Tri Harder
Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo
originally posted on AO3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ im trying to stop being lazy and transfer more stuff lmao. saw challengers yesterday and it was pretty nice!! loved the tension
After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.
Ch 2, Ch 3 (will update links when uploaded but feel free to read on ao3)
fem reader, alcohol, making out, dry humping, vaginal fingering, stsg one braincell activities, NO ONE IS STRAIGHT
5.7k
MDNI
“Seven minutes in heaven? Really?” Geto asked, looking down at the brown liquid in his cup. He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste of the cheap beer. Perhaps he should have brought something from home. “Seems a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”
Gojo looked at the face Geto made when he swallowed, and decided not to fill his cup at all. “I’m not playing that,” Gojo affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Shoko slurred as she took another swig of her drink. The girl was able to drink anything no matter how vile the taste was. She shoved Gojo and Geto down to the floor where everyone else already heeded her request. Well, more like they allowed her to believe her strength could physically move either of them. “It’s my birthday, this is my party, and we’re going to play what I want.”
“What’s next?” Gojo grumbled, trying to comfortably fit his proportions to sit Indian style in the space allotted. “Playing Duck, Duck, Goose?”
Shoko slapped the back of his head so hard his sunglasses flew off his face.
Utahime laughed wildly as he put them back on his face while Shoko had quickly moved on from the act of aggression, whipping her head around wildly.
“Something wrong, Shoko?” Utahime asked between fits of laughter.
She said your name as her eyes continued to scan the room. “I don’t want to start the game until everyone is here.” She glared at Geto and Gojo. “Everyone is playing, after all.”
“We’re playing, jeez. ” Gojo rolled his eyes, although no one would be able to see the act of irritation beneath the shades.
Geto however, always seemed to know what Gojo was doing even when he tried his best to conceal his actions. “Play nice, Satoru. I’m sure this won’t be an all night thing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, but then perked up. He said your name questioningly, and looked over at Geto. “You know who that is?”
Geto cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger. “I think that’s one of Shoko’s med school friends.” He knew the name sounded familiar, but he never had a face to put with it. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned that they study for their classes together, or something like that.”
Before Gojo could respond, the doorbell rang, and Shoko was bounding for the door. Turning the deadbolt seemed to be incredibly difficult in her already drunken state, so Haibara rushed over to assist her.
Shoko squealed your name once the door was open, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re here!”
“In the flesh,” you chuckled as you wrapped an arm around her back to give her a small hug. She unlatched herself from you so you had space to step inside. “Happy Birthday! And I brought drinks!” A large blue cooler was behind you, and you reached for the handle to wheel it inside.
“Yes!” Haibara pumped his fist excitedly. “I got it, don’t worry!”
“Yu,” you cooed, placing a hand briefly on his arm, “you will always have my heart.”
“My heart's always yours, you know that!” Haibara answered back excitedly.
Gojo strained his ears from the living room to hear what you and Haibara were discussing by the doorway, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It seemed that you two were familiar. He furrowed his brow and looked at Geto. “How does Yu know her when we’ve never met her?”
“Are we supposed to know everyone Shoko knows?” Geto deadpanned.
“Well if she’s hiding hot friends from us, I’ll be mad,” Gojo huffed. Geto paid him no mind.
Shoko was practically salivating at the sight of the unopened cooler. “What did you bring this time?”
You laughed easily and pointed toward the keg in the corner of the room. “Whatever isn’t in there. You know that cheap shit always gives me a headache.”
“Oh, shut up!” Shoko rolled her eyes. “But anyway, you’re just in time. We’re about to play some games!”
You walked with Shoko along with Haibara, wheeling the cooler behind him, from the doorway to the living room where everyone was seated and waiting.
Gojo looked up eagerly while Geto looked up much more discreetly to get a glimpse of you.
You had on a light purple, bustier lace crop top with the perfect amount of cleavage spilling over the top. Gojo’s eyes trailed hungrily while Geto’s trailed much more tastefully to see the smooth skin of your stomach, belly button adorned with a pink, rhinestone belly button ring. A pleated, denim skirt that was almost too short to be practical sat snugly on your hips and gave way to lush thighs.
“I want to go first,” Gojo said quickly, perking up in his seated position. “This is one of my favorite games, after all.”
If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead. Shoko pointed an accusing finger at him. “ You didn’t want to play, so you and Suguru can decide who’s going last. ”
“I never said that,” Gojo grumbled, shrinking back down.
“Shoko, how about you introduce us to your friend before we start?” Geto suggested smoothly, more so because he didn’t want to sit next to a brooding Gojo. “Well at least I know Gojo and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet.”
Shoko was already head deep in the cooler, popping back up with a hard seltzer. “Oh, yeah. I guess you haven’t met her.”
You gave Gojo and Geto a small smile along with a wave before saying your name. They introduced themselves as well, and you extended your hand. Geto gave it a soft shake while Gojo took the opportunity to kiss the skin on the top of your hand.
“Great, now you have the burn the skin off your hand,” Utahime grumbled, all but pulling you away from Gojo’s grasp so you could sit down next to her.
“Will I get leprosy if I don’t?” you laughed, opting to sit on your knees.
“Probably something worse.” You wondered why she had such disdain for Gojo, but the utter look of disgust on her face made you not even want to ask any further questions. That was their business.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured, patting her knee.
Shoko plopped down on Utahime’s other side, and Haibara pushed the cooler in the center of the circle where everyone sat.
“The drinks are for everyone,” you said cheerily. “Please, take whatever you would like! I brought tons.”
Gojo didn’t hesitate to open the cooler, getting a limeade flavored hard seltzer; Geto opted for a mango flavored one. Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and Mei Mei all grabbed drinks as well, cracking them open simultaneously. Everyone clinked their cans together shouting, “Happy Birthday, Shoko!”
“Whoever chugs their drink the fastest gets to go first!” Shoko exclaimed.
“Wait, what are we playing?” you asked.
Gojo wasted no time in gulping down his beverage. Whatever game was going to be played, it looked like you weren’t going first.
Gojo slammed his empty can on the floor, beaming at his own victory. “Looks like I am going first,” he said pointedly at Shoko.
“Not like going first is going to make it land on the person you want, idiot,” Utahime deadpanned. She drained the rest of her can and crossed her arms over her chest. “But go ahead, let’s see if the power of suggestion is going to work in your favor.”
“ What are we playing?” you asked again. Everyone was busy gulping down their drinks and declaring what turn number they would have. You hadn’t even taken a sip of your drink yet.
Geto looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that made the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good ol’ seven minutes in heaven.”
Gojo used a foot to push the cooler to the side and turned his empty can on its side. He gave it a spin, crossing his fingers behind his back and mentally chanting your name.
“Any day now, idiot!” Gojo hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but of course no one else would have been able to take notice beneath the obsidian of his shades.
Gojo opened his eyes, and couldn’t help the shit eating grin that crossed his face. The top of the can landed squarely on you. “Was someone talking shit about the power of suggestion?” He cupped his hand to ear, leaning in Utahime’s direction. “Hmm? I can’t seem to hear anything.”
Geto placed a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Satoru, what did I say earlier about being nice?” he chided.
“You don't have to go in there with that vermin if you don’t want to,” Utahime assured, cupping your hand in hers. “He can just spin it again.”
Shoko’s head lolled on Utahime’s shoulder as she pointed toward a door in the corner of the room. “Over there,” she hiccuped. “Don’t fuck up anything in my closet.”
Haibara tapped something on his phone. “I’ll keep the time for you guys!”
“I’m a big girl, I think I’ll be okay,” you laughed. “But I promise I’ll scream if I need help, don’t you worry.”
Gojo took off his shades, folding them and placing them in his pocket. He extended a hand toward you, and you couldn’t help but gaze at the length of his legs clad in black jeans.Your eyes continued to trail up, admiring the way the black shirt he wore stretched across the taut muscles of his chest and shoulders. A perfect, dazzling smile graced his lips, and he must have known you would pause on those brilliant, blue eyes framed by icy lashes.
You took his hand and he easily hauled you up, hand on the small of your back as you walked a few feet to the closet.
Gojo opened the door, ushering you inside.
When he pulled in the door, even with the shroud of darkness it was evident the space was tight. Gojo’s hand patted the wall looking for a lightswitch, and opted to reach above him when he didn’t find it. He was successful when he found a string, pulling it to be illuminated by a pathetic excuse of a lightbulb.
The flickering bulb cast the tiny space in a yellow glow, revealing a clothing rack stuffed to the brim with clothes on hangers on one side of the wall. Boxes lined the opposite and back walls.
You took a small step back, and he took one forward. Your back hit the wall of boxes, and he made no motion to shy away from you. Instead he inched forward again, his minty, fresh scent invading your nostrils.
He placed a hand above your head and craned his neck to look down at you. His looks were truly a marvel. His complexion was completely free of any blemishes, and he had pink, plush lips. His azure eyes were reminiscent of magnificent Caribbean waters; relaxing, cool, calm, but every bit inviting and playful.
Gojo took the same time to look at you, appreciating how every feature fit your face perfectly. Eyes framed by long lashes, perfectly groomed eyebrows, a nose so cute he would pocket it if he could, and lips that he desperately wanted to sink his teeth into.
Your chest heaved against his as he snaked a finger into the belt loop of your skirt, pulling your hips snugly against his. He said your name in a low voice. “Tell me you’ll let me kiss you.”
“You can ki–”
He wasted no time bringing his lips down onto yours.
He pressed in closer, resting one of his legs between your parted ones as his lips moved insistently against yours. Not a sliver of space existed between your bodies, and if he gripped the loop he was holding onto any more tightly, it would have broken away from the rest of the fabric.
With him angling his head downwards and you tilting yours upwards, the shapes of your lips fit perfectly together. He was rough, uncaring about the frequent bump of your noses or the occasional grating of teeth scraping against each other.
His tongue traced the shape of your upper lip, then moved to do the same to your lower lip. You could still taste the limeade flavor of the seltzer he chugged down just moments before.
He bit down on your lower lip; the force was gentle enough to be arousing, but stung just enough to cause your lips to part on impact. You moaned against him at the feeling, one of your hands snaking around to grip the hair at the base of his neck.
“ Fuck, ” he groaned against your lips, moving the hand resting above your head to cup one of your breasts. He gave it an ample squeeze as his tongue pushed past your parted lips, exploring the inside of your mouth.
It was almost if he was aiming to consume you with the ferocity of his kiss, each movement more insistent than the last. His tongue stroked yours as the hand that gripped your breast started to move further down your body. His large hand cascaded down the dip of your waist that gave way to your hips. All the while, he continued massaging his tongue against yours, moaning into your mouth while he did.
Your other hand wrapped around his back, palm splayed while your fingers dug into the material of his shirt. He let out another groan, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue between his parted lips. His hand trailed further down, palming the flesh of your ass.
You quickly moved your tongue against his, the kiss only growing rougher as he hastily dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass. You could feel him stiffening against you through the fabric of his jeans, and you moaned into his mouth. He used the hand that was gripping your belt loop and lifted the short fabric of your skirt, desperate to press his pelvis closer against you.
Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you once, and your breath got caught in your throat entirely when he rolled them against you again. “ Satoru, ” you gasped, countering him by sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. You followed this up by sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, and his moans vibrated through you.
He rolled his hips against you again, pulling his lips away from yours to start a trail of kisses down your neck. They mirrored the roughness of the kisses against your lips, and you couldn’t help the moans that were coming out of you. All you could do was hope they weren’t loud enough to be heard outside, or the others outside were making enough of their own noise to drown you out.
You lifted a leg, aching for more friction. You whimpered when he rolled his hips again, your fingers digging in deeper to keep the grip you had on him. “Shit,” he murmured, licking a lewd stripe from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear. He repeated the same action on the other side of your neck, opting to suck your earlobe into his mouth while continuing to roll his hips against you.
You panted, matching his movements to roll your hips in time with his. He gripped your ass even harder, his breaths becoming out harsh against the skin of your neck.
“One minute left!” Haibara’s voice called from the other side of the door.
Gojo wanted to make his last minute with you count, he wanted you to remember him. He wanted you to wonder why Shoko never introduced the two of you before.
With one hand still gripping your ass, he used the other to grip your throat, ensuring you were eye level with him as he continued to rut his hips against yours. “If I had more than seven minutes with you, I’d have you coming ten times over,” he whispered against your lips. “I haven’t even shown you what my tongue is really capable of,” he chuckled with a final roll of his hips.
Your eyes widened at his words as he crushed his lips against yours a final time.
“Time’s up!” Haibara called.
Your chest was heaving as you and Gojo untangled your bodies from each other. Both of your faces were flushed and sporting a sheen of sweat. He adjusted your skirt, pulling the material back down and aligning it so it was centered.
You glanced at what was now a raging hard on before he adjusted himself. Luckily, he was wearing black, so it wasn’t terribly difficult to conceal.
“You two better come out, or I’m coming in there whether you're decent or not!” Haibara called again.
“Well, thanks.” You nodded at Gojo. “I’ll keep what you said in mind, maybe I’d like to see it one day,” you winked, reaching for the closet door.
You pushed the door open, finding it hard to conceal the smile on your face. Your world was practically rocked inside the closet, but nothing changed on the outside. Everyone was still drinking and making conversation; it appeared another round of chugging went down in your absence, evident by more empty cans on the floor.
You grabbed another drink as you returned to your seat next to Utahime before realizing you hadn’t even finished drinking the one you had before going in the closet. You chugged that one down before opening the new one.
“You okay?” Utahime asked. A lazily smile was on her face, but she still managed to point daggers in Gojo’s direction. “I’ll beat his ass, I swear on everything I will if he hurt you.”
“I'm perfect, I promise,” you giggled, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t help but throw a wink in Gojo’s direction, which he returned.
Shoko’s turn was next, and her spin landed on Utahime. They both returned from the closet giggling with flushed expressions.
Everyone else went, and you had the final spin since you were the last to finish chugging your drink. By now you were comfortably buzzed, and gave the can a spin with a laugh as you waited to see who it would land on.
It landed on Geto.
“I’ll beat his ass too!” Utahime slurred, leaning into Shoko. She couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Shoko was howling from her statement.
“I promise, that won’t be necessary,” Geto chuckled as he rose to his feet. Similar to Gojo, he offered you his hand. “Care to join me?”
He had an ethereal kind of beauty about him. His hair flowed his inky locks that reached the middle of his back with small bangs in the front and another small portion in a top knot. Small gauges plugged his ears, and he must have been the same height as Gojo. He wore dark denim jeans, and a faded university shirt stretched across his chest.
Your eyes couldn’t help but trail to the veins on his arms and how prominent his Adam's apple was.
Taking his hand, you made the familiar journey to the closet.
Haibara was making some joke with Nanami and Mei Mei, the task of being the timekeeper at this point seemingly forgotten. You shrugged, and slipped inside the closet as Geto held the door open.
The alcohol coursing through your veins made your memory a little fuzzy to remember who went in before you, but you were grateful that they left the light on.
Leaning back against the boxes on the back wall, a lazy smile danced across your face. “Suguru.”
He cocked his head to the side as a light laugh escaped from his lips. He said your name, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “What is it?”
You beckoned him closer with a finger. It took all of two steps before he was directly in front of you. “Can I touch your hair?”
“Yes,” he answered. He wasn’t expecting that request, but happily obliged.
He gently grabbed your wrist and ducked his head to give you better access to his tresses. You threaded your fingers through his hair; it was as soft and luxurious as silk.
Your fingers grazed his scalp from the base of his neck, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. Geto normally wasn’t a fan of people he didn’t know touching his hair, hell, he couldn’t say he really let anyone touch it, but he couldn’t reject you. Not with the polite way you asked.
His assessment of your features was no different than Gojo’s; your looks were nothing less than outstanding, but there was more beneath that. Your looks exuded softness, but your eyes brimmed with desire. Maybe it was his own buzz that made him want to please you in any way possible. Your touch was delicate, and he wanted to know if there was anything else soft about you.
Geto placed a hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the exposed skin. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“I am,” you giggled, “but…”
“Hmm?” he questioned. “But what?”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you gushed. “But I really want to kiss you.”
You didn’t need the liquid courage to admit that, but it definitely helped to speed up the process.
Geto lifted his head, and used his other hand to cup your chin, his thumb caressing the skin there. “I’m happy you said that, because I want to kiss you, too.” With that, he brought his lips to yours.
Geto’s lips felt like a warm caress against yours, his lavender scent wafting into your nostrils.
You closed your eyes as his lips moved leisurely against yours, movements unhurried as your lips massaged each other’s. The hand on your hip slowly trailed the side of your body as his hand caressed the skin of your stomach, igniting a flame in your core. He placed his other hand on the arch of your back, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at his embrace.
His large hands were soft and moved delicately across the expanse of your skin. His fingers dipped into every curve, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his hands seemed calculated, and oozed a level of sensuality you couldn’t even begin to explain.
His lips parted as his tongue ran along your bottom lip. You more than willingly parted your lips, and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The movement was seamless as the hand on your back pulled you closer toward him, keeping every part of your bodies connected. One of your hands was still threading through his silky hair while the other snaked beneath the material of his shirt to feel his defined torso. Much like his hands, the skin there was soft and smooth, but there was no denying the definition of muscle.
He hummed into your mouth at your touch as the hand on your stomach began to sluice down the expanse of your thigh. His thumb expertly moved in circles while his remaining fingers gripped the flesh delicately. He continued the motion, his hand traveling from the top of your thigh to just above your knee. The hand was equal parts warm and encompassing.
You moaned softly against his mouth as the palm of his hand moved to the underside of your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting it, wrapping it around his waist. His hand remained under your thigh to keep it propped up, the flame ignited in your core before now a fire burning out of control. He pulled his lips away from yours for a brief movement at the small gasp you let out at the motion, a gentle laugh escaping from him. “Everything alright?”
“Perfect,” you breathed out, moving your hands to wrap both of them around his neck. You pressed your lips back to his, this time tracing the shape of his lips with your tongue. You gently nipped at his bottom lip and started to explore his mouth once he parted his lips.
You could feel him harden with every stroke of your tongue, and the motion of your bucking hips seemed involuntary. The gentle grip he had on your thigh became a hard squeeze with every movement of your hips; the hand on your back trailing further down to cup your ass. He squeezed the flesh in tune with the movement of your hips, but was still careful not to dig his fingers too deep into your skin.
You felt yourself panting into his mouth as the kiss continued, growing sloppier by the moment. The controlled movements of your lips before were nearly nonexistent as you grasped for any part of him that you could get.
“Keep your leg up,” he murmured against your lips. He removed the grip from your thigh and moved from your body just so he had enough space to snake his hand between your thighs. You hitched your leg higher up on his waist and he buried his head in your neck.
Geto couldn’t help but laugh to himself seeing the faint marks Gojo left on your neck. His friend never held back when it came to self indulgence. He couldn’t blame him, though. He would have done the same if he were in the same position.
Just as lady luck had been on Gojo’s side on his spin landing on you, it was just Geto’s luck that no one else had a turn with you. If Gojo was going to be your first impression, he was more than happy to be the last.
“Mhm, keep your leg right there, angel.” His velvety voice wrapped around you like a bow on a present, and you knew you would fold to whatever he requested.
He brushed the pad of his thumb over your clothed clit, eliciting an instant moan from you. His lips latched onto your neck as he brushed over your clit again, loving the sounds of your moans. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he chuckled softly against your neck, letting his lips mark another spot into your skin.
“ Suguru, ” you whined.
“Hmm?” His thumb began to massage your clit in slow circles, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. He barely touched you and your body already felt greedy for more. Your arms latched even tighter around his neck as if you were a koala hugging a tree branch. “You like the way that feels? Something tells me that you do.”
You moaned again as he continued to massage your clit, his lips still working against your neck. By now you weren’t worried about anyone hearing, you were more than certain the game had been long forgotten by everyone else in attendance. Your hands tugged gently at his hair, producing a small groan from Geto.
“Let’s see just how much you like this.” His voice was muffled against your neck. You didn’t have a chance to respond before two slender fingers were pushing the fabric of your underwear aside, running over your slick center. “Quite a bit, it seems,” he mumbled, letting his fingers run over your heat again.
Geto could feel himself growing harder just knowing how wet you were; just imagining how you would feel enveloping his fingers, inviting him in. Perhaps he wasn’t very different from Gojo at all when it came to self indulgence. He kept his thumb firmly pressed against your clit as he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you.
You welcomed his fingers, clenching around them as you struggled to keep your leg in its lifted position. He let out a groan of satisfaction as he slowly plumped the digits in and out of you, taking his time to reach that spongy spot with each plunge of his fingers.
“Hey! Who’s keeping time!” Gojo’s voice sounded loudly beyond the closet door. “I’m sure it’s been more than seven minutes!”
“Should we– Ah! ” Geto’s fingers stayed plunged inside of you as he kept his fingers curled against your g-spot.
Erection pressed firmly against your grounded thigh, he paid Gojo’s voice no mind as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Just focus on me, angel. They’re fine out there.”
His voice was dizzying as his fingers worked on the continuous ministrations of stimulating your clit and g-spot. Your breaths were coming out in harsh pants and your thigh was aching, but you were determined to keep it upright as you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm.
“You’re so close,” he murmured. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ye–”
“Don’t tell me you’re all just going to ignore me.” Geto’s fingers moved quicker. “Fine. I’m telling them to get the fuck out.”
One final motion, and you drenched his fingers, the excess dripping down your thighs and soaking the crotch of your underwear.
You barely had a moment to catch your breath before the closet door swung open. You hastily put your leg down while Geto made no movement.
“Satoru.” His voice was light, almost playful. His fingers were still inside of you, hand now sandwiched between your thighs. He pulled them out slowly before removing his head from the crook of your neck, turning it to face Gojo. “Is something wrong?”
“Hm, I don’t know,” Gojo groaned. “Maybe the fact that the game is called seven minutes in heaven and you guys have been in here for hours. ”
“I see.” He whipped his head back around and removed his other hand from the grip it had on your ass as he took a step back. “Didn’t mean to break any rules, of course. We’ll be out in a moment.”
Gojo closed the closet door with a huff, and you released a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.
“Was he… upset?” He wouldn’t have a reason to be, would he? This was just a silly little party game after all.
A small smile crept onto Geto’s face. “Not at all.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, angel. He’s perfectly fine.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, focus now shifted to your still trembling legs. You straightened your skirt and gave Geto a sheepish smile. “That was… fun. Thanks.”
“Thank you. ” A small smirk danced over his lips as he adjusted him, striding over to the door. He opened it, gesturing for you to step out first.
Gojo was already sitting back down, poking fun at a now very drunk Shoko. Utahime was trying to tell, or rather scold him about something, but she was just as trashed, none of her words the least bit intelligible.
You couldn’t help but laugh as you rejoined them, going for another drink yourself. You wondered how long you were actually in the closet with Geto, but paid it no mind as you enjoyed the rest of the night.
A few hours later, Haibara, Nanami, Mei Mei, Gojo, and Geto started making their way out. Shoko and Utahime were already fast asleep on the couch, and you decided to sleep over. They would probably need to be nursed back to health in the morning.
“Does anybody need help calling an Uber or anything?” you asked.
“Already called one for Yu and I,” Nanami answered. “Should be here in a few minutes.”
“My brother is going to pick me up,” Mei Mei responded.
You nodded at both of them and looked toward Geto and Gojo.
“We don’t live too far, we’re good to walk home,” Geto answered, seemingly for himself and Gojo.
Nanami, Haibara, and Mei Mei all got into their respective rides, leaving the tall pair of friends left.
You flashed them both a smile as you walked them to the door. “It was great meeting both of you.” A part of you felt like you should have been swimming in some kind of guilt, but you were really swelling with pride. They were both too attractive for their own good, and surely they knew that. “I hope we get to see each other again, sometime.”
“I’m sure we will,” Gojo assured, a sly smile playing on his lips.
“Good night, angel.”
They made their way out the door, and you locked it behind them.
Gojo shoved his hands in his pockets as he and Geto began the short walk back to their apartment. Only lamp posts and the occasional passing car provided any illumination.
“I’m mad.”
“Oh?” Geto questioned.
“Shoko hid a hot friend from us.”
Light laughter escaped from Geto’s lips. “That, she did.”
Gojo stopped his pace, turning to look at Geto. “So what did you guys do?”
Geto laced his fingers, lazily placing them behind his head as he stopped as well to look at Gojo. “I could ask the same, but I already know you went all Dracula on her neck.”
Gojo scoffed. “Well unlike someone, I was adhering to the time limit.”
“Not my fault no one wanted to keep time anymore when it was her turn,” Geto shrugged in response. “I was just making her feel good, that’s all.”
A white eyebrow cocked. “Did you make her come?”
Another shrug from Geto. “I had the time to, why wouldn’t I?”
“ What? ” A pout formed on Gojo’s lips. “That’s not even fair!”
Geto unlaced his fingers from his head and waved the two fingers that were inside of you in front of Gojo’s face. “If you get close enough, maybe you can still smell her.” He wiggled his fingers again. “You can even lick them, if you want.”
Blue eyes turned into icy slits. “What am I, a dog? ” He took a step closer and smelled the offered fingers anyway. “And angel? What the fuck was that all about?”
“Cute lil’ nickname.” He shrugged again. “Just seemed fitting at the moment.”
Gojo groaned and threw his head back. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“We’re literally never thinking the same thing,” Geto deadpanned.
Blue eyes threatened to get stuck in the back of Gojo’s skull from how hard he rolled them. “Whatever. I say we go for it.”
“Hmm.” Geto nodded thoughtfully. “I guess this is a rare occurrence where we are sharing a brain cell.” He tapped his chin. “Think she’d want to?”
Gojo threw his arms around his best friend’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. It’s us. Not a chance the answer is no.”
ill upload ch 2 and 3 later lmao
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Hey girl! Since you write 2 of my fave genres and saw your're accepting requests I hope that maybe this message reaches you and you will give my idea a try. It is of course some angst to fluff with Gojo x reader. Both in their 20s (let's say JJK0), reader is pretty new to the Jujutsu world but just as strong as Satoru, super funny and sarcastic but very chill (so a bit his opposite if you will). Shoko, being close with the reader notices that she has feelings for Gojo and she doesn't confess because of fear of rejection. Things get worse when reader *thinks* she sees him flirting and tries distancing herself and wallow a bit. So maybe at the end either something happens and Gojo confesses (in his own emotionally constipated way) ooorrr Shoko *helps* out a bit by having a talk with good 'ol Gojo (or both *wink*). Either way, you take this idea, turn it, twist it, do whatever your magical talented self wants with it and you have all the love from me (you have it nevertheless ^^). Thank youu
Misunderstandings Can Often Be Helpful {Gojo Satoru}
A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like it
Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Trigger Warnings: none
Everyone who knew Gojo in a relatively more personal level could see it. Geto leaving hurt him. His wounds were still fresh and bleeding but he was now the strongest. Alone. The word didn't even feel right, refering to himself as the strongest when he had been so used to saying "we" since Geto was supposed to be always there with him. His best friend. His one and only.
But life went on and soon a new student was announced. With the only exception that you were no regular student. After the arrival of Yuta in Jujutsu Tech, Gojo had naturally expected you to be more around the first years age. The shock on his face when he learnt that you were just a few years younger than him would forever remain imprinted on your meomory... and on paper since Shoko managed to take a picture of him.
When the principal told him about you, Gojo expected to see someone with no abilities whatsoever. He knew of course that you were almost on the same level as him power-wise and from Yaga's sayings, you had no idea how to control your powers. It went without saying that he had been assigned to be your teacher since he not only was the only one who overpowered you but because he was the only one knowledgeable enough to help you understand and control your powers. That was what he told Shoko anyways.
What he didn't expect however was to get his ass kicked both physically and mentally. And all that on your first day there as well.
"Whoah, were are you going?" He quickly stood up, stretching his back. The last kick you had given him behind the knees had been enough to make him realise that turning off his limitless was a wrong decision.
"To get some water, I assumed we were taking a break? You seemed really friendly with the floor." You opened the door, ready to walk out.
"Do you usually assume a lot of things?"
"It appears as such. I assumed you were stronger in physical combat."
Now that was a hit below the belt. Apart from Geto and occasionally Shoko, no one ever had the balls to call him... weak. Gojo Satoru wasn't weak. He was the strongest!
"Damn that would have looked great on camera..." Shoko shrugged, blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.
"Are you kidding me? I don't even have time to respond! It's one sarcastic comment after another!" Gojo chuckled before shouting a 'time out' for the first years.
After that day, Shoko took a great liking in you, mostly because Gojo seemed to be getting gradually better emotionally. In fact, she went to properly meet you the very next day. And the rest was history.
You and Gojo were the only reasons why she would stay up late in her office, waiting for your training session to end, just so she can catch up with all the latest gossip brought by none other than the new strongest duo.
But Shoko was no fool. Be it after training sessions, after missions or even after some casual nights out with the two of you, she had quickly picked up on the way you looked at Gojo. It wasn't really admiration. Hanging out with his annoying ass had brought your ego to the same level as his. It wasn't the expected teacher-student dynamic either. That had long been gone after you managed to give him a black eye (accidentally obviously) during your early days of training.
It was something else, something she could say was a developing crush on the world's most annoying human being. But it was fun seeing it. Gojo knew your favourite drink by heart and would order it for you before you could even open your mouth. You would slightly blush when he would pass it on to you after the waiter mistaking it for his order. On extremely rare occasions she would catch your apologetic expression as you brought him to her office after landing him a hit that wasn't supposed to hurt him at all. Not to mention how she would notice you looking at him during your breaks. Yes, that was what sealed the deal for her.
The only problem was... Shoko knew Gojo and most importantly, she knew the reputation that surrounded him and if not the reputation then... the crowds of women. Not to be mistaken though, Geto was surprisingly far more popular with women back when Gojo and him were teens.
"You're here alone? That's a new one." She patted Maki's back, signaling for her to leave as Gojo entered the office.
"Yeah well... y/n left right after practice ended." He groaned and laid down on the cold metal bed Shoko had. "She did strain her leg though so I don't know why she refused when I offered to take her to you."
Shoko's alarms went off. You, refusing help from none other than Gojo Satoru? The guy you had a crush on for the last year now? Sure, there had been a few times here and there when you refused to help each other out of pure banter but at the end of the day, both of you walked into her office together.
"What's with that smile?" Gojo raised the left side of his blindfold just to side eye Shoko. "It's creepy."
But Shoko's life had just gotten a new meaning because the very next day she was ringing the doorbell of your apartment. She knew it was Saturday, you didn't have any missions and no practice time with Gojo so this was the perfect time to learn what had happened the night before.
Shoko wasn't someone who liked gossip. Scratch that: she wasn't someone who liked to work in order to learn the latest gossip. To his credit though, Geto always brought her something juicy. With him now gone, she was counting on you and Gojo.
"It's... 8 in the morning... what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" You let out a yawn and stepped aside to let her walk in your apartment.
"I need to know everything." She removed her shoes and her coat. "And when I mean everything, I mean even the tiniest bit of sweat that ran down Gojo's exposed forehead that made you not come to my office yesterday." With an air filled with nonchalance, Shoko took the ashtray you had bought specifically for her and walked towards your balcony. She knew you didn't like the smell of smoke in your house. "Come on! I need words coming out of your mouth sweetheart!"
You would have made up an excuse. Shoko knew you would, she could practically see it forming in your head but she knew you weren't going to say it. Because she was your best friend and you were hers and in the past year, the two of you had shared more secrets with each other than she had with anyone else. Yaga's hemorrhoids? You had discussed that in your first week there. Yuta's crush on Maki? Been there, said that.
"Um... I just... does he have a girlfriend?"
"No? Why?"
"Because... like..." And then you finally caved in, taking the closest chair and placing it next to the one Shoko was sitting on. "Two days ago, after we had returned from our mission, I filled in the paperwork and as I was heading to Yaga's office I saw him talking to a woman... and she seemed both serious and flirty?"
"How did she look like?" Shoko asked a little hesitantly, hoping you weren't talking about the one she thought you were talking about.
"Tall, blonde hair, she was holding a helmet."
Her assumptions had been correct. "Yuki? Tsukumo Yuki?" She turned to look at you with wide eyes and a cigarette that was hanging so loosely from her fingers that could fall in any moment. When you didn't respond, Shoko bursted out laughing. "Are you shitting me? Yuki is a special grade sorcerer. She would never... god... anyways, I have to go to the office."
That was a lie. Shoko wasn't going to the office.
Conveniently enough, yours and Gojo's apartment were as close as a fifteen minute walk so when she finally reached the fifth floor of his flat, she wasn't breathless.
"If you don't confess to that poor girl in the next hour, I will personally call her and tell her that her contact name in your phone is love. With a red heart."
"It's almost nine in the morning what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" He let out a yawn but unlike you, he didn't let her in so Shoko just pushed her way in. "No matter the case, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh you do. You have bought her kikufuku over a thousand times. Kikufuku that were meant for you!"
"I am a person who likes to share." Gojo leaned against the kitchen bar.
"He is lying." The old lady that he had hired to clean his house on Saturdays spoke, walking out of his bathroom. "He keeps following me while I clean and talks about her. I even sent her a gift on her birthday since aparently I know her better than her own mother."
Shoko's eyes widened at the sound of this new information and it wasn't long before she started throwing the apples on the kitchen counter at Gojo.
It took Gojo three minutes to put on some nice clothes and he could swear that if Shoko was tall enough to reach him, she would be dragging him to your house by his ear.
"What's-"
"Have fun!" Shoko pushed Gojo inside your apartment and before both of you could protest, she closed the door and glued her ear on it so she could listen to every single word, every single comma said between the two of you.
"How's your leg?" He asked. If anyone were to grade him right now, maybe he could get a D- for the effort.
"I'll live."
"Um... so..."
Was he nervous? Gojo Satoru, nervous. Let me rephrase that: Gojo Satoru was nervous while talking to a woman?
"You have made huge progress this past year. And I appreciate that we..."
The truth was that not even Satoru himself knew why he was so nervous. He had performed this speech for months in front of his mirror even though he knew how unlike himself this was. Gojo Satoru never rehearsed love confessions because he never needed any. The girls confessed to him, not the other way around.
"We?"
"Please calm down a little. I am trying to remember the highlighted part at the corner of the page."
No, he hadn't written anything down. Hell, he had never even completed one rehearsal of this supposed love confession. But humour came naturally to him; it was the only way Gojo knew when it came to dealing with stressful situations. Especially after Geto left.
"I am glad we are the strongest um... together."
"Sure." You brushed it off, unaware of the amount of effort this poor guy was putting into confessing.
"Great, I'll pick you up at 7."
"For what?"
"Our date?"
"What date?"
"The one I am taking you on because I just confessed and this is what couples do?" A small pause followed and Gojo could practically feel the sweat staining his forehead even though he wasn't really sweating. "No?"
"8 works better."
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IM BACK AND I HAVE PERCIVER HEAD CANONS TO SHARE!!!
They meet in first year on the Hogwarts express. Percy's holding a giant book on third year divination. While this makes him a less attractive friend in the eyes of others', it's what brings Oliver Wood to the same train car as him. They introduce themselves and shake hands.
In second year, Oliver makes the Quidditch team as their keeper. Percy still spends the majority of his time indoors, but he goes to Ollie's practices and games every once in a while. After one specific game, Oliver comes back to the dorm with his breath cut short and with tears in his eyes. He stops breathing and the world goes spinning between each of his eyes; a panic attack, madame Pomphrey later describes it. The crowd triggered it.
Percy comforts him, sits on the same floor as him, rubbing the boy's back, repeating reassurance: "you're safe here,"
"You were good out there, really."
"I'll sit with you for as long as it takes."
Oliver comes to with his head on Percy's shoulder.
In third year, Percy goes to every practice and every game. He rubs Oliver's back when he returns to the dorm. When he loses for the first time, Percy has to chase him to stop him from running away, never to be found again.
"Hey, listen," Percy says, out of breath from the running. He doesn't understand how Oliver's barely breaking a sweat. "Tell me, okay? What went wrong out there?"
He gives Oliver a minute to pause and think.
Oliver gathers his thoughts and his breath. The sweat dripping down his neck fuels him, gives him energy. It clouds his head. He needs to calm down.
"I slipped on my broom." He says finally. "I wasn't planted on it properly."
"Good. What are you gonna do to fix it?" Percy replies, breathing better.
"I'll improve my grip."
"Good."
The two of them stand there, just breathing.
"Thanks."
In fourth year, they have the Yule Ball. Both of them are fifteen. Their year mates are out and about minging, asking each other out. The two of them stay where they are. They don't speak of the ball.
They go to the dance together, as friends of course. Percy keeps adjusting the collar to his hand-me-down dress robes. Oliver assures him that his attire is charming.
He sighs.
"If you had to wear these, I guarantee you'd understand me." Percy says. Over the summer his voice has changed. It's deeper and richer. Oliver loves it. Wishes he could taste it. Wishes these thoughts would go away. He grins and laughs Percy off.
When it's time to dance, they run away to a balcony that Percy didn't even know existed. They laugh and chat, making jokes at the dancers' expenses. Percy's had a bit to drink, (had he known the punch was alcoholic, he wouldn't have gone near it) and his face is flushed deep red.
"AND- and then when the-" he howls laughter. Oliver has to stop him from falling over himself.
Oliver thinks... He can't think at all. Suddenly. The two of them are so close together. He's got his arm around Percy's back and Percy's leaning against him, hands on Oliver's chest, still laughing. When he stops and catches his breath, though, the two of them seem to freeze. Oliver's heart skips a beat when he can physically feel Percy tensing up.
He kisses him.
Very awkwardly.
He made little action with his lips, just gently brushing his against the other boy's. The boy in question grins. Now it's Oliver's turn to flush deep red.
"ha-HA! No, wait, no, Oliver, wait."
Percy pulls Oliver back towards him by the arm. They're tangled with each other again, Oliver giving in to the urge to smile, just a bit, even after being embarrassed.
They kiss. Properly this time. It's the best thing Oliver's felt in his life. When they pull away, he whispers,
"Are you my boyfriend now?"
Percy smiles.
"Yes."
In fifth year, nightmares attack. O.W.Ls. Percy never sleeps anymore.
Oliver has to drag him away from his work table and force him onto his bed. When that bed later becomes repurposed for more studies, Oliver forces him onto his own bed. They sleep together and their dorm mates start getting suspicious.
Oliver sleeps in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percy sleeps in a sweater and boxers. They spoon and Oliver rests his arm in front of Percy's only exit to stop him from crawling out of bed to study. Little does he know, Percy would never dare leave.
During the waking hours, Oliver drags Percy to other important places, such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The outdoors. Interaction with other human beings. It's a tough life out here for him.
When the exams finally start approaching, they do not stop making out. It's the only thing that gets Percy's mind off things. Only because there's nothing more distracting than Oliver's mouth.
To his own surprise and nobody else's, Percy passes his O.W.Ls with flying colours. Oliver passes alright despite not studying.
In sixth year it's the same for their N.E.W.Ts.
Something changes in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the student body, especially the girls. Oliver knows he's gotten taller. And his freckles have cleared enough for his gorgeous face to be visible. His voice is still as beautiful as it was in fourth year. He's started rolling up the sleeves of his sweaters, and the halls seem to swoon rapidly when they spot his forearms. Oliver always knew that Percy could have this power over people; he'd been subject to it himself. But it annoys him. And what's even worse is that Percy doesnt seem to notice when he's being flirted with.
He gets into the habit of writing on Oliver with pens, a strange Muggle device that's actually pretty nifty. Some mornings, Oliver wakes up with markings he doesn't even remember. Percy writes on his chest a lot. Draws on his collarbone. The most repeated word is Percy's name.
Oliver looks in the mirror one day, at his shirtless body.
PROPERTY OF PERCIVAL IGNATIUS WEASLEY
It says this all over his torso.
He grins. No one's stealing Percy from him anytime soon.
They pass their N.E.W.Ts.
The Summer Before Seventh Year
France is a gorgeous place, Oliver realises. Filled with gorgeous girls, too. He's lounging at the beach when one of them asks him out. He's put on the spot and exposed, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and sunglasses. He fumbles over his words.
"Err, I mean, no..." The girl frowns. She has gorgeous eyes. "I mean, yes, sure. Is Friday at 7 PM okay with you?"
It doesn't even occur to him that she's a Muggle.
Immediately after he's uttered these words, he regrets it. But he can't stand her up. And she's already walking away. Merlin, Percy's gonna kill him.
It's just one date and Oliver doesn't even enjoy. They don't touch each other at all; they don't even hold hands. But Oliver knows what he's done, and he knows what he has to do.
He writes a letter.
I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't live with myself if I kept it secret.
He sends it away with his black owl.
At the Burrow, Percy receives two letters back to back on his birthday. The first is from Hogwarts, confirmation that he's this year's Head Boy. He jumps around the kitchen, all dignity forgotten, and hugs his mother with an enormous grin on his face.
The second is from Oliver.
How quickly Percy's face turns sour. Mrs Weasley asks if he's okay.
Tears sting his eyes. Outside, he tells his mother everything.
One day before the start of the school year, the Weasley's are staying at the Leakey Cauldron overnight. Percy hears pebbles being thrown at his window and goes to see who it is.
Oliver Wood. Merlin.
Percy goes downstairs, striding towards his partner. Punches him in the face and immediately feels bad, but doesn't let that stop him. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and a yell and a sob,
"How could you?"
"I'm so sorry, Percy."
"Why did you do it?"
"We didn't do anything. Didn't touch her. I remember what you wrote on me."
Percy breathes in deep.
"I wasn't talking about just your body, Oliver. I was talking about you. All of you." He exhales, trying to hold himself together.
"I wouldn't think twice about rejecting some Muggle girl for you. You think I didn't notice when the whole female population at school suddenly wanted to date me? Just because of my body? I resisted them for you, Oliver. Because I love you. Why couldn't you do that for me?"
"I don't know. I'm so, so sorry."
They decide to take a break from their relationship. When they start attending school again, their dorm mates wonder why they've stopped sleeping together.
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