Nah it's more calming, but I'll leave it up to you,” someone starts shouting for him, Choso was absolutely the plug of the hockey team. “Here, give it to them or smoke it, no pressure. Just be careful when you get home. Sukuna used to cuss me out when he caught me.”
You smile at him and nod, taking the blunt curiously, looking at the two men. “Um have you all…”
They chuckle. “Maybe every night before bed?” Suguru says, you giggle at that, handing it to him.
“I also partake, but it can make you a little dizzy,” Satoru says softly, looking over at Suguru. “We should do this in private, she's already got a couple fan girls and I don't want any drama for her.”
“Fangirls?” You ask, Suguru tops off your wine then gestures for you to follow them both.
“As in – they're jealous of you,” Suguru answers, leading you up the stairs into his room. “Try not to let that all get to you too much.”
“I do feel they think I'm stuck up,” you mumble, heart racing when Satoru's hand rests on the small of your back for a moment, helping you avoid a very drunk partygoer stumbling all around. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” his touch feels far too good – but a part of you tries to remember the kisses he got, the glitter on his skin. He is probably someone who doesn't date, and your heart couldn't take anything casual. Even if it's difficult not to react to any touch or look.
“It'll be quieter in here,” Suguru looks at you then. “Are you comfortable coming in my room?”
“Yes,” you murmur. You've heard only good things about Suguru – a gentleman by even Sukuna's words, and you already feel comfy with Satoru.
Sukuna would kill you if he knew you were gonna smoke a blunt at a party in their room. Something about that mixes you with panic and a little thrill – you're always such a good girl, a little fun is exciting as it is scary.
“Have a seat,” Suguru takes the chair, you and Satoru sit at the edge of his bed – your thighs brushing against each other as Suguru takes the blunt and lights it up, inhaling and tilting his head back a bit. “What do you think – first party and all?”
“I don’t know if it’s really my scene,” you admit softly, Satoru feels just a little bit of guilt for inviting you, but you’re quickly smiling at him. “I’m glad I came, though.”
“Yeah?” He exhales almost in relief when you nod, smiling a bit, your legs crossing, that cute little skirt slipping up your thighs.
“Good, though I’d suggest being very careful,” Suguru says, leaning forward and handing you the blunt. “I don’t want Sukuna to lose his shit, but also parties other than ours? Get really rowdy, especially Naoya’s.”
“Oh, is that the blonde guy? He’s…”
“A dick?” Satoru finishes, you blush now. “It’s okay, we all hate him too, just a hell of a player.”
“He was kind of lewd with his… he hit on me and…”
“What?” Satoru glares, Suguru clears his throat, standing and holding your hand in his, smiling.
“Want me to show you how?” You nod, realizing that you’re still holding the burning blunt in your fingers. “Put it to your lips and suck, just enough to fill your mouth – not so much that you feel sick, all right?”
“Yes,” with his help you wrap your lips around the blunt, inhaling just a bit, the smoke filling you too thick, you immediately cough. “Oh!”
“You all right?” Suguru and Satoru both touch your back carefully, you nod and pass it to Satoru, he takes a big drag of it, filling his lungs – even that is attractive honestly, your heart is racing just being so close to him.
“When did Naoya hit on you?” Satoru asks, passing the blunt back over to Suguru, blue eyes focusing on you.
“The other day, ‘nice ass new girl’ and he asked me to come over, got all offended because I didn’t respond… I was just too nervous and it made me…”
“Surprised Sukuna hasn’t beat him,” Suguru says, handing it to you with a frown.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I’ll say something,” Satoru’s words make you inhale just a little too much of the blunt this time.
You’re coughing all delicate, even that’s cute, Satoru notices, Suguru curses then when his phone starts going off. “What is it, Sugu?”
“The same shit as always – speaking of the little shit, Naoya and Toji are fighting.”
“Again?”
“Yep, I gotta go break the shit up before they destroy my place.”
“Fuck,” Satoru tenses just a bit, seeing you still coughing a little. “Need me to help?”
“Nah it’s fine,” Suguru leans down a bit. “Are you all right here, love?”
“Yes,” you clear your throat and smile. “I don’t think I can handle smoking very well.”
“You took a hit like a champ,” he ruffles your hair affectionately, before doing the same to Satoru, making him glare. “I’ll see you two downstairs, but wait a bit – that shit is gonna get rowdy. Just let me know if you need anything, okay? Water, food, a ride – don’t be shy to ask me or Satoru.”
“Oh,” you blush at how thoughtful the two men are. “Thank you, Suguru.”
“Good luck with ‘em,” Satoru grumbles, Suguru walks out and shuts the door behind him quickly, you faintly hear just a bit of the rowdiness in the huge home Suguru has, muffled once more by the door.
You’re alone with Satoru Gojo.
“Are you all done, sweetheart?” He asks, holding the blunt to his lips and inhaling the thick plume of smoke, blowing it upward after holding it in.
“I think I suck at taking hits,” he smiles and shakes his head, a hand brushing back a little tendril of hair. “It’s very new to me.”
“You don’t suck at all, here you can… I can breathe the smoke in your mouth, it’s less that way? But only if you’re okay with it,” you blush furiously, and he notices.
“Wouldn’t that be a kiss?”
“It would be a kiss,” he whispers, leaning closer now, fingertips brushing against your cheek.
“I don’t want to kiss that glitter,” you glare a little and he laughs, shaking his head and slipping chapstick out of his pocket, swiping it on. “Hmm, I don’t know, I think I see a little bit.”
“I swear I don’t want their glitter on me,” he pauses, lips parted just a bit, taking your hand in his. “Wipe it all off real good, the slutty glitter.”
You giggle, the smoke and drinks rushing through your system, coming close and swiping the remaining sparkles off his lips, until you’re achingly close, your thigh almost over his on the bed. His hand brushes against it, swallowing nervously as you lean close to him, and the blunt is still in his hands, burning out slowly.
Should you tell him you’ve never kissed? What would he think, you in your early twenties and not a single one? A lot of it was Sukuna, but a lot of it was your shyness, the way you didn’t open up to people easily. Yet thinking of kissing those soft lips has butterflies rushing through your tummy, has you so dizzy as he looks into your eyes the way only Satoru Gojo can.
But could you remember that he’s not serious like that? Could you just kiss him to do it, when you’re a little hopeless romantic?
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he murmurs then, hand slipping higher, thumb brushing little circles on your thigh, making you soaking wet – to the point it’s embarrassing. His gaze flickers down your body for a brief moment, sighing just a bit. “I didn’t invite you here to get anything like this from you, I get that you’re…”
“What, Satoru?”
He swallows again, leaning closer. “Innocent, sweet, off limits… I want you to have some fun but I don’t want you to think that’s what I asked you here for.”
“Why did you ask me?” You ask then, he sighs, nose almost brushing against yours.
“Call me very curious about you, who you are, what makes you tick… I am achingly curious about you, pretty little figure skater,” you blush even more, and he chuckles a bit. “Your cheeks are burning hot.”
“You think I’m…”
“Pretty? Yeah,” his lips press your cheek, feeling the warmth against them, and you ease even more onto his thigh, until he can almost feel your heat. “Who doesn’t think you’re pretty?”
“I um… wanna try the…”
“Shotgun?”
“It sounds like trouble,” he laughs softly, bringing the blunt to his lips and looking at you under those white lashes.
“I’ll inhale it and blow into your mouth, you keep it in as long as you can, but don’t make yourself dizzy,” you nod and he tugs you firmly on his lap now, your hands on his shoulders, breath caught at the proximity.
You’re on Satoru Gojo’s lap – you, top figure skater, achingly close against the top Hockey star.
But right now, you’re just a boy and a girl, and Satoru for all his experience looks very boyish right now, blushing himself as he inhales the smoke, and his hand entangles in your hair. You lean down, your lips against his for the first time, feeling the smoke blow into your mouth in a cloud, his hand snaking around to the small of your back as he blows.
Your first kiss is with Satoru Gojo.
He pulls back and you blow the smoke out, but his eyes are different – lidded and sultry, his lips parted just so, glossy from your own. He kisses you once more, tugging you even further on him, and your eyes flutter shut, rocking into the sensation of him, getting high off his kisses, when his tongue swipes in, you pause – pulling back and gasping.
“Too far?” He murmurs, setting the blunt on the ash tray near the bed, leaning just a bit as you cling to him, you fall just a bit further as he loses his balance, now on his back with you on him.
“I’m so sorry…” You whisper, he leans up on his elbows, hands on your thighs, taking them over. “I um… it wasn’t too far.”
“No, you sure?” He asks softly, you’re pushed to the center of the bed looking down at him, feeling just how hard he is.
You’ve seen things, read things, but you don’t know what’s real and what is for fiction or for show, suddenly so nervous, but you lean forward and kiss him again, intoxicated from his lips. The cherry chapstick seeps onto your tastebuds, when he flicks his tongue against yours again, moaning.
“I haven’t kissed,” you whisper, shutting your eyes in embarrassment, Satoru’s quiet. “I know, how haven’t I? It’s so… em-”
“It’s cute,” he cuts you off and answers softly, cupping your face with one hand as he sits up. “Hey, look at me.”
You do just that, and suddenly Satoru feels something he can’t place, some sort of protective feeling towards you – just as much as he wants to corrupt you, have you arch for him, ride his face. Another part wants to make sure you’re sweet like this forever, to not ruin that part of you, the little innocent one that’s looking at him so trusting then.
Was Satoru any good for you? Sukuna was right about one thing, he wasn’t serious about anything but hockey, but how can he not want to show you how to kiss? How can he not want to claim your lips first and drink your sighs, feel the gentle weight of you on his hips, your thighs pressing tightly – all those years of training he can feel underneath his fingertips.
“You’re precious,” he muses out loud, you giggle and shake your head. “Why’d you pick me, for the first kiss? Isn’t that a big deal to you?”
“Yeah it is,” your words are soft and breathy, he can feel your heat rushing against his cock, the one aching to slam inside you – but he can hold himself back, he has to hold it all down. “It feels right to kiss you, is that really odd to say? Am I sounding high already?”
He laughs softly, shaking his head and letting his lips brush against the tip of your nose. “No sweetheart, I think if you feel something you should be able to say it to me. Do you want me to show you how to kiss?”
“Could you?” You ask carefully, biting on your lip and drawing his attention to it. “I am afraid I won’t be very good at it like…”
“Yeah no need to compare yourself,” he already knows you’re beyond those girls – he should feel bad that he suddenly doesn’t care about the fun he had with them, maybe he will later.
Right now he just wants to kiss every inch of your cute little body – but for this very moment, he leaves it to your lips, pressing again and sighing, precum leaking and making his cock stick to his boxers. You exhale and lean into the kiss, rocking your hips and then pausing.
“I don’t know why they’re doing that,” he laughs softly, drunk off just the way you’re looking up at him.
“Dancing like earlier,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on them, his thumbs pressing against your pelvis and feeling you rock once more. “Does it feel good?”
“Too good,” you pause your hips with a shaky breath. Satoru looking at you like this, kissing you like this? How badly could it hurt you, if you fall the way you think you already are? “Um how do I… your tongue… I’ve only seen people do it.”
“Ah, you just move it along till we find a rhythm,” he kisses you again, tongue slipping in your mouth, tilting his head as his snowy lashes flutter shut, tickling your cheeks, they’re so long. “Try to move it.”
“Okay,” you tentatively move your tongue against his, matching the movements – his tongue is long compared to your little pink one, taking your mouth over like he’s drinking you. “Mmm…”
It's awkward at first when you try, going too fast, too slow, like a routing where you’re just learning the movements, but Satoru is patient, he doesn’t push it, pulling back and laughing softly, pressing kisses on the corners of your lips. He guides you, his tongue stroking yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm that takes your breath.
You’re mad that anyone ever kissed Satoru – and you know that’s toxic, you know it’s insanity when you both aren’t together, but you feel it anyway, as your hips start moving again, grinding against his cock which just keeps thickening. You can feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of your panties, already soaked, dripping onto his dark blue jeans.
Satoru groans into your mouth, his hands tightening on your hips bruisingly, pulling back to gasp for a breath, his pupils blown out. "Fuck…”
“Good? Bad?” He laughs and shakes his head.
“Little too good,” he winces when you move again, knowing he’s going to be aching when you leave, gonna have to jerk his cock to you.
Not like he hasn’t already.
Several times.
“You’re a natural at it,” he murmurs, kissing your chin, down your jaw, your lashes flutter shut when his lips touch the nape of your neck, making you cry out – this sexy sound that fucking ruins him. “You sound like that from a kiss on the neck?”
“Mnh,” you whine out again, his lips burning hot on your skin, like he’s kissing little memories all over them, your hands entangle in his white locks, soft and fluffy in your touch, his hand slipping up to grip a breast. “Ah!”
“You have no idea what you're doing to me sweetheart,” he’s damn near babbling, so lost in your natural sensuality, you don’t even realize the chokehold you have him in with every breath. The weight of your pretty tit feels perfect in his palm, thumb brushing a circle around your nipple as he teeth nip your ear. “Wonder how you sound if I kiss you here, and here, and here….”
Satoru’s lips trail down, your bare shoulder, his other hand slides up your back, underneath that top, his long, calloused fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You arch into his touch, your nipple so sensitive, you’re getting dizzy from him, head falling to the side for more of his hungry kisses, the flicks of his tongue, the scraping of his teeth.
“Satoru…”
“God,” he murmurs your name before he finds your lips, searing a kiss right on your mouth once more, until the both of you can’t breathe. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
“M-make me…”
“You don’t have to touch me,” he whispers, hands slipping back down to your thighs, eyeing the slick that’s dripping down them. “You’re soaked, baby.”
Baby.
Fuck.
You’re so dizzy now, it can’t just be Satoru – not when the room is starting to whir, and you gasp out, pausing with your nails pressing into his shoulders, Satoru looks up at you now, brows drawn together. “Hey, are you all right sweetheart?”
"Everything's... spinning a little,” you whisper, his hands are on your face instantly, his expression shifting from heady desire to worry immediately.
"Hey, look at me, I’m right here, yeah? Am I spinning too?”
You try to focus on his pretty blue eyes, but they even seem to be swirling. "Yeah, just... maybe the blunt? Or wine? I feel a little dizzy."
His thumb is stroking your cheek gently in little circles, as he takes a breath, willing his cock to go so he can focus on making sure that you’re all right. "Okay, that's enough for tonight, yeah?”
“Oh but I… wanted to…”
Satoru smirks now, easing you off his lap, little gossamer strands of slick pulling and dissolving from your panties to his cock where you’re connected. When you see the mess you made and cover your face, horrified, Satoru just looks at you curiously, brushing back your hair.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry, oh god,” he looks down at the wet patch you left and grins, a devious little grin then.
“That?” He uses his thumb to brush the slick you left, glistening with an embarrassing amount of your arousal.
“Don’t make it worse! It’s already – ah… hah you’re… um…” You can’t speak when he sucks your arousal off his fingertip, lips wrapping around it, moaning and shutting his eyes as his cheeks hollow.
He’s tasting your cunt right off his pants.
“Fuck,” he’s looking right at you again, lids heavy like he’s as fucked up as you are on him. “You’re so sweet.”
“I am?” He laughs again softly, nodding. “You tasted me?”
“Mhm.”
“Can I taste you?”
“Dear god,” you blush now as he groans, laying back on the bed for a moment and covering his eyes. “You can’t say that, looking all pretty and fucked out already, I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“I just thought if you taste me –”
“Come here,” he tugs you down for one more kiss, you land on his chest and he tilts your chin, exhaling, his breath tickling your lips. “Another time maybe, yeah? Driving me insane.”
“Am I?” You’re so fucking cute you clearly don’t know you have Satoru Gojo of all people about to cum in his damn pants.
“Very,” his hand runs down your arm carefully. “Lemme take you home.”
“You’ve been drinking though?”
“I don’t drive,” you blink curiously and Satoru chuckles. “Driver, he takes me wherever. I can take you home and head to my place.”
“Is it out of the way?”
“Not at all, you’re staying with Sukuna, yeah?”
“For a bit, till I get my own place out here yeah,” he nods and soon he’s fixing your outfit so no one could tell you’d had it scrunched up, tugged down.
“Did you eat today?”
“Uh,” you frown when you all step into the cool air after leaving the party and saying good bye to Suguru. “I think I ate a string cheese.”
“What now?” He frowns at you. “And you trained?”
“I ate some cereal this morning!”
“No wonder you’re dizzy, your girl dinner shit,” you laugh at that, stepping into the back of the car with him. “You have to eat if you drink, and you really should eat with how much you train.”
“I kind of forgot,” you admit softly, fiddling with your skirt, you’re so close to him in the backseat, and you can feel those butterflies all over again. “So those girls… they’re not your girlfriends?”
“No sweetheart, and no deflecting from the fact I’m getting you food,” he leans forward and pulls aside the partition, telling him where to go.
“Do you um… date, Satoru?”
“I um,” he rubs the back of his neck now, sighing. “Not really, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn't, I just… haven’t.”
“Same I haven’t either,” he smiles softly at you. “Though I didn’t have fun quite like you.”
“That’s okay, no need to be a slut like me,” you giggle and the sound is so cute he thinks he’d like to hear it every damn day. “How about if you eat really good all week for me, we sneak a date next weekend? It will be a first for us both.”
“A date?” You’re a blushing mess now, his own heart is racing.
Satoru hasn’t gone on a date – he’s fucked so many women, he’s had drinks, gone to their place, had them over. Small talk, not just sex, aftercare of course, but he’s never just gone out. Where would he take you, what did you like? And most importantly, how the fuck could he not let Sukuna know?
He’s a walking dead man if he knew his niece had her cunt soaking Satoru’s clothed cock tonight.
“A date, I’d like it,” you frown a bit then. “But Uncle Kuna…”
“Yeah, we’ll have to be pretty discreet,” he mumbles, you two stop and he orders you both food out the window quickly. “I think he’ll kill me if he knows we take one.”
“He will,” you sigh and take the fry he hands you, nibbling it from his fingers. “Oh I never get fast food! Sukuna’s always making healthy, protein-filled blah blah.”
“That’s good but for the weed munchies? Greasy fries,” you’re giggle as he feeds you carefully, and Satoru doesn’t know how the fuck he’ll not take every bit of time you want to give him.
He wishes he felt bad that you’re Sukuna’s niece.
He really doesn’t though, not when you’re taking a little bite of a burger and he’s dabbing your lips, smirking at you. “You’re stoned, baby.”
“Shit, I am,” you sigh and shake your head, sipping on the coke now. “I don’t think I’ll smoke again.”
“That’s probably a good idea, especially if you’re not used to it,” he sips from the same drink, lips wrapping the straw, you swipe a little drop off his lips, making him pause. “Dangerous, sweetheart.”
“Dangerous, hmm?”
“Very,” he sets down the food and cups your face, kissing your lips, sighing. “Not much is stopping me from having you cum on my fingers tonight aside from you being dizzy.”
“Oh? Oh,” your mind is flitted with filthy images as the car stops.
“And Sukuna killing me, but I think it’d be worth it to hear you moan,” you bite down on your lower lip, earning his frustrated little moan, tugging it from the grip and kissing you once more. “Get some rest, yeah? No date if I catch you calling a string cheese a meal.”
“Yes, sir,” your words about fuck him up more, sneaking one little kiss and smiling. “Tonight was so much fun, Satoru, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he shouldn’t be thanked when he wants to drag you right back on his lap. “Good night sweetheart.”
“Good night.”
You’re all giggling and blushing when you walk inside – just for Sukuna and Yuuji to be sitting at the dining room table, both looking at you. Yuuji, with worry, Sukuna is fucking scowling at you.
“Uh, Yuuji, you are here! Yay!”
“Yeah I flew in tonight,” you rush over and hug him, and get a little dizzy once more, he frowns, leaning back and looking at you. “Are you all right?” He whispers, as if Sukuna won’t hear.
“She’s drunk, are you drunk young lady!?”
“No sir!” You stiffen up and he snorts, rolling his ruby red eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you lying, brat?”
“Yes sir,” you mumble now, shoulders falling just a bit. “I only had two glasses of wine, I’m just a lightweight.”
“Wine at that party?”
“How’d you know?”
“So you did!”
“Ugh,” you go over to the fridge and grab a cold water, downing it in greedy gulps, for your uncle to scoff. “What?”
“You’re stoned too?”
“How do you know!?”
“Okay – I’m gonna sleep guys, aha,” Yuuji waves and rushes off, leaving you to the wolves, Sukuna walks right up to you, grabbing the water.
“Uncle Kuna…”
“Don’t Uncle Kuna me and bat your lashes,” his jaw tenses, filling your water with electrolyte powder. “I won’t have you hungover tomorrow.”
“Oh,” he shakes it up then hands it back, you take it gratefully, pouting and looking at the bottle. “I am sorry I went to the party, just I’ve never been to one, and I wanted so badly to see what it was all about.”
“And did you enjoy it?” You smile now, and he scowls again. “Let me guess – Satoru Gojo invited you.”
“No!” Sukuna raises a brow, making you roll your eyes. “I hung out with him and Suguru, but they were very polite.”
“Uh huh I’m sure, I swear if they harm a hair on your head–”
“I’m not a baby,” your words hit then, he frowns and looks away, making you sigh, shutting your eyes and hugging the big man tightly. “Uncle Kuna, I know you just care.”
“I have to take care of you kids,” you nod and swallow down emotions, as he pats your back. “You’re still a baby, you just think you’re grown.”
“Says such an ‘old wise man’.”
“I am.”
“You’re not much older than me,” he frowns and ruffles your hair.
“You smell like loud ass blueberry weed, I know that was fucking Choso, I’ll beat him too.”
“No you won’t,” you glare and he just tugs you tighter, squeezing you to death in his form of affection. “I won’t smoke again, but can I get credit for being twenty-two before I did?”
“No you can’t,” you’re unceremoniously shoved off him now. “Get your ass to bed, I will not let you sleep in, you have that new trainer.”
“All right, fine…” You kiss his cheek and he hides his smile, before he thinks of how he’ll kill Satoru tomorrow.
You lay in your bed and giggle, taking your phone out to see Satoru has texted you good night, you text him back with a little heart.
A date with Satoru Gojo.
The Satoru Gojo who couldn’t wait to get home, the moment he does he’s leaned against the door, he’s got his cock in his hand, spitting on it and moaning out, stroking it up and down in filthy motions, is picturing you. His thumb smears the precum drooling on his pretty blush tip, making him jerk, as texts from others go unnoticed, ignored – instead looking at the cute little heart you sent.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he whispers to nothing, his eyes squeezed shut, imagining if he did get to make you cum for the first time. God, imagine getting to have his mouth on you, to taste your cunt from the source, make you shake, tremble – fall apart on his tongue.
His grip tightens, his hips thrusting up into his slick palm, he’s embarrassingly close in a few strokes – whatever the fuck you’re doing to him, cum pulsing in white ropes, spilling down his palm, wondering if you’re touching yourself. You probably would need him to show you how, just that thought makes his cock twitch, has him whimpering as he lays his head back.
Fuck.
He wishes Sukuna’s threats would be some sort of deterrent, but as he’s looking you up like a batshit crazy psycho, not sleeping when he has practice in the morning, he knows he really doesn’t fucking care. When he’s jerking it again to your pretty little professional ice skater photos… Well, Satoru Gojo might just be obsessed with Sukuna’s niece.
He may be a walking – or jerking – dead man.
****
part two will be in a couple weeks, where things will get very complicated hehe, I'm going to have so much fun with hockey gojo! plz be respectful as this is a commission of the character/personality chosen in the comments <3
Patreon for more exclusive fics <3 comms closed for the moment!
