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#basketball gojo x reader
bnpd · 1 month
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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
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SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .
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PT. 1 : PT. 2
Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work. 
“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.
“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.” 
You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”
You think it over.
You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game. 
“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”
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“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.” 
Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team. 
The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.
“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable. 
“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.
“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers. 
You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all. 
“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”. 
Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed. 
Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line. 
“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”. 
Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration. 
“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.” 
Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss. 
The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko. 
“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”
Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.
She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game. 
The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look. 
“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.
More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores. 
You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board. 
“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board. 
The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.” 
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Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart. 
“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone. 
He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.
“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile. 
A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game. 
“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him. 
Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”
He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.  
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You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received. 
“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class. 
“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her. 
“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look. 
Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”
“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?” 
You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.” 
“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye. 
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The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up. 
After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store. 
You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head. 
You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas. 
You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.
You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.
You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look. 
You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh. 
But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking. 
“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player. 
“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.
Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it. 
“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.
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You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather. 
You never could handle the cold.
Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that. 
You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.
You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark. 
“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you. 
Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.
A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.
You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain. 
The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.” 
Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.
“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time. 
You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is. 
You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth. 
“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.
A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.
“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.
“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.
You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances. 
Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”
Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight. 
When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.
The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.
But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general. 
After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures. 
Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity. 
“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.
A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.
Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.
“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”
You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.
He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood. 
“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.
“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.” 
You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.
You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories. 
There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities. 
You can’t imagine the burden he must carry. 
One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.
His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself. 
A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features. 
Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.
How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.
You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away. 
After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.
Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?” 
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You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts. 
You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow. 
Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room. 
“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?
She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing. 
“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent. 
Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.
“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.
“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title. 
‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’
 “These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.” 
You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.
You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—” 
“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.
She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night. 
“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?” 
Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.” 
She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.
You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded. 
What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party. 
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Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow. 
You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours. 
“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you. 
“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”
“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes. 
Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.
“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question. 
“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you. 
“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.
“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.” 
Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think. 
“I think I need a shot.” You mutter. 
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“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”
You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it. 
You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height. 
The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world. 
As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing. 
“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together. 
“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses. 
Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?” 
“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”
You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”
You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile. 
“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it. 
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?” 
You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”
“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says. 
“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”
Non-profit? Working with?
“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone. 
Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says. 
“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.” 
Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it. 
“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”
“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes. 
You think you might have to kill yourself after this.
Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?” 
“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.
“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”
To jump off a cliff? Absolutely. 
Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.
You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.
Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you. 
But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.
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“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.
A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?” 
“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup. 
“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”
“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”
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And she did. 
The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence. 
He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction. 
Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.
“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.” 
“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them. 
“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”
“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin. 
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Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move. 
From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part. 
She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship. 
And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together. 
Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful. 
“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”
“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”
She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.
At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.
You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.
But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be. 
You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?
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songsofadelaide · 10 days
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Basketball superstar!Satoru x popular influencer!reader who is always on courtside gf duties whenever it's game season. You often go viral on social media for your antics— like proudly sporting a smaller version of your boyfriend's jersey, wearing cutesy cheerleader outfits, swearing at the referees whenever your boyfriend is hit with a foul, and jumping into his arms the moment his team is declared the victors. You were his number one fan, after all.
Fortunately, Satoru is way into PDA that you often get away with your antics, which he thinks are just so cute. His teammates are used to him running up to you instead of the trophies they've won. You don't mind that he kisses you while he's all sweaty— you relish his warmth even more since he's worked so hard.
At times when you're busy with your own gigs to attend his game, you send a care package his way along with other nutritional pre-game goodies for his team, too. They thank you with a cute and clumsy TikTok video on their official account, showing off their healthy snacks while still in their jumpsuits. Satoru takes the centre stage and is inevitably teased by everyone else in the locker room.
When game season is over and the teams get a break from training, Satoru joins you in your gigs and endorsement shoots, happily playing the role of your (real) stage boyfriend. He's mostly a glorified PA but everyone else in the set still gets so starstruck by his mere presence. He allows photos and selfies but only at a respectful distance, but he is handsy once you step into his space.
When you're both at home in bed in your pyjamas and Korean face masks, he'd show you his phone and how his socials were flooded with thousands of tags to photos and Pop Base videos of the two of you. You'd tease him about giving the people something else to talk about, but he'd reply in kind and enumerate in detail all the crazy things and trouble you two could get into— if you didn't care about your careers, that is.
You and Satoru are one of the most popular couples on social media at the moment, but you don't let your audience impact the way you two handle things. More importantly, you still keep a fair amount of your relationship to yourselves, so not everything your followers see online is the whole of it.
Satoru proposes to you on a quiet fall afternoon, and you fight the urge to post your engagement as soon as you realised what was happening. There would be so much speculation about your marriage and a lot of unsolicited comments from both family and followers alike, so you say yes in the same quiet way, savouring your first few sacred moments as a newly engaged couple before eventually texting your parents and siblings with a disclaimer— not to tell a single soul.
Your wedding photos go viral, and you laughed at how insane your Instagram comments went before muting your notifications. Satoru is drawing a lopsided heart in the sand, the bright smile on his face disappearing just as quickly as the waters washed away his artwork. Your honeymoon is just as quiet as your wedding, and while you thought you could have made a quick buck out of the whole ordeal, you really wouldn't have had it any other way— just you and him and all the precious people in your lives.
When Satoru returned to the game from your extended honeymoon, the media was nothing but ecstatic to see him and hear about your first few moments as newlyweds. He makes the rookie mistake of excitedly telling everyone that you were expecting, thus the influx of baby items from new sponsors. You forgive him for that, thankful for all the love and support you've received from both your followers so far.
You no longer swear at the refereees nor do you jump into basketball superstar Satoru's arms whenever his team wins a game. Instead, he carries your son on his shoulders, their matching jerseys a sight to behold for all watching his every move. Your son clings to his father as confetti rains over the court and the crowd, and you can't help but think how you've been dethroned as Gojo Satoru's number one fan. Wife sounds just as good, though.
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sanjisboyfie · 5 months
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when you know, you know.
-> basketball player gojo satoru x male reader
requested!!! a rlly old req from an anon in my inbox <3 ty for the req and jm so sorry it took so long however the 6k+ word count hopefully makes up for that. + listen to margaret by lana del rey on repeat for the full affect
-> prev
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warnings : satoru ooc (i do NOT agree w that warning but i GUESS I could see why someone would disagree 🙄🙄🙄), very fluffy to the point it seems angsty!!! talk about the homosexuals!!!! satoru mentions small familial conflict in the interview portion
diamond on your ring
cause when you know, you know
when you know, you know
“thank you so much for agreeing to a sit down interview, gojo-sama,” the interviewer politely bows to the tall man the second satoru walks into the room. immediately, he bows in response, finding the sudden formalities almost abnormal.
at this point, he was so used to other interviews he’d done be super quick, informal and just reporters looking for answers to their questions with little regard for things such as respect.
this was a breath of fresh air, but satoru couldn’t help but feel bad for the interviewer whose back must be hurting now with how long they’d been bowing.
“oh, please, no need for such strong formalities,” satoru chimed in, gently resting his hand on their shoulder to goad them into standing upright, “gojo is fine, too, no need for the honorifics. it’s not like i’m royalty,” he joked, hoping to lift the mood in the room.
it seemed to work as the interviewer finally cracked a smile and dropped their shoulders from being so stiffly held up to their ear.
“then, gojo-san, please take a seat and we can get you all mic’d up for the interview. it should take no longer than a half hour, longest running an hour and a half, but we really don’t want to take up too much of your time,” satoru shook his head, assuring them that it was fine and then taking his seat.
he noticed that the cameras were already filming, but didn’t think twice on it. technically, from the moment he stepped foot in the room, the interview already started. that’s what it said on paper, at least.
“erm, to just go over what we might be discussing in this interview,” the reporter said, clearing their throat as they looked over their list of questions, “since this is a very specific interview, the questions are going to mainly be centered around your romantic relationships and very personal questions,”
satoru nodded, moving in his seat to allow the staff better access in getting the microphone to stay hidden in his clothes, “yeah, my manager sent me the general idea of questions of stuff you’d be asking, it’s alright with me,” he said, taking off his sunglasses, “plus i think i’m pretty familiar with the publisher and the audience, so it’s alright. really, ask me anything, this would probably the only time i’d do something like this,” he encouraged with a friendly smile, trying to show his genuinity.
the interviewer nodded in understanding, clicking their pen and writing a note in their notepad.
satoru had done his research beforehand. the publisher that was interviewing him, or rather the person interviewing him in steed of the company, was a pretty vocal LGBTQ+ company. it was a rare occurance in japanese media, especially as a standalone party, but they proved successful. satoru knew why they were interviewing him, obviously because he was gay and very outwordly apart of the community. he also knew that they were always respectful individuals, which is why he didn’t hesitate in accepting the interview.
if he was going to be asked about his sexuality and his very much gay relationship, he’d rather it be done through a respectful, and most likely very understanding, person rather than those that would shout at him invasive questions.
“then, are you ready, gojo-san?” the interviewer snapped him out of his daydream, making him nod his head. “let’s test the mic really quick, then we can jump into it,”
“i am gojo satoru,” he recited, looking at the staff for a thumbs up on the feedback. when he got a positive thumbs up, the interviewer followed with their own test and then they were able to get into the interview.
“let’s start with introductions, i’m ishii haruto and i’ll be the one interviewing you today, gojo-san. lovely to meet you,” he bowed his head in greeting, making satoru follow suit.
a relaxed grin was on his face as he introduced himself again, “i haven’t said it before, but i’m gojo satoru,” it was a small joke that uplifted the mood of the room once more. haruto appreciated it, laughing to himself at satoru’s subtle charisma.
”well, to get right into the interview, let’s start with hard hitting questions,” satoru braced himself, clenching his fists in his pant’s pocket, “how are you?”
satoru smiled, shooting a fake warning look haruto’s way, “i’m wonderful, how are you ishii-san? i hope you’re doing well, too,”
“i’m doing very well. it’s an honor to interview you, thank you for giving us this opportunity,” haruto said, subtly bowing his head once more, “you truly don’t understand how inspiring it will be for the rest of japan to hear your story, you’re doing such a big thing for all of us in this room, and for those that will read this interview later. so, really, thank you, gojo-san,”
satoru pursed his lips at the sentimentality, realizing quickly that this interview was going to be really different than anything he’d ever experienced before. “sobering” up a little bit, he smiled at haruto and nodded his head, “i’m happy to be here, too. i hope whoever reads this learns something about themselves,”
“yes, that will be the end goal,” haruto agreed before looking down at his notepad, “well, i guess we can just start off with this one — when did you know you were gay?”
satoru hummed, “i don’t really know. for me, i guess it was always in the back of my mind? i mean, i never had a crush on a girl growing up. and i thought it was normal. my parents did as well, seeing how driven i was from a young age to be successful in basketball, i think they wrote it off as me just being determined to make my dreams come true. no time for distractions, or something like that. but deep down, i think i always knew.” he paused, crossing his legs as he decided to add one more tidbit, “and i never thought it was wrong, either. to me, having a crush on a boy wasn’t a big deal. i just thought, huh, this sucks i like someone, i might get distracted from basketball now,”
the two shared a laugh at his joking remark at the end, but until that point the interviewer was very immersed in the personal story. he was even humming in acknowledgement of everything he was saying, as if he related.
“so when you began pursuing your current boyfriend, it was not a big deal for you? even given your position as a famous basketball player?” then haruto looked at the camera men and held his hand up, a signal of some sort that satoru was cued in on, and leaned forward, “would it be alright if we refer to him with his name?”
satoru quickly nodded, understanding now that the hand gesture meant for their mics to be cut so that they wouldn’t receive any audio.
then they were back on and satoru answered the original question, “no, it wasn’t a huge deal. well, it was to everyone else, i guess. but to me and my close friends, it wasn’t. they already knew i was really into him and had a big crush on him before i did, so it really wasn’t a big shock when i made my efforts more obvious. well, as obvious as you can get with having everyone watching you. i tried to reel it in a little when my friend’s told me he may not be comfortable with all the attention, that was the only time i really was aware of it and began to calm down on my advances,”
“oh, so it wasn’t a big deal to you, but in consideration of his feelings, you kind of held back a little bit?”
“yeah, because if things ended up not working out, then all the neutral attention we were getting would have become negative. rumors could’ve started that would’ve hurt him, and i definitely didn’t want that, so yeah,” satoru said, reiterating his main point from earlier, “i just wanted him to be comfortable whenever we were in public,”
“that’s really considerate of you, gojo-san,” the interviewer complimented, making satoru laugh with a wave of his hand.
“he never asked for all the attention in the first place, i definitely didn’t want to make our already secretive position more hostile than it needed to be,” satoru explained, “so everything had to be toned down. fortunately, he was very understanding and could see where i was coming from.”
“what do you mean by that? did he ever say anything about it?”
“well, we’re just like any other couple. we just want privacy and respect, some people don’t want to give it to us. those people that just want to hurt our relationship just because we’re both guys. if i wasn't as famous as i am, i’d imagine it’d be easier to mange. not that it still wouldn’t be stressful — but at least, not the entire country would be breathing down our necks,” satoru explained, choosing his words carefully. “no matter what, though, if you’re in a relationship with someone of the same sex, it’s going to be hard.”
“that’s true, but you two have faced a lot of very hard obstacles. it’s sad how many times people have wished to see you two broken up,” haruto said, an angry look on his face, “how did you two manage to overcome those obstacles?”
“well, we had each other, loved ones, and close friends as support systems. they were really helpful and sweet, they were the most understanding. but i think, the most important one, was that we had each other. we were in it together. not to say that all the negative attention was good or even worth it, but it made our love for one another stronger,” satoru sighed, thinking about the early days when he was first officially dating [name], “i just wish they were nicer to him. he didn’t deserve any of it,”
there was a pause of respect from haruto before they continued on, “you said you had support of loved ones and close friends — were they supportive from the get-go or did it take “convincing” for them to understand?”
“most of them were really understanding and could see that my love for him was too strong to be denied, so that was nice. but there were definitely instances of family members not understanding or simply refusing to support,” satoru answered with a grim look on his face.
“how did you deal with that?”
“well, it was mainly family members, unfortunately, that rejected my lifestyle. so i had to do the best thing and cut them off. i couldn’t have them in my ear telling me that i wasn’t meant to be this way or that [name] and i’s relationship had to be put to a stop. so i cut them off completely and haven’t spoken to them since. i could afford to make that sacrifice since i had [name] and others as support. he really helped me through that and the realization that not everyone will understand or see it as we do…you just have to learn how to deal with it in each situation and circumstance,”
haruto hummed in intrigue and understanding, “was it hard? cutting them off and coming to that realization?”
“i would say it wasn’t as hard as one would think…not when i love [name] so much i’d sacrifice anything to be with him. i wasn’t going to settle for anything passive aggressive or half-assed when it came to support of my relationship with him. like i said, i wasn’t going to let anyone bad mouth him or our relationship, i wouldn’t settle for that in exchange of keeping blood relatives around. even if someone is family, if they hurt someone i love, it still counts for something. they’re still hurting him and in turn hurting me. that’s not family anymore,” satoru said definitively. he had a hard look on his face. almost the one that was only mirrored whenever he was on the court. it showed how serious of a topic it was to him.
“seeing you so be so openly protective and in love with your boyfriend has gotten you two a lot of attention over the years, most of it is praise from others since they do think it’s adorable. does affection that you show [name] come very naturally?”
“of course it does,” satoru grinned, happy to move onto more lighthearted topics. he had the widest grin on his face now, thinking of when he would go home and cuddle his boyfriend, “i’m a very affectionate person, anyway. ask suguru, he’ll tell you,” with the reference to his best friend, who plays on the same team as him, haruto grins, “but i made sure that [name] was comfortable with it first and then went on from what he was okay with, until we got to the point right now where we both don’t really care,
if i know i’m in love with my boyfriend, i want other people to know as well. there was a bad rep surrounding me, in my early days especially. everyone thought i was a playboy, for some reason,” he shyly scratched the back of his head, “so i thought that me showing that i was very loyal and very much in love with my boyfriend, people would stop thinking that of me. and it worked! so, it was a win-win situation,”
haruto nods, looking at his cue cards with a grin, “and you two have had a really long relationship-”
“almost coming on 5 years now,” satoru giggles, a blush evident on his pale cheeks, “it doesn’t feel that long, though,”
“yeah, it’s as if it was only yesterday the two of you made it public and sent everyone into a panic,” the two laugh at the memory. the headlines that day going hysterical over the basketball player’s very much gay personal life. “and since you’ve been in a relationship for so long, has it ever crossed your mind to tie the knot permanently? settle down with [name]?”
satoru paused, the smile on his face faltering ever so slightly as he repeated the question in his mind.
marriage with [name] always was the answer. but, the idea of when and where and how never crossed satoru’s mind. well, it did. in repeated passing thoughts. but, never long enough for him to commit to the idea. he’s thought of how he would do it, where, but never really when. and even then, the how and where were never set in stone. he wanted it to be romantic, definitely had to be something that the two would retell to their kids one day as the most romantic and loving gesture satoru has ever done.
but “when”…satoru never put a pin in the calendar on what date.
he hummed where he sat, resting his chin in his palms as he thought about how to answer.
“huh, well…i know i’m going to marry him someday,” satoru assures the interviewer, who was silently panicking that they had accidentally asked a question too invasive, “but, i think i’ll keep the details of that to myself, haha,” satoru played it off as a tease, but internally he was sweating bullets.
there was never going to be a right time. a right time insinuates a moment where satoru is so overwhelmed with love that a proposal would be the only verbal indicator of that feeling.
but, satoru has been so madly and deeply in love with [name] for so long already that the “right time” feels like every waking moment.
when the two moved in together, made that huge, empty house a home for themselves. when he took [name] on their first overseas trip and they learned even more about each other. when satoru takes him home for the holidays where he just so perfectly matches with his family members and comes even more out of his shell.
satoru’s been so in love with [name] for so long it feels like they’re already married. [name] knows him like the back of his hand and vice versa.
it was as if he always knew. he just knew in the back of his mind that they’d end up standing in perfectly tailored suits at the end of the aisle, saying heartfelt and cheesy vows to each other. satoru knows he’ll probably end up crying more than [name] and he knows that that day will be the happiest he’ll ever be.
the question made his head spin around as a flurry of questions of when he would propose filled his head, but it did solidify one thing. the fact that satoru just knows that one day he’ll end up being [name]’s husband and [name] his. and he wants that day to come sooner rather than later.
”well, i think the final question for our interview today that can wrap this up, will be: do you have any advice for young aspiring individuals that might read this and see this side of you?”
satoru gulped, suddenly feeling as if the temperature in the room had gone up twenty degrees. he tugged on the collar of his button up, swallowing as he spoke carefully, “just always be true to yourself and your dreams. it doesn’t matter what other people think because if you know what you want and you know that it’s your dreams on the line, there shouldn’t be anything standing between you and that goal. whether it be a person you want to pursue or if it’s your dream career, don’t give up.” he attempted a smile at haruto and it seemed to have done its work as the interviewer bowed his head deeply in gratitude.
the two finished the closing remarks of the interview with fluidity. he handed the mic back to the staff, who thanked him with their heads bowed. but before he could leave, he pulled haruto aside and lowered his voice, “uhm, could you hold off on publishing this for a while?”
haruto blinked rapidly, a nervous look coming onto his face, “well, the editing and transcription of the video will take some time, probably a little over a month…how long were you thinking of keeping it under wraps, gojo-san?”
it was a plead to not make him push the publication date back further. satoru hums, “a little over a month?”
“yes, that is what my advisor gave me as a “grace” period in editting everything,” haruto nods, the nervous look on his face not disappearing once.
“that should be alright then, sorry for worrying you. a little over a month is fine,” satoru grins, feeling his chest bloom with warmth. “thank you so much for the interview, have a lovely day,”
and with that parting farewell, satoru rushed out of the building with his mask and sunglasses on and practically jumped into his car.
in the safety confines of his car, satoru rested his head against the wheel. his breathing was rapid and his cheeks were ablaze. was he really going to do this? he looked at his phone that had the directions sent to the nearest luxury jewelry shop, his eyes flitting across the screen to take all the information in.
“seriously, satoru?” he panted to himself, leaning back to his seat and looking up at his car roof, “it took some guy interviewing you to grow the balls to do this? really?”
he cursed himself for waiting so long, setting his car into reverse and speeding his way to the shop. he had his sunglasses, hat, and mask on as he exited his car, careful to try and not attract too much attention. if the media caught light of this before he could properly do it, he would have someone’s head on a spike - he didn’t care.
no one was ruining this for him. for [name], too. satoru wasn’t going to let the stupid papparazzi tarnish this moment, as they had done for so many other intimate ones before this.
satoru grit his teeth, pushing the shop door open and breathing a sigh of relief to find that it was empty. he looked at the displays they had out, acting calm when on the inside he was sweating bullets.
“looking for anything in particular?” the attendent asked him, not at all acknowleding his appearance which meant that his disguise had worked.
he cleared his throat, still looking down as he shakily replied, “wedding rings, wedding rings for men, please,”
thank god the attendent wasn’t an asshole or else satoru might’ve really just slammed his head into the wall in frustration. because the attendent just guided him in the direction of where the men’s wedding rings were. he didn’t speak more either, just hovering around in case satoru needed help.
“fuck,” he cursed under his breath, trying his hardest to focus and think about which one [name] would like the most. “fuck, what if i get him one he doesn’t like? what the fuck does that mean for us? oh my god,” he panicked.
and it was almost funny. a 6’6 lean guy practically clutching his chest to stop his heart from jumping out of his ribs and flopping around on the floor. he was seriously getting heart palpitations, satoru swore this is the most nervous he’s ever been in his life.
what the fuck would he say when he actually proposes?
“i love you, marry me?”
fuck no. gojo satoru wasn’t going to settle for a shit proposal like that. and he certainly wasn’t going to settle for a shitting ring either, but it was so stressful thinking of whether or not his boyriend (manifest: soon to be fiance) would like the one he picked out.
satoru never was the one with good fashion or style sense in the relationship.
he was freaking out.
some of the rings on display were too loud and extravagant that he knew [name] wouldn’t enjoy it, but then going for someting super, duper plain was out of the question.
“do you have a particular agenda in mind?”
“i have nothing in my mind right now,” satoru snapped at the worker, apologizing seconds later, “i’m sorry, i’m just really stressed right now.”
“it’s alright, many are when they come in. they see the displayed rings and get self-conscious of the one that they choose. well, just go with your gut feeling on what you and your partner would like. that’s the best advice i can give you. you know them best, after all,”
this fucking attendent was right, satoru knows his own boyfriend (manifest: soon to be fiance) better than anyone. he just has to see something to spark an inspiration in him.
and he thinks he’s found it when he looks at a particular timeless piece that is cushioned on a small red velvet pillow.
“what can you tell me about that one?” satoru asked, although he’s almost completely set on just buying it right now. it was perfect. the coupled ring that pairs with it was also so effortlessly something he would love to wear as well.
”that one is in the style of an eternity ring, with the VVS diamonds cut into an emerald shape, obviously. the metal is platnium with 11 carats,” the attendent skillfully answers, “goes for about 9,871,750 yen ($70,000 USD). we offer installment plans, though-”
“no, i’ll just take it, thanks, though,” satoru said, easily sliding his card over. “i also want the paired one too,”
“that one is-”
“you don’t have to tell me about it or the price, just box them pretty for me and i’ll be on my way,” satoru grinned, looking at the bills he had in his wallet and pulling out a couple 10,000 yen notes, (adding up to about 200,000 yen - $1,417 USD). as the attendent very meticulously packaged the rings safely, satoru slid over the cash to him.
“thanks for helping,” satoru said, tapping his card and approving the transaction before walking out of the store. the hefty cash tip left on the counter for the attendent to gleam at.
and if he thought that the picking the ring part was hard, now he had to come up with how he was actually going to propose.
he always said that he wanted it to be romantic, but with [name] already waiting at home there was no way he could set something up at their own house. and, honestly, he wanted this to not be so public in fear of it leaking to the headlines. so he would have to settle with making it romantic in his home.
but, the more he thought about it, the more carefree he felt in the atmosphere. as long as [name] was just there exisisting, that was all he could ask for. satoru carefully pocketed the velvet box into his pant leg, keeping the pair safe as he drove back home completely undetected by papparazzi.
when he got home, he had to stop himself from automatically calling out to his boyfriend (manifest: soon to be fiance). the “honey, i’m home,” died in the back of his throat, thankfully, so his arrival home was still a secret. he took off his shoes and walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom where [name] was most likely resting.
it wasn’t too late, but by now his bedtime routine was probably done and he was getting comfortable in bed.
and satoru’s assumptions were right because when he gently pushed the bedroom door open, he saw [name] cuddled into a pillow and watching the TV that was set up against the wall. upon closer inspection, satoru saw that the pillow he was cuddling was actually from his side of the bed. he was cuddling his pillow as he waited for him to come home.
that, unfortunately, made satoru breakdown in tears almost right away. his eyes stung with the salty fluid breaking through his composure. [name] was too far to notice, though, simply lifting his head and waving him over with a loving smile, “you’re home! wow, you were so quiet i barely heard you come in,”
and when satoru just silently stood at the doorway, his hand covering his mouth, that made [name] get up out of bed in worry.
“hey, are you okay? what happened?” then he saw the way satoru’s broad shoulders shook, rushing over and holding him in his arms in an instant, “was it the interviewer? are you okay, satoru? talk to me,” satoru only broke down more, making [name] comfortingly rub up and down his back with “shh”s slipping from his mouth every now and then.
“satoru, are you okay?” [name] worriedly asked, gently pulling him towards the bed and urging him to sit. once the tall man was sat down, he immediately wrapped his arms around him again, hugging him as tight as he could to give him some sort of comfort, “you’re scaring me, satoru, what happened?”
satoru took a couple of seconds to collect himself, holding onto [name] in his arms as a means of grounding himself. but if anything, it made it worse. he was reminded that [name] was really real and not some figment of his imagination. he wasn’t just some “dream” guy, he was real and he was his.
[name] was sitting in their bed with him and comforting him lovingly. he was real and satoru never felt as lucky as he did than right now in this moment.
“nothing happened,” satoru breathed out, pulling [name] back from his torso so that he could properly speak to him. “i’m okay, really,”
“satoru, you’re crying. it’s okay, you can tell me,” [name] said softly, pushing his wet bangs aside and looking into his teary blue eyes, “it’s okay,”
satoru bit his lip, admiring the features of his boyfriend for a couple more seconds. how gentle his touch was, the hand caressing his face only having the lightest featherlike feeling against his skin. how concerned his e/c eyes were, staring into him and understanding him like no one else ever has.
he is so beautiful, satoru thought to himself. he squeezed [name]’s hand that was resting in his lap, making the man look down at their joined fingers.
”satoru?”
“i just,” he took in a deep breath, “i love you so much, you know that right?”
he almost laughed at the suggestion, but [name] politely nodded instead, “of course i know that, you show me everyday. i love you, too,”
satoru nuzzled his cheek further into [name]’s touch, relishing in the way the man’s warmth fell onto his skin.
“i love you so much, i’d do anything for you,” satoru breathed out, looking past his wet white eyelashes and into [name]’s concern eyes, “i’d do anything, i mean it. i love you so, so, so much [name],”
“satoru, you’re really scaring me. what’s going on?”
“nothing bad, i promise. just, please, let me?” satoru begged, voice hoarse and tight as he pleaded with [name]. and with a patient nod coming from the man, he continued on, “you’ve made me so happy, happier than i’ve ever been, these past couple of years. you deal with me and my annoying bullshit everyday, you make sure i’m healthy and happy even when you’re so tired. you always take care of me, more than i give you credit for and i’m sorry that i’m so selfish sometimes. but, i promise i’ll do better. i’ll be better, for you. anything you want me to be, i’ll work so hard in becoming, for you. i want to make you as happy as you make me,” satoru gulps, feeling his throat closing up and his tears welling back up, “i love you so much, [name],”
taking in all of his words, [name]’s eyebrows furrowed in confliction. he still didn’t know if he should be concerned and worried or just let satoru go on. but then he felt his own eyes well up with tears when he felt how sincere satoru was being. how tight his large hand was holding his own, as if he were afraid that he’d slip away if his grip on him loosened even the slightest.
even when he tried lifting that hand up to wipe his tears away, satoru didn’t let him, keeping a steady grip on his hand. instead, his slender fingers came up to the side of his face and wiped the tears away with a calm smile on his face.
“you make me so happy, [name]. and i'm so happy to be here with you. you make everything worth it,” satoru said softly, “you love me so gently, so softly — unlike anyone else in my life has. you’re my entire world. i don’t know what i’d do without you here. i know i’m meant to stay by your side forever. i know my place in the world is wherever you are.”
there was a pause as now both of them were crying messes.
[name]’s eyes were shut as he tried to wipe his stream of tears away. so he didn’t see the way satoru dug through his pocket to take out the velvet box. and he didn’t see the way his hands shook as he propped the box to be open, didn’t see how nervous satoru looked in the moment of unveiling the ring.
what he did see though was the ring blaringly presenting itself to him and a grinning, crying satoru behind it. he heard the words leave his lips, “let’s stay together forever, okay? please, marry me, [name],”
and [name] didn't react.
not immediately. he was too shocked. his jaw had dropped and he looked between the ring and satoru, who was still happily crying. then, finally, he snapped out of it and enclosed his arms around his boyfriend’s (fiance’s?) neck and sobbed into his skin, “yes, yes, yes,” over and over.
satoru cried more, this time a smile on his face as he cried into the air. he felt the stream of wet tears go down his neck, but he didn’t pay them any mind. he only held [name] closer by his waist in a suffocating embrace.
he didn’t know if he believed in multiple universes theory, whatever that was, but he just wishes that if it were true: he’d find [name] in every single one. [name] was his one and only comfort in the hectic life that he lives, the one stable root that keeps him grounded.
the two seperated, smiling and laughing with each other as they messily kissed in celebration. when they pulled away, [name] and satoru watched as the latter shakily slipped the ring onto the former’s ring finger. and the h/c haired man had to cover his mouth once more at the sight. it was slightly loose, running on the bigger side, but it was perfect. he didn’t care. it could have been a paper ring and it would have been perfect.
“i love you satoru, so much, you don’t understand,”
“i love you more,” the other softly breathes out, staring at [name]’s ringed finger with pride, “more than you’d ever know.”
the two smiled and laughed at their confessions, joining in another hug as they were high off of their dopamine. wordlessly, satoru collapsed onto the bed with [name] laying on top of him. and as he took the other velvet box out, he tried slipping the ring onto his finger. but it didn’t even fit on his ring finger, so he had to work with it on his pinky.
“it’s kind of cute that way,” [name] says in amusement, comparing their hand size and laughing at the difference, “i like it,”
“if you like it that way, we can keep it this size, then,” satoru said simply, kissing the top of [name]’s head.
“wear it however you want to, satoru, it’s your ring,” [name] chides him, looking up to softly glare at him.
“the ring doesn’t mean anything by itself, you're the one that gives it meaning,” satoru says, squeezing [name]’s shoulders to bring him closer, “if you like it on the pinky, it stays on the pinky.”
rolling his eyes and deciding that nothing is going to get through his fiance’s head, [name] gave up on challenging satoru. instead, he cuddled closer into his side and breathed in his faint cologne and natural scent.
“i love you, satoru. my dear fiance,” he said into the fabric of his dress shirt, smiling against satoru’s ribs as he repeated the phrase in his head.
satoru didn’t bother biting back his smile as he tilted [name]’s head up to look up at him. he kissed him softly, gently moving their lips against each other in a passionate kiss. and when he pulled away, he made sure to keep eye contact as he said, “i love you more, [name], my dear fiance,”
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tohokuu · 1 year
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intense sex except you’re wearing his white button down and black socks with your legs over his shoulders while he pumps you full of cum.
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satorhime · 1 year
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໒꒰ྀི ˊ͈ 𐦫 ˋ͈ ꒱ྀིა ━ instead of gojo’s daughter forcing him into playing with her, he is the one who seeks her out. he quickly becomes obsessed with the little scenarios they play out, the way her imagination is just as overactive as his own is. he’s not a sorcerer then, just a dad getting bad service at his little girl’s pretend-cafe, a big goofy smile on his face even though the plastic of the tiny chairs digs into his back uncomfortably. you literally have to tell him to give her some space because she’ll be minding her business, watching a cartoon or doing homework and he’ll plop on down in front of her with an assortment of colorful nail polishes and beg her to paint his nails because he just loves spending time with his little baby girl omgie :(
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mvffy0 · 2 months
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“Walk this Earth Once More”
Jin Marito/F!reader
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I love Bucchigiri so much it’s unhealthy
Synopsis: Reader worriedly anticipates Marito and Matakaras upcoming fight
didnt read over this as per usual please ignore grammar mistakes and incorrect flow 💗🫶🏻
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From the very beginning, Jin Marito had marked poor little Matakara as his prey. Seldom was any Siguma squad member unaware of this fact, and over time, it became an unspoken rule to not even think about touching Matakara until Marito had his fun. Even Jabashiri, whose anger and obvious rivalry with Matakara proved to be both fiery and passionate, could not go near him. Going against the leader's word was taboo, and no score settled nor rivalry abolished was worth being on Marito's bad side.
You were made painfully aware of Marito's borderline sick infatuation with fighting a worthy opponent to 'satiate his hunger’ from your first encounter. You were both first years at the time, and as your school was notorious for its gangs and violent students, it was no surprise when Marito and Outa entered the fray. Rumours surrounding the two quickly spread, and after quickly gaining control of siguma, he challenged the strongest guy around (Doman Kenchiro) to a fight. Though you were definitely horrified by the guy, you’d witnessed a fair share of Marito’s early battles, and knew that during said fights he would go on and on about how his opponents could not ‘fill his stomach’. He then fought Kenchiro, whose powerful jabs thoroughly satisfied young Marito, and he had been chasing that high ever since.
This wild chase led to his fixation on both Arajin and later his friend Matakara from the moment he fought the pair. You didn't particularly enjoy hearing him prattle on about the 'lovely' feeling he got from Arajin's impossibly powerful punch during his fight with the boy mere months ago, him proudly flaunting the mark it left on his stomach and even grabbing your hand to make you glide your fingers across it. Sure, you were glad he was so passionate about something, and who were you to tell him to drop both his gang and fighting (which were practically his livelihood) for your sake? It would be cruel to strip away something he clearly enjoys, yet it still worried you when you saw him greet you with new scratches every day, never failing to mention the battered condition of the 'other guy' when he witnesses your pained expression. No girl enjoyed seeing her boyfriend get hurt, especially if that boyfriend just so happened to be a gang leader.
That supposed gang leader was currently laying in his hammock with you, dozing, curled over your body in a way akin to a feline. You smiled at him, and he stirred slightly before looking up at you, grinning his signature Cheshire grin before going up to lay his head on your shoulder. It seemed almost odd to see Marito so affectionate. After all, he was supposed to be some big, violent, terrifying leader of a gang. Before you dated, even the sight of him sent shivers ricocheting through your body. But now, as you played with his long, matcha-colored hair and prattled on about your day, you couldn't resist a smile, breaking your words for a moment to pull him in for a kiss. He questioned it for a moment, but was not opposed to the action and fervently returned your kiss with his own, much more passionate one. This was pure bliss, and you desperately wished things could stay like this forever. However, something, or rather, someone, had been on your mind lately, and you felt as though they posed a serious threat to your peaceful way of life.
You couldn't exactly put your finger on it, but something in Matakara had drastically shifted. It was clear that his mood as of late was due to his brother's recent passing, you couldn’t blame him for that. What you found incredibly strange though was his increasingly rash and violent behavior. You weren't one to seek out relationships with the members of Minato Kai — you were uninterested in gangs as a whole — but Matakara's gentle yet fierce demeanor and astonishingly kind persona were well known throughout your entire school, explaining your limited knowledge on the boy. You've seen him around, and through quiet observation, you could confidently assume that his current vicious exploits were nothing short of unordinary.
He didn't seem like the type to chase someone down; hell, just yesterday he jumped Hagure and Jabashiri, mercilessly kicking them repeatedly even after they were both clearly unable to get up. You had happened upon the scene purely by chance, immediately calling Marito and explaining the situation. Matakara fled shortly after, yet the hard expression on his face lingered in your mind. His face screamed that he didn’t want to fight, so what was his reason for lashing out? Matakara’s motivation was unclear, and his actions made no sense. It was as if someone, or something, was driving him forward, pushing him tirelessly towards his next opponent.
Another point deserving of a rise in concern was his sudden influx of strength. Since when was Matakara able to take on Jabashiri? Last you knew, they were so evenly matched that any fight between them ended in a draw or someone physically pulling them apart on account of how long it was taking. Yet, he beat him to a pulp, just like that. Marito was concerned, sure, but he didn’t fail to mention his excitement , as just after Asamine fought Nagare, he attempted to beat Marito as well. You were made aware of this, and you were convinced he would soon return. This worried you, as you knew Marito wouldn’t turn down a fight, and even though your boyfriend was worlds away from Asamine in terms of strength, something about this whole situation left a sour taste in your mouth. You had a feeling this wouldn’t end well.
You had decided to voice your anxieties to Marito one night as you both lay in his bed, bodies pressed against each other under his cushy blanket. An action movie was playing, courtesy of Marito, but he couldn't seem to pay attention to it. You called his name, attempting to garner his attention, yet his eyes wandered, seemingly lost in thought. You repeated your actions only to receive the same response (or lack thereof), and opted to snap your fingers in front of his face.
"Marito!" you called, and he startled, his grip on your waist tightening momentarily.
"I wasn't listening," he stated, sweatdropping at the sight of your annoyed face.
"Yeah, no shit," you sneered playfully before echoing your previous question. "I was asking if you were okay. You seem to have a lot on your mind." Looking at him patiently, you waited for him, gauging response.
Not one to hide things, he wasted no time in pulling you closer, the hand that was on your waist now sliding up to your shoulder, and his free hand supporting the back of his head on one of his many pillows, beginning to ramble about his current predicament.
"I've been thinking about Matakara..." he started, prattling on about his recent gain in power and how the younger boy even managed to land a few scratch and bruise-inducing hits on him, pausing his animated spiel to show you, all the while you remained conscious of the dangerous glint in Marito's eye. He seemed awfully excited, and you just knew he was planning something. Normally you wouldn't bother stopping him, as he was quite literally the strongest guy you'd met and could by all means hold his own in a fight. This time, however, you could not shake the feeling that something about this whole ordeal did not seem right. The current circumstances did not sit well with you. It was apparent you had to nip this problem in the bud before it got out of hand.
"Marito," you began, cutting him off before he could utter the words you were afraid he would. "I need you to promise me that you won’t fight him."
"Huh? No way!" he whined, encasing you in a tight compress and pressing his cheek against yours. "Things are just starting to get good, [Name], why can't I be part of the fun?"
You sighed, knowing this mini-intervention was futile, and opted to try to minimize damage instead. "Then, at the very least, promise me you’ll be careful, alright? Something just hasn’t been right with Matakara lately."
He nodded excitedly, peppering your face with kisses, earning a small laugh from you before he continued to jabber on about both Asamine and useless topics, his endless blabbering eventually lulling you to sleep. He should be fine, right? He assured you there was absolutely nothing to worry about. He was the strongest, after all; the only person close to him in strength was Doman, and he wasn’t interested in picking fights at all. You concluded your concern-filled day with a silent reassurance, ultimately deciding your worries were for nothing.
Your worries were in fact, not in vain. You watched, paralyzed with shock, as Marito got his ass handed to him by the last guy you'd assume could beat him. It was mere minutes ago when his sickeningly sweet voice fell upon yours and the whole school's ears via the intercom, beckoning Matakara to the outside fields for a duel. You abruptly left class and followed the horde of teenagers to witness the spectacle. At first, it appeared that it would be a swift victory for your boyfriend, as Matakara received blow after blow. However, seemingly out of thin air, the tawny-haired boy gained an astonishing amount of power and kicked Marito so hard he looked as though he could not get up. You resisted the urge to flee to his side, noting that Mahoro, who had tried to do the same, was being physically detained by Outa and promptly fainted in his arms.
The loss looked devastating on your part, and as the crowd cleared, you wasted no time in sprinting to your partner's side. A cold chill ran down your spine as the air thickened, each breath drawn taking considerably more effort than the last. Your feet were led drawing sluggishly across the gravel, the anxiety and stress in your body weighing you down. It felt as if it took eons for you to happen upon Marito’s limp body, and as you shakily lowered yourself to his unconscious form, a scream unwillingly left your lips. Your shaky hands traced his cold, battered, and bloody face, then immediately shot for his vitals. A reassuring wave washed over you as you felt the thumping of his heart through his carotid pulse. The relief that he was alive quickly subsided, as it was still a glaring problem that he was unconscious, and just like that, you began to panic once more.
The next hour was a blur. Outa, being the only one calm enough to take action, called an ambulance, promptly admitting him to a hospital room. You were tasked with the job of sustaining Mahoro, and though you were the opposite of overjoyed to be stuck with babysitting, you and the girl managed to find comfort in your shared turmoil. You softly rubbed her back as she sobbed beside you and calmly reassured her things would be fine, though your words did little to convince yourself.
It felt like years before the three of you were allowed to visit Mahito. You all accompanied him for quite some time, Outa saying his goodbyes after a while and dragging a sleepy yet stubborn Mahoro along with him, allowing you and the eldest Jin to be alone. The sun had set long ago, and the moon shined its tender glow upon Mahito’s bandaged face. You couldn’t help but think he looked absolutely gorgeous, and though he couldn’t feel it, you placed a loving yet careful kiss on his bruised cheek. You wished you had tried to stray him from that fight harder. The quiet lull of that night was accompanied by your silent tears.
It could be days or months before he woke up, that you knew. Still, you made sure to watch over him, bringing him flowers and gifts, and showering him with love you knew he could not feel nor reciprocate. You never failed to ramble about your day to him the way he used to, sitting by his bedside for hours on end. You were aware that he may not wake, but you no longer cared. Even if it took years or centuries, even as the seasons changed with your face and age consumed the both of you, you didn’t mind if you were to decay with the hospital he lay in, as long as there was a chance that Marito may walk the earth again, you would stay by his side, always.
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The Marito brainrot has consumed me
lowk scared for when an ep where marito wakes up comes out so i rushed the ending 😞🙏
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bakugoushotwife · 10 months
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hiii!!! i rlly enjoy your writing 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
oml ok idk how requests work but like, can i request sum for gojo? like sum smutty ;)
maybe something like make up sex ;))) honestly you have like sm freedom writing it because i jus need some make up sex w gojo 😩😩
tysmmm!! hope you’re having a great night
a/n: yeah we need to kiss for this one bestie !! no but i love what this turned into, i was stumped over what to make them fight about so luckily the beautiful @getosbigballsack saved the DAY! <3 i love u babies!! gojo looked so scrumptious in the episode i literally have not stopped thinking about him so please take this brain rot and enjoy it
summary: you've gone and spent your allowance too soon, and now your husband is home to deal with it.
cw: y'all-- uh established relationship, gojo, he's kinda mean at times ngl, spanking, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving) facefucking, cowgirl, , pet names, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, they are married i swear
wc: 3746 unedited
Allowance // Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
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“Hi baby! Welcome home!” You sing happily, getting up from the dining room table to meet your husband at the door as he enters. You smooth down the ruffles of your new dress, excited to show off what you bought with him in mind. When you round the corner, you come face-to-face with a less than excited Satoru Gojo. 
You stop in your tracks, his glare was intense and you knew that meant only one thing: you’re in trouble. He continues to stare at you silently, setting his keys down on the table with a loud clunk. He slipped out of his shoes, all while his icy gaze narrowed in your direction. 
“What did you do today?” He asks knowingly, giving you one chance to answer truthfully before he enacted his punishment. 
You start to wring your hands. You knew what this was about of course, but you had hoped to get yourself off the hook. You turn on your best pout, blinking up at him with your perfected sad puppy eyes, your long lashes only making your pout prettier. “Awh, ‘Toru,  listen–” You try sweetly, to no avail. 
“Ah, ah. Answer me.” He interrupts, to which you promptly shut your mouth. You brought this on yourself, you really did. You avert your gaze as he sits in his chair in the living room. The cushioned seat around him made him look like a King on his throne, staring down at his Queen forebodingly. Even his posture is intimidating; his arms folded over his chest and long legs extended far in front of him, one foot tapping expectantly. 
 “Did you lose your voice?”  He asks, tilting his head to the side, taking in your appearance. You look angelic as always, and he knew that was a new dress. It fits you perfectly, he must admit, tight at your chest and waist and barely covering your ass. The color was striking against your skin. God, you made this difficult. He was glowering with anger, more aptly called sexual frustration and desire. He had all the intentions of punishing your behavior. You were both busy all week, making it the longest he’s gone without you aside from work related trips. In an effort to make up for his absences and tardies, he gave you your full allowance two days early. 
He really does enjoy spoiling you, giving you an insane amount of money every week just for you to spend on clothes and shoes. All your hair and nails and lashes and waxes were paid for, whatever you wanted, you got it. However, there were certain rules. His sweet little house-wife wanted for nothing, and he would have it no other way. But you have to show your gratitude, because of him you haven’t worked in years. You have to make your allowance last until your next one, just because he knew you were impulsive and couldn’t do that every time, no matter the amount he gave you. Your tastes grew more and more expensive with every deposit in your bank account, though most of it was spent on beautiful outfits and gorgeous lingerie that only he would consume. You blew it all this time in one day, a new record. 
You shake your head, eyes trained on the floor. “No, I didn’t..” 
“No, what?” He arches his brow, waiting. 
“No daddy.” You correct yourself, swaying from side to side in your pretty little dress, showing how the material flowed out around you. “ ‘M sorry daddy, really…jus wanted to get all pretty for you.” 
Your pout truly was magical, your sweet face trying to bail you out of your punishment. He watched the skirt move for a minute, eyes trailing down your exposed legs and onto the new Alexander McQueen heels hugging your feet. So that’s where most of your money went. Undeniably, the shoes were made for his princess, but that was besides the point right now. All prettied up you were indeed, and he would make good use of it. 
“You know the rules, baby girl.” He says sternly, even the use of one of his many pet names for you seemed harsh. He spread his legs a little more in front of him, waiting for you to behave. His stance and authoritative tone made your pussy throb immediately. You did feel bad for making him angry, but you knew you wouldn’t necessarily dislike your punishment either, in fact you were looking forward to it. 
You stepped toward him, heels clicking against the beautiful hardwood floors of the Gojo home. He offered one hand out to you, the other supporting his cheek as if he was growing bored from waiting. Your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his slender ones and your cheeks start to warm, a knot growing in your stomach in anticipation. You step up onto the arm of his chair with your knees, getting your balance before laying across his lap, your elbows propped up on the other arm of the chair. He watched you with dilated pupils, all your effort to make him want you worked like a charm, as if you needed to do anything special in the first place. It had been a long week, followed by this stunt? You were definitely in for it this time. He hisses when he bunches the skirt of your dress in his fist, revealing a lacy and barely-there thong. 
You smirk to yourself now that he can’t see your face. You knew he liked it, you could feel his approval for the way you look poking into your stomach right now. You wiggle your ass for him, a soft giggle escaping your lips. That quickly turns to a gasp when his large hand smacks down on your skin, making your asscheek sting immediately. The surprise makes you jump forward a little bit, and he doesn’t hesitate to jerk you back. He gives an equally hard slap to your other cheek, and the pain is sweet. You like the way it burns paired with his satisfied grunts as he watches your recoil each time. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be counting?” He reminds, not much of a question at all. His typical grin is replaced by a dark smirk as he applies another spank to your backside. 
“Three.” You hum, wiggling in his lap inadvertently. He chuckles at the sight of you, shaking his head. You’ve only given him one option, to increase the rate and intensity. 
“What a bad girl I have. Disappointing daddy like this.” He clicks his tongue. You whip your head around at this, you weren’t a bad girl! You just wanted to dress up for him, you couldn’t help that the rules were gonna keep you from doing that! He’s pouting when you look at him, really putting on a show. The force of his slap makes you squeal this time, and you can almost feel the handprint branding in. 
“Nuh-uh!” You protest, heartbroken by his words. He keeps you from arguing it further with another harsh spank, burning the skin and making tears prickle your vision. 
“Yes-huh.” He mocks, another spank. “You can’t even count like you’re supposed to. Such a naughty thing. Makes me so sad.” He sighs, eyes glued to the darkening skin of your rear. He was in fact leaving handprints, and he loved the way it looked. 
“Six!” You call out to make up for the ones you’ve missed, your brain getting scrambled under the gorgeous pain and his mean speech. Your body was consumed in heat, your panties growing uncomfortable against your soaked middle. “Daddy, I swear ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean’ta disappoint you!” You pout, the last words coming off your tongue in horror. He doesn’t accept the apology, another smack rippling across your sore ass. “Seven!” Your chin wobbles.
“Go ahead and cry. Maybe if you cry for Daddy, I’ll forgive you.” He grins, hand coming down on you once more. “You’ll have to make it up to me, since you’re such a spoiled brat. Why would you ignore my rules unless you were a bad girl? This isn’t even a punishment for you, look how wet you are!” He teases, clicking his tongue as his fingers press against your clothed hole. You can hear the squelch of yourself, lewd and loud and the only sound other than his sadistic chuckles. “Tell me you like it, angel. Tell me the truth…” 
“Eight,” You whimper, writhing in his hold now. The pain was turning your vision white in the corners, but you still didn’t want him to stop. He was right, you were a bad girl for spending all your money in one day, you could have picked less expensive pieces, but you wanted to push Satoru to his limit. You sniffle, the tears welling up so big they cloud the rest of your vision. Your ass is almost numb when you feel his hand again. “Nine! ‘M sorry, imma bad girl ‘n I love your spankin’s..” You whine, fat tears finally rolling down your cheeks. 
He hums, reaching for your chin so he can see your face, cheeks red and lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’ve been biting down on it. Your tears make you even prettier, coating your lashes and making your eyes glossy. He loves it, watching your sweet tears fall off your face to be absorbed by the fabric of his armchair. “Can you make it to ten, dollface?” 
He asks, gently wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “That could make it up to Daddy.” He hums softly, though his ultimate concern is your limit, and you know that too. You nod, if you’ve made it this far one more won’t break you. He smiles brightly, patting your cheek gently and letting your face go in favor of one last punishing spank of your bruised flesh. He rubs the skin after, trying to soothe it while he thinks of what he’s going to do to you next. 
Your eyes close under his now gentle pressure. Your ass pulsates and your pussy throbs with need, your biggest concern now was earning back your husband’s favor.
“Ten. “m really sorry, I mean it! Wanna make it up to you, really make it up to you..” You breathe apologetically, waiting to move until he tells you that you can. 
He hums at your sweet apologeticness. His princess truly owns his heart, and he could never stay angry with you. His anger melted the second he saw you, but he had to follow through on his word. Plus, it was fun to see you so ruined like this. He wonders what you may have in mind, so he arches his brow and waits for you to speak. 
“Let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please?” Your voice was permanently warped into a pouty whine it seems. He chuckles at your suggestion, how could he ever turn that down? 
“Go ahead angel, just for a bit. I’m gonna breed my brat.”  He says dauntingly, gently pushing you off his lap. His hands support your waist as you lower yourself to the floor between his legs. His bulge was staring at you, painfully restrained by his pants. You pouted up at him and shook your head, reaching for his button and zipper. 
He hummed at your attentiveness, leaning up so you could drag his pants and boxers off. You giggle softly as his member slapped up against his abdomen upon release. You look at his dick with awe. It was just as pretty as the rest of him, long and curved just to abuse your sweet spots. His tip was an angry purplish-red, and pre-cum beaded at his slit. You licked your lips and looked up at him, dainty and soft hand wrapping around his lengthy shaft. You could barely close your hand around him, fingers far from touching. He took his own bottom lip in his mouth to keep from sighing, your hand alone tremendous relief. 
He fights the urge to close his eyes, wanting to watch his sweet brat take him. His hands grip the arms of the chair, the suede fabric the only other identifiable feeling other than your warm throat gripping around him. He was heavy in your mouth, tip poking at the back of your throat with inches left to swallow. You decide to bob your head along what you have so far, eyes fluttering closed so you can focus on the feeling of his ridges rubbing against your tastebuds. Your throat relaxes, letting you take in the rest of him with a gentle moan, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. He wondered if you could feel his cock pulse the same way he does, watching cute tears run down your cheeks again, no doubt pushing your skills to accommodate him. He needs more of you, his cock never deep enough. You look so beautiful, rubbing your legs together to relieve your own ache for him, he can’t help but moan out too, reaching for a hold fashioned of your hair. 
“You can’t go so slow, princess. I thought you were going to make it up to me?” He smirks, forcing your head along him. You gag around him and he makes an animalistic growl, striving for that choking noise again. He fucks into your face just as hard as he pushes your head down. You have to hold his thighs, digits gripping his lean legs for your life. He giggles at your struggle, though he knows you’re more than happy to please him. He keeps going until he hears that gurgle again, the sign of your struggle to take all of him in. Tears roll freely down your cheeks at this point, your mouth just a hole being used.  
He pulls you off of him, relishing in the saliva coating your lips and the heaving of your chest. “Climb aboard.” He hums, looking down at his painful erection and back up at you, his perfect princess but bumbling brat. “Take the dress off though.” He adds with a scrunch of his nose, anxious to see your perfect body under the pretty dress. 
You nod and peel the dress off, discarding it into a pile in the floor. You slid out of your heels as well, thinking it wise with your task ahead. His eyes grow wide at the sight of you, a matching lacy blue bra cupping his favorite breasts. “It’s pretty, princess. You’re gorgeous, need you to come sit on me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, watching tentatively as you unlatch your bra and let it fall to the floor as well. “You might as well take the panties off too, then.” He grins, pearly white and sharp teeth sparkling at you. 
You grin as well, bending over to slide the soaked garment off, throwing them at him with a giggle. He catches them, sticking his tongue out to taste your arousal off the soiled center. He hold your eyes the entire time, crystalline half-lidded orbs putting a spell on you. You shudder at his intensity, humming as you crawl back into the chair. He tosses your panties over his shoulder, licking his lips from your taste. His only focus is you. Your thighs straddle his hips, his weeping member already poking at your slick entrance. He just grins and places his hands on your hips, pulling you down to take him all at once. You gasp, the sharp burn of him against your womb was a feeling you never adjusted to. 
It was one he loved, both the feeling of your suffocating walls clenching and unclenching around him and the look of pleasure on your face before you’ve even started to move. He smiles, knowing how to get under your skin just like you did with him. He pulls his touch back, folding his arms behind his head. He looks up at you, eyes wild with mischief, tendrils of his shaggy white hair splaying over his muscular arms and the fabric of the chair to create a beautiful contrast. “This is your punishment, princess. Gotta do all the work yourself or I’m not gonna touch you.” 
You whine, bracing yourself on his chest. “So mean, Daddy.” You puff your cheeks, but start to slowly bounce on his lap, the pleasure of him bumping against your pleasure spot already making it hard to keep your pacing consistent. 
“I can show you mean, if you say that again.” He threatens, though his features display amusement. He does find it adorable that you can’t keep yourself together past a few cute bounces, inflating his ego even more so. He has to fight the urge to take control, though he’s not sure he can do it much longer with your pathetic attempts at riding him. It’s his idea of a joke, making his pretty little brat take the top for once. It was clear who took care of you, and that alone was making your cheeks warm in embarrassment. 
As if you could read his thoughts, you bite down on your lower lips and commit to thirty seconds or so of consistent bouncing. Your face scrunches up in frustration, and your perfect pout is back on display. 
“Aw, baby girl, what’s wrong? Can’t fuck yourself the same way Daddy does?” He hums curiously, his pretty pink lips curling into a grin. 
You shake your head, letting your head fall forward into his neck. “No Daddy, I can’t.” You admit, defeated by his blatant show of his dominance over you. 
He chuckles, patting your hair lovingly. “Aw, now that’s okay sweetheart. I’ll take care of you like I always do.” He gently reminds, bringing his hands back to hold your waist. He stands up with you, walking a short trek until your back smacks against the living room wall. He grins cheekily when you wrap your arms around his neck. He shifts his hands to support the underside of your thighs, and you know he has the strength and the stamina to hold you here until he’s satisfied. 
“Now, much better.”  He hums in your ear, looking down at where your pussy swallows him up. He pulls himself out to the tip, plunging into your cavern without a second passing in between these actions. He does it over and over, enjoying the way your body relaxes now that he’s back in control, as if he wasn’t to begin with. You’re still clutching him for dear life, but he’s used to that. Your face softens, only pleasure in your mind. He loves seeing you like this, being the reason you’re so blissful. He groans at how easy it is to slide in and out of you, dripping wet for him and he didn’t even have to work you to that point. “You’re still Daddy’s good girl, gripping me so tight like that.” 
You moan at his praise, continuously squeezing down on his length to make him happy. He fills you up so perfectly, his pace starting to increase, your head rolling back against the wall as well. He bites at your neck, the column just too delicious to ignore. Your moans amplified, and he could feel your throat vibrate under his teeth. He leaves marks on your jaw too, sucking deep hickies all over your dainty flesh.
“This is how you’re prettiest, princess, these are my favorite decorations.” He says in reference to his teeth marks and bruises covered in saliva that pepper any skin he had access to. His breath grows heavy, the feeling of it fanning over your new markings makes your skin tingle and goosebumps spring up in place. Your cunt only grows tighter as he fucks the shape of him into it, making him sigh happily. 
You can only speak in jumbled whispers of his name and moans, never more grateful for support than you are for the wall behind you, the ability to hold yourself upright long gone. Your hands slide up to tug on his hair, the feeling of his silky tresses giving you something to focus on. His pretty noises feel like a reward after what you’ve done, deep grunts and breathy moans gifted directly into your ear. 
“It’s been so long, princess. Didn’t get to have you all week, then you go and disobey me.” He clicks his tongue and grins at you. “I think you just wanted Daddy’s attention, hm? Did you just miss me angel?” He teases, the force of him making your body jump up and slide back down the wall at every thrust. 
You do your best to nod, and Satoru knows you’re past the point of being able to speak coherently. He was splitting you in half, you could feel him in your stomach and it burned so deliciously. “Mhm.. missed daddy s’much.” You wail, the rubberband in your stomach was stretched, so much tension that was about to snap and leak out all over him. 
He knows this, of course, trying to time his release with your own. As mean as he could be sometimes, your pleasure was still his goal, and he wanted you to reward him for all his work. “Go ahead, princess. I wanna feel it, go ahead and come for Daddy.” He coaxes with gentle kisses to the bruises he made. “I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.” He purrs, watching your eyes roll back with a satisfied grin. 
You cry out, knuckles turning white under your grip on Satoru’s shoulders. You nod in acknowledgement of his words, and he can feel you spasm around him to signify your release. He coos loving words to you, eyes glued on your cream creating a ring around the base of his dick. It’s so satisfying, watching you jerk with sensitivity and struggle to hold on. He loves this, his cock jumping inside you before his cum coats your insides. You swear it's in your guts, fee
ling impaled by his cock still pinning you to the wall. His head rests against the cool wall beside yours, but you can see the smile on his face. You smile too, breathing heavily and your brain feels like it’s floating in your skull. You know if he set you down right now that you would fall to the ground, legs still shaking in his hands. 
“I think you’ve learned a valuable lesson, princess.” He coos, pressing his lips gently to your forehead. He snakes his arms around your waist before he begins walking with you again, this time towards your shared room. “We can review for the rest of the night, just to be sure you really understand.” He adds, smirking cheekily. “And I’ll go to the bank tomorrow, just promise Daddy you’ll be smarter with your money.” He says with an affectionate slap to your ass while all your weight is supported in his other arm. 
“I promise Daddy.” You hum, hugging his neck and pressing your upper half against him. You absolutely would spend all your money the very next day if it means you get this punishment again. 
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v0idim · 5 months
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✩ ˚ . ⋆"Small Encounters"⋆ . ˚ ✩
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Itadori Yuji x Reader
!College AU!┆!Basketball AU!
You attend a College in the Middle of Tokyo, majoring in Jazz studies as a Pianist. After accidently bumping into Itadori Yuji, the star of the basketball team, a friend of friend, you seemed to have caught his attention.
Chapters
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ "First small Encounter" ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ "Second small Encounter" ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ "Third small Encounter" ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
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archonsabyss · 7 months
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I keep to myself on this blog. but I'm desperately looking to find some little hidden gem accounts, newbie (or not) blog writers <3
If you see this. Pls reach out because idk how deep I'm going to have to look for yall 😅
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4y3sh4 · 3 days
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I need one of you creative bitches to write a HSM fic but with a jjk character (GOJO) like I wanna be Gabriella and I wanna
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hoshigray · 2 months
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Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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bnpd · 1 month
Text
❝ Off-Limits ❞
"There's been a big mistake."
Your dad gets hired as the new men's basketball coach at a top university back home, while you're a transfer student. But what happens when the summer fling you had last summer happens to be the captain of his basketball team, Gojo Satoru. Everyone knows the coach's daughter is off-limits.
College Basketball Player! Gojo x Coach's Daughter! Reader
sorry guys i'm too obsessed with basketball player gojo, so enjoy another AU of basketball gojo.
SMUT under the cut.
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“Fuck, baby,” he whined in your ear as his hands rested beside yours against the mirror in the snug bathroom.
He ground his clothed erection against your semi-lifted skirt from behind. The force of his grinds, pushing you tightly against the bathroom mirror and you’re pushing back against him just as eagerly. 
The mysterious stranger sensually glides one of his hands from your hips to your throat, securing you in place as the other rubs your clothed clit. The cool touch of his fingers leaves goosebumps behind, but you want them hot between your thighs instead.
In a dimly lit bathroom of a crowded house party, your moan is faintly heard between the heavy bass music thumping through the walls. The small bathroom feels hot, as the both of you share bated breaths, breathing each other in. 
At a specific roll of his fingers on your clit your head rolls back against his shoulder, “Yes,” you beg breathlessly, “Yeah? You like that?” He mocked, “I’ve only just rubbed you through your panties,” he teased with a click of his tongue, “Needy girl.”
You whine when his fingers leave you cold, and deprived. The faint rattle of his belt unbuckling quickly has you perking up at the sound. 
There’s something about the adrenaline of messing around with a stranger at a party, a sexy one at that. Your hometown friends had invited you to an ‘end-of-summer’. You had been dancing and drinking with your friends when he approached you. 
His captivating blue eyes were the first thing you noticed about him, and you’re sure the other women did too. But for tonight, he only had eyes for you. And that was enough. It’s not like you’d ever see him again anyway. This was simply for fun.
You jolt when he yanks your panties down, and clench when he slaps the tip against your ass, leaving behind small remnants of his pre-cum. You can’t help the cry that leaves your lips when he rams into your dripping cunt. And he can’t help the way his swollen cock, hardens even more at your meek mewls.
His hand leaves your throat to slide under your shirt to cope the feel of your tit. “Knew this pussy would be nice for me,” both groaning in unison at a particularly hard thrust. 
You press yourself back in an attempt to mold yourself together with him, wanting—no—needing, to be under his skin. 
He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, licking a stripe from your neck to the back of your ear before pecking the shell of it, “Satoru,” he says, “My name,” he clarifies shortly after.
“Say it,” he commands you, snapping his hips forward and into your cunt. You clench around him, “ ‘Toru,” you cry out.
He groans, lacing your fingers together against the mirror. Your eyes are lidded, but you can see how he stares at you through the mirror. His mouth is slightly open, eyes furrowed in a needy manner, but the way his eyes are lazy yet enticing does it for you. His stare is dark. 
He pulls out quickly to manhandle you onto the counter, spreading your legs open before slamming his lips against yours. His tongue forces its way inside your mouth, dragging itself against yours. Passionately stealing your breath away.
His lips remain attached to yours while he hurriedly slips his jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but Satoru has always been an eager man. He pecks your neck again, looking for a weak spot. When he hears a throaty moan he knows he’s found it. 
He continues to mouth at the particular spot while you bury your hands in his hair, bringing him close. 
You impatiently kick the rest of your panties off. Your hands grip his hair tighter, and he groans at the pull. He pulls away from your neck to look up at you. And you’ve never found anything more sensual. 
His lips are wet and swollen from suckling on your neck. His hair is messy from how much you’ve tugged at it. His eyes stare up at you through his white wispy lashes. 
It’s the submissive look on his face, but his possessive hold on you that makes you want him in more ways than sex. 
You need him now. 
“Need it,” you beg, grinding your wet slit on his erection. He hisses at the contact as he watches you with a hooded gaze. You bring your index and middle finger into your mouth to swipe your tongue before dragging them down to your cunt, spreading it open before him. Urging him inside. 
Satoru keens at how compliant you’re being. So fucked out on the counter. Your skirt bunched up to your waist, breathing ragged, panties dangling off your ankle, and tank top slipping off your shoulders.
“Please,” you beg once more but before you can beg again, he’s gripping your thighs to keep them open, and positions himself between your folds. You watch in anticipation as he spits on his cock and you both watch as it drips down your cunt. 
He slams into you before you can blink. His pace is brutal and fast. 
You’re delirious on the counter, as you tightly wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. You nuzzle his head in your neck and tightly cling to him while he pounds into you. Every thrust is rewarded by a moan louder than the last. 
Satoru slips his hands under your shirt once again, palming both of your tits, “Fuck, never had a pussy this good,” he grunts when your fingernails dig into his back, leaving behind crescent moon-like marks. 
You’re unable to even think as you feel the best you’ve felt in a long time. It feels like you’re floating. Your mind has gone completely blank of thoughts except for the chase of your orgasm. 
By the way, it’s a building, you’re sure it’ll be a strong one. Your toes curl when Satoru’s cock changes angles, and you’re ascending faster than before. “Right there,” you urge him. Your back arches when you feel your orgasm approach, and Satoru groans against your neck as your cunt clenches around him. 
“ ‘m close, Toru,” you whimper when his thumb comes to rub tight circles on your clit. “I know. Me too, baby,” his moans increase in volume.
It's messy, desperate, and nasty. 
“Can’t get enough,” he confesses with a broken moan, “You take me so well, ‘s so warm inside your tight pussy.” 
Your body completely tenses so hard your leg slightly cramps when you cum, and your mouth drops open in a soundless moan. Satoru’s eyebrows furrow as he pushes harder against your tightly clenched cunt. You ride out your orgasm, and before you know it a mini-orgasm comes shortly after. 
You pull his lips in for a heated kiss, and Satoru hugs you closer to him. 
He’s desperate to reach his orgasm, and before you know it he whimpers one last time before pushing himself impossibly deeper, shooting his cum deep inside you. You’re both panting against one another’s mouths. 
He stares into your eyes before kissing you again. This time it’s slow and earnest, but just as desperate.
He pulls away one last time to peck the side of your face, smoothing down strands of your hair. 
The rest of the night was amazing. After Satoru cleaned you up and urged you to put on his jacket, he’d gone to fetch you some water. Then invited you for a late-night walk on the beach. He had set his jacket down on the floor somewhere near your stuff and urged you to take your shoes off so you could walk in the water. 
The beach had been dark, yet beautiful as the moon provided dull silver lightning. The wind moved the palm trees in a dancing trance, as the waves crashed against the shore. Every once in a while Satoru would gently kick some water at your feet and you’d gently gasp at the coolness. 
There was just Satoru, and you. The moment was perfect. 
His hand grips your hip as you lose your balance on the powdered sand, tugging at you from behind as you crash into his chest.
“Trying to run away hm?” He teases from behind, you want to giggle at his cuteness. You decide to toy with him for a bit, “Yes. Can you catch me?” You turn to face him, walking backward as you smile playfully at him. 
He raises an eyebrow at your admission, but you turn around and run away from him before he can blink. 
You speed off giggling, and the adrenaline of the chase as you breathe erratically when you hear him gaining on you. 
If Satoru wanted to, he would’ve caught you the second you took the step forward to run, but you liked the chase, and he liked the chasing. 
He smiles as he hears your tiny chuckles of amusement.
You feel him hot against your back, and you squeal into the night when his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you into the air. 
“Gotcha,” he boosts. You’re laughing in delight while he’s admiring your beauty with a dopey smile on his face. 
He briefly places you on the ground, and you turn to jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. His hands are on the back of your thighs, caressing you. 
You stare into each other’s eyes. He’s looking at you so earnestly, you think you might be sick. 
“Kiss me,” his deep voice murmured into your mouth, “until I’m sick of it.” Your eyes connected with his, and his eyes seem as mesmerized with you as yours are with his. 
You press your lips against him and he tightens his hold on you. He puts you down on your feet to completely undress himself, before pulling you again towards the water. 
“What if someone sees us?” You hesitate, “My dad owns this side of the beach, no one will.” He smiles at you, and you almost choke at how easily he admits that. You wonder what his dad does for a living, and what he does. 
He walks into the water, waist-deep, and extends an inviting hand. 
You pull the rest of your clothes off, unintentionally giving him a strip tease. Satoru’s dick hardens as he watches you bend over to pull your skirt, and panties off. He almost groans when your bent-over figure gives him the slight outline of your cunt from behind.
Your nipples harden as the cool air hits your naked form, walking toward the water with hesitation. Satoru’s bright eyes never leave your face. Too entranced by your natural beauty. 
He kneels as you approach him and the water now rests on his shoulders. When you’re as close as you can be, his hands grasp the back of your thighs under the water, grazing them with his fingertips. 
You can’t help the feeling of delight that curses through you when you see Satoru’s sweet expression under you as he peers at you through his lashes. He presses you closer to him to press a kiss below your belly before sliding his hands up.
He continues to trail kisses up your body as he rises from the water the higher he gets. Water dripping all over his toned body, wetting you in the process. In more places than one. 
You feel his erection press against your stomach, and you pull him closer to capture your lips on his. He eagerly responds with a moan, your hand goes to grip his cock, pumping him leisurely. He groans against you, his body tightens and you watch as his muscles flex, drooling at the sight of him.
He breaks the kiss to press more against your neck, “The most beautiful woman I’ve seen,” he declares.
He takes you again that night. In the sand. And again, in the car the next morning because you both fell asleep on the beach after going back to his car to get some blankets. You shared more than just your bodies, but your hearts. He’d bared himself open to you, and you to him. You just wished you would’ve known more of him sooner before it all got messy. 
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Summer had been amazing, to say the least. You had moved back to your hometown at the beginning of summer after your dad had been hired at a top university to coach their men’s basketball team. Out of convenience, you had transferred to said university to be closer to home the same semester. 
Things were working out. Your dad had invited his new team to have a small get-together at your house for some team bonding and to get to know one another before the season started. 
You were fixing your hair in the vanity as loud voices came from downstairs, touching up your lipgloss one more time before heading down. You were excited, to say the least, your dad had been so thrilled to tell you about the team.
You heard the laughter and chatter get closer as you neared them. 
Gojo had been laughing at something your dad had said when your mom had hinted at a near arrival, you. Geto had tapped Gojo’s shoulder and motioned to the figure that had just entered the room, and watched in disbelief as his entire world crashed before his eyes. 
Gojo could feel his heart drop when his eyes locked onto yours, and both of your eyes widened in shock. Before either of you could think, your dad broke the silence. 
“Boys, I’d like you to meet my daughter.”
And everyone knows the coach’s daughter is strictly off-limits.
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feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ��� join my tag list :
TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm
©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.
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faexoxoxoxo · 3 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓...
ᓚᘏᗢ basketball player gojo x reader x basketball player geto.
✎⁠ 18+, overstimulation, pure filth, smuttt...
✎⁠ dividers by @cafekitsune
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It was simple, really.
Suguru loved you, Satoru loved you, and they both wanted to see you wearing a jersey that had their name on it during the teams basketball tournaments.
Again, simple. They could've worked out a schedule and taken turns having you wear the names. Heck, you even offered to customize a new jersey with both their names on it, but nooo, like everything else in life, your boyfriends just had to make a bet about this.
Whoever made you cum the hardest got to have you wear their jersey.
~~~
“Aww, look at your pretty pussy, baby. filled her up real good, huh? Such a greedy little hole...”
God, you wished you could smack the proud grin off Satoru's face, but right now, with his head between your thighs, long tongue dipping into your weeping, overstimulated, cum filled pussy, all that came out of you was a broken string of soft whimpers and moans, twisting and turning as Satoru coxed you over the edge for the third time.
You tried to squirm away, but they wouldn't let you. Suguru had a firm grip on your legs, keeping them wide open, while Satoru seemed drunk of your juices and his own cum, hungrily lapping at everything you had, refusing to let a single drop of it go to waste.
Turning your head, your dazed eyes met Suguru's silently pleading with him to tell Satoru to back off, to put an end to this little game of theirs, but all you got in return was a smile. The smug bastard was enjoying this; it was obvious, with the growing strain in his pants and a barely noticeable flush on his face. It came as no surprise, really; you already knew how much Suguru loved watching you get ruined by Satoru.
“Hmm, What's wrong, princess? Satoru's not pleasing you enough?” Suguru cooed, wiping the drool off your lips with his fingers as you sucked in a deep breath.
“Ahhh...S...Suguru...no more…”
They really needed to stop; you'd pass out if they kept on making you cum...
“Nuh uh, baby, I plan to win this” Suguru laughed. Your teary eyed, fucked out expression, coupled with the plea, was enough to make him rock hard, “not about to let you wear this idiot's jersey tomorrow,” giving a harsh slap to your thigh and making you gasp, his grin widened, hand now moving to pull Satoru's head away from your cunt.
“Hey!” Satoru groaned, “Fuck you, man, everyone knows I'm the strongest.” cussing the black haired man as he’s pushed aside.
“Right, right,” Suguru mocked his playmate, flipping you onto your back, “now be a good boy and lemme show you how it's really done.”
Without warning, he'd filled you up, with one hard swift thrust, hips slamming against your ass as he ferociously rutted into your weeping cunt, “My dirty little slut” Suguru grunted as you sobbed into the pillows.
"Sugu…ahhhh…noo can't…slow," you mewled back, arching instinctively as his cock kept on hitting the sensitive spot that made your brain turn to mush, “need to cum... Sugu...please, please, please, lemme cum.” You babbled, starting to feel the familiar coil building up inside your tummy.
“Yea? Gonna cream around daddy, and make him win...” Suguru taunted menacingly, angling himself to hit your sweat spot over and over again, while making eye contact with Satoru, who'd begun moaning while fisting his own hard, reddened cock.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you chanted fervently, toes curling as you moaned out little yeses and pleases. He'd done it again, Suguru’s dick always managed to reduce you into nothing more than a brain dead cock slut.
"Fuck...go on then,” he breathed, voice raspy and deep a sign that he was close too. “Lets show Satoru what a good girl you are for me.”
Your body quivers. Feeling Suguru throbbing inside your tightening pussy, you let out a soundless scream before coming all over his cock.
The sight was enough to have Satoru fall over the edge. “Shit... princess,” he groaned, looking at you through hooded eyes, as his cum spilled onto the bed and his abs in hot spurts. “Now I get why this asshole loves watching me fuck you.”
Chuckling, Suguru pulled you closer to his chest, keeping on fucking you ruthlessly through your high, making you whimper. “Gonna fill you up so much; you'll be leaking for days, princess,” he let out a long groan, his head falling back, thrusts growing hard and slow until he finally stilled inside you, his hot load filling you up to the brim as promised, his dark violet eyes meeting Satoru's sparkling blue ones.
“Damn it.” Satoru swore knowingly, he never liked admitting defeat, but Suguru'd won this round with his dick game. Well, no matter, this just meant he'd have to try harder again next time...
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✎⁠ I've always done character x reader, and this is my first attempt at character x reader x character so don't know how well I wrote it but hope you guys enjoyed...
✎⁠ likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated⁠ ♡
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kenntolog · 20 days
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ masterlist/about me!
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about me: call me miya, i’m 20 and i love love loveee writing :>> this is a jjk-centric blog since i’m mostly very interested in it, but am in lotsa different fandoms heh, maybe will write for them later. they will be mentioned in my multifandom works probably!!
about requesting: inbox is currently closed for requests!! i write for adult male characters mostly(+their teen versions occasionally) such as gojo, geto, sukuna, choso and nanami, and love to focus on fluffy moments with them. open to smut ideas and angst. be respectful when requesting please!!
cr to @chilumitos for the dividers, thank uu!!
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𝝑𝝔 cool boyfriend sukuna x loser girlfriend reader!
just small stories from cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s relationship!! set in college/university, with characters’ non-specified ages being over 18 :) mostly sfw, but nsfw might appear in the future.
you can find more content about this series under the tag “cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader”, where i answer questions and stuff!
a little bit about the special treatment loser gf gets…
a little bit about sukuna teasing and loving his loser gf…
a little bit about loser gf imitating sukuna…
a little bit about dry humping with sukuna…
a little bit about drunk sukuna being a softie…
a little bit about sukuna getting jealous…
a little bit about sukuna seeing you in a skirt for the first time…
a little bit about sukuna and reader’s first meeting…
a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf yapping…
a little bit about you helping sukuna dye his hair black…
a little bit about sukuna showing you off…
a little bit about how sukuna deals with a difficult question his loser gf asks him…
a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s first date…
a little bit about loser gf ignoring sukuna…
a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf watching ‘the notebook’…
a little bit about what sukuna thinks of his relationship with his loser gf…
a little bit about loser gf meeting sukuna’s family…
a little bit about loser gf doubting her relationship with sukuna…
a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf reader playing basketball…
a little bit about reader’s first meeting with sukuna’s teammates…
a little bit about sukuna fingering his pretty loser gf for the first time…
a little bit about sukuna and his gf’s first time…
a little bit about loser gf babysitting yuuji…
a little bit about yorozu messing with loser reader…
a little bit about sukuna buying his loser gf a red lipstick…
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𝝑𝝔 gojo using different ways to gain your attention…
𝝑𝝔 popular gojo x loser reader…
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𝝑𝝔 nanami waking up on the couch with you by his side…
𝝑𝝔 nanami sharing your childhood bed with you…
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𝝑𝝔 geto comforting his self-conscious partner…
𝝑𝝔 bully!geto and bully!reader…
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𝝑𝝔 a little about how loner choso thinks of your relationship…
𝝑𝝔 loner choso helping his bubbly girlfriend recharge…
𝝑𝝔 loner choso letting his girlfriend do his makeup…
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𝝑𝝔 jjk nsfw visuals!! (sukuna, gojo, nanami, choso).
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mggsv · 5 months
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CHEER FOR ME CAPTAIN !! ☆
f!reader x perv!gojo satoru (18+) | not proof read | reblog please!
summary : Satoru who’s hated you since he first laid eyes on you freshman year of highschool…Satoru who started teasing you then. Satoru who can’t stand the fact that you’re in college together- with you being captain of the cheer team and him a basketball player. Gojo who can’t stand that he didn’t fuck you before you gained a reputation.
warnings : reader is poc coded, pervy!gojo, bet making, porn with plot, reader’s nipples are pierced, degrading, hair pulling, gojo’s tongue is pierced, lots of dirty talk, slight spanking, mutual masturbation
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“She’s a stuck up cunt.” Satori’s voice rang out, filled with disgust as he watched your soft skin move in the small red skirt. “Not to mention a slut. I’ve heard the rumors.. of course she’s easy.” He scoffs. But his blue eyes said differently. His brows furrowed, concentrating on how easy you made it look. How your ass jiggled with every step. To say he was hard would be an understatement: he wanted to fuck, and every time he asked you said no.
The first time was graduation. You went to high school together and he finally noticed you. Freshman year, you were nothing more than another obstacle in his way in the halls. He never apologized for shoving you out of the way, or when he’d bump into you and ultimately knocking your things out of your hands.
But graduation…oh graduation. How cute you were wearing those little glasses and wide smile sported by your plump lips. It couldn’t get any better, but then you walked. Oh you walked…those smooth legs striding to get the well deserved diploma. Satoru hated that he didn’t see you before- all this time such a thing was lying in front of him….innocent and untouched. Trapped in baggy clothes and good grades. He wanted nothing more than to rub his long fingers in that small space between your legs and cup your juicy cunt until his fingers were coated in your slick. He wanted his face buried between your legs, tongue deep into your pretty pussy while you moaned his name. He wanted his cock deep in your heat, feeling your pussy tightening around his big dick.
Geto stifled out a small laugh as he watched you along with Gojo. “She’s a slut for not fucking you but everyone else?” They’re best friends- inseparable at that. Geto knew of Gojo’s little infatuation with you- He’s fucked you , so Geto’s commentary made it no better. Gojo gave him a side glare before standing, sighing dramatically as he ran a hand through his hair. “Invite her to the party later.”
“You know I am. Probably still won’t fuck you though.” Geto stands up with him. “That’s not what I-!” Blue eyes flicker at the sound of laughter. He almost moaned seeing you touching your toes..stretching, your ass in the air. Fuckkk he had many regrets, but you? His biggest. “Just- make sure she’s there. This time I will fuck her. Maybe we’ll date too~ think she’ll be open for marriage?” He had a little smirk as the pair left the gym.
Word of the party spread fast as it usually did. Knowing Geto threw the best parties. He was a sorority leader after all. What made the knees even better was Gojo being there. The all-star player, Geto’s best friend, the best fuck around. You yawned and stretched, looking at the text from Geto, and the unopened ones before that. He bugged you every other week about getting his dick wet again, it wouldn’t happen, though. Even when you guys did it, it was a one time thing and he knew that- Stil, he liked bothering you. You look at the text under it, ‘Wear your uniform too.’, and groan. You knew for a fact it was another little thing to try and get Gojo and you together. You didn’t like him much..he picked on you, and you hated people who did that. That being said, you never missed the slick touches he made when you passed him by. The way he came to your practices and watched you stretch. When during the basketball games he pointed at you before ultimately winning the game.
At some point people assumed you dated on the low. That was quickly shut down whenever he did ask you out, which was often.
“Oh come on..i’ll be all alone tonight.” Satoru had whined, arms wrapping around your waist, chin on your shoulder. He was sweaty, having just won the game. “It’s the weekend princess..cmon cheer for me again? G..O..Let’s go Gojo~!” He mocked your voice. Gojo’s face tucks into your neck, teeth grazing the tired skin.
“Fuck off Satoru.” you had pushed him off, ignoring the whistles from the team.
And it only started from there. It was strange how he wanted your attention now that you were someone worth something. But you couldn’t deny how hot it felt, perhaps it was just the rush of cheering on your feet for hours.
The party was no better. You walked through the crowd of people in different outfits- suddenly feeling better that you showing up in your cheer uniform wouldn’t be humiliating. This time you wore it with different accessories. Your curly hair in a half up style, wearing a pair of red thigh high socks to cordinate with the short skirt that showed the bottom of your ass per usual- this time without the shorts underneath.
“Look at you..” You hear Geto’s voice. Glancing up, you see him in nothing but a pair of sweatpants with his sorority’s symbol on his stomach. “Damn.” he coughs, nodding and grabbing a red cup. “Drink?”
“You know it.” frowning at the fact that he was alone. It was unusual. He and Satoru were always together. You glance down at the clear liquid in the cup before taking a sip. “Where’s the idiot?” You look around the room. Geto’s chuckles, bending down to your ear. “You want the truth or a lie?” It sent shivers down your spine, his hair tickling your shoulder. Scoffing, you move away from him a bit. “See, now you’re acting weird.” You begin to walk away, but didn’t get far. You jump right into someone, spilling the alcoholic drink on the both of you. “Shit! I’m sorry-“
“Damn Captain…I just washed my jersey and now look..tsk tsk~” Your stomach turned at the sound of Satoru’s voice. He had grabbed your hands, pulling you into him more. “So what are you gonna do about it?” He whispers lowly. His eyes were on you and you only. “Get off of me-“ You huff and push against his chest. He chuckles and lets you go, holding his hands up. The wet stain visible in the material of his jersey. You were silently thanking the universe that basketball season was over. “Sorry, Gojo.” you cough, staring up at him in a slight embarrassment. It reminded you of too much..it reminded you of highschool, and then you felt disgusted. Scoffing, you turn away from him.
“Oh come on- what’s your problem with me huh?” Gojo whined as he follows you. You wanted to be out of the house and quick as possible, not feeling the vibe anymore. Instead trying to get away from Gojo lead you anywhere but out. Pretty soon you were both in an isolated area in the frat house. You cross your arms, the alcoholic smell on your uniform starting to make you sick.
“My problem? My problem is you! It’s always been you. You’ve picked on me since high school and now I’m actually someone you see you want to fuck me! You’re weird!” Your face was flushed. Gojo’s little smirk turned into a small frown. You didn’t realize it but your eyes had watered, your arms tightening around yourself.
“And i can’t stand knowing that I wanna say yes.” you murmured to his surprise. He took a step forward, backing you against a door. Gojo’s face was close to yours. “Well shit princess if that was all you could’ve said that two “can i fuck you?”s ago.” Snorting his hand crept down to your skirt. You felt hot between the legs, the air around you both becoming insufferable. “Fuck this.” you grumble, opening the door to a bathroom. You both stumble inside, your hand hurriedly taking off your top. Your nipples sprang free.
“Holy fuck this is real.” Dumbass had said , his cock hard in his pants. you rubbed your thighs together, hands moving to tug at the pierced buds. “Stop standing there before I change my mind.” You rushed out, feeling a bit embarrassed. Gojo had muttered something along the line of not having to tell him twice..
“F-Fuck- fuck princess~! That’s it..ride that dick like I know you can..fuck that’s it-“ Gojo whines out a breathy moan, hand forcing your head back as he pulled your hair. Your wet cunt spitting out around his thick cock. Loud wet sounds mixed with your moans was music to Gojo’s ears. He was in a bliss. He didn’t care about the cold bathroom floor he sat on while you rode his dick- no he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He didn’t mind the way the tears ran down your face either while you begged..and begged for him to let your hair go.
“Mmpf~ T-Toru..Toru wait-“ You mewl out feeling his thumb press on your lower stomach, you didn’t think he could slip any further into you but he did. “FUCKK!” Your pussy gushes over his thighs, splashing against your stomach but you didn’t stop, no, you rode him the way you would’ve the last time he asked..and the time before that, and many many times before that. Your legs shook, a harsh smack landing on your ass while Gojo became a moaning mess. His eyes rolled as he started to meet your hips halfway, “Don’t stop,” He pants, “don’t fucking stop princess…fuck—- fuck fuck fuck..oh fuck that’s it. Gonna cum so hard baby.”
“Pussy was made for me wasn’t it? My pussy.” He groaned, leaning down to catch your sensitive bud into his mouth. You gasp, slowing down, grinding your hips against his while the cool metal of your piercing collided with Gojo’s tongue piercing. “Tell me it’s mine baby.” His teeth pulled at the bud, earning a slap on the chest from you as you clench around his thick shaft. Your clit throbbed at the feeling of him abusing your nipples. “I..It’s yours—mm, ahh-! It’s yours Toru baby..” You saw white, your breathe trembling as he started to rock you against him. You felt all of him too, he went in raw. “It’s mine?” he groans again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.
“..y-yes. Oh Toru’ mgonna cum..mgonna cum Toru! Please..please..” oh! he loved every bit of you. he loved hearing you just beg for the long awaited orgasm. He wanted to be your everything, the best dick you’ve gotten, the best orgasm you’ve ever had, better than anyone else, better than Geto. You felt your hands ride up his chest. He pulls back, sticking his tongue out to show off the metal ball on his tongue, a shitty grin on his lips while your hand goes to choke him. You but your lip, eyes staring into his as he lets go of your hair. He sets his hands on your hips instead, giving you another harsh smack. Such a slut.. you moan at the sight. “You want this?” You eggs you on. You nod eagerly. “want it..want it bad Toru..” You bounce with the help of his hands guiding you. His cock feeling deeper than before.
“I hope you’re on the fucking pill then.” He says, pumping another thrust or two before you’re clenching around his cock. You felt the wind leaving your body as you stared into his blue eyes, cumming with a loud cry. His eyes flutter, filling you up as promised. “Take it..fuck take it all princess. That’s it…good fucking girl princess.” You whimper, hand squeezing around his neck while you enjoyed the buzz of your high.
Once you were down enough to move, you wasted no time crawling off his lap. You sat back, closing your legs and shivering at the feeling of his cum running down your pussy. “Show me that pretty pussy princess..” Gojo glacéd at you through hazed eyes, panting softly as he stroked his now soft cock. Shyly you opened your legs…. “Fuck..” he moans, the last bit of cum dripping over his fingers. Your fingers start to rub your sensitive clit, jerking at the sensation. You watch him carefully while he did the same to you, blushing. Your fingers slip into the leaking hole, curling slightly as your back arched. “Shit..” Gojo moans at the sigh, feeling his cock twitch and the start of another round…
Neither of you knew how much time had passed when you bother returned to the still booming party. Gojo’s arm was around you- while you embarrassingly enough let him. You yawn softly, putting your head on his chest when you both finally found Geto with a blunt in his mouth.
“You both owe me.” You glanced at Geto and rolled your eyes.
“What? Owe you for what?” Gojo looks down at you and then back to his best friend. “I bet you’d fuck her tonight and I bet her she wouldn’t be able to stop denying you. I win, pay up.”
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riaki · 6 months
Text
nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader
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wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends
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i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!
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satoru hates arguing with you.
it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.
it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.
of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.
but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.
it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.
it was small. barely worth fussing over.
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he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.
a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.
"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.
his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.
you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.
"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.
(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)
you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.
he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.
you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.
"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.
you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.
"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.
he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.
then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.
"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.
his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.
(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)
but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.
"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.
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the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.
and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).
a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.
but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.
you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.
"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"
"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”
...
he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.
maybe.
a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.
it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.
"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.
"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)
his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.
you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.
he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.
the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.
what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.
eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.
wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.
despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.
and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.
"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.
"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."
you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.
"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.
(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)
"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.
"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.
you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.
he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.
you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.
you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.
you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.
you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.
"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.
even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.
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its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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