CHEF'S KISS
Gojo Satoru
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking, death of nameless character
Thinking about Gojo bumping into you on his way to buy sweets and getting mortified when sensing how you pass through his infinity like it isn’t even there – touching him hands-first like it’s only normal.
And the way you look at him, all spluttering apologies – without a single clue – how you quickly walk away like it was no bigger deal than mildly embarrassing.
And he’s left there, stunned and stuck to the ground he stood on, suddenly feeling stripped naked.
He had to follow you – naturally. Can’t let the biggest threat to his life just walk around unsupervised. Obviously, he has to keep tabs on you now – every single day – your constant whereabouts, where you work and study and loiter and live, and who you communicate with.
It’s all platonic at first – nothing romantic. He’s stalking you, but it’s for safety reasons. There’s no telling who’d potentially find out about your dormant technique and use it against him.
But keeping his six eyes on you every hour he could spare all day and night of every week, eventually, he can't stop himself from starting to see you as something more than just a threat…
He's not blind to it either – he feels the change in the pit of his stomach – in his heart – in his balls even.
He blushes when you take your clothes off to go shower – needs to swallow thickly, watching you walk about your apartment dressed only in a dainty set of panties and a comfy T – smiles when seeing you dance around to music he can’t hear from where he’s perched on the rooftop on the neighboring building – tugs on his cock to the sight of you touching yourself, trying to time his climax to yours.
He’s not watching you for the right reasons anymore… he knows that, but he just can’t seem to stop.
You’re so normal, he’s obsessed with you. So addictive in your mundane routines. Messy notes, chewing your pen when scrambling for an exam – making another easy-fix dinner – picking up the same hoodie from the floor before throwing yourself out the door to go work your minimum wage job – coming home late only to collapse on the sofa with a random episode of some dumb sitcom playing on the TV.
He wants to be your boyfriend – imagines himself going to your school and sitting next to you in the lecture hall, studying together at cafes, watching movies in bed, wearing his varsity jacket, squeezing your tits as you ride him in someone else's bedroom at a party that got way out of hand, cumming on your face and apologizing for it when you give him head on his birthday.
He’s teetering on thirty and has killed more than he can count – both curses and humans – and here he is – fantasizing about having a college girlfriend who doesn’t even know who his name…
It would be healthy for him to stop – he knows that, knows it’s becoming dangerous – but he thinks it might be too late now – all he does is try and get closer…
He thinks about enrolling in one of your classes, thinks about moving into your apartment complex, and then he thinks about taking you.
He’s watching you have a nightcap with a boy he thinks he recognizes from your class – you’re both drunk and it’s obvious where things are going...
There’s a devil and an angel sitting on his shoulders, whispering in his ear – but he can't tell which one’s which anymore. One is telling him to leave – to allow you some privacy... but the other tells him to barge in – to crash through the window and rip the guy’s head off by the scruff of his chin.
There’d be blood on his hands, but at least he’d finally be able to touch you…
He glues his hands together – tries thinking clearly – but closing his eyes only results in seeing you gasping and moaning while getting fucked by someone else and it makes him feel like he’s about to lose his shit.
He performs the rituals with his fingers without even noticing – making the hand gestures – his breathing thick before he mouths the words beneath his breath. “Infinite Void…”
You don’t know what’s happening – you’re drunk and unsure if you should be dialing nine-one-one or an ambulance. The guy you’re with is having a seizure, frothing at the mouth and spasming on the floor until suddenly falling limp.
Your breathing is sharp. You think he’s dead. You throw up. The shock makes the tears stop for a brief moment before you start hyperventilating, crying harder.
You’re shaking, and it’s hard holding the phone still – let alone dial any number. Before you can, there’s a knock on the door.
You’re not thinking clearly, naked and wrapped in just a thin sheet as you rush to greet the sound. You don’t recognize the man, but for some reason, you’re spilling your guts to him anyway – rambling about the dead guy in your bedroom.
You’re panicked, and it only takes a curt minute before you’re throwing yourself at him – hugging him tightly – your hands ice-cold on his neck, skin-to-skin without any respect to his infinity – latching onto him for dear life as if you know exactly who he is and how much he loves you.
But of course, you don’t...
You’re just in shock – having just witnessed a boy die. Completely clueless as to how the man you were clinging to so desperately was going to take you back into that bedroom where that boy was lying and do to you what he was going to do before he killed him.
Thinking about Bully! Gojo who is absolutely obsessed with his chubby! shy! victim girlfriend!
Dragging you along with him at your campus, taking any opportunity to show you off to his friends and pretty much anyone within talking distance...
Bully! Gojo who teases you, but in a loving way??? Squishing your chubby face together and cooing at your plump lips squished together, calling you his pretty baby and always gushing at how soft and plushy your entire body was....♡
Bully! Gojo who doesn't let anyone call you names or even dare insult your weight, height, appearance, anything about you. No no no, only he's allowed to be mean to you, no one else! >:(
Bully! Gojo who overhears someone dragging you over your body, calling you a pig, cow, anything they could remotely compare you to. That person suddenly gets found beaten into a bloody pulp, and what a coincidence! They're transferring schools soon! How odd! Yeah, he doesn't play around concerning his pretty baby....
Bully! Gojo who CANNOT keep his hands to himself. This man is a complete pervert, always pulling you into an empty classroom and pulling down your pretty bra he bought you to suck and lick and nibble on your pebbled nipples, whimpering and grinding himself against you, begging "please let me fuck you real quick baby, need you so bad...." (This tall 6"4 mf bending himself over your much smaller frame good lord look at this loser)
Bully! Gojo who drags you along to all of his frat parties he's involved in, having you wear a pretty little outfit that he let you choose and having his lanky ass arm draped over your back or plump rear the entire party, not once letting his gaze drift anywhere but at his pretty pretty girl♡
Bully! Gojo who introduces you to his best friend, Geto Suguru.
Bully! Gojo, who gets absolutely hammered that night and has the brilliant idea that hey, that's his best friend, why not let him have a little taste of his pretty baby? After all, he saw how Suguru was looking at you, like a hungry lion being offered a soft little lamb....
So now, you're being spit roasted by two giant men who are absolutely smitten by sweet little you, being filled with their seed from both ends...yeah, this can only end well...
(I need to be spayed I am so horny for these men....somebody detain me) should I make another part about him sharing his pretty baby?? 👀 lmk!!
This is a MASTERPIECE , how come it only has 10 notes?!
Hello, First timer here. May I please request for Yandere Nanami Kento wherein their darling finds their stalker wall ( a wall filled with their pictures) after being invited into his apartment and proceeds to runaway from him
Great idea. this will be my dessert. And speaking of dessert........
The sun began to disappear on the horizon. It had a calming dark orange color rather than the blinding white light it usually had. Parts of the sky that took off with the sun brought a yellow hue that eventually faded into a dark blue above. The clouds were purple and pink, which gave the impression that this was probably the most beautiful sunset in Japan this year. Yet, Kento wouldn't dare take his eyes off of your face. You were ten times more beautiful than any sunset he's ever laid his eyes on. Everything from your reflective eyes to your beautiful lips was something he could never get off of his mind. He needed you to be his forever.
He managed to persuade you into having a few dates with him. You and him have been work partners for a few years at the same company, and he's "known" you for even longer than that. He knew you didn't really like your job and only stayed for the amazing pay. He also knew that he was your type. Organized. Neat. Kept to himself and never really bothered to talk with others. He intrigued you and you wanted to know more about him. It was less of convincing, and more of you asking him out, if anything. More of a reason for you to stick around. He wasn't complaining.
And so you two were almost halfway through the first date. "Surprise me," you said. So he gave you some sort of dress code that would be nice for the place he'd take you to and he brought you to a (pretty expensive, in your opinion) new restaurant that opened in Tokyo. You had a great time ordering to your hearts content, like he told you to do. And you're surprised that he could even afford a place like this. It made you wonder what kind of pay gap you two had.
You spoke the most out of the both of you, even with shoving all of the food you ate into your mouth. He told you to be careful, of course, but couldn't help but let out little chuckles from your adorable behavior. You told him about your position and what you to at work(which he already knew about), told him about the stray cats you feed every night because they kept begging you so sweetly for more deli cuts from your fridge(he knew that too), and you told him about how much you enjoy his company.
"I don't know." You said, sipping your red wine while maintaining eye contact with him. "It's something really nice about you." You give him a simple smile, your beautiful nails tapping against the polish wooden dinner table. He felt his cock twitch in his pants and tried to fight back the heat that began to reach his face and ears from your sudden complete attention on him.
"You're so sweet and caring.........Very attentive and responsible. I like that in a man." You sat back in your seat, eating smaller bites off of your plate now. "You know, I can't find men like you anymore. Like, a lot of them always seem to have a lot of the qualities I want. Money, great hygiene, great taste in places they take me to, but..." You shook your head. "There's always that one thing that just....doesn't do it for me, you know?" Kento nods, understanding what you meant. He prayed that there wasn't anything you didn't like about him. Because he knows how picky you can get. And he'll play dollhouse with you a million times before you find out about how he managed to be with you in this moment.
"I used to give them a chance. That's what a lot of older women would tell me. Give them a chance, it's just one flaw, nenenene, whatever. But then I see the men that they stay with and it's.......I don't want to insult their taste, but. No. And every time I gave someone a chance, they revealed so many other things that I didn't like about them. The guy before you was just like you. So nice to me, had money, was neat and clean. He was great." You flip your hand around.
Kento internally monologues to himself, 'nice isn't enough'.
"But he was a fucking misogynist. I almost got slapped probably," Kento's eyebrows shoots up. "What?? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shake your head. "Nononono, I was exaggerating, I shouldn't have. Sorry."
"No, it's okay, you don't need to apologize. I just want to make sure nothing bad happened. Who was this guy?" You roll your eyes. "Some CEO at like, um........McDonald's. I'm surprised he wasn't fat." You insult him and scoff. Kento makes a hard mental note to do some deep research on all current and former CEO's of McDonald's establishments. And also to get into your phone's database.
"And him being nice wasn't enough at all." See? "And after all of the 'nice guys' I dated, and all of the weird misogynists-in-hiding i've spoken to, I have a very...very good feeling," You grab his cold hands with your very warm ones, "That you are so much more than every sleaze I gave crumbs to."
"......so I am receiving 'crumbs'?" You smile and let go of his hands. He dearly misses the warmth you provided to him. "The first date is always crumbs. It's just a matter if I believe that you deserve more than just that." You silently watch Kento pay for the bill before packing your stuff. Before you can get out of your seat, Kento almost(fully) rushes out of his to help you back up. You sweetly thank him, putting your jacket on(with his help again) and let out an exhale as you both step outside of the restaurant onto the streets.
It takes a few anxious seconds of silence for Kento to speak up. "Is it alright if we make some dessert at my place? I have all of the ingredients to make an apple pie, I didn't want to waste your time by just sitting on the couch with you. But if you want to call it a night, I can walk you back home and we can discuss our next date on the way back?"
When you turn and smile at him, the setting sun accents your face in every way possible. Kento prays to god that this moment in time isn't a dream. Without realizing, his face relaxes, brown eyes giving you that look as if you were his nonexistent teenage dream that he's meeting for the first time. It feels so natural when you slip your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together.
"No. I realize I want to do this with you. You're special. I hope you realize that by now." Kento can only stay silent while his heart nearly beats out of his chest for the entire way back to his place. You didn't mind the silence, humming and pointing at flowers or birds that caught your attention for a few seconds.
Kento goes over every door he locked and every little thing he hid around his house in case you agreed to be with him at his place. But now that you two were in front of his door, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So, he calmly opens his front door, lets you in first with a smile, before closing it behind him. He acts as if nothing is suspicious as you both take off your shoes and outside jackets, putting them in their respective places.
Kento excuses himself to open his sliding door in the back for ventilation, only to really check all doors for their locks, peek into certain rooms he purposefully left unlocked. "Hey, Kento?" You called from the kitchen. "Yes? Is there anything you need?" He calls back, making his way to the sliding door. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?"
"My home is your home. The bathroom is down the hall by the staircase." And it's as he opens the sliding doors that he tenses realizes you'd possibly open one of two doors at the end of the hallway. The one leading into his humongous shrine entirely dedicated to you, or the actual bathroom.
"Y/n, wait." Kento does a 180 turn and power walks back to the front of his home, about to turn left before nearly bumping into you. You pass him with the same speed he had almost, putting on your shoes you left by the door. His heart drops into his stomach when he turns and sees the door to his shrine left wide open. "Y/n-" You had already left out the door by the time he turns back to face you.
Kento thinks back to seven months ago when he first started stalking you. How long it took for him to get his first clear picture of your face in a crowd full of people. How long it took for him to build his body shape into the one you desired. How long it took for him to find a place in Shinjuku to be closer to you. To be in the same work company as you. And, fuck, did it take forever for him to get you to notice him. And now here you are. Running out of his apartment in fear of him. All of the love and desire he poured into you, into your beautiful shrine entirely dedicated to you. He was completely devoted to you. And you're running. How fucking stupid it was for him to believe he could have it easy.
His face forms into one of anger as you step out into the cold once more, as if you forgot every single good fucking thing he had brought onto you. You didn't even realize how close he got until you felt his iron-tight grip clamp onto your shoulder and yank you back into his apartment. You land onto the floor harshly and flinch when he slams the door shut, locking it tight.
You never realized how much bigger and stronger Nanami was compared to you until now. You were just a little mouse and he was like a tiger. "I can't let you go." He says. His heart feels as if it's hanging on a few strings in his chest. His throat begins to close out of stress and sadness. He didn't want to do this to you. He got so so so close....but you tried to ruin everything you two had build together.
"I'm sorry." He whispers. He rubs his face and turns his back to you. "Fuck." You stay silent and still. You couldn't believe what you had gotten yourself into. You couldn't have known that the silent businessman that worked a floor above you was a weirdo creep who would fucking hold you hostage.
"It was my fault. I knew that that door was unlocked. And forgot to lock it. I never wanted you to see that." He turns back to face you now. You're still silent. Nanami desperately wants you to say something. He missed the sound of your voice in his ears. He missed feeling your touch. And knowing it won't ever be genuine like it felt today just made it feel like a huge part of him died inside. The silence killed him.
"........You have to stay here." "No." You immediately respond to that, shaking your head. You scramble to your feet and step up to him. "I'm not your hostage, Nanami." He turns his head in mental pain, hating how you aren't on first-name basis now. "No, you're not. But you won't ever want to be with me again. And the last thing I need is for someone else to find out about it."
"Of fucking course I wouldn't want to be around you anymore. Who knows what other shit you've seen me do. It's so sickening to think I was going to be close to my stalker. Oh, jesus christ." The vile words pour out of your mouth and Nanami's jaw tenses. Nanami looked like a child being told he couldn't see his mother ever again and it just made you more pissed off. You wanted to leave. The door was right there. But his desire to want you....and keep you...kept you from being free.
You step back in thought. What the fuck are you going to do? As if he could read your mind, Nanami looks up at you. He hasn't moved once from his spot. "I will take care of you."
You shake your head and purse your lips. "I wouldn't dare neglect you. You are my angel. You know that. Right?" He takes a step closer. "We can sleep in the same bed once we get there...but until then, I can give you my bedroom."
His dining room and kitchen are big. With the surrounding space, you feel like you could get around him somehow. So you shed the jacket, letting it drop to the floor. "......" He stares at it before looking back up at you. "And then...I will also bathe you, and allow you to use the hygiene products I know you use." You scowl and cross your arms.
"I know you're trying to run." Nanami walks up to you as calmly as possible. But he moved where you moved. Which is how you ended up on the floor straddled when you tried shoving past him. "Please don't make me do this." He begs. You shout profanities at him, which eventually water down to you just sobbing, tears rushing down your face as you gasped for air. "Please, just let me go!" Nanami keeps your hands together with one hand, and wipes your face of your tears with the other. Your face was hot as you tried to avoid his cold touch.
Nanami shakily sighs. He really didn't want to say no to you. But you couldn't just leave. So for the first time ever, he ignored you. He ignored your squeals of fear as he hoists you off of the ground and brings you into the guest bedroom, locking the door from the outside. He ignores the loud bangs on the door as he cleans up the small mess left behind, putting away the prepped ingredients for the apple pie for another time. And he ignores that small selfish feeling of happiness bloom in his chest at his once in a lifetime chance to finally have something go right in his life. No matter how dark and twisted the path was to get to this point.
Astronomical reblog
Sukuna pleeeeez, I beg. How scary-hot is he? How terrified is darling when sitting on his lap 😩😩😩
Ryomen Sukuna
TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, Stockholm syndrome
gn reader
You’re not strong with cursed energy, but even you can feel the many lives Sukuna has basked in the blood of.
You can feel it in his hands – how it seeps into your bones when he drags his crass fingertips upon your skin, making you nauseous – how a simple little touch has goosebumps springing to the surface and a whimper jumping to your throat. It feels hot, burning with warmth like freshly spilled blood – like he’s smearing it on you in red staining streaks, with the weight of thousands of deaths that make you feel like you're rotting too.
But he calls you the sweetest things, despite his raspy timbre – things like turtledove, angelface, lovebug, spiderlily. And keeps you close, on his lap, sitting skin to skin within his kimono so he can cuddle you tight. His chin resting atop your head and his hands holding you around the waist, sometimes falling to your thighs and further in between them.
That deranged malice he shows everyone else is lost on you. With you, he’s balmy – soft and warm and mellow in that very quiet, studious way. Seeming almost jaded if it weren’t for how he tugs you close to his chest – coveting you like something precious.
Sometimes it’s almost as though he forgets how to communicate with words – rubbing his face into the nook of your neck, kissing you gently – silently asking you to comply and spread your legs wider for him before he has to get ugly with you.
You feel a bit dirty bending to his wishes so easily, but he makes you feel like the most precious little bite-sized thing – touching you there until you're just soaking with sin. Licking those feeble moans from your lips like there’s no sweeter thing. Sinking his fat length inside your heat slowly, feeling you swallow him up – wanting to know every tight inch personally – nudging right against that special place inside you until your thighs quake from the squeeze.
He gets lost in you when he gets far enough to feel your walls ripple around the size of him – how your whimpers turn breathy, and your fingers curl into his flesh with want.
He loves getting you there – to that point where you no longer care about what’s right and wrong – where the only thing you still care about is how good it feels to belong to him.
older reader?? SAY NO MORE
you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.
you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.
that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.
if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!
omgggggyou know me so well-
(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)
When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.
Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.
He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.
You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.
"You wake up pretty early."
It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.
You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.
"...Satoru?"
"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.
It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-
Shit.
"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.
"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"
When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.
"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."
Baby. You want to throw up.
"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."
Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.
What the fuck did you just do?
You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.
You fucked up.
Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.
Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.
He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.
You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.
And then, you ended up sleeping with him.
It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.
You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.
You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.
You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.
Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.
"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.
You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.
"Satoru, we need to talk-"
"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.
When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.
"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"
You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.
He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.
"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."
You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"
"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.
"What?"
"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"
You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"
"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"
He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.
You were a horrible person.
"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.
He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.
Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.
But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.
He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.
Not him. Anyone but him.
"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.
"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"
"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"
He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."
That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?
But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.
"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"
He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.
You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.
"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."
His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.
"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."
You pat his back, still in a daze.
Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.
He'll snap out of it eventually, right?
reader ate fr. The angst was so good omfg thank you
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “i’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. / “…mhmm.”
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: satoru gojo/f!reader, mild sukuna/reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 6.25k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: college au, fem reader, fuckboy satoru, protected sex ( wrap it up cumsluts ), jealousy, attempted hand-holding, brief nanami cameo, satoru gets hard attached and then is O.O when reader is like ‘nah imma dip now’, slight angst, unrequited love, previously established relationship ( just not w gojo 💀💀 ), cheating ( by reader ), bf sukuna.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: hmmm gojo’s not suffered enough, let’s do THIS 👹👹
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
Gojo Satoru was not nervous.
All he had to do was ask a simple girl in his Philosophy course out so he could take her home and sleep with her. He’d never asked any of the girls in his Philosophy course out, though, so he was a little hesitant. As odd as it would seem, he enjoyed this class, and he didn’t want anything awkward to happen — which was why Suguru had directed him your way.
‘“She won’t make it weird,”’ he’d said, though how he’d known when Satoru knew every person that his best friend had ever slept with ( and you had not been one of them ) was beyond him.
Remember, he thinks to himself, glancing over at you a few times in a way he thinks isn’t noticeable, She’s gonna fall all over you, just like all the others, as soon as you ask her out. Easy lay.
And he wasn’t nervous.
Class ends, and he waits for everyone to make their way out. From experience over the last semester and a half, you were one of the last people to leave, taking your time considering you didn’t have any more courses after this one ended at noon on Tuesdays until 5pm. Once only a few stragglers are left, he grabs his books and saunters over, plastering on one of his most breathtaking grins ( if he did say so himself ), then leaning against your desk. You don’t look at him, blatant disinterest emanating off of you, but he forges forward.
“So… I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” he asks, preening over how quick all the past yeses came. Men and women fell all over him like water rolls over stone in riverbeds,
“No.”
“Great, I was thinking maybe that new Italian joint—,” Satoru pauses. Blinks. Registers your words. “…What?”
“No. Is a two letter word so difficult for you to understand?” Satoru is… shocked, for lack of a better word. He’d never actually been told no before.
“But… why?” His question is whinier than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You narrow your eyes up at him.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you — but if you must know, I go on dates with the man I intend to be in a relationship with,” you say honestly, and Satoru fights back a snort. “I don’t date someone who’s only good for a quick fucking session.”
“I’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down.
“…Mhmm,” is your only reply, and he pouts. You go back to finishing up, and he thinks for a moment, drumming his fingers against the surface of your desk before shrugging.
“Interested in hooking up, then?” he asks, and you glance up at him questioningly. “We don’t have to date, we could just have sex.” Not that you’d want to keep him as ‘just a fuckbuddy’ for too long, Satoru thinks.
You hum softly, seeming to think it over, then give a slight nod. “Sure, we can fuck,” you say with a lazy shrug, then sigh. “But no feelings. I’m not interested, especially not with someone who has a reputation like yours.”
“You say that now, but you’re gonna be beggin’ for me to be your boyfriend,” Satoru chuckles, and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply, sounding amused as you cross your arms, and without missing a beat he waggles his eyebrows at you, and you raise one of your own. “What?”
“Wanna get started on this friends-with-benefits thing now? My car’s in the parking lot,” he grins, and you look completely unimpressed.
You resume picking up your notebooks and textbook, shoving them in your backpack and steadfastly refusing to look at his goofy expression. “I’m not fucking in your dirty-ass backseat,” you reply grumpily. “I might catch something.”
“I’ll have you know my car is amazing and clean and perfect,” Satoru retorts, acting as if his feelings are hurt, and you scoff.
“Not with you as a driver. Didn’t you hit a sorority mailbox last month?”
He’s silent for a moment. “We’re in philosophy class, you know. Most philosophers say that it’s ‘unwise to root yourself in the past’.”
You just blink at him, then roll your eyes again and slide your laptop into your bag. “That alone tells me everything I need to know.”
“Y’know, you’re really mean,” he pouts, and you have to fight off the urge to smile. Sometimes he was amusing, even though you didn’t want to admit it.
“I know. It’s one of my best traits,” you reply, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “See you in class.”
One week later, Gojo finally picks you up — that is, your shared Philosophy course ends and you both head to his car. You’ve both tossed your bags in the back and are sitting in the drive-through of a fast food place waiting on your coffees with you tapping away at your phone while he hands his card through the window so he can pay for the drinks you’d gotten along with his own.
He pulls forward after getting his card back, then brightens a little as he remembered the question he’d wanted to ask before he’d forgotten after asking if you wanted a drink.
“Do you want to type your address into my GPS so we can—“ Satoru starts, and his eyes widen when you interrupt him almost immediately.
“Not at my place. Never at my place, Gojo,” you snap, and he nods almost dumbly. He’d not expected you to be so stern about it, nor for you to deny him heading to your apartment or house or whatever ( especially considering his hookups typically didn’t care as long as they ended up with him in their bed. In the back of his mind an alarm bell rings, but he dumbly chose to ignore it.
“That’s — That’s fine, no problem, we can go to my place,” he replies, pushing a fake grin on his face. He watches you visibly relax back into the passenger seat, and relaxes himself before pulling up to the second window and taking your drinks. He hands you your drink then pulls away while sipping at his own Diet Coke, glancing at you every now and then as he drives back to his apartment rather than wherever you lived.
Part of him was nervous; he never really ever brought hookups back to his apartment — hell, he’d only brought like two of his prior girlfriends there, so this was a big break from his normal meet-up for sex. Still, he’d talked so much shit to Suguru when he’d said he’d manage to fuck you, so he couldn’t back out now.
He’d taken out the trash yesterday, right?
He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment, easing into his spot and putting the car in park before taking a breath and leaning back. You aren’t paying him any attention, still in your phone apparently texting someone from what he could see from the corner of his eye, and once you’re done you lock your phone before turning your body to face him in his seat.
You ask quietly, “Gojo… are you sure you want to do this?” and he pauses as he starts unclipping his seatbelt.
“Yeah, of course! Why would I, uh — Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, nodding with a smile. You raise an eyebrow.
“You’re acting nervous.” You deadpan, and he laughs.
“Nervous? I’m not nervous! Let’s fuck, babe,” he says brightly, opening his car door and hopping out as you shrug and unclip your own belt.
“…Don’t call me babe, but whatever. If you’re sure,” you say lazily, then add, “By the way, three of my friends know I came home with you, and I just dropped a location pin in a group chat, so… it’d be easier if you weren’t some creepo murderer.”
Satoru laughs again, this time actually amused. “That’s great, they’ll know the location of the best dick in Japan! Second floor.”
You scoff, but follow him up the stairs, stopping only as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and works on getting them in the lock. Eventually it pops into place, and you follow him inside, toeing off your shoes and following him quietly, eyeing him as he takes his loose coat off and tosses it on the back of his couch before following his lead to the bedroom. He lets you come in before turning to close the door, and is surprised when he turns and your shirt is already on the floor and you’re working on wiggling out of your tight skirt.
“I — oh! Like to do the work yourself, huh?” He jokes, and you scoff through a playful smile.
“Please. If we fuck and you just lay there, the entire campus will hear about it before midnight, I promise,” You reply. Satoru just grins.
“Who says we’ll be done by midnight?” He asks cheekily, and you laugh again.
“Gojo Satoru, it is two in the afternoon,” you say, and he laughs and starts unbuckling his belt.
“And?” he purrs, tossing it aside and kicking his pants away after they pool around his ankles, leaving his boxers on as you kick off your own skirt, leaving you in a mismatched bra and underwear set. He’s discovered he much prefers you this way — almost naked and ready to joke around with him — rather than the way you were cold and quiet in class. You actually seemed human here, and he was starting to understand why Suguru had said you were easy to be around; Satoru had thought he was lying just to fuck with him, but apparently you were typically this way in the bedroom and at parties after a few drinks. It was an interesting thing about you to learn in all honesty.
He presses his front to yours, wasting no time and dipping his head down to kiss you, mashing your lips together hard and his hands snake behind your back and unclip your bra at the same time that you slip the condom you’d taken out of your bra between your teeth and hook your thumbs in the waistband of his own underwear and push them down. He steps out of them as you stumble backwards towards his bed, leading him along before falling back with him on top of you, both of you still kissing.
You start to unwrap the condom. “You’re a good kisser,” you mumble into his mouth, reaching one hand down to shimmy out of your panties while the other tangles itself in his hair, tugging lightly. Once they’re over the edge of the bed they fall to your ankles and you just step out of them, reaching between your bodies and slipping the condom down his shaft with an experienced sort of ease that faintly amused him.
“Why the tone of surprise?” Satoru laughs, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to kiss a line down your throat, savoring the area over your pulse point as you let out soft, happy sighs.
“Mmm, kinda thought you’d have loser dick — but like, a real loser, not the sexy kind,” you reply honestly, and Satoru would have been offended if he wasn’t so fucking horny. He just laughs against your hot skin and keeps kissing, about to kneel when you tug him back up. “Don’t need your mouth on my cunt, need your cock in me,” you grunt, and Satoru barely chokes back the whimper that threatens to escape him.
“G-Gotta — Gotta prep you,” he argues as you reach between your bodies and grip his dick in an almost too-perfect grip.
“Prepped myself before class, and I’m plenty soaked,” you reply, pressing his head in. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the low groan that tumbles from his lips at the thought of you fingering open the hot cunt he was so close to, then sitting in class with him only a few seats away, ready and waiting for him to fill you. “Plus I enjoy the stretch. Don’t pussy out now, Gojo.”
“Stop calling me Gojo when I’m about to be balls deep in you,” Satoru growls, and you just laugh with a defiant glint in your eye.
“You gotta earn me saying your first name, loser boy,” you taunt, and he narrows his eyes before bottoming out in one go, watching in satisfaction as your eyes widen and your pupils blow further all at once… then the feeling hits.
“God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans, letting his head fall. “Fuckin’ hot too.”
“Don’t tell me slippin’ it in is gonna do it for you,” you whisper, and Satoru forces himself to pull out, his eyes squeezing shut at the perfect friction in the glide of his cock slipping out of you, before thrusting back in.
He starts a steady pumping of his hips, taking you over the edge of the bed like a beast on its bitch at a breeding bench. He can feel your nails digging into his back and scalp and it makes him make a tight fist in the sheets, soft moans falling from his mouth as he fucks into you desperately.
“F-Fuck — Oh god, Satoru, you fucking bastard-!” you moan, holding tight as he ruts into you, and he laughs breathlessly through a moan of his own.
“E-Earned it already?” he asks playfully, and you laugh through a moan yourself.
“Again, thought you were a real loser. Now shut up and keep fucking me,” your words come out in a low purr as you toss one arm around his neck, amd he busies himself with doing as told, not bothered by taking a command to fuck your willing body like this.
Soft groans of your name and his coupled with cursing and cries for God fill the room as the two of you fuck, your sweat and precum smearing across both of your bodies as you both get closer and closer to orgasm. “C’mon, just like that — gonna cum, gonna cum!” you whisper, and Satoru presses closer and keeps his pace and position the same, listening to the way your voice pitches. He’s been on the verge of cumming himself for the past fifteen minutes, but he’d be damned if he came before you the first time the two of you fucked — not when you still somehow thought he was a loser.
“Cum for me, babe, cum for me—“ he half-begs lowly, and you huff through a moan.
“What did I — did I say about calling me babe?” you ask, and he shakes his head.
“Sorry, sweetheart — God, please, just fucking cum already!”
You laugh a little, a laugh that breaks apart like brittle ice at the end as your pussy starts clenching tightly around his cock and you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck — fuck, fuck — fuckfuckfuck, cumming-!”
Satoru’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him, and the sounds of your cries as you cum around have his own falling from his lips as he fills the condom wrapped around his cock and you slowly relax completely into the bed, unmoving aside from a couple stray twitches and a lazy hand against his chest to get him off of you. He falls bonelessly onto the bed next to you, tugging the condom off and tossing it into the trash can by his bed before returning to letting his legs dangle off of the side of bed with his feet flat against the floor like yours.
He waits a moment, enjoying the silence between you both before asking, “Well?”
You make a confused noise and turn to look at him. “Well what?” you ask, amd he chuckles.
“Am I a loser?” he asks cheekily, and you laugh brightly.
“Oh, definitely. Big loser energy from you, Satoru,” you reply.
“What?!” he exclaims, turning onto his side to look at you head on, and you laugh again and nod as you sit up and stretch with your arms over your head.
“Yep. But hey — you’re a loser with good dick,” you offer, standing on slightly wobbly legs, and start to get dressed.
“What a comfort,” he mutters, acting annoyed, and you see through it just as he knew you would.
“It should be,” you reply, zipping up your skirt then putting on the shirt you’d thrown over your forearm. “See you later, loser. My ride’s outside.”
Satoru’s quiet for a second, unused to girls just leaving, much less having already called cars to wait for them outside while he fucks them, “…Yeah, later…” And you’re out the door in less than five minutes with nothing but a wave and a yawn.
After a moment he stands and makes his way into the kitchen, peeping out the window to see you climb into the passenger side of a car driven by someone with short pink hair. He sighs.
The sex was good — but today did not go like he’d expected.
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌
𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 dropped a pin!
meet me at starbucks
i’m getting a coffee
then we can fuck or wtv
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌
why r u getting coffee at 9pm
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌
don’t ask questions your tiny brain can’t understand the answers to
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌
i literally only asked why ur getting coffee so late :(
ur so mean :((
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌
and yet u still like to fuck me?? lmfao loser
Satoru throws his phone down on the passenger’s side seat, pouting with a huff and drumming his fingers against the top of the steering wheel as he slowly follows the line of traffic towards the Starbucks you’d pin dropped, and he sees you before you see him. You’re texting someone, a large coffee in hand, and you look… happy. Satoru didn’t think he’d ever actually seen you smile a real smile before, not in class when you’d ignored him for months before he’d proposed being fuckbuddies and not even during the last couple months that the two of you had been hooking up. Every now and then in between fucking each other he’d catch you gazing down at your phone with a fond look in your eyes, but he didn’t really ask about it anymore; you always dodged his questions, and it always led to you being in a foul mood and leaving him. He learned quickly to just… not say anything and let you do your own thing so he could empty his balls and you stay happy and with him.
Stay with him? God, what was the matter with him? He sounded like a clingy high-schooler, desperate to keep their first relationship. No, he was supposed to sleep with you once, get off, then go laugh about it with Suguru — not… whatever he was doing. It had been six months, why was he still here — fuck, who was he kidding? Satoru knew exactly why he was still here: he liked you. A lot.
He’s in too deep, and now he can’t back out.
You open the passenger side door, disrupting him from his thoughts. “Hmm, on time as usual. Desperate, huh?” you ask, sipping at your coffee, and it takes everything in Satoru to scoff at your words and start up the car as you clip on your seatbelt, because the answer was yes. He is desperate. He wants you, wants to hold your hand and take photos with you and brag about how beautiful you are to Suguru and his other friends, and wants for the world to know that you were each other’s partner. He wants to kiss you, not in the sloppy way that left your lipstick smeared across your face as he fucked into you, but softly and slowly so you can tell with each tiny shift how much he loves you. Yeah, you’re mean to him, you make fun of him all the damn time — but god, does he fucking like it.
It’s a slow, careful motion when he reaches a hand over to first grasp at your thigh before moving over ever so slightly to hold your hand as he drives, and a pang bounces through his chest as you immediately tug your hand away and turn away from him.
He doesn’t try to touch you again for the rest of the car ride, and before he knows it he’s once again back at his apartment, the motions of making his way to the bedroom with you at his back all a blur. You’re on him before he can remind himself to breathe as the sight of you bare and vulnerable before him takes his breath away as it always does — but you aren’t vulnerable, are you? You’re closed off, all sharp corners and twisted smiles, but maybe — just maybe — he’s blunting them a bit.
“O-Oh God — oh, fuck-!” Satoru whimpers softly, his thick eyelashes fluttering as he fists his hands in the sheets beneath him while you bounce on his cock, tiny gasps falling from your lips as you swallow up all of his thick length. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as drowns in the sensations of your sopping cunt taking him entirely, his fat tip slamming against your cervix with each rough drop down.
“Fuck yes, Satoru!” You hiss sharply, clenching around him and digging your nails into his shoulders. “Y’fill me up so fuckin’ good, ‘Toru-!”
“Yes, yes — fuckfuckfuck, c’mon!” Satoru whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours as they drop down harshly. “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart, so fuckin’ wet!”
Lewd wet noises and the slapping of bare flesh along with the crude banging of his headboard against the walk fill the bedroom, mixing with the sounds falling from your lips, as well as his. Satoru sits up, wrapping and arm around your middle as yours instinctively loop around his shoulders, your lips catching his in a searing kiss that sends a fond warmth from his mouth all the way down to his toes.
“God, yes,” you moan into his mouth, “So fuckin’ good, Satoru — don’t stop, don’t stop-!”
“Won’t, can’t, won’t stop!” Satoru promises through a moan of his own, a deep groan following it triggered by the feeling of your tongue running along his. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise as you tear your mouth away from his in order to latch onto his neck and bite down, nipping and kissing and sucking as his head falls back in time with the feeling of the soft heat kindling in his belly start growing hotter and hotter. “F-Fuck — damn it, m’gonna cum!”
“Cum for me, Satoru,” you whine sharply, and he whimpers a little.
“B-But you-?” he starts, his words devolving into a garbled moan as you pick up the pace.
“I’m close too — c’mon, ‘Toru, cum with me!” You plead softly, and Satoru needs no further prodding. He clings to you tightly as he starts cumming, his own fingernails digging into your skin as his hips buck up messily into your welcoming hips with each new burst of cum. Your voice pitches in the way he knows it does during your own orgasm, and he forces the haze away just enough so that he can look at you and watch you fall apart on his lap.
God, you’re beautiful.
The two of you bask in the moment for about ten minutes before you finally end it, pulling away and staggering into the bathroom in the hallway to piss. Satoru sighs and tosses the condom in the trash can after tying it off, falling back against his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. He can hear you come back into the bedroom, can hear you moving around, assumingly so you can no doubt be ready to leave again — which is why he’s surprised at the feeling of the blankets beneath him being thrown back and the mattress dipping beneath your weight.
He stares at you in surprise as you begin making yourself comfortable, fluffing your pillow and finding the spot on the side of the bed you’d chosen before you finally catch him staring. “Go to sleep, Gojo,” you mutter, shimmying around beneath the blankets as you try to get comfortable in a technically strange bed.
His eyes widen in half-wanting shock. “You’re staying the night?” Satoru asks hopefully, and you sigh.
“I’m tired,” you reply simply. “Now go to sleep.”
Sayoru nods wildly, his heart pounding. You were staying the night — you were staying. With him. “Yeah… yeah! Okay. Sleep. I can do that!”
You nod tiredly. “Good,” you say, amd you click off the lamp on the nightstand next to you as Satoru does the same. An odd silence fills the room as Satoru follows your previous motions of getting ready to rest before finally getting comfortable under the blankets.
He rolls over to rest on his side, staring at the way you lay with your back to him. “…Goodnight,” Satoru murmurs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours. It doesn’t sting as harshly as before when you move your hand away, considering you do allow him to drap his arm over your waist while pressing his chest to your back. You’re silent for a moment, but you do eventually respond as his warmth begins to seep into you.
“…Goodnight, Satoru,” you say, and he hums drowsily.
You’re both asleep within fifteen minutes. Neither of you comment on how well the two of your bodies slot together outside of sex.
It’s 1am when Satoru wakes up, his vision blurry and the red numbers on his bedside clock more aggressive than he remembered.
Blearily he pats the mattress behind himself, wondering why he’d turned away from you in his sleep, and finds nothing but cool sheets, which leads him to rolling over. He’s startled, almost certain he’ll find the bathroom light on in the hallway, but no — it’s darker than he’d like, even at twenty-three, and you’re not here. Snatching up his cellphone, a quick scan of it tells him all he needs to know.
You left him.
Again.
Three days later, Satoru finds himself parked in front of the dining hall on campus, waiting for you to come out, likely followed by one or two of your friends. After waiting about ten minutes, you do just that — only you’re walking closer to an older man in a suit than he for some reason felt comfortable with, and he moves around in his seat a little to get comfortable while watching your interactions with the man with narrowed eyes. He grits his teeth for a moment when the man touches your arm in a too-casual way, then crosses his own when he sees you smile at him. The two of you stop on the sidewalk several paces from his car, then finally split off.
“So… Who was that old guy?” he asks as you slip into the passenger seat, and you pause as you put your bag in the backseat. He doesn’t want to just foolishly believe that you’re genuinely confused, but he also doesn’t want to think ill of you without reason, so he ‘decides’ to withhold judgment for now.
“What?” you ask, confused, and he sighs in blatant annoyance.
“The old guy. The one you were literally just talking to,” he grouses. “The one who was getting so touchy.”
“‘Old guy’ — wait, the blond?” You ask, almost in a shocked way, and he nods. You snort; Satoru doesn’t know what’s so funny. “That was professor Kento — my History professor,” you reply, and Satoru can feel his cheeks heat up a little, but he refuses to look at you as you start laughing.
“Oh my god! You were fucking jealous of Professor Kento?!” you giggle, and while he’s embarrassed he can’t deny that he enjoys the sound, even if it was at his own expense. What the hell was wrong with him? “That’s so fucking wild — like c’mon man, we aren’t even dating. If I wanted to fuck Professor Kento, it wouldn’t even fucking matter.” A lump settles in Satoru’s throat at your words.
Yes, it would.
“But… you aren’t, right?” Satoru asks carefully as he pulls the car out of park, and you sigh.
“No, Satoru. I’m not going to fuck my History professor.” you say softly, blatantly amused, but it’s too late now — Satoru’s upset, and he can’t stop the words from coming out.
“Because I just — I don’t want anyone else with you like me, y’know?” he asks, almost paranoid. He fails to notice the way you stiffen next to him and forges on, his heartbeat quickening as his panic picks up. “It’s just — really like you. Like a lot. And it scares me. But it doesn’t scare me enough to not want you to myself, you know? I just want you and want to be with you and—“
“Take me home.”
Satoru pauses. “W-What?” he asks, uncertain of the icy tone you’d taken on when interrupting him.
“My address is in your GPS,” you say quietly, then repeat yourself. “Take me home.”
“But-“ Satoru whispers, but you shake your head almost violently.
“Now. Or I’ll walk,” you threaten lowly, and that’s all it takes for him to listen. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence until he reaches your apartment. You’re out of the car before he can say your name, and he’s following you before he can even ask himself why.
He’s right behind you as you go into your kitchen, watching in surprise as you pull out a large bottle of wine from the fridge while simultaneously throwing open a cabinet next to the refrigerator in order to pull out a wine glass. You pull the cork out, fill the glass, and empty it in one go before refilling it again.
Tentatively, Satoru says, “Please, I just — I think I’m in love with you. Can’t we talk about this?” and you laugh borderline hysterically.
“And say what?! What do you expect of me, Gojo?” you ask, your tone harsh enough to make him flinch, but he answers you anyway.
“I… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says softly, feeling smaller than he ever had before.
You laugh again, this time less hysterically and more in disbelief. “No,” You say, and Satoru blinks in shock.
“What? N-No?” He asks, voice shaky.
“No!” you snap icily, turning back to your wine. You empty your glass again as Satoru begins to reflect on the situation at hand; it’s bitterly ironic, the deja vū he’s feeling. This conversation is brutally close to the first time he’d asked you out all those months ago with the sole goal in mind being getting in your pants and ditching you, whether that meant hurting you in the process or not. How poetically cruel ( and simultaneously deserved ) that he’s the one hurt in the end.
“Can I ask why?” he finally asks, and you turn around tk face him again, your eyes wild and cold.
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” you growl, and he lifts his hands in surrender while nodding in agreement.
“I know that, I just—“ Satoru swallows hard. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Do something wrong? God, Gojo, yes! You asked me to be your fucking girlfriend — I literally said before we ever fucked that you couldn’t catch feelings, what is wrong with you?!
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his chest filled with a stabbing pain he’d nkt ever expected to experience while in your company.
“What does that matter now?! This thing we’ve been doing is over,” you mutter, taking a long drink of your wine. Satoru’s eyes widen exponentially, and the panic begins to set in anew.
“Over?!” he exclaims, shaking his head a little, and you scoff.
“Of course it’s over!” You snap angrily, pointing at him accusingly. “You ruined it! Feelings were never supposed to be involved!”
Satoru wilts completely.
“I’m sorry,” he says, just as quietly as before, and you sigh audibly as you lean against the counter.
“An apology won’t fix this,” you say bitterly. Satoru wants to argue, wants to assure you that he can be good and do better, that the two of you don’t have to stop seeing each other, but he’s instead startled when the door to the entry hall opens without warning, and he spins to glance at the doorway like whoever came in is intruding as you groan and cross your arms after putting down your wine, covering your eyes with one hand at the same time.
“C’mon Yuuji, kick your shoes off under the coat rack,” a deep voice rumbles, and a man with pink hair strolls in like he owns the place. Satoru would be extremely alarmed if you’d seemed so yourself, but you made no move to react, apparently used to the man being in your apartment. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the kitchen and see if she’s home yet.” His eyebrows raise with ill-concealed interest when he finally lays them on Satoru. “And who are you?”
“Who are you?” Satoru parrots quietly, a sickening feeling twisting his stomach as his mind thinks up just what scenario could lead to a random man in your apartment — but was he random?
Roommates. Please, please just be roommates, Satoru finds himself begging in his kind, though no one could hear him.
“I’m one of the two people on the lease of this apartment, and the boyfriend of the woman behind you,” the man says, narrowing his eyes; a jolt of nausea stabs through Satoru’s stomach. “I’ll ask again: who are you?”
“He’s no one, Sukuna,” you mutter, sounding annoyed. Yet another sharp pain shocks through Satoru’s chest, and he turns back to look at you in disbelief as you walk past him and wrap your arms around Sukuna’s waist, hugging him. Your voice is muffled by his chest when you say, “Welcome home, baby,” and he kisses the crown of your head and you let go, drifting over to the younger looking ( also very confused and clearly a little uncomfortable ) boy who resembles ‘Sukuna’. “C’mon Yuuji, help me set up the new console Sukuna and I got last Friday.”
The teenager follows without hesitation, the awkwardness on his face from the odd altercation fading as he starts talking to you excitedly about some boy in his Biology II class he thinks is cute, and suddenly Satoru is left alone with Sukuna. The other man is staring at him, and it's making him uncomfortable.
“Y’slept with her?” he asks finally, and again Satoru is startled. He just slowly nods, and Sukuna shrugs and moves past him to the fridge, fishing out a beer and popping the top off before taking a large swig. “No big deal. You’re not the first she’s run around with.”
Satoru’s startled all over again. “You… don’t care?”
“Oh, I absolutely care! I’ll have you know I’m a damn jealous man — but I know I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sukuna chuckles, looking completely unbothered as he shrugs again. “She’s my woman after all — has been since junior high.” He laughs, takes another drink, and continues while making his way over to the bottle of wine and the half empty glass she’d left on the counter. “Hell, she even officially adopted my kid brother with me when our grandfather died last year — Pretty sure she and I are set.”
Satoru feels sick, and he wants to go home. He understands now, he realizes that he never had a claim to your heart at all. God, he was an idiot.
Sukuna hums slightly in thought, tipping his head to the side ever so slightly. “Her sleeping around every now and then makes the sex better though. Every now and then we’ll agree we wanna spice things up, and she’ll pick some poor idiot to fuck. It makes me angry, gets me all jealous and possessive, and since we both love it when I fuck her like I hate her — even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth — it’s a double win.”
“So you just — you cheat on each other just to boost your sex?” Satory asks, completely in disbelief. Sukuna just scoffs and shakes his head, knocking back the rest of his beer before chasing it with the remnants of what you had left in your wine glass before crossing his arms.
“Nah, she’s it for me — never been interested in anyone else. Besides, I know she’ll always come back to me. She’s proven that today, hasn’t she?”
That stung — but he wasn’t wrong. You had proven yourself to your boyfriend again, and Satoru looked like nothing but a fool.
“Go home, Gojo,” Sukuna finally says, finally sounding annoyed. It seems his patience with Satoru being in his home has run as thin as possible. “She’s never going to love you, so leave. There’s nothing for you here.”
Absently Satoru wonders how Sukuna could possibly know his name when he’d never given it, until he registers that Sukuna must have known the entire time who he was because you’d told him about him, and didn’t that just make it worse? He’d been an idiot, had been so damn sure that you’d love him back.
Fuck. Just like before, Gojo Satoru was not nervous.
He was heartbroken instead.
𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
Yes.
gojo satoru drabble.
includes yandere! gojo, naive! reader, and adult themes so, mdni.
bestfriend! satoru, who doesn't mind you constantly asking him for outfit suggestions for your first dates.
bestfriend! satoru, who doesn't mind patting your hair and burying you in his chest after none of your dates lead to something serious.
bestfriend! satoru, who doesn't mind teaching you how to kiss properly, maybe that's why your previous dates weren't escalating.
bestfriend! satoru, who doesn't mind teaching you how to suck a cock, he promises guys will fall in love after you give them a good blowjob. letting his cock squirt his orgasm in your mouth, he swallows his guilt as you swallow his cum.
bestfriend! satoru, who suddenly regrets what he's done...he's plagued your innocent mind...but how can he help it...
bestfriend! satoru, who has worked so hard, beating up every single man who dropped you off at your shared apartment...went so far as to find out the tiniest details from their past and blackmail them with it so they don't ever see you again.
bestfriend! satoru, who loves you so much. and when you finally seem to reciprocate his love, all his guilt vanishes, because in the end, you wanted this as much as he did.
boyfriend! satoru, who makes sure to fuck you so hard that day, your pants and whimpers echoing in his room as he thrusts deep inside, his large throbbing cock stretching your tight walls, that you'll never want to go out on a first date ever again.
© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .
~You and Nanami take a bath~
CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced nudity but not really NSFW.
Word Count: 1,347
Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!
.-.-.
There used to be, you think, something calming about the sound of water lapping at the sides of a tub. The way the mirror and windows would fog, until your reflection was only a blob of color through the glass was delightfully anonymous, and you used to draw little flowers in the corners of the mirror when you were done bathing. The steamed room felt nice on your skin, and you always reached a light doze, warm and relaxed as you were in a tub with essential oils or salts or mountains of pearlescent bubbles. It was a private place, a slice of the world set aside just for you, and you treasured it.
There used to be something calming about it. But things changed.
Now you stood, shivering and bare except for a towel that was much too short wrapped tightly around you, nothing inside you feeling calm. It was easier, you knew, if you went along with the stereotypical domesticity that Nanami seemed to crave. It took you a while to understand, but when you realized and started treating him more like a husband than a man who probably suffered from insanity, he became calmer, smoother, like a rock polished of all its edges. Instead of hiding yourself away when he came home from whatever made him look beat up and bloody, you’d make him dinner. When you’d wake up to an empty bed, Nanami already long gone, you’d make it instead of trashing the room. You even tried to greet him at the door at the end of his workday, shyly pressing a kiss to his cheek, yet leaning back with a hammering heart whenever he seemed to want more.
You did this, because in return he became softer. He became- not like a husband, exactly, but a prison gaurd with his favorite prisoner. With his supervision, you were allowed to watch tv. You could request books or magazines from him, and he’d deliver. Once, you were even allowed to go to a park by his house, even though the entire time you were outside his arm stayed wrapped posessively around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly over your hip bone. It was a precarious balance of risk and reward, but as you stared at the tub, stomach sinking ever lower, you weren’t sure this risk was worth it.
This was too far.
“I can’t do it,” you said, staring at the slowly filling tub in front of you with terror. “This is too much.”
Nanami dipped his hand in the water, moving it back and forth, eyes unreadable behind his glinting glasses. “It’s just a bath. Nothing else.”
He was wrong, because it definitely was something more. Nanami had seen you in your underwear once, but only because you needed help changing the first night he took you, as you had a bad reaction to whatever drugs he used for sedation. He had never seen you naked. You and he had never, to put it bluntly, had sex. The most romantic thing he had done was kiss you on the lips, and both times you had fled to your shared room for the rest of the night. The only sleeping together you and Nanami did was sleeping in the most literal sense; you shared a bed, and only because Nanami insisted on it.
“We’re not having sex,” you blurted, then immediately felt your body go hot with embarrassment. It wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin; you’d had sex before, but it was never with a man who had kidnapped you. It was never with someone as strong as Nanami, who you had seen punch a hole through a metal door and come out of it with not even bruised knuckles. Watching the muscles in his arm flex as he stirred the water, you felt your mouth dry, and your hands tightined the grip they had on your towel.
“No,” Nanami said flatly, making you feel more ridiculous than ever. “We’re not having sex.”
He turned off the water, and the silence of the bathroom was more deafening than anything you could have imagined. The tub sat full, yet empty of people, like it was taunting you. Hadn’t Nanami just turned on the water? When had it have the time to fill up so quickly?
“Let me get in first,” you begged. “Please?”
Nanami’s brows rose. “I thought you would have been more against this.”
“I am!” you exclaimed. “It’s just that…” It’s just that you’d like to get in first and fast, so he’d barely have that chance to see you. Nanami had put some type of salt in the water, which made the room fill with the scent of lavender and gave a slight cloudyness to the quality of the water. Combined with the height of the water, it should be just enough to hide everything important from the towering man in front of you.
“...maybe you could turn around first?”
Nanami’s brows fell into a scowl, and he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes, of course. Turn my back on you, and allow you that chance to attack me. It’s only happened once, so why shouldn’t it happen again?”
“Only once! And that was weeks ago!” You waited in terse silence, watching for any reaction.
Nanami only crossed his arms over his bare chest, muscles bulging. He was in a towel too, but where yours covered you from collarbones to thighs, his only hung low on his hips, putting everything on display. Well, you thought, staring at the trail of dark blond curls starting at his belly button and trailing behind the towel, almost everything. How was he able to look so confident dressed in so little, while you felt like the world was collapsing in on you?
“I wouldn’t be able to do anything even if I wanted,” you tried. “There’s nothing in here for me to attack you with. So could you turn around for just a second? Please?”
Nanami sighed and shook his head, and just when you thought he was about to say no, he turned his back. You took this as your chance, shucking your towel and praying that he wouldn’t peek as you lunged into the steaming water, submerging yourself up to your neck. To your side, Nanami let out a grunt, and untied the towel, letting it fall to the ground, exposing his-
You jerked your head to the side, staring resolutely ahead. You didn’t move, not even when you heard Nanami step into the tub. When he settled, placing his legs so they were on either side of you, bracketing you in, your hands clenched.
Slowly, he slid an arm around you, ignoring the way you clung to the rim of the tub and pulling you against him with ease. You had never felt so much of his skin on yours, and you felt your pulse climb as he moved against you. His hand fell over your forehead and began to pull you back.
“Relax,” Nanami said. “Let me wash your hair.”
You forced yourself to stay still, resting against his chest as he cupped water over your head and hair. When you heard something click, you jumped, eyes shooting open only to see a bottle of shampoo. Nanami squeezed a fruity-scented dollop out, set the shampoo aside, then covered your eyes with his free hand. When you caught the hint and forced them shut again, he started moving strong fingers across your scalp, deliberate yet tender.
You stayed still against his chest, a heaviness overtaking you, and you fought back the drowsiness. As you did, Nanami worked his hands through your hair calmly, in little to no rush. He rinsed the suds from your hair, and placed a kiss at your temple before smoothing conditioner through your locks.
While he washed the conditioner from your hair, you sank into something resembling relaxation, and for a moment allowed yourself to pretend you were alone. The steady rise and fall of the chest behind you made it hard.
AAAAAARHGGFFFHHNYH
Just some Gojo headcanons based on this post on @discogirlsclub page, and cause I miss him </3
part 2.
Gojo Satoru is the living, breathing example of fuck boy appearance with a loverboy personality.
Loverboy!Satoru tells you about how he gets around with his ever cocky smirk but feels his knees buck everytime you look into his eyes with a little more love in them
Loverboy!Satoru who swears he's not corny but then sneakily comes behind your back to cover your eyes and ask "guess who?"
Loverboy!Satoru who loses his "I don't give a fuck" attitude the minute you're not giving him the attention he wants and he's groveling and having his hand onto your waist all. the. time.
Loverboy!Satoru who stands by how good he's at flirting but yaps your ears off like a loser in front of you, all his skills in casual flirting going down the drain.
Loverboy!Satoru who gets pouty and dramatic like an idiot after you don't respond to his texts immediately, already yearning. (very unfortunate for the curses though who'll be the victims of his glum, dampened mood.)
Loverboy!Satoru who is the grossest, nastiest, freakiest person when he's in love but a literal pile of mush at the same time.
Loverboy!Satoru who sends a video of himself cumming at your service, as soon as you ask for it and he fists his cock while your name leaves his lips like a writ in a string of whimpers.
Loverboy!Satoru who'll eat your pussy until you're pushing him away with his cloudy white locks fisted in your hand, teary eyed and quivering thighs and he'll just look at you with a stupid pussy drunk grin on his face and pull away with a soft kiss on your clit and with a husky, "You're so sweet baby.."
Loverboy!Satoru who gives you the best aftercare, from gathering your hair up gently and putting them in a claw clip to picking you up princess style to settle you in the tub, pulling you against his chest as the warmth of the bath surrounds you both
Loverboy!Satoruwho settles on being the little spoon after the bath or buries his face into your tits after being the strongest all day.
No thoughts..just Loverboy Gojo Satoru..