#bully!geto

"you two are ridiculous," you muttered, trying to sidestep. gojo slid with you, "ridiculously sexy, you mean." his pearly teeth flashed. "don’t fool yourself. you love the attention. if not, you wouldn’t have shown."

"you did agree to meet us here, though. not very convincing if rejection was the plan." geto added, bracing a palm beside your head so as to box you in with no avenue to slip away. your nostrils flared. the audacity! the strongest duo literally think they can get away with anything just because they're hot.

"i came to get my notes back. because you stole them."

"and you'll get them back," geto promised smoothly, gaze dropping to where gojo's hand toyed at the hem of your skirt. "but first, answer honestly—do you want this?" something in his mauve eyes gutted your judgment.

you hated how your voice caught. "…yes."

satoru lit up instantly, like a kid on christmas morning. "ha! i told you! knew she couldn't resist me." he wasted no time slipping a hand beneath your skirt, palm grinding over your panties. the contact made you jolt, back hitting the locker with a metallic clang that echoed through the empty hallway. "try to keep quiet. people could walk by any second." geto advised kindly.

"then maybe don’t do this in a damn hallway," you hissed, bravado cracking when gojo pressed the length of his finger along your clothed slit, rubbing the damp fabric against the seam of your folds. whatever snarky comeback you held dissolved on the tip of your tongue when his fingers finally slipped beneath, sliding through your slick before pushing inside. the pornographic moan that tore from your throat was humiliatingly loud.

"knew it," gojo crowed in triumph, two long fingers pumping into you, curling with rhythmic precision. "fuck—she's so tight. you gotta feel this."

"careful, satoru." suguru murmured, catching your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "she said yes. don't make her regret it."

"hah. don't be a worrywart," his thumb rubbed reassuringly at your clit. "she's loving every second. aren't you, baby?" your only answer was to clutch his wrist, not to push him off but to anchor yourself against the flood of pleasure. geto, smooth as ever, let his hand slide from your jaw down the column of your throat, lingering on your collarbone before cupping your breast through your blouse. his thumb rolled lazily over your nipple, coaxing another gasp as satoru worked you harder.

"now—give me back my notes," you panted. the dark haired boy's eyes widened with such innocence it almost fooled you.