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satorusugurugurl · 1 day

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,115

Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff

A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.

“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”

Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.

“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”

“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”

Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”

God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”

“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”

“Thank God for Suguru.”

“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”

“Well—.”

“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”

Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.

Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.

You could fight.

Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.

You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.

“What?”

“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”

“S-Sweetheart—”

You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.

“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.

“Are you positive?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”

“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”

From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.

What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.

“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”

His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.

You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.

Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.

You could make this work.

Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.

“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”

Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.

“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.

The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.

“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.

”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.

A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.

”You’re twitching so hard.”

”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”

Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”

“Over touching my pussy?”

“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”

“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”

“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”

You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.

You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.

He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”

“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”

”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”

”Yours.”

Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.

”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.

”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”

”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”

”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”

You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”

Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.

Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.

He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.

When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.

”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”

“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.

“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”

”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”

You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.

He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.

“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”

” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”

Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.

Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.

“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.

Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.

No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.

While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.

This was perfection.

“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”

“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.

“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”

“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”

Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.

You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.

You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.

“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.

“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”

“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.

His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.

“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”

“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”

Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.

“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”

You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.

“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”

You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”

“Confident in yourself?”

“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”

“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”

“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.

“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”

Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”

“Super uncool.”

“Worth a shot.”

You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”

“I would love to be your wedding date.”

Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@arminloverlol l @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe e @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart t @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 5 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator r @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify @majanggeum @solarrexplosion N@tbzzluvr @username23345 @demonboyssss @sakui1

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kingkaizen · 2 days

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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻

∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3

∘ ft: nanami & gojo

∘ word count: 2.7k

∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk

Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.

No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.

But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.

When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”

“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.

“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”

Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind.

“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.

“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”

Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?

“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.

“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.

“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.

That look never came.

“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.

“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”

The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”.

“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.

“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.

“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.

“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”

You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.

“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.

“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip.

“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.

“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.

“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?”

No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”

Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are.

“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight.

“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”

“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”

“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.

“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.

You fucking loved it.

You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.

“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.

Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.

“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.

“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.

“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.

“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.

“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.

“Not unless you beg for it.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru

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dyaz-stories · 1 day

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say my name and everything just stops || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: You welcome Gojo back after a mission that lasted longer than expected.

(He fucks you on your desk)

word count: 2.6k

genre: canon compliant, smut

cw: porn with some plot, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, fingering, gojo is a tease, light angst, some fluff too, reader is afab, implied fwb, gojo calls reader sensei but they're both teachers

a/n: just a little thing for fun and practice :) enjoy!

more gojo x reader here

Though the sun is setting outside, you’re still at your desk, dutifully filing paperwork. You’ve dismissed the students a long time ago, of course, but you haven’t left the classroom yet. The door sliding open, though you haven’t heard any footsteps, has you glancing up, on high alert. The worry dissipates right away when you’re met with familiar white hair, a broad grin, and all-black clothing.

“Well, well, sensei,” Gojo Satoru says as he approaches your desk with a nonchalant pace, hands in his pockets, “working late, are we?”

“Gojo,” you reply, eyes back on the paper sheet in front of you. “How was your trip?”

“You know you can just ask Ijichi to do that for you, right?” Gojo continues, now standing in front of your desk. “No need for you to do all that by yourself.”

“Ijichi is busy,” you answer, unperturbed by the way he ignored your question. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Did something go wrong?”

“Aw, sensei,” he coos, “were you worried?”

You put down your pen to look up at him. You’re always worried, obviously. While you’re a teacher at Jujutsu High, the main role you’re expected to fulfill is that of strategist, to better coordinate group actions. You wouldn’t be able to do that without being at least a little paranoid.

It just so happens that you are very paranoid.

Faced with your stare, Gojo’s grin widens.

“Well, I guess they were happy to have me around and they had me fix all the little problems they hadn’t been able to get rid of by themselves,” he tells you with a shrug. “If I didn’t do it, no one was going to, so, might as well get everything taken care of in one go.”

It’s hard not to openly grit your teeth at his words. You’re not thrilled about the way Gojo just gets used and shipped off to wherever the elders deem fit. You and Shoko, on the other hand, are expected to remain caged in the more ‘safe’ properties, all in the name of the greater good. You’re not sure what good it’s doing. You still know better than to say it out loud.

“You stopped by Shoko’s before coming here,” you say. It’s not a question, and his face lights up at it.

“One day, you’re really going to have to tell me how you do that.”

It’s not that hard. A light smell of smoke lingers around him; the last button of his shirt is unbuttoned, likely because of an examination; there’s a pen sticking out of his pocket that you suspect he’s stolen off her desk; and he’s not wearing his usual travel shoes, meaning he changed since coming back to Tokyo, and knowing him, you must have been close to the top of his list of people to see, so you don’t think he went home, so Ichiji must have brought them to him at the lab.

You could easily have been wrong, of course. You just made an educated guess, and it worked out well for you.

“I found something weird out there,” he states matter-of-factly. “Didn’t need any patching up. C’mon, don’t tell me you were worried?”

You roll your eyes and push your chair back to stand up. He should have been back three days ago, and you didn’t hear from him. Not that the way your relationship works means you should have. It explicitly doesn’t.

“We don’t know what kind of curses are out there,” you say. “Anything could happen.”

“Aw,” Gojo says. “But you know I’m the strongest. I can take everything they throw at me.”

He says it with such absolute confidence that you want to believe him blindly, but all your instincts rebel at that idea. You can’t let yourself think he’s invincible. You can’t make your plans based on that idea. There’d be too much to lose if— if—

“With how gloomy you look, it’s hard to think you’re happy to see me,” Gojo pouts. “And here I was, thinking I’d get a warm welcome back…”

You scoff, fighting the smile that wants to break on your face, then make to move past him. You have no intention of actually leaving of course, but you know that—

Of course, the second he thinks you’re getting away from him, he grabs your wrist and twirls you around and into him. His arm wraps around your waist smoothly, presses your chest against his.

“Really? You’re not even a little bit happy?” He says it lightly, but you don’t miss the very light twinge of annoyance in his voice.

You like to think that you are one of the few people that can get a rise out of him.

It goes both way, of course, but now that you’re in his arms, after a week without touching him, anger and fear melt away all too easily, and all you want is him.

You put both of your arms around his neck, and push yourself on your tiptoes to capture his lips. There is a second during which he remains still, as if unsure, no matter how unlike him that would be. It’s like you don’t have him back yet, like there’s a part of him, of his mind, that is still out there with the curses.

But the moment passes, and then he’s kissing you feverishly. He pushes you back until you hit your desk, then helps lift you on top of it. The papers you’ve filled so dutifully fall to the floor, but he doesn’t care and neither do you. His warm tongue meets yours and you feel small moans escaping you, which he swallows hungrily. One of his hands sneaks under your shirt, the other pushes up your long skirt as he lifts up one of your legs, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.

You burry your hand in his hair, try to pull him closer to you, because fuck, you’ve missed him, you’ve missed the weight of his body on yours, and you want him, you need him to be as close as possible. He groans inside your mouth, and when your other hand moves down to trace his jaw, his neck, the muscles of his shoulders, before trying to unbutton his shirt, it turns into a full whimper.

Unfortunately, that sound also brings you back to reality, and while your body is an inferno right now, you feel your cheeks heating up even more.

“Wait, wait, Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he almost growls. Now that you’re trying to speak, he presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the skin.

“Satoru,” you whine, left with no strength nor desire to fight him on that, “we shouldn’t— students could—”

“They’ve gone home,” he dismisses your worries easily. “None of them are going to show up here at this time.”

He’s hooking his fingers in your panties now, trying to slide them down your legs, but you catch his arm first. You’re quite the spectacle, breathless and panting, clothes half off. Even then, there’s that serious light in your eyes that just has him weak in the knees.

“Yaga— Yaga could—”

“If you think about it, that’d be doing him a favor,” Satoru hums. “Would give him some really, really good material, if you ask me.”

He doesn’t add that the material in question is all his, and that he’d never let Yaga catch you in the act, just for that reason. He doesn’t have to, because his answer makes you laugh softly.

You always laugh for him.

“He better not find us,” you warn him, as your grasp on his arm relaxes.

“Hm, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as a certain someone can keep quiet…”

You roll your eyes, and then you pull him back down against your lips to interrupt his laugh.

He manages to get your panties out of the way, and then pushes a long finger inside you. You’re already so wet for him, he marvels as it slides in easily. He soon follows it with a second one, spreading you open carefully, and that’s when you throw your head back, closing your eyes and pushing your hand against your mouth to muffle your moan.

“So you’ve really missed me, huh?” he can’t help but tease as he chases your mouth. He’d love nothing more than to hear you loud and clear, but he knows you won’t risk it, no matter how empty the school is right now.

Underneath him, your body trembles, and he can’t resist any longer. He pulls his blindfold out of the way, drinking in the most beautiful sight he’s ever beholden. You’re trying your best not to let the pleasure get to you, but even then, you manage to open an eye to look at him, and you’re met with the stunning blue eyes you wish you could see more often. Something softens inside you, and you reach up to touch his cheek.

“Of course I’ve missed you,” you answer.

Shit. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. He’s already rock hard and all he’s done is rock against you. He wanted to take his time with you tonight, because all he’s had the past week is the memory of you, and that’s nowhere near enough, but it’s not looking like he will last that long.

“Yeah?” he insists as his thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing carefully. “Thought about me while I was gone?”

You let out a loud cry, manage to cover your mouth again before another one comes out. Your thighs are trembling around him, and fuck, he’s going to have to fuck you real soon, otherwise he’s just going to burst in his pants without you even touching him, at this point.

“I’ve thought of you,” he tells you as he pulls his fingers out of you to get rid of his pants. “Thought of how good you feel around me, of how good you sound for me, of how pretty you are when you’re bouncing on my cock…”

He guides his cock against your entrance, presses it against you. You buck your hips, unable to stop yourself, but he doesn’t give it to you, not just yet.

“You really want it that bad, don’t you?” he practically purrs.

“Satoru,” you whine, and oh, if you knew what it does to him when you say his name like that… “don’t make me b— Ah!”

Finally satisfied, he sheathes himself fully inside of you, and fuck, it’s all he’s been dreaming of for days now. Next time he swears he’ll come running back to you the second he’s done with the stupid assignment. You reach up for him and he lets you, lets you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you bury your face in his neck to stifle your moans. His hips set up a lazy pace at first, and you try your best to follow, try to meet him with small movements of your own, before you feel his breath against your ear.

“It’s all good,” he says warmly. “Just let me take care of you, babe. I’ve got you.”

That’s when he picks up the pace, and you’re left to writhe underneath him, whimpering his name desperately against his skin like a prayer, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!

You come, shaking, around him when he brings his fingers to your clit once more, and he doesn’t lose a second of it. The high-pitched moan that you just can’t hold in, the way your head falls back, how your thighs shake on either side of him, it’s all so perfect. You’re perfect.

He does his best to let you ride your orgasm on his cock, but he comes inside you just a couple seconds later, unable to last longer. He collapses on top of you, and your labored breathing fills the room. Your hand on his back moves gently, tracing circles on the nape of his neck, gently running through his hair.

“If you’re not down for a round two just yet, I recommend you stop that,” he mumbles against you, only to regret it immediately, because you do stop.

“We should— we should take this elsewhere,” you say quietly.

Ah, now that’s more like it.

“I can call Ichiji and we could do that in the back of the car on the way home,” he offers cheerfully as he gets up, putting the blindfold back in place, though not before he can see you grimace in horror at his suggestion.

“Absolutely not,” you say firmly, though once more, he was only teasing. He’d never let Ichiji see you like that. “Although, if you could call someone to come clean up in here, just, uh, just in case…”

Cute.

“Done. Now, about that round two…”

“Else. Where,” you insist, and you don’t fall for his cute pout.

He sighs but takes your hand to help you to your feet, then turns around as he pulls out his phone. He’s about to hit Ichiji’s number when your fingers on his skin almost bring a shiver out of him.

“Shouldn’t this be healing?” you ask, frowning, and he realizes you’re talking about the marks you’ve left on his back.

“Nah, I quite like them, actually,” he grins back. “Don’t you?”

There’s a lot of unsaid things that hang between the two of you. A lot of things that are better left unsaid. Sadly, you’re too smart for your own good, and you know better. You leave them be.

“I was worried for you,” is what do you say.

Satoru’s expression shifts. The grin vanishes, and you can’t see his eyes, so you’re not sure how he’s feeling, not until the corner of his lips lift up in a soft smile.

“Thank you,” he says, voice uncharacteristically low.

Then he turns away from you, and he’s as loud and boisterous as ever when Ichiji answers.

Of course. The strongest can’t let himself grow soft.

You bend down to pick up your papers, rearrange them neatly on the desk, eyes still on him, on the animated way he moves around the room.

You think you’re more grateful than he knows, for him being back here. Not because he’s the strongest, not because no one gets rid of a curse like he can, but because he’s Satoru. It’s probably better that way, though. You’re both too busy for distractions.

With a sigh, you put your papers back on the desk, then start moving towards the exit.

“Aren’t we going?” you ask Satoru right as you’re reaching the door.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.

“Hope you wrote all that down, ‘cause I need to get out of here,” he says on the phone, and you hear Ichiji protest, but that doesn’t stop Satoru from hanging up unceremoniously. He follows you in the hallway, shoulders brushing against yours without quite touching.

“Hey, if not in the car, there’s a supply closet on the first floor—”

“No.”

“Yaga’s office is probably—”

“Absolutely not.”

“How about in my bed?” he asks, right against your ear, breath tickling against your skin. Your cheeks heat up.

“…Sure.”

He only savors his victory for a second.

“What about the couch?”

“Don’t push it.”

But he does, and you let him.

How could you not, when you finally have him back?

still trying to get used to writing gojo's character, don't know if i quite have him just yet. i hope you enjoyed this, any feedback you have is welcomed and encouraged! reblogs and comments are what keeps me writing, so please engage with my work to let me know if you'd like to see more~

if you enjoy my writing, you can find more gojo x reader here

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo imagine #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #gojo fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n #my writing

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that-weeb-in-ur-closet · 14 hours

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"Energized with all the glory."

F!reader x FAMOUS!Satoru Gojo

♡ Tags. Female reader x Satoru Gojo, rough sex, drinking, uses of the words "princess", "my pretty", "my dear", and "Pretty girl", swearing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS IS SMUT.

Satoru is beautiful, and that's an understatement. Short, fluffy white hair, smooth fair skin, long white eyelashes, long fingers, a slim yet muscular build, a silky voice, glossy lips, and of course, his hypnotic blue eyes.

So, it's no surprise that a modeling agency came to him one day, or that he became famous in three days, and of course, it's not a surprise you saw him in every magazine, every post you see on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, you name it.

But, the supermodel saw you once, and was obsessed the very second it happened.

He just saw one of your random posts, and needed to know more about you.

So, he slid into your dm's.

...

And now, here we are, in his mansion, sipping red wine while you sit on his lap.

It was such a sultry and soft vibe, dim lights, him wearing a black tuxedo, and you wearing a beautiful red dress he bought you beforehand. And if you asked him why he did all this, he wouldn't tell you. Mainly because he himself doesn't know.

"Hm. I think you look really nice in that dress, my dear. It fits you perfectly, dontcha think?" He asks with his cheeky grin, booping you on your nose.

You nod in response, a soft smile on your lips as you look up at him. The wine is clearly expensive, maybe a bit too expensive for your liking. You're just a normal girl, living a normal life. You didn't expect this supermodel to invite you to his house, one of his many houses.

But, it all made sense after his endless compliments on how beautiful you are, and of course, it made even more sense when his hand started to wonder down your body, gently squeezing your nipples through the thin fabric.

"S-Satoru, H-he—" You get cut off by him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you can feel his smirk from the way you try to hide your moan. His other hand starts to slip lower, rubbing against your thigh as you start to feel a poke against your ass.

"Hmm... It's okay, princess. Just relax for me, yeah?" He says with that charming smile, rolling up your dress to expose your panties that are soaking.

How can you say no? The supermodel let you in his house, gave you a fancy dress, fancy whine, and—he looks gorgeous. And, not very many people can experience this, so why not enjoy it?

And that's how you ended up in his bed, head pushed into the pillows, him ramming into you with the meanest thrusts you've ever had. You scream for him eyes rolling back while both your bodies continue to collide in a back-and-forth motion, him whispering "You're doing so good, my pretty— fuck- not many can take me this well~" he slurs out, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

"S-Satoru, p-please, be gentle— nghh- y-you-" You cut yourself off with a streaking moan when he goes faster, and you can feel his smirk when he talks.

"D-oh, why would I be gentle when I h-have the best pussy in the world r-right here?" He asks in a low and breathless way, voice high like he's about to moan or cum.

You don't answer, you can't answer. You just keep babbling his name, the feeling of him pushing in and out of you, hands rubbing circles into your hips, and his whines, it's all too much.

"Pretty g-girl, I-I fuck, I'm g-gonna c-c-" But he can't even finish his sentence when you clench around him. He cuts on the spot, strings of long and hot cum shooting into you. You follow suit, with him still grinding against you through both your orgasms, leaving you overstimulated and shaking, not to mention out of breath and about to pass out.

But, he quickly lets go of you and rolls you over, smiling as he pushes the hair out of your face. How does he look so pretty even after sex?

"You okay? Did I hurt you too much?" Yes. He hurt you a bit too much. But was it worth it? Oh, hell yeah.

You fucked a supermodel.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru x suguru #geto #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo jjk #satoru x you

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valleydoli · 2 months

Text

𐙚 jjk men nsfw twitter links 𐙚

𐙚 nanami kento

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

𐙚 fushiguro toji

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

𐙚 sukuna ryomēn

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

𐙚 getou suguru

one two three four five six seven ft gojo eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen

𐙚 gojo satoru

one ft geto two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen

𐙚 kamo choso

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen

𐙚 enjoy! 𐙚

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arminii · 2 months

Text

Being obsessed with sucking your boyfriend’s fat cock. Always tugging down his pants with an innocent smile as he whines softly, either having to go to school, work, or just out with friends.

You don’t give him a chance to protest as you take him down your throat. His mouth falling open in a choked moan of surprise when your lips clamp down. Sucking at his tip harshly before trailing your hot tongue along his veins, not stopping till his length was nestled fully in your mouth.

Your arms wrap around his waist tight, keeping him in place as he mewled in between short whimpers. Cock throbbing when your eyes meet his, batting your lashes sweetly before using a hand to squeeze at his heavy balls.

His noises turn short and silent, eyes rolling back with tensed abs as his hands rested on your shoulders. Letting out a shaky breath when you pull him closer, your skilled mouth making work of his massive cock.

It’s not long till he’s cumming with a loud moan, body jerking as a short string of ‘baby’s falls past his lips. His cum spilling down your throat with a groan.

You smile, swallowing down his cum before kissing lightly at his tip. Noticing that he was not done yet with a giggle. Your smaller hand wraps around his cock, pumping your fist until he’s spurting thick ropes onto your lips and face. Inevitably being made late to wherever he had to go.

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tonycries · 1 month

Text

Dirty Lil’ Secrets!

Synopsis. They all have their habits in bed - some so filthy you can’t help but keep them your dirty little secret.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, size differences, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), vibrators, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Choso’s side), praise, degradation, exhibitionism, fíngering, semi-public, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. This came to me while watching Pink Panther, I think I should watch Pink Panther more often.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Take it or he makes you

Now, Toji knows he’s got a big dick - huge, even. And to him it doesn’t make a difference - either you take his fat cock like the good lil’ slut you are, or he shoves it in your snug cunt and watches you gasp so deliciously around him, eyes watering, swollen lips dropping into a pretty little oh!

“Ah- hngh daddy s’too big. I don’t think-”

“You will, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, leaning down till his breath is hot against your ear. “Because I’ll make it fit.”

Okay, maybe he lied - maybe it really does make a difference. Because right now, with you already so cockdrunk as he bullied his furiously leaking tip into your sloppy hole - Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder.

“Are- are you at least hngh- halfway in, daddy?” he hears you whimper. Cock twitching so animalistically inside you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation.

Toji can’t help but huff out a laugh, brows furrowed, greedy gaze stuck on the obscene way your pretty lips struggle to take him in. Pussy spread open so shamefully for him, quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below.

“Nope.” he hums, popping the p, reaching down to lick a long, languid stripe up the delicate tear streaming down your cheek.

God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge his throbbing cock into you till his heavy balls smack your ass. But no - not yet. What’s the fun if he can’t see you struggle a bit more?

Instead pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Each one has his prominent veins pulsing angrily against your walls, hitting that one spot just right. A maddening bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to.

Stretching you to your limits. You could almost feel his achingly hard tip hitting your cervix already.

Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in.

Feral grunts leave him at the way you moan breathlessly at each motion, scrambling to grab onto the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to ground you to your sanity as you’re split apart on his achingly hard cock.

Ah, how he loved this little song and dance. A few tears, a few whines - his lil’ slut pretending like you couldn’t take it all - as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. He loves your cute lil’ mewls when you can’t decide between wanting to run away or milk the soul out of him.

“Now now,” Toji tuts, looping two muscled arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising.

You let out a delirious squeal as he pulls you down down down - onto his thick cock. Plush walls taking him in greedily inch by fucking inch. Hungry for more.

He knew his pretty girl could do it - you always do.

“Don’t think you can run away from me, doll.” he groans over your pathetic little yelps of “Ah! Too- too big, daddy! Gonna break-”

“Then break f’me.”

And with that, Toji’s had enough of playing nice - ramming in the rest of his length in one, harsh thrust. Not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt.

A low hiss leaves him as his abs rub your skin, twitching balls finally smacking against your ass. Finally taking all of him.

Finally bottoming out. Ah, this is what he’s wanted for s’long - teasing himself just as much as you.

“Oh! Oh my- ah, fuck. Want it- need it s’bad. Please- ngh-” you mewl, hips bucking wildly. Too cock-drunk on the way the tufts hair at his toned pelvis scratch against your throbbing clit to even form proper sentences. God, you think you could almost cum just from the feeling of being so overwhelmingly full of him.

“Feel me in you, pretty girl?” he rumbles, low and dangerous. “Feel me right…” he trails a long finger in between the valley of your breasts. Featherlight touch dancing down, down, down to your navel, pressing hard onto your stomach, “...there.”

You gasp at the pressure, breath catching in your throat at the dangerous smirk curling his lips as he begins to pull out inch by inch - agonizingly slow. Getting ready to fucking ruin you. Because boy does it stroke his ego to see you absolutely wrecked by his huge cock, struggling to just take him - but this is where the real fun starts.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The family man

Nanami’s a very steady man - he always has been.

A steady job, a steady schedule, a steady relationship with you. So, really, it makes sense that he wants a kid, or two - or four with the ways he’s got you folded in half beneath him. Legs thrown over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down-

A mating press. Nanami Kento had you in a fucking mating press.

And it was very dangerously quickly becoming his favorite thing.

You weren’t sure what to expect with that off-hand comment about wanting kids, but it surely wasn’t for your loving husband to fucking rip your skirt off and bend you over the nearest flat surface, throbbing cock now buried in your dripping pussy.

That was a few days ago.

And now every night without fail, you have Nanami’s seed dripping down your legs, still-achingly hard erection buried in your poor cunt - you doubt you’ll make it out alive this time.

“K-Kento- Hah- hngh, I feel s’full- so-”

“Shhh, darling. One more. Jus’ one more, all you gotta do is take every drop.” he hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Brows furrowed, sweat trickling down his temple, cock ramming into you at such a filthy pace.

Warm - so warm with his seed. It jolted some carnal part of him - all the way down to his achingly hard cock - to know that he was the one doing this to you. That was his cum filling your pretty pussy. And everyone else would know.

God, you can do nothing but sit there and take it as Nanami edges you closer and closer to your nth orgasm tonight. Thumb drawing rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit that match the merciless pace of his hips.

Over and over. A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.

Desperate, so desperate to get you off.

“Gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with need, mind hazy. “Gonna be so round and pretty with my kid, right, darling?”

You nod eagerly, as he increases his pace impossibly. Your skin stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your kiss-bitten lips each time his hips hit yours.

Drool drips delicately down the corner of your mouth at how animalistically he was fucking you. None of that familiar tenderness - only the pure, filthy desire to breed your pretty lil’ cunt full. All his.

“You can dress ‘em up, and I’ll take ‘em to school.” he rambles, as half-delirious as you at this point. Drunk off of you and your cunt and you. “And when we’re all alone…” he trails off dangerously. Ripping his gaze from the creamy, white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “I’ll fuck another one into you.”

“Ah! Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.”

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was Nanami painting your plushy walls with his seed, you can’t even tell at this point, too exhausted and cock-drunk. All you can feel is Nanami twitching inside you before he’s shooting thick hot spurts of his cum. Again. And again.

“Oh- Kento, t’much. There’s so much.” you moan softly, words slurring together. Sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so deliciously overfilled as Nanami’s cum trickles out of you, forming a wet, sinful pool on the sheets below.

“Feel it inside you, darling?” he doesn’t stop thrusting - rough, mindless movements from some deep-rooted, primal little part of him. Stuffing you deeper and deeper with his cum. Fully intent on filling you up until he was shooting blanks - or until he physically couldn’t. Whichever comes last.

Fucked-out little yelps leave you with wreckless abandon, mixing with the creaking of the bed at Nanami starts up yet another unforgiving pace, “Yes- Ah! I feel it, Kento. Feel it s’deep inside me.” “Mhm?” he purrs, teeth grazing your earlobe. Darkened eyes glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cum gushes out of you. Seeping into your skin, smearing on his abs - and his rock-hard cock. “Then, better be ready for one more, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The sweet-talker

If someone saw the ever-graceful Geto Suguru right now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes - and definitely not their ears. Such beautiful words coming out of such a beautiful mouth, but his actions were anything but.

And it doesn’t even matter the place, he’ll come up right beside you and whisper a few seemingly harmless words. “I really love that skirt on you, angel. Is this the one I bought?” he’d say to you at the convenience store, smiling sweetly at the old woman in front of him that sighs about “young love.”

Little did anyone know that right at that moment, the innocent hand in his pocket fiddles with that little plastic remote. The one he bought specifically to make you lose your sanity.

Intensity setting 2.

“B-baby?” you whimper, breath hitching as you feel the bullet vibrator shoved inside your dripping cunt start to turn up a notch - tiny, methodical vibrations against your snug walls.

“Yes, my angel?”

You could almost smack the innocent grin off his devastatingly handsome face. Geto Suguru could win an Oscar for how good he was at acting like he didn’t have a firm grip on your vibrator control. Thumb running harsh, quick little circles on the intensity.

“Nothing.” you grit your teeth, nails digging into his sculpted arm as you hold onto him for support. The little bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt maddening against your cunt. Praying that no one else here could see your dazed eyes and the way your thighs were quivering desperately. God, could this queue get any longer?

You almost miss the wrinkled hand waving in front of your face, the good-natured voice in front of you asking, “You alright, dearie? You look a bit under the weather.”

Intensity setting 3.

“I-I’m-” you choke, looking up at Geto for support. In perhaps a miraculous act of kindness, he peers down gently at the old lady. “Don’t worry, grandma. My love here has just been a bit sick today. M’taking her to the doctor after this, y’know. Isn’t that right, angel?”

Intensity setting 4.

Oh, not an act of kindness. Definitely not.

Panties completely soaked now, pussy clenching desperately around the vibrator. You shoot a quick glare at Geto, who was urging you deceivingly lovingly to answer. God, you could almost hear the laughter inside his mind as you take a steadying breath, stuttering out a barely audible, “Y-yeah. Sick today.”

You couldn’t care less if the sigh of relief you let out is audible to everyone else in the store as the elderly woman turns away with a nod. Mind focused only on Geto and Intensity setting 4 and Geto-

“Aww, what’s wrong, angel? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” you hear that familiar faux concern from above you. “Which asshole do I need to beat up?”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt

Gritting your teeth in order to not snap or just outright demand that Geto makes you cum right here, right now. Instead, managing out an unsteady little, “Turn it down.”

“What was that, angel?”

“Turn it down, I swear to-”

You’re cut off by hot breath against your ear, Geto’s voice hoarse with desire as he mutters, “Then cum. Right here.”

And as if to prove his point, he deftly runs his fingers along the intensity control once more, rubbing maddening little circles along it. Edging your climax and your sanity like the sadistic bastard he was.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt

And you could tell by the faint smirk curling his lips that he was taunting you - torturing you to just break or break him. Whichever comes first.

Thighs trembling, knees weak, you shiver as you finally reach the counter, Geto’s thumb now firmly set on Intensity setting 4 as he speaks casually with the cashier. How dare he talk about the weather when you were reaching a breaking point here?

Tears prick at your eyes - both at the pure overstimulation and the frustration of not being able to fucking cum. No matter how much you wanted to.

“Angel, you don’t look too well. Want to sit down?”

You clench your jaw, trying to maintain some level of composure as Geto pays for your items. Every second feels like an eternity, every nerve ending screaming for release.

You muster a weak nod even as you can feel your thighs quivering, blood roaring in your ears - you refuse to let him win. At least this time.

“C’mon now, let’s get you home and rested.” By the time Geto steers you to the exit, you’re practically begging for relief. His arm hot around your waist, your vision blurring at the edges. You’ve only made one step outside when-

Intensity setting 5.

You cum with a strangled yelp. Nails digging into Geto’s forearm hard - part in surprise and part revenge for all of that. His strong arm being the only thing grounding you - and the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the fucking ground.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and for a brief moment, all you can do is breathe, your eyes fluttering closed as your body shudders at the shockwaves of electricity. God, you almost think you see the pearly gates of heaven at the sheer intensity of your pleasure.

When you crack open your eyes again, you find Geto staring at you. Ah, an angel.

“Well, you should be thankful I went easy on you this time.”

Nevermind, it’s the devil incarnate. Geto leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Hope you’re not feeling too ‘under the weather’, angel. Because I’ve got a plan in mind and we’re going to be doing something much more fun than going to the doctor."

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marked up and all his

Choso knew you were hot - it only bothered him that everyone else did too.

Which is probably why you’ll often find him all but dragging you into the nearest bathroom at whatever party. Barely even locking the door before he’s got you pressed against the cold counter, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds.

“Choso, baby~” you whine softly from where his furiously flushed head was kissing your dripping cunt, barely audible over the loud thumping of the music from the other side of the door. “More, deeper.”

And, well, whatever his sweetheart wants - she will get. Because he immediately presses in, plunging inch by fucking inch into your sloppy heaven. Veins dragging so maddeningly across your walls as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.

“This what you want? To be split apart on my cock, sweetheart?” He groans into the crook of your neck, your sweet moans going straight to his aching cock. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, he nibbles lightly - all part of his plan.

“Hah- Hngh, yes baby. Jus’ like that.” Enveloping himself in your warmth, thrusting in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Not even wanting to get himself off - just wanting, needing to feel your pretty pussy around his cock. To prove to himself that you were his.

But it wasn’t enough.

Mouth still relentlessly marking and biting your skin, Choso guides your legs to wrap around his toned waist - a signal to pull, to use him to your heart’s content.

“Fuck, Choso- Fucking me s’good.” Your legs tighten around him, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s all Choso ever wants.

One hand deftly snakes it’s way down to your throbbing clit, rolling his thumb along the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more-

And the other - ah, yes, he can’t forget why he’s here - neat fingernails digging deep into your skin. Leaving pretty crescents in their wake - just below where your tight lil’ party dress hiked up. To show all those losers on the dance floor who you belong to.

Dragging. Marking.

His mouth leaves their place from your neck to whisper against your lips, darkened eyes boring into yours, “You’re mine, y’know that?”

You can do nothing but nod breathlessly into the heady air, hips bucking wildly underneath him as he increases his pace. Keening deliriously at the bruising grip on your hips and the even harder one on your poor cunt.

“Mine. All mine.” he grits out, twitching balls smacking your ass, rock-hard cock dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Those losers can’t fuck you the way I do, sweetheart.”

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity running down your spine - and your nails raking down Choso’s. Red-hot patterns in their wake - and that’s exactly what sends him over the edge. “Ah- Shit shit shit, yes mark me till m’bloody yes-”

And maybe you do, because his throbbing cock twitches deeply in your pussy. Thrusting once, twice before he pumps thick, hot ropes into your fluttering walls. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name.

Two arms kneading your ass - wrapping bruisingly around your waist - touching any and every inch of skin he could reach. Leaving pretty little marks for days.

You can feel such a sinful, sticky mixture of his slick and your cum trailing down your legs as he fucks you both through your highs. Pooling at the cold counter, stomach now uncomfortably hot, vision blurry - yet you still manage to make out the satisfied grin on Choso’s face.

Pure pride shining in his eyes as he takes in your fucked-out state, marks blossoming along your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves.

Ah, success.

But he’s barely had time to bask in his victory till you murmur out a quick “Hold on.” Pulling him firmly by the collar of his t-shirt. Lips firmly slotting over the sensitive skin peaking out.

Choso’s breath hitches as you bite and tease the skin - a pathetic little imitation of the absolute wreck he’d havoced on your skin - not pulling away until you’re satisfied with the dark, red mark blossoming on his milky skin.

“There. Perfect.” you flash an almost-innocent grin at him. And despite all that transpired in this heady bathroom, this is what makes his knees weaken so desperately. Oh, how he loved being yours.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The show-off

If the King of Curses owns something nice and pretty, then you can bet he’s going to show it off to everyone and anyone that crosses him. It doesn’t matter if it’s human trash or some lowly curse he’s just about to kill, all of them have the same last sight - you.

You, sat so prettily on the hulking king’s lap. All doe-eyed and batting your lashes so innocently at him as he wielded chaos on his throne.

It made them almost want to save you from this monster, only to realize - if Sukuna was feeling particularly generous that day - that he was the last thing that you needed saving from.

Because if by some miracle, Sukuna was feeling generous - and decided that those scum that bow beneath him should see something pretty before they die - then they see you. Legs spread so shamefully on his lap, large arms the width of your head keeping them open for your guests.

Sukuna trails his rough fingers dangerously down your robe - one that does absolutely nothing to hide your curves or the heaving of your chest. Thin fabric tearing easily under his sharp fingernails, exposing such tantalizing flashes of skin as whoever’s watching gulps heavily in both fear and anticipation.

He doesn’t stop till your robe is all but hanging off you now, dripping cunt soaking the tattered fabric as you keen desperately into his touch.

“Shhh, my lil’ slut.” he murmurs, low and gravelly into your ear, hot breath sending jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. “Wouldn’t want to be rude in front of our guests, hm?”

Whoever’s bowing before you two don’t know what makes shivers run down their spine more - Sukuna’s dangerous words or the way you whine desperately. “But Sukuna~” grinding onto his very obvious erection as you do, “Wan’ you so badly, haven’t been filled by you today.”

Shit, scratch that. The scariest thing here was the deep chuckle that echoes across the throne room - the King of Curses laughing. Laughing.

They watch in horror - unable to rip their eyes away - as he snakes down two large fingers to your dripping cunt, spreading open your swollen folds. Absolutely delighting in the way you flutter around nothing - his lil’ slut, so desperate for him.

You buck readily into his hold as Sukuna bullies two large fingers into your snug cunt. Ready walls clenching down so sinfully at finally getting some of the friction you’d been aching for all day.

“Ohh, yes. Sukuna, finally. Wanted you in me s’bad.” you squeal as he curls his fingers deftly inside you, expertly grazing that familiar spot he knew would have you falling apart in a matter of a few seconds.

“So spoiled.” Sukuna hums, a sly grin curling his lips - and the scum bowing before him completely forgotten - as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole. Thrusting in rough, jerky little movements that no matter how filthy and unrefined they seem - hold a dangerous, calculated intent as he hits that spot over and over.

The ones before you find their cocks hardening traitorously at your breathy whines and the lewd squelching sounds. Torn between training their eyes on the ground and greedily watching your thighs quiver on the monster’s lap, cunt dripping so obscenely onto his robe.

“Look at her.” a sharp order jolts them out of their reverie. Sukuna didn’t have to ask, he knew you were a heavenly vision in his little hell. Yet, he continues anyway, amusement spiking at the way they can do nothing but gape at what they can never have “Look. So desperate f’me. Should I make her cum?”

“Nooo, Sukuna don’ be mean~” you whine half-deliriously at the silence that follows. Voice strangled at the merciless pace Sukuna had on your cunt, rolling your swollen clit on his fingers, dipping in and out in and out in and-

Sukuna chuckles darkly in your ear, over the protests of the trash at his feet, “Seems like they don’t want you to cum.” He increases his pace ruthlessly, over and over. Hitting that spot with reckless abandon, delighting in the way you writhe and convulse on his lap. “But s’alright, I’ll be the one to make you cum. Your king, hm?”

And make you cum he does. Adding three fingers into your tight cunt now, thrusting in and out at a pace that has you bowing into his hulking body. Over and over. Hurried. Hasty. Almost torturous for those watching.

“Ah! Yes yes yes, Sukuna~ M’gonna-” you can barely finish the sentence before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, broken moans of Sukuna’s name leaving your swollen lips. He doesn’t stop - not when your orgasm is mere tingles, your voice too raw to even let out fucked-out moans. Not even when you’re quivering and fidgeting on his laps. Not even when he leans down to mutter in your ear, voice husky with pure need, “Now, how should I kill these fuckers off?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Just a lil’ taste

The great Gojo Satoru loves all things sweet, and that includes you. Not just you, but your pretty lips, your sweet cunt, and the sweetest - something else he’d never admit to anyone but you - the taste of him in you.

And right now - bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt, his heavy balls smacking your ass over and over as he rams into you hard, fast - Gojo knows there’s something for him to look forward to.

The bed creaks in protest as he chases the heavenly feeling of your tight pussy around him, mixing with the filthy moans leaving your mouth.

He was probably going to get another noise complaint - good, let them nosy fuckers know how good he makes you feel.

“Ah! Hah- hngh, Toru filling me up s’good.” you mewl and buck your hips underneath him for more more more- wanting, needing the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. His glistening veins dragging along that one spot so deliciously, pulsing against your tight walls at an urgent, incessant rhythm.

“Oh yeah?” he grunts. Cock pushing into you deeper and deeper, cervix kissing your tip so painfully good. “Like this? Like it when I fuck you like this? Can’t get enough of it, hm?”

Because of course, Gojo Satoru can’t stop running his mouth even when he’s fucking you relentlessly. Even when his thrusts grow frenzied, sloppy with desire. And especially not when you’re creaming on his achingly hard cock.

God, you’re so fucking perfect he can’t help but lose himself in the heat of the moment as well.

Body arching off the bed, you see stars behind your eyes as Gojo cums in thick, hot spurts inside your fluttering walls. “Shit, oh Toru, s’full inside me hah-”

You think you probably cum harder just at the sight before you.

Gojo’s head thrown back, blue eyes prettily rolling to the back of his head as he bites his lips in concentration - desperately trying to fight off that feral, animalistic part of himself that just wants to fuck his cum deeper and deeper inside your dripping cunt. Wrestling that urge to breed you full to the back of his mind.

No, because he’s got bigger things in mind.

Bigger things that include urgently dropping to his knees as soon as your breathless moans bate. He wrestles your hips on the mattress, grip bruising on your waist as he pulls your pretty cunt closer. All wet and painted white with his cum, dripping so obscenely onto the fresh sheets below.

Mouth dropping into a soft oh! at the sinful sight before him, Gojo doesn’t waste a second before surging forward.

Nose-deep in your pussy, he doesn’t stop till he’s nose-deep and breathing you in so obscenely. Tongue bullying its way in between your swollen folds, dipping into your sloppy entrance in and out in and out in and out-

He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you.

Sweet.

The absolutely filthy mixture of his cum and your slick sliding down his tongue as he laps up your juices with the desperation of a madman. God, it makes the blood rush straight to his dick at the way your mouth drops open in disbelief - he never does get used to it.

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

“Mmm, s’sweet on my tongue, baby.” he slurs, drunk off the absolutely intoxicating taste of your sin. “Fuck- Can’t get enough of it. Shit.”

You flinch as he swears into your throbbing cunt. Seeing flashes of white behind your eyes each time he flicks his tongue just right to graze over all your most sensitive spots. You could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.

And you probably do really cry when Gojo moves up your dripping pussy, sucking on your swollen clit. Rolling his tongue over and over at the same maddening pace of the tears down your cheeks.

Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s done with his little feast - and moving on to torture you full time now.

Gojo huffs out a laugh into your cunt, popping off your abused clit with a lewd pop! Hands snaking down to grab his rock-hard base. Pulling in short, desperate little tugs to get himself ready for what was to come. “Yeah, m’done, baby.” he chuckles darkly. Shit, did you say that out loud?

But you have no time to wonder too long about that, instead stuck on that dangerous little glint in his eyes as he stands from his position nose-deep in your cunt. Swiping his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you.

Dazed, your eyes drift from his slick-glossed mouth down, down, down to-

Oh.

“Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna be feasting again real soon.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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torubeth · 1 month

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things you do that makes him go crazy (mature content! 18+)

just finished a spicy book and idk what came over me, suddenly wrote this w a high ass adrenaline. and yes it’s not proofread :p

gojo satoru maintaining eye contact with him while making out drives this man to the brink of salvation. he goes insane because of it. your arms locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as you press your lips to his. ‘if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re asking for more knowing i wouldn’t deny it sweet girl’

geto suguru ride! his! abs! he loves to watch you fall apart just by riding his abs. the sounds and sighs that leave your lips, your eyes hazy and filled with adoration just for him, your fingers aching to hold onto something, preferably his hands. ‘just like that angel girl- just like that. move those hips for me yeah?’

nanami kento *sensitive neck alert!* don’t say i didn’t warn you. the second he walks in through the main door, you’re ready to pounce on the man. your hands immediately tug at his tie, pulling him close enough to place heated kisses against his neck which has him melting and moaning. ‘fuck baby, been needing this all day..’

toji fushiguro acting like a brat pisses him off yet has his dick reaching for the sky. we all know the man loves to be in control and that’s the finishing line. but you decide to go and act all high and mighty? he wasn’t having it, although he must admit, it was cute. ‘okay princess fun times done, now start behaving and bend over f’me’ his hands reach down to give your ass a little squeeze.

#bro i need sleep but she hates me #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #geto smut #gojo x reader smut #toji x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #toji x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 10 hours

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I wanna write a JJK Men: Fic where they find the readers weird turn on? Does that make sense? ((Like they rub their chin over their shoulder)) and they let out an obscene moan in front of everyone. They’re taken aback by it, but keep doing it, and doing it until they literally orgasm. Leading to smutty smut

Can y’all send me some suggestion for strange turn on’s. Leave a comment, send an ask and I’ll pick a some!! 😈💚

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angelxcz · 2 months

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Gojo holding your legs bent up against your chest so his best friend could eat you out. Stopping your body from writhing at the overstimulation of Geto sucking on your clit, hot tongue lapping up your folds before curling his fingers into you.

Your mind was cloudy, eyes pooled with tears when Geto bit lightly at the throbbing bud, chin glistening with your slick when his face emerged from between your legs. “Hold her better f’ me Satoru.” He breathed, hard cock straining in his sweats as Gojo nodded with a smirk.

Your boyfriend sat you on his lap, his arms hooked under your knees to hold you against his chest. Your head falling back in loud whiny cries as Geto dove back in, sloppily making out with your pussy until you were shaking for him. Dumb babbles of his name falling past your lips as you tried to shut your legs. Gojo’s tight grip holding you still.

Gojo kissed down your neck with sweet words of praise. Nibbling softly at the delicate skin as he watched you squirt messily on his best friend’s tongue. Your eyes rolling back with the curl of your toes as you drenched the dark haired man’s face.

He was so hard. Watching Geto devour your pretty pussy was doing things to him, grinding his hardened bulge into your ass before snaking his arms around your waist. Large hands squeezing at your tits as he nodded to Geto. “Suguru’s gonna fill you up now okay baby?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #[♱. smut]#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut

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nezuscribe · 4 months

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(nsfw, 18+)

gojo hates the fact that you go on dates.

he despises it whenever you bring another guy over, wants to jam a pencil into his ears whenever he hears you moan (horribly) when the guy fails to make you come.

but he loves it whenever you come sulking back to him.

“mmh, f-fuck, ‘toru slow down!” you cry around his fat cock, your fingers digging into his shoulder has your legs lock around his waist.

“you know you love it,” he seethes, his hair flipping into his face as sweat dots at his forehead. you look gorgeous like this; the makeup you so carefully did earlier smudged and running down your face as tears streak down your cheeks.

“y-yeah, but…” you trail off into a loud whine when he drops his hand down to rub at your clit, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling.

“but what?” he presses, dropping his face down to suck at your neck and chest, leaving behind dark marks in their wake, knowing anybody who saw you would see them.

“you’re usually, fuck, you’re usually not this…” you think about the right word in the midst of his relentless pounding, biting in your lip as he pinches your nipple a between two fingers, tugging at it harshly as you cry out again, “a-aggressive.”

the grin he gives you is toothy, eyes blazing a dark blue as he pulls at your bottom lip, nipping at it as his dick prods at the gummy spot deep within you.

“just need to give you a reminder sweetheart.” he says, nudging at your jaw as you tilt your head towards, giving him room to plant wet and messy kisses on your neck. his hips pick up pace as he feels you clenching more around him, the dim light from his lamp highlighting the way your essence shines around his length, mixing with his pre.

“need a, f-fuck! need a reminder for what?” you pout, your eyes so sweet yet your body so fucking tempting as you pull him closer to you, your nails digging into his back, sure to leave some red lines.

“that, shit,” he takes in a deep breath, his eyes rolling back as he feels himself about to come, “that nobody can fuck you the way i do.”

his thumb on your clit moved faster as your whines and moans fill with his groans, your back arching, tits pressing into his chest as you feel him come inside you, your orgasm following his as you see white. you feel like your about to pass out with the way he continue to pump his dick and and out of you, making sure that you don’t waste his cum.

he slows to a stop, dropping his massive build on top of you as you let him.

“see?” he says after a beat, and despite the fact that he’s cocky and too full of himself, he’s right.

“yeah,” you heave a sigh, giving up as you tug on some of his hairs in annoyance, “you’re my best fuck by far.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo x you smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #gojo smut #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut #jjk smut #gojo drabble #jujutsu Kaisen

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gojonanami · 4 months

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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞

✧ pairing: rich boy! gojo x bodyguard! reader

✧ summary: after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is around the same age as gojo (both in their 20s but age is vague), virgin! gojo, switch! gojo, oral (f + m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), depictions of violence, mentions of yakuza, dirty business dealings, gojo's made up dad and suguru make an appearance

✧ wc: 15,311 (i don't know what to say at this point)

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 1 has been sold to @forest-hashira and two anons!

“So, is this your first time?”

Satoru Gojo would be the end of you — one way or another.

One way would be you sacrificing your life to protect him — fairly run of the mill when it came to guarding someone, the risk of putting your life on the line, though the chance of death usually was fairly slim. You had only come close — twice.

You didn’t care to make it a third.

The other, increasingly more likely, way was that you would lose your mind to his incessant yammering before you even had a chance to neutralize any threat to his life.

You nearly spit out your drink at the question, wiping your mouth with a napkin, before managin to choke it down, “Excuse me?”

And his lips annoyingly curl, “Your first time guarding someone,”

The heir seemed fairly nonchalant, even after his father had sat the both of you down in a room filled with more security agents than the prime minister of Japan himself had, and had lectured him about the importance of staying with you the entire time and to respect your authority — well one out of two wasn’t bad. He’s eating a piece of cake instead of a meal, his fork digging into the back of the cake again and again, toying with his food as he did with you, “I mean, you seem fairly young, but old enough to be entrusted with my safety,”

“Well, since you insisted on going to school, your father needed someone unassuming who looked around your age,” you lean against your hand, your other drumming against the table, as your eyes scanned the area — table of frat boys, group of girls sneaking glances at Gojo, various other students, no real threats — unless you counted the girls’ death daggers towards you, “someone who wouldn’t look out of place with you, raise any suspicions, but who could still protect you,”

His lips curl, as your eyes find their way back to the young heir, “So basically, you had to look like my girlfriend — shouldn’t I hold your hand? Sell the act? All in the name of my safety,”

You jerk your head towards his group of admirers, “I think what we’re doing now is plenty — unless you’d like your guard to get mauled by a bunch of hormonal college girls,”

His eyes slid to his adoring fans, as he pities them with a wave, erupting squeals from them, “I think you could take them,”

“How flattering,” you reply drily, picking at the food in front of you, “now finish your lunch so we can get to our next class on time,”

“Are you still upset that we were late this morning?”

“No, I’m upset that we missed half the class and I had to take the fall for it,” the heir had oh so kindly told the professor that you had made them run late (even though he was the one who spent far too long in the bathroom).

And even though you wouldn’t be attending this school for long, you hoped that you wouldn’t have to make yourself look like a fool the entire time you were here — but — your eyes found Gojo’s again — sticking with Satoru Gojo almost made that a guarantee that you would look like a fool — one way or another.

And you were already the fool — for thinking that a college aged boy would have any real food in his refrigerator. Although, Satoru Gojo was a different breed — instead of alcohol and questionable containers of takeout, there was...sweets.

So. Many. Sweets.

Not just cookies and candy — but literally six different kinds of mochi (for some reason?) and almost any pastry you could possibly think of was stocked in the house. And the freezer was more of the same — seven different containers of ice cream and one aged bag of edamame stuck in the back.

“Gojo?” you stare into the open refrigerator, while Gojo lays back on his couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any food?”

“What do you mean? The refrigerator is full of food?” and his voice is thick with genuine confusion and you’re almost wondering how this man survived to this age.

Oh yeah, he’s rich.

You sigh, closing the refrigerator doors, and striding over to him, only to snatch his phone out of his hands, “Sweets are not real food — how do you eat like this and function?”

He only shrugs, lips curled into a grin, “I’m just built different,”

“You mean like a person who won’t make it to age fifty?” you toss his phone back at him, “get up,” you grab your sweatshirt hanging by the door and throw his jacket at him. He barely catches it, as he sits up, his face displeased with your sudden need to get him up.

“Where are we going?”

“So,” Gojo says, his hands in his pockets, as you both walk the aisles of the grocery store, “why did I have to come with you?”

“Because I’m going to show you how to actually shop for groceries, so you don’t have a heart attack and die before my stint with you is up,” you grab essentials and basics — oil, rice, cereal, pasta, spices, flour, sugar (although did he really need sugar with the amount he was already consuming?), “you know it would suck if my client died before we eliminated the other threats on his life,” before you add with a smile, “though I think your eating habits are more likely to kill you,”

“You know men really hate sarcastic women,” he bites back, before something catches his eye in the aisle and he places it in the cart, “major turn off,”

“Well, mission accomplished then,” you roll your eyes, as you look back at the cart to see a box of cookies, “you know when I said you were a moron, I was half kidding, but now,” you lift up the box of cookies, “you have a million cookies at home,”

He pouts — why do you feel like a mother refusing their child their candy at checkout? — “Not these ones,” you take the box and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, and he relents.

“Did you eat like this before college?”

He shook his head, “My meals were prepared for me by the chef at my home, I never really had much of a say in what I ate, or anything really,” and you shake your head, “my father wasn’t really the type to let me handle anything on my own — thus the need for a babysitter,”

You nod, “So no one really taught you how to take care of yourself?” and he shakes his head.

“Guess not, but I guess no time like the present to learn,” he examines the box of baking powder you had just placed in the cart, “like what this is,” and you snort, taking the box from him and placing it back in the cart.

“Maybe by the end of this trip, we’ll have you making it past the age of forty,”

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said fifty?”

“The cookies made me lose more faith in you,”

The two of you continue to shop, as you help him pick out vegetables, meat, and other necessities for the house. You separate the things for you and for him meticulously, as the two of you head over to the checkout, and he’s placing everything on the conveyor belt together, including your own things, “No wait, those are mine—”

“Consider it payment,” he stops you, as you continue to try to argue, but he’s only blocking you from the conveyor belt with a raised arm, a real smile on his lips, “just let me do this for you,” And you can’t find any words, so your mouth shuts, and you nod — as you watch him speak with the older cashier with his patented charm.

And the cashier stops you right as you’re leaving, whispering, “That’s a good one, don’t let him go, ok?” and you pause, her words sinking in as blood rushes to your cheeks.

“We’re not—”

“I know,” the older woman chuckles far too knowingly, as she hands you the receipt, “but you never know.”

“You coming?” Gojo calls, turning to look back at you, as he pushes the cart of groceries, and you look from the cashier to him, before fleeing with a quick ‘thank you.’

And as you go home, you glance at Gojo, maybe there was more to him than you initially thought.

“This is so boooooring,” Gojo’s whining for, what you assume is, the billionth time, “I hate philosophy, moral arguments? It’s such bullshit,”

“You know philosophy is literally a subject that encompasses everything right?” you tilt your head watching him lay on the floor as the two of you sit at the table, his head right next to you, as you sit cross legged, “there’s no avoiding it in life,”

“Well can’t I avoid it in school at least? Because college feels very different from real life,” and you roll your eyes, flicking him between the eyes.

“Just write your paper, I already finished mine,” and he perks up.

And he slides his laptop over to you, “Then you can write mine,”

“That’s not happening,” and he groans again, “you know if you spent all the time that you whined working on your paper then you’d be done,”

“Were you this much of a buzzkill when you were in college?” Gojo stares at you, “what do you even do for fun?”

“Why is this relevant to you writing your paper?”

“Why is writing my paper relevant to protecting my life?” and you open and close your mouth, “c’mon give me something, anything,”

“How about this — when you finish a page, I’ll answer a question, any question,” you offer, and he grins, as he sits up and begins to type away at his laptop.

You sit back, lying back and using your phone, until about fifteen minutes later when he’s holding his laptop up, showing you that he completed a page, “That fast?” you’re skeptical, and then you grab his laptop, skimming the page, wondering if he was trying to trick you — he wasn’t. It was good, more than good — it was a wonderful discussion of deontological ethics.

“How did you finish this so fast?” you raise an eyebrow, “you complain so much, but you wrote this page far too quickly,”

He shrugs, “I’m good at everything, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “jealous?”

“Totally,” you scoff, before grinning, “so get back to work,” and he gapes at you, before groaning dramatically, lying back on the floor again.

“Ugh, this is too much work,” he whines again, “I don’t know why I had to take this stupid class,” he grumbles.

“Then why did you?” you scroll through your phone, checking for any new alerts or updates from his father or any other member of the security team, “you have a choice in what classes you sign up for, don’t you?”

And for one of the first times, you saw Satoru’s playfulness ebb away, replaced with almost a bitterness — as bitter as his words were usually sweet, “Maybe most college kids do, but I don’t have a choice in most of the things I do, including the classes I pick,”

You tilt your head, “Your father?” And he nods, “did you even choose your major?”

His eyes drift to the ceiling, “Is it a choice when your father tells you you’re either being groomed to run his company when you graduate or he’s not paying for you to go to school at all?”

“No, it isn’t,” you admit, “but it could be worse, he could have stuck you with a glorified babysitter on top of it,”

He cracks a smile, “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for babysitters,” and you roll your eyes, cracking a smile.

“Get back to work.”

“Fuck,” Satoru muttered, watching the rain come down as he waited outside the university awning of the building he had just finished his class in. You had left him to go to class by himself — you trusted him enough not to get murdered while in class and on the walk back (high praise) — and said you’d likely just meet him back at the apartment. But now, he didn’t know how he’d get home without getting soaked.

He checks his phone for any rideshares nearby, but there were none. And he would rather go drown in the rain than call his father’s driver, and guarantee a lecture about being prepared for “any given situation.”

Shit. Maybe he would just risk walking.

So he did. The rain soaked through his clothes all too quick, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, and the cold leeching the warmth from his body. And he couldn’t help but think if you were with him, you would have remembered to bring an umbrella.

Weird, when did he ever really rely on anyone else?

Yes, his father had maids, cooks, and personal shoppers when he was growing up — but they weren’t people he relied on — he did, but it was expected. It was their job. And yes, he was a job for you too — but…it was different.

Satoru didn’t know when it happened but he had gotten used to your presence in his life. Whether it was at home or in class, you were always there. And it wasn’t as annoying as he thought it would be. It was…nice to have someone there to lean on. But, as he glanced up at the storm clouds, holding a hand above his eyes — rolling dark clouds with no signs of the rain letting up — this would be his reality once the threats were a distant memory.

“Gojo!” He blinks, his eyes snapping forward, and he sees someone coming over the horizon.

It was you — umbrella in hand, as your footsteps echoed with the splashes of water from the rain that collected on the ground. And you found your way to him, holding the umbrella over his head. He stared at you as you grew closer, wondering if you were real. And he wasn’t surprised you found him —

“How did you know?” He asks when you stand, catching your breath, short pants, as your eyes flicker up to his.

“You always forget your umbrella, so I figured you needed one,” you shrugged, “plus I finished my meeting early so I came to get you,” and he only stares at you, “what?”

And he only shakes his head, as he takes the umbrella from your hand, fingers brushing, as he holds it up over the both of you, your shoulders brushing as you begin to walk home. And he found himself wishing for a split second that the threats would never stop.

“Just wondering if it’s in your job description to protect me from colds too,” and you snort, lips curling into the same smile he loved to see.

“With you? It is.”

“A party?”

“Yes, known as a gathering of people where—”

“I don’t need you to define the word,” you grit your teeth, as you watch him pull out shirts from his closet, holding them up, before shrugging, “do you know the kind of danger you could put yourself in by going?”

“I know, the party might go into a frenzy at the sight of me, think of all the students who’d glare at you then,” he grins, as he finally settles on an outfit — charcoal gray shirt and a blue button down, “might have to call another bodyguard to guard you instead, princess,”

“Aren’t you the princess if you’re the one being guarded?” you bite back, and he only laughs, hands in his pockets, “Gojo, you have serious threats that have been levied—”

“Against my father—”

“And you, the heir to your father’s company,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, “are you seriously going to risk our lives because you want to get drunk and fuck around with a bunch of idiots?”

The answer was yes, of course.

And now here you were, stuck babysitting this spoiled heir at a party. You hadn’t really been to any parties — hadn’t bothered to. You had gotten through college at a young age, perks of skipping a few grades, and you ended up in the family business regardless — so you didn’t bother to party much. Not when you had things to accomplish — babysitting a drunk heir wasn’t one of them.

It has started as you expected. Gojo had flitted away from your side the first moment he got, disappearing into the throng of horny and drunk college students. You wove your way through the crowd, careful not to trip over the students making out, dancing, or drinking on nearly any available surface. The smell of beer and cheap cologne wafted through this dorm. And you had almost given up on finding him when you spotted him stuck to the sides of three girls, all of them far too eager to hang off his every word.

You sighed, this was going to be a long night.

“You one of Satoru’s girlfriends?” you glance to your side and see Suguru Geto in person. You had learned all about Satoru Gojo and the people he hung around. Like those three girls — one of them had a long distance boyfriend, the other had a cheating situationship she was trying to make jealous, and the other just wanted to fuck him for the experience. Suguru Geto was one of the only friends of Gojo you had liked from what you had read about him — humble background, on scholarship at the college, but one of the best students here — and a philosophy student of all things, the very subject his best friend hated.

You want to say no, but unfortunately, you have no idea what the idiot has been saying to other people, “Something like that,” you sip at your drink to make the bitter words slide down, “why? Are you?”

A chuckle slips past his lips, as he takes a swig of his drink, “Well I already like you better than the others. You have a sense of humor and seemingly more than two brain cells,”

“Don’t give me too much credit,” you snorted, leaning against a wall, “I did end up here after all,”

“Fair enough, how’d he convince you to come?” And you shake your head — good question. What choice did you really have? You could have let him go alone, but probably not a good look

“I don’t even know honestly, feel like I’ve been dragged here to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” you glance at him and the gaggle of girls, “though maybe I already fucking failed at that,”

Geto shrugs, as his gaze slips from Gojo to you, “I mean until he sticks his tongue down one of their throats, I think you’re doing pretty well,”

You laugh, “Good to know,” and you both continue to chat, and unbeknowst to you, while your focus is torn away from Gojo, his attention is fully on you.

If looks could kill, Satoru imagined his crystal eyes were nothing more than daggers ready to strike, as he watches you and Suguru talk.

It was his fucking idea to come to this party, so why were you having more fun than he was?

He swirled his drink miserably — he had barely taken a sip of the beer poured for him — why would he when it tasted like piss? He didn’t understand why people liked to drink — especially when they could eat mochi instead — but now, as he stares at you and Suguru, maybe he was starting to understand.

He can’t hear what either of you are saying over the blaring music and the chatter of students surrounding him, but he can see the smile on your lips and the laugh that left them.

Why the fuck do you look so happy to talk to Suguru?

You seemed so bored when he was with you—and did you just fucking laugh again at something Suguru said?

The crinkle of plastic and the distinct feeling of a spill made his gaze snap to his hand — he just crushed his plastic drink cup. He sighed, as he simply placed it among the other abandoned drink cups on a nearby table, before wiping off his hand with a napkin.

Why did he even care? You were nothing but a nuisance anyway. All you did was follow him around, make him go to class on time, make sure he was safe, care about his well-being—

What the fuck was he thinking?

His eyes couldn’t help but slide back to you as he tried to enjoy the girls' company, their slight touches and soft pouts and sweet words not going unnoticed by him. But that was how it always was. Once people found out he was rich, people wanted to be his friend, they wanted to date him, they wanted him — but not really him, they wanted his money.

First world problems, right?

But you — you hadn’t been like that. You were irritatingly punctual, unfazed by his money, didn’t care in the slightest about his father or who he was — you just wanted to do your job. And he was your job, for the time being.

And now he got to see you smile — your lips perfectly curled in a smile that both he wanted to see all the time and grated on his nerves — but you were smiling at someone else. And Suguru no less.

“C’mon Satoru, you gonna make eyes at your boyfriend all night?” Aiko said, nudging him teasingly, her words far too slurred.

“Help us finish these shots,” Yumiko whines, as she offers him a shot, urging it into his hands.

He’s grimacing, he hates alcohol — he hates how he feels during and after; he hates the disgusting, metallic taste; and if it couldn’t get worse, he’s a lightweight. He stares at the shot.

“It’s just one shot,” Misaki grins, holding up her own, clinking hers to his, “you’re already three shots behind everyone else,”

And he’s about to open his mouth to refuse — make up an excuse of having to wake up early or stomach being unsettled — and that’s when you catch his attention. You were laughing now, a noise far too pretty for his liking, as you shoved Suguru’s chest playfully.

Fuck it.

He downs the shot, the liquid searing down his throat, dragging down until it settles in a burning pool in his stomach. Finally he tears his gaze away as the girls offer him another shot — as you grin at Suguru — this was going to be a long night.

“Hey,” Geto jerks his head, “you might want to deal with that,”

You whip your head around.

“Oh what the—“

Gojo was hanging all over the girls he was with, barely able to stand on his two feet, as he swayed from side to side — his cheeks glowed with the telltale glow that told everyone he had been drinking (if that wasn’t obvious by literally everything else).

Fuck.

You had kept an eye on him. You swore he had only taken two shots of alcohol, how was he this drunk already? You examine and sniff the two shot glasses he used — no peculiar smell or residue — you run through the gamut of tests you could do on hand and conclude two things: 1) Gojo wasn't drugged and 2) he was a lightweight.

But that didn’t stop him from acting like he wasn’t, as girls egged him on to take more shots, and from the way they were eyeing him, their intentions were anything but pure.

You sigh, walking over, slipping past a drunk couple making out, a person passed out and sleeping on the floor, and a cluster of cheering onlookers as a student chugged what you can only assume was a disgusting concoction of alcohol.

Until you finally reached his side.

“I think you’ve had enough, isn’t that right, Satoru?” And he’s blinking at you, before he’s grinning, slurring your name.

“You’re no fun,” and he’s clinging all over you, his hands curled around your waist, “such a buzzkill, don’t even like to have any fun with me,”

“Looks like you had too much fun without me,” you murmur, your arm slinks around the middle of his back, “let’s get you back to your dorm,”

“Hey he’s fine, he’s having fun with us,” Aiko glared at you, a hiccup leaving her lips, “don’t go crashing our good time because he’s not interested in you,”

“Yeah why don’t you go hang out with Geto or whatever? We’ll take good care of him. C’mon Toru, let’s go to my place in Shibuya, I have a huge house there,” Yumiko says, barely coherent, and you raise your eyebrows at the nickname, as she leans in to whisper, alcohol wafting off her breath, as she lifts up her middle finger, “fuck off,”

Honestly the only reason you can understand the gist of what she meant was because of her middle finger. Their other friend is passed out on the couch.

“I don’t think any of you can even care for yourselves,” you scoff, and Satoru is hanging all over you already, mumbling words you can’t make out in your ear, “I’m taking him home, you should take your friend home,”

“Geto, wanna help me out?” And Geto nods, trying to take Gojo other arm, but Gojo pushes him away, instead clinging to you, you stumble a moment before catching both of you, “Gojo—“

“No, wanna go home with just you,” he’s officially whining, and you’re having flashbacks to the summer you spent babysitting, but — you look at the drunk white porcupine clinging to you — somehow this idiot is worse than the kid.

You sigh, “Geto, make sure that girl gets home safe,” you gesture to the one passed out on the couch, “I’m going to deal with this one,”

Geto stares at the two of you, the far too tall Satoru hunched over onto your body, “Can you—“

But you’re already walking away, able to drag Gojo away with relative ease (it’d be far easier if he’d pull his own weight, but at least he was quiet).

That was, until you got outside. And then the whining began again.

“How can you treat me like this?” Gojo’s hands cling to your arm, his face buried in your shoulder, “you shouldn’t ignore the one you’re supposed to protect!” and he’s shaking his head like a petulant child, his bottom lip quivering.

“You’re the one who left my side, not the other way around,” you grumble, as he’s finally beginning to walk by himself but he’s still stuck to your side like an overgrown cactus, “you’re the one who wanted to go to this goddamn party,”

“Yeah but you’re the one who's supposed to protect me,” he pouts, as he stops right in front of his building, “I can’t do your job for you,” and he’s finally standing in front of you, his cheeks and nose still flushed from the alcohol, his hand still clutching at yours, “do you even know how to do your job?”

You grit your teeth. Would punching the person you’re hired to protect be a breach of contract? You rub your temples, it may come to that.

“You’re an idiot,” you jerk your hand away, shaking your head, “my job is to protect you, not to stop you from doing stupid college boy shit,”

He’s crossing his arms, “I could have been in danger — what if that alcohol was poisoned? I feel really sick,” he grips, holding his stomach with pursed lips, and you’re thoroughly unimpressed.

“I looked at it, it wasn’t poisoned,” you raise an eyebrow, before sighing, and shrugging your shoulder bag off your shoulders, rooting around in the pouch, “but if you want, I have something in my bag that will turn your stomach inside out and we’ll be sure to get the poison out,”

“Nooooo, no! I’m fine,” he’s shaking his head, his voice grows soft, “I just need to get to bed,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, but grab him by his wrist.

“Come on, we’re going inside,” and it’s a struggle to get to his apartment — more like a luxury penthouse — on the top floor, but somehow you get him inside and shepherd into his bedroom. And he’s shrugging off his button up before pulling off the shirt underneath.

Your gaze snaps away, cheeks burning, your eyes trying to erase the glimpse of his fucking unfairly chiseled physique — complete a surprisingly broad chest and shoulders — how the fuck was that hiding under his clothes? He looked like a stick normally with his clothes on.

“See something you like?” he’s snickering, as you hear the click of his belt and the and sounds of rustling — assuredly stepping out of his jeans.

“No, just not used to clients stripping for me,” you turn your back to him, as you hear the creak of the mattress and the crinkling of his comforter and sheets.

“Am I just a client to you?” his words were still mildly slurred, and you knew he’d be pouting if he had enough brain cells to do so, “you can turn around, I’m under the covers,” he adds with a grumble.

You turn and see him curled up under his blanket and you have to bite back your smile — now he most assuredly looked like one of the kids you used to babysit.

“Well what else am I supposed to see you as, Gojo?” you cross your arms, and he’s muttering under his breath, “what?”

“That’s just it. You don’t even call me by my first name,” he’s brooding, face twisted in a scowl, “I don’t have a lot of people I trust. Most people are just after my money or my looks,” he looks at you, “you’re different. Kinda weird,”

You quirk an eyebrow, “is that a good thing?”

“Well I trust you,” he admits, and you note the tips of his ears barely visible outside the comforter are red — is it still the flush from the alcohol? “I don’t really have many of those,”

And you’re taken aback — you thought you were nothing but a nuisance to this party obsessed prince, but maybe there was more to him than you thought. You toyed the ring on your finger, maybe you had more in common than you thought.

“Thank you, I’m glad you do, because you can, trust me that is,” you say softly, “good night, Satoru.”

And he does sleep after that, as you spend the night keeping watch, half to ensure his safety and the other to make sure he slept on his side in case he threw up

(and he did, twice).

“I need to talk to you,” Suguru Geto barely looked up from his phone when he saw Satoru in front of him, his best friend looking more irritable than usual — his usually bored affect seemed to be on holiday, “Suguru?”

“I heard you the first time, what is it?” and Satoru snatches the phone from Suguru’s hands, “what the fuck—“

“What were you doing last night?” and Suguru tilts his head, before rubbing his temple.

“Give me my fucking phone—“

“What did you talk to her about?” And Suguru stares at him, his brow furrowed, smart mouth ready with a reply about a stint in a spa or a retreat was needed before his lips curl.

“Oh. Her,” and he’s leaning back, a lazy shrug, “this and that,”

“Cut the shit, Suguru, do you like her or not? Did you get her number?” And Satoru is trying to unlock Suguru’s phone, as Suguru watches with a tilt of his head and a wry grin on his lips, “huh? what is it?”

“So you like her, that much is clear,” and he’s crossing his arms, “I assume you didn’t tell her or you wouldn’t have come in swinging and stealing?”

Satoru stares at him, slack jawed and cheeks turning a deep pink that only carnations could rival, “No! She’s just a…friend of the family, and she’s not supposed to be with—“

“She told me she liked you,” his heart catches, mouth falling open, before Suguru’s lips curl, “well, she said that she was one of the many, rather,”

Satoru’s cheeks burn, “It’s not like that, she barely even fucking looks at me. Can you believe that? Me?” and he gestures up and down his body.

“I see your ego is still intact,” Suguru scoffs, shaking his head, before leaning back on his palms, “just tell her how you feel, Satoru, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I have no idea how she feels and it’s all your fault!” And Suguru raises an eyebrow, “you charmed her and I’m sure you’re the only one she’s thinking about now,” he covers his face, “and after what I said to her last night…” he couldn’t believe he admitted that you were the one of the only ones he trusted. And he called you weird.

He honestly didn’t know what was worse.

“What did you even say?”

“Say to who?” and Satoru turns, finding you standing behind him, arms crossed.

And Satoru cuts Suguru off before he can say a thing, “Not important. What are you doing here—“ you grab him by the wrist, a wave of heat makes his nearly burn red as you begin to drag him away, “what are you—“

“Bye Geto,” you say, waving at the raven haired student, before taking Geto’s phone and tossing it back to him, “I’m taking the idiot—“

“HUH?”

“Good luck. He might need to be fed — he’s in a mood,” and he waves back, same smile on his lips.

“What did you two do, adopt me?” Satoru grumbles as you pull him away, “where the hell are you dragging me? How did you even find me?”

“The post hangover suits you well, we have to get to class, and I placed a tracker on you,” and he’s jerking his hand away, staring at you, “I have to be able to find you, don’t I?”

“Where?”

You tilt your head, “Why would I tell you? Don’t worry about, I’ll remove it after we’re done here,”

You weren’t going to budge on this — and if he argued more, you would take it up with his father. And he would like to avoid that as much as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, , “I’m tired, can’t you just go and take notes for me?”

“I thought you’d be more concerned about the threats against your life, instead of sending your bodyguard off to your class for you” you hiss, and he’s pouting again, unable to meet your gaze, “what’s your problem, Satoru?”

And he pauses, the retort on lips dying as his brain looped in an infinite spiral of his name on your lips, “You called me ‘Satoru,’”

You tilt your head, “you told me to last night,” and then you add with a wicked grin, “remember? When you said I was one of the only people you trusted,” you tease, but he’s too busy hearing his name repeat in his head again and again, “Satoru—“

“Better be careful, sweetheart,” his lips curl into that annoyingly charming smile, “keep calling me by my first name and I may fall for you,”

You glare at him, before rolling your eyes, “I see you’re feeling better now,” you walk forward, glancing back at him, “you coming?”

And his wrist tingles still tingle from your touch, his lips quirk into a smile, “Yeah.”

“Why did you become a bodyguard?” Satoru asks you, the movie you had haphazardly chosen still ongoing had all become background noise while you spoke, the illumination from the television screen being the only thing that kept your faces lit in the dark living room (he had insisted on shutting the lights off for an “authentic movie watching experience”).

It had been a few weeks, with no signs of the threat posed ever being eliminated — still new threats were being made, and the Gojo family was still on edge.

But you were on edge for a whole other reason.

His fingers were still shoved in the bag of kettle corn he had been snacking on this entire time, but you could feel his gaze on you, instead of the movie.

“What do you mean?” your eyes slide to him, as your phone’s ringer goes off with a spam email, and you silence it, keeping it on vibrate for emergencies, “and what’s with the sudden question?”

The two of you had settled into your routine — days spent in class, meals shared, grocery shopping, and nights spent either in or out — but again, always together. And, it wasn’t bad — some of it was fun, to the point you almost forgot you were working.

But you were working. Even now, as your legs are thrown up on the couch, crossed underneath you, your knee brushing against his thigh.

He shrugs, “You owe me a question, remember?” and he reminds you of your promise from weeks ago — you had wondered why he had never asked you anything that night, “You never talk about yourself. You implied you have your degree, but not much else. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re intelligent — you could have done anything, why this?” and his lips curl into that mischievous, “unless you just had to guard me when you found out it was me,”

You toss a throw pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, “If only your body was as bulletproof as your body,” and he huffs out a laugh, as you sigh, “why are you interested anyway?”

“Because I am,” you scoff.

“Nice reasoning,” he only grins, a thousand watt even in the dark.

“I thought so,” and he’s holding the pillow to his chest, “c’mon, can you not tell me even one thing about yourself?”

He wasn’t going to let this go was he? And you relent, chewing on your lip, “My family has been in this business for years — my grandfather, my father, my uncles, and my cousins, and I wanted to be one too. To protect people — it’s a lot more work than it seems. It’s quick thinking, critical reasoning, and analytical skills. It’s all I ever wanted to do after watching my dad do it,” you say softly, “but he didn’t think I was capable of it. He thought I was too soft. Too weak. So I decided to prove him wrong,”

“You weak? Has your father met you?” and you huff a laugh, “I’m serious,” his cerulean pools meeting yours with not a ripple of hesitancy in them, “I’ve seen you — I don’t I’ve met anyone this determined, or stubborn,” he adds with a smirk.

“I’m stubborn?” you gape at him, “this coming from the king of stubborn,”

“Only if you’ll be my queen,” and you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn, as your gaze turns back to the movie — why did your heart catch at his words? “but trust me, I’m very flexible in other aspects,”

“Oh my god, is every other sentence that leaves your mouth a pick-up line?” and he opens his mouth, “don’t say ‘only for you,’ or I will be the only threat you have to worry about,”

“Promise?” you grab another pillow, but he catches your wrist before you can toss it. Your breath catches, and you can’t meet his gaze — you can’t, because you know if you do— but then he whispers your name.

And you can’t help it. You look at him. His eyes are so pretty. They were really the first things that struck you when you met him — that was before he opened his mouth. They looked like they contained multitudes, a far too beautiful ocean tucked behind sunglasses and an irritated scowl. But it wasn’t a secret that Satoru Gojo was attractive — especially not when every other person glared at you for simply being in his presence. But physical attractiveness meant little if a person wasn’t good — because superficiality could only take you so far.

And you knew what it was like to be only judged superficially — and by the way Satoru’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when these people chatted him up, he was far too used to it.

And once he did speak, you had written him off as another rich kid — you had seen them a dime a dozen throughout your schooling and from the people your family was protected to hire. But there was something about him — something you couldn’t quite shake, even though every part of you was telling to do so.

“What is it, Satoru?” And his fingers tug you a little closer, gently, his hand loose enough for you to slip away, but you don’t. Why don’t you?

“You don’t always have to have your guard up,” his voice is soft, far too soft for the far too loud heir, “it’s okay to open up,”

You shake your head, but still unable to pull away, “It’s dangerous,” and he laughs, a sound that only warms the thin icy barrier between you both, melting it to nothing.

“Isn’t danger the whole reason we met?” And now his thumb brushes up and down against your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse roaring just underneath.

You pull away again, shaking your head, as you cross your arms, trying to hold your resolve together, “I can’t do my job if I’m distracted,” and you couldn’t, even now, you weren’t evaluating any risks, you weren’t trying to find the source of the threats — no, you were too busy trying not to inch closer to your client, trying not to look at his lips, trying not to give in to what you wanted.

“And I’m a distraction?” he looks far too pleased, but a thought seems to sour his smirk, “I thought Suguru was more of one,” and his lips are caught in a slight pout.

“Geto was just keeping me company while you entertained those girls hanging on your every word,” you can’t dull the point to your words, and it replaces his pout with a grin.

“So you were jealous,”

“You’re the one who was jealous — you could have killed Suguru with your glare alone,”

“But you didn’t deny it,” and it makes you stop — why didn’t you deny it?

“I can’t do this,” and you’re pulling away, before flicking off the tv and rising from the couch your phone in hand, turning towards the hallway, “it’s late we should go to bed—“ but he’s catching your wrist again, “Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you hated how gentle his fingers felt around your wrist, “how are you supposed to protect me if you’re too busy running away from me?”

“I’m great at multitasking,” and he’s drawing closer to you, his soft footfalls against the carpet, even as you step away from him, “my job is to protect you, we can’t get distracted—“

“I thought you were so good at multitasking,” he chuckles, his fingers find your wrist again, slipping to intertwine with your own, fingers interlaced, and your phone falls from your fingers and onto the couch, “what I said that night when I was drunk was true — I don’t have a lot of people I trust. People don’t understand. They put me on a pedestal or they don’t want me, they want the concept of me — not the reality,”

“I’m not licensed as a therapist you know,” and he’s sighing.

“Do you always have to deflect with humor? Because if we both do that, we’ll never get through a conversation,” and he squeezes your hand, “which I guess I don’t mind if that means you’ll stay,”

“Satoru—“

“We don’t have to do anything now — we don’t have to do anything at all,” and you can feel his words warming your skin, “but don’t you feel something?”

You hesitate, and you can’t look at him, “No, I don’t,”

“You’re not a very good liar — don’t they teach you that in bodyguard academy?”

You snort, holding your head, “Is that where you imagined I got my training done?”

“Well, you don’t exactly like to share, now do you?” he’s stepping forward again, and you can’t bring yourself to run away anymore.

“I shouldn’t,” and you hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, “but I do,”

You don’t need to look at him to hear the smile on his lips, “so maybe it’s a distraction worth having,”

“But—” and he’s gently turning you to face him, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, heat blooming with his touch, “Satoru…”

“Why do you keep saying my name when you know I like hearing it?” he’s teasing, but you’re not shying away from his touch, as his fingers cup your chin now, upwards, so you meet his gaze, “maybe we should have had you pretend to be my girlfriend,”

You chuckle, “Oh I could see that going wrong in so many ways,” and he’s leaning even closer, as he’s left the line you’d drawn far behind, marred it with his touch, and is luring you over to stumble over the edge with him.

“Is this one of them?”

“Probably,” and his lips brush against yours — he tastes sweet, the taste of kettle corn lingers, as his fingers cup your cheek now, and find purchase on his shoulder. It’s brief, a soft press that leaves you far too breathless, as if his touch had taken the air from your lungs, only to leave heat behind, “definitely,”

“Is that a good thing or—” and your lips find his this time, a gasp you swallow with a smirk, and he melts into your touch, eager fingers grasping at the front of his shirt. And he responds in kind, his fingers tracing a path, as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand settles on the back of your neck.

His touch set every nerve ending on fire — a desperate wildfire that burned a trail across your mind and body — leaving only the crave of his touch behind, that left you wanting more, needing more.

“Was that good?” you murmur, as you take in your handiwork, his pink lips were bitten red by your kisses, his marble skin a lovely flush, and his gaze far too needy. God, it’s far too easy to get lost in him — pull your anchor from the shore and get lost in his gaze and touch, “god I shouldn’t ask that, we shouldn’t be doing this—” but your body refuses to pull away, and you don’t think by the grasp he has on you, that you’d be able to anyway.

But he only gives you the same answer to each of your statements — he kisses you again, slower and more languid this time, as the two of you walk towards the bedroom, your hands reaching for each other and the walls, as you both stumble into his bedroom.

“We don’t—” he says, between kisses, “I didn’t—”

“I didn’t either, but—” you can’t stop touching him, you don’t want to, despite the logical part of you screaming at you to leave his room, it’s overridden by just how much you want him. He’s frustrating, he’s an idiot, he’s sweet, he’s cute, and he’s a little pathetic — but you liked that in a man. Every sense of logic is screaming at you to stop — but it all turns to white noise “but I don’t want to stop.”

He’s grinning as he pulls you into another kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist, pressing you against him, “That addicted already?” lips parting as he kisses down your neck, pulse jumping under his touch.

“You’re just lucky Geto didn’t get to me first,” and he furrows his brow, before his teeth graze against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips, “Satoru, what was that for—”

“So everyone knows you’re mine? Including Suguru,” he’s sucking lightly at the mark, soothing his tongue, “and I’ll make sure he knows,”

“Oh, I trust you’ll be subtle,” and he’s guiding you towards his bed, both of you falling onto it, his knee pressing your legs apart, as he hovers over you, his ocean gaze dark as a storm ridden sea.

“Oh you know me, princess,” and his knee presses against your clothed cunt, rubbing against it teasingly, “subtlety is my specialty,”

“Subtle as a truck,” you murmur, and he’s laughing as he kisses you again, making your lips curl, as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing your hips, “Satoru, please,”

“What’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you?” he’s kissing needy kisses to your neck, as his knee doesn’t relent, grinding lightly against your increasingly wet core, slick leeching through the thin material of your shorts, “gotta make sure you want it right?”

“You treat all the people you bring home this well?” and he’s pausing, lips against your neck, “I didn’t mean anything—”

“You’re the first,” you stare up at him, and he’s hesitant for once when usually he’s always barreling forward, “I’ve never brought anyone here,” and he licks his lips, a deeper flush settling over his porcelain skin, “I’ve never actually—”

And you blink, “Really?”

He huffs, “Is it that surprising—”

“I mean a little, from the way everyone acts around you, and the way you act—”

“Well, ‘act’ is the key word, now isn’t it?” he’s licking his lips as he looks down at you, “it’s easy to act when you know what they expect from you — a role to play,”

“Well, the role’s been filled, so how about you just be yourself for me?” you murmur softly, a featherlight touch as you trace the curve of his jaw, and his lips find his smile under your delicate touch, “so I can ask, is this your first time like you asked me?”

And he’s leaning up to kiss you, your hand resting against his chest, his heartbeat galloping under your touch, “And if I said yes?”

You smile, before flipping him onto his back, his gaze wide as he stares up at you, “Then we better make it memorable.”

“Please, I want to—“ his soft pants left his perfect lips, chest heaving as your fingers curled around his erection, far too hard from just what you had done. You’d stripped yourself and him bare — your inhibitions left far behind — as your lips kissed the tip of his aching cock.

“Lemme make you feel good, Satoru,” you murmur, looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your fingers smearing his pre cum along his length, and he’s pressing his head into the pillow, “s’big, can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur, and you slowly pump him, drawing moan after moan from his lips.

“Won’t last long—can’t—“ he’s biting his lip, his hips thrusting into your touch, before your lips suck at his tip again, and he’s gone, cumming hard all over your face and fingers. God, it never felt that good when he touched himself. Your fingers even brushing against him made him want to cum almost instantly, your soft touch and lips were enough to send him over the edge over and over again.

He’s panting, eyes fluttering open to see you licking your lips clean with your tongue, as you meet his gaze with a grin, slowly sucking on each one of your fingers until you’ve cleaned yourself of his cum.

“Princess, fuck,” he’s lying back on the pillow, as your lips slowly kiss back up his body, your tongue dragging between the fluttering muscles of his stomach and chest.

“Already hard again?” You murmur, a smirk on your lips, “so sensitive for me,”

He’s keening at your words, a whimper leaving his lips. His eyes are blown out in pleasure as he meets your gaze, and you kiss him again, sloppy and messy, as his tongue brushes against yours, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

“Please,” he can’t help the words leaving his lips, “I need you,”

“Is this the first time you’ve begged for something?” You tease him, smirk on your lips as your thumb teases one of his nipples, pulling a gasp from his lips, “such a good boy,”

He hissed at your praise, “fuck—“

And you’re grinding against him, he’s already embarrassingly hard, blood rushing back to his cock as if it never left, as it drags against the all too wet fabric of your panties. And every small moan that leaves your lips leaving him needing more, his pre cum mixing with your cum that seeps through your panties, and is the second time he comes with you gonna be just grinding against each other on this bed? But he can’t help it if you keep nibbling at his neck like that, your pretty little pants in his ear, the head of his dick catching on your clit — so fucking good.

“Toru, c-close, ngh, g’nna cum—“ and he’s nodding, forcing his eyes open to watch you cum, your chest shaking, as you hover above him, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as you said his name.

“S’good,” he’s grunting, “Cum f’me,” and you both do, the slick and stickiness between your bodies almost unbearable, as you both pant, as you rest your head against his shoulder.

The silence sinks in for a moment, as you kiss his cheek, “we can stop here if you want,” your voice is soft, nose brushing against his neck, “don’t want to make you—“

And he’s flipping you onto your back, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitching as he drags the material down your legs, and tosses it behind him, “I want this, I want you, and I won’t stop saying it until you believe it,” he leans down, breath warming your breasts through your shirt, before his lips suck at your clothed nipples, making you shiver, “you like that, huh?”

“Shut up,” your cheeks burn, but he’s only tugging your shirt over your head and off, his gaze hot as he drags his eyes down your exposed body, and it makes you squirm, “Satoru — please—“

“Now who’s the one doing the begging?” he leans down to suck on your nipple, while his fingers toy with the other between his thumb and forefinger, “I wanna learn what makes you feel good — wanna make you cum under my touch, wanna taste you,” he switches sides, his teeth grazing the skin of your breast, sucking a mark before soothing it with his tongue, “mine,”

“Satoru, fuck, I want—“ and his fingers trace down your body, making you gasp, he’s kissing down your chest and then your stomach, tongue dipping into your bellybutton, “you fucking—“

“Gotta make you feel good don’t I?” he has a shit eating grin on his lips, as he settles between your thighs, and his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “though it looks like you’re already feeling good,”

You bite back a whimper, “Are you gonna make me feel good or are you gonna keep talking—“ you moan when his thumb bears down on your needy clit, rubbing it through the nearly translucent fabric of your underwear.

“What was that, sweetheart?” And he’s snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin, “couldn’t hear you,”

“You fucker—“ and he’s kissing your clothed cunt through the wet fabric, nose brushing against your clit, making you nearly shake, as he inhales before he moans.

“So sweet, must taste even sweeter,” he murmurs before tugging your underwear down, before you’re kicking it off, making him chuckle, “so eager,” and you scowl up at him, ineffective from the way lips are parted, “you’re so cute,”

“I’m not cute,” you pout, and he’s laughing, a noise you could drown in, just as you do his eyes.

“You’re very cute, and I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it,” and his lips press soft kisses to your thighs, “my cute bodyguard, you gonna guard my heart as well as you do my body?”

And before you can reply his breath is warming your soaked cunt, his fingers parting your folds apart, your clit was puffy, your sex slick with your mixed juices, “so pretty, this all just for me?” And you hiss as he holds your outer lips apart, “so this is what your pussy looks like, huh?” And your thighs are twitching, trying to shut, but his palms hold you apart, his heated gaze meeting your shy ones, “you’re perfect, don’t hide from me, you’ve done enough of that,” and he kisses your clit, making you moan, “and I won’t have that anymore,”

“Satoru—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping pussy experimentally, tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, fuck, how can he this good at this? Your toes are already curling as he groans, his fingers sliding under your thighs, and tugging you impossibly closer to his face. Your fingers weave into his white locks, “‘ngh—

“Be a good girl and take it,” he grunts against you, slurping your juices, the sounds of his tongue buried in your cunt, fucking you open, dragging across your walls, “taste s’fucking good, how’d I hold out this long without tasting you?” And your eyes flutter open at his groans, seeing him grind down on the sheets, so fucking horny from eating you out, “g’nna just cum from your taste alone, Princess,” you’re so incredibly soft, so soft, despite your walls being so tough, and it makes only eat you eat you from the inside out.

You’re so close, and all you hear is the sounds of his greedy tongue swallowing you whole, and the sound of your heartbeat and short gasps. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your thighs twitching under his touch, hips jolting forward to meet his touch, his tongue so fucking deep that you can’t see straight, “Toru, please, I’m so close—“

And you feel him groan into your pussy, redoubling his efforts before his fingers find your clit and rub at it while he sucks at your cunt. You cum hard, fingernails digging into his scalp, as your back arches as he eagerly eats you out through your orgasm. The wet squelch of your cunt and his tongue slurping against you, drinking every drop you offer him.

And then finally he’s pulling away with a pop, his chin and mouth dripping with your release and his spit, pink tongue darting out to clean up your cum from his face, wiping off the rest as he looked up at you from white lashed half lidded eyes.

And you can’t even speak, still coming down from your high, as he kisses up your body again, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, your fingers reaching for his cheek, tracing his jaw, before cupping his cheek.

“How the fuck do you know how to do that well?” And he flashes a pretty smile, as he drags his thumb down your lips.

“I said I was a virgin, I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do some things — and as you know, I’m an excellent student,” and you huff, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m naturally good at everything,”

“And always so humble,” he laughs, before he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his sweet lips, and you’re rolling him over onto his back, his erection slick with precum, pressing against your sensitive cunt, “let me make you feel good now,” you murmur, his cock twitching against you, “wanna ride you, Toru, need you in me,”

And he’s hissing, as he moves to sit against the headboard, “You keep talking like that princess, I’m g’nna cum before you even—“ and your fingers are reaching between your bodies, and you’re stroking him, smearing his precum over the length of his shaft, making his hips jerk, “fuck—”

You’re so fucking pretty — your teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as you straddle him, hovering still, his aching tip barely brushing against your dripping cunt, “are you sure?” you murmur, eyes meeting his own, and his lips quirk into a smile.

“Never been more sure of anything,” and you sink onto him, thick length parting your folds, and he groans, as you fit him in your pussy, inch by inch, until your hips are flush. And fuck, he’s never felt anything better — pleasure runs up and down his body, as his hands find their way to your hips.

You’re tense at first, your back slightly arched, and when he shifts under you, a moan is ripped from your lips, as you begin to adjust to his size, “s’big, Toru, gonna make it hard for me to last too, feels too good,” you’re mumbling, and he’s holding his hips taut, making sure not to move — or else, he’s sure he’d cum in one stroke, “g’nna move ok?” and he’s nodding desperately, your walls already fluttering around him — slick and warm, better anything he’d ever felt.

You lift up to the tip, before beginning to rock steadily up and down, as he moans, your sweet cunt swallowing him eagerly, as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your chest bounces as you ride him, and he can’t resist leaning forward to take a hardened bud in his mouth, your moan making his cock twitch inside you. And he knows why people become addicted to sex — hell, he knew was an addict for it now, but only with you.

“Fuck, never felt anything this good before, sweetheart, feel s’perfect for me,” he’s grunting, the coil in his stomach growing tighter, as your pace grows more and more sloppy. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you from the way you were groaning his name again and again. The wet squelch and smacks of your bodies meeting again and again, only making it harder to hold back, and when he looks to see a white ring of your precum pooling around the base of his dick, he’s nearly gone, “fuck, baby, need you to cum with me,”

“It’s okay, pretty boy, cum for me,” he keens at the praise, but he’s stubborn, as you established, and he won’t cum until you do too — and so he ensures it, reaching between your bodies to rub meanly at your clit before meeting your thrusts with his own.

And his tip brushes against that spot that has your vision blurring and toes curling, “Toru, ngh, I’m—” and you’re cumming hard around him, making him spill his warm and thick seed inside your cunt, and he’s groaning you name as he does, your body slowing as you both come down from your highs, your head resting on his shoulder, as your bodies grow limp, resting, his back pressed to the headboard of his bed.

His fingers trace the curve of your back gently, as he turns his head to press soft kisses to your neck, “Am I still just a distraction?” his lips curled into a smile, and you chuckle, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Definitely,” but you lean back to cup his cheek, and look at his pretty face again, “but one worth having.”

You don’t wake from your alarm the next morning.

Instead, you wake to banging on the door. You both jolt awake, and he’s pulling you into his arms, even as you move to get up, he won’t let go, strong arms around your waist. You’re easing his arms off, trying to be gentle, “Toru, let go, and wait here, your father had a panic room installed in your closet, you hear anything, go inside—”

“No, I’m coming with you,” and you shake your head.

“I’m hired to protect you, not the other way around,” you leave his embrace, and face him, his crystal eyes blurred over with worry, “I can handle this,” you reassure him, your fingers intertwining with his, as you press a kiss to his knuckles, “I promise,”

“But—” and you kiss him gently, silencing his protests, before you slip away into the hallway.

You enter the living room, shutting the bedroom door without a sound, stalking through the hall, as you grab a knife and pepper spray from the chest of drawers that was pressed to the wall of the hallway — you had several self defense tools hidden all over the apartment. Your heartbeat thunders in your ear, mouth dry, as you approach the door from the side.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Gojo, open this door,” and you sigh, relaxing, as you check and unlock the door for him.

Shinsaku Gojo was only a man you were able to meet once before your work for him began. And it was a privilege even to see him then. His schedule was always packed — multiple meetings, multiple clients, and multiple women, all vying for his attention. Even as you spoke with him the first time, his eyes were on his phone the entire time, except when he had warned you, not to let anything distract you from protecting his son.

And you had done just that — and even worse, his son had done the distracting, “Mr—”

“Where’s my son? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, and neither have you—didn’t you hear from your agency?” his voice is raising, as he dials your number again, and your phone vibrates on the couch. He scoffs, disconnecting the call, as his hard gaze turned back to you, “what if there was a threat? You left your phone—”

“Dad,” Satoru emerges from the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s not her fault, she forgot it last night when we were watching a movie,”

“Watching a movie?” he sneers, his cerulean gaze the same as son, but without any of the warmth Satoru had — an icy tundra compared to a warm pool, “she should be watching you, that’s her job—”

“She was watching me — something you never bothered to do,” and his father’s eyes narrow, “she’s shown more concern for me than you ever had — and she only met me a few weeks ago. What’s your excuse for being a pathetic piece of—“

“Satoru,” your fingers brush his shoulder, shaking your head, “sir, I take responsibility for this lapse of judgment. Don’t blame your son,”

Satoru lowers his voice, “it’s not your fault—“

“It is. I disregarded by duty to protect you,” your cheeks burn with shame — “what if i had missed an alert you were in danger? What if I failed to protect you because I wasn’t focused? What if—“

“Nothing happened,” he says softly, and the twitch of his fingers tells you he’s gonna reach for you, but you step forward, shaking your head.

“Nothing did,” and you turn to his father, “I’ll protect Satoru until you can find a suitable replacement for me. But I compromised my mission to protect him. I would like to resign as soon as possible,”

“No! I—“

“Agreed,” his father says, “I’ll have your replacement here in an hour, make sure you’re packed up by then,” and his father leaves without another word.

You brush past him to gather your things, but he’s caught you by the wrist, “Why did you do—“

“Gojo,” and you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe—“

“I don’t care—“ you cut him off.

“I do, I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because of me. What it was an emergency last night and you got hurt because of my own carelessness—“

“It wasn’t careless what happened last night—“

“It was,” you say, walking to your room, “and it won’t happen again.”

You left. You had expected a fight, an argument, a dramatic show of tears — but nothing. Satoru hadn’t even opened his door to watch you leave. The other bodyguard arrived quickly, and you left the penthouse and didn’t look back.

It was for the best.

You had a duty, a role to play, and more than that, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of your inability to compartmentalize. Even so, Satoru’s father was kind enough not to have told your father what happened — or you supposed it was pity in exchange for your quick and easy resignation.

Fuck. Why were you still thinking about this? You rolled over in bed, burying your head under your comforter. A week out, and you still couldn’t stop worrying about Satoru, about his safety, about the hurt on his face, about that night…

You had fucked everything up, and fucked Satoru up in the aftermath.

You poke your head out, and stare at your phone on your bedside table — 7:45 PM, no new messages — you had written out six different messages to him again and again, before deleting them. You wondered how many more you’d write before you finally would rid your mind of him.

Would you ever rid your mind of him?

And that’s when your phone rings. But it’s not flashing Satoru’s number — it’s his father. You scramble for the phone — why was he calling? And you can only think of one reason. You can’t say a single word when you pick up — his father already hissing his first question.

“Where is he?” your words are lodged in your throat, stuck on your heart that had leapt from your chest.

“What?”

“Where’s Satoru? He came to you didn’t he?” he growls, and you hear a slam, assumedly his fist against his desk, “he shook off his new bodyguard, and his phone is off,”

“He hasn’t — I haven’t talked to him since I left—” your mind is running a mile a minute, racking your brain, placing the call on speakerphone, as you text Satoru, where are you? “Where did the bodyguard see him last?”

“He had him at the dorms, he said he was going to see a friend, and then gave him the slip,” his father groans, “you hear anything from him, otherwise—”

“I’ll let you know,” you cut him off at the threats — you had more important things to do. You checked your messages, but your messages hadn’t gone through, and you tried calling him — but it went straight to voicemail. Satoru was upset — he could’ve blocked you or turned off his phone to piss off his father, but you didn’t see him doing that. He was an idiot, but he knew his father would lose his shit.

And then you remembered. The tracker you placed on Satoru — you never took it off. You had sewed it into the insole of his daily shoes (the man had far too many clothes and shoes, but he rarely found the energy to not wear anything besides the shoes he always wore).

You turned it on, biting your lip as you watched the tracker loaded, and his location popped up — and it wasn’t at his apartment.

It was in Shibuya — you typed in the address and he was at a house.

You furrow your brow, who did he know who lived in Shibuya? And then it clicked.

Fuck.

Those girls.

Satoru groaned, fuck, why is his head hurting so badly?

It wasn’t exactly unusual the last few days. He hadn’t been sleeping much since you left, he spent most of his nights watching TV and rotting in his bed. But everything reminded him of you — his bed, his couch, and even the shows he watched (he had continued one of the shows you both had started one late night).

His apartment was a disaster — a mess of empty soda cans, empty wrappers of candy and old takeout containers. But he couldn’t be bothered with it — to clean it up or call someone to clean it up. His bodyguard had taken up residence in your room — or rather the guest room — and hardly emerged, keeping an eye on him through cameras his father had installed around the doors and hallway.

Not that he really needed to, Satoru rarely left his apartment, even had skipped classes for a week — sending an email that he had a very contagious illness and that he’d be happy to attend class if necessary. They sent him materials to work on classwork from home, piled untouched on his kitchen counter, with a possible smudge from the hot fudge he had last night.

He had made progress — instead of staying in bed, he moved onto the couch for his afternoon nap, and he had just fallen asleep when there was a banging on his door. He groaned into the couch pillow he had just gotten comfortable on, before pulling it onto his head, trying to block out the sounds of the knocking.

“Satoru! Open up,” he hears Suguru’s voice through the door, “open the fucking door, I know you’re not sick,”

He pulls himself up, groaning, as he wipes the small amount of drool from his lips, as he meanders to the door, throwing it open.

“You look like shit,” Suguru says, brushing past him to enter.

“No ‘hello, you look like shit?’” He mumbles, still rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” he stands, hands in his pockets, as he takes in the mess with a wrinkled nose, “although I see you’ve decided to redecorate,”

“Hilarious,” Satoru replies, lying back on the couch, “did you come here just to hassle me?”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but the other was to see if you’re ready to pick yourself back up after your breakup—“

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Satoru snaps.

“If it wasn’t, then why does it look like you haven’t showered in several days since she left?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, and Satoru scowls.

“I’m sick,” he turns away to face the couch, “I don’t have the energy to shower,”

“But you have the energy to eat about half a dozen mochi doughnuts?” Suguru holds up an empty doughnut box, and Satoru holds a couch pillow to his chest, “Satoru, come on, it isn’t like you to wallow like this,”

“I’m not wallowing—“

“Yeah, yeah, you’re sick, right?” Suguru says sarcastically. Satoru doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes, “well you don’t seem like you’re sneezing or coughing so go take a shower or something,” Satoru gives a weak fake cough, and he could feel Suguru’s glare, “fine, rot in bed, but you have to get up sometime, just text me when you’re ready to,”

And Satoru hears Suguru’s footsteps recede to the door, swinging shut with a click behind him. He buries his face in the pillow. It wasn’t a break up. How could it be when you didn’t even have a relationship to begin with? You had made that clear enough when you left without another word to him. He didn’t leave his room until he heard the door shut behind you, and he made his way out to watch you leave out the front door of the apartment. And you didn’t even look back. But you weren’t the type to.

He felt like he was always looking back — one way or another.

And even now, as he came to — he was trying to remember what he had done after Suguru left. Someone else had shown up — knocked at his door. Offered to get him out of the house — offered him free alcohol and a distraction.

And he had agreed — if only to forget about you for a moment. Drinking was the only thing that made him forget — if he only could somehow forget how terrible alcohol tasted.

His head spun, so was this a hangover? It’s certainly worse than the one he had before — the last one felt like his brain was fuzzy and nausea clawed at his stomach — this time, it felt more akin to someone taking a blender to both of those organs. And his neck, he stretched it both ways. How had he fallen asleep?

And then he tried to lift up his hand to rub his eyes, and he couldn't, wrist straining against something — his brow furrowed, what was arm caught on — and his eyes fluttered open. It was dark — the only light came from another room, peeking through the crack at the bottom of, what he assumed was, a door. And then as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked at his arms.

Ropes. Twisted around both his arms, binding his wrists and forearms to the arms of a chair, and his vision blurs — what? His legs jerk instinctively, but ropes dig into the flesh of his ankles, and he glanced down only to find what he expected.

“You’re awake,” the light flicks on, he lifts his head, blinking away the fog in his head and the burning tears slipping from his eyes, “didn’t realize the drug would knock you out for that long,”

He blinks again and again, light flooding his eyes, until he can see and sees a familiar face — “Misaki?” the light sends a piercing jolt through his head, “or is it Yumiko?”

“Well that’s flattering, you can’t even remember my name?” she sighs, crossing her arms, “well I unfortunately don’t have the same luxury,” and then she adds with a quirk of her lips, “it is Yumiko,” and she steps forward, as his eyes squeeze shut, his head still banging, “sorry what I gave you to knock you out can cause some light sensitivity,”

It’s slowly sinking in, “I don’t know what kind of weird kink you have, but I’m not interested,” and she scoffs, pressing her knuckles to her chin, “where am I?”

“Do you think I’m really going to tell you that?” she raises an eyebrow, “I did send you threats after all, you don’t think I’d be that stupid to tell you where I am,”

He needed to buy time, he needed to find a way to get out of here, and to do that, he needed time, “What? Are you obsessed with me or something? Do you want my body?”

“I’m going to stop your overinflated ego there,” she sighs, leaning against a table that was behind her, “I have a debt to pay and you’re the price,”

“Debt?” he repeats, “is this where you explain your whole plan? And villain speech? Because I usually I could care less, but I’m feeling a little generous with my time, as I’m a little tied up at the moment, so—”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“It’s known to happen on occasion,” she rubs her temples, and then something occurs to him, “how did you get my address? You showed up and invited me,”

She shakes his head, “You think I couldn’t find out your address after sending you threats?” and she sighs, “You know this is why I tried to do this at the first party — get it over with so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But then you crushed your beer cup, your little girlfriend got in the way, and that idiot Misaki accidentally switched her shot glass with yours, so I couldn’t get you dosed,” she grits her teeth, “and then the rest of the semester, your girlfriend was up your ass the entire time — but she wasn’t your girlfriend was she? She was your bodyguard,” he says nothing, “you don’t need to confirm it for me, I already found her information, her name, her address—”

“What do you want? Money? My father will pay anything to get me back. Tell me who you need to repay and he’ll do it,” and her lips curl.

“So serious now — and so cooperative, maybe I should have kidnapped her too while I was at it,” she shrugs, while she grabs her phone from the table — a burner — “my father will be here to escort you to where you need to go. The yakuza will take it from there,” his blood runs cold, “Don’t cause a fuss and i can promise your girlfriend will stay safe,”

He grits his teeth — he was so stupid. This was exactly the kind of shit you were trying to protect him from. And it was the thing he landed himself in the moment you left. But he didn’t care — because it was better this way, because you were safe this way.

“Wow, you’re pretty cute when you’re all quiet,” and she’s walking over, and he’s flinching as she drags a manicured nail down his cheek, before tilting it up, “it’s just that mouth that’s a problem,” and her thumb brushes down his lips, “don’t bite, or we might have a problem,”

And he doesn’t, but then he smiles back, “you might like it when I bite,” he smirks, “why don’t you come here and find out?” And she raises her eyebrows, leaning closer, and he smashes his forehead into hers, “fuck off,”

She stumbles back, losing her balance, and leaning against the table as she clutches at her forehead. Satoru watches her, trying to wriggle out of his constraints, rope chafing against his skin, red welts rising on his skin, but he only manages to get one hand free before she’s starting to get her bearings, and then he’s trying to free himself, his chair tipping over. And now he’s lying helplessly as she stumbles forward over to him, clutching a knife she grabbed off the table.

“I have to hand you over to the yakuza, but they didn’t say you had to be completely unharmed,” she presses the tip of the knife to his cheek, “maybe we’ll do something to that pretty face of yours,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

CRACK.

He hears a body slump over, and the clatter of the knife against the cement floor, and his eyes open to find you kneeling beside him. He’s blinking, murmuring your name, “What are you—”

“Well I never did remove that tracker did I?” You’re cutting the ropes on his wrists and ankles with the knife, “and I’m lucky you wear the same damn shoes everyday,”

“Why did you come for me?” he says, as you finally free him his restraints, your fingers gentle as they examine the welts and bruises left on his skin, “you could have just told my father where I was or the police,”

“I could’ve. I saw where you were and I figured it out—“ and your voice wavers, “but all I could think was that I wanted to find you. And I didn’t wanna wait for anyone else. I didn’t want something to happen just because someone else was too slow,” the lump in your throat grows only larger, as you sit, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,”

“Why?” he asks softly, his fingers brush against your cheek, and he knows why — he does, but he needs to hear it.

“Because I just want…to be the one to protect you,” you admit, tears burning at your eyes, as your thumb traces over his rope burns and bruises, “I wish that I could have,”

“You did a pretty good job, considering I almost was about to get my face cut up,” and he gently wipes your tears away, “imagine what a tragedy that would be,”

You give a watery chuckle, cupping his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” and he opens his mouth, “no i really am. I shouldn’t have slept with you, only to cut and run after. I thought…I thought I was doing you a favor,”

“How?” And you sigh, blinking away your tears.

“I put your life in danger by doing that. I couldn’t do that. I knew the only way you’d let me go is…if I lied to you and said I didn’t care about you,” you bite your bottom lip, “and I’m sorry because I only hurt you more in the end,”

He kisses your lips gently, chastely, his breath warming your lips as he parts from them, “you did,” and you scoff, pushing him playfully, “but as long as you promise not to do it again, I think I can find it in my incredibly generous heart to forgive you,”

You kiss him again, softly, your fingers sliding to the back his neck, into his undercut, “I promise,” and he grins, before leaning back to kiss you again, when a cough behind you catches your attention.

“My father will be getting here shortly you idiots, while you gaze fucking stupidly into each other’s eyes,” she sneers, and you raise an eyebrow.

“You think I’d come here without calling the police? They already have picked up your father — and they should be almost here—“ and the sounds of an ambulance and police sirens come into earshot.

“Good timing,” Satoru mutters, as Yumiko tries and fails to stumble to her feet, and you get up and pin her to the ground. Satoru raises an eyebrow, and watches, as you glance back at him, tilting your head in question, “nothing, it’s just…hot to see you in action,”

You laugh, “Did she hit your head too?” And he shrugs, as he gets onto this feet with shaky legs, “Satoru—“

And he sits next to you, leaning on your shoulder, “just let me rest here for a minute,” he mumbles.

For the first time since you left, Satoru felt like he could finally rest.

And Satoru did rest, he realized as he blinked awake to the ambient sounds of the hospital room, the distinct beep of the heartbeat monitor, the dim light of the moon filtering through the shades, and the distant sounds of people walking through the hall. He hears the sounds of sheets rustling, and his gaze snaps over to his left.

His gaze softens. You were fast asleep beside him, your arms tucked under your head, your breaths were soft, as they were the night you two had spent together. He sat himself up — fingers running through your hair gently. You had fallen asleep before him that night, face buried in the crook of his neck, and your legs entangled with his. And now you slept beside him on a chair, leaning on his bedside.

His fingers carded through your hair again, and you stirred, as he swore under his breath, your eyes fluttered open, “Toru?” you mumbled, still half asleep, and he hummed.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighed softly, “why are you sleeping here? You should have gone home,” you sit up, stretching, as you furrow your brow, eyes scanning him for any sign of an injury or distress.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay — you were unconscious, but no concussion thankfully. I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t wake,” you sigh, words tumbling out almost faster than you can think of them, “they mostly kept you for observation, but are you feeling okay? Should I get the nurse—“

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you, as he sighs, burying his face in your neck, “I just want to stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, “I got everything I need right here, got it?” He feels you nod, and he feels the hint of your tears on his skin, but says nothing, only his lips quirk, “you did mean your promise?”

“I did, I won’t leave like that again,” and he’s leaning back, head tilted, and you chuckle, “I mean I won’t leave you at all, how’s that?”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, leaning closer, and his heart squeezes when he hears your breath hitch as he does. His eyes flicker to your lips and back, “can I kiss—“

But you kiss him first, softly, your fingers brushing his cheek, and god, why was it that a single touch from you melted him away to nothing? Whittled his world view to a pin where all he could feel, all he could see, was you.

And then you kiss his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and then your teeth graze the soft part of his neck, drawing a pretty gasp from his lips, as you suck lightly on his skin.

He’s whispering your name, breath sucked from his lungs as if your teeth had pierced through his throat instead of just his skin, “what was that for?”

And you smile, “so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“You’re changing your major?” Suguru raises his eyebrow, as he lounges on Satoru’s couch, holding his head up with his elbow propped against the top of the couch, “your father must’ve been thrilled about that,”

“He lost his shit, but that geezer can fuck off,” Satoru shrugs, “he threatened to not pay my tuition, but once I threatened to go public with his dealings with the yakuza, he saw it my way,”

Suguru tilts his head, “His what?”

You bring over tea from the kitchen, placing it on the table, “After what Satoru found out from Yumiko and her father, their debt to the yakuza would have been paid off by kidnapping one of Satoru’s father’s close relatives, but I was wondering why was the yakuza so eager to do so?”

“Apparently my old man had the brilliant idea of entertaining the yakuza on some deal he was making,” Satoru explains, leaning back on the couch, as you sit against his legs, “and when he backed out, the yakuza wanted to push it through anyway — and well, thus their blackmail of Yumiko’s father, once they found out his daughter went to school with me.”

“Yeah, turns out her father had gambling debts owed to the yakuza,” you sighed, “she got caught in the crossfire — I almost feel bad,”

“Speak for yourself, she drugged me, tied me to a chair, and held a knife to my face,” Satoru scoffs, sipping his tea that he had you drown in sugar.

“Well you didn’t complain when I did that last night,” you reply, making both Satoru and Suguru choke, and you laughed, squealing when Satoru lifts you into his lap to bury his face into your back.

“You two are officially sickening to be around,” Suguru grimaces, still coughing from choking down his tea, “I think I liked it better when he was wasting away in his apartment,”

“You wasted away after I left?” You turn to look at Satoru, who shoots a glare at Suguru, “sorry Geto, that’s not happening again,” and Satoru softens his gaze, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving,” Suguru gets to his feet, as he glances back at you two, “don’t rush to get up, I’ll see myself out,” he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry we weren’t going to,” Satoru pulls you closer, and Suguru narrows his eyes, before his lips curl into a grin.

“Just for that, I’m sending your girlfriend a picture of the mess you looked like when she left,” Satoru gapes at him, while you bite back a laugh.

“Suguru!” Satoru calls, but the door’s shut, and you’re starting to giggle. He’s pouting now, “so my girlfriend thinks it's funny to see me in the pathetic state she left me in?”

“Oh your girlfriend finds it very funny, and she might even make it her boyfriend’s contact picture,” you smirk, and he’s biting back a smile, “What?”

“This is just the first time we called each other that,” he mumbles, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, “it’s nice,” he admits.

“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” you smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips, as he would again and again.

“My one and only.”

✧ a/n: so this fic was so freaking long. i'm sorry it took so long to post this - i got a little sidetracked by prof geto haha. but i'm hoping to start on the next one soon :). i think i'll put a poll up on which one i should write next! edit: forgot to tag the people who requested this, its now added in T_T

✧ taglist: @teatreeoilll, @intrxspectiv, @marvel-fanaticz, @ilovemybabes, @lwustyz, @jayathelostdragon, @vampzys, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @soilmayo, @iwassentfromhell, @lobotomy-kaisen, @gojoallmine, @forest-hashira, @h3artpiecexx, @lailarratx, @gummibat, @hanlay, @ilovewoo9, @nvmlolo, @h6avenly, @eriyvesa, @alexandraioann4, @eclipsephase, @sokkasmoon, @aizzon, @makotome9, @daddytojji, @fluffy-pancakes01, @imjustmememe, @spookyy-gracee, @forest-fruits-jam, @that-goth-bisexual, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @lookinreality,

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