🐧 Elite Penguin 🐧

Gojo knew you hated the nicknames he called you and yet he refused to stop. You even had to discipline him once when he called you “love”, going a few days without speaking to him though you’re still not sure if that hurt him more or you, what with your high sex drive.

“Mmm.” He presses his forehead to yours and quickly pecks your lips, his hard-on pressing against your thigh through his shorts. “Now it’s my turn.”

His mouth dropped to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave you yet another hickey you’d have to explain to your friends who were under the impression you weren’t seeing anyone since you dropped your last guy. 

You barely had time to process it before he was moving his head back up and kissing you again, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You sunk into it, arms wrapping around his neck and forgetting once again about your little no kissing rule. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, before sliding down to grip your ass.

Gojo grinds his hard length into you and you moan into his mouth, your pussy clenching and begging for more. 

Just as he was about to take his shirt off, a knock came from the door and made you both freeze, your eyes widening in a panic. Fuck, if anyone knew Gojo was in here you’d never hear the end of it.

"Oi!" Shoko's voice echoed through the hallway and it sent your pulse racing. "Open up! I forgot my key again!"

“Closet, now.” You practically hiss, pushing him off of you so you can stand and dress yourself. You were bouncing around the room, jumping into your pajama shorts and shoving Gojo toward the closet, your heart in your ass because the last thing you needed was your friend finding out you had been screwing her friend that you claimed to hate.. 

Of course, being the insufferable man that he was, Gojo simply took it as a joke and tried to kiss you as you opened the door and pushed him into the closet full of yours and Shoko’s clothes. You pushed his face away with a nasty glare, your cheeks flushed and thighs sticky with your release and his spit. 

"You’re seriously gonna stuff me in a clos-"

You shoved him back and slammed the door in his face.

"Coming!" You quickly press down your shirt and smooth out your shorts and hair before moving to open the door for your roommate, praying she wouldn’t notice your messy hair and flushed cheeks and put two and two together. 

Most of all you hoped Gojo would keep his fucking mouth shut. Bringing him here had been a terrible idea but he was already on campus when you texted him and you were horny now and didn't want to drive back to his place. 

When you finally open the door, Shoko is standing on the other side with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows scrunched together. You smile awkwardly and pull the door further open so she can pass through. 

“Sorry. Left my keys in the psych building.” 

You clear your throat and smile, closing the door and following her further into the room while pretending like vomit wasn't rising in your throat and your heart wasn’t trying to escape your ribcage. 

"What were you doing anyways?" Shoko asks, pushing past you with suspicion written on her face. "I was standing out there for like three minutes."

"Sorry, I was.." You paused, willing your voice to not sound so high pitched, pulling your rising shirt down. "I was in the bathroom."

It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you with the way she’s looking at you, studying your face and looking you up and down and you want to die. How embarrassing would it be to get caught with Gojo of all people after complaining about his existence since freshman year? 

“Hm, you look flushed.” 

“Yeah, just.. uhm- I just was working out” 

Shoko rolls her eyes and starts to look around her side of the room, giving you a second to look at the closet and make sure Gojo didn't decide that he did in fact hate you after all and expose himself. 

The door was still closed. At this rate you would be the one to expose yourself by panicking over nothing. 

“Were you masturbating?”

Your friend's words have you snapping your head toward her, hair flying in your burning face. No Shoko, I wasn’t masturbating. My enemy just gave me a mind shattering orgasm on his tongue alone and would have done it again if you didn’t interrupt. Any more questions?

Is what you wanted to say, but instead you swallow your annoyance and stick with: ‘No, what makes you ask that?” 

"Your face is basically glowing, your hair's messed up, and you took forever to open the door." Shoko shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you were, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does it. I do it. It's healthy."

Then, for a reason you’d never understand, Gojo decided that now was the best time to laugh. It was low, barely audible but loud enough to make Shoko look toward it with scrunched eyebrows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! You were going to kill that six foot idiot. What the fuck was he thinking? You were a shaky, sweating mess when your friend turned to look at you, her eyes burning holes through your face. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?” 

She gestures wildly with her arms and nods past you, obviously annoyed at your decision to play dumb. “The noise from the closet! Do you have someone over?” 

“I-” You swallow hard, fingers digging into your nails as you try to find a way out of this. 

You obviously weren’t going to tell her it was Gojo, but if you did tell her you were hiding someone then she’d never stop trying to figure out who it was. It would be a nightmare and you would have to be twenty times more careful with Gojo or cut off your arrangement before you were able to find a replacement. 

Either way, you were fucked.

“Yes.” You huff out, hoping she doesn’t push further and ask who it is but before she can respond, you’re speaking again in an attempt to distract her. "How was the library? Did you finish your paper?" 

Shoko stared at the closet for a few more seconds then decided it wasn't worth investigating. She, thankfully, had never really been a noisy girl and you were grateful that she was your roommate instead of Yuki who would have ripped the door open herself.

"Almost. I need another hour, but I forgot my charger and my laptop's at six percent."

When she finally left, you stomped your way to the closet and yanked it open. You were beyond seething, ears on fire from embarrassment and annoyed that you had to tell Shoko you were in fact seeing someone when you wanted this to be left in the dark.

Gojo was wedged between clothes and a shoe rack, his hair slightly disheveled, grinning like a fucking idiot. You wanted to kill him.

“That was close.” He grabs your hip and walks you backwards, trying to kiss at your neck but you’re having any of it, placing your hands at his chest and shoving. 

“What?” Gojo frowns at you and gives you his best puppy eyes but it only makes you want to hit him more. You cross your arms to stop yourself, head tilted back so you can look up at him.  

“It was ‘close’ because of you! I told you to be quiet and you couldn’t even do that. I should end this right here since you’re apparently a child.”

That wiped the smirk off his face and he was stepping closer, grabbing onto your arm to pull you forward and you let him this time. His hands find your waist again and rub circles on your exposed skin, your body shivering in response. 

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” He lets his fingers creep under your shirt, moving higher. “Now where were we?”

“Nowhere. We’re done.” 

“Oh come on. I’m literally in pain, don’t leave me with blue balls, princess.” He pulls you flush against his chest but you push back, ignoring every instinct telling you that one quickie wouldn’t hurt.

“No Gojo. I have to work in an hour. I need to shower, eat and get across campus, we’re done here. Go home and figure it out.” 

He pouts but you’ve seen enough, leaving him to figure it out as you move toward the bathroom and close the door behind you. You were still pissed at him but even more mad at yourself for still wanting him to fuck you after he almost blew your cover to Shoko. You didn’t really have work today but a cold shower and time to yourself was needed. 

“I’ll pay you double whatever your job would.” His voice comes from behind the door, clearly not ready to give up.

Your hand stopped above the shower knob, turning to face the door in disbelief. "What?"

"Your job, sweetheart. Whatever you'd make tonight, times it by two, or three, whatever you want. Just call out and let me stay a little longer."

"Are you serious right now?” You blink, a mix of frustration and amusement coursing through you. “I'm not a prostitute, Gojo."

He doesn’t respond for a minute and just when you think he’s gone, he opens his mouth again. "You're not. I'm just saying your time is worth something, and I'm offering to compensate you for it."

You actually laugh at that, leaning your head against the bathroom door and fighting the urge to scream. "That is literally what a prostitute is."

"Semantics, it's also what a consultant is."

You open the door, deadpanning the too tall frat president, and point to the front entrance.

"Get. Out."

Later that day Gojo was sitting at some shitty bar with his friends, trying to drown out his emotions that were determined to consume him whole. 

The same thought has been nagging him for the past two weeks. It wasn’t something he admitted to anyone outside of you, but he had been thinking of leaving his fraternity. Would his father be happy? Probably not. Did Gojo care? Not anymore. He hadn’t even intended on getting into a frat until his father told him he had already signed up on his first day. 

Now here he was, a senior, making his own money as an employee of his family business and desperately trying to find a way out of this without blowing up his life. He never wanted to be president but it was another thing that was expected of him so he did it with a forced smile and he never regretted anything more in his life.

Before you came along, Gojo could get any girl he wanted. He never had to work hard to get laid, never cared for relationships either until you humbled him in front of his frat brothers and he just knew he had to have you. 

He tried to win your favor over the next two years but when you weren’t avoiding him, you were reminding him just how much you hate frat boys and that he wasn’t your type. So imagine his surprise when you agreed to his proposal of enemies with benefits, though he truthfully had never hated you.

Gojo was trying to be better. Hosting less parties and letting Sukuna and the others take over more, drinking only once or twice a week, focusing more on school work to impress you and even wearing his glasses more and dressing in those nerdy clothes he knew you liked. 

People questioned his new sense of style, his friends grew concerned over his lack of involvement and Gojo grew more desperate with each rejection from you. He just needed one date to show you that he can be the guy you deserved, why couldn’t you see the effort he’d been putting in? 

While it was obvious you didn’t hate him like you used to, he still was miles away from becoming your friend let alone your boyfriend. Most people would have taken a hint by now, but Satoru Gojo was not most people. He only grew more motivated, determined to show you that he was worthy of being loved back.

“You look miserable."

Gojo looks up from his drink to find Suguru staring at him over the rim of his drink, his dark eyes searching for answers that he wasn’t willing to give. If Gojo told anyone about your relationship, he’d be violating your trust and he was sure he’d lose you forever. He wasn’t going to do that to satisfy his friend's curiosity. 

So he simply shrugs and takes another shot, trying to wipe the image of your smile from his head. 

“Fuck off.” Gojo picks up a new glass and tries to take a shot but Sukuna snatches it before he can and stretches his arm to keep it away, not at all bothered by the death glare his friend gave him. 

“He’s been a pussy since he caught feelings for someone he knows hates him.” He tosses it back.

What? You never said he couldn’t tell people he liked you. 

“Drink piss, you overgrown carebear. She doesn’t hate me.” While he knew it wasn’t completely the truth, he let himself live in his delusions. What was the saying? Fake it until you make it. He was simply manifesting your future together.

“Maybe I should shoot my shot, she’s nice enough to me.” 

Suguru’s words have Gojo instantly fuming, snapping his head in his friend's direction and wondering if his smug smile is how you view him when he’s teasing you. 

“The fuck? You’d actually do that?"

Suguru simply shrugs, unfazed. "Why not? If she’s into me, then you know she’s not into you and you can move on. If she’s not? Well, then it turns out we’re both losers." He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Gojo’s face. "Might even be fun to see how desperate you get. How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?”

Gojo’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop himself from something he’d regret. Something close to: Doubt she’d even look at you when she’s too busy bouncing on my dick.

The thought of Suguru, with his stupidly perfect smile and raven hair the girls loved, making a move on you made his stomach twist. He knew his friend could pull it off. Half the girls on campus already had a crush on him and you weren’t really his girlfriend, you could do whatever you wanted.

But Gojo was never one to back down, holding Suguru’s gaze and shrugging. He would just have to work harder, spend more time with you because there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone else, let alone his childhood friend, have you.

“Why did you join a frat anyways?” 

You asked Gojo, looking up from your laptop and across the table. Gojo was wearing his glasses again and you had to keep squeezing your thighs together. That’s not what you were here for. You both had decided to get in a quick study session before the first game of the season, where he'd be playing and you’d be cheering. 

It’s been some weeks since you started your arrangement and in that time, you’d been fucking almost everyday and spending most nights at his place under the guise that it was easier studying wise.

“Wasn’t by choice, princess.” His jaw clenched, hand squeezing around the pencil he had been holding, knuckles turning white from the force. 

You wanted to laugh at that but you had never seen Gojo show true anger before and figured now wasn’t the best time for that. You still weren’t going to let up though. 

“How is that not your choice?” You shift in your chair, ignoring the way his eyes are gazing into yours so softly, even though he was clearly annoyed at your question.

Gojo sighs, dropping the pencil and sitting back in the chair, letting it spin side to side as he stares at you with a titled head. “Generations of my male family members have attended Theta Phi, my dad kinda signed me up without my knowledge.” 

You frown, biting the inside of your cheek when his leg rises and he brushes his foot against the inside of your thigh. Your body buzzes with the way he laughs at your glare, reaching down to swap it away. 

“How can he even do that? Couldn’t you just.. I don't know, not go?” 

Gojo laughs again but it’s more bitter this time, rotten with parental issues you probably shouldn’t get into considering you had your own and discussing your personal lives wasn’t a part of your agreement.

“Now who sounds privileged?” 

You give him a straight face, foot lightly kicking at him and rolling your eyes when he grins.

“I’m being serious. My mom wanted me to do gymnastics on a professional level and I had no interest so I just didn’t do it. She eventually got over it.” You shrug.

Well your mom wasn’t completely over it but that wasn’t your business. You made your own discussions and what others felt about them was on them. You’d barely talked to her since you broke the news to her freshman year and your father had died when you were a child so you really only had your sister, with the occasional birthday or holiday text from your mom. 

“Not that easy in the Gojo dynasty.” He emphasizes the last word and you can tell by his sneer just how much he hates his family,

“I told him I wasn't doing it. Told him of my dream to become a physics professor and he laughed in my face and threatened to not pay my tuition if I didn’t join.” 

He pauses, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

“My family is filthy rich but you don’t get anything for free. You have to prove that you're worthy of a college inheritance, a spot in the wills, and a position in the family business. My father told me if I didn’t join the frat then I’d only have a spot in the will after college. Didn’t want to graduate with loans so I played along.”

You blinked, the heart that most people claim you don’t have, suddenly aching for Gojo. You hadn’t considered that his family might be a bunch of money hoarding psychopaths but you guessed it made sense with their status. 

You never had to worry about your mother paying your tuition, she couldn’t afford it anyways. You survived off of a scholarship and your own income from jobs you worked since you were sixteen. The only thing you had to do was keep your grades up and not be reckless with your money. 

You were suddenly grateful to have grown up on the poorer side, because you couldn’t imagine having someone dangle money over your head. Let alone your own parents.

“Physics? Didn’t peg you as the type.” You lean forward and smile softly, elbows on the table with your hands folded in front of you.

He mimics you, eyes brightening and seeming grateful you were changing to topic.

“What? The glasses and secret nerdy clothes didn’t give me away?” His foot plays with yours and you let it, biting back a moan when you think about how his glasses fog up when he fucks you with them on, messy white hair falling in his face.

You had noticed the different physics books lying about his room but never really thought much about it. You couldn’t understand how a parent could treat their child like an investment and not an actual human. With his family money, Gojo could have been one of those students that chased their dreams instead of fortune and actually been happy.

While you still thought he was arrogant and still hated fratboys, this opened a new side of him to you. A side you could empathize with. 

“Seriously though Gojo, I'm sorry your family is so shit.”

He leans an elbow on the table, placing his chin in palm and giving you the dreamiest smile, lashes brushing together when he blinks slowly. “Aw, you feel bad for me, princess?”

“No.” Your cheeks burn and you sit back in your chair. Of course he’d ruin this, you were never being nice to him again! “Merely pointing out a fact.” 

He pouts and stands. “Well now I'm sad. How about you make me feel better?”

When he pulls you from your seat, you let him, heart racing because this would be the second time this week that Gojo has fucked in you in this very study room, libarians oblivious to the shenanigans the two horny college students were up to. 

He grabs your chin while you place your hands on his chest, steadying yourself as he pulls you close. When he leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but he goes straight for your neck. He’s sucking and biting, and you’re hardly trying to shove him off, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your heated skin. 

“We have to- mmm, we have to be quick Toru. You have a game and I have to cheer for it, remember?”

He spins you toward the table, pushing you forward and waiting for you to brace yourself. thump! thump! thump! Your heart is going a mile a minute as you dig your hands into the desk, biting your lip when he reaches forward and unbuttons your pants, slowly pulling them down to your feet. 

When he rises, you can feel his breath blowing on the back of your calves.. higher to your thighs.. Just beneath your ass and he’s leaving a kiss there, fingers coming up to rub your pussy through your panties. 

You suck in a sharp breath and he licks a long strip from your clit to your hole, not bothering to move the fabric. 

“Did you know,” He starts, pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing, holding your leg tight to keep you still. “psychology says that the more you hate someone, the more you fixate on them and that it can turn into passion.”

You bite your lip, moving your hips back for more friction and growing annoyed when he holds you dead still, lightly tapping at your thigh as a warning. These were the only moments you’d ever bite your tongue, because while you loved to dom him, you loved for him to dominate you more. 

"Do you love me yet, sweetheart?"

“Fuck you, S-satoru.” 

He laughs, kissing your ass before standing up, the sound of him digging through his pockets and ripping open the condom sending chills through your body.

Gojo pushes his boxers down and slides the condom onto his cock with ease, holding onto your ass and taking a moment to breathe because the sight of you was almost too good to be true. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking soaked for me, you want me to fuck you now?” 

You push your hips against him, the warmth of his girthy cock rubbing against your ass. “Fucking obviously.”

"Ask nicely." He’s back to his teasing voice and you want to rip your hair out. It’s been a day since you had sex and you needed him desperately, even if you’d never tell him that.

"Gojo." You groan, fingers burning from how hard they dug into the wooden table.

"That's not nice." He leans over your back, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. "Try again."

You grabbed his wrist and dug your nails in. "If you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm going home."

Gojo laughs out a “That’s my girl.” and kisses you quickly before pulling back up. 

He moves your panties out of the way and pushes inside in one smooth motion. You gasp, spine arching when he pushes it down, pulling you further back onto his cock. He was thick, stretching you open so perfectly, your walls gripping around him possessively.  

Gojo sets a brutal pace from the start, his hips slamming against your ass with each thrust. The table creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about someone hearing, but the thought was distant, drowned out by the pleasure building low in your belly.

You cover your mouth with your hand, biting down onto your palm when he wraps your hair in his fist and pulls your head back, scalp burning from the sting of it. 

“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” His voice was strained, losing some of its usual cocky smoothness as lost himself in your cunt. "Acting like you’re too good for me, but your pussy tells a different story.”

You hate him, you really fucking do. You wanted to snap back at him, to say something cruel, but he angled his hips just right and hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. All that came out was a moan, loud and shameless in the quiet library.

He slows his hips just a little, yanking your body up against his. You glare at him but he doesn’t care, just grabs your jaw and squeezes until you move your hand. 

“You want the entire library to know how well you take my cock?” He asks, peering down at you and you once again, find yourself drifting in his eyes, pulse skipping beats from the way he looks at you. 

You can’t speak so you just shake your head no, licking your bottom lip and pushing your hips back against him. He leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and moving his hand to rub your clit. 

“Then shut the fuck up, princess.” 

Gojo doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond before he’s slamming his hips back into yours, cock rubbing against your gummy walls and sending you spiraling. You were so close, inner walls clenching around him, your whole body trembling with the effort of holding back, waiting for him.

“Fucking pussy squeezing the life out of me, shit, gonna cum already, princess.”

Gojo never slows his pace, your lower body bumping into the table with each brutal thrust, his hand on your clit rubbing harsh circles. Tears seep from your eyes and you don’t see it but they fall from his too and straight into your hair, his free arm wrapping around body and pulling you close.

He leans his head down to your neck, sniffing deep and inhaling in your scent, mind spinning from your pheromones and his eyes rolling back. He squeezes you tight, the sound of his erratic breathing in your ear, clouding your senses, driving you fucking insane.

You hated to admit it but you loved when he was clingly like this, taking up your space while he fucked and prasied you. You often think of how different things could have been if he wasn’t who he was. 

After one hard thrust, your knees buckled and you fell forward, Gojo going down with you. Your cheek laid against the cold surface, and Gojo hovered over you, his chest against your back, his mouth next to your ear.

“You drive me crazy, fuck, just let me make you mine already. Please, baby. Give me a chance.”

You wheeze out a laugh and he shifts his angle, hitting something that made your toes curl inside your sneakers, and the laugh turned into a whimper that you muffled against your own arm.

Gojo noticed, because of course he did. He adjusted, angling his hips to hit that spot again, and again, and again, each thrust a deliberate press that made your vision blur. 

He looked at you and grounded low in his throat. Your eyes were half-closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He was claiming you in body and soul and you didn’t even realize it yet. The only trick was your stubborn mind, getting you to see that you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. 

"Say you want this. Say you want me." He kisses you and looks you in the eyes as he fucks you, his own pleading.

You squeeze your eyes shut up, biting into your fist to keep quiet as your orgasm crept up on you. 

He made a sound of annoyance and slammed into you, your teeth greeting, nails leaving marks on the table that would surely tell anyone else what happened here. The orgasm that had been building crashed into you without warning, rolling through you in waves that made your thighs shake and your breath come in short, ragged gasps. 

You bit down on your own tongue to keep quiet and tasted salt and blood.

Gojo’s rhythm faltered, his grip on your hip tightening as he fucked you through it. Slower now, deeper, grinding his hips against your ass on every downstroke. You were still clenching around him when his breathing changed and his forehead dropped to your shoulder.

"Close," he huffed.

"Then finish."

He thrust three more times, balls squeezing as he groaned with each stroke, and then he buried himself deep and held still. His legs strained and shook as he drained himself inside of you, and you felt the pulse of his cock through the condom, felt the way his whole body tensed and then released. 

His breath was hot and uneven against your shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment, his weight pressing you into the table, both of you breathing hard.

You let him stay like that for a minute, the heat of his chest pressed against your back and your eyes fluttering closed as you came back down to earth. Something had changed this time and you couldn’t tell what it was but you felt it deep in your soul and it scared the fuck out of you.

Just when you were about to tell him to get off, he started to slowly pull out. 

You felt the warmth immediately, the wet cum against your thigh. You turned your head, looking down between your bodies, and saw it. The condom had fucking ripped at the top!

"Gojo."

He stood up and looked at you, expression going from satisfied to panicked in about half a second.

"What’s wrong?"

You point to his cock, hair matching his and sticking to your sweaty face. "That’s what’s wrong."

"Shit." He grabbed the condom off his half hard cock and held it up. It was still mostly intact, but the seal had in fact broken at the base. "Shit, I’m sorry. How much got in you?"

“Just get something I can clean myself with.” You fight the urge to curse him out, knowing it wasn’t really his fault. You trusted that Gojo was only sleeping with you and you were on birth control so that wasn’t an issue. But what exactly was the problem? 

Gojo pulls his pants and boxers back, moving around the table to grab a box of tissue at one of the desks and handing you a few. He watched as you wiped between your thighs, cum leaking from your pussy and the sight has his cock twitching in his jeans. Something possessive and nasty at the thought of you leaking with his seed while Suguru tried to steal you from him. 

“I’m on the pill, remember? Relax.” You notice his strained face and wrongly assume it’s because he’s having a pregnancy scare. You had no fucking idea. 

When you’re both decent enough, Gojo stops you before you leave out, hand on your arm as he stares down at you. You raise a brow, eyes wandering and fighting back a smile at the sight of your strawberry lipstick on the side of his mouth. Hot.

"Suguru asked about you.” 

You give a confused smile, wondering what that had to do with you. You like Suguru, you weren’t close but still friends. Why would he be asking Gojo about you? The thought made your stomach ache.

“Did he?”

Gojo looks like he’s trying to keep his annoyance in check, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Mhm, I think he likes you. Said he’s gonna try to make a move on you.” 

Your frown this time, even more confused than before. Sure, you thought he was cute that one time during freshman year but you never really thought much about him outside of the very few times you hung out with the girls. 

“I don't date frat boys."

"Right. You just sleep with them."

You can hear the malice in his voice and now you’re annoyed, not wanting anything to do with whatever rivalry he and Suguru had going on. You snatch your arm away from him and deadpan him, a storm quietly building in your chest.

“I sleep with you.” You correct him. “A serious lapse of judgement, not a fucking pattern. I’m not interested in your friend.”

Gojo scuffs, taking a step back with hurt in his eyes. “A lapse of judgement? That’s what we’re calling this?” 

“That’s exactly what we’re calling this.” You say with more venom than you mean to, annoyed that he was accusing you of something you hadn’t even done nor had any plans to. 

“Keep lying to yourself, (name). I won’t be around to watch it.” 

He pushes past you and you’re left confused on what the fuck just happened.

A week goes by without you seeing each other. Gojo doesn’t call or text, so you don’t either. 

You pretend that the anonymous flowers placed outside of your door aren’t from him, that the late night deliveries of beef bowls or your favorite sweets weren’t placed there by a certain 6’3 white haired frat president. 

He was mad at you for something you didn’t do and while you told yourself you didn’t care, you hated the permanent knot in your stomach. You had grown used to spending most of your nights at his place, asleep in his bed and waking up to him with his arms wrapped around you. 

You told yourself that you hated it, hated him, but the truth was you weren’t sure what you felt anymore. 

You didn’t love Gojo but you had learned to tolerate his presence, even felt your ice cold heart melting a bit around him. You told yourself that this was simply sex, but you had unknowingly found yourself finding comfort in his presence. So having your new norm snatched away from you made you feel sick. 

So what did you do? You ignored him.

You go back to using your toys to get off, even if it does nothing but leave you sexually frustrated once again. You work on your project alone and send him copies of your research notes through google drive, but that’s as far as communication between you two went.

You had never in your life begged a man to speak to you, to take you back and you weren’t going to start now. Gojo was a frat boy at the end of the day, maybe it was for the best that you cut things off. 

It’s better this way. 

"You look like shit," Shoko says, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bathroom with a mascara wand in one hand.

"Thanks," you muttered, not looking up from the sink.

You didn’t want to go out, would rather stay home and get ahead of school work but your friends wouldn’t hear it. They told you that you were too depressed and it was making them depressed and when you tried to argue, they literally pulled up texts to show the difference in the way you texted a week ago vs now. 

You didn’t deny that you were a bit drier than usual but blamed it on school and cheer stress, what will all the games going on. 

They didn’t believe it, which is why you found yourself fixing your hair and makeup, and squeezing into a body tight red dress. Girls night out at the club, dress your sluttiest! Yuki had said. 

"I'm serious. Are you sick? Are you dying? Should I call someone?"

"I'm not dying, Shoko."

She sighs and looks over at you but you don’t face her. Can’t face her. "Then what's wrong with you?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You turned off the faucet and dried your hands on the towel, avoiding eye contact because Shoko had this creepy way of reading people, and right now you did not want to be fucking read.

You were going to get pissy drunk and forget that you ever agreed to that stupid arrangement in the first place. 

You meet Yuki and Utahime at the club around eight, annoyed that your boobs keep spilling out of your top and the way men that were definitely married with children keep looking at you. 

It was at that moment that you realized when Gojo had been leaving you covered in hickeys, no one ever batted an eye at you and now that most had faded, heads were starting to turn again. 

It made you hate him more for doing this to you. Making you so fucking stupid. 

The club was packed, some DJ from out of town was performing (he wouldn’t stop saying it), and the bass was already rattling in your chest before you even got to your reserved booth. Yuki ordered a round of shots as soon as you sat, and Utahime was already scanning the room for cute guys. You could feel Shoko looking but tried your best to ignore her, skin tight with an annoying wave of anxiety. 

You had the sudden urge to throw up and were thankful when Yuki arrived with drinks, immediately grabbing a shot glass and tossing it back. 

Utahime leaned across the table, her purple hair falling in her face as she looked at you with concerned eyes that pissed you off. Everyone was treating you like a baby when you were fine! 

“Okay seriously, what’s going on? You look like you’re experiencing your first heartbreak.” 

You blink, feigning innocence with a forced smile. “What do you mean?”

"You've been weird lately," Yuki added, not even trying to be subtle about it because she never gave a fuck. "Like, mopey and it’s concerning but annoying."

You roll your eyes. They’re being dramatic as usual. Just because you hadn’t been fucked in seven days didn’t mean you were mopey. Sure, your pussy literally ached every day to be fucked but that you always took care of it, even if your sex drive only grew more and more. 

“I’m fine. I’m just tired from studying for midterms.” 

“Look.” Shoko cuts in, taking a shot and turning to face you better. She takes your hand in yours and you fight the urge to snatch it away. 

“I don’t know who that guy was, but it seemed like he really made you happy. Maybe reach out to him and try to fix things. I hate to see you down.” 

You scuff, lightly pulling your hand away and tasking another shot. “There is no other guy.”

“Really? So what about when I caught you hiding a guy in the closet like two weeks ago, that was a lie?”

Your face flushed at the memory but you swallow it and hide deep in your heart, veins jumping at the image of his face.

“Whoever he is,” Yuki continues. “you should have hot make up sex or whatever. You've been down since whatever happened, and life's too short to be miserable over a boy."

"Can you all just fuck off?” You snap, anger burning hot in your chest. “Seriously. I'm not down. I'm not miserable. There's no fucking guy."

None of the girls seem convinced but they drop the topic anyways and move onto how Yuki and Choso broke up. You take this time to collect yourself, blaming your outburst on not getting laid and not because you couldn’t stop thinking about the one person you “hated” most.

That’s when you looked up and saw him. Gojo walked in the front entrance like he owned it, Sukuna and Toji on his left and Suguru to his right. 

Your breath got stuck in your throat. He looked otherworldly, in a back shirt that clung tight to his chest and showed off his muscles that he usually kept hidden. His shades were covering his eyes, white hair tucked behind his ears and his jeans showed off that perfect thin waist you loved to hold onto whenever he fucked you missionary. 

Your heart dripped to your stomach when you got a closer look, because on Gojo's arm was a girl you didn’t recognize. 

She was pretty. Brunette, tall, wearing a bodycon dress that hugged every curve, and she was clinging to his bicep like it was a lifeline. Laughing at something he said, tilting her head in that flirty way that made you want to throw up right there.

But when you looked at Gojo, he looked miserable. His smile didn’t reach as high as you knew it could, his jaw was tight and his head kept turning to look elsewhere, as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. 

"Oh, great," Utahime muttered after following your line of sight. "The frat brigade."

They came over because that’s just your fucking luck. Sukuna spotted your booth first and steered the whole group in your direction, because Sukuna had zero boundaries and loved making people uncomfortable which is why you hated him maybe even more than you hated Gojo.

"Hey, ladies," Sukuna said with a grin that was all teeth, sitting next to Shoko. "Looking hot as fuck tonight."

"Looking like a felon, as always," Your roommate replied flatly, unamused.

Suguru laughed and slid into the booth next to Yuki. Toji grabbed a chair from a nearby table and flipped it around, straddling it. And Gojo..

Gojo sits directly across from you, the brunette settling beside him, still attached to his arm. You roll your eyes.

“Hey.” He says to no one in particular, even though you can see his eyes linger on yours through his shades and you feel your heart skipping literal beats. What the fuck was that about?

You look away, reaching for another drink and looking away, fingers trembling just slightly around the glass, eyes glancing at the dance floor. Fucking get it together.

You listen as Gojo introduces the girl, not caring to catch her name and just that she’s apparently a friend of a friend. You listen as everyone says hello, and give her a silent mode and strained smile. 

The conversation shifted naturally, Sukuna talking about the latest football game where they crushed the rival 4-1. You were there obviously, performed your cheer routine and pretended like Gojo wasn’t somewhere all hot and sweaty. It was a true test to your strength to not walk up to him that night.

"Gojo scored three of those goals," Suguru said, nodding to him. "Man of the match, again."

"Three goals," Toji repeated, stealing one of your shots and winking at you when you flip him off. "And he still looked like someone kicked his dog after the game."

The girl leaned into Gojo and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made him exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh but enough for your jealousy to creep to the surface. 

Something hot and ugly twisting in your chest. 

Fuck this! You weren't going to sit here act like some desperate whore when men literally beg at your feet for a chance to fuck you. Screw Gojo, there were plenty of fish in the sea and one was bound to match your freak.

You tossed back the shot that had been sitting in front of you, slammed the glass on the table hard enough to make everyone look at you, and stood up. You yanked down the hem of your dress and walked away without a word.

“Where are you going?” 

You heard Shoko yell after you but you ignored her, venom dripping from your pores with each step. It was time to remind yourself who you were, and that wasn’t some cock drunk slut who moped over a man she hated anyways. 

You pushed through the crowd until you reached the dance floor, where the music was loud enough to drown out your anger and started dancing 

Your hips moved in circles, arms raised above your head, eyes closed as the music flowed through you. The bass was like a second heartbeat and you let it take you somewhere else. To a place where you didn’t have to think about Gojo and his stupid fucking face or the fact that he shows up with a girl on his arm after not texting you for a week.

You felt a guy appear behind you, his hands on your waist as he started moving with you, pulling your back against his chest. You let him even though you felt nothing. No spark, no heat, literally nothing. Just unfamiliar hands on your body and the faint smell of cologne that wasn't the one you were used to.

You were doing it on purpose, you knew that. Dancing with a stranger because you wanted Gojo to see, for him to feel even a fraction of what you felt watching that girl cling to him. 

It took him about four minutes. You counted and smirked when he appeared in the crowd, leaning against a pole as he watched you with his glasses pushed up and malice in his eyes.

You lean into the guy more, letting his hands roam up your chest. Gojo smirks when he squeezes your boob, taking a sip of his drink and tilting his head. 

You're breathless, annoyed that he thinks this is a joke and grabs the man’s hand roughly, guiding it down your dress further and further, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re supposed to be forgetting about. 

When the stranger's hand is touching your bare thigh, Gojo breaks, passing his drink to someone and making his way through the crowd. 

 You hardly blink when a hand closes around your wrist and yanks away from the confused stranger with enough force that you stumble. Gojo keeps you upright even though his cheeks are clearly red from anger, glaring down at you like you insulted him.

“What the fuck are you doing? You some kind of whore now?” He leans down, voice tight and low against your ear. 

You yank your arm back and take a step back, chest heaving as you squared up to him. “How fucking dare you? You're not my boyfriend, Gojo. You don't get to drag me around like I'm your property."

He stared at you, those blue eyes sharp and frustrated. "You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. Because you won't let me be!"

You're quiet for a split second, nostrils flared and fists balled at your side, heat moving up your chest to your neck.

“Can we not do this here?”

He laughs, grabbing your arm and pulling you close again, towering over you and forcing you to tilt your head back to see him. 

“Why not? You were so brave a few seconds ago, let’s air our shit out right here. Don’t be embarrassed now, it’s beneath you.” 

"You have a new fuck buddy now," you say, crossing your arms and purposely pushing your boobs up. "So I don't see why any of this is your problem."

"She's not my fuck buddy. My friends set it up because they think I need to move on from you." He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up. "Sukuna literally said I've been unbearable to live with since we stopped talking."

"Boo hoo." You lack any sympathy considering he’s the one that walked out on you. Fuck. Him.

"Will you stop being a bitch for five seconds?"

"Excuse me?"

He steps closer, evading your space to the point that you only smell him and his fuck ass cologne, nose greedily breathing it in. “You heard me.”

“You’re not my boyfriend because you’re not my type! Now fuck off and let me forget anything ever happened between us.” 

He laughed but it was hollow, lacking any true emotions. “But I’m your type when I’m inside of you.” 

Your face is a fucking furance, especially when you realize others are looking. Your mouth opens and closes, searching for some witty response but your mind draws a blink. This was humiliating. How did you go from a secret situationship to publicly yelling at each other because you were jealous of the other giving someone else attention? 

Your life was a fucking mess. 

“Fuck you Gojo.” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks and it’s hateful and lust, making your nipples harden underneath your bra.

Without thinking, you grab his shirt and pull his mouth against yours, kissing him hard enough that your teeth clack. It was angry and messy, and you bit his lower lip until he hissed, and his hands were on your hips and then your ass, pulling your chest flat against his. 

His tongue sweeps into your mouth as you moan and shamelessly grind against his leg, his hands guiding your hips back and forth. The music is blasting, your mind is on a different planet and you don’t notice the way your friends are looking from the booth in pure shock. 

When you gain some common sense and remember where you are, you pull away and look at Gojo with glassy eyes, relishing in the way his lips are red from your kisses. 

“Wanna fuck Toru?” 

When he nods yes, you're dragging him by his hand through the crowd and into the men's bathroom. 

There’s no words needed when the door closes, so you drop to your knees and start unblocking his belt and unzipping his pants. Gojo is clearly flustered, but helps you pull his pants and boxers down with shaking hands. 

He watches you with one hand braced on the wall and the other moving to grab your hair, lips parted as he breathed heavily. 

You stroke him a few times, thumb rubbing over the red tip and spreading the pre before taking him into your mouth without warning. Gojo curses under his breath, hips jerking forward, and you wrap one hand around the base while you work the rest with your tongue.

This was your first time going down on Gojo but no one would know with the way you easily take him, swallowing his cock until it’s down your throat.

You’re sloppy about it, letting salvia drip down your chin and onto your exposed chest, sucking his cock like a pornstar, your mouth making obscene wet noises. You suck hard, looking up at him through wet eyelashes and watching his face contort, jaw clenched and eyes dark. 

“Fuck,” He breathed, hands tightening in your hair and guiding you to suck faster. “Just like that.” 

You took him deeper, relaxing your throat and letting him control your movements. His hips start to move, slow thrust that make him hit the back of your throat and your eyes water. When you moan around he shudders and reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek.

"You're so good at this," he said, voice rough. "You're so good at pretending you don't want me, but look at you. My little cock obsessed slut."

You pull back just enough to run your tongue along the underside, from base to tip, and smirk when he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper. You take him back in, bobbing your head in a rhythm that matches the muffled bass from the club. 

“Haah, fuck!” You could feel him getting close, the way his thighs tensed, the way his breathing turned ragged.

"Wait, princess, fuck, I'm gonna-"

You don’t pull off. When he cums, you swallow all of it, throat working at his cock as he shoots hot ropes of thick cum into your mouth. His groan is wrecked, a raw sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fist slams against the wall as his knees threaten to buckle. You held him there, mouth sealed tight around him, until the last tremor faded and he was just a gasping, trembling mess. 

Then you let him slip free, wipe the spit and salt from your lips with the back of your hand, and tilt your face up to meet his stunned, glassy stare. If you knew how hot his moans were when getting his dick sucked, you would have done this sooner.

“Wanna get out here?” 

When you made it to Gojo’s place, you both wrestled each other’s clothes off and didn’t make it to his room before he was inside of you. He took you on the couch two times and once in the kitchen, bent over the sink as he fucked you hard and deep.

Now you were laid on your back on his bed, watching as he reached for another condom. Before you could stop yourself, you let your heart lead for once and called his name to stop him. 

“No condom this time.” 

He freezes, looking back down at the latex and back at you. “What?”

“Wanna feel you this time Toru, please?”

And he broke, tossing it and climbing back over your body and kissing from your tits back up to your face, stopping to lick inside of your mouth, his hard cock pressing against your entrance. He pauses, looking down at you with his white hair falling to the sides of his face, all sweaty from your previous sessions. 

“Say it again.” 

You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pull him back down and nipping at his lip. “I want you Satoru, wanna feel you raw.”

He gives a shaky breath and without wasting any more time, pushes into you slowly, stopping every inch to savor your warmth around him. Feeling him bare inside of you made you gasp and claw at his shoulders, the new sensation of his pulsing cock making you feel lucid. 

He groaned against your neck, stilling once he was fully seated, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he fought the urge to bust a fat fucking nut.

"You feel so good," he said, voice cracking. "Fuck, you feel-"

"Move," you whisper, scratching down his back.

He started slowly, rolling his hips in deep, deliberate thrusts that hit every nerve ending you had. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moaned your name against your collarbone.

This was different from every other time. Before, it had been fast and rough and detached on your end, two people using each other to blow off steam. This was something else entirely. He was looking at you, really looking at you, and there was so much emotion in his eyes that you felt tears prick at your own.

He licks them away, both hands reaching down to grab onto your ass so he can pound you harder.. faster, so fucking deep. He moves faster, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies naturally finding a rhythm that has your heart lurching. 

The pressure built inside you and when that coil snapped and you came for the fourth time, you came hard, back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry, clenching around him so tightly that he followed you over the edge with a groan that sounded like your name.

“Fuck-, I love you, sweetheart. Fucking love you so much.”

He buried himself deep, groaning loud and squeezing your ass hard enough to leave a print. His hips moved in circles as he emptied himself and you felt it, the warmth of him spilling into you, no barrier, nothing between you, and it was so intimate that you felt tears slip again. 

You let him hold you that night even though you don’t hold him back, mind stuck on the fact that Gojo loves you and now your relationship would never be the same. 

You woke up first that day and deeply regret it. 

The morning light was creeping in and your body was sore enough that you almost regretted riding him two more times after, letting him stuff you full until his balls were empty. Gojo was still asleep beside you, one arm thrown over his face, white hair a mess on the pillow. You slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on one of his oversized soccer jerseys that fell to your mid-thigh, and padded barefoot into the hallway.

You were snooping, just trying to use the bathroom when you noticed one of his draws were still open and a bunch of polaroids were spilling out. You told yourself you were just going to fix them so they wouldn’t get destroyed.

You pulled the draw open, heart lurching when the first one you saw was a photo of you. What the fuck..

It was from sophomore year, the one time you went bowling with your friends and had been forced to interact with Gojo. He had been taking photos but you never thought about it. It wasn’t creepy, just an off guard photo of you laughing at something and it made you sick. 

You started digging through the rest, ears burning when you found a few more of you off guard, some of you with the girls that he took. You looked so happy in all of them, Gojo’s photography style making it look like you were the center of his world. 

Your fingers trembled as you flipped through the polaroids, each one a moment you barely remembered. He'd seen you. Really seen you. And you spent two years hating him because he wore Greek letters on his chest and you built your whole personality around hating everything that stood for.

Your throat aches, eyes burn. You press your palm flat against the sink to steady yourself, knees weak and blood running cold.

When you grabbed a few photos and turned to confront him, Gojo was standing in the doorway. He was shirtless, sleep still in his eyes, and he looked from your face to the open drawer with an expression that could only be described as pure panic.

"How long?" You ask, holding up the photos. "Satoru, how long have you been taking pictures of me?"

❦ lisa's note: messy af tbh! one more part to go, lemme know what ya think :')

© art creds: gojouify

he climbs onto the bed and up close he smells exactly like you imagine—expensive cologne, faint beer, and warm skin. his body is hot against yours as he settles between your thighs, muscular arms on either side of your head.

when he leans down to kiss you, it is surprisingly soft at first and then hungry, tongue teasing yours while one big hand slides down your side to squeeze your hip.

you gasp when his fingers find you already slick. he groans low in his throat. “fuck, you’re so wet for me already…”

two long fingers press in, stretching you carefully, and something tells you he knows exactly how big he is because he takes his time, watching your face with hooded eyes, murmuring praise against your neck.

“that’s it… relax for me, pretty girl.”

by the time he lines himself up, you are trembling with nerves and want. he pushes forward—slow, so slow. the blunt, thick head presses against your entrance, hot and heavy. you feel every inch of that first stretch, the burn of it making you whimper.

“is it in already?” you breathe after a few seconds.

satoru lets out a strangled laugh, forehead dropping to yours. “it’s only the tip, baby.”

“only the tip?!” you are going to die. you are so going to die. the pressure is already insane—full, overwhelming, deliciously too much. you can feel the heat of him, the slight throb, the way your body tries so hard to adjust around him.

he pushes forward another inch and you both moan. sweat beads on his forehead, sliding down his temples. his abs tighten with every shallow thrust, that white happy trail brushing against your stomach.

“shit—you’re so tight,” he hisses. “feels so fucking good… but i don’t wanna hurt you.”

you grip at his biceps, nails digging into hard muscle. “you’re huge, satoru. has anyone ever told you that?”

“yeah. you—like five times already.”

“because i feel like i’m being split open by a damn baseball bat!”

he chokes on a laugh, hips stuttering. the movement pushes him a little deeper and your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming fullness. every tiny shift sends sparks through you—the drag of his thickness, the way he fills you so completely it feels like he is touching places no one ever has.

“stop making me laugh,” he whines, but he is grinning. “you’re gonna make me slip and then we’ll both be in trouble.”

“slip?! if you slip any more we’re gonna have to call an ambulance.”

“god, i like you. this is the least sexy sex i’ve ever had and i’m having the best time.”

another clumsy, careful thrust. he bottoms out halfway and has to pause, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours. his cock twitches inside you, so hot and heavy you whimper. one of his hands slides down to rub slow circles over your clit, trying to help you relax while his body stays tense with restraint.

“you’re doing so good. taking me so pretty… look at you.”

you are equal parts mortified and insanely turned on. this is the clumsiest, most awkward sex you have ever had—full of giggles and curses and satoru’s muttered coaching (“easy, big guy, she’s tiny”)—and somehow it is perfect.

he kisses you again, messy and sweet, then rocks forward once more. “still regret coming home with me?” he teases, lips brushing your ear.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him just a little deeper, and laugh breathlessly. “ask me again when you’re actually all the way in, gojo.”

You don't hesitate, tossing your bag to your feet and climbing over the console until both of your thighs are on either side of him and your pussy is pressing against the print of his hard cock.

The windows were tinted dark. Nobody could see. Nobody would know.

"You talk to him about chemistry?"

He twists your necklace before he starts to unbutton your cardigan, fingers brushing against your skin. You're too stupefied to talk as he pushes the fabric off your shoulders, his hand sneaking under your t-shirt to unsnap your bra and pull it off.

"Let's talk about biology instead."

He pushes your shirt up and lowers his mouth to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You toss your head back and let out a loud moan, fingers finding his hair to hold onto and gripping tight.

"You're s-so needy when you get j-jealous." You whimper, grinding against his jeans, skirt rising up your hips, body shivering when he bit down gently.

"Hmm, you like that?" He pulls back, his lips wet as he smirks at you.

You nod shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling deeper onto his lap.

He slid his hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher until he found the damp heat between your legs. Your panties were soaked and he grins, an annoyingly cocky grin that made you want to slap him and ride him at the same time.

“This f'me? Or were you thinking about his big brain?” He pressed two fingers against your clit through the thin fabric, rubbing slow circles.

“You!” You gasp, chest heaving. “Always you. He’s nothing—ah!”

He shoved your panties aside and pushed two fingers inside your dripping cunt, curling them just right. Your hips bucked as you cried out, and he used his other hand to pin you down.

“Say it again.”

“You, Gojo. Only you.”

“That’s my good girl.” He finger fucks you hard, the wet sound obscene in the quiet car, your juices dripping down his fingers while kisses you to shut you up.

The way your pussy was clenching around Gojo's fingers had him leaking pre and staining his boxers. He felt like he was going to burst if he didn't fuck you soon.

He can feel you shaking, getting closer but before you can cum, he's pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, ignoring the shocked look on your face. His tongue swirls around his fingers, licking them clean and pulling off with a pop.

"Lift your hips."

When he smacks the side of your ass, you yelp but do as he says, lifting high enough for him to unzip his jeans and pull them down with his boxers.

He strokes his hard cock once, twice, watching you watch him and it has his own cheeks heating. Your glasses were crooked, lips swollen and red from his kisses and his self control snapped.

He didn’t tease, growing annoyed again when an image pops up of you smiling at that fucking loser. He grips your hip with one hand and uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. He uses his cock to push your panties aside and with one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt.

"Satoru! Oh fuuck."

Gojo gives you a minute to adjust to his size, hand rubbing up and down your spine in a soothing manner while you whine against his neck. Slowly, he lifts your hips, teeth grinding from the grip your pussy has on his cock, and slams you back down.

He loves the way you're crying out and it only motivates him to go faster, his own hips rising to meet yours. Fuck, you were so wet and warm and he had to actively fight back his moans.

He knows you love when he's vocal but right now he was punishing you, so he bit his lip and fucked you harder.

"Who do you belong to?” he asked again, his voice cracking when you clench around him.

"Y-you. I'm sorry Toru, I'll n-never talk to him again."

He chuckles, pulling your mouth down to his and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your lipgloss tastes like strawberries, so sweet he can't help but nibble on it a little.

"Such an obedient girl." He fucks you faster, his abdomen wet and sticky with your arousal, your ass smacking against his thighs whenever your bodies meet.

When Gojo presses his thumb against your clit and flicks it, the knot in your stomach tightens harder, twisting as you get closer to your high.

"Haaah, m'gonna cum Toru!"

He doesn't stop, just grunts and rubs you faster until you're spilling over the edge, body glitching as you buck wildy against him, head dropping to his neck as your orgasm rocks your world.

Your breath is hot against Gojo's neck and his balls swell before he's busting a fat nut inside of you, hot ropes of gooey cum painting your walls in his DNA.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Despite his best efforts he can't stop the groans that escape his lips, deep and long, his hands squeezing your thighs as he twitches and empties himself inside of you.

Gojo's hips stutter as he pushes the last of his orgasm out, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you tight. Maybe you should keep talking to other guys so he can relive this moment over and over.

You grunt when his cock slips out, his cum instantly oozing out but he uses two fingers to rub at your clit, moving to your hole and pushing it back inside. He keeps them snug in your cunt, cocking jumping back to life as he uses his other hand to pull your lips to his.

The kiss is filthy, his tongue swirling against yours as you swap spit. His stomach flutters when you grind against his hand, his nerdy little slut.

When Gojo pulls back, he fixes your glasses and lifts your hips again, lining his once again, hard cock back up with your entrance and slowly pulling you down.

"Now what did we learn?" He asks once he's buried deep, his balls pushing against your ass.

"T-that, huuhh, that I shouldn't laugh at other g-guys jokes."

He kisses you again before pushing his seat back until he was almost laying down, his hands holding onto your waist.

"Atta girl. Now ride me until I tell you to stop."

❦ lisa's note: thanks for this request, it was fun to write! can you tell I love car sex? anyways something quick while I work on the arrangement ♡

gojo sluts: @rhaewinsdaughter @timgiohlover1767 @kissprl @lunevarin @keiito066 @pinkpantherrrrss @lounastar @luvs-angel @luvbambiboo @scramblenigojo @nationalmegumidihhopper @jisojoriver @lilactaro @mimicosmos8 @billiondollarworth @ayla111 @lesyeuxdeginana @miizuzu @vivillow @biggkayyss @darkcatsxs @suguru4life @majemki @amayaaaxx @rachelily @rae06-12

perm tags: @icebearcucumber @tojisfavoritegun @writingintheskin @saturneni @sakurasweetiesworld-blog @sleeeepybee @locallyclementine @butterbeanandsparkleface @butterbeanandsparkleface @writtenbyjil @sukunas-one-n-only-peach @alliesheartsss @kookiieeswirl @mrskamikazekaito @blogster-b33 @stvsgsb @meowguumi @a-court-of-smut-and-sluts @mutsu422 @love-d-luxe @xojoln @stillhollow-kindofthere @srslyoceans

You had begrudgingly squeezed into a tight dress, letting Shoko fix your hair and makeup before she was dragging you out the door and into her car. 

When you guys pulled up outside of the sorority house, the scene before you was far from what a typical party looked like. The lights were mostly off except for a few rooms that were still lit and it was eerily quiet outside, no loud music or drunk college students dancing around the lawn.  

Shoko had assured you that it wouldn’t be as hectic as a frat party would but you hadn't expected it to be deader than your social life. You turn and glare at your friend in the driver's seat who looks just as confused as you do. 

What the fuck was this? You could have been in bed, doom scrolling through TikTok and here you were, dressed up for a party that apparently wasn’t even happening.   

“I’ll go check, give me a minute.” Shoko mummers, hitting her vape before jogging up to the front door.

Your leg anxiously bounces up and down while you wait, watching as she knocks and someone with purple hair opens the door a few seconds later. You can’t hear anything but the conversation seems heated and brief before your roommate is stomping back to the car, annoyance evident on her face. 

“The party is canceled. Someone got the flu and the entire sorority is sick.” 

You fight to hide your smile, not wanting to rub it in Shoko's face since she was already upset. As much as it sucks that someone was sick, you couldn’t deny that you were happy. You didn’t want to go out in the first place and now you could-

“Buut.” Shoko sings, eyes twinkling as she looks at you with that same smile from earlier. 

“There is another party happening like ten minutes away.”

“Great.” 

It was far from fucking great when you pulled up in front of what was obviously a fraternity. The white house was big enough that it was basically a mansion, it had a flag with greek letters flying and the amount of people out front alone made you sick, the music loud enough that you heard it from the opposite side of the street. 

You hadn’t signed up for this, you wanted no parts in it. 

“Absouletly not. Take me back.”

“Stop.” Shoko’s eyes were pleading, her bottom lip poking out. “We’re already here and you promised you’d be my wingman. Wingwoman. Whatever.”

“I didn't promise shit. You said we’d be going to a sorority party, not a frat!” Your cheeks heated in irrational anger, even though you knew it wasn’t her fault. 

She had no idea how much you despised fraternities but it didn’t mean you’d be going to one just because she was putting on her best puppy face, big brown eyes shining and silently begging for you to say yes. 

“One hour. If you still hate it, we leave. But you’re already here, might as well give it a chance.”

You look back toward the house, your stomach twisting and heart racing a little faster. You weighed the pros and cons. If you did agree to go, you'd probably end up drinking more than you should and wake up with a nasty hangover. You’d also be breaking your promise to yourself and your sister to never step foot in a fraternity. 

Maybe it was unfair that you let a handful of horror stories shape your perception of them but it wasn’t as if they came from nowhere. You had watched the news, seen the headlines. Hazing. Alcohol poisoning. Freshmen being pressured into doing things they probably never wanted to do. 

Your older sister had made sure you knew exactly what kind of places to avoid when you left for college, and frat houses had been at the very top of her list.

But then again, you had waited for this moment since you got your acceptance letter. To meet new people, make new memories outside of your shitty hometown and to truly experience college life.

You were nineteen. What was the harm in going to one party? You’d appease Shoko, confirm your thoughts that frats were terrible and never step foot in one again. 

One night couldn’t ruin your entire college experience. Right?

You sighed and let Shoko pull your hand until you were walking through the front door and the smell of stale booze, and musky body heat hit you, the music rattling the speakers. The living room had been stripped of anything breakable and replaced with white folding tables sticky with spilled drinks and red solo cups. 

A group of guys were playing beer pong, shouting as the ball flew too far and rolled under a couch. Further into the house, a girl was setting up a karaoke machine and slurring the lyrics to the Pitbull song that was playing, almost tumbling off the table. 

The scene made you itch, your feet already hurting from the heels you’d been forced to wear. You let Shoko guide you through the crowd anyways, scowling at the way a few shirtless guys eyed you like you were nothing more than a piece of candy. She led you toward the kitchen, hand wrapped tight around yours, where a group had gathered around the island counter. 

A tall guy with long black hair tied back noticed you first, grinning at Shoko and holy fuck he was hot.

“Shoko, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He raises his red solo cup in the air. “And you bought a friend.” 

“This is my roommate, (name).” Shoko tugs you forward until you’re standing by her side. “Be nice to her, will you? She’s already planning my funeral for bringing her here.”

He nods at you, tossing back the rest of his drink and your knees go weak because he had to be one of the hottest guys you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Geto Suguru but you can call me Suguru. Any friend of Shoko’s is a friend of mine.” He sticks his hand out and you wipe yours on your dress before reaching over the island and taking his into yours. 

“Nice to meet you.” You force a shaky smile, pulling your hand back. 

When you ask how they know each other, Suguru explains that they went to high school together but Shoko had decided to take a gap year and travel the country.

Shoko introduces you to the rest of her friend group. There was Choso, a guy with two ponytails and a scar across his nose. His girlfriend, Yuki, was nice enough even though you were sure she was flirting with you. Nanami, who seemed entirely too sweet to be there and next to him was the human incarnation of a golden retriever, Haibara. 

After introductions were over, they pulled you into a game of flip cup and you were surprisingly good at it. The satisfaction of slamming your cup down before Choso was enough to make you forget where you were, cheap booze loosening you up and allowing you to truly enjoy yourself. Even if some asshole kept bumping into your ass and forgetting to apologize. 

You even let Shoko and Yuki drag you to do karaoke, stupidly singing Promiscuous and moving your hips in circles, hair loose and falling into your flushed face. You hadn’t noticed the way Suguru watched you with a smirk, arms crossed while someone whispered something in his ear. 

It only took an hour for you to be reminded that frats were in fact the root of all evil, your short lived fantasy that maybe you were wrong crashing down when he decided to show up.

You felt him before you saw him, your skin tingling as you sat on the couch and nursed a headache while actively fighting the urge to throw up, half listening to the group's conversation. You had just been about to tap Shoko and invoke your one-hour rule when the energy in the room shifted. The sea of people were parting to make way for someone, a few petrified freshmen scrambling to get out of the way. 

When enough people cleared, two of the most unique looking men you’d ever seen came into view. 

Now let’s get one thing straight: you were far from a pick me, never had been and you never would be. However, even you weren’t immune to the rare moment of being so mesmerized by the beauty of a man that you just stare with your mouth slightly agape. 

One of them had pink hair and tattoos covering his face and massive arms. He was kind of scary looking but in the hottest way possible. It was a shame he already had someone on his arm. Then there was the guy next to him, with a backwards hat that white hair slipped out of and eyes so blue they looked fake.

Your brain short-circuited for exactly half a second. Fuck. He was in fact the hottest man you’d ever seen, forget what you said earlier. Objectively. Scientifically, whatever. It wasn’t even a matter of opinion, just facts.

He was lean and tall with the face of a god, a pointy nose and full lips and you had to squeeze your thighs together when he looked in your direction, though his eyes weren’t on you. 

Shoko notices you staring and smirks. “Oh right. I forgot you haven’t met Gojo yet!”

“What?” You finally blink, glaring at your friend. “I wasn’t-”

“Satoru!” Shoko waved him over. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

Gojo locked eyes with her and smiled, leaning to whisper something to the man he had walked in with and handing him the case of beer he was carrying before moving toward the couch you were currently gripping. 

He was even more handsome up close, the smell of his cinnamon cologne cutting through the stench of sweaty bodies and alcohol. It was too bad he had to open his mouth and ruin everything. 

“Shoko.” His voice vibrates through you more than the music does, and it makes you feel pathetic. Since when have you ever let a man affect you like this? “Making new friends already?”

“This is my roommate,” Shoko says, gesturing toward you and tells him your name. “Play nice.”

When he turned those big blue eyes on you, your breath got caught in your throat, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Well hello there. I’m Satoru, sophomore and president of this fine establishment.” 

Sophomore and president of an entire frat? You didn’t want to think of what kind of douchebag he had to have been to pull that off. You reluctantly shake his hand and pull it away faster than you did Suguru’s, your mouth growing sour. 

“You’re a quiet one.” He plops down on the couch between you and Shoko and you feel your irritation growing, your headache picking back up, mood completely ruined just from a few words. “It’s the hair, right? Or the eyes? Most people say the eyes. I get it, I’m a lot to process.”

He throws an arm on the couch behind you, leaning back and spreading his legs just wide enough to piss you the fuck off. Fuck this guy! 

“Wow,” You say flatly, moving from under his arm and turning to face him. “Do you practice being insufferable, or does it just come naturally?”

Shoko snorts into her cup while Suguru who had been sitting next to her lets out a “oh shit” under his breath. This was his and Satoru’s second year here and he had never heard anyone snap at his friend. 

Gojo’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew as he leaned into your space. “Naturally. It’s a gift, but I’m sensing some hostility, sweetheart. Are you not enjoying yourself? I’m sure I can show you a better time upstairs.”

You wanted to throttle him. So this is what your sister was trying to warn you about? What a fucking idiot you were to doubt her for even a second.

“I’d rather eat glass then let you touch me.”

He simply laughs at that, moving a little closer and forcing you to awkwardly lean back, heat creeping up your neck and to your ears. He was close enough to kiss you and you were about to smack him until he smiled and moved to stand up. 

“Nice to meet you, freshman. Maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He disappears into the crowd and you want the floor to swallow you whole. You try to stay for the sake of your friend but each passing minute proves why you’d never show your face at these parties again. 

People were passing out from how drunk they were, someone had almost thrown up on your shoes and to top it all off, loud cheers were sounding from the backyard. You were about to tell Shoko it was time to go when she started running toward the back door to see what was going on and you reluctantly followed. 

The sight made your blood boil. Standing side by side was Gojo and the pink haired guy from earlier who you’d learn was Sukuna. There was a third guy with them, tall with broad shoulders, dark messy hair and a scar on his lip. 

A line of freshmen boys stood at the edge of the pool, each looking paler than the last. Sukuna was barking out orders and you watched in horror as they began to take off their shirts and then their shoes and pants. 

People were laughing, clapping and yelling for them to take off their underwear. You glared at the guy who said that, but he just shrugged and turned back to the show. Several phones appeared in the air despite Gojo’s threats that anyone caught recording would have them smashed.

This was so fucking sick. 

The poor guys looked like they wanted the ground to swallow them whole and just when you moved to put an end to this, an arm reached out to stop you. You snapped your head up, ready to lay into the person until a familiar set of dark eyes stared down at you. 

Suguru. 

“Get off of me.” You say through gritted teeth, pure anger making your heart beat faster and your blood pump harder.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He warns you and you suddenly hate him as much as his prick of a friend, snatching away from him and turning back to the scene unfolding. 

Without an ounce of sympathy, Gojo clapped his hands together and nodded to the freshmen, his shorts hanging loose on his hips. 

"No need to be nervous. We've all got the same equipment!”

"If you're too embarrassed to strip," The scarred lip dude shouts over the cheering crowd. "you're probably too soft to wear our letters anyway."

A little motivating glare from Sukuna who looked even less interested in preserving anyone's dignity and they were stripping off the remainder of their clothes. You stared in absolute disbelief as the first pledge squeezed his eyes shut, signaled something that looked like a prayer and canonballed into the pool completely naked. 

One by one the others followed and you started to push through the crowd of students, ignoring Shoko yelling your name and evading Suguru’s attempt to grab you again.

Any microscopic chance you'd had of warming up to fraternities evaporated on the spot. These people were insane, fucking psychopaths and deserved a taste of their own medicine. 

By the time you reached the pool, the pledges were climbing out of the water, shivering and red-faced as older fraternity members tossed towels in their direction. They looked humiliated, their smiles not fooling you for a second.

“Hey asshole!” You shout toward the white haired douchebag, storming up to him and gaining the attention of the crowd who started to quiet down to listen to the spectacle you were creating. 

Good. Let them watch!

Gojo, who had been in the middle of laughing at something Sukuna said, looked at you and the grin spreading across his face only further annoyed you. He was so fucking hot but his personality sucked!

“Couch girl!” 

You ignore him, walking until you were close enough to stick your arm out and push his chest. He hardly moved but it was enough to knock that stupid smug smirk off his face for a split second before the corner of his mouth was lifting again. 

"What kind of pathetic excuse for leadership is this?" You gestured toward the soaking pledges who did their best to cover themselves with their small towels as they exchanged nervous glances. "Making them strip in front of half the campus because you think it's funny?"

“It was voluntary.” Sukuna spat, folding his arms and scowling at you, but you kept your eyes on Gojo who steps a little close to you.

“Oh please. Do you really expect me to believe a bunch of freshmen are gonna tell the people deciding if they get into this fraternity or not, ‘no’?” 

When someone in the crowd yelled that you had a point, Sukuna shot them a glare from the deepest pits of hell that had them shutting up and cowering back into the crowd. 

Meanwhile Gojo looked thoroughly entertained, that bastard. Not a hint of embarrassment on his face as he reaches forward and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. His carefree attitude catches you off guard and you’re dumb founded, losing yourself in his big blue eyes before snapping out of it and pushing him away again. 

“You’ve known me for what..” He pulls his hand away and looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Two hours and you’re already lecturing me? We're basically an old married couple already.” 

Your eye twitches. You hadn’t really thought of how he would react but amusement was the furthest thing you’d expect from someone getting scolded like an insolent child. 

You take a step back, not missing the way he eyes your body and your skin crawls.

“Fuck you dude! I wouldn’t let someone like you touch me with a ten foot pole, let alone let you marry me.”

He tilts his head as the crowd snickers and you grow impossibly hotter. You can feel Shoko pulling your arm but your feet are glued to the ground. It would take an act of god to get you to move before you were done saying what you had to say.

“Aww don’t be shy now. You’re making me feel self conscious too.” 

The words get under your skin more than you should have let them and the look on his face, the slight glint in his eyes tells you that he knows it. Before you can rip into him, the scarred lip dude butts in, pushing between the two of you. 

“Cute." He rolls his eyes. "Now either kiss or kill each other somewhere else. We've got pledges to traumatize."

You glare over his shoulder at Gojo one more time, seething at the way he winks at you, clearly finding this entire thing entertaining, before letting Shoko pull you away this time. If you saw him fifty years down the line it would still be too soon! 

You had to get an uber since you and Shoko were both too tipsy to drive and you outright declined Suguru’s offer to drop you off, having had your fix of frat boys for the next century. 

You rested your temple against the cool glass of the car window, nursing the dull ache forming behind your eyes while your stomach churned from the cheap vodka and lingering irritation.

Gojo Satoru.

Just thinking of his name made your jaw tighten.

He wasn't the first arrogant person you’d met. You’d known plenty in high school, cocky guys who were captains of some team or were blessed with a nice jawline and thought the world revolved around them. 

Gojo surpassed all of them. 

He wasn’t just cocky, but the kind of person that took everything as a joke, constantly performing and acting as if everyone around him was just a part of one big act. And the worst part about it, the part you refused to let yourself think of for more than a second because fuck that, was that he had no business looking the way he did.

It was almost offensive that someone as infuriating as him had a face that made you want to forget every sin he committed. 

You would just have to try your best to stay far away from him, steer clear of frat houses, frat parties, and anywhere someone like him might possibly show up.

Later that night you and Shoko are both wide awake, laying in the dark listening to the faint sounds of the occasional car or ambulance flying by. You’re still fuming, your earlier encounter making it hard for you to find sleep. 

“Hey Sho?”

“Yes?” 

“If you ever invite me to anything that asshole is at again, I’ll kill you both.”

“Noted.”

That was the day you grew to hate Satoru Gojo and the day he fell in love with you.

Now here you were. Your junior year came faster than you thought it would. 

In the time since you started at Jujutsu University, you joined the cheer team, made the dean’s list multiple times and built a tight knit friend group that consisted of you, Shoko, Utahime, Yuki and occasionally Suguru. 

Best of all, you had mostly stuck to your promise and kept away from Gojo, with the exception of a few incidents during your sophomore year when he had decided that you would be his new target of interest. It didn’t matter that you made your disdain for him clear, he never really gave up on his desperate attempts to win you over. 

One of the most memorable times was when you picked up Shoko from an invite only party and he answered the door. He was grinning, telling you that he knew you couldn’t resist him and lifting his black shades to his head, blue eyes flashing. 

"This is my favorite plot twist so far."

You bit your tongue and rolled your eyes, telling him you were here for Shoko only but nothing you said would get through that massive inflated head of his. 

“You were invited by the way. Why didn't you come?”  He actually frowns and you fight the urge to pinch yourself because he genuinely looks like a kicked puppy and you hate the way it tugs on your heart for a split second before you remember who you’re talking to.

“Because your last party fucking sucked.”

His ticking jaw and flared nostrils were your only signs that you had finally gotten to him before he was covering it up, licking his lips and looking down at your glossed ones with a grin. 

“Oh so you’re one of those girls.” He clicks his tongue, giving a dramatic shake of his head.

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, chest already growing tight with irritation. This was supposed to be a quick pick up and somehow you ended up stuck talking to the one person you wanted to avoid.

“You know.. a judgmental stuck up bitch.” 

You had smiled, pride swelling in your chest because yes.. that’s exactly what you were and you hoped that now he’d take a fucking hint and leave you alone. If you were a little meaner maybe you’d scare him away for good. 

“That’s one way to put it.”

“You’re so evil.” He leans against the door frame, lowering his shades back to his face. “It’s hot, you’re just my type of girl, sweets.” 

The first week of your junior year had gone great, you hadn’t seen Gojo once which was a blessing in disguise since as you would later find out, you were both majoring in psychology. Your first day of cheer practice was coming up, you and Shoko were still sharing a dorm in your third year, your professors were all amazing and you managed to score an interview for a research internship next summer. 

Everything had been going in your favor.

It felt like you were on top of the world until the white haired devil himself walked into the lecture hall, dressed in a snapback, faded jeans and a football jersey. He looked out of place. Suguru was by his side as they looked for a seat and your heart was pounding as you snapped your head forward so fast it was painful, not wanting him to feel you staring. 

You sunk into your seat and dipped your head.

No, no, no! What the fuck was he doing here? Did he get lost? There was no way someone like Satoru Gojo would actually be taking a psychology class without being forced into it. Suguru, maybe. Satoru? He belonged in someone's business class, maybe engineering.

There was simply no universe in which he voluntarily enrolled in social psychology. 

But it didn’t matter what you thought, because he was here and you could hear him getting closer to you, his voice sending sparks down your spine. Just when you thought you were going to get lucky, the sound of a chair scraping beside you made your stomach flip. 

Painfully, you turned your head just as Gojo plopped down onto the seat to your right, his cologne invading your senses. Suguru apologized as he squeezed into the thin space to slip past you, taking the seat to your left. 

What a genius you were, picking a spot with two free seats on either side of you. 

Fantastic. Now you were trapped and Gojo only nodded at you when you glared at him, clearly fighting a smile as he leaned back in his seat as if he’d won a battle in this silent war you’d been in for two years. 

This was fine. You’d just ignore him like you always did. He thrived off of attention, so you would simply deprive him of it. 

Easy enough right? That’s what you thought until he opened his mouth and you remembered just how easily he got under your skin. How good he was at provoking a reaction out of you and it didn’t help that he looked hot as fuck with his skin slightly tanned from summer break, arms and chest a little bigger. 

“Would you look at that? Looks like we’re classmates now, princess.”

You tried to ignore him, really you did but whenever he was around you simply lost all sense of rationality, ten brain cells dying with every word that came out of his mouth.

“Don’t call me that.” You keep your eyes forward, trying to listen to the professor who was going over what you’d be covering this week. 

“Noted, princess.”

Surprisingly, you make it through most of class without Gojo bothering you. He only looks your way once but quickly turns his head when you catch him eyeing your exposed legs and pull your skirt down, his cheek dusted a light pink. 

You ignore the way you feel your ears burning from the attention, a desperate ache growing between your legs.

"Before anyone gets too comfortable, I should let you know this course revolves around a semester-long research project." 

A collective groan ripples through the lecture hall but your professor smiles anyways. 

"You'll be working in pairs. By the end of the semester, you'll present a research-backed analysis of interpersonal attraction and the psychological mechanisms that influence it. This isn't a project you can throw together the night before. You'll be meeting with your partner regularly throughout the term."

Partners? Fuck! 

You were a smart girl, always had been but working in groups had never been your strong suit. You were hyper independent and hated relying on others to carry their weight, especially when they hardly ever did. You either ended up doing all the work yourself or none of it, there was no in between. 

"To avoid everyone choosing their friends, I've paired you using a wheel spinner."

A projector illuminated the screen behind her and names began appearing in two neat columns. You leaned forward, quickly scanning for your name and when you found it, you read it again. 

And again, and again until you were shaking your head no and clenching your fists. 

Gojo, Satoru — [Full Name]

"...You've got to be kidding me." The words come out louder than you meant for them to, your professor looking at you with a raised brow. 

“I’m afraid there will be no changes. If anyone is unsatisfied with their partner you’re welcome to make your case after class but I'm afraid my decision is final unless you are at risk of being harmed.”

Did your emotional well being count? This was disastrous, a catastrophic fuck up and you would in fact take her up on her offer and be having a word with your professor once everyone left. You’d get on your knees and beg if you had to. 

Gojo’s lightly laughed beside you and you snap your head toward him with the meanest glare you can muster, eyes burning with fury. 

“What could possibly be funny?” 

He shrugs, biting his bottom lip and staring at your strawberry gloss covered one, not giving a fuck that you could see him checking you out. You squeeze your thighs, annoyed at the way your body was reacting to his attention, betraying you in a way that was unforgivable. 

“Guess fate ships us.”

Cheer practice hadn’t gone any better. As it turned out, Gojo had joined the football team and watching him run around all sweaty with his hair sticking to his head, kicking a ball in his blue uniform, was bad for someone trying to nail down their newest routine. 

The cheer gym was delayed on its remodeling and the auxiliary gym had been in use so the only free space was the football field, hence your current situation. 

It was hot, and you kept fucking up your stunts, eyes lazer focused on the field, instantly finding a set of white hair whenever you got tossed in the air. He hadn’t been looking at you, instead focusing on winning the mock game between teammates.

Yet he was still a nuisance even when he wasn’t trying to be and it didn’t help that you were still fired up from your conversation with your professor from earlier. When you begged to swap places with someone else, she had told you that ‘i don’t get along with fratboys’ wasn’t a legitimate reason to switch partners and that the project was worth fifty percent of your grade so you’d better find common ground fast.

Another thing nagging at you? You had only gotten laid a handful of times in the last year. Discovering you had an abnormally high libido after losing your virginity at the end of freshman year had been rough. Every guy you tried to build something with either couldn’t last more than two rounds before tapping out or wanted something more. 

You weren’t looking for a relationship, just someone to help you get off once or twice a day. Your vibrators could only do so much. You craved the real thing, but struggled to find someone who could meet your needs. 

"Focus!" Your captain's voice snapped you back to reality.

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at Gojo as he power kicked the ball into the net from halfway across the field, kicking dirt up. It was hot as fuck and irritated you at the same time. 

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, stepping into position and letting your bases lock their grips around your ankles before they launch you upward. The familiar rush of adrenaline hits as soon as your body lifts into the air, muscle memory taking over as you balance yourself.

You should have been focused on your counts, on the people responsible for catching you if something went wrong. What did you do instead? You let your eyes wander until they found him again, heart lurching when you saw that he was already staring at you. 

He waved and even from a distance you could tell he was smirking at you, ball in his hand as he pointed at the net and lowered it back to the ground. He moved his head from side to side, looking at you one last time before kicking the ball so hard that it almost took the goalie out, slamming into the back of the net.

Your cheeks burned, the ache from earlier returning. 

You were completely unaware that you were one second away from falling because your brain apparently thought watching him was more important than not breaking your neck. Stupid girl. 

“Eyes up!” Your captain's voice rang through the air and you forced your gaze down, correcting your posture before your bases caught you as you landed safely. 

When your feet hit the ground you exhale sharply, slightly stumbling. Gojo had gone back to playing, as if he hadn’t almost killed you by distracting you.

“Are you alright? You’ve been out of it this entire time-”

“I’m fine! Let’s go again.” 

You weren’t fine. You had just discovered that your brain was your biggest enemy, betraying you with a sudden attraction to your nemesis. That psychology degree was going to be very useful, now that you needed to diagnose why Satoru had become your biggest distraction.

Remember when I said, one might wonder how you of all people ended up with Gojo between your legs? Well here’s the straw that broke your back.

With the way your day had been going, you weren’t really surprised when your shift had gone to shit within the first thirty minutes. You hadn’t even changed out of your cheer uniform and were grateful your manager was nice about it and only made you put on an apron.

You were a baker at a small shop, and while you usually only iced pastries and baked bread, the cashier had called out so you were forced to cover both positions. 

After ringing up the nastiest group of teenagers, you accidentally burned an entire rack of focaccia bread and your finger in the process. Your manager was understanding and thankfully had been able to find someone to cover your shift. You weren’t happy about missing out on money but at least you could lay in your bed and relax after the shit day you had. Right?

Wrong!

Usually when Shoko has company, she texts you beforehand to let you know, so imagine your surprise when you walk into your dorm and you’re scarred for life with the sight of a random’s man ass as he fucks your friend into the mattress. 

The worst part is that they don’t even notice you! No one jumps up in shock and rushes to cover themselves. They continue to fuck like animals, as if you weren’t standing in the hall in shock. 

After a few seconds you realize you should probably leave, jealousy coursing through you as you slam the door and storm from the building. Even Shoko, who never showed romantic or sexual interest in anyone, was getting laid while you were barely getting by with your toys. 

Fine. If you weren't going to get some rest, you could at least be productive. 

The library was the perfect place to study, especially at this time of night. Most people were partying, working or if they were Shoko, getting fucked in their dorms. Libraries didn't contain drunk assholes, frat presidents trying to flirt with you or rude customers screaming at you over something you couldn’t control. It was calm. Quiet. 

And closed..

You stared at the locked doors, legs aching from the walk you just took to get here, thumb still hurting from earlier. You slowly walk to the locked doors, shrugging your cheer bag over your shoulder and checking the sign posted on the front door.

CLOSED DUE TO SHORT STAFFING

The universe was working against you, repaying you for some sin you committed in a past life and deciding you weren’t even allowed one small win today. And to make matters worse, you were still in your cheer uniform and it was getting chilly out.

You blamed Gojo. All of your issues started the moment he walked into that fucking lecture hall and decided to sit next to you. You were completely distracted after that which led to a shit cheer practice, a thirty minute shift and a burnt finger, and walking in on your best friend getting fucked. 

You could kill him right now and not feel an ounce of remorse, even if you logically knew it wasn’t really his fault. You had to blame someone. 

You read the sign again, as if it would magically change and the library would open. It was closed and you were fucked. Simple.

Based on the rare times Shoko did bring someone to your room, it lasted a few hours but you were always at work so it had never been a problem until today. 

"Unbelievable." You dropped your head back with a groan, tightening your grip on your bag and staring into the dark sky. Of course the one night you needed somewhere quiet to hide, the universe decided to laugh in your face. 

You kick lightly at the pavement, annoyed at yourself more than anyone else. If you hadn’t cut off the last guy you had been sleeping with just because he tried to invite you to a frat party, maybe you’d also be getting fucked right now. 

It was your own fault really. You were too stubborn for your own good, your mother would tell you. “No one will want to put up with your high demands.” as if you hadn’t gotten that trait from her. That was fine. You didn’t need anything more from a man than sex, but no one had been able to match your high drive. 

“I just need…” You look at the door again, tugging the handle just in case someone had forgotten to take down the sign.

Locked. 

“God dammit!” 

A laugh sounded from behind you and you froze, knowing exactly who it was without even turning around. Apparently the universe hadn't finished ruining your night yet. Yay, you. 

“Rough night?” 

You ball your fists and take a deep breath, counting to three and fighting back tears of frustration. When you turned around, you took in a sharp breath at the sight in front of you.

Gojo was holding a textbook under his arm and wearing a brown cardigan with a blue shirt underneath, light beige pants and were those..

He was wearing glasses. Not shades but bulky glasses that made him look kinda nerdy and the sight had the hair on your arms standings and your pupils expanding. He looked like a completely different person but you could tell it was him from the signature smirk he wore.

He stares at you with a titled head and you swallow the spit forming in your mouth. You weren’t seriously thirsty over Gojo right now, right? I mean, you knew you were sex deprived but he was everything you stood against so why were you staring at him like he was the best thing to walk the earth since Jesus himself? 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Came to study. Crazy concept, right?”

Your hand tightens around the handle of your bag, eyes drifting back to the textbook he was holding, though that was far from what you were staring at. Since when did Gojo have such huge hands and why were you attracted to his veins protruding as he grips the book?

“For you, yeah.” 

“Ouch.” He laughs, soft and gentle and the sound has your pussy clenching against nothing. No fucking way was your body betraying you right now. You had never in your life clenched at a laugh, nor grown wet at the sight of someone and yet it was happening no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. 

Gojo hadn’t even touched you, nor made any kind of sexual joke like he typically would and yet you were acting like a cat in heat. 

“You really think so little of me? I’m kind of heartbroken.” 

Yes. But you don’t say it, just look back at the dark building in defeat. Gojo notices and looks over your shoulder, his own sagging as he mumbles something you can’t understand.

“That’s unfortunate. You need somewhere to study, sweets? We can go to my place.” 

You’re turning to him so fast your head spins, shoulders stiff as you prepare to lay into him but he beats you before you can even open your mouth, hands come up defensively. 

“Not at the frat, I only live there part time. I have an apartment off campus, and a desk we can use.” 

He waits for you to say something before giving up and sighing in exhaustion. You could tell he was annoyed but you didn’t care. If he was going to try to get you back to his place, he’d have to try a little harder than whatever this was.

“We should probably study together anyways right? You know, since we’re partners now..”

You should have said no, told him to fuck off but he did have a point. The library was closed, your roommate was otherwise occupied, and the faster you and Gojo finished your project, the sooner you’d never have to see each other again. 

"One hour."

His grin appeared immediately as he held his free hand out to you. "Knew you couldn't resist me."

You scuff and move past him, getting into the passenger seat and making sure you glared out the window the entire ride there.

Gojo didn’t live far, no more than twenty minutes away from campus and you were grateful. Being in an enclosed space with him was hard enough, especially since the entire thing smelled of that cinnamon cologne that drove you crazy.

He tried to talk to you. About football practice, the assignment, the terrible song on the radio, anything to hear your voice but you were dead set on ignoring him, answering in low grunts and one word responses. 

“The uniform is hot by the way. Had no idea you were a cheerleader, but I can’t say I mind watching you while I practice. The next time you want my attention though, just ask. No need to risk cracking your head open just to look at me.” 

You’re insulted, face burning but you won’t feed into this petty spat he clearly wants to have. In the two years you’ve known him and the times you had to suffer his presence, you came to learn that everything he said was to get a reaction out of you.

Not this time. 

“Gojo?”

“Yes, princess?” 

“Shut up.”

Gojo’s apartment smelled like expensive air freshener and a faint trace of weed he swore he didn’t smoke anymore and it was from Sukuna and Suguru who had been over earlier. You ignored him, dropping your bag on the living room floor and looking around. 

It was nice. Not spotless but cleaner than you thought it would be. Most of the furniture, you noticed, was black. His couch, the tables and chairs, even the curtains. 

A stack of textbooks sat on his coffee table alongside a half-empty sports drink and what looked like a few polaroids. You move to get a better look but before you can really see anything, Gojo brushes past you and snatches them.  

“Tsk, nosey girl.” He clicks his tongue and moves toward the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” 

An hour later, you’re full off the takeout food Gojo got delivered and knee deep in your studies. You try to ignore the fact that the desk you’re sitting at is in his fucking bedroom but if he wasn’t overreacting to it then you weren’t going to either. 

The last thing you needed right now was for Gojo to get distracted. He had actually been focusing on the project, refraining from making any crude comments or staring at your breast though you’d caught him looking at your bare legs once.  

"Interpersonal attraction refers to the positive feeling one person forms toward another,'" You were sitting together at his desk as he read aloud from the textbook while you took notes. "'Researchers generally agree attraction develops through a combination of biological, cognitive, behavioral, and environmental factors.'"

You typed the definition into your outline while he skimmed farther down.

"'Repeated exposure to an individual tends to increase positive feelings toward them, even in the absence of meaningful interaction.'"

You don’t miss the way he lets his shoulder bump into yours, body moving an inch closer to yours. You have to squeeze your legs and bite back the moan creeping up your throat. He was still wearing the glasses, claiming his contacts were drying his eyes and that you would have known he wore them if you spent more than five minutes around him without ripping his head off. 

You clear your throat and lean your body the opposite way. "The mere exposure effect."

"Mhmm. Which basically means people annoy each other until they fall in love."

Your fingers paused over the keyboard, slightly shaking as you look over at him. He was already staring, having moved closer to you again. The desk was big enough to hold both your laptops but small enough that you still invaded each other's space, his trick of turning his chair to face you doing nothing now that his knees brushed against the side of your thigh. 

He was reaching a hand out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and you didn’t stop him, didn’t yell at him to fuck off. You just sat there, breathless, mind trying to process what was happening as he frowned at your lip tucked between your teeth.

"That’s not what it says." You whisper and he leans in closer, the corner of his mouth tugging in a small smile, eyes soft behind his glasses.

Gojo had been a thorn in your side since freshman year. He was everything you hated: arrogant, a fratboy, rich nepo baby, and a massive fuckboy that played with girls' hearts like they were toys meant for his entertainment.

But he was also infuriatingly smart when he bothered to try, and right now, he was watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle and your pussy grow wet. 

“Sure, whatever my princess says.” His voice is sultry and low as he reaches a hand out again to rubs his thumb on your lower lip, pulling it out before letting go. 

You swallow hard, butterflies fluttering in your belly. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re tense.” He lets his hand travel to your shoulder, slow enough so that you could pull away, and when you don’t, he continues tracing your exposed collarbone, toying with the v-neck of your top. 

“You’ve hated me for three years. That takes a lot of passion, ever wonder why you care so much?”

You opened your mouth to yell at him, to defend yourself against what he was implying because you had plenty of reasons to hate him but couldn’t think of any at this moment. Your brain was short circuiting and it was humiliating. 

“I don’t care.” You manage to spit out.

Gojo’s eyes darkened, his grin fading. “Liar.” 

His other hand slid up your thigh, creeping under your skirt and still, you didn't move away. Instead you decided to embarrass yourself even further and spread your legs to give him easier access. 

“The chapter says physical attraction can override rational judgment. Maybe that’s what’s happening here. You claim I'm an asshole but you’re still sitting in my room, letting me touch you.”

“I’m-, oh!” You cry when he hovers over your clothed cunt, barely touching it and you’re bucking against him for more. So pathetic, so stupid. “I’m merely analyzing the s-subject matter.”

“Yeah, princess? Let’s put that theory to the test. I’ll keep touching you..” He turns your chair toward him, ignoring the way you gasp and glare at him for the loss of contact. He pulls it closer, the legs scrapping against the floorboard.

“And we’ll see if your rational judgment kicks in.” 

He taps your thigh and you lift your hips as he pulls your panties down and tosses them over his shoulder. He’s spreading your legs again, further this time and he doesn’t waste a moment. His fingers are rubbing against your slit and you toss your head onto the back of the chair, hips shaking as you whine into his hand.

Gojo moved to kneel in front of you, his middle finger slipping between your folds and nudging at your entrance. When you looked down at him, entire body on fire, he was staring up at you as if looking for your approval. 

Obviously grinding against him like a desperate whore wasn’t enough. No, Gojo wanted to hear you, to humiliate you and mock you for all the shit you had given him just to let him finger you when you should have been working on your project. 

“Use your words or I'll stop.” He goes to pull his fingers away and your heart lurches. 

The last thing you wanted was to beg him of all people but you were too far gone to not get something out of this. So you swallow your pride and nod. 

“Keep going, you fucking jerk.”

He chuckles and grabs your thighs, placing them both over his shoulders. “I’m about to eat your pussy and you still can’t be nice to me.” 

You don’t respond and he’s pushing his middle and index fingers through your neglected hole, not giving you any time to adjust before leaning down and taking your clit in his mouth. 

“Satoru!” You cry out his name and the sound of coming from your lips has him groaning against you and closing his eyes to savor it. 

You reach a hang out to grab his hair, looking down and clenching around his fingers because the way he has his head under your skirt is so fucking hot you think you might cum on the spot. He was so hungry for you that he didn’t even properly undress you, greedy man that he was. 

His fingers curl inside of you, pumping a little faster as he licks up and down your slit, stopping to suck on your clit each time he passes it. When you try to close your legs, he grabs your thigh with his free hand and pulls it further open. 

“Mmff, shtay righ' there.” He mumbles against your pussy, wrapping his lips back around your clit and sucking hard, using his teeth to lightly nibble and you’re leaking so much you can feel it dripping down your thighs. 

This wasn’t the kind of research you had been expecting to do but you would accept it just this once, for the sake of your grade of course. This is also the longest he’s ever been quiet in your presence and if you had known that he was such a good pussy eater you would have put his mouth to use long ago. 

‘Haaah, go deeper, I- oh god, nggghh I need more!” You grind against his face harder, gripping his hair and pulling him closer. 

He just moans encouragingly, burying his fingers knuckles deep and fucking you dumb with them. Your squishy walls contracted around his fingers and with the next curl of them, you were wrapping your legs around his head and cumming so hard that your vision turned white, orgasm stealing your sight while you buck wildly against his face. 

You were making a huge mess but Gojo didn’t seem to mind, licking you through it and only slowing his fingers when your legs dropped. He placed a kiss on your pussy before pulling from under your skirt and sucking on his fingers, looking right up at you. 

His glasses were crooked, face glistening with your release and his cheeks were flushed red. Your chest heaved up and down dramatically as you fought to breathe properly again. 

You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard and irritated you, made you crave more but you could never let him touch you again. This was a mistake, a serious lapse of judgement and yet you still needed more, your pussy already coming back to life. 

You quickly stand and pull your skirt down, legs weak as you move around Gojo to find your panties, mortified at your own feelings right now. You just let a frat president go down on you and now you were thinking of how he would fuck you? 

Clearly you weren’t in the right state of mind. 

“You’re not tired of running away from me yet?” Gojo snaps, all sense of playfulness gone. 

He was annoyed, you could hear it in his voice. Not that you cared but he was your ride here so you might as well appease him a little, right? 

“I’m not running!” You yell, fingers digging into your palms. You were so beyond angry with yourself, disappointed that you got this far without falling into his den and now here you were. “I got what I wanted, the theory was correct but I think this study session has lasted longer than it should have.” 

He looks at you in disbelief, taking his glasses off with a sigh and setting them on the desk before walking over to you, running his hand through his messy hair. 

You were frozen. Every rational part of your brain screamed at you to shove him away and walk out. But your body was humming, and the way he looked at you made you want more. 

He hovered over you, grabbing your chin and titling your head back so he can look you in the eyes, his other hand on your hip and playing with the waistband of your skirt. 

“I can tell you haven’t been touched properly in a long time. Why do you insist on pretending like you don’t feel this pull between us, even if we hate each other?”

“You hate me?” Your lip twitches. While you can confidently say you despised him, he never gave the impression that he felt the same unless he had some sick way of showing it. 

Gojo frowns and you hate how beautiful he looks. “No, never. I do want to fuck you though, so maybe we can help each other out.”

He pulls your skirt down just a little, fingers rubbing at the skin on your hip and sending a shiver through your body. 

“Kind of like.. an arrangement. You can keep on hating me in public but in this room, I get to fuck you for as long as I want. Call it research for our project. Deal?” 

You take a minute to think about it. 

You were still seething at yourself for letting him touch. This meant nothing, you still hated him but even you had needs that needed to be met and if Gojo made you cum that hard from his fingers and tongue, you had to know what his cock could do.

“Fine, but I should warn you that I have a really high libido that most men can’t keep up with. If it’s too much I’ll just find-”

He cuts you off with a laugh, grabbing your hips and pulling you close enough that you feel his rock hard cock twitching against your stomach. He grabs the back on your neck and squeezes until you’re looking up at him again. 

“You just haven’t been with a real man yet, princess. But don’t worry, I'll take real good care of you. Now take off your fucking clothes.” 

You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to ask who he was talking to and at the same time, kicking yourself because you kind of liked it.  

“Safe word?” He asked, unbuttoning his pants and stepping out them, his bulge huge against his white boxers, a small wet spot sitting on the front of them. 

You roll your eyes and lift your shirt off, then your skirt. “We’re not children. Our safe words are stop and no.” 

He nods and pulls his cardigan off and then the shirt underneath. Holy fucking sleeper build. Gojo was ripped but you’d never be able to tell under the clothes he wears. You’re taken aback by just how attractive he was, remembering the day you first saw him and how he was ten times hotter now. 

Still a fratboy, still a prick but even you couldn't deny that he was one of the most stunning humans out there. Kind of otherworldly if you thought about it long enough.

“How about kissing? You cool with that, orrr?” He asks while pulling his boxers down and stepping out of them, his cock hitting his stomach and it was definitely the biggest one you’d ever seen. Thick and pulsing, pre leaking from the mushroom tip.

“Off limits. We’re strictly enemies with benefits, nothing more.”

 There was no need to make this more difficult than it already was. You were beating yourself up for even being attracted to him, then to add kissing on top of that? You needed to save a shred of your dignity so you would be keeping your kisses. 

“Fine, and we always use condoms. Not trying to be a dad in college like Toji. And no whining.”

You nod in agreement even though you were on birth control, snapping your bra off and tossing it, letting Gojo admire you and relishing in the way he looks like a lovestruck fool, hearts basically bursting in his eyes. 

You don’t give him long, moving to climb on his bed and lay on your back. Your body was tight with need and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing, spreading your legs and playing with your pussy. 

Gojo stands by the side of the bed and watches you as he reaches into the nightstand for a condom, using his teeth to rip it open and stroking it on. 

You feel the bed dip first, his body climbing between yours, using his legs to nudge yours further open and then the heat of his cock pressing against your thigh. 

“Fuck, you look so perfect.” 

You open your eyes and if you didn’t hate him you’d say the same thing. His white hair messy on his head, the longer pieces falling into his bright blue eyes. His body was perfect, his shoulders not too broad but muscular, his waist thinner. 

“Whatever, just fuck me.” You huff and in a blink he’s smacking his cock on your pussy then lining himself up with your entrance. 

His heat engulfs you when he lays over your body, tapping your thigh so you wrap your leg around his waist.

He places his forehead on yours and smiles as sweetly as possible, one hand digging into the bed above your head to hold him up, the other placed on your hip.

“Ready?” He nudges your nose, gripping the sheets to stop himself from kissing you. 

You bit your lip and nod, before stopping and pushing at his chest when he starts to nudge the tip in. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll ruin your life.” 

He rolls his eyes, swallowing the words ‘you already have’. “Sure, now can I fuck you?”

When he pushes the first few inches in, you gasp from the sting and before you can stop him he’s leaning down and pressing his soft lips against yours to quiet you.

He squeezes your hip and with one more brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you to the hilt in one go. You cried into his mouth and he swallowed it, your back arching off the bed as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against your ass. He was almost too big, stretching you in ways that should’ve been painful but wasn’t. 

He was the perfect fit, just what you had been looking for, the tip of his cock pressing deliciously against your cervix.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, pulling back to look at you before slamming into you again. And again, his hips pistoned against yours, each snap of his pelvis driving him deeper and grinding onto your clit, your toes curling from the intense pleasure. 

“Satoru! Huuuh, yes, fuck me just like that!” You tighten your legs around his waist, moving your hips up to meet his. 

You clawed at his back, your nails leaving red marks as he fucked you like he hated you. Like he wanted to ruin you and punish you for making him wait years to do this. And god, did you love it.

“Harder,” you gasped.

He laughed darkly, gripping your throat just enough to make your vision swim. “You want it rough, baby? S-shit! You want me to fuck you like the enemy that you are?”

“Yes Satoru! P-please.”

In a flash he was flipping you over, placing you on your hands and knees and slamming back into you before you could catch your breath. Your ass was in the air and he pushed your head down until it was flat on the mattress, his hands tight on your waist as he pounded into you, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force. 

Thank god he had his own place because each thrust had the bed rocking and sent a jolt of hot pleasure through you, your pussy clench around him and making obscene wet squelching noises that only fueled his hunger for you.

Gojo picked up his pace, veiny cock rubbing against your walls and he wished he could feel your raw pussy, wanted to stuff you full of his cum but he knew better so he ignored his instinct and focused on fucking you. 

The cries you let slip out are music to his ears, a song he wanted to hear every fucking day but he would settle for tonight, for now. He leans forward and fucks into you harder, hand squeezing your boob and twisting your nipples, pinching and pulling until you’re whimpering, tears pooling down your face. 

“Didn’t I say no whining?  Be a good girl, princess.”

You don’t hear what he’s saying, too drunk on his cock as he fucks you stupid, drool spilling from your mouth and onto the sheet. The sight has Gojo groaning, his balls tightening as he splits you open on his cock and fucks you stupid.

“Shit, look at you. All fucked out. Fucking take it baby. Take my cock like a good cum slut.”

His words have you shaking violently with your second orgasm, eyes rolled back as he fucked you through it, squirting heavy on his cock and making a beautiful mess. 

“Never letting anyone fuck you again.” He pushes you further onto the bed, your stomach flat against the mattress as he grinds deep into you, completely dominating you, his hands gripping the sheets above you. “This is mine, say it’s my pussy, baby. Tell me you belong to me-fuck-haaah.”

You don’t answer but the way you’re crying for more is enough to satisfy Gojo and he’s filling the condom with white hot cum, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure rocks him, his hips twitching as he empties himself into the latex.

He gives sloppy, lazy thrusts as he rides it out, pushing deep into you one last time before pulling out and falling onto his back next to you. While you come back down to earth, he’s ripping the condom off, tying it and tossing it into the trash before reaching for another one. 

Before you know it, he’s rolling it and pulling you onto his lap, lining himself up and pulling you down onto his cock while pushing up into you, fingers digging into your hips. 

“Ready for round two?” He smirks when you start to move despite still trying to remember how to breathe properly.

He doesn’t stop after that, keeps fucking you until you’re on the verge of passing out, body weak and shaking but still wanting more.

“What number are we at now, four? Come on, princess. Gimme another one, I know you can do it. Gotta get to five, it’s my favorite number.”

Holy shit.. Gojo was everything you had been looking for in a sexual partner. You had been fucking for two hours now and yet he still has the energy of a man running on spite and arrogance.

It was almost comical. You were a fucking goddess, you could get anyone you wanted, any man would be lucky to have you. Yet the only one who seemed to know how to satisfy you was the one guy you couldn’t stand. 

Not that any of that mattered when he had you riding his cock, again, your pussy swollen from how hard he’d been fucking you without tiring. Your clit was overstimulated but he kept rubbing it anyway, your back arching as you felt the pressure building in your belly again.

“C-can’t Toru’” You slurred, drooling dripping down your chin, your face completely wet with tears, makeup long ruined.

“I believe in you, baby.” He smacks your ass hard and then does it again just to watch the way you jump. “Look at you, taking me so well. S’proud of you babe.” 

You ignore the pet name, ass on fire and too close to cumming for the fifth time to argue with him over it.His hands grip your hips, pulling you up and down on his cock. You twirled your hips, spelling your name out as you fucked him back, body aching from the intense fuck session. 

It wasn’t long before you were grinding harder against Gojo’s pelvis and squirting on him again, fingers pressing into his shoulders as he fell over the edge with you. Pushing himself up and throwing his head back with a roar, legs stretching out as he pumped a thick load of cum into condom. 

You move up and down as much as you can, helping him finish his orgasm before collapsing against his chest. Gojo wraps his long arms around you, cock still seated inside you as you both fight to breathe, sweaty bodies sticking together, eyes droopy with exhaustion. 

What a fucking night. 

You would one hundred percent be fucking him again, even if it was just until you found someone you could tolerate outside of the bedroom. As for now, Gojo was the only one that could tame the fire inside of you and fuck did you hate to admit that. 

You can feel his heart beating against your own, his hand rubbing up and down spine, lips kissing the side of your head. As reality comes back to you, you freeze before pushing yourself off him and laying next to him on the bed. 

You ignore the hurt look on his face. 

“Wanna shower with me?” Gojo asks, sitting up and pushing his hair from his forehead, looking at you over his shoulder with cloudy eyes. 

“Seperate.”  You don’t even look at him. Way to flip the script on him, he was usually the one ignoring girls after getting what he wanted.

He nods and goes through his drawer before finding a pair of sweatpants to put on, the obvious bulge of his still hard cock making your pulse jump.

He goes into the bathroom connected to his room and you hear the shower turn on before he comes back out and tosses you a towel. You can tell he’s upset but you ignore it. He wasn’t your man, it wasn't your problem. 

After you wash your body and your hair, you find that he’s left you a pair of shorts and a shirt on the bed. When he comes back in the room and sees you dressed in his clothes, the size of it swallowing you, his heart damn near stops and you see the way he swallows the lump in his throat. 

He clears his throat and smiles at you, slowly walking toward you and your body goes cold when he places his hand on your cheek and leans down to kiss your forehead. 

That was the second time he broke your rule and the second time you didn’t correct him.

“Stay. I’ll bring you home in the morning, I can take the couch.” 

You nod your head ok, lost for words and he simply nods and moves past you to take his shower.

Later that night you toss and turn before giving up and laying on your back, staring at the ceiling in the nearly dark room, drumming your fingers on your stomach. You sometimes had nights where you just couldn’t sleep no matter what you did and it seems tonight was one of those nights. 

You’re still sore between your legs, a reminder that you went back on your word and let Gojo fuck you. You didn’t regret, even had plans on doing it again but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with yourself. More so because you smelled just like him after using his soap.

He just knew all the right places to touch you, all the best ways to make you cum harder than you did the time before, his cock fitting so perfectly inside of you. It was a shame he had the personality of a walnut. 

When you finally turn on your side to go to sleep, eyes burning from exhaustion, you feel the bed dip behind you and strong arms wrap around you. 

You try to squirm out of Gojo’s grip but he tightens his arms around you, pulling you until your ass is flush against his hard cock, his chin tucked atop your head. 

“Gojo.. we need to sleep, we have class tomorrow.” 

“So I’m only Satoru when I fuck you? Wicked girl.” He leans down to kiss your neck and you let him, again, feeling your clit grow erect and that ache return. 

“That’s your name isn’t it?” You huff out, moving your hips back against him.

He ignores you, hand going to your hip you pull you close as he grinds into you, slipping yours and his pants down. He quickly puts on a condom before pushing into you, bottoming out in one thrust, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“Gonna fuck you until you only know Satoru.. You know, my favorite number is actually six.”

You may have bitten off more than you could chew.

❦ lisa's note: sorry about the pledge scene 🥲 I wanted to show how frats are and needed you to truly hate them. promise I'll make up for it!

© art creds: gojouify

Before you could protest, he rose, pulling you up with him as if you weighed nothing. In one smooth motion he swept you into his arms, carrying you back inside the main house. The servants bowed and vanished around corners. they had long grown used to their lord’s open affection.

...

the elders were already gathered. You moved to serve tea, old habit, but Satoru’s hand caught yours.

“Sit” he said simply, guiding you to the cushion beside his own.

The elders’ eyes widened when he asked them to pour thier own tea. One elder, an old man with a face like weathered stone, cleared his throat.

“You should not be idle, daughter” Elder Haruto intoned, sipping his tea while his gaze flicked disapprovingly to the way Satoru lounged nearby, one hand resting possessively on your knee. “The floors must be polished. The lord’s footwear cleaned and set properly. A wife’s hands are never still, child or no.”

“Her hands will rest when I say they rest.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If the floors need polishing, the servants will handle it. As for my geta—” He glanced at the wooden sandals by the door, the ones you had never been allowed to touch, even before you were pregnant, “—I never let her near them. Why would I start now?”

“My lord… the lady is perfectly capable of light duties, tradi—”

“Tradition? now observing education for higher students is enough work for her.” Satoru cut in, voice pleasant yet edged with Infinity’s chill, “She worked herself to exhaustion at home before I wed her. I will not allow it now.” He glanced at you, eyes warm. “Besides… I like doing things for her.”

You stared at him again, long, unblinking.

The elder looked displeased, but said nothing more.

...

It happened on the third afternoon of his absence. The sky hung heavy with late spring clouds, and the air inside the main hall smelled of aged wood and incense. You were kneeling by the low table, arranging fresh white camellias and pine branches, when elder Haruto and two others entered without announcement.

“Daughter in law of the Gojo house” Haruto began, his voice like dry leaves scraping stone. His gaze flicked to your middle with clear disdain.

“Carrying the heir does not exempt you from your duties. It is a wife’s role to maintain the household’s dignity. Do not think your condition makes you special.”

Tradition bound you, as a non sorcerer brought into the clan through marriage, your place was one of service and quiet strength. Defiance against the elders could ripple through the entire household.

“But… my husband said—”

“His indulgence is temporary,” another elder cut in sharply. “The child is not yet born. Clean them, thoroughly.”

A servant boy hovered anxiously nearby, eyes wide with worry, but he dared not intervene.

...

The sliding shoji screens of the estate did not merely open, they rattled on their wooden tracks, vibrating with the sheer force of the cursed energy bleeding off Satoru as he stepped into the main pavilion.

The air in the compound always grew heavier when the clan head returned, but tonight, it felt suffocating. It tasted of ozone and impending lightning.

You were already asleep in the main room, exhausted from a day that had fractured your spirit far more than your body. Beneath the heavy, silk futon, your hand rested protectively over the slight swell of your belly, a few months along, still delicate, a fragile miracle you and Satoru had wept over in the privacy of your quarters.

Satoru shed his haori, his six eyes instantly cataloging the state of the house. He had been gone for three days on an emergency deployment in the north. Three days too long.

"Gojo sama."

A small, breathless voice broke the silence of the corridor. It was a servant boy whose family had served Satoru’s personal branch for generations. The boy was with some information.

Satoru paused.

"Tatsuya" he murmured, his voice deceptively low. "Why are you still up? And why does the courtyard smell like damp earth?"

Tatsuya swallowed hard, looking toward the closed doors of your bedroom before continuing. "While you were away... the council of elders called upon the lady."

Satoru’s posture didn't change, but the ambient temperature seemed to drop. "Did they?"

"They... they claimed she was becoming arrogant. They said a housewife of the Gojo clan must know her place, less she 'grow into her mind' and believe herself above the bloodline." Tatsuya’s voice hitched. "They dragged her to the northern wash-basin. They forced her to clean the clan’s formal geta and zori. With the well water."

The silence that followed was absolute. Not even the crickets in the garden dared to make a sound.

"They forced her?" Satoru repeated. The words were quiet, but they carried the weight of a collapsing star.

"She refused at first, reminding them of her condition," Tatsuya whispered, tears leaking onto the floorboards. "But Elder Ogi... he grabbed her arm. He forced her down to her knees on the stone path. She tripped. Her knee... her knee was scraped. She spent three hours in the cold, scrubbing their filth. She asked them to let her rest, but they told her she needed to be 'disciplined'."

Satoru didn't say another word, nor did he storm off. He simply vanished from the hallway, leaving behind a draft of freezing air.

In the dimly lit inner sanctuary of the estate, three of the clan’s oldest elders sat around a low table, sipping roasted green tea. They were discussing the upcoming seasonal rituals, completely self assured in their ancient, stagnant authority.

The heavy oak doors of the sanctuary didn't just open, they shattered inward, exploding into wooden splinters that embedded themselves into the priceless hanging scrolls on the walls.

The elders scrambled backward, but before they could even draw a breath to protest, Satoru was there.

He didn't use Limitless to crush them from afar. This required the brutal, visceral reality of his bare hands.

"What" he begins, voice deceptively soft, "in the name of all the ancestors, possessed you to order my pregnant wife to wash filth?"

"Satoru! What is the meaning of—"

Ogi, the eldest among them, didn't get to finish his sentence. Satoru lunged forward, his movement a blur of lethal grace. He grabbed Ogi’s right wrist and twisted.

A sickening, wet pop echoed through the room as the bones in Ogi's wrist shattered under Satoru's grip. The old man screamed, a high, reedy sound of pure agony, as Satoru slammed him face first onto the tatami mats.

"You touched her" Satoru whispered. The sound of his voice was worse than any shout. It was dead. Completely devoid of the playful sorcerer they thought they could manage.

Satoru brought his heavy, geta down directly onto Ogi’s outstretched hand, grinding his heel into the old man's knuckles. The sound of fracturing finger bones filled the room. Ogi choked on his own vomit, pinning himself to the floor under the immense, crushing weight of Satoru’s physical strength.

"Satoru! Step back! This is a violation of clan law! She is a woman! She must be disciplined to understand the weight of the Gojo name!" another elder shrieked, his hands shaking as he tried to form a cursed technique sign.

Satoru turned his head, his brilliant blue eyes glowing with a terrifying, unhinged light in the shadows. He had never been this angry in his entire life.

"Disciplined?" Satoru's voice rose, vibrating with a rage that made the very foundations of the estate groan. "You dynamic pieces of garbage. You dare talk about discipline to me? About my wife?"

He stepped off Ogi, leaving the old man weeping into the ruined tatami, and advanced on the second elder.

"I don't let her touch a single piece of anything when she is perfectly healthy" Satoru snarled, the raw emotion finally breaking through his terrifying calm.

"the servants wash my damn boots. I carry her across the courtyard when the gravel is too sharp. And you... you useless, disgusting, vile, rotting fossils... you dragged my pregnant woman out into the cold? To scrub your filth? Her knee bleeds because of your exclusive skill of not using a brain"

He grabbed the second elder by the front of his expensive silk kimono, lifting the grown man entirely off the ground with one hand.

"She is the future of this entire fucking world, and you risked her safety—you risked my child—because your fragile, pathetic egos were threatened by her existence?!" Satoru roared, his voice shaking the roof tiles.

"She will think she's the best of all? She is the best of all! She is mine! Which makes her untouchable to the likes of you!"

He threw the elder across the room, smashing him into a heavy wooden cabinet that collapsed under the impact.

"Satoru... the--the hierarchy... her place-" the third elder stammered, backing into the corner, clutching his prayer beads as if they could save him from a god.

“Her place?” The air crackled. “Her place is to be cherished. To be protected. I have torn apart special grade curses with less effort than it takes me to tolerate your outdated nonsense. You dare speak to my wife as if she is a common servant? As if the life she nurtures is insignificant?”

Satoru stood in the center of the ruined room, his breathing heavy, his chest heaving under his clothes. The sheer pressure of his cursed energy was cracking the plaster on the walls. He looked down at them with a disgust so profound it was sickening.

"Listen to me very carefully" Satoru said, his voice dropping back to a lethal, quiet hiss. "Tradition dies when it threatens what is mine."

 "I have never asked her to perform such tasks. Not once. Not before she carried my child, and certainly not now. Do you have any idea what pregnancy entails? The strain? The risk? My wife is not a servant. She is the heart of this clan. She carries the future."

His voice rises, never before this uncontrolled. "You forced her to kneel by a basin while I was away securing this clan's power? While she should be resting, being cared for? If any of you so much as suggest she lift a finger for menial labor again, I will personally ensure your retirement is... permanent. and I will remind you exactly why I am the clan head. Not because of bloodlines or dusty customs. Because I am the strongest. And I will not hesitate to make examples.”

He stepped closer, his shadow engulfing the final elder, deciding it was enough.

"Get out. All of you. Pack your robes, your tea sets, and your useless books, and fuck yourselves out of my estate before the sun rises. If I see a single one of your faces within the clan boundaries tomorrow morning, I won't just break your hands. I will erase your entire branches from the registry. Try me. See if the jujutsu authorities can stop me."

None of them doubted him. The strongest sorcerer in the world was standing before them, completely unhinged. They nodded frantically, Ogi clutching his ruined arm as they dragged themselves out of the room, terrified for their very lives, knowing the strongest's word was law, and his wrath absolute.

The slide of the shoji screen was a mere sigh in the quiet night, a soft friction of wood on wood. The moment Satoru crossed the threshold into the master bedroom, the terrifying, static heavy aura of his rage dissolved entirely, locked away behind the absolute precision of his control. He didn't want even a stray spark of his cursed energy to disrupt your sleep.

The room smelled of sweet tatami, dried lavender, and the faint, bitter tang of the medicinal salve Tatsuya had helped you apply.

Satoru shed his socks, his bare feet sinking into the woven mats as he approached the futon with agonizing care. He knelt beside you, the sheer size of his frame casting a protective shadow over your sleeping form. Without his blindfold, his six eyes tracked every rhythm of your breathing, noting the slight, tense line between your brows even in slumber.

You stirred, your senses waking up before your eyes did. The air in the room suddenly grew warmer, sweeter, thick with the distinct, dizzying scent of him.

"Satoru...?" you mumbled, your voice heavy and thick with sleep. You began to shift, your palms pressing into the futon to push yourself up, but a large, impossibly warm hand slid over your shoulder, gently anchoring you down.

"Shh... stay down, hime" he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against the quiet of the room. "Don't get up for me. Never get up for me."

He slid under the heavy silk duvet, but he didn't pull you into his arms just yet. Instead, he worked his way down to the foot of the futon. His touch was feather light as he peeled back the edge of the blanket, exposing your bare legs to the cool night air.

Your heart pinched, a sudden flush of anxiety warming your cheeks. You remembered the heavy, frozen stone of the northern wash basin, the harsh, disapproving glares of the elders, the way the coarse bristles of the brush had scraped against your skin. You had desperately wanted to hide it from him, to spare him the headache of clan politics when he already carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

But Satoru was already staring at your right knee. The neat, white bandage Tatsuya had carefully wrapped was stark against your skin.

A tiny, involuntary tremor ran through Satoru’s hands. The very fingers that had just shattered bones and ground old men's knuckles into dust were now trembling with a terrifying fragility as he slid his palms beneath your calf, lifting your leg just an inch to cradle it against his chest.

He leaned down, his silver hair spilling over your skin like silk. He didn't just look, he pressed his lips gently against the side of your knee, just beside the gauze, kissing the uninjured skin with a soft, lingering reverence. Then, his lips tracked a slow, agonizingly tender path up your thigh, his breath hot against your skin.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, his forehead resting against your thigh as his voice cracked, raw and bleeding with a guilt he couldn't hide. "I'm so sorry I left you alone. I'm so sorry I wasn't here, sweetness."

The sheer vulnerability in his tone made your throat tight. You reached down, your fingers weaving into the thick, ridiculously soft tufts of his white hair, gently tugging until he shifted upward. He crawled back up the length of your body, sliding his frame beneath the covers until he was flush against you.

"It's okay" you whispered, your thumb catching a stray tear that threatened to spill from the corner of his brilliant, crystalline eyes. "It's just a little scrape, Satoru. Truly. They... they just wanted me to learn the household duties. They said it was tradition for the women of the house. I just didn't want to cause trouble for you."

Satoru let out a ragged, shaky breath that stuttered against your collarbone. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose scenting your skin, inhaling you as if he were a starving man. His lips pressed a frantic, hot sequence of kisses along your jaw, up to your cheek, and finally against your lips, a soft, bruising, desperate kiss that tasted of a possessiveness so deep it bordered on worship.

His large hands slid down your back, molding your spine to his chest, before one palm found its permanent home, flat and warm against the slight, delicate swell of your belly. His fingers splayed wide over your abdomen, a protective shield of flesh and boundless power.

"You don't have duties to anyone but yourself" Satoru swore against your lips, his chest heaving as his heart thudded rapidly, a frantic, wild rhythm against your own ribs. He pulled you so close you could barely tell where your body ended and his began. "You are the lady of this house. My lady. You don't bow to anyone, you don't clean for anyone, and you don't break yourself for their rotting ideas of tradition."

He kissed the crown of your head, his hand on your stomach gently rubbing in tiny, soothing circles, his thumb caressing the soft fabric of your sleepwear.

"Let them talk. Let them rot" he whispered, his voice turning dark for a fraction of a second before softening as he pressed another kiss to your eyelid. "You just stay safe. Stay soft and warm right here. Let me handle the rest. Please, hime... just stay safe for me."

You smiled softly in the dark, your senses clouded by his immense, radiating warmth and the intoxicating rhythm of his breathing. You let your eyes close, completely melting into him, entirely unaware of the bloodied, broken elders currently packing their things in the dead of night, fleeing the estate in absolute terror.

You didn't need to know. As Satoru tightened his arms around you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and burying his face back into your hair, he held you like you were the only piece of reality that mattered in the universe.