Gojo Satoru X Reader | Oneshot Smut [18+]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this one.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up. 

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up to his ears, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

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.

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[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

taglist:

@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru

@aliidarling @ninjaturtletoes @lavender-hvze @lanadelreylover11 @chckn-pi

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

@nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf @badbclub @blackunecorn @geniejunn @n0tviv

@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Mostly Satoru Gojo x Reader)- It's a mess tbh lol- This chap also has Choso x reader (past)

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity. Abusive gaslighting Suguru. Yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Rough sex, obsessed behavior, heavy angst, most of this chap is angst, a fucked up, messy chapter. Cunnilingus (past relationship with choso)

CW: Attempted SA against MC at the end- HEAVY CHAP ooc for Suguru (He's awful)

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 12k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 4 - Masterlist

Chapter 5

Suguru’s fists clench and unclench as you watch in horror, as Satoru says the one thing you know will push Suguru over the edge.

“You what!?” Suguru demands, snatching Satoru up by throat then, and Satoru smirks even as Suguru’s fist smashes into his pretty face.

“Suguru, stop!” You shout, running up then, trying to yank your huge ex boyfriend off your- what was Satoru!?- your… yeah. Satoru.

“It’s fine, baby, let him have his fun.” Satoru’s words are so easy going, as if his nose wasn’t dripping blood. Suguru scowls back at you over a shoulder, as you’re trying to pry stupidly strong muscles off Satoru’s body.

“Suguru, I came here. He didn’t drag me. It’s on me, be mad at me.” He scowls even deeper, as Satoru is grinning, like he’s fucking won.

“You let him cum in you?” He demands, and you feel ashamed, but only for a moment.

“You cum in Shoko?” Satoru asks, laughing when Suguru turns his attention down to him. “That’s all this is, you’re so mad I fucked her back in college. Can you get the fuck over it?”

“You knew how I felt.” He punches Satoru again, and you start to realize how far beyond you this was.

“So ya had to hit on her when I told you I saw her… ow fuck… at the damn bar huh?” Satoru flips his position now, holding Suguru in a headlock, and you blink in confusion at the words.

“You said she was hot as fuck, that meant I couldn’t hit on her?” Suguru’s words are strangled, Satoru is choking the ever living shit out of him, as you watch in a mix of horror and confusion.

“Who?” You ask, and Satoru’s bright blue eyes drink you in, as Suguru struggles in his hold.

“I saw you first.” He says, then suddenly he’s flipped back over, and Suguru’s over him, and Satoru’s the one in the head lock, struggling, pale skin turning red from how tight Suguru squeezed.

“You saw her, so the fuck what!?”

“When… When did you see me?” You ask softly, Suguru eases up for a moment, chocolate eyes not daring to look at you. Satoru coughs up a bit, now a droplet of blood is dripping down his lips.

“I told him I saw you working, and how gorgeous you were.” Your heart stops then, at his words. How!? How could Satoru have seen you and… “I was too…” He coughs again. “Scared to hit on you. So I told Suguru.”

“I just went to see her, I didn’t intend to have a connection. You act as if you had some fucking claim.” Suguru grunts out, and Satoru smirks over at him, as you try to process both of their words, as the masculinity raised way too high in this damn room, both of them still furious.

“You did it to get me back. You know I never talk about women, when have I fucking ever!?” Your heart is thudding in your chest so hard you think it will just pound right out of it, your throat tightening.

Satoru saw you first?

Suguru came on to you to get to him!?

Were you some fucking game to him?

“You’re so dramatic. I just wanted to see her too. Then I… clearly fucking fell for her.” Suguru says, but Satoru laughs, earning another punch, the sound of his fist connecting is sickening to your ears.

“Nah, you haven’t. You’d have never needed anyone.”

“So monogamy is the only form of love?”

“Didn’t say that, but your shit isn’t even poly, Sugu. It’s just one sided cheating.” Suguru scowls down at Gojo’s honest words, and you tense, expecting another hit, only for him to laugh then, grinning down at Satoru.

“You came in her, huh?” Suguru says, making you flush, wanting to get sucked in a goddamn hole. You hadn’t wanted Sugu to cum in you, and that was awful, wasn’t it? But Satoru?

Yeah you craved it.

“Sure did, Sugu. Her pussy milked it for all too.” Suguru’s red to the tips of his ears, as he holds Satoru down, pinning him to the grown, thighs straddling him. Satoru’s smirk dies soon though.

“That’s nice. But guess who took her virginity?”

The room is silent, like it’s taking a breath, and your heart constricts in your chest, as Satoru’s face drops, as his eyes look at you then, darker blue than you’d ever seen, pupils so dilated, his lips in a stern line. You feel mortified, that Suguru would share this, that Satoru looked so hurt, fuck he’d seen you first!?

“You. What. Now.” Satoru says quietly, and Suguru grins, leaning up, yanking out the pony tail that’s half out of his hair.

“Sure did. She’d not been with a man. She’s twenty four you know, so of course I showed her. You know, her first time? It was really good for her, don’t worry. Took my time with every-”

Satoru punches him so hard Suguru falls right off him, and then Satoru is the one straddling his best friend’s lap, as you continue to watch this fucking train wreck. God you couldn’t look away, as much as you wanted to, not when they were fighinng because of you, not when you could feel Satoru’s pure rage, not when Suguru shared something so personal.

“No way she was a virgin. You’re saying this to-”

“She was. Weren’t you, Princess?” You earn both of their eyes on you, and you gulp, as you feel a mix of embarrassment and disgust at the display.

“I was a virgin.” You murmur softly, and as Suguru chuckles, Satoru rages, punching him so hard you hear a sickening crack. “Satoru, I didn’t… I just wasn’t experienced. Please, stop… both of you. I’m not worth it.”

Your quiet words pause them for a moment, as Suguru takes your form in, slowly, all you’re wearing is Satoru’s shirt, you notice then. Messy, wavy hair with no makeup, Suguru hadn’t even seen you like this. You hadn’t felt comfortable enough not to have on some waterproof mascara, something. You wore lingerie for him. But now? You just look so…

“You took her virginity to get at me? What kind of sick fuck have you become, Suguru? What the fuck!” Satoru’s furious words bring you back to focus, as he punches Suguru right in the ribs, only for Suguru to take the top position again.

“Took her- ah- virginity because she’s hot. Idiot.” Your heart shatters, more than it had before. Suguru never had a fucking feeling for you, did he?

You were an idiot.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Satoru’s terse statement sends shivers down your spine, and you rush over to them, kneeling and touching Satoru’s arm, bringing his feral blue gaze to yours.

“Satoru, please. Enough.” You whisper, and you seem to break through to him, as he looks back down at Suguru. Both of them are bloody and bruising, panting and out of breath. “Suguru, I’m sorry I came here. It’s on me, though.”

“No, he manipulated you. I know what he does.”

“I never manipulated her, or Shoko, fuck she was just drunk and so was I. We didn’t even like it! Why can’t you let it go!?” His voice is so emotional it crushes you, as you clearly see you were always just a pawn in a game, for Suguru. It makes your skin crawl, as you remember him taking your virginity.

“Are you sure you’re ready, Princess?” He’d asked, so sweet and caring, and you nervously nod, clinging to his shoulders, eyes shooting up to his.

“I can’t do this if you don’t feel something back, Sugu. I’m so sorry if that’s corny, but I am… this is my first time.” Suguru pauses, his lips parting, then he nods, brushing your hair back gently.

“I’ll make it perfect, I promise. How couldn’t I feel something? You’re so beautiful, so sweet. I’ll make it so special.” He cooes at you, and you melt under him, under his handsome face and his gorgeous, lidded eyes. You gasp as his tip slides between your folds, something you’d never felt.

“Suguru…” You whisper, his lips capture yours then, so passionate like nothing you’d ever had, and all those worries are whisked away as he plays with you, as he touches you, as he kisses you. You’re wetter and wetter under his expert touch, as he takes you over.

“I’ll make it perfect.” He says again, then he’s sliding into you, making you gasp.

He did all that, and he didn’t ever care, fuck he did this to upset Satoru Gojo? You were nothing to him. Nothing.

You barely register that tears are pouring down your cheeks until they both are paused, looking at you now, Suguru looks actually resigned for just a moment, and Satoru looks infuriated. His gaze was psychotic, as if he’s on the cusp of doing something insane. All while you’re sobbing in front of them, unwillingly, unsure how to turn the tears off.

“You didn’t feel anything did you? You lied.” You sob out, looking right at Suguru, and Satoru finally lets him up, turning around, running his hands through his silken white hair, as Suguru sits up, holding his stomach, shaking his head.

“I did feel things. I didn’t lie.”

“Feel what, anger at Satoru? I get you didn’t know me, but my virginity was important to me. I really thought you-”

“If it was so important why so quick?” You gasp then, and back away, only for Suguru to clench his jaw, closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just mean, if you waited so long, why-”

“You really made me feel pretty, special. I thought… the way you treated me I thought you felt something.” You speak through tears, and shudder as Satoru punches his own wall, loudly then, not looking back at you.

“I did, Princess. I’m just angry.” Suguru sits up, cupping your face, but you tense, disgusted at the touch suddenly. “I fucked you because I wanted to. Not because of Satoru. I swear, why wouldn’t I? You’re gorgeous.”

“That was it, just my looks! You made it seem…”

“I mean I feel more now. It was too soon. I swear I felt something.” He holds your cheeks, and you shiver, you feel waves of nausea roll over you as you think of how manipulated you had been, as everything you ever thought comes crashing down. You hear Satoru sobbing and it crushes you.

“You did this all as a game. You think I didn’t have feelings, that it wasn’t special to me?” You swipe your tears away, choking on your sobs. “I kept it for something special, and you made me think it was.”

“It was. It was. I swear. You’re letting Satoru-”

“Just go, please. Just go. I can’t take anymore!” You stand up then, sobbing so hard you can barely control it, as the world shatters on you. Even after his cheating with Shoko, you hadn’t believed he started this all as a manipulation.

“Princess-”

“My virginity wasn’t a game! Or revenge!” You shove at him, smacking his hands away as he tries to grab at your shoulders. “It meant something. I can’t just get it back. You took that from me.”

Suguru has the grace to look resigned, his eyes shooting down to his own feet, his brows together, fists that are red clenching at his sides. “I do feel things for you, it wasn’t just pretending.”

“You took it under false pretenses.”

“I… I feel things. I swear I do. I’ll forgive all of this.” He takes your shoulders again, but you jerk away, shaking your head. Suguru glares now. “You think Satoru is honest, loyal? You’re in for disappointment.”

“I just wanted something real. I should have known, it was all too perfect, your words, everything. Like some performance but with my actual life.” You’re shaking from how hard you’re sobbing, Satoru’s hand is gripping the ledge of the fireplace, he won’t even look back, won’t say anything.

“It wasn’t a game. You’re falling for it, for him.” You scowl at his words then, as you look at Satotu’s well muscled back, at how tense he is.

“You should go see Shoko.”

Suguru glares, mouth thinning. “It was just play, she didn’t even feel like…”

“Oh so that’s it! She turned you down. So you’re left with me?”

“No! Fuck you’re frustrating.” He grips you bruisingly then, shoving you against a wall, and Satoru’s on you in a moment, shoving him off, glaring.

“Get out, Sugu. You’re not thinking clearly.” Satoru says, standing in front of you, Suguru’s eyes narrow.

“I’d never hurt a woman. I just…”

“Go. Just go, please.” You whisper, hands on Satoru’s back, and Suguru laughs darkly, giving you chills.

“You had no feelings if you could so easily go be with my best friend. Maybe you’re the one full of-”

“Go home.” Satoru says, cutting him off, and Suguru finally stomps out, slamming the door, soon you hear the rev of his sports car, and you’re shaking against him, clinging to his strong back, tears hot and sticky on his sweaty skin.

It’s silent for a moment, until Satoru turns to you, looking down at your face, and his eyes are furious, an insane blue you haven’t even seen, swollen in places from Suguru’s brutal fists. They’re so bright you have to blink rapidly, as his full lips part, and he’s shaking, his hands on the wall on either side of you.

“He took your virginity!?” You tense, looking down, feeling so fucking confused you can’t even process how you truly feel. You just nod. “It should have been me.”

“I… Satoru, I hadn't met you yet.” You whisper, blinking through a fresh set of tears, as he’s huffing over you. “Why didn’t you say… hi?”

He laughs, without humor, not meeting his beautiful eyes. “Why? Because you were so beautiful I couldn’t think. And yeah, I fuck pretty women. But you’re so goddamn gorgeous I was reduced to being some high school idiot. How could those loser men even get a drink from you!?”

His words eat you alive, your hands slide up his bare chest, his beautiful body, and you watch his abdomen contract from the touch. You struggle to form the correct words, licking your lower lip, sighing. “Satoru, I wish you did.”

It’s silent, as if the entire living room takes a breath it's been holding. You look at his bleeding lip, at his bruising and swollen cheek, and you hate it, you hate that you caused it. You gingerly touch his cheek, making him hiss. “You wish I met you first?”

“Satoru, if you had… I’d have been on my knees.” He gasps, at your stupidly vulnerable words, and you expect him to make fun of them, tease you, but he just stares at you, grip tightening on your waist.

“I’d have been on my knees.” He whispers, then he’s shoving up his shirt you wore, groaning as he slides two fingers in you, stretching you so much you cry out in pain at it. “I should have been the first.”

“Satoru…”

“It should have been me. The first. Me.” He grunts, then suddenly he’s picked you up, and your legs wrap around his hips, he’s kissing you, his blood tasting like iron on your lips,desperately, and your arms wrap around his neck, crying with him. “How were you a virgin!?”

“I never… I wanted it to be special.” You’re sobbing again, and he’s crying too, pretty tears glistening down perfect cheeks.

“I didn’t know, but now!? I’m so fucking…” He growls then, and he’s shoving his cock out of his sweats, blue eyes locked on yours furiously, then his cock is all the way inside you, and you scream out in pain at the stretch. “It should have been me.”

“Satoru… ah fuck, it hurts!” He scowls down at you, sliding out, you hiss a bit, but then he’s deep inside again, all eight plus inches snug in your cunt, hitting your cervix, and damn if you’re not soaking to accommodate.

“It should have been me.” He repeats again, and then he’s cupping your face with one hand, lips hovering, and you gasp for a breath, so full you can’t take it. “I saw you first.”

“Satoru…”

He’s fucking into you now, and your head falls back in pleasure, slamming into the wall, he won’t stop his relentless thrusts, as they bring you higher and higher, until you can’t function. You’re clinging to him tightly, as he kisses you over and over, blood all over your mouth. It should bother you but you don’t even care, you crave more and more of his hard cock, of his brutal, messy kisses.

“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget it.” He says, desperate now, and you just whine out, eyes fluttering shut, as he fucks you brutally againt the wall, your cunt is so wet it’s sloppy, you hear it echoing in the room along with the thudding of your back, brusingly against the wall. “Should’ve been… me. Say it.”

“You, you Satoru.” You whimper the words, and he’s groaning, pressing his bloody lips on yours and shoving his cock into your cervix, you’re screaming as an orgasm hits so hard it wrecks you. You can’t even think, your sore little cunt pounded by a furious Satoru Gojo, you can’t form a word, your brain is stupid, stupid.

Satoru’s gripping you so tightly with those big hands, his desperate breaths hot on you, and you’re twitching as you cum, as he’s groaning, white eyelashes fluttering shut at how good you feel. “Say it again. Say it, fucking brat. I need… it…”

“Should have been you.” You say again, then he’s gripping you so tight you can’t breathe, shoving his thick cock deep and brutal, until you’re cumming again. He bites your delicate throat, groaning out against it, and you can do nothing but soak his cock, boneless in his grasp.

“Me, me, me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He’s whispering like it’s some fucking mantra, as he chases his own release, pumping you so full, white hot ropes of cum burning hot in your little hole. You’re twitching, pulsing around his cock, as it throbs inside of you. “Oh my fucking god. Fuck.”

“F-fuck, Toru I- ah!” You’re cumming just from that hot load, and he captures your lips in his, hungry, feral and desperate. And you fall into him.

You fall for him.

You’re sore, aching, throbbing… you’ve never done this much fucking in the short few months you’ve been sexually active, and fuck if you’ve ever done it so many times in a twenty four hour span. Satoru is pushing inside of you, oversenstiive as you swipe the tears from his pretty face, as his labored breaths are hot against your lips, and your eyes lock.

Should it have been him?

Had some choice been taken away from both of you?

Gojo’s POV

Your gentle fingers brush his tears away, as he’s still nestled inside your tiny little hole, the one he knows he didn’t prep, but you took it anyway, you sucked him right in. He sees the lines between your brows of pain, physical and mental, as his own head throbs with the force of Suguru’s hits. Your beautiful eyes glisten with a fresh set of tears, as streaks run red down your face.

Satoru’s heart is thudding in his chest, with rage, with anguish, with the need and desire for you, for every bit of you. He holds you in his arms still, hands firm on those thighs, feeling your muscles tensing, your legs twitching with aftershocks, he presses his fingers in, gripping even tighter, as your eyes lock.

Satoru should have been your first.

Not just because he wants to claim you, and of course he fucking does, he wants you more than anyone has ever wanted someone. He knows it, this all consuming need, that drives him insane, but now he wishes he was for a different reason. For the anguish in your voice when you learned Suguru hadn’t been in love, or at the very least had feelings.

He heard it in your sobs, as he took something so special from you, something he’d never shared with Satoru. Satoru wouldn’t have been able to handle it. He knew Suguru was still getting back at him, but this was a step too far, and he doesn’t know how to justify his best friend, not when he’s hurt you so much.

Why couldn’t Satoru have just spoken to you!?

“S-Satoru… I’m really- mnh- sore. Can I…” You whimper a bit, and he realizes how badly you must hurt, you’re small down there and he’s fucked the shit out of you, several times in twenty four hours.

But he can’t control himself, he could fuck into you again, he’s already got blood pumping to his cock, as he looks at your gorgeous face, the one that haunts his every dream. Haunts his every waking moment, staring at such perfection and having wished it could be his. And now, here you were, taking him so good, little nails clinging to his bare neck.

“Can’t handle good dick huh?” He says gruffly, he wants to just say how he’s sorry that he’s hurt you, but he still is a goddamn idiot, and terrified of the overwhelming feelings.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You clearly know I’m inexperienced now. So no, I can’t handle this much, especially… no prep.” You’re flushed, all over your face, your throat, as you speak, and he sighs.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking just then.” He eases out, as you blink in surprise at him, and he helps you down on wobbly legs. “Did I hurt you?”

“Um, a bit but it’s okay. Just more… sore than anything. I still really liked it, I promise.” You reassure him, does he deserve this though? Does he deserve anything about you?

Satoru gently caresses your hair out of the way, tucking it behind your ears, brushing his hands down your face softly. “I was furious. I didn’t know.”

Your eyelashes swoop low over your eyes, casting shadows down your face, and he watches you nervously bite that lower lip. You are trying to slow your breathing, your shaky hands gently holding his wrists. “I guess he was hurt by what you said and wanted to hurt you, too. This is all my fault-”

“No the fuck it’s not.” He speaks through gritted teeth, shoving you against that wall, the one his friend had, but you don’t seem afraid of Satoru, no you look up at him with pure desire. And something more. Something he shouldn’t hope for. “I’m fucking sorry he did that.”

Your tears flow again, and you swipe at them with the back of your hand, narrow shoulders heaving with the labor of holding in your sobs. “It wasn’t your fault, either.”

“Wasn’t it!? Wasn’t it? It’s all because-”

“No! You don’t give him excuses! So what if something happened, it doesn’t give him a right to do all of this. You give him such leeway and tear yourself down.” You’re shoving at him, and your words hit him slowly, as he realizes what he has been excusing, allowing. He gulps, looking down.

“He was right, I have never been a loyal boyfriend.” You watch him with your chest heaving, now your little nose is all red, as you rub it again, before burying your face against his chest.

“I don’t care how you were. And we’re not dating obviously, but I appreciate you being honest about it.”

“You’re too fucking good for me. You know you’re too good for both of us, right?” You shake your head, and he holds you closer, wincing at his sore ribs. Suguru may have cracked one.

“If you were… would you be loyal?”

“Yes.” He says without hesitation. “If you were mine I would never look at anyone ever again. I already have trouble seeing anyone but you.” His vulnerable words make you gasp, as you look up at him longingly. “Hate you so much, it takes so much effort you know.”

You giggle then, and he just glares, but inwardly he loves that laugh, he loves your cute little smile, the way your nose scrunches, the way your eyes crinkle just a bit at the corners. Fuck, it lights up your beautiful face, and he should tell you that, but he can’t… he is so afraid… he hates himself. He hates you. He hates what you’re making him feel.

After so long of feeling nothing, you make him feel despair, anger, longing, desire, at times joy, and most importantly…

Love.

Is that what this gnawing, clawing feeling in his chest its? Love?

He felt it when he first saw you, surrounded by a sea of men and women, who seemed to hit on you equally. Fuck you’d been wearing this little pink crop top that hugged your breasts perfectly, a black choker to break up the endless pink, and a pink skirt with ribbons down the front. Your body was ridiculously hot, and you flaunted it too.

It’s why he never thought you insecure.

You were a mix of girly and goth, both two types of women he didn’t go for. You were a short little brat. You were young, and not just age wise, you were bright and cheery, giggly and bubbly. It had disgusted him, how happy you were, Satoru typically had a list of arm candy women on xanax and zoloft, stuck with old husbands and needing his dick, that’s what he was used to.

Not you.

Had he not noticed the times you’d frowned, looked lost, sighed, your shoulders slumping? Had he just thought you flirtatious, perhaps a bimbo if he’s honest, that was the vibes you gave. But you’re deep, intelligent, thoughtful, he constantly sees how much you care, how much you are thinking, how you analyze him.

How hard you tried when he was awful to you.

When he said the worst things. The most untrue things. All because he couldn’t handle seeing Suguru with you. All because he wanted you, decked out in pink everything, on his arm, giggling. It had eaten him alive. But now, here you are, and you’re in his shirt, and your face is bare, and you’re vulnerable, you’re wide open, clear as crystal glass.

Could Satoru open up? He’s so afraid to disappoint you.

“Satoru, please let me clean this up. And get some ice for this.” You murmur softly, fingers hovering over his face. He nods a bit, he’d usually argue with you or make some… comment, but he wants you to take care of him.

Fuck.

“All right, Nurse.” He teases, and you smile just a bit, corners of those lush lips pulling up, brightening his life. “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

Satoru guides you to the bathroom, and grabs the first aid kit out of his cabinet, and hands it to you. You start taking out gauze, neosporin, antiseptic… you seem to know what you’re doing, he notices, as you look at him, and he sits on the edge of the bathtub so you can actually reach his face.

You take a washcloth first, rinsing it with cold water, then you gently dab his face with the cool towel, and he watches you, the way your eyes never leave his face, the way your hands are so tender and soft, as he inhales your scent, as you stand in between his spread thighs. His fingers itch to hold you, his mouth aches to tell you how much you mean to him.

Even if you don’t even know him yet, do you?

The tension is palpable in the bathroom as you both pretend like you’re not both thinking about what just happened. How Satoru had claimed you so thoroughly, how you gave in so easily, even though he didn’t prep you, even though he hurt you, even though he shouldn’t have. And you’re not even upset, it was as if you wanted it, the way you came so hard around him.

Was it still trickling out of your tight little cunt, he wonders, looking at your chest now, hidden under his shirt, but he watches nipples perk up when he gently rests two hands on the jut of your hips. He doesn’t do anything else, as you’re cleaning the cut above his eyebrow, but that touch alone sends shockwaves through both of you. You’re biting that lower lip, suppressing a cry.

You’re focused on taking care of him.

You bend over, hands shaking a bit as you pull out the neosporin and the band aids. Satoru watches your every move, as you dab the antiseptic on his cuts, the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the way your lips press into a thin line. Your sweet breath rushes over his face, you fill his every sense, as you take care of him, in a way he’s not sure he deserves.

Satoru Gojo feels something inside him, something tightening in his throat, something warm spreading through his chest as you work on him. It’s like you’re not just fixing his face, but fixing him, with each careful dab of a cotton ball, with each breath you take. Neither of you even speak, you don’t have to, you speak so beautifully with each touch, each movement.

Could you fix him? Was he too fucked for this?

Even now, all he can think about is sliding back inside that tight cunt, but first he’d finger his own cum out of you, he’d lavish the taste of both of you up on his tongue, softly, sweetly, until you’re begging for him again. Fuck Satoru hadn’t even been gentle with you, he’d gone easy here and there, but he’d not made love to you, not like you deserve.

If he did he’d be completely ruined, he’s already so far gone now, all he can think about is claiming you, making you his in every way. He’d put babies in that flat tummy, fill it up round with him, he’d tell you to stop working, he’d keep you home and take care of you, and lick that cunt every goddamn day if you let him. He’d pump you so full of cum you couldn’t leave.

His thoughts consume him, and you wince, making him realize he’s pressing his fingers harshly into your hipbones, he eases up just a bit, blinking and looking up at you, still meticulously caring for his face. Now you move to his chest, with your cool, soft hands, brushing little bits of antiseptic here and there.

When you’re done, he swallows, his throat dry, and he has nothing snarky to say, he has nothing mean to say, to pretend with you. No, he’s too enthralled in you, in everything about you, his heart is hurting so goddamn much, his cock is already hard under his sweats, he’s consumed by you.

It’s all you.

“Thank you.” He manages to say, and the surprise on your pretty face says it all, your lips parted, your eyebrows high with shock.

He says nothing further, either, he just slides his hands off your hips now, to run down the soft stomach he wants to fill, feeling it tremble under his touch, before those hands land on your thighs, brushing little circles. Satoru hadn’t been very gentle with you, had he? Not in any way, but you respond the same, whether he’s choking that pretty throat, or he’s brushing a delicate touch.

You want him, clear as day.

Now you ease a bit, exhaling, and you start kissing every bruise you see on his chest, feather light touches of perfect lips setting his skin on fire, and he’s helpless to it, all he can do is sigh in pleasure, gripping your waist tightly. You’re not doing it sexually, you’re being sweet, caring, considerate, as if you want to erase the hurt, and fuck if you don’t actually do that.

Satoru would take any pain for you.

Your POV

Satoru thanked you. He thanked you, with no other comments, with nothing sexual, no he thanked you softly, his big blue eyes so vulnerable then that they broke you, broke your fucking heart. The tension you feel as you’re between his long legs, as his huge hands take over your waist, as you feel his cool breath against your cheek, as you kiss his skin…

It’s insane, what’s left unspoken, fuck only two words have been said as you’ve worked over him, cleaning him up the best you can. Two words that make everything hazy, the husky tone they’d been spoken with. Fuck if it doesn’t take over everything that you are, fuck if you don’t love standing over him, feeling him so vulnerable, so raw and real with you for once.

Your heart aches.

Your pulse flutters.

Your pussy throbs.

All for Satoru Gojo.

You swallow now, heart racing, and you kiss his forehead sweetly, something you had ached to do, hands gently holding his broad shoulders. Fuck if you didn’t wanna make it all better, if you didn’t wanna fill this void he so clearly has, to make him feel so much more than pain. Could you?

“You’re welcome, Toru.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath, and he reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip softly. The gesture is gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier actions, and it sends a tremble down your spine.

His bright blue gaze locks onto yours as you brush his snowy white hair back, and it’s like he’s searching, pleading for something unspoken. Fuck, you want to give him anything when he looks at you like that, when his usually tense, sculped features get soft for just this moment. He looks youthful, not that Satoru didn’t look stupidly young, but it was this… softness to him.

You want to be the one to make him feel whole, to fill the gaping hole in his chest that he tries so hard to hide, but fuck if you don’t want him to fill that hole in you now, the chasm that has grown deeper. But do you know each other? Are you just going to get burned again, like you had with Suguru?

The difference is, he’s real, he’s so real with you. He’s not pretending, he’s not whispering sweet words in your ear, if anything you feel him actively holding back. You both just stare at each other, it should be awkward, right this silence? But it’s not at all, you both don’t need to speak.

You lean in, your lips brushing his, tentatively at first, then with more pressure, as if you’re trying to memorize the feel of him, the taste of him, afraid of how long it would even happen. These kisses that consume you, the ones that left blood on your mouth earlier, and you hadn’t cared, no you wanted more. You could not get enough of his kisses, especially these softer, newer ones.

Satoru’s hand slides around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. It’s messy, needy, full of desperation and longing, and you can feel it, the heat of his desire, the way his tongue sweeps into your mouth like he’s trying to claim every part of you. And you want to be claimed, you want to be his, you wish so badly he had been your first in every way.

You wish he’d just said hello to you.

You wish you met the real Satoru Gojo, and not this dark, guarded version of him, not the mean version of before, but you would take him like this, fuck you’d take him mean, if it meant you could feel this forever. This consuming need to be claimed fully by him, you throw any sense of feminism out the fucking window for him.

He fills your void, the deep one that Suguru had caused, through his careless actions, the ones that clearly also hurt Satoru. It’s clear as day that the virginity comment had made him insane, as he’d roughly taken you on that wall, and damn if you weren’t still in pain, but you could go again, you would let him destroy you, if only that meant he’d touch you.

Look at you.

Hold you.

Kiss you like he is now. The kiss is broken only by the sound of your own moan, a soft little whine of pleasure that slips out as his hand slides down your body, cupping your bruised ass, reminding you of how he’d taken you so fiercely against the wall. It’s like a brand, a mark that says you’re his, and it makes you want him all over again, despite lingering pain.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” He whispers, leaning back and staring up at you, and you can feel his regret.

“It’s okay, Satoru. I’m okay.” You murmur, standing closer now. “I’m fine, really, you’re much more hurt than me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He blinks back emotion with snowy white lashes, and you shake your head, caressing his shoulders, hating how they’re bruising before your eyes.

“You didn’t. Promise. I’d go again.” He smirks finally, the serious moment dissipated for a moment.

“So slutty always for me, aren’t you?” His words send a pang of desire, resonating in every way through your sore body. You nod, shyly, and he huffs a bit, his chest heaving. “She needs a break, I really have been wrecking her.”

“Cocky little shit.” He chuckles, then gasps, holding his stomach, and you frown at that, concerned.

“Hospital maybe?”

“Nah fuck that. I have pain killers from back in the day getting some root canal thing, can you grab ‘em? Under the sink.” You bend back down, rummaging through prescriptions now.

“Root canal? Your teeth are so pretty.”

“I have a sweet tooth. Bad. Must be why I love tasting that pussy.” You’re blushing hard core, thighs shaking as you stay squatted down, and you peek over the cabinet at him, and his charming smirk.

“You’re too much. Swear.”

“I know baby that’s why it hurt you so bad.”

“Toru! Tell me what I’m looking for.”

“Should say percocet.” You find the bottle still relatively full, and pull it out, pouring one into your hand and handing it to him. He holds his hand out more. “Stingy nurse, gimme two.”

“Oh fine. Let me get some water.” You run to the kitchen, noticing the disarray of the clean house after Satoru’s fight, but you shake it off, running the fancy silver faucet and filling a glass for him. You come back and hand him it, but he just hands you the pills back. “What?”

“Give 'em to me, nurse.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head then. “What, let a hurt man enjoy a fantasy.”

“Oh fine, open up.” He opens his mouth, that tongue that does insane things to your body and psyche sticking out, and you pop a pill on there, white and oblong. “Close and drink.”

He does exactly as you order, while one of his hands grips your bruising ass tightly, making you feel a mix of desire and pain. Desire and pain, it was all you can think to describe what you’re feeling lately, what you feel for Satoru Gojo. In the brief moments where he’s like this, opening to you, you feel so much hope, but it’s also terrifying and new.

What is this between you both?

It can’t be fucking normal.

It’s tilted the entire world on its axis, as if you don’t have the same gravity anymore, it’s all being pulled towards him, like he’s this black hole and you’re just matter circling around it. Fuck if you don’t want to just get sucked into it, to let yourself dissappear in it.

“Next one.” You manage to say, and he opens again, you place it on his tongue, and then you hold the cool glass for him, condensation cool on your palm, as his full lips sit on the rim of the glass. “Only you can make drinking water hot.”

You just said that huh?

He chuckles at that, holding his ribs then, and his endless blue eyes stare up at you, fuck you’re so close, you can feel the energy humming through you both. He carefully kisses your lips, sighing against your mouth, one of his hands still over yours on the glass.

“Can you stay all day? I’ll make it up to this pussy for being mean.” He teases, and for once it’s so genuine, it’s like he’s truly asking you to stay, and fuck you want to, you want to never leave. You brush his hair back, your nails raking gently across his scalp, and he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

“I wish I could. Work, ugh. Tonight is a big night because of the holiday tomorrow, too, so I will make good money.” He frowns a bit.

“You like being a bartender?”

“I went to school for creative writing. So.”

“Ooh… the shit degree.”

You giggle at that, nodding. “It is not one that’s gonna do me any good. It’s pretty on my wall I guess. I am doing this in the hopes one day I have a book that hits it big, but I don’t have much time with working.”

“I didn’t know you wrote.” He says softly, and you nervously bite your lip, studying him carefully.

“It’s not like we ever got to know each other. Um… aside from physically now.” You murmur, feeling yourself heat up as he studies you. “Satoru, this sounds stupid but, wanna go on like… a date?”

He blinks then, and you feel you’ve gone too far, you’ve overstepped surely, you don’t even know if he-

“You asking me out, short stuff?” He pulls you against him, wincing at the pain on his chest, but he doesn’t let you pull back. You nod, tentatively. “Couldn’t wait for me to ask, huh?”

“I just think we owe it to ourselves to get to know each other. I mean clearly you know my body-”

“Perfect body.”

“Toru…” You’re melting, at those words from him, you struggle to remember what you were even thinking. “Thank you. But, like let’s go on one. If you want… if you just want it to be sex, I get it. But I think maybe we should try? Go ahead and laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, that shit hurts right now.” It’s your turn to laugh, earning a glare from him. “Okay, a date. When and where?”

“Can we go to a movie? Out to eat? Normal date things.”

“Boring.”

“What!”

“Mmm, I’ll plan it. And I’ll pick you up, can’t have you embarrass me in that terrible beetle of yours.” You glare back now, and he’s smirking so charming you can’t even stay mad at him. “Be nice to me and I’ll buy you a car.”

“What!? Crazy talk. Stop that. I make good money, not Satoru Gojo money but good enough.”

“Mmhmm. So get your little ass ready to leave, before I pay you triple what you make to let me fuck you all day.”

Fuck.

***

Satoru’s words linger in your mind that night, as you start your shift at the nightclub you work at, with your best friend Choso. Choso and you had been friends for a couple years now, both having the same shifts, he always protected you from rowdy drunk men, and you protected him from some of the thirsty girls.

Choso was gorgeous, tall, he had tattoos and piercings and dressed goth, a contrast to your bright pink, a clash of aesthetics. Women went crazy over him, and why not, he was beautiful. He was also quiet, smart and sweet. He'd even been the only man you'd had any experience with until now.

Six months ago

“Choso… um are you sure? You don't want me to do anything back?” You both closed the bar that night, and Choso shocked you, asking if he could eat you out. Out of nowhere. As a friend!?

“You look like you could use some relief, Barbie.” That was his nickname for you, the first time he met you he said it, and it stuck. “I’d be lying if I didn't say I'd love to give it to you. I can just finger you if you're uncomfy?” He's holding you, whispering in your ear, as he's gently caressing your pussy over your pink lace panties. You're soaking them under his touch.

“I've never really… I'm a virgin, Choso.” He pulls back, black brows raised, his lazy amethyst eyes drinking you in.

“A virgin? You…”

“I've been with a couple girls but we didn't go that far. Um. I've not done anything but kiss men.” He exhaled, blinking a bit and you gasp when he presses his lips on yours, he tastes so sweet, his lips pressure perfection. You grind your hips up eagerly.

“I was just going to please you, little Barbie, I wasn't going that far. I wouldn't do that, not in a relationship myself.” You exhale, running a hand around the back of his neck. Choso had his hair done up in pigtailed buns and fuck if he wasn't stupidly cute with them.

“I don't wanna ever ruin our friendship. You're so important to me.” He truly was, you all took care of each other, he was your Wednesday Addams to your Bianca Barclay. You'd held him as he cried over his breakup of someone he loved. He held you as you got rejected by your crush. You all watched movies and played video games. You love him to pieces.

“It won't, ever. Just let me take care of you, okay?” You nod eagerly, as you all stand in the break room of the eerily quiet bar, and then Choso is on his knees, looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes, asking for permission. 

“Yes, please. Um… tell me if I shaved good?” He laughs a bit, you can tell he's as nervous as you. Choso has only been with two girls from what he's said. He slides your panties down your thighs, exhaling as he sees you, and you go to close your thighs, so embarrassed, but he holds them firm, shaking his head.

“You're so beautiful down there. I promise.” You blink back emotion, then gasp when he kisses you there. “You missed a little.”

He spreads your lips open, looking inside, as your thighs are on his shoulders and you're now sitting on one of the chairs. You giggle. “Did I now?”

“Need me to shave you, barbie? What's a bestie for? Oh wait… this.” He flicks his tongue up your slit, and you cry out, back arching at how good it feels. “Getting the homie off.”

“Choso! Ah… oh my… Choso…” His tongue ring hits your exposed clit, and you're soaking his face at the sensation, as the ball of it flicks up and down the underside of your clit.

He's moaning as he sweetly drinks you up, as his tongue lavishes you up, his thick finger teasing your entrance, until it sinks in, and your wetness pours down his endless amount of black rings. He's doing things that you've never felt, and you're too wet. Too…

“Choso I'm sorry, I never get this… it's too messy.” He chuckles at that, looking up at you with that sexy face. Fuck he's your best friend what are you doing!?

“It's hot, I promise. I like how wet you are.” He murmurs and you're flushed, looking away for a moment.

“Promise you're eating me out as a friend?” He smirks, nodding, kissing you for a moment, and you taste yourself on him. “Can't lose you.”

“You won't. You're my best friend. And fuck if your pussy isn't the yummiest thing I've tasted. Can I continue Barbie?” He's smirking, his soft, quiet voice soothing as his finger slides back in, making you throb around it.

“Yes, please.” You cry out as he works a finger, hitting the little spot that you've not found yet, you see stars as his tongue ring is flicking your clit, and you're yanking his pigtails now, screaming out as he lazily pushes you over the edge.

He drinks you up, as a best friend of course, and you're grinding on his face, as a best friend.

“Ch-Choso! Best friend-ah- ever!”

Present day 

So you may have sucked his dick as a friend (well, well before you met Suguru of course) and he may have ate you out again, as a friend. Maybe a few times. But both of you never took it too far, and somehow you did stay friends, though of course things were a little different. You all never touched again after Suguru, you both had no problem just being friends again.

It was one of the things that made you think you could be poly with Suguru, being able to have fun but not have feelings exactly. But Suguru clearly had feelings for Shoko, and now you had feelings for Satoru, and all in a span of a couple days, you've been with two men at once, and you've had your heart crushed. But then… also there is blooming feelings for toxic, insane Satoru Gojo now.

Fuck.

When you met Suguru Geto, Choso hated him on sight, and you really weren't sure why. When Suguru asked you out, and you told him, as you always did, he's your best friend, he was tense. He'd been out smoking a cigarette as you'd both talked that night, and now his words make sense.

“Something not real about him, Barbie. And I want you to date, to be happy, I mean I'll miss tasting you-”

“Choso!”

He flicked his cigarette with black nails, smirking. “It'd never work with us Barbie. You're too pink.”

“And you're too emo. Gerard way of the modern era.”

“Just be careful. I can't place what it is. But if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass. Yeah?”

“Love you, Cho.” You kiss his cheek, and he hugs you with one arm.

“Love you, Barbie.”

“Promise he's a good guy. He makes me feel so beautiful and special.”

“Well good, you should. You are.” He taps your nose and pouts a bit.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just worried about you, Barbie. He seems experienced and you're not. You're younger too. Just take care of yourself with him.”

“That sounds so eerie to say, Cho.” He flicks his cigarette out, sighing and looking down at you.

“I hope I'm wrong.”

He wasn't wrong. Fuck he was so right, but he didn't even know one tenth of what was actually happening. Now he pinches your waist just a bit, giving you a soft smile before flipping a bottle in talented hands, to the oohs and ahhs of the ladies at the bar currently.

“How are you, Barbie? Everything okay?” He shouts over the loud music, blaring so loud it vibrates your body. You sigh, nodding. He frowns. “You’re lying.”

“I’ll talk about it later. Promise.” You put a hand on his strong shoulder, and he sighs too, nodding.

“You better.”

The shift is busy as fuck, brutal, as endless amount of drunk people come up and your wrist hurts from shaking drinks. You’re making bank though, many people are tipping, and certain men always tip well, chit chatting with you. You carry on as if everything is fine, brushing sweat from your brow and then luckily one of the girls who also works comes in.

“Take a break, love.” She says, and you smile gratefully. You step back to the break room, sliding exhausted into the chair there. Choso is in there before you know it, shutting the door behind him and sitting next to you.

“Hey Cho.” He smiles a bit, dark eyes taking in your exhaustion.

“Hey Barbie. Miss you. How's the boyfriend?”

“Ugh. That.” Choso blinks long black lashes at that, tilting his head curiously at you. “We’re done.”

“What? That’s so fast since you just said shit was perfect … you just said you loved this guy?”

You bury your face in your hands, grimacing. “He was so fake, like everything about him was some lie. Some game.”

“The poly stuff got confusing?”

“Shit, you could say that. So… okay we all played, I played with a guy too.” You’re blushing, and Choso smirks a little at you.

“Your body count is two now?”

“Oh gosh. Yeah.”

“You’re growing!”

“Hush.” You shove at him, giggling a bit at his wiggling brows. “Okay so he also brought a girl, but she’s his like high school/college love!?”

“What, why bring her then? That’s messy.”

“Yeah. And at about four am I heard them fucking.” Choso grimaces at that. “He was saying she was ‘the most perfect’ and he was supposed to be in bed with me.”

“Holy fuck, are you serious?”

“Mmhmm. So… well Cho, I fucked his best friend.”

Choso bursts into a throaty laughter, hand on his forehead as he studies you curiously. “What? My little Barbie is that savage?’

“Sure the fuck am. But I didn’t do it to get him back, it was… I don’t know, I really felt something with him. But, he’s kinda a psycho.”

“Is this the mean one? The asshole?” You nod, and he rolls his eyes, sinking his long body into the chair now. “You have shit taste, Barbie.”

“Hey, I sucked your cock you know. So.”

“Shit taste.”

You break out into laughter, and fuck it feels good, to talk to someone, after having been trapped in such an insane situation for the past forty-eight hours. Fuck your whole life has flipped upside down. Choso takes your hand then, brushing his rough thumbs gently on your knuckles, showing his support.

“What are you gonna do? Tell me you’re done with Suguru.”

“I’m done. You were right about-” The door opens then, and Suguru Geto walks in with the girl taking over for you. Choso stands, the chair screeching on the old wooden floorboards as he does, standing right in front of you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Choso’s protecting you from Suguru’s view, and you tense as you hear Suguru’s voice, hearing the girl skirting away. She couldn't know you all broke up.

“You fucking her too?” Choso walks up to Suguru then, yanking him by his fancy shirt, big and broad as he stands next to him, damn near bigger than Suguru. You stand up now too, earning Suguru’s dark gaze, his smirk.

“I’ve never had sex with her, but if I were lucky enough to, I wouldn't cheat on her, wouldn’t down her. Who the fuck do you think you are?” Choso speaks through gritted teeth now, and Suguru frowns at that.

“I came to talk, I’m sorry. You’re clearly in love, huh?”

“I swear to God-”

“Cho, it’s okay. I’ll talk to him.” You come to put a gentle little hand on Choso’s strong back, he turns to you and softens instantly, shaking his head though.

“No. Can’t let you alone. Don’t trust him.” Suguru holds up his hands.

“Just came to talk. She’ll be all yours in a few minutes.” Choso lets him go, then looks back to you, his full lips tense in a thin line.

“I’m right here if you need me, Barbie.” He pats your head and you hug him, smiling gratefully, before he shoulder checks Suguru, shutting the door behind him quietly, despite his clear anger.

Now you’re left with him, with Suguru Geto.

His face is a little swollen in places, and there’s a cut on his lip, but relatively he escaped the fight okay. He puts his hands in his pockets, looking down at you then, and his expression is unreadable. You feel uncomfortable with his gaze, with being alone, but you don’t show it, you stand tall, shoulders back, chin notched up.

“What is it, Suguru?” You ask softly, and he takes a couple steps to you, until your feet are almost touching.

“I came to talk some sense into you. I know you’re hurt, but you’ve now hurt me as well, and I just want to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix.”

“So are you aware your best friend loves you?” You roll your eyes, you hear this a lot, no one can seem to understand the bond you both have.

“We are best friends.”

“Never did anything?”

“We did before I met you. Nothing since. Unlike you, I abided by all of your stupid rules you never followed.” Suguru glares now, and he’s even closer, until you can feel his breath on your skin. What once excited you now turns you off.

“Satoru is always going for what I want, this is no different. Do you really think he wants you?” Suguru’s intent is clear, and it hits its mark, you feel it like a punch to the gut, like the air is sucked out of you.

“What… does that mean?” You manage to ask, and he smirks then, caressing your cheek and filling you with nausea.

“Look at where you work, what you drive, where you live. Do you think that is acceptable to someone like Satoru? The Gojo clan is the richest family in Tokyo.” His words hit hard, but you just shove them down, you don’t even know Gojo yet, and you have to give him that chance.

“You’re just upset, and want to hurt me more.” You murmur, and he chuckles, but it doesn’t reach those exhausted eyes. “Go home, get some sleep. Have you slept?”

“No, I haven’t, I can’t get my mind off you.” He’s leaning in too close now, so you stop him with hands to his chest, he looks down at them with a raised brow.

“You should have sucked it up and cuddled. Wouldn’t be here, would we, if you could keep your word.”

“You’re a lot more unforgiving than I thought.”

“Am I, Suguru? I let the first time with Shoko go, the ignoring me part, the clearly lusting after her part. I let the night with Satoru go. It wasn’t until you directly ruined every rule you ever made that I finally left. I’d say I’m pretty forgiving.” His brows go lower over his eyes, as his fists clench at his sides.

“Should I not have stared at or enjoyed Shoko?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You’re so narcissistic.” You snort in laughter at that.

“Me!? Me!” You can’t control the laughter, as you see he’s dead serious, projecting himself onto you as if that could work. “That’s rich, Suguru. Me, narcissistic, that’s such projection.”

“You so badly want to be the prettiest.” You shake your head, as his words try to stab at you, but you choke it down, stepping closer to him now.

“Not at all, but in a relationship you are supposed to feel that way, you are supposed to feel the most desired. It doesn’t mean other women aren’t beautiful, and I had no problem with the other girls and you. So you can say that all you want, but it’s false and you know it. Now, can you let me get to work?”

You go to push past him then, and he’s gripping your waist tightly, making you wince as his fingers dig in, and he’s looming over you, mouth on your ear. “Ah, was it the fact that I was too easy with you, too sweet? Did you need to be treated more like a slut like Satoru does?”

“Suguru, don’t… don’t please.” You whisper, and he chuckles, wrapping one arm around your waist and pinning your back on him.

“You’ll see Satoru isn’t loyal, that he doesn’t even care for you like that. You’re just a game to him.”

“Like I was to you!?” You bite out, scowling back up at him. Suguru’s hand grips your breast, as he pins your arms down with that arm.

“I did have feelings for you, even if it didn’t start that way.”

“You finally admit it. Let me go.”

“I admit it started that way, but then I did truly have feelings. And look how quickly you drop it all for Satoru? And I bet you’re fucking your friend. And I’d still want you, even so.”

“I’m not! And I don’t want you to want me. I want you to go.” You struggle in his hold now, and he’s nipping at your ear, tickling it in the worst way, as you keep wriggling until he’s moaning softly, making you freeze.

“When Satoru’s bored of you, when he finds someone prettier, skinnier, taller, richer than you…” You freeze completely, feeling tears start to gather in your eyes now, as he tries to hurt you, as he knows where. “He’ll leave so quickly. And then I won’t take you back, you’ll be too damaged then.”

Now you’re sobbing, as he hits every insecurity you have, as you feel the room enclosing on you, and he lets you go, but you don’t move, you can’t move. Stuck by all the memories, of your parents leaving you so young, of being a loner in school, finally getting popular but never being wealthy in a rich city, never really fitting in. Of finally feeling loved by the man behind you.

The man who wrecks it all.

He exhales, as he realizes what he’s done, and his hands slide down your body slowly. “I love your body, I love your face, I don’t care what you make. Just three days ago he told you you’re not up to caliber. What’s changed? Nothing, you’re still not, and you won’t ever be.”

You continue sobbing softly, as he cooes at you, as Suguru Geto thrives off making you feel small, pathetic, and it works.

Were you good enough for Gojo?

Were you good enough for anyone?

“Oh Princess, even though you’ve been a little whore, I’ll gladly take you back, I know it’s just because I hurt you.” He slinks around you, and you’re immobilized by your pain. He smirks at the tears in your eyes. “I wonder if his cum is still slipping out, bet you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Suguru… I’m sorry for that, but- ah!” He’s slid his hand up your skirt then, roughly yanking your panties to the side, and you panic then, trying to back away, only for him to pull you in a tight grip, slipping a thick finger inside you. “Don’t!”

“Ah, you’re always wet, aren’t you? A slut hmm? Maybe I should fuck his cum out of you, put my own in there.” You wriggle frantically then, as the thoughts of him doing this hit you, no he isn’t like that is he?

No way.

“Please stop. I know you’re mad, but stop. Or I’ll tell Satoru.” Suguru scowls then, letting you go, wiping your essence off on your own skirt then.

“Tell him what? Hmm?”

“That you’re touching me when I said no. Leave, now, go get sleep and try to be… less of a piece of shit.” You tremble everywhere as you speak, shoving at him, then Choso walks back in, and Suguru’s mood changes, his eyes change, his lips… then you realize it.

He plays people.

To hide himself.

“Ah, guess our talk is over, Princess.” He brushes your hair back, making you smack at his hand, and then he turns to face a furious Choso, though he didn’t know what happened, he was right here, and Suguru just looks at you. “You’ve got like three guys after you, huh?”

“I don’t fucking like you.” Choso says, plain as day, and you smile a bit at that, tremulously.

“I can tell. Bye Princess. See you soon.” At that Suguru saunters out, and you nearly collapse, if not for Choso grabbing you.

“What happened? Please tell me. I’ll kill him if he-”

“Could you just hug me?” You whisper, and he gulps, nodding, wrapping you in his warm embrace, as you start to break out in tears.

What just fucking happened?

What had he…

“Please tell me, please. I’ll protect you.” Choso murmurs, and you hear the emotion in his voice. “You’ll always be my best friend, no matter what. Let me take care of you.”

“Oh, Cho… I… I…” You can’t speak, you can’t function, as he pats your back, and you don’t know if you can tell your best friend, you don’t know if you can tell anyone, you don’t even know if you’re good enough.

Did you deserve that?

“Barbie… please talk. Let me take you home?”

“Um… yes. Please.” Choso leaves for a moment, to gather both of your things and tell the boss, and your mind is blank, your heart is shattered, you can’t even compute what Suguru had just done. How he’d touched you. The cruel things he had said to you.

The horrible way they make you feel.

Your phone buzzes on the table, and with shaky hands you pick it up. You see it’s Satoru, and you exhale, at least it was not Suguru, but how could you tell him, would you even tell him, should you? Crush his hopes about his best friend, who had just touched you when you’d said not to.

Toru: Everything okay tonight? Miss telling you I hate you.

You manage a watery smile at that.

You: Bad night. I’m heading home early. I’ll talk tomorrow.

Toru: Do you need to come here?

You: No. I’m okay.

Toru: Fuck will you tell me you get home safe? So that I know I can tell you I hate you tomorrow?

Does Satoru care? You think so.

You: Yes, I will.

You set the phone down, and soon Choso is taking you home, quiet, giving you space, and you’re looking out the window, your hand hanging out gently, feeling the air pour between your fingers. You knew Suguru was just angry, but him touching you like that made you feel disgusting, and you can’t wait to wash it off.

How could you ever be with Satoru?

How, if that is his best friend? 

Would he leave you alone?

“Barbie… you can tell me anything you know.” Choso says, and you lean close to him, head on his shoulder for a moment.

“Thank you, Cho. Can I rest a minute?” He nods, and you do just that, for just a moment you shut your eyes, as the car zips through the street, as the wind blows through.

Could you tell him?

Could you tell anyone?

Suguru’s words won’t stop ringing in your head.

How would any of this be okay?

This was a rough one!!!! <3

Ao3: (I think it's back up lol)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

---

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, breeding kink, violence, descriptions of violence (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.5k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Chapter 10

The escort agency is in a sketchy part of the city, and Satoru keeps looking at you worriedly that evening. “I’m fine, Professor.”

“You sure? I can take you back-”

“I’m good, promise! You should see the foster homes I was in. This isn’t anything to me.” He frowns more now, and you all pause on the sidewalk, you can feel the tension, the worry.

“I hate that you ever went through that, baby.” He whispers now, caressing your face sweetly. You gulp a bit, sighing and holding the hand that’s so gentle on your cheek.

“It’s all gotten me here, next to the best lawyer there is. The most handsome too. The best-” Satoru closes your mouth with his hand, and you smile against his warm palm.

“Don’t get me hard, brat, stop it.” You’re giggling now, making him glare at you, long white lashes covering half of his pretty blue eyes.

“Sorry, you’re so cute.”

“Cute!? I’ll show you ‘cute’ later.” He kisses you firmly, lips overtaking yours, and you sigh at how good it feels for a moment, before he takes your hand. “Let’s go, Miss Brat. Lawyer mode.”

“Did you really say lawyer mode!?”

When you get there, dragged along by the stupidly tall and stupidly handsome Satoru Gojo, who’s wearing a black suit looking way too good, the bouncer at the door nods at Satoru, letting you both in without a word. You look at him curiously, and he peeks back with a smirk.

“Paid informants silly, never partook in the goods here.” You roll your eyes at his wolfish grin. “Jealous already?”

“Shush.” The inside is dimly lit, with red velvet couches and a bar along the back wall, and there is a woman sitting in a little booth. The woman looks up, and you can see the recognition in her eyes when she sees Satoru. She’s very pretty, with long red hair and green eyes.

“Mr. Gojo, wow it's been years. And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks, her voice a purr as she smiles curiously at you.

Satoru’s grip on your hand tightens, and you can feel his possessiveness, and his reassurance. “Hey Aoi.” He introduces you now, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Favorite student.”

“Oh! Oh… Mr. Gojo.” She’s laughing now a bit, wiggling her brows as Satoru grins, and you’re a blushing mess. “Hey now, doll no worries. Who can blame you with him? And also you’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, so are you Miss Aoi.” You say, flush decorating your cheeks, and she smiles softly.

“And she’s so sweet. All right, I’ll put aside my broken heart for her, Mr. Gojo. How can I help you today?”

“I break all the hearts, don’t I? I’m too pretty.”

“Gojo!” You playfully shove him and he just brushes his snowy white hair back with long fingers, winking down at you so damn charmingly.

“Came to see one of your girls, and Madam.”

“Let me see if she’s available.” She is gesturing to the plush sofa in the waiting area. "Please, have a seat, you two. I'll inform the Madam about your arrival."

Satoru nods then, as he guides you to the couch. “Thanks Aoi.” You sit down, your heart racing at being somewhere so new, so different. The walls are adorned with velvet and the air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume, so cloying it irritates your nose a bit.

As you wait, you feel Satoru's hand squeeze yours reassuringly. You look up at him, and he gives you a smile that's a mix of comfort and challenge, as he pulls you against him, hand on your thigh. You lower your lashes, and feel his chuckle against your collar bone, tickling you now.

“Nervous, Miss Brat?” He asks, in that deep timbre, and you sigh, nodding.

“I am, this isn’t… I’ve just never been anywhere like this.”

“Oh, this is just the waiting room, wait till we walk through. Bet you blush red like a tomato.”

“Hey!”

“Mmhmm, or get horny. It’s a toss up.” You roll your eyes, scooching away, but he yanks you back to him. “You were so jealous just now.”

“No! I just… well, you never…”

“Nah, not my style. Though I don’t blame any of them, making money off rich idiots. And a lot of these women are so smart. They’re great for information.” You brush your fingers up and down his collar as you wait.

 You know he's as eager to get to the bottom of this as you are, you can feel the tenseness of his body against yours. Your knees are knocking together, you keep fidgeting with your hands, then fiddling with the charms on your bracelet. Satoru takes your hand in his, looking at you seriously.

“If you’re uncomfortable-”

“No, no. I’m good. Just nervous about everything.” He sighs, looking at your little charms now.

“You need another, hmm?”

Before you can answer, a curtain at the back of the room parts, and a statuesque woman emerges. She's dressed in a tight, crimson dress that clings to her body like a second skin. Her eyes are sharp and assessing as she looks you both over.

"Madam," Satoru stands, releasing your hand, "Thank you for seeing us."

"Mr. Gojo," she says, her voice like silk, "It's always a pleasure. And who is this lovely young lady?"

"My top student. She's assisting me with the case." He wraps an arm around your waist and her eyes catch it. “She’s also my Shnookums.”

“Shnookums? Huh.” Madam's gaze lingers on you, and you hold her stare, feeling a flicker of something unpleasant. It's not hostility, but something else. Calculation, maybe. "Well, well, this seems interesting, let's talk in private."

You both get up and follow her into a back room, the curtain swishing shut behind you. The room is dimly lit, with a large desk and a few chairs, thick incense heavy and smoking, there are ornate paintings and the walls are red with foiled gold leaf. There's a sense of something seedy but also it’s classy in a way. It’s what you would picture for a Madam, you think at least.

Madam sits down in a big red chair, plush and velvet, crossing long bare legs and smirking at you both. "What brings you to my establishment after so many years, Mr. Gojo?"

“Aww, miss me Madam?” He shoots a wink, and she rolls her eyes.

“Want a drink, you two?” You look at Gojo and he nods. “There’s a decanter of brandy right there, it’s a good year.”

“You’re always so sweet you know.” She scoffs, and his hand brushes your thigh before he stands, adjusting his suit a bit and then pouring from the crystal decanter, allowing the Madam time to study you.

“You’re awfully pretty. You should come work for me.” She cooes, and Satoru comes over and scowls at her, making her smirk. “What, she’d make top dollar.”

“I enjoy law, but thank you for the offer.” You say smoothly, and the madam’s red lips tilt up.

“I like her.”

“I know, she’s the best. Here ya go, Madam.” Gojo hands her a glass, then you, with the clear amber liquid. “Now…” He sits next to you, hand possessively clutching your thigh, he always has to touch you when he can, and you love it, love feeling so connected. “I need to talk to one of your girls. She might have information on our suspect."

Madam's expression doesn't change. "Which one?"

"Kanna."

Her eyes flicker with something, but she remains calm. "Kanna is no longer with us. She's moved on to... other opportunities."

You see Satoru's jaw clench, and you know he's not buying it. "Bullshit," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "I know she's still here, I’ve already had details about her. And I need to talk to her."

Madam sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Very well. But what's in it for me?" She asks, and Satoru smirks now.

“How about… this.” He pulls out a giant wad of hundreds, there was surely thousands of dollars there, and she nods then, standing.

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Gojo. I’ll have her come in. It was a pleasure to meet you, you’ve got quite a man.” She is trailing her long red nails across your cheek, tilting your chin up. “And he’s got quite a girl.”

“I sure do.” She tousles Satoru’s white hair, sauntering out then, leaving you both waiting in anticipation. “She’s kinda a bitch.”

“Mmm, seems like a businesswoman to me.” Satoru chuckles, as you take a sip of the strong liquor, coughing a bit.

“Lightweight.”

“Hey!” Soon though, a young woman with short black hair and a wary look in her eyes enters the room. She's dressed in a short, lacy dress that leaves little to the imagination. You can see the fear in her eyes as she looks at Satoru, and something in your chest tightens.

"Thank you for coming, Kanna. We need your help." Satoru says then, standing up to shake her hand, and her eyes flick to you, and then back to Satoru, curiously.

"Sure, what's going on?"

"We're working on a case," he says, his voice softer now. "And we think you might have some information that could help us."

Kanna looks at the floor, biting her lip. "I don't know anything."

Satoru's gaze turns intense, and you can feel the power in the room shift, it’s like you can see him go into that mode, the serious one. "Look at me," he commands, and she does, her eyes wide with fear. "I need the truth, Kanna. We're trying to put away a dangerous fucking man, and free an innocent one."

For a long moment, she's silent. Then she looks up, her eyes meeting both of you, fidgeting as she sits down finally. "Okay," she whispers, "I'll tell you what I can, that was a long time ago."

“Thank you, Kanna. All right, do you remember a run in with Naoya Zenin?” She tenses, and nods, and you see it right on her face, she’s fucking terrified.

Kanna's voice is shaky as she starts talking, her eyes darting between you and Satoru, and you can see the fear in them. She tells a story of a night with Naoya, a night that ended with bruises and tears. The way she describes his behavior sends a chill down your spine, confirming the suspicions you've had since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Satoru's expression is unreadable, his icy blue eyes never leaving hers, studying her, even as he still holds on to you so close, like you’re tethering him from losing his shit. You hold his hand carefully, he is so tense and you can feel the anger simmering under his calm exterior, his hand balling into a fist at his side that’s not holding you. You know he's holding back, for now, but you’re not sure for how long.

Satoru is furious as he hears what he’s done.

“So why didn’t you say it was him that night with your friend!?” Satoru’s voice is harsh, and you can feel him coming apart at the seams. You struggle to hold his hand, which is clenched so tightly in a fist.

She opens her mouth, then closes it, and tears start pouring from her eyes, so you stand up then, grabbing a box of tissues, and you walk over to her, bending on a knee down on the plush rug. You dab her eyes gently, and she smiles a bit tremulously, Satoru is quiet behind you.

“He’s just really, really worried about someone else getting hurt. You can tell us anything, we’ll protect you, okay?” She nods then, and you come to hold her hands, which are cold and clammy.

“Th-thank you. He told me he’d kill me if I said anything, and I believed him… I was so afraid.” She’s sobbing and you’re holding her thin body, as it wracks with her shaking shoulders.

Satoru comes up then, putting a hand on her shoulder, and one on yours, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

When she finishes her story, you can see the wheels turning in Satoru's head. He's piecing together the puzzle, looking for the one piece that will make it all make sense. "Thank you, Kanna, you've been very helpful. Do you think Madam has any vido cameras back there?”

She frowns, nodding. “She does. I’m not sure how far back they go but I suppose you might find the video of him with me. As for my friend who… is gone… I don't think so. He took her to his place.”

“I’ll pay her to find it. Kanna, could you possibly share this in court?”

“Oh god facing him!?”

“We’ll be right there, Kanna.” You say reassuringly. “He scares me too, he’s already… threatened me.” Your eyes lower, and she gasps, then holds your hands tightly.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh my god!” You hug her tightly, feeling so much emotion for a girl you barely know. “Kanna you’re so brave.”

“I wouldn’t want you hurt because I was too afraid. But please… I need to make sure I’m safe.”

“You will be, I can get you out of here too if you want. A new life, far away?” She sighs, nodding then, and Gojo stands up and hands her a huge amount of money now, so much it was insane to physically see.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She hands it back, but Gojo shakes his head.

“You’re doing me the biggest favor. Just keep this between us.”

“Of course, thank you. It will help me so much.” She stands up and hugs Gojo, then comes to hold your hands. “Please be careful. Mr. Gojo take good care of her.”

“I will, of course, I’ll get this mother fucker. Don’t worry.” She exhales, and there is a heavy tension in the room as you both get up to leave, Satoru's hand on the small of your back guiding you out.

Once you're outside, the cool evening air hits you like a slap in the face, and you both take a moment to breathe. "Shit, that was... something."

Satoru turns to you, his eyes a mess of emotions, those swirling cerulean depths drinking you in. He pulls you flush against him, exhaling, warm against the chill of the air, puffing a bit of your hair back. “You were amazing there.”

“What? No, Satoru, I just comforted her.” You look down a bit, but he tilts your chin back up.

“No, you were so caring, where I was harsh. Thank you. I don’t know if she would have opened up without you.” You hug him tightly, and he sinks his lips onto yours, moaning softly in your mouth.

“You’re so welcome, I’m so happy if I helped.”

“You have no clue. I’m learning from you.”

“No way.”

“Mmhmm.” You both keep pecking kisses, as his praise washes over you, making you so damn happy you can’t think. “Let’s get some rest, big day tomorrow.”

“Cuddle?” He smirks, nodding, and leads you back.

That night you end up falling asleep in his lap again, as he can’t tear himself from his research, and your heart aches for him.

****

Satoru Gojo is sipping on a sugary mocha frappe, as you’re sipping on a french roast the next day in a break room. This morning had been more witness testimonies, as Satoru is waiting to ruin it all if he can’t get this witness, Kanna, to be allowed.

“They’ll allow it! Fuck yes.” He says once he’s hung up the cell phone, his eyes lit up, despite the heavy dark circles. You bounce up eagerly, and he pulls you to him, exhaling as he clings so tightly.

“Oh Satoru, this is good news.”

“I’ll play stupid and fuck it all up. I’ll let him get ruined. But fuck, it’s going to be shit to ‘lose’.”

“You’ll be winning, really. Think about it.”

“If he says one word, I’ll fucking kill him.” Satoru says, tersely, then his alarm goes off, it’s time for you all to head back. “Fuck remember when I fingered you in like four minutes?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head at his change of subject. “Yes, I remember, crazy man. You spit on it!”

“Sure did.” He purrs out the words, and you’re a blushing mess now as he pulls you so close. “I’m taking a break after this case, thinking I’ll become a daddy.”

“Satoru stop that!” You smack at his hands as they come over your tummy, and he’s giving you puppy eyes.

“Too flat, I need it filled with me.” He picks you up, as you wriggle around in his hold, but he’s way stronger, and you’re getting turned on with him.

“You’re such an adrenaline whore! You’re getting turned on because we’re gonna get him, aren’t you!?” He grins then, letting you down, you slide down his chest slowly, giggling then.

“Like you’re not too, get turned on by true crime.” You shove at him playfully, before falling easily into his kisses. “I love you, Shnookums.”

“I love you, Toru. We got this.” You pop more reassuring kisses, but there is such a looming presence to your happiness, a heaviness in your chest that you can’t quite describe, gnawing at you.

You shove it down, you need to be here for Toru.

****

Sitting next to Naoya again, you have your shoulders squared, your chin up high as you watch your man, as he decimates the prosecution with ease, like any good defense attorney. Each question is a dance, a mix of Gojo pretending to try, and letting so much slip that will go against Naoya, as if biding his time until he’s going to demolish his own case.

“The prosecution calls Kanna Otigori to the stand.” Says the prosecutor, and Gojo pretends to be surprised along with everyone else. He may or may not have paid off the prosecution to call her.

Yeah Gojo is something alright.

Her eyes widen in fear as she sees Naoya next to you, and you look over to watch him stiffen, his fists clenching the table so hard they’re turning white. You can’t stop the smile the quirks up on the side of your lips, but you instantly erase it when he looks over at you. His eyes are terrifying, they make you tremble as he glares.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” You ask softly, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes and sinking down into the seat.

“Didn’t give you permission to talk to me.” It’s your turn to scoff, looking at your notes for a moment, but suddenly he’s gripping your leg so hard you’re crying out, the courtroom is too loud currently with the uproar for it to stand out.

“Get the fuck off me.” You hiss at him, and he slides his hand up then, you grip his wrist, digging your nails in and glaring. “Get off.”

“I’ll expose you both if you ruin this shit for me, fucking got me?” You tremble, looking away as he continues to boldly touch you, in front of the whole room, but no one could see. “Let me catch you when your body guard isn’t around.”

He lets you go, and your heart is shattered, as you realize everything you have with Satoru is going to crumble. You’d ruin your career, his… but you can’t let him get away with this shit. You casually kick the fuck out of him with your heel under the table, and he damn near lunges at you before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Was gonna be sweet with you. Not now. I’ll fucking ruin every inch of you.” He whispers, and finally you can’t take it, you’re hyperventilating. You step out, rushing through the room, and eyes are everywhere on you.

You sink against the wall, holding your chest, it feels as if it were going to just explode, and then Satoru is there, holding you. “Satoru, no, go back in. Go back in! You need to fucking get him! You-”

“What’d he say!? What happened!? Baby tell me.” He’s cupping your face, having left his own damn trial for you.

“I’m ruining your life.” You whisper through tears, and his lips part in a gasp, as he shakes his head furiously, bending low, his beautiful face blurring as you keep feeling more and more faint. Your blood pressure has skyrocketed, you’re shaky, and you can’t catch a breath.

“You’re making my life. There was nothing before you. Stop it. Please, baby, c’mere…” He pulls you against him as you continue to hyperventilate, to the point you’re not sure you can breathe anymore. “Baby breathe with me. Please.”

Satoru holds you close, his hand rubbing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, trying to calm you down. You focus on his steady breaths, trying to match them, but it's hard, really hard. The walls seem to be closing in, and all you can think about is Naoya's threats, about Satoru’s future, and you realize you’re crying all over his dress shirt.

"I've got you, everything will be fine." He whispers, and you want to believe him, you really do. You cling to his suit, breathing him in, trying to ignore the panic attack that's taking over your body.

But it's not fine, is it? It’s never going to be fine if Naoya gets away with this.

You manage to suck in a breath, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes searching your face, so concerned, so loving. "You okay?"

"No." You admit, and his own expression cracks, just a bit. "But I'll be okay. We'll get him."

"We will, I promise you. If not, I’ll fucking murder him, you got me?” He cups your face as he says it, as you lose yourself in his eyes. “What did he say?”

“I can’t tell you, you’ll fuck up the case. I need your head in the game, you need to get him. Please.” Satoru scowls then, opening his mouth to demand you tell him, when a court officer approaches, looking stern.

"Mr. Gojo, you're needed back in the courtroom." Satoru nods, looking torn.

“I need a break, please, I’ll be back in. Don’t worry, I'm okay.” He frowns, and you feel his energy, his love, as he shakes his head, but you gently push him.

"I love you. I promise I’ll do this right." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before he has to go back in, but his touch lingers, as you hug yourself, trying to control the violent shaking.

If you are going to be a criminal lawyer, you need to try to face this, you need to push past it.

You allow yourself some time before you walk back in, sitting next to this fucking man, and finally watch Satoru work his magic. He gives you a reassuring little smile, and you thank God he doesn’t know what Nouya did just yet, you know he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Your skin crawls as you continue to sit next to this disgusting man, but he’s actually terrified now, his eyes bulging out of his head, as Gojo plays ‘dumb’ and acts so shocked that the witness is ruining his case. He’s waving his hands dramatically, and trying to ‘argue’ his way, half assed of course, and suddenly the prosecution is looking happy.

“Kanna, how are we to believe you!?” Satoru asks, as if he’s really trying to dissuade her, then suddenly, a bailiff is handed evidence, and Satoru once more pretends to look shocked.

It’s a perfect show.

You both had admitted it to evidence by paying the Madam double what Satoru already had, to make it look like the Prosecution had done so. These Prosecution lawyers probably thought they were killing it, beating the Satoru Gojo!? And Satoru let them think so.

The Satoru Gojo, the best lawyer, who never loses, is going to lose on purpose, so he can make sure this fucker disappears.

“What is this!?” Satoru asks, as the judge views it, turning pale.

“This is… please, everyone, allow me a moment.” The judge is so disgusted she walks out for a moment, before convening with the lawyers and the rest of the team. “We will play this, but please be aware, it’s graphic.”

The video so clearly shows Naoya abusing Kanna, and you feel your stomach roll with nausea, tensing, as the jury looks on in horror. Kanna has already been escorted back, and you know she will be going far away, starting hopefully a much better life than she had. You’re ready to vomit, as Naoya is losing his shit, and his family is trying to control him.

Satoru is holding his mouth, as if he’s as sick as the rest of you, at points he couldn’t even look. “Your honor, I have nothing to say, defense rests.”

Everyone in the courtroom is in shock, there’s so much noise that the judge banging her gavel isn’t doing a damn thing, they’re all losing their shit. The famous Gojo rests his case, and he comes up to stand between you and Naoya, who lunges at him, and you see Satoru’s insane blue eyes, his brows up high, grin huge like the joker. He looks fucking crazy.

“Looks like our next talk will be how to keep you off death row.” He says, patting Naoya then on the shoulder, and then he’s just dragging you out, you race in your heels to catch his quick, long strides, until you all are out front.

“Satoru, are you okay? That was-”

“What’d he do? What’d he do fucking tell me.” You blink a bit, as he’s cupping your face so tight, and that insane look is even more insane, his eyes are so bright they hurt you to stare at. You take a shaky breath, looking around, and seeing people filing out of the courtroom.

“Satoru, we can’t right here-”

“I don’t fucking care. Tell me. Now. I have to know what he said to get you that way, what he threatened, he’s clearly a fucking monster!” His voice is breaking, and it breaks your heart to see him this way, as he’s got you in a vice like grip.

“Satoru, you’re hurting me.” You whisper, as he’s squeezing your head so hard it aches, he instantly releases you, pulling you against him and kissing you, shamelessly right there. “Satoru we can’t!”

“You’re fucking mine. I’m so tired of it.” He’s burying his face in your neck, and you know people can see, they’re starting to stop and say things.

“Please calm down.” You ease back a bit, then pull him away further, until you are behind a little alcove in front of the court house, and Satoru is completely on edge, he’s trembling all over. You run your hands gently down his arms. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t do something rash.”

“Nope, just tell me.” You sigh again, then hug your own arms, looking down as he studies you. “I need to fucking know baby.”

“Shit. He touched my thigh… and higher. Satoru!” He’s punching the bannister, and you watch it crackling, as he faces you again. “What else?”

“Satoru…”

“What else!?”

You tremble at his tone, you’ve never seen him so unhinged and it’s terrifying you now. “He… said he’d ruin me for you.”

“Fucking what!?”

“It’s fine, we’re going to-”

“I’m done acting so fucking mature. I’m done being the bigger person. He can’t touch you, don't you get it baby? I’ll never let him touch you again.” Satoru slings off his jacked as Naoya is coming right for him, and your heart drops in your stomach.

There’s no reaching Gojo now.

The crowd gathers around the two of you, whispers flying, as Naoya stops right in front of you, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "You think you're so fucking clever, don't you, Gojo?"

Gojo grins, looking terrifying, but Naoya doesn’t back up one bit, as Gojo starts laughing then. "It’s about to get so much worse for you. I wonder which boy will rape you in prison?" Satoru says, his voice deadly calm, his eyes glowing with rage.

Naoya loses his shit then, shoving at him. "You think you can just use me to win your little game? I'll show you what happens when you mess with me."

Satoru steps closer, so close you can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. "You're already going down, Naoya. This is just the cherry on top, beating you to a fucking pulp for touching her."

You watch as Naoya's eyes narrow, his hands curling into fists, and Naoya swings first, but Satoru is already moving, his fist connecting with Naoya's jaw with a sickening crack. The sound echoes through the air, and Naoya stumbles back, his mouth hanging open in shock, and you watch blood already pouring from Satoru’s huge fist connecting.

You watch in horror as Gojo grabs him, slamming him against the banister, each punch thrown with the precision of a master. It's clearly not Satoru’s first time fighting, he seems to know every spot. Naoya struggles to get a single hit in, but Satoru is ducking, then swinging and punching his stomach.

“I said if you touched her you’d fucking die.” He bites out, as people are now recording on their phones.

Shit.

“Satoru…” You try to get his attention, but he’s well past that, and you want to stop him, but your body is frozen, your heart racing as you watch the man you love beat the living daylights out of the monster that is Naoya.

Satoru is like a force of nature, unstoppable, relentless, and you're both terrified and turned on by the power he exudes, and there’s now the threat of everyone seeing this, seeing him fighting Naoya over you. Naoya lands a hit on Satoru’s pretty face now, and you lose your shit, you snatch up your briefcase, coming behind him and whacking the fuck out of him now.

You can hear the murmurs of the crowd, the gasps, the whispers of shock and excitement as you’ve seemingly joined the fight. “Don’t touch him, you piece of shit!” You growl out, and Naoya coughs up blood, as Gojo grins over at you, pulling you to him for a moment.

“Fuck you’re hot.” He says, and you actually giggle, as he’s covered in blood, kissing you in front of a whole audience.

You all are SO fucked.

Naoya comes and shoves you then, knocking you on your ass, and then Satoru is back on him, knocking him to the ground and straddling him. “I’ll fucking kill you, don’t you dare touch her!”

Naoya’s family is trying to break it up, as are others, but the fight is brutal, each hit landed with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. It seems like it goes on forever, but it's really only a matter of minutes before Naoya is on flat the ground, not moving, and Satoru is kneeling over him, chest heaving as he keeps punching. Naoya isn’t even conscious.

“Satoru… he’s out.” You come to him then, touching his shoulder, so tense and shaking, but he looks up at you, then back at him, and punches his swollen, bruised face again, as you hear the sirens approach.

Shit.

The police come rushing over now, trying to pull Gojo away, but he’s not listening, he’s lost in his rage, until you’re grabbing his shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s over, Toru please stop, please." You’re shaking him, and finally, he’s coming back to reality, looking down at you, his eyes still alight with that rage, but now there’s a hint of something else.

Guilt.

He looks at you, and you just nod, and stand then, and he kisses you, so hard, before the cops can drag him away, whispering in your ear. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, I’ll get us out of this, I promise. I love you so much, so much.”

“Satoru, I’ll get you out. I’ll head right there okay!?” He nods then, as the cops are putting the love of your life in handcuffs, and the ambulance is taking a completely unrecognizable Naoya away.

You’re left standing there, as Satoru is taken away in the car, and you hop in his, heart racing and hands trembling, as you now have to navigate his car, and you follow the cop car, seeing his bright blue eyes peeking at you from the rear window. You stay right behind them until you get to the jail.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse inside of his car, smacking the wheel as your chest is heaving, as you’re fucking terrified.

You end up having to wait over three hours, agonizing as your friends let you know they’ve already watched the video on youtube. As Suguru and Nanami blow up the phone Gojo left, and there’s an insane amount of calls from Dean Yaga to both of your phones, that go unanswered.

You all are so fucked.

After a long, long wait, they let you bail Satoru out, luckily he had a fuck ton of money in his wallet, because it was hefty, and when he steps out, he is laughing and chit chatting with the cops. They’re patting his back, apologizing for this, and he’s grinning when he finally gets to you.

“Satoru!” You’re in tears, and he picks you up in his arms, hugging you tightly, and the cops clear their throats.

“Let’s go, baby.” Now you’re cleaning Satoru’s wounds in the little hotel bathroom, pulling out different things from the first aid kit.

You gently clean Satoru's face, your trembling hands moving with the gentle precision of a sculptor repairing a cherished masterpiece. Satoru’s beautiful face is a masterpiece, and to see it marred seems so cruel. You’re dabbing on his busted lower lip carefully, before applying antiseptic.

“It might sting.” You murmur apologetically, and he smiles a bit, as his hands sit on the nip of your waist, hands encompassing it.

“I am getting taken care of by the hottest nurse, I’ll not be a little bitch and cry about it.” You snort at that, as his hands now press into your hips, making you melt more and more.

“You’re too positive. Fuck you know what happened…” You exhale, as you continue to wipe him clean, dabbing right on his eye which is swelling a bit. “I’ll get some ice for this.”

“Mmm, you spoil me. Nurse and student fantasies.” You giggle at him, returning with some ice and wrapping a washcloth, placing it on his brow bone.

 His eyes are closed, and his breaths are shallow, but he grips your hips firmly, as if afraid you'll slip away. The room's stark lighting casts stark shadows across his skin, highlighting the raw, red marks where Naoya's knuckles had made contact. The adrenaline rush from the fight has begun to recede, leaving behind a cold wave of fear that now crashes over you,

“I’m scared, Satoru.” You whisper, and Satoru's eyes finally open, meeting yours with a fiery intensity that makes you gasp. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening.

“Don’t be baby girl, I’ll deal with this. I promise, I won’t let it touch you.” He says desperately, and you shake your head, blinking back tears.

“Why don’t you ever worry about you!? Why is it only me!” You’re shaking him by the shoulders, and he lets you, just studying you with heartbreakingly gorgeous eyes.

“I’m rich as fuck, I’ll pay them to keep you at the school.”

“Satoru, what about you!? You’ve done everything to nail him, even losing this damn case, you can’t let this ruin you. Not when you help so many.” You whisper, and now you’re straddling him as he sits at the edge of the tub, and he’s blinking back emotion, his long white lashes dripping with little droplets of tears.

“Who do I help?” His broken voice kills you, you shake your head, gently cupping his cheeks, careful not to hurt him, and he’s gripping your hips bruisingly, as if he never wants to let you go.

“So many people! Satoru you’ve saved lives, you’ve put away murderers-”

“An innocent man!”

“And we’ll get him out! Stop it, you need to know how amazing you are.” He’s crying silently now, you gently brush his tears away, taking a shaky breath. “You’ve saved me in so many ways. You’ve given me arms that make me feel like I’m at home, finally.”

He’s sobbing, resting his head on your chest, and you cling to him, holding him so tightly as he does, his big hands gripping your shirt so tightly you think he’ll rip it right off. Every sob and shake break you internally, as the man you love is so broken, he’s got so much fucking pain.

“I fucked us up too.”

“No! We’ll handle it. We will. Satoru nothing will keep me from this, even if… even if I can’t…”

“Don’t say that, you have to be a lawyer, fuck you’re destined for it. You’re so good baby. I swear to god I won’t let that fuck up.” He looks back to you, and you nod, trembling in his hold as emotions flow, as the little bathroom is suffocating in all the emotion and tension.

“I will do anything for you, Satoru Gojo. Anything.” He picks you up then, moaning, and wincing at the same time. “Satoru, are you okay!?”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch.”

“Did you just quote Monty Python?”

“Good girl.” You giggle, even though it’s fucking insane, even though you are both beyond fucked, even though Satoru just beat up a murderer and everyone knows about you.

Even if your life is ruined, Satoru is here.

Flesh and blood.

“I need you, I need you. Please.” You’re begging as he’s carrying you to the bed, and he exhales, undressing you slowly, unzipping the business skirt you were still wearing, as the moonlight is pouring in through the hotel window. You tremble as he unbuttons your blouse, kissing each inch of exposed skin.

“I’ll give you anything, baby girl.” He murmurs, as your hands are enwrapping in his snowy white hair, so soft in your fingers, and then he’s got you bare aside from a bra and panties. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, Toru…” You’re crying now too, needing him so badly you can’t think, breaths coming quicker when he takes off his shirt, revealing that perfect body. You eagerly run your hands down it, kissing down his chest, until he shoves you down on the bed, right on your back, shaking his head.

“Let me take care of you, baby girl. Please?” He whispers, his eyes dilated so that there’s just a thin blue ring, as his hands caress your sensitive skin, leaving a wake of fire. “Be a good girl f’me, baby?”

“Yes, of course. Of course, Toru. Please.” You whisper, sitting up to undo your bra, letting your breasts bounce out, and he’s groaning, gripping them and squishing them in his hands, kissing down each mound. You cry out at how good it feels when he bites you there, when he squeezes so hard.

“Too rough baby?” You shake your head, and he exhales, kissing around an areola before sucking one of your perky nipples in his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, and your hips buck up at how good it feels. It shoots straight through your tummy, where his hand is sliding down. “I fucking love your body.”

“Th-thank, ah! Toru!” You’re soaking your panties, as he’s slipping his finger down the waistband, moaning when he finds you.

“You’re such a good girl, always so wet f’me baby. Aren’t you?” His voice is hoarse, his finger slipping up and down between your lips, and you’re clutching him so tightly, manicured nails digging in his back, making him hiss. “Yes, fucking mark me, please baby.”

“Toru…” You’re not used to him like this, as his eyes flutter shut over you, and he’s so vulnerable then, so needy, as he whines when you’re finding him over his pants, rubbing. “So hard for me Toru? Show me.”

“Yes baby.” He leans back and takes off his clothes finally, you eagerly go to touch him, feeling his length twitch in your grip, but he shoves you back down, shaking his head. “I need to take care of you.”

“You can do that by fucking my throat?” He groans at that, eyes shutting for a moment, allowing you to look just how beautiful he is as that moonlight hits his alabaster skin.

“You drive me insane. The moment I first looked into your goddamn eyes at that club. No, before, when I saw you just standing there.” You’re blinking rapidly, as he’s taking your panties off, kissing down between your breasts, nipping at the tight skin at your ribcage, and you cry out, growing even wetter as your cunt is exposed to the cool air of the room.

“You did?” You whisper, he looks up with those heartbreaking eyes, nodding and kissing further down, nipping your soft tummy, then even lower, shoving your thighs apart and groaning.

“You didn’t belong there. It’s what I thought. I thought, who is this girl? Why does she make my heart stop?” You’re sobbing, even as much as you’re soaking wet between your thighs, your fucking eyes are too, and you’re arching your back for his hot mouth, as your love grows so much it hurts.

“Satoru, I couldn’t- fuck- stand it when I saw you. You changed everything… at that moment I- ah!” He’s licking your inner thigh, right where it’s at that apex, and you’re shivering at the sensation, then he’s breathing on you, looking up in the night up your body. “I knew I was done for.”

“Knew when I tasted this perfect pussy. When I drank you.” He laps you up then, the way this man devours you, the way he worships you, you can’t stand it, you can’t take it, you’re so close already, you’re shattering with a few flicks of that tongue. He groans against you. “When I saw… those eyes… when you cum…”

“Satoru, please, please. Fuck me. Please.” You beg for him, yanking at his hair now, and he desperately slides up you, as you cup his bruised and cut face, still so beautiful it’s unreal, and you feel that weight on you, feel his body heat pouring through your skin. “Please, Toru. Need you in me.”

“I’ll give you anything.” He shoves inside you then, and you’re screaming, literally screaming at the stretch, at the fill, as your greedy cunt is sucking him right in. “F-fuck, you feel so goddamn perfect, sucking me in s’good.”

“Toru! S’big- ngh I- fucking love your cock, fuck.” He presses on your throat now, squeezing and shoving his cock inside you so deep, to the hilt, you lose oxygen, seeing stars glittering behind your damn eyes.

“Feel me baby girl?” He presses on your stomach then, and you look down, as he moves in and out, seeing a bulge that makes you blush furiously. You just nod, as he still has his other hand on your throat. “Feel me everywhere.”

“I do, Satoru fuck… I do. Everywhere.” You whisper, as he’s choking you tightly, you grip his wrist with one hand, the other clutching to his back, nails digging in again, and he hisses, before pulling back a bit.

“Can you take it hard?” You nod, eagerly, then he exhales, as if he’s been holding back, his consideration touches you, but his cock railing you, ruins you.

“T-T-Toru!” You’re choking out his name, as he’s fucking into you brutally now, as his mad blue eyes dreamily drink your face in, and you lose yourself in them, in Satoru Gojo, as he’s pounding you into the mattress, as he’s taking your breath. You cum so hard you feel like you’re floating, like you’re flying so damn high in the air, and only he brings you back.

Satoru eases his grip on your neck, but now he’s leaning down, pressing one of your thighs up high and fucking even deeper, and you’re close again, already so oversensitive you can’t take it. You’re desperately clinging to his neck, to his shoulders, anywhere and everywhere you can cling to.

“I need… you… forever. Baby. Forever.” He huffs, and his words shock you, as you both had said your love, but…

This is crazy.

Could there be a forever?

You’d do anything to have a forever.

“Yes, Toru, yes… forever. Forever yours. Only you.” You whisper back, your brows drawing together as he’s sweating now, his skin slick as yours is now too, and he’s dripping just a bit, his chest down to your breasts. You’re cumming again, clinging to him so tight, he is groaning as he studies you, so carefully, like you’re the only woman or thing in this world.

“Only me. Only me.” He’s huffing as he works over you, then he’s entwined his hands in yours, your fingers together, and you’re sobbing at how good he feels, as his curved cock drags in your walls. He hisses as they flutter around him, resting his forehead on yours. “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you. Toru. You.” Hushed whispers continue, as Toru relentlessly pounds your pussy, and he’s fucking you into another orgasm, you’re so wet you’re slippery, so wet you hear the lewd squishing. He’s kissing you now, his firm lips on yours, uncaring of his cut, he’s brutal in his kiss.

“Mine. Mine to keep. Protect. Fucking breed.” He says now, looking at you manically, and you’re falling off that edge with him, chest heaving, as he’s pressing his hard chests on your lush breasts, as he’s grinding his cock deep against your cervix and you’re screaming out, arching your back.

He’s kissing down your neck now, and you’re shaking violently. “Breed me, Toru, breed me please.”

“Mmm, baby, fuck!” He’s moaning, he’s whimpering, just as you’re whining out pathetically, and he’s grabbing your hips up, shoving in so deep it hurts, but you crave it, your sloppy cunt is milking him as he releases. “Take it baby. Take it.”

“T-Toru! Ngh!” You’re cumming again, as his huge load of thick cum pours in you, and he’s exhaling, his eyes never leaving yours, lidded and fucked out just like your own, as you both whine at how sensitive you are. “Love you. Want your babies.”

“Want em? Want em in you?” You nod, and he keeps pumping that cum in you, clinging to your hands as he’s kissing you, desperately, and you’re gone now, there’s only you and Satoru Gojo.

No world.

You’d do anything for him. Anything to feel this.

Satoru exhales, leaning up a bit, and you frown when you notice he’s busted his lip back open, gently touching it with your thumb. “Fuck I love you.”

“And I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You whisper, and he kisses you again, you both don’t care about the bit of blood, you greedily take his kisses, as he turns you then, pulling you so close against him, clinging to you. “Oh, Satoru…”

“I fucked up shit.” He’s shaking, so you hold him close, shaking your head as you struggle to come down from the climaxes, from the dizzying madness that consumes you, from Satoru Gojo.

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever it takes.” He glares down at you, his jaw tense, so tense you see a vein popping out. You run a finger down it, as your thigh is over his own, as you’re a tangle of limbs in the messy bed. “I’ll never fucking leave you, Satoru.”

“Never!? Promise me please.” He begs now, and you nod eagerly, earning more of his messy kisses.

“How could I? There’s nothing but you.” He’s gripping you so tightly to him you swear you hear your damn ribs creak, like he can’t get you close enough. You snuggle to his big body, as reality sets in on you both. “We are in deep shit though.”

“Deep shit. Quicksand of shit. But guess what?”

“What?” You whisper, looking up at him, your messy hair being brushed back by his sure touch.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

His words hurt you, as you know he literally means anything. “Don’t try to sacrifice yourself for me! We’ll do it together.”

“You’re my everything. There’s nothing without you.” You feel those sticky hot tears returning as he caresses your face, as you feel his erratic heartbeat against your palm. You feel his desperation, his energy, his need, and it matches your own.

“Then keep your fucking self safe too. Okay!?” He doesn’t answer you, he’s just caressing your hair, in gentle strokes, so soothing. “Satoru don’t do anything stupid, please.”

“I already did, didn’t I?”

You glare now, shaking at your worry, at your anger, at your love. “We can fix it, or I’ll go down for it. It’s worth it to be with you.”

“I’ll not let shit get you. Never baby.” He kisses you again, and you’re falling apart and being put back together in this damn hotel room, and you’re just trying to avoid the reality of tomorrow in his strong arms.

Ao3 chap https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/150274354

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a cozy satoru for your saturday evening?

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this is the best thing ive seen tonight 🤣

they share a single braincell when together 🧍

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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

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