͟ ₊⊹ my favorite written work of ｡｡｡ S . GOJO
♯🫧 — shorter works, such as drabbles
♯🎐 — longer works, such as fics / series / one-shots
♯💭 — smaus | ♯🤍 — fanart
♯ꜱatoru ‹𑇒 — satoru coded posts
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its kinda insane that all i do on the internet is drool over men but irl i only ever liked girls ... never had a crush on a boy as a child, though i said i did because i thought that was what you were supposed to do. im not experiencing comphet, thats for sure. i think i only like the idea of a man. lol !
usually people overreact with hyping up stuff on the internet but one thing that can never be hyped up too much is men moaning and whimpering and gasping and breathing heavily and stammering and grunting and huffing and—
you and nerd!jo were good friends, so you weren't surprised when a text came from him late at night asking for you to come over to his place, with snacks, of course.
one small problem.
you were ovulating. and never in your year of knowing gojo were you this down bad for him. yes you were aware he was handsome. only thing setting him back from getting any popularity with the girls was how much of an absolute geek he is.
he could name you every constellation, every digimon character, and the whole script for every Star Wars movie. you personally found it attractive but you would never try anything with him. he was your best friend after all.
so why is him laying there in his stupid collared shirt on the floor stuffing his face with chips making you so fucking horny?
"anyways, I kept begging and begging but that little kid just didn't want to let go of it! it was the last limited edition biyomon stuffed animal in that store!" he ranted. knowing your eyes should be focused on his face, they traveled down to his biceps peeking from his sleeves.
you forgot he was jacked up. the first time you found out he went to the gym you were baffled thinking that he only had time for formulas and.. whatever he's talking about right now.
"are you even listening to me?" his voice was muffled due to the amount of food he had inside, making him look like a hamster stuffing his cheeks with seeds.
his glasses were sliding down his nose a bit and his hair was so perfectly messed up that under the faux universe lit up by the projector set on his desk only made him look even more ethereal.
"..um yeah, sorry, continue." you mumbled.
he looked at you weirdly, raising a brow before going back to rambling. but you seriously couldn't handle it anymore. your pussy was pulsing, literally saying his name in morse code and you were sure that your panties were drenched by now.
gojo gasped at the weight of you. you shifted on his lap, tugging at his shirt quietly asking to remove it.
to your surprise, he obliged, sitting up to allow you pull up his shirt. the fabric slid of his broad shoulders to fully reveal his toned abs, delicious muscles, and his happy trail.
his face was serious, watching in silence. you were practically drooling at the sight of him, hands gently pushing him back to lay on the ground.
gojo's jaw clenched. his hands finally placed themselves on your waist. his grip was strong, staring up at you in awe. soon enough, his breaths matched yours, coming out in heavy pants as you began to grind on his clothed tent. the outline of his cock stained against his pants.
"take my pants off." he ordered.
you were surprised but you didn't need to be told twice. your hands fumbled with his zipper, sliding his pants off along with his boxers.
oh wow. he's huge.
like, really, really huge.
his tip was leaking pre, a nice shade of pink. your eyes trailed down. he was unshaven but honestly, you found that hot.
a small whimper left your lips when gojo's hand shifted to squeeze one of your breasts, forcing you to now lay down, switching your positions.
"been dreaming of this since forever.." his voice was rough and full of arousal.
and you internally thanked your ovulation, because right now you were getting fucked like you never have before, making you feel like a virgin all over again.
his thrusts were fast and deep, reaching into places you never knew were possible to touch. "mm fuck yes fuck yes yes yes.." he moaned into your ear, moving to kiss your neck, nipping at it hard enough to leave hickeys behind.
your back was arching, arms wrapped around his waist.
"oh my god!" you could feel yourself tear up. all you could process was how good his cock felt and the obscene sounds coming from you two.
"y'know how many times i've jerked my fucking cock to you? you kept torturing me with those pretty skirts and and nah.." his words trailed off after feeling you reach your orgasm, squeezing hard enough to cut off any circulation on his dick.
you panted, body feeling numb. your hands fell off his back thinking you were done.
gojo kept pounding into you, even faster than before if even possible. "not done pretty, I haven't came inside you yet." and based from how he sounded, you were far, far from done.
extra :
"I was hoping to ask you out on a date first, y'know before we even fucked, so I'll ask you now." he was leaning on his elbow, staring down at you as he played with a strand of your hair. "that okay?"
you responded with a nod. of course you were going to go out with him. there was no way you would let anyone else get dicked down by him, ever. he was yours now, and you were his.
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SUMMARY!! Y/N is the undisputed queen of the school — captain of the cheerleading team, untouchable, and fiercely protective of her spot at the top. Then she shows up: the quiet new girl, sister to one of Satoru’s closest friends, and instantly wrapped in the basketball captain’s attention. But this isn’t your typical “new girl steals the spotlight” story.
(Mean girls collection masterlist here!)
East Kinsen University’s courtyard was loud with first-week energy — new students darting between buildings, upperclassmen lounging in clusters like they owned the place. And in a way, you did.
Your legs crossed as you sat on the concrete ledge outside the gym, black sunglasses shielding your eyes from the early fall sun. People walked by and either greeted you or looked away too quickly. Your reputation had that effect.
You were Y/N. Captain of the cheer squad. Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend. Pretty, well-dressed, impossible to ignore. People either wanted to be you or wanted to see you trip.
You didn’t care either way.
You took a slow sip from your iced coffee and glanced at your phone. He was late. Again.
When Satoru finally showed up, he was in his usual post-practice look — basketball shorts slung low on his hips, hoodie sleeves pushed to the elbows, hair damp and messy from the gym. He wore that same loose grin he always had when he saw you.
“You're not slick,” you muttered, eyebrows raised. “Fifteen minutes?”
He leaned down, kissed your cheek. “Technical meeting ran over. Coach wants to murder Kaito for slacking on defense.”
“Again?”
“Every day.”
You smiled despite yourself. Then your gaze flicked past him.
Trailing behind him, slightly hunched, was a girl you didn’t recognize.
Wavy dark hair, headphones in, a stack of books clutched to her chest like a shield. She wore a plain long-sleeve top and jeans, the kind of outfit that made her easy to miss.
But Satoru was walking with her.
He turned and gestured lazily. “Yo, Y/N — this is Yui. She’s Daichi’s little sister. First year. He asked me to show her around since he’s got classes all day.”
You took your sunglasses off slowly.
Daichi was one of Satoru’s closest friends. A solid guy. Chill, never talked much. You knew him mostly through late-night study groups and group hangouts at the courts.
Yui blinked like she hadn’t expected you to even look at her.
You didn’t smile. You nodded.
“Hi,” she said softly, voice nearly drowned out by the noise of a passing skateboard.
Satoru nudged her shoulder with casual ease. “She’s a little shy. But she’s cool.”
You gave her a once-over. The oversized backpack, the nervous posture, the way she avoided your eyes. Not a threat. Yet.
That afternoon, you ended up at the dining hall with Satoru’s usual crew — Daichi, Ren, Kaito, and Satoru. You weren’t always there, but today you felt like being visible.
Yui tagged along, of course. Satoru pulled out a chair next to him. You were about to sit down when she sat there instead.
You watched her blink in slow realization.
“Oh—sorry,” she murmured, half-standing.
“It’s fine,” you said before Satoru could speak, sitting on his other side instead. You glanced across the table at Kaito, who watched the whole thing happen with unreadable eyes. He quickly looked away when you caught him.
Halfway through lunch, someone asked how Yui liked her classes.
“They’re okay,” she said. “I’m still figuring everything out.”
“She’s in one of my psych lectures,” Satoru added, casually. “Professor’s a lunatic. Screamed about pigeons today.”
“She’s passionate,” Yui said with a small laugh.
You stared at her. You weren’t used to other girls laughing with your boyfriend.
By the end of the meal, it was clear: she wasn’t trying. She wasn’t flirting. She wasn’t competing.
And that’s what made it worse. She didn’t have to try. She was already in the room. At the table. In Satoru’s words. Laughing at his jokes. And no one noticed the shift. Except you.
It started with a laugh. That was all. Not yours — hers.
It was in the student union lounge, Thursday afternoon, when you heard it. You were across the room, near the coffee counter with Ren and Daichi, scrolling through your phone while they argued about fantasy league picks. Satoru had said he’d be “five minutes.”
He was ten.
And when you looked up, he was there — across the room, slouched over the vending machine with Yui beside him. She had her hair tied in a low, messy knot and was holding a can of green tea. Something he said made her laugh. A soft one. Quiet. But familiar.
It wasn’t flirtatious. Just… familiar.
You watched as he bumped her shoulder lightly, like he’d known her longer than two days. You saw how she looked up at him — not like she wanted him, but like she trusted him already.
That was worse.
Friday afternoon, you passed the quad on your way to class and spotted Satoru sprawled on the grass with Kaito, Daichi, and Yui.
No one invited you. You weren’t mad. You were just... watching.
Yui sat cross-legged, sketching something in a small spiral notebook. You recognized the style — fine pen lines, heavy shading. She was talented. You could admit that. Quietly.
You didn’t stop to say hi.
Saturday night was when the first crack showed.
You were at Satoru’s place. His roommate was out, the lights low, your jacket on the floor, and your legs draped over his lap. You weren’t fighting. But something was off.
He was scrolling through his messages absently, the glow of his screen lighting up his face.
You leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back — quick, distracted.
“Who’s texting?” you asked casually.
He didn’t flinch. “Daichi.”
A beat of silence. Then you saw the edge of a photo — something black and white, drawn in ink. You blinked.
“Is that one of Yui’s sketches?”
He looked up at you, surprised. “Yeah. She showed me earlier and I told her to send it. It’s of the court. Cool, right?”
You stared at him.
“She drew the basketball court?”
“She said it helped her focus. It’s kind of sick.”
You smiled tightly. “Yeah. Sick.”
Monday, you sat at your usual table in the campus café — the long one by the window. Satoru had just come back from the gym, towel over his shoulders, hair damp. You were halfway through a protein bar when he slid into the seat across from you.
You expected him to kiss you hello. He didn’t. He was texting.
You leaned forward. “You good?”
“Huh?” He looked up. “Yeah. Just — Yui left her psych notebook in the gym. I told her I’d drop it off.”
Of course he did. You took a sip of your drink and looked away.
The worst part was how quiet it all was. No one was flirting. No one was lying. It wasn’t that kind of story. But you still felt it — this silent invasion of space. Your space. Your people. Your boyfriend.
And every time you said something about it, it sounded ridiculous. Satoru wasn’t doing anything wrong. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
That night, you got a DM on Instagram.
From Kaito.
She’s not doing it on purpose, you know. But I still don’t like it either.
You stared at the message.
Then you closed the app.
You didn’t realize the group hang was happening until it was already halfway underway.
Daichi sent a lazy text in the guys’ chat about grabbing food after evening classes, and somehow that had turned into a full table reservation at Yuu’s Ramen Bar downtown. You weren't even in the chat — Satoru texted you separately, told you the plans like you were being added to something instead of hosting it.
The first subtle shift.
You met them outside the restaurant. The weather was cooling, breeze tugging at your cropped jacket. You looked good. You always looked good — perfect makeup, clean lines, skirt just high enough to remind everyone you were her. You used to walk in and own the room.
But tonight, the room had already shifted. They were standing around, waiting for the last of the group. Daichi, Kaito, Ren, Satoru… and Yui.
She was wearing a dark sweater and plaid skirt, sleeves too long, hair tied with a ribbon. She looked like she didn’t mean to be there. That’s what made her presence so hard to challenge.
“Hey,” she greeted, voice quiet.
“Hey,” you said flatly, brushing past her to Satoru’s side.
He leaned down, gave you a quick kiss to the temple. “Glad you made it.”
You tried not to glance at Yui, but you felt her eyes on you.
Inside, the table was long. You sat between Satoru and Ren, across from Daichi and Yui.
You didn’t know who made the seating call, but it irritated you.
Yui ended up next to Daichi, but she kept glancing at Satoru across the table. You saw it. You weren’t going to mention it. Not yet.
The boys were loud, laughing over miso bowls and fried gyoza. You tried to stay in it — laughed when Kaito told a story about freshman year, played with Satoru’s fingers under the table.
But at one point, Daichi asked, “Yui, did you tell them what club you’re thinking of joining?”
“Oh,” she said, straightening. “The art society.”
Kaito nodded. “That fits. You still sketching campus buildings and people and all that?”
Yui flushed a little. “Yeah. I just don’t know if I’m good enough to—”
“Don’t say that,” Satoru interrupted, casual but direct. “That drawing of the old gym? That was sick.”
You blinked.
She smiled. “You remembered that?”
You cut in before he could answer. “Satoru has the memory of a goldfish. Don’t give him that much credit.”
A few chuckles. But Yui looked down. Her smile faded just slightly.
Later, when the check came and everyone was getting up, Yui accidentally bumped into your shoulder while grabbing her coat.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
You turned slowly. “It’s fine.”
She hesitated. “I hope I’m not… making anything weird.”
You gave her a long look.
“No,” you said. “You’re not that important.”
Her face dropped. She didn’t reply.
When you and Satoru left, he was quiet. Too quiet.
“Something wrong?” you asked, half-daring him to say it.
He ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t have to say that to her.”
“Say what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
You stopped walking. “Why are you defending her?”
He paused. “I’m not. I’m just saying… it wasn’t necessary.”
You smiled, cold. “Neither is her sitting with you every day.”
That silenced him.
Back in your dorm room, you took off your earrings with slow, careful movements.
Your phone buzzed. A text from Ren.
You good? Looked a little tense tonight.
You typed, deleted, then typed again.
Do I look crazy to you?
Three dots. Then:
No. Just different.
You stared at the screen until it dimmed.
Monday mornings had a rhythm.
You walked into the student lounge and the table by the windows was always yours. Satoru, Kaito, Ren, Daichi, and you. You brought coffee sometimes. Other days, snacks. You filled the silence, kept the conversation up when the boys were too tired from weekend games.
You were the glue. You always were.
But this Monday was off. You entered the lounge and saw them first. Kaito half-laughing. Satoru leaning back with his ankle crossed over his knee. And Yui — sitting in your chair, holding a takeout tray of coffee cups and paper bags.
“—I just figured everyone could use a pick-me-up,” she was saying, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “The bakery near the art building opens early.”
Daichi held up his croissant like a toast. “This slaps.”
You stopped. Your seat was taken. Not just physically — but replaced.
Satoru spotted you and smiled. “Hey, babe. She brought pastries.”
You forced a smile and sat next to Kaito instead. A space over.
He didn’t say anything, but when he slid you one of the coffees she brought, you noticed he’d passed over one that didn’t have lipstick on the lid.
Small mercy.
By Wednesday, people in your program were talking about Yui’s art.
There was a bulletin board near the design wing, and she’d put up a charcoal sketch of a girl sitting alone on the library steps. It was beautiful, you’d admit. It also looked eerily like you — same posture, same boots.
People stopped to compliment it. Someone even said, “You know, she’s so refreshing. Like… real. She’s not trying to impress anyone.”
As if that was something to praise. As if trying hard made you fake. As if you trying at all was the problem.
That afternoon, you sat on the bleachers watching basketball practice. You always did — the cheer squad usually finished an hour earlier, and you liked seeing Satoru move, command, lead.
You were halfway through tying your jacket around your waist when you spotted her.
Yui.
Sitting in the far corner of the bleachers. Alone. Sketchbook in her lap, legs tucked under her.
You didn’t walk over. But you kept glancing that way, waiting for her to leave.
She didn’t. She waited until he waved. At her.
You saw it clearly. The lift of his arm between drills. The way her posture straightened when she noticed.
Your stomach turned.
That night, you left the group chat. Quietly. No drama. No goodbye.
But they noticed. Daichi messaged you, then Ren. You ignored both. Only Kaito sent the right thing.
Wanna talk? No judgment.
You didn’t reply for hours.
But eventually, you did.
She’s replacing me.
His typing bubble appeared. Then paused. Then started again.
No. She’s just… being included.
You stared at that sentence.
Then:
But I see you. I haven’t forgotten.
You blinked at that.
It was nothing. And everything.
Thursday, Satoru walked with you to class. You held his hand loosely. You didn’t say much. He did.
“You’ve been off lately.”
“Have I?”
He exhaled. “Y/N…”
You looked up. “Do you like her?”
His brows pulled together. “What?”
“Yui. Do you like her?”
“No. She’s Daichi’s sister. She’s a kid.”
“She’s only two years younger than us.”
He looked frustrated now. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m observant.”
He pulled away just slightly. “Can’t you just let people in without turning it into a threat?”
You stopped walking.
“I used to be your person,” you said quietly. “Not a threat. Not a chore. Just… your person.”
He didn’t have an answer for that. And that hurt more than anything.
It started with a seat. Again.
Friday morning, your first free period, the guys had taken the usual corner table outside the cafeteria. It was barely 10 a.m., and already warm. You were running late — hair still damp from your shower, your slides too loud on the concrete path.
You rounded the corner, expecting the usual: the boys eating loud and fast, Satoru teasing Daichi about his midterms, Kaito flipping through his notes, and an empty spot beside your boyfriend.
But the seat wasn’t empty. Yui was already there. Right next to Satoru.
They weren’t doing anything, not exactly. But her elbow was close enough to his that your heart clenched. He leaned toward her mid-sentence, laughing softly at something she said. She wasn’t flustered this time — her voice was calm, steady.
She wasn’t trying anymore. She had already arrived. You walked slower.
When you reached the table, Kaito was the only one who stood slightly, sliding a chair toward you. You caught his eyes. He didn’t smile, but he gave you that quiet look — the one that said, Yeah. I saw it too.
You sat across from Satoru. He greeted you with a casual, “Hey, babe,” like nothing had changed. But everything had.
Later, while walking to class, Kaito caught up with you.
“She’s louder now,” he said casually.
You looked at him sideways. “What?”
“Yui. Used to whisper everything. Now she interrupts Daichi when he talks.”
You didn’t say thank you. But you didn’t look away either.
That afternoon, you found out they had planned a night out — ramen and karaoke. A group thing.
You found out by accident.
Daichi had posted a dumb video on his story: Ren badly lip-syncing to some anime opening while the camera panned across the private karaoke room. There was Satoru. There was Daichi. Kaito. Ren.
And Yui. Laughing on the couch, your drink in her hand. The one you always ordered.
No one had texted you.
You were alone in your dorm, eating crackers with peanut butter, phone glowing in the dark.
You didn’t cry. You called Kaito. He picked up on the second ring.
“You saw?”
“Yes.”
He exhaled. “I wasn’t in the mood to go either. But I had to show up.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has to keep her from turning into you.”
The silence was loud.
You didn’t speak for a few seconds. Then quietly: “What’s wrong with being me?”
“Nothing,” he said. “But they forget what it took for you to get here. She just walked in.”
The next day, Yui approached you.
You were at the vending machine near the back stairwell, alone between classes. She came around the corner with her sketchpad pressed to her chest.
She didn’t look nervous. She looked… ready.
“Hey,” she said.
You turned, slow. “Hi.”
She didn’t fidget. “I just wanted to clear the air. I know it’s weird that I’m around your friends all the time now.”
You smiled. Not kindly. “Oh, now you notice?”
Yui looked away for a second, then met your gaze again. “I didn’t mean to step on anything.”
“But you didn’t stop either.”
Her throat moved in a swallow. “I didn’t think I had to. I thought… maybe there was enough room for more than one girl at the table.”
You tilted your head. “That’s cute. But it’s not about room. It’s about roles. I had mine.”
“And now I’m threatening it?”
“You’re not threatening it,” you said, voice sharp. “You’ve already replaced it.”
For a moment, you thought she’d say sorry. But she didn’t.
Instead, she said, “Maybe you just stopped wanting it.”
That stopped you cold. She walked off without another word.
Satoru wasn’t oblivious. He just didn’t want to admit how bad it had gotten.
It was easier to think you were just being dramatic. That your tension with Yui would settle. That things would click back into place if he just gave it time.
But he wasn’t stupid.
He saw the way you started dressing up more for morning classes again — lashes perfect, lip gloss slick, hair curled even when it rained.
He noticed how you kept your phone face-down around him, and how Kaito always seemed to look at him like he knew something he didn’t.
The final nudge came on a Thursday.
Yui had been tagging along to lunch with the group. Again. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore — cracking jokes with Daichi, handing Ren her apple juice like they’d grown up together.
Satoru was halfway through his rice bowl when you walked up to the table, dropped your bag beside him, and smiled — big, bright, the kind of smile you used when cameras were around or when you were pissed.
“Hey, baby,” you said sweetly, sliding into his lap like it was nothing.
Everyone froze. Even Yui.
He blinked. “Hey.”
You wrapped your arm around his neck and leaned in like you’d missed him all morning. You hadn’t. You’d ignored three of his texts.
Yui looked down at her tray.
“Sorry I’m late,” you said, brushing your fingers through Satoru’s hair like it was routine. “Cheer practice ran over. You didn’t wait for me?”
He hesitated. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
You smiled with your teeth. “I’m always coming.”
After lunch, Satoru caught up with Kaito on the walk to class.
“She’s starting to play games,” he muttered.
Kaito gave him a dry look. “You mean she’s acting like your girlfriend again?”
Satoru frowned. “It’s not about that.”
“It is to her.”
He didn’t respond.
At practice that evening, Yui showed up again.
She claimed she was waiting for Daichi — said she just wanted to sketch from the sidelines until his shift ended.
Satoru didn’t believe her.
She sat quietly, legs crossed on the bleachers, sketchpad on her knees. The first ten minutes, she didn’t look at him at all.
The next ten, she did. And the next.
He wasn’t sure when it started, but he found himself thinking about it even when he was running drills.
Not her, exactly. But the way you’d looked at her during lunch. Like a challenge. Like you were done playing nice.
And for the first time in weeks, that version of you — sharp, high-maintenance, territorial — made him feel something warm under his skin.
It reminded him why he’d fallen for you in the first place.
You didn’t go quiet. You never faded out. You fought for what was yours.
Later that night, he showed up at your dorm without warning.
You opened the door in a robe, eye masks under your eyes, music playing low behind you.
“Do you want something?” you asked, not stepping aside.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just— We haven’t talked.”
“That’s new.”
He gave you a look. “You’ve been acting like I’m the enemy.”
“Because you’re not on my side.”
A beat of silence.
Then, softer: “I’m just stuck in the middle.”
“Then move.”
You crossed your arms. He looked at you — really looked. Messy bun. No makeup. Annoyed as hell.
Beautiful anyway.
“Don’t make this a war,” he said.
You tilted your head. “Then stop handing her ammo.”
The silence between you stretched. Not hostile — worse. Tense in a way only people who used to love each other could feel.
When you finally turned to look at him, he looked tired. No teasing smile. No cocky charm. Just Satoru. Raw, undecided.
“You don’t see what it’s like,” you said, voice lower now. “Sitting there every day like I’m some relic while she slides into my spot.”
He frowned. “You think that’s what’s happening?”
“No, Satoru. I know that’s what’s happening.”
“She’s not—”
“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want me to laugh in your face.”
His jaw clenched.
You leaned back in your chair, legs crossed under your robe. “She’s sweet. Quiet. Harmless, right? I know the game. I used to play it.”
“She’s not playing a game.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m losing?”
That silenced him. You watched him, eyes softening just enough to let the truth peek out.
“You don’t look at me the same anymore.”
He didn’t answer. And that was the answer.
You stood up slowly, walking to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, you kept your back to him.
“I used to be the only girl you’d skip class for. Remember that? We’d lie in bed all morning, then I’d wear your sweatshirt to practice just to make it obvious.”
“I remember,” he said quietly.
You turned back around, arms folded loosely around your waist. “Now I feel like I’m fighting a war no one told me we were in.”
Satoru finally stepped forward, voice lower. “You think I don’t care about you anymore?”
“I think you’re tired of me. And you’re too cowardly to admit it.”
He flinched at that — not dramatically, but you saw the way his throat tensed.
Then, softly: “You’re wrong.”
“Prove it.”
That hung there, heavy and cold.
He looked at you — really looked. Wet lashes. Bare skin. Red mouth. Sad eyes that still somehow sparkled when they stared him down.
“I miss us,” he said.
You blinked.
He stepped closer, hesitantly brushing your wrist with his fingers. “But you’ve got this armor on now. Like I’m the enemy.”
“You started this war,” you whispered.
“I didn’t think I’d have to choose.”
You swallowed. “But you do.”
He nodded once. You held his gaze a second longer, then turned back to your bed and sat down, curling your knees up beneath you.
Satoru hesitated.
Then slowly, quietly, he joined you — sitting on the floor in front of your bed, leaning back against the frame.
No one spoke. The music still played quietly from your phone speaker, some old Japanese R&B playlist looping in the background.
You reached down, your fingers brushing his shoulder.
Then, slowly — impossibly soft — he leaned in and kissed you.
It was barely even a kiss at first. Just his lips brushing yours, a question wrapped in hesitation. And then your hand slid into his hair, and that was it.
He kissed you again — slower this time, deeper. His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb sweeping just beneath your eye. His lips pressed to yours again, and again, with a hunger that surprised even him — not desperate, but familiar. Like he knew you. Like he had always known this mouth, this rhythm, this exact taste.
You made a soft sound against him, and he moved closer.
Your legs tangled beneath the covers. Your robe loosened slightly at the shoulder, and his hand slid along your waist, warm and steady, not rushing. His fingers gripped the fabric, grounding himself there.
When he pulled back, just a breath away, he kept his forehead resting against yours. His voice was low and hoarse.
“I hate fighting with you.”
You swallowed. “Then stop giving me reasons to.”
“I didn’t know how to handle it,” he admitted. “Everything just got… loud. And she was easy.”
You blinked. “You mean quiet.”
He nodded.
You traced the curve of his ear with your fingertip. “I’m not easy, Satoru.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But I never wanted easy.”
He kissed you again — this time slower, like he had all night. You let yourself melt into it, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his body pressed you gently into the mattress.
It was messy. A little angry. A little sad. But it felt real again. And in that moment — it was enough to stay.
It started with the hallway.
Friday morning. Eighth period break. You were always a little late walking to the cafeteria — part intentional, part habit. You liked people watching you enter.
But today, there was no act. You were calm.
You wore your school sweatshirt slouched off one shoulder and a miniskirt paired with knee-high socks. Hair half-up, gloss shining but simple. Not trying too hard. But you didn’t have to.
You knew he was waiting at the table. Satoru. And this time, he wasn’t looking at the entrance for someone else.
Ren was mid-story when you walked in. Kaito and Jin were arguing about fantasy league stats. Daichi had his head down texting.
Satoru was staring at his drink — until the second you stepped in.
His head lifted instinctively. His eyes followed you, slow, steady, like they didn’t want to blink and miss the moment. And you?
You walked right over to the table, slid into the seat next to him, and draped your arm along the back of his chair like it belonged there.
“Missed me?” you said casually.
He looked at you, smiled. A real one. “Always.”
Across the table, Yui watched quietly. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
Her lunch tray was still untouched. Her water bottle had a tight grip around it. Her drawing pad sat unopened in her lap. She kept glancing from you to Satoru like trying to make sense of the math.
But the numbers weren’t adding up. You were back in your seat. And Satoru didn’t even hesitate.
He nudged your leg under the table. You looked over, caught him staring — warm and distracted. You rolled your eyes but didn’t move your leg.
You laughed at one of Ren’s jokes. You stole a fry from Daichi’s plate. You whispered something in Satoru’s ear and made him chuckle mid-sip.
And all the while, Yui sat three spots down, pretending not to notice. But she noticed. Everyone did.
Especially when, just before the bell rang, Satoru reached over and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear like it was nothing.
In the hallway after, you could feel her catching up. The rubber soles of her sneakers too soft to be loud — but you were trained to feel eyes.
“Y/N?”
You stopped, turned.
Yui stood there with her sketchpad hugged tight to her chest.
Her voice was calm. Careful. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
You didn’t answer right away. Just crossed your arms, tilted your head.
Satoru glanced back from where he stood ahead — waiting, watching — but you waved him off.
He nodded slowly and kept walking.
When it was just the two of you, you finally spoke.
“What’s up?”
Yui hesitated, her grip tightening around her notebook.
“I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
You smiled. “But you did.”
“I was just trying to make friends.”
“And you picked my boyfriend?”
Her expression shifted slightly — not angry, not even defensive. Just… confused. Hurt, maybe.
“I didn’t think it would matter. You barely looked at him lately.”
That landed sharper than she probably meant.
But you didn’t flinch. You stepped forward, slow, deliberate — just enough to have to look down into her eyes.
“Here’s the thing,” you said softly. “You don’t have to understand what we are. You just have to remember that we are.”
And with that, you turned and walked away.
Leaving her in the hall with her sketchbook and a stomach full of silence.
The sun was setting behind the gym building, casting long golden shadows across the basketball courts. Practice had ended late. Satoru was walking toward the locker rooms, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hair messy, shirt slightly damp with sweat. His jersey clung to his back, and his steps were slow — tired but calm.
Until he heard her voice.
“Satoru!”
He turned.
Yui stood a few feet away, hands nervously gripping the strap of her messenger bag. Her cheeks were flushed — whether from walking fast or nerves, he wasn’t sure.
“Hey,” he said, adjusting his bag. “Everything okay?”
She hesitated, then stepped closer. “Can we talk?”
He didn’t answer right away. The way she was looking at him made his stomach tighten — it was too open, too expectant.
“Just a minute?”
“…Yeah.”
They walked toward the side of the gym where it was quieter, near the old vending machines. It smelled faintly of rubber mats and Gatorade. A few straggling players shouted from inside, but out here, it was still.
Yui finally turned to him.
“I don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be,” she began, voice low. “But I think I deserve to know what’s going on.”
Satoru blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Her voice faltered. “You and Y/N. Yesterday. Today. Everything’s changed.”
He shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking down to the cracked pavement. “Yeah. We’re figuring things out.”
Yui’s brows pulled together. “But I thought—”
She stopped herself. Satoru looked up at her.
“You thought what?”
“I thought you liked me,” she said softly. “Or at least… I thought there was something.”
He stared at her a moment — not cruelly, not even cold. Just... quiet. Honest.
“Yui,” he said carefully. “I like you. You're sweet. You're easy to talk to.”
Her face lit up with hope.
“But,” he continued, “I was never not with Y/N.”
Yui’s expression froze.
“I thought maybe... we were over,” he admitted. “Things got distant. Complicated. But it wasn’t your job to fill that space.”
“You said you wanted me around,” she whispered.
“I did,” he nodded. “And I meant it. But not like that.”
Silence. A bird chirped somewhere nearby. A basketball thudded in the distance.
“You were just being nice,” she finally said, her voice cracking just a little.
He nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry if I led you on.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
“I wasn’t trying to steal you,” she said suddenly. “I just… felt safe with you.”
He gave her a sad smile.
“That’s the thing, Yui. I’ve never been safe. Not with her. Not with anyone.”
She looked away quickly, trying to blink back the sting in her eyes.
Satoru adjusted his bag, standing taller now.
“You deserve someone who doesn’t hesitate,” he said gently. “Someone who chooses you all the way.”
And then — he turned, walking off toward the locker rooms, leaving her alone in the golden light.
The evening air was cool and soft, wrapping around you like a quiet promise.
You found Satoru sitting on the low stone wall outside the school gym, alone except for the fading light and the distant hum of the city.
Without thinking, you slipped beside him, your shoulder brushing his.
He glanced at you, eyes catching the last warmth of the sunset.
For a moment, words failed you both.
Then, slowly, Satoru reached out, his hand warm as it slid to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Your breath hitched.
He looked down at your lips, then back to your eyes — searching. You swallowed.
“Can I?”
His nod was the softest thing. Leaning in, your lips met his.
The kiss was gentle at first, a quiet question hanging between you.
Then it deepened — slow and steady, like two halves finally coming together after too much space.
Your hands found his wrists, fingers curling lightly.
He pulled you a little closer, careful, like you might disappear if he wasn’t.
When you finally parted, your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling.
“I missed this,” he whispered.
“Me too,” you said, voice just as soft.
You stayed like that a moment longer — two people tangled in something honest and new and old all at once. And for the first time in days, the noise around you faded completely.
You love being Satoru Gojo's girlfriend, he dotes on you, takes you on dates, spoils you - just one little problem, you are perpetually ovulating around him! Is wanting your nerdy boyfriend's cock in your mouth really such a bad thing? Satoru wants to wait for the perfect moment for your first time, though! He'll totally wait even when you're wearing that slutty lil dress and grinding on him, right?
pairings - nerd! gojo x girlfriend! reader
warnings - cute and silly, oral over panties/boxers, Satoru edging tf outta us -- reader is horny, Shoko/Hime, Sukuna being a fratboy dick, jealous Toru, rough blow jobs, p in v sex, first time, squirting, teasing, fingering, creampie, consent, breed kink, making your nerdy boyfriend feral and spit in your mouth <3
art creds here!!
this was a comm for my angel @cantarcantar!! ty for understanding that my life was like INSANE - ilysm for being patient <3 wc - 10.1k
It took you almost two years of crushing on Satoru Gojo to actually become his girlfriend, and you’re loving every minute of it. From being too damn shy to admit you like him, to very awkwardly trying to confess and every chance just utterly failing – to then instead becoming the very best of friends.
You two were finally ‘officially together’ as a couple.
Oh, and it was everything, being in his arms, swallowed up by those huge biceps he had hidden underneath his starch white dress shirts. Hearing that little laugh from his lips, all of those sweet little kisses he bestowed upon you – truly, all the feelings blossoming between the two of you in the most beautiful way, especially over the months of truly being his girlfriend.
He’d take you out for all day movie marathons, going to play bumper cars, mini golf, you name it – Satoru was down for it. Every date was a meticulously planned out one too, with little to no down time aside from the drive to and from. Perhaps that’s where you would sneak just the littlest pecks on his neck, hear his sighs as he gripped the gear shift of that fancy sports car.
Satoru adored you – and you adored him.
You were all his. There was no one else in the entire world than the boy who could never quite tie that tie on correctly, always just a little crooked for you to straighten out.
Yet with that came you being unreasonably horny all the fucking time, who wouldn’t be with Satoru though? Those long fingers pressing into your waist, the way that bulge pressed between your thighs, plump lips slipping up your throat. Every time it even got just a little close, maybe you were grinding so good that you were about to cum from that – he paused it.
Wearing a cute, bashful little smile on his face, fogged up, thick rimmed glasses – murmuring sweetheart in a voice that’s designed to make your pussy drip, and you feel like a complete pervert for wanting to beg for more. God, imagining his cock in your throat alone had you desperate and needy, let alone having him filling you, pumping you full, taking you first.
Maybe you are a pervert, truly.
You’ve tried so hard to be patient, you want him to want it as badly as you do, but every time you’re making out with your boyfriend – the top of the dean’s list and ultimate dungeon master for DnD – Satoru Gojo?
Every time his big ass hands grip your waist and he drags you down against his length, before he puts a pause on it?
You can’t even think about it.
You’re pumping your fingers in your needy cunt just thinking about it after every damn date with this boy. Whining out in your bed with your hips bucking up, gasps escaping your lips desperately in your empty room. Pumping faster and faster until you’ve got that sticky release all over your hand.
It’s almost as if you have this sort of ritual now, before you see your boyfriend and right after/.
Your rose toy is probably fucking tired of you.
As if you don’t you ache so damn bad around him it’s painful, hard not to shamelessly hump his thigh till you cum. No, the toy? This takes the edge off just a bit, but even the way you moan his name in your sleep is endlessly hilarious to your poor roommates that have to hear you between the walls of your off campus apartment.
“Still a virgin?” Utahime asked with a laugh when you had woken up this morning, getting ready to see Satoru.
“Not by choice,” you grumble, shaking your head and grabbing a coffee pod from the little rack, popping your favorite inside and pressing the on button. The aroma hits immediately, waking your tired brain.
You’d had the filthiest damn dream of him fucking your tits, cock sliding up and down in messy strokes that had you needing a damn shower right now.
You’re just perpetually ovulating.
Satoru is the perfect boyfriend, truly he is. He’s sweet, he’s a gentleman despite his blue eyes and where they glance too long. Mostly, he cares. You’ve fallen so in love with him so quickly over these past few months, but every time you think that things might progress, Satoru stops it. Gently lifting you up off his lap and sighing, kissing his way up your jaw, his snowy lashes tickling your cheek.
‘Sweetheart, let’s pause this,’ he would murmur those words all sweet and sultry against your skin after almost sucking on those nipples that just stay hard around this man, instead hovering a breath away so it ghosts your tits. Those huge hands brushing just underneath them.
It’s torture, really.
‘Oh, okay Toru,’ you’d whisper back, he’d moan and kiss up your neck, breaths tickling your skin. ‘Mnh…’
‘You’re so beautiful, god look at you.’
It was just wrong to talk to you like that!
“You poor baby. At least you have your toy collection,” Shoko teases, sneaking in and brushing your hair back. “Extensive, too.”
You flip her off, peeking at the phone then and seeing Satoru's name pop up.
Study session?
“Dick session?” She asks, you gasp, as if affronted at such a suggestion.
“I would never assume such a thing!”
You hope so.
*****
It’s not.
No, it’s not a dick session at all.
It really is an actual goddamn study session – both of you were sitting there in Satoru’s living room, his place was far fancier than anywhere, but that came from him being the Dean’s very son. It intimidated you a little at first, but now you’ve grown comfortable, as he made you feel so special.
Today though?
Well, you can’t focus on anything but how badly you’d love to kneel and suck your nerdy boyfriend, his thighs spread wide all slutty.
God his legs are long.
You bet his cock is-
“And this equation?” Satoru teasingly asks you, distracting you from your slutty freaking brain.
You're not even sure what stumbles out of your mouth for an answer, without saying how thick you think the circumference of his cock must be.
That is something you’ve done with your past experiences, and you know you’re good at it. You could easily deep throat a man and you wanted to see his cock so damn bad – could he be a challenge, though?
Your eyes drift down his chest, he peeks at you curiously.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks casually, spinning his pen between his fingers and studying you. “Hard question?”
“Um… yeah, a very hard time…”
Stop that! Stop looking at his dick print!
“The question is hard?”
“Uh… the question… yes.” You feel like a damn pervert every time you’re around him, can’t you chill and let things happen when they happen?
He sighs and stands up, stretching his arms up over his head, his abdomen revealed when his dress shirt rides up, showing those little v cuts that make your ovulating brain just a million times worse. It’s like you’re in heat. It's so pathetic right now – maybe you should avoid him till it stops.
“Let’s take a break then.”
“Yeah?”
He chuckles at how eager you are at the thought and comes up to you, leaning down with a hand on each arm of your chair, tilting his head so some of that soft white hair falls over his forehead. You brush a bit of it back and he kisses your palm, lips warm and sweet.
“You’ve been such a good girl, how can I not treat you a bit?” Your heart hammers in your chest, until those next words spill from his lips. “Boba?”
“What? Huh?” You blink as he eases back, pulling up his phone and leaning against the desk. “Boba??”
“Yeah, Boba, I’ll buy you some, I know you love it,” he smiles curiously as you bury your face in your hands. “No Boba? Matcha then?”
“I’m um…” About to cum if he touches you once even. “No, I guess Boba is fine. Thanks Toru.” you manage to say, thighs pressing together, Satoru frowns, kneeling now and gently taking your hands off your face, seeing your blush.
“Are you sick!? You’re all flushed!”
“I’m not-”
“You’re burning,” he touches your cheek in concern, and you almost fucking feel bad – you’re not sick, you’re ovulating. “Baby girl, let’s get you to a doctor right now!"
“No, no I feel fine, I’m not warm because of that,” you shift in your seat and whine out at just that friction. “Promise.”
He frowns and watches you carefully. “You’re hurting, it could be the start of something!”
“Well yeah I hurt,” you sigh as he spreads your thighs and kneels between them, shoving at him. “You’ll make it even worse down there.”
“I’ll make what worse, exactly? Your…” He trails off then, seeing your panties and blushing himself, pink dancing across his high cheekbones and dusting them in that rose. “Y-your… your panties are so… uh… s-soaked and…”
You should freak out at this proximity, at just how much he can finally see of you, but all you can do is whine again, as his eyes shoot back up to yours. “I’m okay, promise.”
“Am I neglecting my pretty girlfriend?” He asks softly, just a little nervous. Satoru has never touched anyone but you, but he’s extensively studied the female anatomy, and how to make you cum.
He just wanted your first time to be perfect.
That’s why he was waiting – the last thing he needed was for you to not enjoy your first time, though he knows you’re a little more experienced than he is – Satoru’s hardly kissed anyone before you. Not because he couldn’t – he just had no interest in that sort of thing until he met you – and even then, he really couldn’t find the damn courage to ask you out forever.
“No I’m being a damn pervert,” you cover your face and he chuckles at that.
“You’re being a what, now?”
You sink into the seat, mumbling. “You heard me.”
He’d been your best friend for so long, thinking there was no chance in the world – always jerking his cock with any article of clothing you’d leave in his room, like a filthy depraved pervert – and you think you were one perverted here?
Does him wanting the timing to be just right making you think that?
Satoru exhales softly, just a hint of what he wants to say slipping from his plump lips.
“What, do you touch your little pussy thinking of me?”
His voice has you lowering your hands, he spreads those thighs and slides up your skirt, making you moan out, head falling back, your hands gripping the arms of the chair even tighter.
“Wha-?” You can’t even finish your damn word.
“Asked you a question, baby.”
“God,” he’s diabolical without knowing – or maybe he does know. You’re trembling as you lean back, letting his thumb brush on your clit and gasping at the touch, already getting slick from a brush on your skin. “What question?”
“Not paying attention, tsk,” he clicks his tongue and his teeth nip your inner thigh, sinking in and making you whine out. “Do you touch her?”
“Y-yes,” he hums a bit, tugging your panties up until your lips are visible, that dark spot growing as slick starts pouring. “Please…”
“Be patient, baby,” he leans back now, smirking at you. “Show me?”
“Are you sure you…”
“Please? I wanna see so bad,” you blush now, you masturbate sure – but not in front of people! “I’ll show you?”
“Show me you um… jerking off?”
“Yeah, I mean… yeah?” You sigh a bit.
“Toru…”
“Mmm?”
“Why don’t I um… suck you?” He is bright red now, he’s almost busting just thinking of your mouth – that won’t do. His first blow job and he busts in one go!? No, Satoru has to jerk it three times before he gets the privilege of fucking your pretty little mouth, of feeling your pink tongue on him.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? But you’re so hard,” you giggle and tease him with your foot nudging his thigh, he glares and catches it, shoving it wide. “Not yet, then. So you just wanna see me touch myself?”
“God yes, dreamed of that since…” He trails off then, he doesn’t want to admit just how long he’s jerked off to you, because it was before you even knew who Satoru Gojo was. “Lemme see.”
“Okay…” you lean back, running your fingertips over your panties, slipping underneath and leaning your head back, eyes fluttering shut, hearing Satoru’s soft little whine. “Toru…”
“Fuck,” he thought he could handle this, but he’s utterly failing, he can’t even see your pretty pussy and he’s already throbbing, leaking so much pre it hurts, sticking to his brand new digimon boxers. “You’re s’pretty, sweetheart.”
You blush as you look at him with dazed eyes, running little circles right around your puffy clit, coated in hot slick as it dribbles out of your panties. He swipes some of it on his fingers, studying it carefully, his tongue going to lap at it, moaning as the sweetness coats his tongue.
“Oh you’re t-tasting me,” it makes you needier, until you have to plunge two fingers inside your messy, quivering hole, that loud squelch echoing in your ears. He’s gripping your thigh with one hand bruising until you cry out.
“Fuck, so s-sorry… baby I hurt… y-you…”
“No, no, like it,” he moans and puts his hand back on your thigh, squeezing again so hard it aches. He's jerking his cock faster, whining out when he sees your slick fingers pull out of your panties. You press your cum soaked fingers to his lips and he eagerly wraps them around, sucking them off. “Toru…”
“So sweet, my pretty girlfriend,” his glasses fog up when he leans down, licking your inner thigh that is trembling, sliding higher until his tongue is on you – but it's not on your skin, it's on the soaked cotton of your panties.
“Fuck…” he moans as he gets those juices that are spilling through the fabric, his and squeezing his own cock as your thighs sit over his shoulders.
“More, please,” you're tugging at his hair so hard it hurts, bucking up your hips for more. “I need you, please.”
“Such a needy girlfriend,” he murmurs, thumb circling his drooling tip, looking up at you with desperation in his pretty blue eyes. “You want me to lick it more for you?”
Your answer is a little nod, even having him lick you over your panties is more than you've ever had done, and fuck it feels good. Sinful as he trails a long, slow stripe over the fabric, the tip stopping right over your twitchy clit, his moan is muffled against the damp cotton.
“Toru!” He's lost in your scent, in that taste, the little hints of lace decorating your panties rough against his tongue, the sound is fucking filthy.
Satoru tugs those panties up more firmly, strings of gossamer saliva dripping and dissolving, peering up at you with flushed cheeks. “Like that, baby? Is this what you were thinking about instead of studying?”
Your only answer is to nod quickly, a jerky little motion as he sees those puffy lips just swallowing the damp material. He swipes his tongue over and over, the heat and wetness of his mouth making your entire body tremble. You feel it heating up, hearing the messy sounds of his own cock fucking his fist, wishing it were your throat instead.
"Oh god, Toru," you whimper out it so pathetically, your hands tangling in his soft white hair, fluffy and silky underneath your touch, trying to pull him closer, to shove his face where you need it. “Not enough, mnh!”
He chuckles against your puffy cunt, the vibration and the quick lave of his tongue have you on edge. Pulse racing as he had the audacity to tease you, landing a wet smack on your cunt that had you pathetic.
"Ah - ah," he clicks his tongue, catching your wrists in one of his stupidly large hands and pinning them against your waist, smirking at you in a way that's utterly not dirty at all. "No touching yet, sweetheart. I'm taking my time with you."
“Meanie,” he chuckles again, but you love it – feeling that strength as he grips you so tight. “My panties are ruined, Toru.”
“Mmm. Yes they are,” he tugs them again, looking at how wet the material is, just a pathetic little scrap of fabric with your juices pouring.
Instead of showing you mercy and moving them, he just presses them further against you again, tongue shoving that fabric until it's flush with your needy clit, you swear you can feel his tastebuds as that tongue drags through the fabric, pausing everywhere that has you jerking and honing in.
Like this nerdy boy is studying you.
Oh. He is.
He's methodical, almost clinical with his research of your needy, clothed cunt just separated by this pathetic little piece of fabric, his tongue pressing more firmly against your soppy lil hole. She is pulsing around nothing, torturous strokes, pressing his fingers up and down, you're hot and sticky underneath his touch.
“Toru!” Your wrists are still pinned, his cock forgotten even though it's dripping down onto the soft, plush rug below his knees. Satoru finds your clit again and looks up under snowy lashes, you watch the drips of slick connect with that wickedly long tongue.
“Mmm. I bet I could see myself inside you,” he whispers, you suck in a breath at that, as if he is measuring the distance of your entrance to your belly button, easing your wrists to tug up your top, nipping your puffy lips over the fabric. “Scientifically.”
“Then experiment, scientifically.” He chuckles like the little shit he is, finding your clit once more, a hand pressing where he imagines his cock would bulge out.
“You are so needy f'me, s'pretty like this,” his words slur as he wraps his plump lips around your twitchy clit, barely concealed and swollen underneath the cotton material that is dripping wet. He pulls it in his mouth and sucks it hard through your panties, humming against you.
You're aching, cunt filling his hungry mouth as your hands land back on his hair, his movements making you cry out and buck your hips against his mouth for more.
“So sweet right now, god, look at that…”
Satoru is so close to cumming when he grabs his cock at the base again, squeezing so goddamn hard – he could almost bet that if he felt your cunt without the fabric, he'd spurt his white ropes everywhere.
Make a mess of you.
“Mnh. You close, sweetheart?”
Your answer is a jerky little nod, as he keeps torturing you with this fucking barrier, his teeth grazing that tiny clit ever so lightly through the fabric, making you scream out, your head falling back. Your panties are absolutely ruined now, utterly transparent with your slick and his spit coating them, your sweet little cries rushing through his ears.
Satoru? Well, he laps at the mess he's making happily, his tongue coating the entire area in circles that deliberately avoid that spot until you're twitching, tears falling down your cheeks.
"Such a messy girl," he moans out those words, eyes black when they peek up at you, his voice husky as your slick clings to his lips. "Soaking these pretty little panties f’me.”
“Please, Toru… move ‘em please,” he smirks and decides to have mercy on you, tugging them to the side of one of your lips and exhaling, watching the slick drool and spill down. You gasp as the air hits your cunt, already aching and needy, the dampness making it a cool shock.
“Fuck, you're so pretty,” he murmurs, his cock just about to bust without his touch, he glides his tongue from your ass all the way to your clit, looking right up at you. “Is this what you were thinking of, hmm? My tongue inside you?”
“Your cock, too,” he chuckles against you, but just a couple more flicks has you close, as he spreads your cunt wide, studying your every expression.
“Look at that. My slutty little girlfriend.”
Satoru is trying his best to hold it together, but when his tongue glides into your gummy walls and they grip him, he's too far gone, slurping up every bit of the cum that just pours out. You shatter so damn pretty, squirting all over his face, dripping down his chin until it's glossy, his cock starts pulsing right with your hole, imagining her milking him.
“F-fuckk….”
“Toru, mnh! S'good I… please…” You’re overheated, body sensitive, it’s just not enough, even with his tongue lavishing every bit of your pussy.
Not enough.
“Please what, baby? Mnh,” he grips his veiny cock as he cums with his tongue on your clit, more of your mess drenching his throat, his face, his shirt. His white ropes coat his hand, lashes fluttering shut as he savors your jumping clit in his mouth, whining against you.
“Want your cock in my mouth, Toru please…” he exhales, breath making you jolt, looking up at you with a blush.
“I um…” he leans back on his knees and you see the mess, blushing at it.
“I didn't touch you though…”
“Didn't need to,” he's clearly a little embarrassed, you take his cum soaked hand then – dripping white – and wrap your mouth around one of his thick fingers. “Oh fuck…”
You suck him right off, tasting that salty white substance and moaning as it hits your taste buds. Satoru pulls back and laps it off his own fingers, before kissing you right with it, the mess spilling between your mouths and dripping down.
Satoru Gojo – your nerdy boyfriend with an insane Digimon collection was a fucking freak, greedily drinking his own cum off your mouth.
You’re trembling when the door knocks, and you faintly remember that he has ordered you boba. He’s the epitome of a perfect boyfriend after that, considerate, caring, cleaning the little rivulets of your own release from your inner thighs – you’re stuck back on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling him and watching a movie.
Satoru even has the audacity to snore after, heavy body wrapping as you ache to get filled by him – at least the movie was so damn boring you drift off right next to him.
****
“I’m gonna die a virgin,” you mumble to Shoko and Utahime the next weekend, aside from more heated kisses and grinding on Satoru’s thigh after your well planned out dates – nothing.
You’re aching.
How much use could your rose toy really see!? And now you even have two more toys going along with it, though you doubt any of them are getting close to Satoru and how good he must feel. No ‘clit sucker’ could come close to what that nerdy little mouth could do.
“You look like you’re dying, girl, damn…” Utahime earns your glare. “Is it that bad?”
“He finally got me off and…” You blush now, unable to finish your sentence, remembering his tongue drinking up your juices.
“Does he know what a clit is?”
“Very much so, it was so good.”
They look surprised.
“You all have no clue, he really was,” Shoko laughs at that, leaning back and hitting the vape, handing it over to you. “No, no.”
“You need a smoke, sweets,” you grimace, brushing your hair back, pacing back and forth as the two girls watch you, snuggling with each other. “You’re pacing holes in the carpet.”
“I can’t handle this, I just… god I wanna suck his dick, is it so terrible? He hasn’t even let me touch it. I sound like a horny ass man, I hate it. I wanna respect him, I really do.”
“You wanna respect him with his cock in your throat?” Shoko finishes.
“Yes. I mean!? I will respect him without the cock in my mouth! You two are menaces.”
They’re laughing like the brats they are, blowing smoke in each other’s mouths, you damn near moan in frustration. Satoru’s gotten you off that one time, then since then he has gone right back to worshipping you in the sweet way he always did, as if you’ll what – forget about his tongue?
His stupidly long fingers…
The cum on your tongue that you lapped right off!?
The taste.
“Ugh -” you lean back and sink further into the couch. “I really am gonna die.”
“Can’t die, we’ve got that party tonight,” Utahime teases, kissing Shoko’s lips and giggling just a bit, you pout at the two of them.
In public Satoru would kiss your hand at best.
Where on earth even had that freak come from that spit his cum in your mouth last week!? He’s all gone again – the pocket protector wearing Nerd Gojo in his place, like some twin fucking took over for a minute.
“I can’t go to a party and get drunk, I’ll make a fool of myself around him, one drink and my pussy has a mind of its own…” You finally sit down, plopping back into the seat. “I feel like a pervert.”
“You are! Let’s just call you fucking pervy Sage.”
“Hey!” You glare at Utahime, Shoko is inhaling another puff of smoke, you cough just a bit.
“Hah – Sanji from One-”
“Don’t even!? I’m not that bad,” you huff at her, frowning now. “I swear I'm not trying to be pervy. God, what is in this weed?”
“Hmm,” Shoko tugs Utahime on her lap. “I wonder if he's scared you'll like … bite his dick.”
“You're so fucking mean,” you cough a little more, eyes watering as you scowl at the two of them.
“Look slutty, like really slutty,” Shoko walks up now, tilting your chin up and crooking her lips up at the corner. “Something that screams – fuck me.”
“He licked my panties and didn’t even…”
“Really slutty,” Utahime agrees, tapping her chin. “Ooh! I know, I have the perfect outfit in mind, that little black dress of yours.”
“But it’s too small for me now! It’s from like high school, and thanks to you two cooking all the time, my hips-”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what? Oh…”
You trail off now, realizing what everyone knew – that Satoru loves your hips, he grabbed on to them every chance he got, even when he was just a little bit shy.
“Okay…”
They kiss again in front of you, laughing a bit, making you lovesick for your man – your nerdy man who you wish would kiss you in that way, tongues all dripping. It’s not even fair.
“All lovey dovey, fuck you both.”
They’re so hot and rude laughing at you – you decide to just disappear, you don’t need your hot ass best friends making out in front of you when you’re already in pain from the constant edging from Satoru. You are rushing to your room and trying on outfit after outfit, before finally deciding on the exact fucking one they brought up.
You would look as sexy as you could and hopefully get your boyfriend to not be able to resist you.
But also you’ll respect his decision, dammit! You can wait as long as he wants to, even if you were absolutely gonna put your tits and ass out there for him. Looking in the mirror and touching up your lipstick, swiping a finger across your lower lip to smudge it just a tad.
“Oh damn you look hot, Sanji,” Utahime says when you come out.
“I am not Sanji.”
“You are.”
“Fuck you both!”
*****
Satoru can’t keep his damn eyes off you.
Fuck you’re pretty tonight.
That damn little black dress clinging to your skin is fucking ruining Satoru’s mind, brain short circuiting as the two of you navigate the insanely packed frat house, one of his hands on the small of your back protectively. People are all bumping into everyone, stumbling around, absolutely no chance he lets someone hurt you by accident.
Moreso, Satoru Gojo can’t get his fucking hands off you, no, he can feel your warmth right through the thin layer of cotton material, fingers splaying across it. He reminds himself in his head over and over just what a horrible thing it would be to fucking take your first time at a frat party, even as he has to adjust his cock, turning from you to face the wall for a moment.
“Everything okay, Toru?” You ask softly, hand on his back, he laughs, a fake and terrible attempt at being normal, turning right back around to you.
“Me!? Yes, yes. Do you need a drink, babydoll?” He asks.
The music kicks on as he speaks, and all you can see are his plump lips forming words, ringing from how damn loud they’re blaring the worst dance music known to man. “What!!”
“A drink!!”
“Huh?”
“A DRINK-”
The music pauses for just a minute, switching to something else but leaving multiple people to stare at Nerdy Gojo shouting.
You blink a bit at his shouting, he swears he’ll kill Suguru and Nanami for having the audacity to fucking laugh at him and his pain. Them smoking weed earlier and trying to give him every tip known to man on how to bury said tip right against that surely cute little cervix.
As if Satoru hadn’t studied extensively.
“Yes, please,” you smile all pretty, letting him guide you through, he just about loses it from the sheer amount of eyes locked onto you, gripping you just a little too tight, feeling the curve of those breedable hips underneath his fingertips.
Imagine having them bent over, his hands fit so perfect-
No, he can make it another night, a dumb frat party was not the time or place for something so precious as your first time. Even if you smell that good, and you’re dancing all over him, giggling, your ass brushing right against where his cock has tented his dark jeans.
Your drink in one hand, the other in his as he pulls you against him, for a nerdy boy, Gojo can absolutely move his body. You feel so goddamn good against him, with your waist in his grip now, his lips pressed against your ear – he can inhale that sweet scent you just naturally fucking have.
That’s when he realizes he’s about to cum if your ass rubs up on his cock one more damn time with those heels making you tall enough, he could bend you over and slide it right in. God he bets you’re so wet too.
Satoru has to pull back, making you blink just a bit in confusion, he downs the rest of his drink, smiling apologetically.
“Bathroom, sweetheart.”
“Oh, um… okay, want me to-”
Satoru runs the fuck off.
Maybe you’re doing too much, shit… you were absolutely grinding all up on Satoru because you were craving him so bad. You needed to give him more time! If the roles were reversed, you know he would, even if he may want to as badly as you do. Going to pour yourself a shot, you throw it back and let your eyes shut, sighing just a bit as it burns your throat.
You need to ease up and let Satoru take his time, even if you have to press your thighs together to resist the needy urge of rubbing your cunt on anything right now.
Maybe you are fucking Sanji.
*****
Satoru’s leaned back on the door, unzipping his pants and seeing his reddened cockhead, and just how fucking swollen it is. He’s jerking his cock desperately, whimpering out as the door gets knocked on, banged on in fact by fucking Sukuna of all people.
“Gotta take a piss man, stop jerking it.”
“I’m not!? I’m pissing right now – w-wait,” Satoru is jerking it of course, but how dare Sukuna call him out on it. Dickhead fratboy that he is, he’s chuckling outside of the door, but none of it is getting rid of Satoru’s throbbing erection.
He’s just way too needy, too sensitive, he can see his reflection in the mirror – those flushed pink cheeks. Sukuna thankfully fucks off, but Satoru can't even cum with just his hand, not when he knows your little fist would feel so much better, when your mouth and pussy would grip him.
No, Satoru is left tortured.
*****
You are alone for some time, concerned if he was somehow drunk or sick when the leader of the frat – the slutty ass, pink haired jock named Sukuna comes up to you, sipping his cup and flickering his red eyes up and down your face.
“Hmm, Gojo left you all alone?”
“And?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him now, he smirks just a bit, leaning close. “He’s busy. Okay?”
“Mmm… yeah,” he peeks over his shoulder now, then looks right back down at you. “So.”
“So, what?”
He grins all big. “Wanna play beer pong?”
“Beer pong?”
“Mhm,” he tugs at a little lock of your hair. “Bet I stomp your ass at it. Look like such a good girl.”
“Hah you think I've never been to a party!?”
“Never seen you before aside from with your nerdy lover boy,” he pours you a drink now and inclines his head.
“I've partied, just… usually me and Toru are busy.”
He snorts at that.
So busy your boyfriend is jerking his cock in the bathroom.
“I see, so busy, huh?”
“Yes but…” you curse now, shaking your head. Satoru has been gone fifteen minutes and won't answer a text, a game of beer pong wouldn't hurt. “Fine then.”
It doesn’t take long until there is an entire gathering of people to watch you absolutely annihilate Ryomen Sukuna in beer pong, to the point he is fucking furious. You're landing the pong ball in every cup, decimating the entire frat at a certain point, giggling as you study them, down to the last shot, against Sukuna again.
“Beginners luck or some shit,” he’s fucking furious – you swear you see his vein ticking underneath his jaw.
Satoru is still not here.
You’re worried but you’re also enjoying the cheers, especially when you land that last one, giggling as the frat brothers who were talking all that shit about the nerdy girlfriend of Satoru moments before are now staring in disbelief. With one final, perfect arc, the ball splashes into the last cup.
It really is beginner's luck.
But.
Also, fuck Sukuna.
"Damn, girl!" someone yells, and you take a little bow, rubbing it right in Sukuna’s face now, who is slamming down the rest of his beer.
Surely he drank enough to get annihilated – but somehow still standing just normal, big ass man has some insane tolerance because those eyes look completely aware.
"Guess I'm not such a good girl after all, huh?" you tease Sukuna, who's standing there looking down at you, setting the cup down and crushing it.
“Hmmm,” his red eyes dilate just a bit as he steps closer to you, suddenly making you feel just a bit nervous.
Satoru hates Sukuna.
It’s well known, since high school the two of them have been overcompetitive and absolutely insane against each other. He’d be fucking furious if he saw you anywhere near him at all. You peek and see him across the crowd then, getting a text from Shoko blinging on your phone.
He’s really mad.
He is.
You get another text now from Utahime, biting down on your lower lip.
Make him jealous and maybe you’ll get dicked down, Sanji.
“I’m not Sanji,” Sukuna raises a brow, lips twitching. “I’m not.”
“Sanji? Who the fuck is that?”
“One piece?”
“Nerd – hey, wait,” you’re turning and he grabs your wrist for just a moment. “Shit, I mean… you’re right, you’re not a good girl, huh?”
“I sure beat your ass,” you say, pausing when he reaches out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a stray piece of hair back from your face, rough knuckles brushing against your cheek for a second too long.
"You did, you're full of surprises, brat.”
“Brat? Whatever…”
You can feel Satoru’s eyes on you – you’d pull back, but part of you wonders if making him jealous would bring that freak out that spit cum in your mouth – maybe you are a brat. You sip your drink, remaining normal.
“I’m dating Satoru, you’re too close.”
“Would nerdy ass Satoru know what to do, how to handle your ass?” He taunts, your eyes narrow, his laugh echoing despite the music as your boyfriend starts shoving his way through. “Show you that digimon collection?”
“I’m very pleased, thank you.”
“You look like you need to get your attitude fucked right out of you,” your fingers itch to slap him now. “If he fucks up, you know where to find me.”
“No thank you, I- Toru!”
Satoru is between you and Sukuna, shoving him off and glaring right at him – perhaps the two tallest men at the party right face to face, Sukuna’s smirk making Satoru want to punch him.
“Why are you so close to my future wife?”
“Wife?” You blush and he glares at you.
“Yes, and baby momma – but you’re being a brat,” he whispers, Sukuna snorts at that.
“She is a brat.”
“You can’t call her that,” he shoves the big ass man and takes your hand now. “She has better shit to do than talk to you.”
“Aw, but we were having fun,” Satoru is dragging you away, you blink just a bit, almost scowling at Sukuna who blows you a kiss.
What a dick.
BUT.
Satoru is fuming, and he’s hot.
You’re so toxic!
“What’s wrong, Toru? I was just playing some beer pong,” you say all innocently, as he drags you past everyone, you’re struggling to keep up with his long strides. “Um… what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong!? Hah,” he’s laughing, psychotic and feral like you turned on a switch in his brain, when he finally starts getting some privacy. “Everything.”
“I don’t get it…”
“He was hitting on you,” Satoru yanks you away in the center of the party, you barely bite back your giggle at how excited you are to see him this way, looking ever so serious when he glares down at you.
Maybe you are evil, loving how mad he is, how jealous he is when he presses you against the hallway wall on the other side of the party, you can feel the music humming through the walls, but not as fast as your heart is racing looking up at your blue eyed boyfriend. Blue eyed angry boyfriend.
This isn't sweet Satoru at all, no – he's completely fucking unhinged, his chest rising and falling with his quickened breaths, cupping your face and jerking your chin to look up at him.
“You think he was?” You ask softly, making him raise a brow. “I thought he was just… being nice?”
You make him laugh without humor now, thumb brushing across your lip. “Are you being bratty, sweetheart? Teasing me, making me jealous?”
“What? No,” you straight up fucking lie to his face, batting your lashes all innocent and cute, but you can tell my that little smirk he doesn’t buy any of it for shit right now.
“No?”
“No, I was just talking, Toru. Isn't that fine?” You trail your hands up his chest, wrapping your fingers around to hook behind his neck, tugging him down to face you. “It’s fine for me to make friends, isn’t it?”
“Not when he's looking at these pretty tits,” he cups one, making you suck in a breath – your needy boyfriend is never this bold. “They're not his to look at.”
“Oh?” You lean forward now, tip toeing as he leans low, thumb brushing over a nipple, making it perk up for his touch. “Are they yours? Yours to look at?”
He’s losing it, his pulse hammering behind his ears, in his wrists, everywhere was hammering, his mouth practically salivating as he cups that tit right where anyone can see, big hand squishing it. You gasp out at the sensation, your lashes fluttering closed, little whines mingling against his lips.
“Yes, mine, every inch of you is mine,” Satoru shakes his head now with a soft laugh. “He thought he could dance with you. Kiss your lips? Lips that are mine.”
“All yours,” you open your eyes and giggle again, earning his scowl. “Sorry you're just so cute like this.”
Satoru blinks.
“Oh, I’m cute?”
You go to press a kiss when he snatches you up in one swoop, you gasp and wrap your arms around his neck now. Thighs trembling as he carries you to some room he finds, stumbling you in and shoving you right against the door.
“You think I'm cute,” he presses his cock against your slick heat, slutty little panties practically ruined for him, grinding his cock until you're gasping out. “Well I think that you're a brat.”
You gasp. “Me?”
Two people calling you that.
Well… maybe you are.
“You are bratty, with those pretty fucking lips,” he's kissing you filthy, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you both, easing you down so that you slide against his body achingly slow. “Maybe I should shut your bratty mouth up.”
Oh fuck.
“Yes please?” He glares at your big fucking grin.
“On your knees then, sweetheart,” you so eagerly obey, he laughs softly, his heart hammering in his chest, a mix of being utterly furious, nervous about his first time, and dumbstruck by the sight of your heart eyes. “Look at you, bein’ such a good girl – but are you really that desperate to suck me?”
“Please yes,” you have no shame – all you want is Satoru’s cock deep and buried in the back of your throat. “If you want though! C-consent.”
“As if I haven’t wanted this for years,” he shakes his head and tilts your chin up, sighing. “I wanted to do it all perfect, to lick and kiss every inch, worship your body until you were writhing, so fucking needy for it.”
Satoru unclicks his belt, the metallic click hitting your ears. “Mnh… years?”
"Years," he repeats softly, unbuttoning his jeans entirely too slow for you, you go to move your hands and he halts them with a little smack, you bite down on your lip, aching. “Hands on your thighs, you’ll listen to me for once, since you’ve been driving me so fucking crazy.”
“Me, making you crazy, really,” you do as he says though – eagerly – palms on your thighs, he laughs a bit, the sound of his zipper lowering echoing in the room even with the reverberating walls.
“You know every time you drag that messy cunt on me it ruins me, right?” He draws out that word, sighing now. "Every time you wore those little skirts and bent over, every time you'd bite your lip while concentrating…”
Satoru drags a thumb down your lip now, achingly slow against the plumpness that moves underneath it, your teeth nip on his thumb teasingly, and then you let him push your mouth open.
“Open real wide, sweetheart,” you do just that, and he can’t help but whimper as he presses down on your tongue, as if he’s studying the recesses of your open, eager mouth. “Wider, can’t you? For me?”
You listen eagerly, opening wide and fucking obscene, your tongue out for any bit of him he wants to give you, core just aching.
“Fuck, I've imagined this exact moment."
Satoru won’t tell you just how long he has, either, he swallows – just a bit nervous now.
“Suck,” you suck his digits, slurping them and moaning around them, imagining his cock instead, loving how dominant he’s being. “Stop.”
You obey, making him raise a brow.
“You like me tellin’ you what to do? Is that why you got me so fucking mad, so jealous, to have you listen?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, as he shoves his jeans down, and the hard, thick length of his bugle strains against the thin fabric of his boxers. “Pokemon? You traitor!”
“I can’t wait to shut your mouth up tonight,” you giggle at that, Satoru sighs and frowns at them, brushing your hair back a bit. “They were a gift, okay?”
“I’ll buy you digimon ones.”
“God, you’re so perfect,” you’re still giggling, when he gently smacks your face – the lightest little touch that has you almost moaning. “Open up again, yeah? Be a good girl, baby.”
“Mmm, yes,” you nod your head, doing just as he says – the side of freaky Satoru you only saw hints of last week when he’d lavished your panties with his long tongue.
“You got me jealous on purpose, yeah? Wore that slutty outfit to fucking ruin me, wanted cock in your throat that bad? Got me fucking leaking so much… fuck…”
Your answer is to keep that mouth open, leaning forward as you lap your tongue along the damp spot where his pre cum has already soaked through, right over a traitorous yellow pikachu. You’ll make more fun of that later, right now he’s jerking his hips, hissing at the drag of your cute lil tongue on him.
“Fuck…” You’re teasing him just like he did you – licking and sucking his tip over the damp cotton of his boxers. “Act so sweet and you’re evil, shouldn’t feel that good through that… mmm…”
Satoru’s letting you suck around his fat cockhead, slurping every bit of his white cum from it, tongue lolling right along that slit over and over.
“Torturing me back?”
“Yep,” you lick your lips, making him sigh, shaking his head now.
“Go on then, take what’s all yours…" his voice is low, hoarse damn near as he for the very first time pulls his cock out, letting it spring free, slapping against his lower abdomen with a loud, wet smack. “Can you fit all of it?”
You knew he’d be big.
You didn’t know he’d be that big, with his jeans undone all slutty, his pokemon boxers shoved down – his cock is perfect, just the right amount of thick and entirely too fucking long, with a prominent pale blue vein running along the underside. You’re literally drooling as he strokes it right in front of you, the head flushed a deep, pretty pink as it leaks white.
You’re soaked, fucking ruined.
“I can.”
You cannot.
Maybe?
You will try!
“Go on then, sweetheart, lemme see how good you can take all of me,” he chuckles as you lean forward without hesitation, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tip. “Teasin’ me more?”
You lap your tongue up, keeping your hands right where he asked you too, sliding underneath so you hit that frenum. His sharp inhale is met with his huge hand tugging in your hair so hard it hurts, pulling at the hairs on the nape of your neck.
“Fuck… greedy lil mouth,” he’s damn near slurring his words when you swirl your little tongue around the head, lapping up the salty taste of his cock underneath, brushing along that vein. He whimpers out when you wrap your lips around it and suck. “Oh my… f-fuck…”
Satoru loses it the first time you really suck his cock, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you down further as his other hand rests on the doorway, beginning to move so that he’s choking you. You’re whining out, aching to touch your cunt so bad you slide your fingers down.
“So desperate,” he tuts his tongue, fucking your throat now, his cock slamming the back of it as tears spill. “B-baby, is this s’okay?”
You pull back as he does, with a wet, filthy pop, grinning. “I want it, all the way deep in my throat, Toru, I can take it.”
“You can take all of it in that tiny lil’ throat? When she’s this tight?” He whispers, your nod makes him glare now. “Have you done this?”
You blink a bit. “Yes?”
“Then I’ll fuck your throat so hard you’ll forget anything but me,” he takes you over now, slamming deep inside, you’re whimpering as one of his feet spread your thighs, and you’re soaking his black boot. “That’s it, rutting on my boot and taking cock like a little slut, hmm?”
“Mnhgh…” you’re done for, this is exactly what you needed, him railing your throat until you can’t think, until you’re gagging and tears are spilling.
“Look at me,” he orders softly, you do just that as he presses deep, sniffling as you try to take all of him, he hisses as he feels his tip stretching that tight throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. “You know I fucking love you? And respect you?”
You giggle around him and he glares.
“You have to know if I’m gonna say all this,” you pull back again, fingers all coated in your slick, gliding it along his sticky tip.
“I know you love me, Toru. I love you…” He sighs, touching your cheek. “I love you talking to me this way, you could be meaner.”
“Oh? Fuck my frustration on your throat?”
“Please?”
“You’re ruining me,” he mumbles, slamming right back inside, now that he knows you’re okay, he can lose control, see how much you can take, as you grind on that shoe, nails now pressing in the muscles of his thighs, jeans slipping down. “Want our first time to really be right against this door? Shove your slutty skirt up and ruin your cunt for fuckin’ anyone?”
God, Satoru’s sexy like this, fogged glasses and all.
Your answer is to take him all the way, your nose brushing against the white hair, the tufts of it tickling your nose, he’s stuttering now, unable to stop himself from fucking faster, harder, the wet sounds mixing with his whines. He doesn’t hold them back, either, every time he does he feels a fresh gush of wetness even over that leather, he can see it shimmering as he pulls back and slaps his cock on your mouth.
“Slutty girl, this all f’me, huh? Not that fucking loser downstairs?”
“All you.”
“Hold that tongue out,” you do just that, and Satoru slaps his tip on your tongue over and over, as you keep grinding on him. “Can’t believe you’re this much of a pretty little whore, god I thought you were a good girl?”
“Toru… please…”
“Please what?” You just keep rubbing. “Desperate, fuck… stand up.”
You can hardly do that when he helps you by tugging you up, spitting directly in your mouth, you swallow it greedily, earning his pathetic moan as he turns you, shoving you against that door. “Mnh!”
“Stop me before I fill all your fucking holes with cum,” he’s kissing down your neck, his glasses cool against your neck, whines escaping his lips as he shoves that slutty lil dress up the gentle curve of your hip. “All of them, I’ll have your cunt drippin’, your throat full, fuck that ass while I’m at it.”
“Mngh, please, please,” it’s all you can do but to arch.
“That needy?” He’s tugging your panties to the side, dragging his tip up and down over and over, moans escaping his lips when he bends down, turning your face to him. “First time in a frat house against a door? You’re so wet do I even need to finger you right now?”
“Already did,” you answered, he laughs, shaking his head and kissing you, rubbing even more, teasing your slit with the fat head of his cock until you’re weak, your thighs shaking. “Please, please….”
“Please what, fuck your cunt for the first time? That’s what you’ve been wanting, me to lose it, huh?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, teasing even more, mouth messy and mean as he bumps your clit, until you squirt right down his length, dripping all down the carpet.
Sukuna’s carpet – it’s his room you faintly notice, as you see the little pictures on the walls.
You wonder if Satoru meant that.
“Squirting already, haven’t even fucked you yet,” he pulls back and bends down, slamming his cock so deep you scream out, head falling back as he tugs your hair, making your ass arch out as he fills you. “Oh my g-god… baby…”
“Toru,” he lets you adjust to his thickness, the very first time your cunt has ever been filled – and this wasn’t how he wanted to do it.
He wanted to stretch you out – one finger, two, then three – but you’re so soaked you suck him right in. Such a tight, perfect fit he can hardly take it, bending down to press sweet kisses on your bare shoulders, easing back and shoving in again, taking your hand and placing it on your tummy, pressing so you feel it all.
“Feel me here?” He asks softly, desperately – worried for a moment with how tight you are that he’s hurt you, but your answer is to look back at him with those slutty, parted lips and dilated eyes, nodding. “Who’s inside you?”
“You, Toru.” you answer, cunt spasming as she’s already close, his body overtaking you, wrapping and tugging, shoving even deeper.
“Who’s first?”
“You.”
“Who’s gonna make this cunt stretch out?”
“Y-you and… ah!”
“Mine, mine… fuck you’re all mine,” Satoru gave you that minute to adjust, a last mercy before your nerdy boyfriend fucking loses his mind. “Mine, this pretty body, this perfect pussy… you… mine…”
“Yours,” you whisper it over and over as Satoru fucks your messy cunt, even though it’s hard to take, you’re so full it feels perfect, letting his hand wrap your throat, fingers pressing on either side of your windpipe. “Ah!”
“Hah – such a perfect fit, made f’me,” he’s fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, cock gliding in and out of your sticky, gummy walls, fucking you so goddamn messy it's dripping down between your thighs. “B-babyyy…”
You arch for more when he pulls out of your cunt with a filthy squelch and you whine from the loss. “Back in, please…”
He lifts and carries you to the bed, thighs shoved wide, feral now as he shoves back inside and sees himself moving inside you. Every slick glide smoothing your puffy cervix, until she is bruised and aching, that dress shoved higher, panties tugged firmly to the side. He uses both to move in you, laughing as you gasp out, as your thighs tremble.
“Aw, is it too much, sweetheart? Too deep?”
Feral Satoru is here, mixed with sweet Toru, but his cock is anything but sweet – the way it stretches you out, fucking ruins you, pummels your cunt so deep you’re about to cum all over his length, already sensitive.
“Mhm!”
“Full of me?”
“Nghhhh…”
You don't know how the fuck else to answer, it all is entirely too much, the way he can see his cock print, his insane laugh, those blue eyes glittering with the frames fallen off. So blue it hurts to look at, eyes almost threatening to close.
“Nuh-uh, eyes on me, that's it,” Satoru keeps pumping into your cunt, leaning up to shove your thighs against your tits, smushing them as he fucks you dumb.
He knows it too.
“Can't think?”
“mmm, nnnhhh,” your answer is pathetic and just a babble really, as your nerdy, once virgin boyfriend pummels your messy, needy cunt until she's stuffed so full it hurts. Your nails pressing into biceps, digging in as he stretches your puffy lips on it.
“Can’t even fucking talk – already?” Your eyes roll back in your skull as his cock ruins your pussy, so deep you do feel him all over.
“Gonna pump you so full, hah will you finish college without me breeding your cunt?” Satoru Gojo is batshit insane, as he leans over you, bending you so that you're folded in half under his heavy weight. “What would you do then, hmm? If I breed your slutty cunt? Make you mine.”
“Want it, mmm,” you’re utterly fucking shameless about it, feeling his bruising grip, his cock getting creamy at the base as his heavy balls slap.
“Jerked it in the bathroom, had me so hard,” you bite down on your lip, gasps escaping your throat, eyes locked. “You love that, huh? Driving me insane, slutty dress, pretty body… god…”
He presses your thighs down enough to tug your tits out, gripping them and exhaling, thumbs brushing your nipples until they’re peaks.
"Look at you," he pants, "taking my cock so well, pretty girl. You’re just such a good little slut for me, aren't you?"
You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white, your answer is to grip his hips with your thighs, letting him cup your face, pumping you so full that you can feel it all over. Warm and hot when he whines out so pathetically in your ringing ears, slutty little moans falling from your lips.
“Takin’ all of it, god…” He kisses you even as you shatter, your cunt spasming all around his veiny length, milking him for every drop. “So fucking greedy. So needy.”
He leans down and captures your lips, spurts of cum still pouring, you can feel him twitching, nails pressing into the strong muscles of his back. “Toru… l-love… toru y-you…”
“Cock drunk, sweetheart?” He teases, like the menace he really is – but he also lovingly caresses your cheek. “You took me like you were made for me.”
“I did?” You’re so damn drunk off him you’re slurring your words, pussy achingly empty, feeling his cum slipping out.
“You did a very good job. Such a good girl.”
“Yay!”
Satoru snorts at you, shaking his head and peppering kisses, leaned up on an arm, his shirt half open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. “You’re s’cute… I wanted to take it easy your first time.”
“I loved it,” you admit, yawning now, peeking around the room. “Mmm, can we go home though?”
“Of course we will,” he kisses down your body though, breath ghosting your thighs, spreading them to watch the filthy mess of his cum pour out, groaning. “You’re wasting it all, baby.”
“Hmm? Ah!” Satoru scoops some of that mess up against his fingertips, shoving it right back inside your quivering hole. You’re gripping him tight, thighs clamping down on his hand, as he smirks. “Toru you’re… crazy…”
“Mmm, you really have no idea what I have wanted to do,” he clicks his tongue, pushing that cum deep again, watching your every expression. “Gonna keep you so full of cum it’ll drip everywhere.”
Satoru does not just fuck you once, no – he makes sure to bend you over in the backseat of his car, fucking cum back inside. Once you're at his house he is pumping ropes of cum on your tits, laughing at how messy you get coated in white, before spreading it all over your body.
Satoru fingers and fucks all that cum inside until you're a trembling mess in his arms, passing out and snoring.
“So funny you started all this but then couldn't keep up, hmm?” He teases softly, cleaning you up, cock sore from how you gripped him, how much he came. But even the sight of milky drops escaping your hole had him damn near twitching back to life, groaning against your skin.
*****
“Good morning,” your nerdy boyfriend is littered in pretty kiss marks, indentions of your teeth all down his neck, a loopy smile on his face as he stands there shirtless, glasses firmly back on.
“Oh! Good morning…” you thought you'd be the one to ruin Satoru Gojo, ride his cock till he whimpered and cried from overstimulation.
You had no clue he'd fuck you so good you couldn't sit up right without his help, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss your lips, tilting your chin up and smirking. You're a mess.
A pretty mess.
Hair fucked up, covered in fingerprints and hickies, taking the coffee he brings and sipping it, sighing as it hits your tongue. “Mmm… good morning.”
“Don't you look pretty in my bed?” He muses, smirking on his features. “I wonder what Sukuna thought of his bed covered in your squirt.”
A blush heats up your cheeks. “I didn't squirt that much!?!?!”
“You really did,” you shove him playfully, giggling then. “My cum too though.”
“You did it on purpose, his room!”
“Me? Never.”
Satoru absolutely did.
That's what Sukuna gets for hitting on his girlfriend, dried up cum all on his blankets – as if he could handle you ❤️
heheh i hope ya'll liked horny reader for a change!!!
pairing. satoru gojo x reader (fanart by 28cg_ on x!)
synopsis. it’s christmas. you’re alone again after pulling away from the only people who’ve made you feel seen. you’ve never belonged. why would it be different with them? gojo surprises you by showing up at your door anyway. (wc 7k)
warnings/tags. hurt/comfort, angst, allusion to depression, social anxiety, loneliness, self isolation, & abandonment issues (pls don’t read if any of these might trigger you!), eventual fluff, pet names, comfort kisses, use of y/n in just one scene, gojo is the best boy and shoko and suguru are the best friends :(
꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ i’m sorry for dropping this angst for christmas (my first angst fic too?!) BUT we’re all good bc there’s comfort! right?? please enjoy! bc i may have or may not have sobbed multiple times writing this + this is a backstory for gojo x shy!reader ehhe. i’ll be getting more into their history before i continue writing smut with them so it all hits a little sweeter <3
another christmas alone.
only this time, it was entirely your fault.
you had met the most wonderful people this year: shoko, suguru, and satoru. as friends, they all fit together in a way that felt effortless, as if they’d been carved from the same place and just found each other.
when they took you in, their conversations flowed on as they always had. their inside jokes slipped past you, memories you weren’t part of surfacing without warning.
of course, they never shut you out—no, not once. never on purpose. they were all too kind for that. but sometimes knowing that fact made you feel even worse. it was as if they were constantly making space you hadn’t earned.
you laughed when you were supposed to, showed up when invited and told yourself that was enough. but every time they looked at you with that warmth and curiosity, something in your chest twisted.
kindness that unguarded had to be intentional. and if it was? then it had to be pity.
their texts started early that morning.
shoko greeting you with “merry chistmas!!” then asking what time you’d be over for the christmas party.
an hour passed. when you didn’t answer, suguru’s concern slipped through—gentle at first, then heavier when you still hadn’t shown up like you’d promised the day before.
satoru followed, loud and insistent, demanding you get over there already because he was “dying to see you.”
you sincerely doubted that last bit.
your phone buzzed again and again until your hands started to shake and sweat—and then you just muted their contacts altogether because answering meant stepping back into space you were already afraid of taking up.
you imagined them sitting together, warm, laughing, wondering why you weren’t there… but not wondering for too long.
they must’ve been relieved when you didn’t reply. one less obligation. less pity. more fun. less faking now that they didn’t have to go out of their way to include you.
so you stayed quiet like you always did.
it wasn’t like you contributed much anyway. they wouldn’t miss you—you were sure of that.
you knew you were boring. you knew you were painfully awkward. every word felt wrong the second you considered saying it. you’d been this way for all you’ve known.
all your friends came into your life the same way. they noticed you because you were alone and because they felt bad for you at first. they stayed just long enough to make you hope, then left when the silence became uncomfortable—when you were somehow too much and too little at the same time.
“no wonder she doesn’t have any friends. she’s so boring!”
“right? she doesn’t even try!”
that’s what they’d all say.
you got used to it.
conversations always seemed to stall when you spoke. every bumbling word felt like something you had to apologize for. you felt like you were taking up air meant for someone louder, easier, and more interesting.
with the three of them, you were always hyperaware of yourself. well, scratch that—you were hyperaware with everyone.
you laughed a second too late, every time. one-on-one conversations stretched thin, filled with pauses you didn’t know how to fix. silence settled in your chest and stayed there, heavy and accusing.
shoko and suguru could sit together without speaking and they still felt comfortable. when the same happened to you, it was like a dead weight and as if something had gone wrong and it was all your fault.
satoru tried the hardest to pull you in—too bright, too loud, always reaching. it felt even more wrong, as if he was overcompensating, smoothing over the rough edges you couldn’t hide.
the thing was, nobody had ever tried this hard before. no friends, no supposed friend group. the most they’d let you do was tag along like a lost puppy. smile politely. blend in just enough to not be a nuisance until you were.
but that never happened with them. not yet.
shoko asked you about the little things—your favorite books, what music you liked, the way you liked to spend a lazy afternoon.
suguru remembered every answer and brought it up later, as if your words mattered, as if they had weight.
satoru teased you relentlessly, yes, but he also asked, really asked, what you thought, what you wanted, noticed what made you laugh—really laugh. not just for show, but because he wanted to know.
they were curious about you. maybe out of genuine care.
so that was why you knew it would hurt so much more when they’d eventually leave you like everyone else always did.
and that was why you stayed in bed all christmas day, cocooned in blankets.
the world outside your apartment and even outside your room felt too loud and too full of happy people who didn’t understand how much effort it took just to breathe.
you only got up once, drawn by the rumble of your empty stomach. the kitchen was cold, at your feet, even in fuzzy socks—an early christmas present satoru got you, their blue color that reminded you of his eyes. they mocked you now.
even the act of making tea felt like climbing a mountain.
you moved on autopilot, filling a mug, heating water, staring blankly at the counter as if it might answer all the questions swirling in your head.
the quiet felt accusing. it always did when you were alone. every shadow seemed to whisper that maybe this was exactly where you belonged.
alone. forgotten. left behind.
the tea steamed in your hands, warm and meaningless, while your phone lay ignored on the table.
you wanted to tell yourself it was okay. that hiding like you always did was easier and that retreating under blankets, pretending the world had forgotten you was safer.
if you expected nothing there was nothing to loose.
you set the mug down untouched. it’s steam curled up and vanished into the cold air, like all the warmth in the world that couldn’t reach you. your hands trembled slightly, and for a moment you just stared at the mug, wishing it could carry your burdens.
finally, you give up.
you trudge back to your room and crawl beneath the blankets, pulling them over your head like they might muffle everything you’re feeling. you curl into yourself, arms tight around your middle, jaw clenched so hard it aches. you tell yourself not to cry. just breathe. just don’t.
your eyes burn. your throat closes up.
one tear slips, traitorous, soaking into your pillow before you can wipe it away. you swallow hard, trying to force it down, but your chest aches and a quiet sound escapes you.
then another tear follows. and another.
after that, there’s no stopping it.
the tears come silent, pressed into fabric, shaking out of you like something you’ve been holding hostage all day. they spill freely, hot and relentless, streaking your cheeks, blurring everything. your breathing turns uneven, chest heaving as if it can’t quite remember how to work, shoulders trembling with the effort of keeping it quiet.
you cry until it hurts—until your ribs ache, until your throat feels raw and scraped bare, until the hiccups rip through you in soft, humiliating bursts.
there’s nobody to comfort you. not now. not ever.
the blankets twist around your body, heavy and useless, offering nothing but warmth without comfort. your room stays still—dark and indifferent, watching you fall apart.
when the tears slow eventually, thinning into shaky breaths, your body sags in on itself. emptied out and exhausted.
your eyes throb, swollen and sore, lashes clumped together with dried tears. the last broken cry slips from your chest, barely more than a breath.
sleep takes you then—not gentle, not kind—but restless and thin, pulling you under while the ache still lingers in your bones.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
you hadn’t even remembered falling asleep but banging on your door jolts you awake.
panic hits you immediately. the knocks are impatient. almost angry…? for a split second, your half asleep mind spirals.
were you about to be robbed?
your heart slams against your ribs as you scramble upright, sheets tangling around your legs. you reach for your phone, fingers shaking, only to remember you had left it on the kitchen table.
the banging comes again, louder this time, rattling the door in its frame. you swallow hard.
clutching your blanket around your shoulders like armor, you slip out of your room on shaky feet, every step careful, silent.
you grab your phone just as the knocking turns more frantic.
then a voice cuts through it—urgent, rough around the edges, painfully familiar.
“y/n? i’m really fucking worried now. open the door please! i swear to—”
your breathing stills just as he cuts himself off.
it’s satoru.
softer now stripped of all his loud confidence, “please y/n… open the door.”
the way he says your name, like he’s been pacing and trying not to panic, makes your heart twist. the teasing lilt you know so well is gone. the bravado is gone. it’s just worry. real, naked worry.
you stand there frozen, blanket clutched tight, blinking against the sting building behind your eyes, throat closing up.
he came.
he actually came.
nevertheless, panic swarms you all over again. what were you supposed to do? would he be angry? were the others with him? god—you were a mess. your hair tangled with sleep, eyes swollen, face still tight from crying. you couldn’t let anyone see you like this. you couldn’t let him see you like this.
every instinct screams at you to disappear back under the covers and pretend none of this is happening.
but you can’t. he’s right outside your door.
you’re stuck there, suspended between panic and disbelief, feet rooted to the floor.
but then his voice breaks through again—sharper now, threaded with something dangerously close to desperation.
“c’mon— y/n? please. open the door. i need to know if you’re okay… i- i’ll break it down if i have to!”
you flinch.
before fear can talk you out of it you’re moving.
your hands shake so badly as you fumble with the lock, breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls. the door swings open just a crack, and for one terrifying second, you don’t know if you’re ready to meet his eyes.
but there he is.
satoru’s hand is mid knock and he almost stumbles forward when the door opens.
his usual grin is nowhere to be found. instead, there’s worry carved into every line of his face, raw and unguarded—and it hits you harder than anything else tonight.
he exhales your name the second he sees you, relief flooding his voice like it’s been trapped there.
“are you okay?”
the simple question catches you so off guard. it’s not a where where you? or why have you been ignoring us?
he’s asking if you’re okay.
your throat tightens painfully. you can’t answer. you can’t make yourself look at him.
he says your name again, softer this time, almost a plea, but the sound barely reaches you over the storm building in your chest.
everything caves in at once—every wall you put up. every breath you forced to stay steady.
before you can stop it, the dam breaks.
and when it does? his arms are around you.
they’re warm and solid, making your body collapse into him like instinct.
he holds you like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s anchoring you in place when you’re falling apart. his palm cups the back of your head, careful, reverent, like you’re something fragile and worth protecting.
the real sobs that have been clawing at your chest finally spill free.
satoru doesn’t even even pull away or flinch. if anything he settles closer like this is what he was made for.
he murmurs your name again and again, letting you cry it out against him. you cling to him, face buried in his chest, shoulders trembling so hard they ache.
your hair is damp where tears have soaked through, breath hitching in uneven pulls. the scent of him—clean soap, warmth, him—fills your lungs, grounding in a way nothing else has been all day.
for the first time, the crushing weight on your chest eases. just a little. maybe more.
his hand moves through your hair in slow, soothing circles, patient and unhurried. then his fingers catch the edge of the blanket you’re still clutching uselessly between you, and without another word, he tugs it higher around your shoulders. snug and protective.
the gesture is so gentle—so considerate—that your breath stutters all over again.
the words repeat like a mantra, quiet but insistent, making your chest ache. “it’s okay, baby,” he murmurs. “it’s okay… i’ve got you. you’re not alone. you’re not alone, okay?”
the word baby lands like a shock straight to your chest.
nobody had ever called you that. nobody had called you that in a way that felt like this—care and tenderness instead of something you had to earn. your fingers curl tighter in his shirt, knuckles whitening as if your body is afraid that if you let go, even a little, he’ll vanish.
a broken sound tears out of your throat, sharper than the sobs before it, like something inside you has finally split open. your face presses harder into his chest, tears soaking through as your body trembles.
you want to stop—you really do, it’s embarrassing to be like this in front of him, but each sob is pulled from somewhere deep and bruised, all your fear spilling out at once.
you’d been so sure—so sure—that being held like this was never meant for you.
but now… satoru is giving it to you.
his arms tighten, firm and grounding when your knees threaten to buckle, keeping you upright because he won’t let you collapse completely. one hand stays cradled at the back of your head while the other rubs slow, reassuring circles into your back.
“hey,” he murmurs, voice thick now, like he feels it too. “it’s okay. you don’t have to hold back anymore. cry if you need to. i’m right here.”
you gasp, trying to speak, but all that comes out is a choked, broken sound—your words dissolving into sobs as soon as they reach your throat. you shake your head against his chest like you’re arguing and trying to deny everything spilling out of you.
when you sob against him again, you don’t feel so alone doing it.
he still doesn’t let go, only holding you closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head, breathing slow and deliberately until your body starts to follow his lead.
“i’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, a promise meant only for you. “not tonight. okay?”
your chest still hurts. the tears still come. but somewhere between the steady thump of his heart and the quiet certainty in his voice, the pain shifts—no longer sharp, just heavy. something you can carry.
you nod against him.
the next thing you know, satoru is lifting you effortlessly into his arms. he carries you across the room like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.
your apartment feels too big and too empty as he walks, but the space between the two of you feels impossibly small. impossibly safe.
he sits down on the couch without letting you go, keeping you tucked against his chest, your arms still looped around his waist. his hand never leaves the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair like they belong there.
you can feel his warmth seeping into you.
he hums softly under his breath, repeating those reassurances that wrap around you like a warm hug.
“i’ve got you,” he murmurs again, “you don’t have to be brave right now. not for anyone. just be here with me.”
and you try to do just that.
you let the tears fall, let yourself shudder against him, let yourself finally rest against someone who refuses to let you crumble alone.
you’ve never felt so seen—so heard without even saying a word.
slowly but surely, the cries eventually fade, replacing themselves with slow, heavy breathing.
he shifts slightly, cradling you closer, and you feel the gentle press of his chin atop your heat. he waits, patient, giving you a long moment to breathe.
when you’ve calmed down more he speaks, breaking the quiet.
“hi, pretty girl… can i see you?”
your chest tightens at his words. your brain scrambles. pretty? me?
it hits you all at once how big this is for you and your face heats like fire. you feel your cheeks burn, your lips parting, unsure what to say. flustered, vulnerable, and entirely unguarded, you nod slightly, still buried against his chest.
his fingers tilts your chin up gently, the other hand brushing your damp hair from your face.
your eyes meet his blue ones that you adore so much and he smiles. it makes your chest ache in a new way. not with pain, but with the strange, overwhelming relief of being noticed.
“there you are,” he whispers, almost to himself.
you blink, still caught somewhere between disbelief and a growing warmth. he leans in just slightly, close enough that you can feel his warm breath without pressure, close enough that you know he’s not going anywhere.
his thumb brushes along your cheek, tracing the damp tracks of your tears, and a shiver runs through you. not from fear or from the cold, from the way he’s holding you making you feel safe.
“it’s okay,” he says again, softer this time, “you don’t have to hide. not from me. not ever.”
you swallow the lump in your throat.
when you finally talk, your voice is hoarse.
“thank you,” you whisper, the words barely making it past your lips.
it feels small compared to everything he’s done—showing up, holding you, staying—but it’s all you can offer. your fingers curl into his shirt again, not quite ready to let go, your heart fluttering in a way that feels dangerous.
he exhales softly, something warm and fond in the sound, and dips his forehead to rest against yours. “hey,” he murmurs, gentle, “you don’t have to thank me for anything. i actually should’ve come much earlier…”
“huh?” you murmur.
your chest tightens with something tender and aching. you’ve always felt it for him, even before today. his presence made everything feel a little lighter, a little safer. you’d told yourself it was nothing. but right now, wrapped up in his arms, it feels impossible to deny.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes soft, unguarded in a way you don’t see often. one of his hands stays firm at your waist, grounding, now like he’s afraid you might slip away if he lets go.
“yeah,” he says quietly. “i was so worried when you didn’t answer us. i kept hoping you’d show up…”
“i should’ve noticed sooner… you’ve been trying so hard to be okay, and i let you do it alone.” his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your side, slow and soothing. “that’s on me. i’m sorry…”
your chest tightens further with the overwhelming weight of being seen. you know now that he doesn't pity you. he cares enough for you to regret missing the signs.
you shake your head quickly, instinctively. “i didn’t want to bother anyone,” you admit, voice small. “especially you.”
his brows knit together, and for the first time there’s something fierce under the softness. “you could never bother me,” he says immediately, like it’s obvious. like it’s always been obvious. “i just… i thought you knew that.”
your heart stutters. you swallow, eyes dropping to his chest, suddenly shy. “i didn’t,” you confess.
there’s a beat of silence. not awkward—heavy. meaningful.
then he tilts his head, smiling faintly, something vulnerable flickering across his face. “guess i should be clearer, then.”
you think—oh. maybe he’s going to say something else. maybe he’s just close because he always is.
but then his lips brush your cheek.
it’s so light you almost miss it.
but how could you?
you freeze instantly, breath catching sharp in your chest, eyes widening in pure surprise. before your mind can catch up, he presses another kiss just beneath your eye—right where your tears had fallen. then another, careful and unhurried, like he’s testing something fragile.
your heart stumbles violently. he’s not teasing. not rushing. he’s kissing your face—like it means something. like you mean something.
“satoru—” you breathe, startled, his name slipping out on instinct alone.
he pauses instantly, forehead resting against yours again, thumb still warm against your cheek.
he searches your face. “is this okay?”
you nod before you can think, cheeks burning, pulse racing, still stunned.
“mhm,” you whisper.
something soft breaks across his face at that—relief, affection, something dangerously sincere. he presses one last kiss to your cheek, lingering just a second longer this time, like he’s memorizing the feeling of you here, alive and real in his arms.
“i’ve always wanted to do that,” he admits quietly.
your chest tightens, breath shallow. you don’t know what to say. you’d never imagined this—not really. never let yourself believe he’d want to kiss you like this. but now, held gently, kissed so carefully, you realize how long you’ve been aching for it too.
he doesn’t push. doesn’t take more.
“merry christmas,” he says with a small, almost shy smile.
you let out a breathless, disbelieving huff of a laugh.
“merry christmas,” you echo, just as softly.
his smile widens at that, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your stomach flutter. he squeezes you just a little tighter, like he’s grounding himself too, like this means as much to him as it does to you.
and then he’s pulling something out of this pocket.
“i have this for you.”
your heart stutters. “wait- you didn’t have to—”
“I know,” he says gently. “but i wanted to.”
he opens his palm, revealing a small box. your hands shake as you take it.
when you lift the lid, your breath catches in a gasp.
inside is a necklace. it’s so delicate and it’s in the jewelry color you always wear. the small charm makes your chest ache instantly. it’s a tiny origami crane.
he remembered. he really remembered.
weeks ago, you’d mentioned in passing, how much you loved origami—how a single crane could hold a wish, a hope, or a secret meaning. it hadn’t even been a full conversation. you’d never imagined he was really listening—let alone care enough to turn it into something like this.
“you remembered?” you whisper.
he shrugs, almost shy, a small grin tugging at his lips. “of course i did.” then, softer, “it reminded me of you.”
your eyes sting. again. you laugh softly, pressing the tiny crane to your chest like like it might hold every little ache and joy you’ve been carrying. no one had ever paid attention like this—not enough to remember, not enough to choose something that spoke to you.
“can i?” he asks, already reaching.
you nod. he inches closer, fingers brushing your hair aside as he fastens it around your neck. his touch lingers at the nape for half a second too long.
when he pulls back, his gaze softens. “it looks perfect on you,” he says quietly.
your heart feels like it might burst.
“wait,” you blurt suddenly, panic and courage colliding. “i- i have something for you too.”
his brows lift in surprise. “yeah?”
you pull away reluctantly and hurry to your room, heart racing. the gift had been tucked away in your closet for weeks—a stupid, impulsive thing you bought because it made you think of him immediately. you never thought you’d actually get the chance to give it to him.
you come back clutching it behind your back, suddenly painfully shy. “it’s not… i mean, it’s kind of silly,” you mumble, holding it out.
he blinks when he sees it—then a smile envelops his entire face.
it’s a plushie of a white cat with blue eyes. soft and ridiculous.
he takes it from you carefully, eyes flicking from the plushie to you, a slow smile spreading across his face.
you stumble over your words to fill the gap, “it’s… it’s stupid, i mean—i just saw it and it reminded me of you and i didn’t think i’d ever actually get the chance to give it to you—”
instead of replying, he’s tugging you onto his lap.
instead, he’s tugging you gently onto his lap.
the soft plushie gets tucked between you, pressed to his chest as his arms come around you, laughter bubbling out of him like he can’t help it.
“oh my god,” he laughs softly, voice fond and warm, “you’re so cute.”
then he leans in—and suddenly his lips are on your face again.
“it’s perfect, baby,” he murmurs into your hair, squeezing the plushie again like he needs to make the point stick.
the kisses start soft. then teasing. then faster, lighter—pressed everywhere without warning. your cheeks, your temples, the tip of your nose. he laughs between them, breath warm against your skin, eyes bright and sparkling like he’s having the time of his life.
your hands clutch at his shirt, breath going shallow as you whine in embarrassment, but he doesn’t let you go. he cradles you easily, the plushie snug between you while his arms hold you close.
“i’m so happy,” he says, smiling in a dopey way that makes your chest ache—and makes you want to kiss him back properly, except you can barely think straight. his forehead rests against yours, close enough that you can feel his breath. “i’m so happy you’re here… and that you got me this little thing…”
all you can do is laugh, breathless, cheeks burning, head spinning from the way he’s holding you, kissing you, making you feel.
you manage a small, breathless laugh, voice trembling. “you really like it, huh?”
he looks down at the plushie, then back at you, eyes sparkling. “like it? i love it,” he says, squeezing it gently before glancing at you again, smile wide and unrestrained. “thank you for thinking of me.”
your cheeks burn hotter, heart hammering. “i… i should be the one saying that…” you murmur, fingers fidgeting.
he laughs softly, a warm, light sound that makes your stomach flutter, then leans in and presses a quick kiss to your forehead and you can’t help but laugh and squirm a little on his lap, trying to catch your breath.
and the way he looks at you after that—soft, fond, unmistakably pleased—makes your chest feel too full.
you feel like you’re the grinch and your heart has grown three sizes.
he’s still smiling at you like that—soft, pleased, a little stunned—when something beyond you catches his eye.
the laughter in his chest slows. his gaze drifts past your shoulder, toward the window.
“…wait,” he says, squinting slightly.
you follow his line of sight just as his eyes widen, excitement lighting up his face all at once.
“wait—look!”
thick snowflakes are falling outside.
his whole demeanor changes instantly—like a switch has flipped. he practically bounces in place, and you knew he actually would’ve if your weren’t sitting on his lap. he grips you just a little tighter in his excitement.
“it’s christmas snow! actual christmas snow! do you see this?!”
you laugh, covering your mouth with your hands, gaze stuck between the window and him. “it’s beautiful.”
you don’t know which is better.
he looks back at you, eyes sparkling. there’s something boyish and unfiltered about him this way that makes you feel the same.
“hey,” he says suddenly, leaning closer like he’s about to share a secret. “have you ever made a snow angel?”
you shake your head slowly. “no… my parents never let me. they were always worried i’d get sick.”
his expression shifts instantly—mock offense, dramatic disbelief.
“no way!” he groans. “that’s unacceptable. today, we make snow angels. non-negotiable.”
before you can even respond, he’s already moving—hands on your waist, lifting you easily off his lap and tugging you toward the door. you stumble after him, laughing, heart racing.
“wait—wait!” you protest, breathless. “i need to get dressed first!”
he freezes mid-step, blinks, then laughs at himself. “oh my god—yeah. okay. wow. what am i doing?” he steps back, holding his hands up dramatically. “bundle up. i’ll wait. promise.”
the way he says it—easy, unhurried, like he truly had nowhere else to be even when he had been so excited—makes something in you soften even more.
you retreat into your room, heart still pounding, movements a little clumsy from leftover adrenaline and excitement. you pull on your jacket quickly, then a knit hat, gloves, and a scarf. just as you’re about to head back out, you pause. you hadn’t seen satoru bring anything with him except a jacket.
without really thinking, you grab an extra scarf and another pair of gloves, folding them over your arm before leaving the room.
when you step back out, he looks up from where he’s waiting by the door. his eyes flick over you—and then down.
“…aww,” he grins, pointing. “those are the socks i got you.”
you glance down, suddenly aware of the fuzzy fabric peeking out beneath your pants. your face warms. “oh. yeah,” you admit quietly. “i wore them all day.”
something in his expression shifts, fond and gentle all at once. he grins in his boyish way, “i like that,”
you hold out the extra gloves and scarf, shy. “i… grabbed these for you. just in case. i didn’t have an extra hat though…”
his eyebrows lift, surprised—and then he smiles wider. “you’re really sweet, you know that?”
“says you,” you mumble, ducking your head.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
outside, the cold hits you immediately. thick flakes drift down like the world has softened just for christmas. there had already been snow on the ground from last week, but now a fresh layer was settling over everything making it all untouched.
satoru drops down first, landing flat on his back with a dramatic oof.
“okay! like this,” he announces, already spreading his arms and legs wide against the snow as if he was demonstrating something very serious.
you hesitate for half a second—just long enough for the cold to feel real—before lowering yourself down beside him. you sit, then lie back, the snow immediately seeping through your coat, cold enough to pull a sharp gasp from your chest before it turns into laughter. you start moving your arms and legs, copying him, the rhythm awkward at first.
“you’re doing it!” he says, turning his head toward you, grin bright and uncontained. “your first snow angel!”
you turn toward him too, cheeks flushed both from the cold and from him. snow clings to your lashes, almost like you’re trying to match his naturally white ones. “i can’t believe i’ve never done this before,” you admit, breath fogging the air.
“well, it only matters you’re doing it now!” he grins, stretching his arms wider, deliberately exaggerating his movements. “and you gotta commit,” he says. “bigger wings. like this.”
“that’s not fair! my arms aren’t as long as yours!”
you try to follow, laughing harder now—and then your glove slips, accidentally flinging snow straight into his hair.
he freezes.
dramatically, he gasps. “hey! was that an attack?!”
you sit up immediately, laughing so hard your sides ache. “i didn’t mean to!”
“oh, it’s on!” he says, already scooping up a handful of snow. he lobs it at you with zero aim, the clump falling apart midair and barely dusting your sleeve.
“that doesn’t even count!” you tease, scrambling to your feet.
your boots crunch loudly against the snow. he chases after you, laughing, long strides intentionally slowing just enough for you to stay ahead. you can tell he’s letting you win—and it makes you giggle even more.
but then your foot slips.
before you can panic, he’s there, catching you around the waist. the two of you tumble down together in a messy heap, snow puffing up around you as you land.
you end up tangled together, his arm braced beside your head, your hands gripping his jacket. for a moment, neither of you move.
your faces are close, too close—breaths fogging the space between you as the laughter fades into something quieter. you feel so warm inside despite the cold snow biting at you.
the world feels still, like it’s waiting for the two of you.
snow keeps drifting down lazily, catching in his bright hair and melting against his pinkened cheeks.
you’re suddenly aware of how close you are—too close to pretend this is still just an accident—but neither of you pull away.
you huff the way your stomach is fluttering with a soft laugh, eyes flicking up to his hair. “you’re matching the snow.”
he pouts immediately, exaggerated and offended, and it makes you want to kiss it right off his face.
“rude.”
you shake your head quickly, flustered, fingers tightening in his jacket. “no- i meant like- in a good way. you’re like a real snow angel.”
he blinks. once. then again. the tips of his ears turn pink almost instantly.
“…hey,” he mutters, suddenly looking anywhere but at you. “that’s not fair.”
“huh?”
“you can’t just say things like that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, flustered.
“oh…”
when he finally looks back at you, there’s something nervous and earnest there, something softer than you’ve ever seen.
his gaze slips down to your lips.
it’s almost like he can’t seem to help it. he exhales slowly, steadying himself.
you gulp.
the realization hits you all at once—what’s about to happen. what you want to happen. your hands tighten in his jacket, knuckles brushing the fabric as your heart stumbles, caught somewhere between nerves and longing.
was this how your first kiss is going to happen?
he wets his lips without thinking, then looks at your own. really looks.
“i… can i…?” he murmurs, voice low, almost breaking.
you nod, barely able to breathe. “mhm….”
he leans in slowly, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment. each inch feels deliberate and suspended, the space between you stretching thin with anticipation. you don’t pull away. not even a little. and your lips part on instinct.
he notices. his breath catches, eyes flicking to your mouth before lifting to meet yours again, searching, making sure you’re still with him.
the world narrows.
he closes the distance carefully. the brush of his nose against yours sends a quiet spark through you, your pulse roaring in your ears as the last sliver of space lingers—just long enough to feel unbearable.
then it’s gone.
his lips meet yours… soft as a promise. warmth blooms instantly like fireworks, chasing away the cold that clings to your skin.
his hand stays at your jaw, thumb tracing slow arcs that make your breath hitch against him.
you register distantly that his gloves are gone, that his skin is warm against yours despite the cold somehow, but the thought drifts away before it can settle.
your fingers are already knotted in his jacket, unsure and clumsy, so you cling harder, grounding yourself in the familiar weight of him, the fabric wrinkling beneath your grip.
he notices. the kiss lingers as if he’s reassuring you without words. he doesn’t rush you, only leaning in just a touch more.
you feel the curve of a smile against your lips before it fades into something deeper.
the kiss deepens and you exhale into him without meaning to, and he hums low in his chest, pleased. like he’d been waiting for that.
the sound sends a small shiver through you and your grip tightens again, knuckles brushing the warmth of his chest beneath the layers.
his thumb stills at your jaw when you finally pull back a fraction, just enough to breathe, your foreheads resting together.
you breaths fog between you, uneven, and he lets out a soft laugh under his breath, something shy and disbelieving.
“wow,” he murmurs, like he’s afraid to break the spell.
you look at him in awe, as if you’re seeing him for the first time but somehow have always known him. his white lashes are dusted with snow, cheeks flushed pink, blue eyes soft and a little stunned like he can’t quite believe this is real either.
for a second, you forget everything else. the pain you’d felt for your whole life? he’s taking it away, little by little until there’s just him, this close, breathing the same air as you.
your lips still tingle where they had met his so intimately, warmth blooming low in your chest, spreading slow and sweet.
“…hi,” you whisper. you don’t know what else to say. the word is barely there, more breath than sound.
his mouth curves into a small, crooked smile, shy in a way you’ve never seen before. “hi pretty girl,” he echoes, quieter, like he’s matching you on purpose.
he leans his forehead against yours again and your fingers relax just a little in his jacket. not because you’re ready to let go—only because you don’t feel like you have to hold on so tightly anymore.
snow keeps falling around you, soft and steady, and for once, it feels like the world got something right.
but then a startled gasp breaks the quiet.
“ugh—! you guys are alive!”
the sound makes both of you jump. you and satoru jerk upright at the same time, scrambling out of your tangled sprawl in the snow, hearts leaping into your throats as you turn toward the voice.
shoko stands a few steps away, one hand pressed to her chest like she’s catching her breath, the other already pointing accusingly at satoru. suguru lingers beside her, calmer, but his posture eases the second he sees you both.
“we’ve been worried sick,” shoko says, relief tumbling out on top of her irritation. “satoru, you said you were just checking on her and then you disappear without letting us know she’s fine! no texts, no calls, nothing!”
satoru winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “oh… sorry about that.”
but then she stops.
actually looks at the two of you.
at how close you’re still sitting despite jumping apart. at the way his knee is almost touching yours, his arm hovering awkwardly like he’s not sure where to put it now. at your embarrassed face, snow clinging to your lashes, hands still half curled like they’d only just let go of his jacket.
“…wait,” she says slowly.
her eyes widen. “oh my gosh. you two—?”
your face heats instantly. “we—”
satoru lets out a small, caught laugh. “uhh…”
there’s a beat of silence—then shoko’s expression flips completely. her mouth drops open, then curls into a grin so wide it’s almost blinding.
“are you serious?” she whispers, delighted. “is this happening right now?”
suguru exhales, something like a chuckle slipping free. “uh huh. it was about time,” he says, easy and knowing.
shoko lets out a sound that’s simply delighted, and before either of you can react, she drops straight down into the snow, arms flinging wide around both of you.
“oh my god,” she laughs, pressing her cold cheek against yours. “i’m actually going to cry. this is so overdue.”
you freeze for a moment, flustered by how close she’s pressed against you. an unrestrained giggle escapes your lips and satoru groans, trying to push her the two of you.
“okay! okay, shoko! get off!”
“what? i’m celebrating!” she protests, holding on tighter. “i’ve been waiting forever for this moment!”
satoru huffs, mock exasperated, gently trying to pry her off. “hey! hands off my girl, jeez! she’s mine!”
my girl.
you laugh through your blush, squirming a little as shoko giggles, clearly unbothered by satoru’s mock jealousy.
from the side, suguru stands with his arms crossed, snow crunching under his boots as he watches, outwardly begrudging, but the faintest crease of a smile betrays him.
“unbelievable,” he mutters, voice dry, and then, with a resigned huff, he kneels down and lets himself join the tangle of limbs on the snow.
he rests his weight next to you and whispers, “glad you’re okay.”
your bashful ‘thank you’ is swallowed by shoko squealing as she wiggles happily between you and satoru.“this is a christmas miracle!” she laughs, pressing her cheek closer to yours and tightening her grip. “i’ve been waiting forever for this!”
satoru groans, exasperated but laughing at the same time. “shoko! seriously! you’re going to crush us!”
you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, breathless and shaky, cheeks warm, heart hammering. over shoko’s shoulder, your eyes meet satoru’s—bright, steady, and impossibly blue. for a moment, the rest of the world disappears and even shoko’s excited giggles fade into the background.
his hands reach out to intertwine with yours behind shoko’s back and your fingers tighten instinctively around him when they meet.
suguru sits nearby, looking like he’s enduring the chaos, but that small invisible smile is always there to show he’s truly happy too.
snow drifts down around you, soft and quiet, and everything feels right—tangled in the snow, pressed together, hearts still racing from laughter and relief, you realize why this moment will linger in your memory.
and somehow, in the midst of it all, your world had changed to a different kind of blue than the one you’d known before.
now, it was only the blue of his eyes that mattered.
was reading some satoru smut, got a tiktok notif from one of my friends, so i clicked on it & when i switched apps back to tumblr like right away, this fuckass app refreshed -_-
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was reading some satoru smut, got a tiktok notif from one of my friends, so i clicked on it & when i switched apps back to tumblr like right away, this fuckass app refreshed -_-
It's your ten year high school reunion and there's just one person you're don't want to see, your first love - Satoru Gojo. He was the football captain, you were the cheerleader, it was that high school love that consumed you, only for it to all fall apart when Satoru broke your heart. Even after all these years, you still resent him for it, you hate him, in fact - so how do you two end up in the backseat of his sports car!?
˚⊹♡ pairings- ex bf! gojo x reader
˚⊹♡warnings- a little angsty, past emotions, high school sweethearts, you were a cheer captain and he was an allstar player, flashbacks, idiots in love, insecurities, teasing, mutual pining, longing, oral ( f receiving) fingering, squirting, riding him in the backseat, love confessions, happy ending <3
this one just randomly popped into my head out of nowhere, comments/rbs always appreciated if you enjoy! Wc- 7.3k
Art creds right here!
Ten years - it's been ten years since you saw him, your first love, your first kiss, the first everything.
High school reunion and truly the two of you look the same, he's a little buffer, his shoulders are broader, perhaps his jaw has sharpened ever so slightly - but it's undeniably him and you. Satoru Gojo - the top football player in the school and you - the pretty cheerleader who was always with him.
On him, near him, on top of him in the front seat of his sports car, smacking your head and giggling as he fucked up into you, stretching you out on his cock. He'd been sweet that first time, even as you all snuck around and parked in the middle of nowhere, even with the cramped confines.
Yet he'd been there - kissing you deep, messy and slow, pumping you up and down that veiny length as you took more and more from him, kissing you with his tongue ring clicking against your teeth. You'd whined out, desperately arching for more, shattering and fluttering your eyes shut.
The memories heat you up as you stand there across from him, trembling with your thighs pressed together, nails pressing into your palms, seeing him catching up with all his friends. He'd gone to university, but you'd gone out of state, and that was when it had all fallen apart.
The pain is there, lingering, eating at you - yet those feelings linger, the first love, the youth you all had where you couldn't get enough of each other, just for it all to end.
When those eerie blue eyes catch you across the room, however, he's not smirking, not laughing and shoving his friends, no he's got them locked on you now. Suguru and Nanami pause, peering over at you, then at each other, as you turn and rush to grab a drink.
You can't even stand to be in the same room with him after ten years.
You run into Shoko and Utahime, they give you a hug and the three of you throw back a shot, laughing a bit as you catch up with them.
“You two together, hmm?” Your lips twitch up in amusement, they look at each other and then kiss. “Stop that, you’re making me jealous!”
“Have you decided to stop being into men?”
“No I wish,” you pout and lean back, letting Shoko grab you another shot. “It’s been nothing but hell.”
“Another shithead?” Utahime asks, frowning a bit.
“Yeah, but it was three years…” You shake your head. “I shouldn’t talk about it, I’ll cry again, and I am not crying with Gojo at this party.”
“Ah, Gojo,” Utahime makes Shoko laugh. “What, I can’t stand him!”
“He’s not that bad, just an idiot,” she grabs her pack of cigarettes and starts smacking them on her palm, raising a dark brow as you look over at him, turning quickly when he catches you staring.
“You still have it bad, all these years, sweets?”
“No! Shoko!” You cover your face and shake your head. “Never again, I haven’t even spoken to him.”
“In ten years?” Shoko asks, surprise clear on her features.
“No, I’ve not even been in the country for five years, but he never reached out to me, and neither did I, aside from when his parents were sick and it was on the news. I did write to him, but he just… hearted it. I’m sure he had a lot going on.”
And that fucking hurt, that you couldn’t even comfort him, that you knew he faced a fuck ton of responsibilities now. Yet all these years Satoru hearted one of your photos, and reacted to the only message you sent – you swear the heart must have been a misclick, too.
It hurts so bad, that you were too stubborn to reach out in the darkest times, that he wouldn’t leave your memories. Sure – it faded, you went and got your master’s degree, you went abroad, now you’re back home, though, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d run into him somewhere. Yet, Satoru had been doing a lot of traveling himself this past year.
You’d know, you stalked his IG.
How pathetic after a decade to still want to know about him, but there was nothing to be done – since the breakup you’ve been even more so thinking of him.
Of how nothing ever felt like him touching you, him inside you, him looking at you the way he did. Yet it’s always overshadowed by the fact that you never heard him say those words, just three words that you craved so badly as a young girl. Even now, the words that spill from your lips never feel the same as that confession.
“He takes care of the company now, I think that’s hard for him.”
“He’s still just a dick,” Utahime says to Shoko, she laughs and shakes her head at her. “Sorry, but he is.”
“You two always hated each other,” you muse, peeking again to see him walking over. “Shit!”
“I’m… gonna smoke,” you gasp and Shoko grabs Utahime. “Outside… bye, baby!”
“You brats!” You hiss as they laugh and rush out, you tense as you smell his goddamn cologne the closer he gets.
Bergamot.
It was so distinctly him – even when he had none of it on, his smell on clean skin just did something – especially with raging hormones as a teenager. You clench your thighs just inhaling him, trying to ignore his very presence, but he’s already standing next to you, murmuring your name.
“Gojo.” He raises a brow, he’s just gotten hotter, his jaw is so cut it’s unfair, his blue eyes peeking at you.
Suddenly you’re nervous, tugging at your dress – you’re not eighteen anymore, your tits don’t sit up quite like they did, your hips widened, you’re just… different. And Satoru looks the same, if not more cut.
You become conscious of everything, almost holding your breath as he takes you in, smiling at you. His girl you’d seen him with was a fucking actress, you’re just a small town girl, nothing glamorous. Surely he wanted-
Why do you care what he wants?
Why is he sending you spiraling just coming near you?
“What do you want?” He sighs at that, the cocky grin off his face, easing back when you push at his chest just a bit, hand pausing before you tug it back, staring down into your drink.
“That’s the greeting I get, sweetheart? After a decade?”
“Should just smack you.”
“I’d probably like it,” you snort and roll your eyes, making his tentative little smile come back, sitting next to you. “Can’t I get a hi?”
“Hi,” you narrow your eyes now. “And bye.”
“God you’re mean,” he leans close, lips brushing against your ear, your heart hammers in your chest. “It’s hot on you.”
“You’re so full of it,” you lean back and sip your drink, narrowing your eyes at him. “As if you don’t have a girlfriend or five.”
“Yeah, no,” you raise a brow. “I was engaged, but that was over as of… let’s see,” he calculates in his head. “A month now.”
“Oh,” you frown, looking down at your own finger, the little change of color where the band once was. “Me too, but like two months.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you shrug a bit, seeing his eyes dart to your finger.
“He fucked my former best friend – and she got pregnant.”
“What!?”
“Yeah,” you throw back the rest of your wine, shaking your head. “Go ahead, laugh at it.”
“Why would I fucking do that?” You look at him and feel your heart pound in your chest at his face, at how he looks at you in that moment.
Fuck you missed him, didn’t you?
“You were mean then,” you whisper, and he falters, looking down, hurt clear on his features. “So mean to me at the end.”
“I know that,” it kills him to think of then, how upset he had been that you weren’t going to his university, the sheer upset of you moving, the fear of how desperately in love he was already.
He never even got to tell you.
His parents were pushing him to marry even back then, and it was anyone but you – a pretty middle class girl wasn’t up to ‘their standard’. It had killed him to try to keep up with that, but even so he never wanted to lose you – though he was scared shitless by what he felt for you, by the sheer obsession he had.
Even ten years ago he was searching for you, pictures of you where you’d moved, trying to keep tabs – fuck, last year he saw you with that fiance and almost got sick from it. His fiance was just someone his parents pushed enough, and with him having to take over their place soon, he’d gone along with it.
It’s not like he could ever love anyone after you.
There was nothing like what he felt, countless women underneath him, on top of him, bent over with their asses arched, but nothing came close to the breathless way he held you, how your lips brushed together. He wondered often if it was because you were his first love, you were so many of his firsts, no he wasn’t a virgin, but he didn’t do all the things you two did before you.
Before that it was awkward, fumbling around, he’d usually been so nervous he’d let the girls take the lead, but everything about you made him want to – the way you fell apart when he learned to eat pussy with every flick of his tongue on you. You didn’t know that, of course, he ended up being sort of a prodigy at it rather quickly.
Satoru may have been a jock, but he was also very much a nerd at heart, so he studied it all extensively – porn wasn’t even for jerking his cock, it was to learn how to make you squirt. It was to make his girlfriend feel good.
Satoru was good at making you cum.
Yet he failed in so many other areas of your relationship – royally failed, especially that day you said good bye at the airport, and he was so very fucking hurt by you. It rushes through his head – and is if he is on the same wavelength –you say it softly.
“That day at the airport, I can’t forget that,” you shake your head. “Call me petty, a ten year long grudge holder, I agree.”
“You’re not…” He trails off then, cupping your face in a way he shouldn’t.
How does Satoru remember your scent still? After a decade it’s as vivid as ever, the scent that if he even caught a whiff of it he’d search for you, even now.
That’s what scared him the most – how obsessed he was then.
How hopeless in love he was, and scared of getting hurt – only to hurt you.
*****
Ten years ago
You were trembling, tears streaming down your face – you get it, why Satoru didn’t think long distance could work, some fucking promise to be friends, but staring at him now has you furious. You see him holding back, his own eyes glassy with unshed tears, fists clenched at his sides.
“You’re happy I’m going far away,” you whisper, clutching your luggage as he glares.
“I’m not fucking happy, what?”
“You are,” you laugh then, swiping at your cheeks, hating those trails that revealed just how upset you were. “Why’d you take me here? To make the break up more permanent?”
“I don’t want to…” He didn’t want to lose you, it’s on the tip of his dumb ass eighteen your old brain to say it.
– I don’t want to lose you. –
Yet those words never spill – he just cups your face, thumb brushing a tear away, looking into the face of the girl he’s terrified of. He’s scared to feel it all, to lose you to someone, to be put under all that pressure to marry and cause you more pain. Then he didn’t truly know how to handle it.
“Wanted to feel better by saying goodbye?”
“We were friends for years before this,” he desperately cups your face, leaning low as the rush of people walk past you all, headed toward their flight, and the attendant is making her announcements. “I just want what’s best for you, how would us being across the country ever going to be okay?”
“I’d have made it work,” you had shut your eyes, tugged him close by his letterman’s jacket, the one you used to wear all the time after you both went on dates. He’d wrap it all around your shoulders, enveloping you in that scent, the warmth. Now it’s a cruel joke to have it underneath your fingers.
“I’m your first boyfriend, what if you…” He had swallowed down that bile in his throat at the thought. “What if you regret only being with me, what if you wanted more experience?”
“You think that?” You asked, lost in his eyes, unsure how he thinks you’d ever want a boy but him. “No, I-”
‘Boarding flight 111 now, five minutes to board.’
You curse, turning to leave when he slams his lips down on yours, and for just a moment you’re done for, you’re melting in his arms, hands slipping up his chest as he presses you right against one of the pillars, uncaring of who walked by. You meet his kisses, exhaling and letting his tongue slide in, the familiar barbell dancing on the roof of your mouth.
His hands are firm on your waist, pulling back and looking down at you. “I’m doing this for you.”
You glare then, shoving at him. “For me!? Leaving me?”
“You’re the one leaving!”
“No, I’m going to college, you’re the one who won’t try! I can’t believe I let you kiss me again!” you rush off and he grabs your wrist, you jerk back and glare up at him again. “I’m done. Satoru, just let me go – don’t hurt me more.”
“I don’t want you to-”
“You don’t know what you want,” he lets your wrist go, his own eyes glazing over with emotion, pretty even under the harsh lights of the airport. “You don’t get to tell me what I’ll want in the future, you don’t get to decide that for me, and you sure don’t get to tell me that this is ‘for my own good’. It hurts, and you have to deal with that.”
“Please, just,” you can’t. You can’t fall into his arms, how would you let him go? “Just keep talking to me, keep-”
“It’ll kill me,” you stepped forward and tiptoed then, kissing his lips softly, tasting the salt of both your tears. “It’ll kill me to have to talk to you when I can’t have you.”
“Sweetheart-”
“I love you,” he faltered then, you’d not said it because he hadn’t, but there was no stopping it now. “I’ll miss you, Toru.”
You rushed off before he could say anything, tears hot down your cheeks, Satoru had rushed to catch you, but you were…
Gone.
*****
“I shouldn’t have broken up with you,” you pause, leaning back in shock. “Though now you’re probably glad I did.”
“You… you’re… saying sorry?”
“Is it so surprising?” He rubs the back of his neck, you’re in shock clearly. “Guess so, I wasn’t one to admit I was wrong then.”
“Why do you say you shouldn’t have?” He sips his own drink, eyes shutting for a moment. “You feel bad how it happened?”
No, Satoru knows he’ll never feel that way about anyone – and a decade of loneliness has only made him regret that shit more. He could have three babies with you by now, have given you anything you wanted – he stalks your pages, he knows you work constantly, and he loves that. But another part of him wishes you didn’t have to, that you were taken care of.
You’d probably smack him and call him a misogynist for that shit, and he loves that about you.
He still loves that girl from high school, the woman sitting here with her face just a bit more defined, with her tits so soft and pretty looking, hips he bets would feel so good to grab as he bent her over. Thighs that he has to touch, they just look too smooth with whatever shimmery lotion you put on them.
He gives into the urge, fingertips brushing on your skin, eliciting a shaky little breath from your lips, your eyes catching each other. “Yeah, you could say I feel bad about how I did it. I never said…”
He’s not really gonna apologize is he?
“Shh,” you put a finger to his lips, he smirks a bit. “Don’t make me like you, Toru.”
“Toru, fuck, been forever since I heard that,” he grins all dopey and cute, taking your wrist in his hand, long fingers wrapping it. He presses a little kiss to your fingers, a gesture he used to do forever ago, pausing as it feels too natural.
“I don’t want to like you.” He nods a bit, thumb brushing over your knuckles, eyeing the place where that ring was.
“He was an idiot.”
“Yeah?”
“I’d know, I’m a big fucking idiot,” you laugh a bit, nodding. “Don’t agree with me!? Brat.”
“Well, you are,” you sigh then, he nips your finger hard with his sharp ass teeth, and Shoko and Utahime walk back in, watching you both.
You have the eyes of your entire graduating class on you both.
Satoru and you, the perfect couple – that perky cheerleader and the star player, voted in the yearbook to be the best couple in fact, most popular, the best looking, you name it. You and Satoru won so many they had to give them to other people – and all for what?
To hate looking at your yearbook?
To look at how happy you were?
“Do you ever wonder…” He eases your hand down now, but he doesn’t let it go. “If it was just the first love, the hormones, the high school puppy love?”
“Puppy love…” You’ve never even heard him say that word – love. Though he means it differently, it gets you. “I guess everyone’s first love is kind of epic.”
“Nah, not really,” he sips on his drink, a little droplet clinging to his lips, one of his thighs brushing against yours and you barely hold back a gasp at the contact. “I haven’t found many people that had… what we did.”
“A toxic ass relationship, nasty breakup?”
“That was some of it,” he admits, heart racing like he’s some inexperienced boy and not a grown man – you just make him feel that way.
“Yes I wonder,” you sigh, admitting it finally. “I wonder if it was hyped up in my head, if the nostalgia and the… pain of you breaking up mess with me more. All the what ifs.”
“I hurt you.” It’s a quiet little statement.
“You hurt me, and I hated you,” he looks down where your hand brushes on his thigh, covering it with his huge one. “You were a dick.”
“I know, I just-” you lean forward and kiss him before you can stop yourself, making him tense up, his hand on the small of your back tugging close as he relaxes into it, exhaling against your lips. You pull back with a little dazed look, lips glossy. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“I was trying to see if that’s what it was,” you whisper softly. “Puppy love.”
“Ah,” he tilts your chin up, kissing you again, your earrings fall back, brushing the side of your neck as he tugs you close until your ass is half off that barstool. “We should see, yeah? If it’s just nostalgia.”
“Yeah just for um… closure,” he laughs a bit, and you glare. “Closure and I’m horny and single.”
“I’ll take it,” fuck he’d take any of you. “For true nostalgia we should…”
He’s kissing down the side of your neck, your eyes flutter closed as his mouth leaves a wet trail, his tongue flicking over your racing pulse. You cling so tightly, it’s hard to let go, whining out and arching your hips, thankful there is loud music reverberating all over.
Satoru heard it, though, leaking pre and pulsing from your taste, your scent, the softness of your skin.
Fuck he can’t ever do this and hope to be ‘normal’.
But there was no way he didn’t take one night with you.
“Should what?” You murmur, biting down on your lip when he gently nips behind your ear, your nails cling to his jacket tightly.
“For old times sake, I’d say we go to my car,” you laugh then, shaking your head as he pulls back, kissing your lips again. “Lemme drink your pretty little cunt up again, finger you till you squirt all over my new seats.”
Fuck.
Fuck him, really.
“In your car? Are we in high school?” He looks around and you laugh then, shaking your head. “Fine, but I’m not as flexible, I haven’t tumbled since college.”
“I bet you still are,” he teases. “Used to fold you right in-”
“Now.”
“Now?” You hop down with his help, turning and just walking. “Wait!”
It’s moments and you all are devouring each other, stumbling against the cool brick wall outside as the night air brushes against your skin, you’re shivering as he walks you to his car – by walking, that meant him carrying your ass, cock pressing your needy cunt as your thighs wrap his hips.
The car is nicer than his in high school – a fancy ass Audi – you aren’t one to know anything about cars, but the damn thing looked like it was exactly what Satoru would drive. The expensive leather hits your senses as he slides you in, your mouths are all over each other, needy and desperate.
"Missed this," you almost don’t believe it, that he ever could, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before trailing his mouth down your jaw. "Missed you."
“You don’t…”
“No?” You sigh, shaking your head as Satoru shifts, maneuvering you both until you're lying back across the wide seats, his body covering yours, an even heavier weight than you remembered, pinning you down with his hand on your wrists, his mouth claiming yours in a bruising, possessive kiss.
It's a tight fit even with how surprisingly big the interior is, the cramped space reminding you of every stolen moment you had in his old car, sneaking before curfew, fuck you two would ditch school and go drive in that car, you’d lay your feet in his lap and just let him drive you around with the tops down. The memory of his smile, of his laugh, of his kisses all come together as he captures your very breath.
This isn't the sweet, messy kissing of teenage versions of you and Satoru – this is pent up need, a decade of frustration poured into a single, desperate kiss, his hands all over you, huge palms taking you over. Satoru’s tongue is delving in and out of the hot recesses of your mouth, tongue gliding right along yours, the click of his tongue ring against your teeth shooting every bit of memory back.
God you remember when he pierced it.
You remember him buying that vibrating tongue ring so he could eat your pussy out – and oh, he did it every time he could, no one has made you feel that way since, no one could figure your body out like him. The nostalgia hits as much as the need, the pleasure, your nails digging into the corded muscles of his shoulders over his dress shirt.
“Need more,” you whisper out, pausing then as he looks at you under his lashes. “Just tonight, right?”
He doesn’t say anything – as if he’d take only one night and be fine with that.
"Fuck, I've thought about this so often it’s pathetic," he laughs out without humor, hands slipping up your hips and bunching that little dress up your hips.
“You thought of me?” You ask, and he stares at you then – swollen lips all pretty and glossy in the night, ruining him.
You don’t think he remembers?
You don’t think he regrets it all?
He kisses you softer, nipping a plump lower lip between his sharp teeth, drinking up your little gasp. "Thought about this mouth, this body, the way you used to squirt all over me."
“Satoru…” You shake your head, moaning softly when he tugs your neckline down, hands squishing your pretty tits. “You don’t mean it.”
“No?” You shake your head, eyes rolling back in your skull when his tongue swirls around your nipple ever so slowly, tongue ring flicking that sensitive peak. “You think I forgot you, huh?”
“I know you did, ah!” His fingers find you, sliding your panties aside and swiping up and down in that mess. “Toru…”
“God please,” he’s plunging them inside you, she clamps right down, spasming as he finds that spot he remembers in those tacky walls, watching your face as he presses over and over. “Call me that again.”
“Sh-should call you dickhead,” he laughs breathlessly, curving those fingers again so that your head smacks back, almost hitting the handle in the car door, he kisses your lips as he fucks his fingers into you, the stretch making you ache. “Ngh!”
“Tight as ever, god, how…” he marvels as he plays with your cunt, all pretense gone when he looks down at you, breaking the kiss, breathless from you. “I’ve thought of you an embarrassing amount of times.”
“Don’t say it,” you sniffle just a bit. “I can’t handle it.”
“The truth?”
“I can’t believe you thought of me too…” You trail off, emotional even as you are soaking wet and needy, Satoru keeps kissing down, lower, lower, feeling his breath against your skin makes you jolt. “You didn’t.”
“I did, sweetheart, I missed this so much, the sounds you make… how soaking wet you got,” he’s running his thumb on your clit, gauging your reaction, shoving your thighs even higher. “How pretty you looked when you fell apart f’me.”
“You can’t remember,” he sighs and watches you get closer, getting you so, so close until he knows it’s not enough. He’s shoving you up, damn near folding you in half. “Ah! Toru I can’t bend like that?!”
“No?” he murmurs, big hands gripping your thighs bruisingly, pushing them up and apart, you blink a bit, gasping when he’s licking the trails of slick from your inner thigh, inhaling your cunt and bumping your clit affectionately almost. “God, your scent drives me fucking crazy, why do you have to smell s’good?”
“Do I? I – ah! Satoru, what are you…" He places an open mouthed kiss on your messy, dripping entrance, peeking up at you. “You’re um…”
“I’m starving,” he teases softly, kissing it again, you feel that pleasure shoot up your body until you’re dizzy, weak from it, so exposed to him when he tugs those panties further aside, on one side of those puffy lips. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“No…”
“Yeah, and I’ve seen alot,” you glare and he chuckles, resting his hands on those knees and flicking his tongue to gather the drops of arousal falling down between your slit. “What, ya jealous?”
“No!?” Yes.
“No?”
“No,” he smirks just a bit and then he folds you in half, those broad shoulders pressing against the backs of your thighs, forcing your knees to your chest, your dress hopelessly shoved up.
“See? Still a cheerleader,” you want to laugh but you’re smushed.
“I so am not, ah!” You're completely exposed to him then, utterly vulnerable in a way that makes you nervous.
“Relax,” he says then, softly, peeking up at you and kissing your inner thigh. “If you want me to stop, just tell me. It was enough I got to kiss you again.”
You falter, that boy you fell in love with – the sweet, nerdy one? The jock who was also an entire nerd? Goofy and yet ultimately serious Satoru Gojo, leaning his head against your inner knee, nuzzling you damn near. You’re weak then, as every feeling you’ve shoved down for over a third of your life comes back full force.
“We can go back in, or just look at the stars,” he eases up, and sees how nervous you are. “You’re so beautiful, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not in high school now,” you whisper, he eases up your body then, brushing your cheek and shaking his head.
“Neither am I, sweetheart.”
“Yet you look even better-”
“You’re even sexier, even prettier than the first time I saw you,” you kiss him again, lost in his every kiss, his every touch, afraid that he’ll just disappear, clinging to him so tightly you don’t know if you can ever let go. “You are.”
“You haven’t seen me all naked…”
“I wanna,” he grins and you giggle, even as he’s kissing up your cheeks. “I wanna see every part of you.”
God you can’t take it – it feels just like that first date all over again. “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he slides your dress up and off you then, breath catching as he takes in your body – you’ve only gotten sexier, it’s so evident when he just looks down at you, folded in half in his damn car and the prettiest thing he’s seen.
You cover yourself a bit then ease your hands off, breasts rising and falling as Satoru looks at you, his gaze heating you up before his fingers can touch. “You’re seeing all of me.”
“I am,” he grips a tit and squishes it in his hand, that familiar barbell flicking an areola, having your back arch in the cramped confines of the car, still humming softly underneath you. “Is it bad if I say I jerked it to your IG?”
“Satoru!” He’s chuckling now, grinning all big as you smack at him. “We were having a touching moment!?”
“Yeah I know,” he’s back down between your thighs, shoving them high and sighing.
“Did you really?” His lips curve up in amusement, watching your slick pussy drip down.
“You love that, huh?”
“No!?”
Yes.
“How often?” He’s laughing now.
“I’m not tellin’ ya, no way.”
“Hmmph,” he’s too gone then, every bit of this moment the very thing he’s searched for.
He could have had it.
He’ll think of that later, the hot regret of letting you go, of being young and dumb and then too fucking stubborn, for now you’re his, underneath him, looking up in that way that you used to – like he was the very stars in the sky. The ones peppering the sky overhead and shining through that little sky light in his car, illuminating your pretty body for his gaze.
“A lot. Happy?” He whispers, you just bite your lip, not answering, letting his lips graze your entrance once more.
“Satoru!” Your eyes roll back in your skull, pleasure shooting as the tip of that tongue swirls your clit lazily, like he’s got all the time in the world.
"Look at this pretty little cunt," he breathes out softly, feeling your slick coat his tongue, lapping another filthy stripe achingly slow. "Still so fucking perfect.”
“You d-don’t have to…”
“S’perfect,” he whispers, holding back what he truly wants to say.
Mine.
You’re not his, he can’t get possessive and psychotic, even when faced with your winking hole and the soft give of your thighs underneath his fingertips. He buries his face in you, his mouth hot and messy as it drinks up every bit of those juices your pussy is pouring, lavving a broad, flat stripe up your slit and slurping you up, eliciting the prettiest whines for his ears.
“Mmm, that’s it,” he whispers, flicking his tongue on your clit and groaning as he parts those lips. “She’s jumpin’ all around, fuck… look at her.”
You cry out, your fingers tangling in the soft white strands of Satoru’s hair, only for him to place them on your thighs, looking at you in that way only Satoru Gojo can.
“Hold ‘em up f’me,” he’s slurring, mouth just full of that messy cunt, swallowing it as he watches you do just that. “Good girl.”
Fuck him.
Fuck him truly and completely, for what those damn words do to you, how they have you a needy mess for him. He groans at the sight of your manicured nails pressing on the back of your thighs, the vibrations rushing on your pretty pussy, and then his tongue is inside you, fucking your hole as if he’s never forgotten how.
“Toru!” You’re quivering, thighs threatening to close, he groans, that barbell smacking your spongy spot over and over, with the same intensity he used to use with his cock.
Your first time with him flits through your mind, he’d made sure to lick your pussy for thirty minutes, even then he’d been worried he’d hurt you – even then he’d eased into you, watching your every movement. That Satoru and this one merge – the jock and the cheerleader now groan business people.
But you’re still just the two of you.
He's lavishing every crevice, every bit of your cunt like it’s worship – his tongue, his lips, the sharp edge of those fangs of his scraping against your clit just making you scream out, weak from it. He bites it again, groaning as your juices spill over his mouth, his chin, down his neck.
Satoru wants to drown in you.
"You like that, huh?" he murmurs, pulling back just enough to speak, his chin glistening embarrassingly with how much you’re gushing. He swirls two fingers down it, raising a thin white brow. "Like me eating this pussy?”
“Yes… ah!” He’s curving his fingers up, rutting his cock along the leather seats, dying to bury it inside you.
“Missed this, didn't you? Missed my tongue on you?"
You can only nod quickly and let out a pathetic little moan, wishing you could play coy or tease – but how can you, when he’s taking you over. One hand pumping fingers into you, his tongue finding your clit again, sucking it into his mouth with a mean little hum, and the cold metal of his tongue ring just flicking.
“Toru! I’m so… I’m…”
He pulls back and sighs.
You’re so beautiful like this.
“Cum for me,” he says softly, curving up one more time, and you shatter for him, peak crashing into you so hard you see stars – ones that aren’t the ones hanging in the sky. No, they’re right behind your eyelids, pussy spasming as moans escape those lips that hold you in that kiss.
Satoru eases back, curving his fingers a few more times, every slide sensitive. “Please…”
“Please what, baby?” He whispers – he hadn’t called you that since the last time you saw him, brushing your hair back and kissing you, your juices spilling into your own mouth with a push of his tongue.
“Need you.”
“I’m here-”
“Need more,” he pauses, blushing a bit and making you giggle. “What, you think I don’t want more?”
“I didn’t know,” he trails off now, sitting up and dragging you on his lap, undoing his zipper as you’re on your knees, head smacking the ceiling, Satoru chuckles and puts his hand right over it, sighing. “You want my cock inside you?”
“You’re such a jerk,” he grins now, running his hands down your waist. “You gonna make me say it?”
“Nah but it’d be fun to hear,” he frees his cock, watching the blush dance across your cheeks when faced with his pearly pink cock, thick and veiny, leaking all that white. You gather some and swirl it on your thumb, sucking it off. “God…”
It’s moments when he’s got you positioned on his cock, slamming you down in one mean stroke, filling you so full you feel him everywhere – in your stomach, so fucking deep your cervix hurts. But fuck you want it, you want more, but he holds you down for a moment, hands brutal on your hips.
“Fuck, don’t move yet,” he barely bites out those words, looking up at you underneath that fringe of lashes, breaths coming in short pants, fogging up all the car windows. “Please, baby. Hold on a sec.”
“Feel good, Toru?” You tease, he glares and bites your shoulder. “Ah! Sharp t-teeth…”
“Jus’ stay here for a minute,” he’s mumbling against your skin, exhaling at the feeling of your pussy wrapping around his cock. “You’re so warm, so tight… god you feel s’good…”
You’re holding there, cunt gripping him so tight he’s gonna bust, and he was not doing that after ten damn years. He has stamina now, he can’t bust inside you in one minute – has it even been a minute!?
“Wanna move, please,” you’re damn near whining, wriggling as he pins you even more firmly. “Toru!”
“You’re bratty still,” he murmurs, lifting you up and slamming you back down, that mess of slick pouring all over. “You want me to cum in three pumps?”
You blush then, realizing that one key thing – he’d never cum inside you, the two of you were careful to make sure it never happened. “I um… inside me?”
“Only if you wanted… god imagine breeding your cunt,” you suck in a breath as his hands press into your hips. “Breedable fucking hips, bet you’d have so many babies for me.”
“Babies!?”
“God yes, bet you’d give me three, hah…” he’s fucking lost it now, fucking up into your cunt, your head smacks his ceiling, your hand up to brace yourself as he begins to move, feet planted on the floor of the car, cock gliding in and out of your mess even faster. “Sorry baby.”
“Sorry? You’re psychotic, j-just once,” he holds you down and runs his thumb on your clit then, watching your eyes flutter closed as you cum again, this time milking him. “Ngh!”
“So beautiful, fuck,” he’s looking right at you with those blue eyes, your arms wrap his neck, letting him lift you up and down him, huge hands just using you, you’re quivering around him, cunt squelching in the backseat of that car, his lips slamming on yours and drinking down your whines.
You hear the faint noises of the party with your ringing ears, his thumb brushing faster, your tits bouncing right in his face. “Breed k-kink tracks for you…”
He chuckles, grinning up at you, painting those pretty patterns until you’re overstimulated, thighs twitching on either side of his hips, the open leather belt pressing on your heated skin. His lips are swollen when his tongue runs across them, as if to catch any lingering juices he can, his brows drawing together as he gets closer, cheeks flushed pink in the dark.
“Should I pump you full? Hmm?” Your answer is to roll your hips, making his own eyes shut, those fluffy lashes sweeping across his cheeks. He’s pinning you down, slipping that thumb in between your lips and letting you suck as his cock twitches. “I used to jerk it to your cheer pictures b-before we w-went out…”
“Toru, you freak,” you’re breathless, struggling to take that stretch, whining out as his veiny length brushes your walls, white pre kissin’ your cute little cervix with every pump. “You did?”
“Yeah,” he’s full of confessions, you guess, but that one has you blushing, even mid fuck, giggling a bit until he slams hard, your head falling back. “You love it.”
“Cum inside,” he moans – you don’t have to tell him twice – cock pumping your hole full, so much your walls are just coated, those puffy ropes flooding you. “Ah!”
You’ve never been so full, his warmth rushing in hot and sticky as you kiss him desperately, needy, shaking as your teeth click together, your mouths messy and dripping saliva. It’s filthy, the sounds of your whines mixing with the squishing and clicking of his cock pumping impossibly more, his moans filling your mouth, tongues dancing along each other as his cock keeps twitching.
“F-fuck…” He’s whimpering in your ear as he holds you tight, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping your waist as he bucks his hips up and fucks more cum inside you. “God I love you.”
“Wha-? Huh?” You must be fucked out and hearing shit, you barely blink any sense into yourself, as he pulls back, looking at you and sighing.
“I should have said it then, not let you leave thinking…” He swallows now, cupping your face with one hand, thumb slipping across your cheek reverently. “That I didn’t.”
“You can’t… I didn’t… you…” You’re trembling now as it all hits, breaths mingling as you hardly hold back. “You did then?”
“Of course I fucking loved you, how couldn’t I?” You kiss him then, tears slipping down between your mouths, salty on his tongue as his hand slips up the curve of your spine, the two of your hearts racing in your own ears. “I never stopped.”
“Don’t say that…” You pull back now, hands on his wrists. “That’s impossible, it’s been t-ten years and… you don’t know me now, and…”
“Do you still love me?” He asks, voice breaking, still intimately joined with you, easing you off and eyeing the mess that pours, sighing. “Fuck I shouldn’t ask that.”
“Yes,” he blinks a bit, looking up in shock as you go back to sitting on his lap, cunt pouring him right back down on his cock. “I never stopped loving you, even though I hated you, too. I hated you so much for so long… but I never quit loving you, Satoru.”
“I hated me too, s’okay,” you shake your head. “I did, for being so dumb. For letting you go – pushing you away.”
“We were so young, Toru… so young.”
“There was all that time we could have had this,” he sighs now, nose brushing yours, looking into your eyes with utter devotion. “I can’t let you go again. I can’t let this be once, this? I’ve never felt anything close to you.”
“I know…” you’re kissing again, forgetting about anything else, and soon you’re in Satoru’s pretty penthouse, fucked out after he’d lifted you right up on that glass, so many stories up.
After he’d ate his cum out of you, and you’d lapped your pussy off – after your friends started texting you both, making sure you’re all right since you two had disappeared. After Satoru orders you food, and the two of you are laughing in bed, and you’re in one of his big shirts, does he bring out that jacket, making you pause.
“Toru…”
“This was yours,” he exhales and throws it over your shoulders, tugging the lapels closed and kissing your head. You’re all flushed and pretty, your hair a tangled mess, that mascara long gone, swallowed by that letterman’s jacket. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
“I get to keep it this time?” You tease, but the emotions are rushing still, tummy fluttering as you toy with the snaps, the familiar scent bringing you right back.
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nsfw content mutual!gojo satoru keeps his promise by flying overseas and sending you to poundtown. part one + part two
two months… satoru’s been thinking about you for two whole months. each day felt like a time lag, and every week felt like a never ending simulation. it felt as if the earth decided to stop spinning ever since that day he witnessed you using his gift — the toy he’d replicated of his own dick.
the late-night live you streamed for your onlyfans was now a file downloaded on satoru’s phone — ever since then, he’s been finding himself constantly looking at the download. whether it was for the sole purpose of admiration, or desperation… that video never stopped circulating within satoru’s head. it was as if his mind had been corrupted with an extreme sense of want.
a ‘want’ so desired, the longing has lasted longer than sixty-one days. it’s basically became a routine: wake and hit the gym, shower and jerk of to the only nsfw downloaded on his files, eat breakfast, head to campus, head home, buy takeout, study and then doom-scroll on twitter and converse with you for the rest of his night.
and good habits, or not — satoru’s also found himself secretly getting off to the sound of your voice whenever you’d call him because for some reason, he just couldn’t discard the image of you stuffing your insides with his dildo.
the video was practically burned into his retinas, setting off an unjust trigger of frustration he’d been holding in. it was almost unbearable — he had to find some kind of way to reaching you just as he did in his dreams because the life of a cuck was never something he’d foreseen as his own reality.
satoru had to get out of japan, it was the only step that would make it possible to see you — and, the only possible way to subside his carnal craving for you. but the thing is, he needed an excuse. he needed a reason to be overseas because no matter how much he joked about giving you the real ‘thing’, and expressing how crazed you make him — that’s not enough reason to fly out, no matter how impulsive he may be.
he had to strategize it, make the reason why he’s in your hometown sound believable. he’d call it an overseas ‘collaboration’. the kind of travel that content creators do for networking purposes, expanding their growth and earning more profits — it was a perfect idea.
“hypothetically speaking… what if, and i mean what if.” satoru’s voice grows in pitch as you hear his excitement over the phone. “not again, toru. i’m tired of your ‘what if’ questions, let talk about something else.” you sigh.
satoru’s been buzzing in your ear for the past few hours about absolute nonsense. first it was about him traveling overseas for vacation, then it was about him “visiting friends” overseas — which never bothered to mention, and now here he was again.
“fine—” he pursued his lips, “last one. what iffffff.” he drags before pausing as you hum in response, but there’s an awkward beat of silence. “what iff?..” you repeat after him, before hearing him giggle like a little boy with a crush.
you raised an eyebrow, listening to satoru on the other side of the phone. the only times you’ve heard satoru giggle like a child was either because his favorite game has finally been released, or because he had something mischievous in mind.
“what if— and this is a hypothetical, okay? but what if i went overseas for a collab?” he utters out quickly, as you hear a grin creep onto his lips. “then i guess you’ll be overseas for a collab? i don’t know.” you respond slightly confused, unsure why’d he even tell you that.
“you’re no fun.” satoru huffs, and it’s safe to assume he was expecting more than just a slightly dismissive response. “i mean… why are you so intent on traveling outside the country?” you ask, “you’ve been mentioning traveling overseas every time we speak on the phone.” you’re talking while trying to figure out why satoru’s so fixated on traveling, before it it clicks to you.
“don’t tell me that collab has you losing months worth of sleep because you just can’t wait to go.” you roll your eyes with cringe, which earns an incoherent groan from satoru.
“you just wouldn’t get it.” his voice softens as he accepts quiet defeat. and it’s unfortunate really, it’s not like he could tell you that the collab would be with you without sounding like a desperate loser.
he sent you a molded figure of his dick two months ago — half jokingly, half hoping that there’s a chance that you’d use it. he honestly thought the odds were against him, until they weren’t. until that sole day he’d find himself seeing you as more than just a mutual friend, but an unfulfilled desire.
“get what, toru?” you let out a small laugh, mixed between amusement and disbelief. “get how you’re basically crushing on one of your mutuals.” you tease just enough to hit that sore spot that’s been slowly killing satoru.
“whaaat? y’ jealous?” he taunts, as if the ache within his chest is inexistent. “definitely not.” you scoff lightly.
“yeah, sureee.” he lets out a laugh. “i’m sure after using my replica, you feel a little territorial over me, no?” he adds, half a playful, half truth as he anticipated your response, but all you do is let out an inaudible laugh.
of course satoru was a menace, he always has been since the day you two became friends — but the one thing you could never get used to was his tactless behavior. either he was stupid, or just abnormally impulsive.
“nah, but i’d definitely get territorial if you’re giving out money to other women on their streams.” you jokingly tease back, but there’s truth hidden between your words before you’re hearing satoru’s laugh break your phone’s sound barrier.
“give me a personalized stream and i’ll have you set for life.” he says over the phone, as if he doesn’t have a downloaded file of you on his phone.
“you’re a college student, toru.” you deadpan your phone as if you’re on facetime. “i’ll indulge in my savings for you.” he replies, soft and stupidly, but only satoru knows there’s a hell of a lot more things he’d do for you.
“yeah, suree.” you drag sarcastically, “goodnight, toru before you make me lose the little brain cells i have left.” you wish him a good night, earning a laugh from him.
“sighhhhh!” satoru sighs the actual word out loud, “you always think i’m joking.” he says, and you can hear the pout in his voice. “but goodnight— i’ll see you tomorrow, love you.” he lets out a smooching sound before ending the call.
—
text from satoru: you home? sent at 7:38 PM
your phone buzzes on the couch’s armrest making you reach across the sofa to grab your phone.
you: no
you: did you bring me another one of your gifts ?? 🧍♀️
your fingers tap against screen of your phone, as you’re reaching to put it back down against the armrest before your phone is buzzing again.
text from satoru: WHY ARE YOU NOT AT HOMEE
text from satoru: I HAD A GIFT FOR YOU 😔😔, i was gonna tell you to open the door so you’d be surprised but NOOO you decided not to be home
the texts from satoru are coming in one after another, and you can’t help but giggle because in truth, you actually are home, but it’s not as if he could prove it.
you: 😭😭
you: it’s okay, just take the L tonight ☹️
text from satoru: this is more than a L
text from satoru: I JUST GOT SHOT FIFTY TIMES
text from satoru: BY YOU btw.
you laugh as you rise from the couch, kicking on your slippers before making your way to the front door as you unlock the door — swinging it open, before being met by a towering silhouette as you jolt in surprise.
“oh!” the lower voice exclaims.
“what the hell!?” you practically scream.
“s—surprise..!”
you raise your head to the familiar voice as your gazes meet. “satoru? oh my god?!” you let out the biggest exhale as your body fights off the adrenaline coursing through your body.
there’s no way that — that ‘gift’ satoru was spiraling about would actually be him in physical form. “are you supposed to be my gift?..” you ask shockingly, almost at a loss for words.
“… yes i— WAIT? i thought you weren’t home.” he shouts in realization, as he’s standing awkwardly at your front door. his soft blue eyes roaming all over your face, taking in every little feature as his eyes slowly make their way down before instantly flicking back up once he hears your voice.
“and i thought you were just traveling for your collab.” you purse your lips as the words taste a little bitter on your tongue, which makes satoru grin. “you’re poutin’ because i have a collab coming up?” he teases, before you’re taking a step back in your house and closing the door.
“wait, wait! i’m joking.” he hastily utters, subconsciously stopping the door with his hand before letting go as he scratches the back of his head with an awkward smile. “can i come in?”
—
satoru’s been roaming around every inch of your apartment like a curious puppy. “hmm, so this is your room?” he asks, peeking his head through the door frame.
“you can go in, you’ve seen my room a thousand times on face-time.” you insist as he trails behind you with his mouth parted like this is the most surreal experience ever.
you watch as satoru wanders around, and he’s touching everything within sight before halting at your streaming station. it’s quite a messy setup, the camera stands are fallen on the floor, your camera is tilted against the dresser while still being opened, and to make matters worse. the box you collect all of the toys gifted to you are all inside that box.
and given the curious nature satoru has he’d probably open it up without a thought. you make your across the room, towards the storage box grabbing to put it back in its proper place — your closet.
“what’s in it?” satoru questions, voice soft and inquisitive as he watches you open the closet. “uhh it’s nothing, i just use it to prop up my camera sometimes.” the lie slides off of your tongue, but you can also feel your throat getting uncomfortably dry as there’s a brief pause in satoru’s next words.
“hmm…” his eyes are practically drilling a hole into the back of your head. “i see! so you don’t use the camera stands sometimes, that’s actually smart.” he says lightly, forcing his gaze elsewhere. satoru can’t help, but fixate on how snug and thin your tank top is, or how loose and short your bottoms are.
he’s waited two months — sixty-one days and he’s finally gotten where he’s been yearning go, and there’s absolutely no way he’s going to ruin this moment. not even the bulge slowly growing inside his pants as he shakes his head to keep his thoughts more appropriate.
you finish hiding the box inside the closet, taking in a quiet inhale in attempt to calm your nerves. it was just a dumb storage box that was forgotten to be put away, but it wasn’t forgotten. no, it was satoru’s unexpected presence that made the simplest of things less casual than it should be. plus he’s practically seen your entire collection before, what’s the difference now?
you shut the regaining the composure that was lost as you look over your shoulder to see satoru already looking at you. “what are you looking at, toru.” you groaned, turning on your heels towards your bed before plopping down on the mattress.
“mind if i sit too?” he points to your bed, kicking off his shoes once you hum in response as the mattress dips beside you.
there’s nothing but silence… awkward silence. you honestly never expected things with satoru to ever be this awkward. the two of you were great friends, or great friends online that is. but maybe that weird tension between you both came from the fact that neither of you knew how to act around each other outside of a phone screen.
you steal a glance at satoru only to find him sprawled comfortably against your pillows as if he belonged there. one leg stretched across the mattress while the other bends loosely, his attention seemingly focused on his phone despite the occasional flick of his eyes toward you.
“so did you fly overseas just to stare at me in silence.” you quip with your cheek smushed into your pillow, which makes the corners of satoru mouth curl upwards. “yep, so i could look at the face all day.” he sits his phone down with a grin as you huff.
“seriously though.” you mumble into the fabric of your pillow, “what even is this collab?” you ask making satoru sigh, watching him slouch deeper into your pillow as his shirt rides up his abdomen, exposing the flex of his abs.
“just a collab somewhat outside my skill set.” he sighs, already dreading the conversation. “your skill set?” you repeat after him.
“yeah… rough, and mean.” he says, as if his entire twitter isn’t videos of him rag dolling a fleshlight and his fist. “that’s literally your middle name.” you let out a laugh while satoru lets out a whine.
“no it’s nott.” he sinks further into your pillows again, “there’s no reason to be nervous, toru— unless… you like her or something.” and there’s brief pause before satoru lets out a quiet laugh, though it sounds more nervous than anything.
“what if i did?” he asks.
“then it should be easier i’d assume.” you reply, watching the way satoru’s attention is fixated on your ceiling, “not really.” he replies back.
“why not?” you ask, completely oblivious to it all.
“becausee.. i don’t know.” he drags, throwing his body to the slide to face you as his eyes meet yours as your heart grows heavier.
he’s so close, just within a reach grasp and you can sense the change in satoru’s demeanor as he shifts closer towards you. his gaze flickers down for half a second before returning to your eyes, his lips parting like he’s debating whether or not to cross a line.
“can i ask you something.” he murmurs, as you nod. “sure.”
“want to help me practice?”
—
and maybe that’s how you found yourself straddling satoru. barricading either side of his waist with your thighs — rocking your hips into his, and grinding against the mound of his sweat pants.
“f— fuck…” satoru groans, his hands reach out to grab at your waist. the way you’re roll your hips, and slowly drag yourself against satoru’s bulge has him in a trance of him re-visioning the way you grind on all the silicone didlos you own.
the corners of his lips curl into a grin, “you gonna use me the way you use your toys?” he teases, as if you aren’t the one doing him a favor as his hands wrap around your waist, pressing you closer onto his lap as he pivots his hips up.
you let out a soft exhale which was heavier than expected as the damp fabric of your panties molded into the folds of your lips, making you feel every graze against your clit catching onto the hem of satoru’s sweatpants.
“why not.” your eyes flicker to satoru’s face as his eyes are already drawn upon yours. “i thought you needed my help…” you murmur, rolling your hips deeper against the outline of his sweats, earning a small grunt from satoru as you feel him twitch against you while inching your lips closers to his.
“you’re no different than my toys right now, right?” your breath fans against his parted lips, before pulling back as he lets out a chuckle in remembrance of exactly how crazed you make him feel. “damn, i almost forgot how mean you are to me.” satoru groans almost gutted in complete pleasure, you’d thought he’d already came.
you feel one of satoru’s thumbs tug against the hem of your shorts, indicating to take them off as you lift your hips up in response, feeling him tug them off before tossing them across the room while he’s working himself out of his sweatpants. and you can see exactly how long he’s been waiting for this very moment.
the raging bulge in his briefs are oozing pre-cum. satoru’s mind is absolutely broken, completely empty and thinking about none other than being inside you.
you can even see a little bead form on top of the cotton as satoru’s slender fingers rack down to grab a flesh full of your ass, pulling your lower half flush against him making you both moan to the blissful sensation of less cloth as your clit catches against the prominent vein of his cock.
“mmmh, shit…” he’s raising his hips to match the rhythm of his hands pressing you against him — attempting to fuck you through barricading fabric. “your clit is fuckin’ swollen— bet that’s how hard she gets grindin’ on other dicks, yeah?” satoru taunts, low and mean as he flashes a canine.
and you can feel every inch of his clothed dick dragging in-between your folds, over and over again. your chest is pressed against his, feeling your nipples harden against the material of your tank top from constantly rubbing against it.
your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him mouth words against the column of your throat as your vocal cords vibrate with a gentle laugh. “yeah she does, you jealous?” you mock, referencing a past conversation as satoru’s jaw tightens.
indeed he was, inevitably so. ever since the day he confirmed that personalized shipment overseas to your address — he was more than just jealous. and you can hear satoru grit his teeth before he’s flipping you over, back against the mattress.
the hem of your thin tank rising above your stomach, and the strap falling off your shoulder — feeling the soft strands of satoru’s silver hair brush against your forehead. your lips are parted, letting out a gasp to the sudden shock as you’re practically pinned beneath satoru as he leans over you.
he rises up, snaking his arms across the lower half of his torso before tugging his hoodie over his head, revealing each plane of his abs.
“‘m a little jealous.” he admits with a playful edge, though his actions are the complete opposite as he tosses his hoodie to the side before ducking down.
and your eyes follow his every movement, from the way his hands snake underneath your shirt before traveling down the sides of your waist to your hips.
you let out a small hitch, almost forgetting that this is just practice as his eyes focus on you — fixated on every little reaction he gets out of you. starting with the way your chest rises up and down and how whenever you both lock eyes, you immediately avert yours.
satoru chuckles amused, “do you want me to be jealous?” he murmurs, soft and intrigued before you’re muttering.
“stop going off script.” your lips purse, feeling your body run warm as the gravity of the situation finally dawns on you. satoru halts for half a second, his eyes scanning over you once more before pressing his lips against yours.
his tongue pushing against your teeth, ushering access to the inside of your mouth making you open your mouth as his tongue catches yours. exchanging saliva and making a mess as your feel once of his hands slide between your thigh and his other hand trailing up to cup your jaw, never breaking the kiss.
and there’s barely any time to breathe. not when his tongue is at the back of your throat, spit dripping down your chin as you’re moaning into his mouth from the pads of his fingers ducking into your panties as his fingers work to find your swollen clit.
satoru breaks the kiss, and there’s a little string of salvia connecting you two as you gasp for air.
“there is no script.” he breathes out hoarse, and there’s nothing holding him back now. his eyes flicker down to the hand buried inside your panties before tugging away the fabric, as he nudges your thighs further apart with his knees.
and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy on display. a moment just for him — the moment he’s waited for months on end as he pushes his hips against your bare cunt, grinding his clothed dick against your clit as you moan at the friction.
“there she is.” he groans, almost sounding frustrated by how affected he is. “been waiting fuckin’ months.” he lets your clit throb against his bulge as you shudder.
you throw one of your arms over your face, embarrassed by how much this is affecting you as well before satoru’s grabbing your wrist and pinning your hand to the side.
“c’mon, angel.” he coos, watching your teeth sink into your bottom lip. “don’t be shy, yeah? i know this pussy better than those toys do.” he lets out a quiet, almost guttural groan as if he’s remembering the countless clips he’s seen of you stuffing your pussy full.
his words travel straight to your core making your hole involuntarily twitch as you knit your eyebrows. “you talk too much.” you say quiet, and breathless before his other hand is taking your other hand and guiding it towards his pelvis, making you palm at his bulge through his briefs as he’s humping into your hand with a breathy laugh which quickly dissolves into a groan.
“feel it?” he grinds deeper into your hand, and you can feel the warmth of his stiff cock twitch against your palm as you nod. “that’s what you do to me.” he drags your hand near the band of his briefs as one of your fingers catch the hem of it, before he’s making you tug the band down freeing himself as his dick instantly springs out and slaps heavy against his lower abdomen with a groan.
“been hard the second you opened that door— almost gave me blue-balls.” he whines with a pout as his eyes drop down to the unfathomable size difference between his dick and that tiny hole he’s gonna stretch open.
and your mouth drops because there’s no way he’s going to fit inside of you. it looked physically impossible, satoru’s dick was even bigger than the molded replica he had made for you.
your throat runs dry, and you swallow hard as your fingers brush against satoru’s pelvis. “t—that’s too big…” you stammer out before pushing against his lower half as he’s swatting your hand away, before pulling you into him as his length slides in between your folds, gathering slicks as the head of his dick grazes against your clit making you both moan in unison.
“yeah?” he responds, voice shaky because there’s no disagreeing with that — not when he practically dwarfs you in every physical way possible. he watches the way his cock drags back and forth through your folds, slowly dragging down near your entrance before ghosting over it with a strained moan.
“toru…” your voice trembles a bit. you’re trying to mentally and physically prepare yourself for what’s to come as satoru uses his free hand to cup the back of your knee, pushing it towards your chest.
“yeah, baby?” he hums, rocking his hips closer against your entrance that’s squeezing around nothing. and all he earns is silence from your nervousness as he lets out a reassuring grin while unpinning your wrist with his other hand. “just relax f’me.” he drags his hips down, lining up flush against your entrance.
“m sure you’ve been stretchin’ yourself out on replicas for me this whole time.” he teases, his eyes locking onto yours. “look at me, pretty girl.” he tilts your chin gently towards him as he leans in.
“been wanting to see how pretty you look taking me for months.” he murmurs against your lips, before slowly rocking his hips into yours as the head of his cock slips past your entrance making you wince.
“crap…” satoru breathlessly chuckles, sounding a little delirious, his head dropping to your shoulder as he realigns himself with your entrance. “just one more time, angel.” he whispers, nudging his hips into yours as the tip of his dick finally sinks in.
“f- fuckk, fuck!” you choke into a whimper feeling yourself get split apart as the pressure slowly stretches you out. your hands find any kind of leverage as one of your hands claws into the back of satoru’s neck while the other digs into his bicep.
“mmmghh, you feel so—” satoru groans against your shoulder, hips stuttering for a second as if he can’t handle it — sinking deeper into you, until he’s pelvis flush against your bum as your back arches off the mattress.
his hands snake tight around your waist, engraving moon-shaped crescents into your skin his movements pause because this is the vision he’s replayed in his head a million times over.
the decision of taking his sweet time with you, and making passionate love until you’re saying ‘i love you’ —or fucking you raw until the sun comes up and you’re screaming his name.
the halt in his movement gives you time to better accommodate around his length. though the burn is still there, and your pussy feels indescribably full as the head of satoru’s cock nudge sweet against the sensitive spot inside of you.
a moan escapes from your throat, and your canines are sunken into your bottom lip. this is the moment satoru’s dreamed about, even fucked his palm to the thought of just how warm, and tight you’d feel wrapped around his dick. he lets out a low, strained groan beginning to rock his hips forward.
maybe he should be gentle with you, and watch you slowly fall apart on his dick — but that’s not the way you used his dick on stream.
satoru’s rhythm picks up, his thrusts getting meaner, and his strokes getting longer as he begins snapping his hips into you.
“shit— you’re taking me s’ good…” his lips part into a gasp as he watches the way your pussy swallows him whole with every thrust that has your body rocking up and down beneath him.
every roll of his hips causing your walls to involuntarily squeeze around him. “t— toru…” you whimper, thighs trembling within his hold as his cock drags in and out of your hole.
“mmm, that’s my name.” he hums, swallowing a moan. his eyes roaming every inch of your body before finding your face. your eyes are glossy, and your bottom lip is swollen from gnawing at it. “gonna let ‘toru fuck you the way he’s been dreamin’ about, yeah?” satoru lets out a shaky exhale.
his grip tightens around the back of your knees, as he’s shifting his position in a way that drops most of his weight onto you forcing your knees against your chest.
you choke at the sudden fullness, your eyes flicking down to see a small bump in your lower stomach. you couldn’t even talk, satoru was so deep inside of you in ways no toy could. one of your palms trail down to push against satoru’s lower abdomen, feeling the flex of his abs.
“see that?” satoru grins, pupils blown wide at the sight of him deep inside of you. his hand sliding over your stomach while pivoting his hips at an angle to hit deeper against that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.
“that little toy never reached this deep, did it?” he taunts, pressing his palm against the bulge in your stomach, making your breath hitch and your walls choking around his cock earning an escaped whimper fall from satoru’s lips.
his hips are basically moving on their own. snapping into yours as he practically pounds your pussy into the mattress. “fuckk— can’t stop.” he chokes, each thrusts sloppier than the last as you throw your head back moaning his name.
“yeah, yeah— thaat’s ittt.” he drags, as he slowly begins to lose himself. “mmhngh— keep milkin’ me just like that…”
the head of his cock is repeatedly pressing against that wet, spongy spot inside of you. “nngh, toruu!” you whine, each stroke makes your stomach feel weird and your core tighten in a way that makes your bladder swell as euphoric waves course through your veins.
you can feel satoru twitch inside of you, his hips stuttering with each thrusts. he’s ducking his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and panting against your skin.
the sound of bare skin slapping against each other, and the exchanges of whimpering and moaning bounce off the walls. “s-shit… hated watching those streams knowin’ it wasn’t me.” he grits, panting against your neck.
“should’ve been me.” his voice quakes, muttering into your skin, almost sounding frustrated by it as he drools against your neck. “i should’ve been the one making you feel this good, not some fuckin’ toy.” he moans into you, and his pelvis flush against yours.
his dick nuzzling sweet against your cervix. your breath catching in your throat with your mouth open, “fuck, fuckk— ‘m cummingg!” you shriek. your legs shaking in satoru hold, as your nails rack desperately against satoru’s back as your spine lifts off the mattress.
your body seizing at the orgasmic wave of pleasure shooting throughout your body as your vision flashes white. a plethora of broken whimpers spill past your lips, eyes shut tight — feeling every drag of satoru’s dick against your sensitive walls as he chases his high.
“‘m close.” he exhales, as your pussy strangles his dick, milking him with every thrust as he feels himself involuntarily spill inside of you. his hips are slamming into yours, thrust gut-deep before nuzzling his length as deep as possible into your pussy as his cock swells inside of you before pulling out.
instantly spurting cum onto your stomach as he grinds against your body as you’re both moaning, trying to catch your breaths.
you let out somewhat of a incoherent sigh as satoru collapses on top of you — sticky bodies flush against each other.
“so…” you sigh, snaking one of your hands against the back of satoru’s head, running your fingers through his soft locks as his arms wrapped around your torso.
“are you ready for your collab.” you ask, muscles feeling like jelly as you play in his hair. “yeah.” he hums absently, “i can go more rounds…” he breathlessly laughs.
gummygunk
stormborns
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