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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

image: emperor gojo | emperor naoya

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought were in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how were things from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

ha ha . . . so, there will be a part 2 :)

Girl Dad

Dad Series

Kento Nanami

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Taking care of a baby and a five-year-old isn’t easy, but Kento has it covered. You have a bad cold, the man can’t let you near his daughters. You need to rest and he won’t risk having the girls sick. However, Kento didn’t realize how much of a handful they would be.

Suki herself is enough to fill up Kento’s plate, but having a ten-month-old baby on top of it makes his job even more difficult. Suki loves her little sister, don’t get her wrong, but she will ensure that she’s the favorite daughter even if that includes sabotaging a toddler. Kento knows it, that’s why he keeps his eyes on her.

But Kento can’t keep his eye on Suki at all times, especially when you’re sick. He’s trying to cook a nutritious meal, he can’t hold a baby that loves to touch everything. The easiest solution is to put her in her playpen while he gives Suki something to entertain herself with. It’s usually his phone, giving her a game to play before he begins his other duties.

Sometimes the phone isn’t enough to entertain her. Suki loves to wander around the house, painting on the walls, playing with your decoration, making “potions” with your lotions and perfumes– The list goes on. But sometimes all of that isn’t enough to entertain her.

“Daddy, can I paint your nails?” Suki asks, walking to the kitchen where Kento makes lunch for everyone. Soup for you, something bland for his picky daughters, and then something simple for himself. In other words, his hands are full.

“Later, Suki.” Is all he says, and Suki stomps her little feet, walking back to the living room with her kid nail polish. Her little arms are crossed, and she looks around for something to do, something that will express her anger. She looks down at her nail polish then she hears some cooing from the playpen, and a lightbulb turns on.

Not even five minutes pass, and Kento hears his eldest daughter yelling at the baby. He turns off the stove and walks to the living room to hear Suki yell, “Bad, Chichi! Bad!”

“She’s not a dog, Suki. That’s your baby sister.” Kento corrects her because Suki treats the baby as her dog. Kento walks over to the playpen, where Suki reprimands the baby. Suki’s nail polish is spilled in front of the baby, and before her chubby hands can lay on top of the puddle, Kento picks her up from the playpen. “What happened here?”

“I climbed into the pen to play with her but she grabbed my nail polish and started to throw it around. Like usual.” Suki is a great actress, sticking out her bottom lip and crossing her arms.

“Is that true Chichi?” Kento softens his voice while talking to the clueless, happy baby. She smiles, causing Kento to smile back at her. He kisses her chubby cheek before putting his attention back on Suki. He hates to reprimand her but he can’t let her get away with everything anymore. “I’m not a dumbass, Suki. You can start doing bad things and blame it on her when she’s two or three, right now that won’t work.”

“I’m telling the truth!” She claims, but Kento is hearing none of it. She knows it’s not believable but her daddy usually believes her every word, so she hoped this time around he would believe her again.

“Get out of there, Suki, and stop lying before I put you on timeout again.” Kento can’t believe the words he’s saying. Timeout? Really? He hates it, he’s supposed to support her with everything, not reprimand her.

“Can I go with mommy?”

“She’s sleeping. Now go sit down on the couch and wait for the food.” He’s very serious, she can tell, so she won’t challenge him anymore.

“Can I play with Chichi?” Suki asks as Kento walks back to the kitchen with the baby. He looks at his sweet smiley baby, who reminds him so much of Suki. And to think Suki blames everything on a replica of herself– But he reminds himself that he’s the reason she acts like a little brat.

“Next thing you’ll do is put your mother’s makeup on her, you’ll blame it on the baby and we all get yelled at. I won’t risk it.” He clicks his tongue. 

Kento has to find a way to get Suki to stop blaming everything on the baby, but he has a feeling that’ll take a while.

---

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 

Touché. 

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet. 

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 

What a crybaby. 

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh. 

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…” 

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you. 

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.” 

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

 “First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule. 

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 

Still. 

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed. 

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement. 

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 

Heh. 

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!  

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm... 

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed. 

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 

No, good—God girl snap out of it! 

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him..

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 

“What's wrong, this time?”

“S’N-Nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch! 

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his. 

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 

Did those other dicks really count? 

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 

A devious smirk appears. 

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open. 

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The thread causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 

God help you, you want him. 

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone. 

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity? 

Self-respect? 

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

plug choso p3 next! (i promise!!!) taglist.

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

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✎ beach day

- gojo satoru x reader

in which the three of you (you, your husband and baby) spend the weekend on the beach!

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—crack, absolute fluff and smut—domestic and dad!gojo being whipped for you and how you... might want a piece of him :D

note: to rosette nonnie, thank you for the idea😋 let us have some fluff (and smut) for the weekend <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Shh! Look at him!"

You know your husband is a dreamboat.

As much as a pain in the ass he is, Gojo Satoru is blessed with looks too good for his karma, and he really looks like he belongs to clubs and bars rather than a family man.

"My... such a fine body..."

And he knows it too... that's why he was showing his assets among the beachgoers—sporting his sunglasses, sucking a popsicle, and having his abs on display for all to see through his cardigan.

"Heh." Attention is something he craved and that might be a sin. Still, he was never a paramount of innocence anyway~

Actually, he was waiting for you to put your baby in his swimsuit near the ice cream parlor, and he planned to show both of you off to everyone too later.

Or at least that was he thought.... until he saw you in flesh—

You, his one true bride, looked so damn tantalizing, wearing that skimpy swimsuit slash bikini while holding your adorable son in your arms, traversing through the crowd—who were gawking at you too.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Not his popsicle that fell from his grasp. Not those stares. Not those silent compliments or the starry-eyed girls. Just you in that fit, and the way your body just—

It made him think of unholy thoughts, like how you would writhe under him, for example.

"Do you like the sun?" you cooed at your smiling baby as he wiggled in your arms. "Ooh, so you love it!"

Satoru had always thought you were pretty, but now he realized he was wrong—you were drop-dead gorgeous, and you were his wife.

And now, everyone gets to see you like this. All those peasants.

When you approached him, his previous plan was forgotten and he acted without thinking. He yanked his cardigan, plucked his son from your hold and tossed the piece of clothing at you with an apprehensive expression. "Wear this!"

You gaped at him in surprise, barely catching the cardigan. "What? Why?"

"You're showing too much skin!" he exclaimed, his eyes beyond the tinted glasses hardening with conviction. "No way. That's not—" he struggled to find an excuse before settling on, "proper!"

"Proper?" Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at his claim before snorting. "Ha. Satoru, you—of all people—don't have the right to preach about impropriety!"

"Just... wear it!"

"No! I've been looking forward to wear this!"

Satoru pursed his lips into a very dissatisfied pout, and finally you could see the blush tinting his cheeks as he shifted his gaze away from you.

"You're hot as heck and I'm not letting them see your body, alright!? That's for me and my eyes only!"

You blinked once, then twice, and then thrice. It boggled you at how indignant your husband was about this matter.

Still, despite yourself, your heart skipped a beat, and somehow it thumped faster when you accidentally checked him out—now fully naked aside from his trunks. His sturdy body, meaty arms, and of course the happy trails—

It is a sight that usually graces your nightly wonders...

"Sigh..." you feigned a sigh, pushing the thought aside and hoping he wouldn't see how you had started to flush, putting on his oversized cardigan. "There, happy now?"

Your husband turned to you, assessing you from head to toe before awkwardly letting out a hum. "Hmph, better."

For a good ten seconds, neither of you said anything. Your cute baby looked between his parents with a visible question mark, and as if protesting, he pounded on Satoru's chest for an answer.

"Oof, what is it, little guy?" he glanced at the baby in surprise, finding his little blue eyes blinking at him. "Want to go into the water?"

"Mwa!"

"Right..." he cleared his throat and then looked at you again, his eyes darting everywhere too. "I'll play with him... so you, uh—"

"I'll wait under the parasol," you interjected, avoiding his gaze, before stalking away to the place.

You are married, for god's sake! You brushed the heat in your face for lusting after your husband...

But hey, is it so bad that you do? Gojo Satoru was your husband for many reasons like this one, right?

"C'mon, don't be afraid, I'm here!"

Your baby whimpered even after Satoru placed him in a floaty. It was his first time in water that wasn't his bathtub, and he clung to the donut for dear life.

"You won't drown," Satoru reassured with a hint of laughter, wading in the shallow waters to steady him. "If you do, your mama will drown me in vengeance, so no need to be afraid, okay?"

Meanwhile, you were a few feet away witnessing the interaction between the two loves of your life, and found yourself naturally smiling as you watched how Satoru eased your son into the water.

Soon, they were giggling together when he splashed water to your floating baby. He looked carefree, as did your little one, and they looked so alike, eyes sparkling with the same joy, just like the vast summer skies above.

"Yay! Yippie! Not that scary anymore, is it?" Satoru asked with a grin, full of adoration fixed solely on his baby son, making you fall in love with him all over again.

And once again, you couldn't help but appreciate just how attractive he truly was.

"Look at him, look at him!" and it seemed you weren't the only one as you heard whispers near you, realizing they were talking about your husband. "He is hot!"

You eyed them with clear daggers, but the gaggle of girls didn't seem to notice and continued gushing. He might be a dashing husband and sometimes a weirdo to you... but to giggling girls in the distance, your husband looked like a very eligible bachelor or worse, a dilf.

A part of you felt petty all of a sudden, unwilling to let this go.

So, when Satoru brought your son from the waters and was about to take a rest under the parasol with you, you rose, seizing the opportunity to make a point.

"Sweets, hey!" he grinned, so proud and gleaming with joy as he pointed at your baby. "He isn't afraid of—"

But you caught him off guard. Blocking his way, you placed a hand on his wet chest, stood on your tiptoes, and then reached up—

"Mwah!" You captured his lips with a deliberate smooching sound.

At that moment, you completely forgot you were in a public space... especially when Satoru's other arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he eagerly met your lips again in a passionate kiss the moment you pulled away.

How the two of you were seen by the other beachgoers, you didn't really care in the heat of the moment, too consumed by lust.

But of course, to them, you two painted the very portrait of a sinful husband and wife, as Satoru's other arm still propped the baby while the other held you in place, showcasing the undeniable intimacy.

And if only they knew what he whispered in your ear afterwards...

"You. Me. Later."

"Ahh..."

Pinned against the wall in the pristine bathroom of the resort where Satoru had booked for this beach trip, you could only keep gasping helplessly as he kept thrusting his hardened cock into you.

"You l-little minx— been trying to seduce me," he babbled, a confident smirk on his face as he pounded into you ruthlessly, hitting all correct spots.

Your lewd moans echoed off the bathroom walls as you held onto his shoulder, bodies pressed together in fervor. Standing before the mirror, you caught sight of your own expressions and Satoru's broad back, lined with scratches from your nails.

"Ah, ah, ah..." Your legs locked tightly around his waist, the heat in your lower belly building with each thrust. His fingers deftly undid the tie of your bikini strap, letting it fall to the floor. Without hesitation, he buried his face in the valley of your breasts next, causing you to arch your back.

"Mm, so warm here," he murmured, before sucking hard to leave a mark, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from you.

"You... can't hold... yourself back, huh?" you panted with a smile, squirming in his hold and digging your nails into his back. "How are you... this hard even without... foreplay?"

"Who needs foreplay w-when I have a wife this pretty?" he retorted, and you let out a breathless groan when this time, he sank himself into you deeper than before, feeling your walls clamping down on his heavy cock.

The way the coil in your belly almost burst but didn't at the same time made your vision swim. "Go f-faster... then!"

"Naughty..." his eyes glinted with obvious mischief as he looked up at you, before his voice became lower, your hot breaths setting his groin ablaze. "As you wish, wifey."

In the next one minute, you were almost screaming his name as his length dragged along your cervix mercilessly, your husband doing what he did best— rutting into you.

And then you shuddered, your fingers curled into the skin of his back as his hot seeds flowing inside your womb in a rush, before you went limp against him.

"Ow, that hurts," he muttered, half-amused by how you scratched him a little too deeply this time, but immediately concerned when he saw how drained you were. "You okay, sweets?"

"Mm-hm..." You were incoherent, pressing your eyes shut and leaning against the wall, feeling the excessive warmth and fullness in your lower belly after receiving his cum.

The sight of you so blissed out like this elicited a fond smile in his face. "Look at you, our baby will be worried if he sees his mama like so tired like this."

You cracked an eye open, unamused, but Satoru kept his smile as he slowly pulled out of you and carried you in a princess carry, letting you lean into him.

"Now get your rest, yeah? Will meet you later in this pretty bathroom tonight for round two so baby can get his sleep~"

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.11 i feel so high school

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 11/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.1k

a/n. hi friends! omg this chapter took me forever to finish even though i had 90% of it done for sooooo long. i just had a lot of self doubt for it :'') i have said this before n i'll say it again my mind is a prison smhhh. ANYWAYS i had the song "so high school" off of taylor swift's ttpd album (sped up ver.) on BLAST while writing this chap so if you wanna experience what i experienced while i wrote this chapter i highly recommend listening to it too lol it's pretty much this chapter's anthem hahah. hope you enjoy and i'll see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or errors im sorry im just a girl

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon, sun beating down on your skin from where you walk on sidewalk that's damp from sprinkler spray, although you’re not sure as to why, because the path leading to the host house is adorned with artificial turf all around that glitters with a wetness it didn’t need. The weather is getting hotter these days, and seemed to have flipped suddenly from gloomy overcast into full blown spring-time heat that has a thin layer of sweat sheening over your skin. Thank God for Mina, who convinced you to switch out of the jeans you were planning to wear in favor of something shorter and lighter, otherwise you would’ve been toasted. Although her true desire was for you to just “wear something cuter”, like the thin slip dress you’ve got on right now. 

The smell of barbeque smoke fills the air, and you see Mina in your periphery put a hand over her stomach.

“God, I’m so hungry,” she says as you two continue to walk up the sidewalk. Plastic pink flamingos line up on dirt, like arrowheads leading you towards suburban paradise. When there’s loud boombox music playing openly into the air, and sounds of people whoo!!-ing to pair, you know you’re close by. 

There’s a guy standing at the white picket fence entrance that leads into the backyard court, and he’s super familiar in the face. You recognize him as that guy you shared a couple shots of tequila with at that SAE party a while back, but his name fails to come to memory. He’s checking people’s phones and letting them in.

“Hey, Mina,” he greets her with familiarity, likely since Mina’s been to more SAE events than you have, given her and Todo are inseparable these days. His eyes flicker to you, widened and he greets you by name too, and now you feel awful that you don’t remember his. But he’s got one of those tacky corporate My name is… stickers plastered across his chest with the name Ryota scribbled across it, along with a drawing of a penis in a different colored marker, which you can only assume someone else drew on there and Ryota was simply Too Lazy To Care. 

He scans Mina’s phone first and then moves to scan yours, but not without letting out a huh noise and then you’re asking him what?

“Oh, nothing,” he says, “it’s just, in my four years of pledging for SAE I don’t think I’ve ever seen Satoru actually use one of his plus ones.”

You blink at him, feeling a twinge of heat in your cheeks. You’re dying to know more info about that, but he reaches over behind the fence gate to release the lock and then he opens it, gesturing for the two of you to head inside before he’s helping the people behind you.

The backyard is huge, it’s own concrete jungle with a tile-parameterized pool off to the left equipped with a jacuzzi in the corner, and only a couple of insane people choose to sit in that hot water while most of the rest are relaxing in the pool. Off to the right is the barbeque grill space, with SAE frat brothers distanced at stations as they yell things to one another like Hey, where’s the medium rare steak I asked for a half hour ago?!?!? and it’s fookin’ raw!!! like they’re on an episode of Hell’s Kitchen, but there’s a growing line of people standing eager with paper plates in their hands ready for lunch, so maybe the pressure was indeed on. 

Your eyes take in more as you step inside. There’s fake sandy gravel arranged near the pool over plastic tarps, which you’re assuming are stretched across for easy clean-up, and it doesn’t take you long to realize that this was a tropical-themed barbeque event. A makeshift bar is tucked over in the back at the outdoor kitchen counter, some beachside-mimicking establishment with seashells hanging and surfboards leaning as the guy shaking drinks has blackout shades on and is entirely too engrossed in his role. They’ve even got a little corner over where the concrete meets brick seating in a little closed off garden where there’s a projector screen set up and people are screaming, controllers in hand, while making enemies over a game of mario kart. 

You and Mina walk by two guys talking, a conversation that goes like—

frat bro 1: imma take your mom’s virginity bro

frat bro 2: she’s not a virgin bro. she gave birth to me 

frat bro 1: but bro. you don’t know that.

frat bro 2: …..you’re right bro…..i don’t….bro……..

–and then you hear Mina say “I’m already losing brain cells here.”

“Hey!!” you hear a familiar voice yell, your head turning in the direction of it, and you see Geto storming across the hot concrete towards the pool and he loses one of his flip flops in the process then steps barefoot on painful fake sandy gravel and he cusses under his breath before hopping over to the aqua-colored tile surrounding the water. “NO FOOD IN THE POOL!!! C’mon guys, how many times do I have to say it?!?!” 

You take a few cautious steps towards him because he looks like he’s on edge, well, literally, he’s balancing on the pool’s edge, but when he makes eye contact with you he looks pleasantly surprised. 

“Oh! Hey, y/n,” he approaches you, “and Mina. It’s nice you guys came.”

You give a little wave and Mina does too.

“I think Satoru’s somewhere out back getting supplies,” he tells you with a point over his shoulder and he deftly ducks his head under when he sees a pool ball flying his way in his periphery before it falls to your feet. You pick it up and throw it back to the outstretched arms in the water. 

“Oh, thanks,” you respond. “How’s it going? You look stressed.”

He sighs and you see he’s got a lot more hair falling over his forehead than what usually escapes his tight bun. “It’s going–...fine. Our social chair has been out this past week so I’ve been in charge of making sure things go smoothly today.” 

“Ohhh,” you and Mina acknowledge in unison.

You get some weird spidey sense, perhaps it’s your keen way of just knowing, or maybe you and him are cosmically connected by now, but you can just sense that Gojo’s near. You raise yourself a little on your tiptoes to peer past Geto’s shoulder, and sure enough, you see Gojo approaching with boxes of stuff in his arms. Geto becomes aware of your line of sight, and then he’s turning around to face him too.

“Hey,” he says, “why’re you carrying a box of condoms?”

“Huh?” Gojo says with a tilt of his head before he looks down at the stuff he's piled up, “oh, I dunno, Hide said he needed ‘em for something. But it’s Hide, so it’s definitely not for sex.”

There’s another man that lightly jogs up to Gojo, and you notice he’s got barbeque grease stains all over the front of his shirt and on his cheek too, as well as a cafeteria lunch lady hair net over his head. “Oh awesome, thanks man, needed these.” He takes the box of condoms from the top of the pile in Gojo’s arms, “we ran out of gloves.”

“Ohhh,” Geto says, with a few slow nods of understanding, before the realization flashes across his face, “........WAIT, WHAT?”

There’s some absurd conversation that breaks out between Hide and Geto, and then a loud thud startles you when Gojo drops everything he was carrying to approach you. You take in the entirety of his appearance– black shorts that hem at the rounds of his knees, a loose sleeveless shirt that shows off the flexed muscles of his arms a little too fucking much for your sanity’s sake, and he’s got his hair peaking out underneath a snapback he’s pulled on over his head. He looks so insanely fratty and douchey and the way he’s got his arms spread open as he gets into your space with that where my hug at? look on his face before he dips his head down to kiss you has you shoving him away by a palm pushing under his chin until now he’s just staring up at blue sky.

“Um, excuse you,” you say, “why are you greeting me like you’re my man.”

He groans and grabs your wrist to pull your hand away from his chin. “For fucks sake, let me be your man. We’re already dating in my head anyway.”

There’s another guy that approaches the group forming here, and he crouches down to open up the cardboard boxes Gojo abandoned on the floor. “Who the fuck was responsible for defrosting these hot dogs?! They’re solid as rock!!” 

Geto sighs, rubbing an exhausted hand across his face. “Oh, uh, Mina, y/n, this is Hide, and this is Sota,” he gestures to the two of them, “our other two housemates.”

The four of you exchange pleasantries and then Todo suddenly comes up behind Gojo, slinging his arm around him, before grabbing Mina’s hand from afar and placing a wet, sloppy kiss to the back of it. 

“My lady,” he says, retreating his arm from Gojo to fully step into Mina’s space, “shall we?”

She looks at you in courtesy, and you nod in approval, and then the two skip off together towards the pool. There’s shouting from the barbeque station and Hide and Sota make haste to get over there to put out a grill fire that their neglect was most likely the cause of.

“Um, where’s the restroom?” you ask, turning your head around to look. You just now notice there’s a pool house stretching across most of the courtyard with floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, past the arch that connects the main house to the garage. 

“You can try the one downstairs in the house,” Geto says, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Uh, I wouldn’t,” Gojo interjects, “unless you wanna be traumatized by the sight of a girl swallowing Choso whole while he’s seated on the toilet.”

Your nose curls up so high you can see it between your eyes. “No thanks,” you say.

Gojo grabs your hand, and he’s tugging you across the concrete. You’re still in sensory overload over all the stimuli around you, but your head is vaguely registering the fact that people are staring at you. Some with curiosity, others with studying eyes, some turned away, some turned towards, yet eyes still watching and you remember Ryota’s words from earlier about the history of Gojo’s never-used invites. The attention is a little nerve-wracking, but Gojo squeezes your hand twice as if he knows what you’re thinking right now, and the gesture puts you at ease. It’s been a week since the embarrassing and frightening intervention you had with Kai last week, and it’s sad to say, but Gojo and the other guys on the soccer team that helped you out that night are pretty much the only men you feel truly comfortable around right now. 

Gojo walks you to the pool house, and he points towards the inside to where the restroom is, and you thank him before hurrying in. You didn’t even need to pee, it’s just become some weird ritual for you to check in with yourself in front of a bathroom mirror at social events as you needlessly fix barely smudged mascara and smooth down the fabric of your clothing. 

Just have fun, is what you tell yourself in the mirror. There’s a sad sinking feeling underneath your rib cage when you realize you’re graduating in less than two months. Going to classes, doing assignments, having coffee dates with friends, organizing stuff for clubs, going to social events, just being an undergrad student who has all the fear in the world and no care for it, all the little things that have become a part of your life and have given you purpose, it’s all going to be gone soon, and you’ll have to fill the time and space with new things that give you purpose. Things that you want to carry with you into your adult life. Your actual adult life. Out in the “real world”, or whatever. And while the thought is scary, you also remind yourself that you’ve still got time left to just enjoy your college experience for what it is. You take some deep breaths, of which somehow make you a little more nervous than before, but it’s fine. You swallow the feeling. 

Gojo’s still standing outside the pool house where you left him, except he’s leaned back against the exterior and talking to a few of his frat brothers. 

“Hi,” you approach, sparing a small smile to the people he’s talking to just to be polite, but you’re not interested in any introduction. Your finger pokes Gojo’s elbow, and he leans himself off the wall, says some words of see ya around to the group and then he’s grabbing your hand again to lead you towards a different area of the backyard. The makeshift beachside bar.

He greets the guy behind the bartop with a solid grab of his hand and then he leans over the counter on one elbow, eyes on you. “Want something to drink?” he asks.

Your eyes squint to take in the writing scribbled across the blackboard hung up behind the counter. “Oh, no way,” you say when you realize the drinks are named after the players on the soccer team, albeit with cheeky twists on their names, all in anticipation of tomorrow’s win.

There’s a grin on Gojo’s face, “you should get mine.”

“What is yours?” you ask.

“Uh, I actually have no clue,” he confesses as he scratches his cheek and glances at the bartender, and now you’re both just waiting for an answer.

The guy pushes his blackout shades up his nose, and his skin is tan like he really did just come here from the beach. “Somethin’ like a blue lagoon, sweetheart. Blended,” he says, and you realize he’s most definitely too old to be a college student.

“Oh god,” you say, “is it gonna give me a brain freeze.”

The bartender gives you a nod to humor you but mixes it up for you anyway, then slides the drink across to you. It's chilly in your hand but it’s a welcome feeling under the heat of the sun. 

“Hey!! You guys,” Mina approaches with Todo tugged along by the hand, and her hair and clothes are soaking wet. “Can you count which one of us can hold our breath underwater the longest?? Please??”

You see Gojo reach behind the bar counter for a chilled long neck beer that he cracks open with the edge of the counter. “Sure,” he says, “You’d probably win, though. Better lung capacity. Todo’s been vaping since he learned how to spell. So, for, like, three years now.”

You can tell Todo’s already had a few drinks with the way he saunters over to Gojo, then slaps his back so harshly that it has him choking on the gulp of beer he just took.

“What the fuck–” Gojo sputters.

“Satoru here is going to be best man at our wedding someday, babe,” Todo slurs, “since he brought the two of us together.”

Gojo wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, all me,” he affirms and you roll your eyes, “I’m like that one angel with the love arrows. I forget the name.”

“Anteros,” you joke.

“Yes, that.”

“N-No–...cupid. It’s cupid.”

“Oh?” 

“My lady,” Todo slurs as he approaches Mina, “shall we go for another swim?”

You watch as Todo doesn’t even give her time to respond before he’s throwing her back into the pool, and you flinch as droplets of water from the splash threaten to graze you. You turn back to the bar counter and sip your drink through your straw, then look at Gojo who’s just staring at you.

“What?” you ask once you take your lips off the straw.

“Nothing. It looks like they’re having fun,” he says, peering off into the pool.

You glance over your shoulder at the water, “that’s true. I’m gonna be honest, it’s an odd match, but surprisingly it works. Like beauty and the beast.”

“What would we be?” he asks.

“Lady and the tramp.”

“Okay. I would find that insulting…….but I actually really like that movie so it’s fine.”

“Mm,” you smile at him mid sip, already halfway done with your drink with the prospect of brain freeze on the horizon. 

He’s grabbing your hand again, and you realize this entire afternoon might just be him taking you wherever he wants you while you essentially turn your brain off. But those eyes are on you again, peering ones that are intrigued by the way Gojo doesn’t seem to want to leave your side all day, like he’s usually everywhere else all at once, and was until you showed up, and now you’ve got all his attention and apparently that was some anomaly. 

People seem to want to say hi to him wherever he goes, or catch up with him about something or the other for conversations they’ve seemingly put pins in, you’ve noticed most guys that had no shame in eyeing you when you first walked in are now too scared to even look at you now that you’re in his presence, and perhaps the most jarring observation of yours is how many girls are just shamelessly and borderline seductively staring at him despite the fact that he’s in your presence.

He stops suddenly to turn around and face you, and you almost crash right into him.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks as he holds a hand above his eyes for shade, “the sun’s kinda harsh out here.”

“Oh no,” you comment sarcastically, eyes flicking up to the snapback he was wearing, “if only you had something on your head that could block the sun.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “if only.” And then he’s grabbing your hand again to lead you back to what you realize is the poolhouse. 

But then the two of you are stopped by a group of guys and girls, and suddenly, you realize that there are also a lot of eyes on you that are jealous. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna join us? We’re about to play power hour by the pool,” one of the guys says, gaze on Gojo before it drifts slowly to you in inclusion. 

There’s a girl standing next to him with her eyes flitting back and forth between you and Gojo before she gives you one look down your form, and then glances off towards the pool with disinterest. You blink at her, not proud of the assumptive what’s her problem? thought that flashes through your head but, seriously, what’s her fucking problem?

She’s twirling her hair and blinking up at Gojo before he finally responds to his frat brother with— “Oh, uh, nah. We’re good.” Like he wouldn’t trade two minutes alone with you on a couch tucked away inside the pool house with minimal decency for any amount of winning-at-public-drinking-game glory.

And that’s exactly where he leads you. A couch, tucked away inside the pool house, with minimal decency. He sets his bottle of beer down on the small table by the arm rest before he slumps down onto the couch, sunk in with hardly any give to the cushions, and he’s manspread to the moon as per usual as he pulls you to him with his hand holding your fingers until you’re standing in between his legs. Your knees bend to press into the sofa, and he lifts your hand into the air, holding it curled like you’re a lady in the mid eighteenth century and he’s about to kiss the back of your hand, except he’s just holding it that way to guide you into your seat. A more suitable action, at least. Modern and sleazy.

Your right knee is first to press into the cushion next to his thigh, and then your left knee follows until you’re hovered above him in a straddle. Then he settles you into the warmth of his lap with an urging hand on the small of your back, and you’re akin to the way he slides you up to above his groin once you’re sat. 

“You don’t want to get in the water?” he asks as his hand finds the bare skin of your thigh to caress while the other still lingers low on your back.

You can’t help but smooth your hands down his chest, and you swear he looks like he’s been made light headed by the action. “No. I didn’t know there was a pool here. Didn’t dress for the occasion.”

His eyes flick down to watch his own hand slide up your thigh until the fabric of your dress falls over his knuckles. You look down too, and maybe you’re vain for it but you’re a little obsessed with the way you look sitting in his lap. 

He seems to share the sentiment, considering he’s still hooked on the sight when he speaks. “The occasion of getting wet?”

“Mhm.”

Now he looks at you. “Weeeell sometimes you’ve gotta get a little wet to have a good time.”

“What are you getting at?” You place your hands on top of his shoulders and feel the rise of the blades when he shrugs. 

“Just some philosophy for ya. General wisdom. Tenets of life.”

“Ooo, big words there, did you learn them yesterday?”

“Don’t be sassy with me. It’ll get you into trouble.”

He brings his bottle of beer to his lips, loosely held in his hand with his head facing off to the side slightly so he can still maintain eye contact with you as he tips it back. Your eyes are immediately on his lips and fixated on the way his jaw is slack almost lazily, barely enough to let the amber liquid enter his mouth. 

His brow raises at how attentive you are to the sight, and he tips the bottle your way with a want some? look on his face, and in the beat too long that you take to answer, he’s already settled the cold glass rim on your bottom lip, a drop of bitter coating your tongue. Your chin tips up in silent permission for him to give you a decent swig of it, and the eye contact you give him as you take it is something sultry that makes him swallow hard, which you witness in the roll of the muscles of his neck. A droplet makes its way down your chin, and his thumb swipes it off for you, then he presses his thumb to your lips for you to lick.

Listen, he’s hot enough when you’re sober, but with drink in your veins, you’re worried you might fuck him hard enough not even your birth control could save you from what you’d coax from him. Alcohol is a hell of a drug, but so is his undivided attention.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask with a tremble in your voice when you feel his hands slide to hold your hips and his eyes look cloudy with something you can’t discern. 

“You. I’m thinking about you. Duh.”

“But what about me?” 

“Whatever the song just said.”

“I don’t even know this song.”

“You’d be a pretty bad stripper, then.”

Your skin feels seared inside out from how his eyes seem to undress you, and it doesn’t help that he’s way too hot blooded underneath you, running warm against your body’s attempts to keep its cool.

He slides you back a little, to where you’re not sitting right over his crotch anymore. 

You hold a tiny twist of your hair between your forefinger and your thumb to distract from his intense eye contact, in favor of inspecting for split ends. “Can I ask you something?” you say.

“Anything.”

“What was the bet?”

“Huh?” 

Your eyes flicker to his briefly, just for the duration that you speak. “You mentioned that the reason you messaged me those couple of months ago,” you start, “was because you lost some bet with Todo, and you had to help him get with Mina after that. What was the bet?”

“Just some stupid fantasy football thing,” he says. You tilt your head at him and briefly consider feigning interest in fantasy football, but you’re not that down bad. “I’m really glad though,” he continues, “since I got to meet you because of it.” Then he’s drinking from the bottle again. This time, you grab it from him once he’s done to consume some for yourself.

“What did you think of me when you first saw me?” you ask, the questions like an impulse you can’t control, and you swipe a drop of beer from your chin with the back of your hand.

He takes the bottle from your hand once you’re done swapping spit on it then sets it down on the table again, and there’s a moment of surprise on his face when he registers it’s a lot lighter than when you took it from him. And then his thumbs are back to rubbing those dizzying circles on your hips through the taut fabric of your dress, touch grazing up the curve of your waist when he feels like it. “Cute,” he says, first and foremost, “sorta wide-eyed and a little lost. Not the type to put casual sex on the table in the way that I thought you would.” 

“That’s a little insulting.”

His brow furrows for a moment before he sighs. “Your head’s a very pretty yet very strange thing.”

“Do I not seem promiscuous?” you ask, not even sure why you’re offended by it, “I can be–” you catch the slurring of your words, “I can be chill, and the type to have casual sex. No strings attached girl. I could be that if I wanted to.” 

“Maybe,” he says, a slight tilt to his head as he looks at you with something you’d describe as adoration, “but not for me.” And then suddenly his features turn sharp again. “Oh, and not for any other guy, either.”

You roll your eyes at his latter statement and ignore it. “But wasn’t that what you wanted from the beginning,” you say with a hic and a finger lightly grazing down his chest which he tucks his chin to watch, and you clarify when you realize you’ve lost him, “Casual.”

He senses you’re playing a game now, of cat and mouse, or just-tell-me-what-I-wanna-hear-already.

“At the beginning, sure. But not so much anymore.” And he ends it there.

You raise an eyebrow. 

He sighs. “I need you to know that I’m not great with words.”

“Neither am I,” you say, just to feel similar to him somehow.

“I disagree,” he states, like he sees right through it, and he leans away from you to lay back, hands leaving your hips to set his elbows up on the couch, open for proper conversation all of a sudden. “You’re good with words.”

You pinch the fabric of his shirt in a fidget, and raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“I don’t know,” he tries to elaborate, “you just know what you want and you ask for it. I don’t always know what I want from people, so I hardly ask for much.”

You release your grip of his shirt. He sulks about it. “I can recall you asking me to call you daddy once. Weirdo.”

“Wow. I open up to you and then you kink shame me.”

You giggle a little, because he’s funny sometimes, and he’s showing you his appreciation for the sound of your laughter in the air by giving you a playful pinch to the plush of your thigh. 

“Sorry,” you drawl, “it was on my mind. Because of–” you point to the ceiling, “because of what the song just said.”

He laughs. “You’re not into it though? The– uh, you know what I mean.” Evading the word like he’s preserving propriety for now.

“I don’t hate it for other people…not really trying to yuck anyone’s yum here, but my, um, my real dad’s not around anymore so it’s just a little,” you pause, feeling awkward, “weird for me I think.”

“Oh,” his brow furrows, like he’s glad he preserved that propriety from earlier, “my bad. If it’s any consolation, I was half joking.”

“Half is good enough for me,” you tell him, in a voice a little higher pitched than your usual, and you hold his face still by the jaw before leaning forward on foreign instinct to kiss him but you stop yourself right before you do. Eyes on your lips now, he leans forward to seal what you teased but you’re only stopping him as well by the heel of your hand pressed to his sternum.

He remains close though, gaze still fixated on the light tuck of your bottom lip under your front teeth, and when his eyes flicker up to yours again, they’re wild and dark.

“I like this weird thing we’re doing,” he exhales, sorta husky, “where you won’t let me kiss you. It’s hot.”

“Ok,” you say, with a small shrug as you push him away until he’s leaned all the way back onto the couch again, “I’ll keep it up forever then.”

He can’t help the groan that leaves him as he tips his head back in agony. “I’d die. I’d literally fucking die.”

You roll your eyes at the drama. “Isn’t this nice though? No kissing means more talking.”

“Yes, because talking is exactly what I wanna be doing with you while you’re sitting in my lap.”

Your shoulders drop in a bit of a sulk, and his eyes soften at the sight.

“I do,” he starts as he leans forward before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, dangerously close to breaking rules, but he needed to kiss your pout away somehow, “really love talking to you, though.”

You can’t think of anything clever to retort with, so you wear your heart on your sleeve. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m pretty sure I could recite everything you’ve ever said to me off the top of my head, and that’s given the fact I’ve got the memory of a goldfish on any good day, so,” he says as he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. It’s a messy tuck, one you have to fix yourself anyway, and when your fingers brush against his from the redundant movement, he holds your hand, “but yeah, sure, I’m just saying it.”

He pulls your hand from where it’s near your ear, and interlocks his fingers with yours in that intimate way that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s the texture of his callouses against the back of your hand, rough on his fingertips yet soothing over your skin, and it reminds you of when he held your hand in that hotel room. From the look in his eyes, you can tell he’s thinking of it too.

The memory is intense, and it has you shifting your weight a little in his lap, until you accidentally rub your panties right over his crotch and a soft gasp leaves your lips when you realize that he’s hard underneath you. 

The motion gets a groan out of him as he tilts his head back and his hands grip tight on your hips to keep you there.

“Hey. No. I didn’t mean to do that. Don’t get aroused,” you squeak out. The ribbed expanse of his neck as he’s leaned back makes you want to kiss him at the taut skin, right near the vein that’s tense down from behind his ear to his collarbone.

He tips his head back down to level his gaze with yours. “It’s way too late for that.”

You struggle a little against his grip, and the sensation of his erection held snug against your clothed heat sends a pleasureful ache to your lower tummy. “Y-You’re just gonna suffer, then.”

“Yes. Which is a pattern with you. But I kinda like it.”

“Mm. Your head’s a very strange thing.”

“My head? Baby, my head hasn’t done any of the thinking since I saw you in this dress.”

You feel like you’re on fire. “You’re such a whore today.”

“Can’t a dude just chill on a couch with the girl he likes. Jesus.”

You know he's said it already, so it's no secret, but him calling you the girl he likes makes your head spin hazy in a way you wish it wouldn't. Because half of your heart is telling you it's the bare minimum you'd want, while the other half is telling you it's all you'll ever need to hear from him for the rest of your life. 

He’s bouncing one of his legs up and down in relief of some of the self restraint he’s exercising right now, and it’s making you sway a little in his lap while he admires you.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs with a shake of his head, like it’s torture for him in the best way possible, and then his nose nuzzles under your jaw, right where you sprayed your perfume. You shiver when he presses a kiss there. “Pretty girl.” 

You lightly push his shoulder with the heel of your palm so that he pulls away to look at you, and a few shy flutters of your eyes tell him people might see us, to which his eyes say don’t care as he tilts his hips up towards yours. 

Most guys would match the tempo of the music with a slow grind like this, but of course he makes his own. One he settles you into with guiding hands on your hips, the way he wants it. One that makes your hand shoot out to grip his shoulder for purchase when your hips start to move on their own from the feeling of him hard and hot and excited underneath you, until he's got you unsure of whose idea this was in the first place. 

“Fuck,” he exhales with a slack jaw, all air and no tone, when you rock your hips forward and he leans back on the couch as he starts to grind up against you as well, firm and flush, and you’re satisfied by the loss of his composure. 

You’re sure you’re nothing but sopping, unadulterated wet between your legs, and if the fabric over his crotch was any shade of black lighter, he’d be able to see the mess you’re making on him. It’s a shame. Or maybe you’re glad he’s unaware. Unless—

“I can feel how wet you are,” he tells you, sounding like he’s out of breath from the sensation alone as his finger hooks the hem of your dress up just enough to eye the sight of where you’re sat on him, “if you’re gonna play hard to get, you’ve gotta learn to control your arousal a bit better than this.”

“Oh,” you squeak out, his words having the opposite effect, and you squirm when you say, “y–...you’re one to talk.”

“I’m not trying to hide how much I want you right now,” he says, and he proves it by holding your clothed arousal flush against his heavy erection to where you can feel it twitch with need underneath layers of impossibly taut fabric, and he caves into a harsh jut of his hips upwards, bumping against your clit and when you gasp then lean into his chest with your chin tipping up to the ceiling, he kisses your neck where your hair is stuck to the sweat at your nape. 

It's true, if actions could speak, his say I wanna fuck you senseless right now. And the way you can practically feel his cock ache as he’s rolling his hips up into you tells you he's about two seconds of resolve away from fucking you senseless right now. But he also knows that it's a game, and for a moment you forgot how good he is at winning those things.

You halt movement for a second, and his fingers press into the plush of your ass to get you to keep going with it, but you don’t. “What are we doing. Dry humping on a couch like we're high schoolers.”

He makes a point to teasingly poke you under your ribcage, and you flinch then swat his hand away. "Just seeing how far you'll let me take you without letting me kiss you."

"What if all the way?"

"All the way without getting to kiss you? I couldn't even imagine that." He pauses in thought. "No, wait, yes I can." He pauses in thought again. "Holy fuck, can we?"

"Do yourself a favor and stop thinking."

He purses his lips in a pout, his leg that’s been bouncing up and down picking up in vigor, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s genuinely starting to lose his sanity, or if it’s because he wants to see your tits jiggle with the motion, but maybe the latter since he dips his head down to kiss right above the neckline of your dress, where the softness of your breast starts. It’s a light kiss, more of a brush of his lips, and he breathes in the scent of your skin like it’s a drug. “How do you always smell so nice?” he mumbles against you, “drives me insane.”

His palm smooths up the side of your waist before he tucks his thumb under your breast while his other fingers wrap your ribcage, and his teeth catch the lace of your dress to tug down, revealing more of your soft sweat slicked skin and his gaze flicks up to meet yours in teasing eye contact.

God, just one touch between your thighs would reveal how flush your panties are stuck to your pussy by the embarrassing amount of arousal, entirely disproportionate to the minimal amount of obscenity it took from him to get you there. And the lewd sight of him tugging at the neckline of your dress with his canines makes you wonder if his teeth would be enough to peel the soaked and skin-flush cloth of your panties off of you, or if his hands would have to get involved. 

Like he reads your mind, his other hand comes between your thighs and he brushes two of his fingers over your clothed clit, light pressure placed like he’s just playing with you, yet it’s somehow enough to where your hand shoots out to grab his forearm with nails digging into his skin.

His teeth release the lace of your neckline when you writhe in his hold and he moves his lips to your ear. “Too much?” he murmurs.

“Mm,” you hum, hard to think when he’s drawing circles over you now and you can feel the wetness dripping out of you. His middle finger slides to the place where it soaks your panties, prodding slightly, the only thing keeping him from fingering you right now being the flimsy cotton fabric.

There’s a brief silence around you as music abruptly stops, lasting for maybe three seconds before it resumes, like someone was fumbling to change the song out in the courtyard, and it’s barely sobering enough for you to remember that the two of you are still in potential eyesights of other people and your cheeks flush as you pull his hand out from between your thighs. 

"Are—” you gasp a little, “are you excited for tomorrow?" you ask in an aim to distract as you guide his hand back to your waist.

"Huh?" he huffs, tearing his eyes away from your cleavage to look at your face, his features twisting into confusion and some sort of frustration too. Sexual, most likely. His leg is bouncing again.

You blink at him, alcohol from earlier starting to get to your head. "The big game tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah, very," he mindlessly kisses your cheek, "excited."

"You know," you start, arms sliding past his shoulders and loosely locking behind his neck so you can lean off to the side in a dizziness that he keeps you from falling from by both hands holding onto your waist, “I used to–" you can't even finish your sentence without preemptively giggling because you can already imagine how he'll react, "I used to play soccer when I was younger. When I was a young one. In my youth.”

He scoffs in disbelief, and he’s poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek with some boyish interest in his eyes and you can tell he thinks you’re just fucking with him. “Yeaahhh right.”

You, and the alcohol, tell him, “No really, I did!!”

You think you’ve lost balance when you fall more to the side than you intended, but then you realize he’s just shifting you to lay on your back and now he’s hovering over you on the couch. His toned arms frame the sight you’re looking up at as you blink slowly to admire his face, and then your wrists that are still crossed behind his neck are tugging down because you need him a little closer. 

He comes down onto one elbow, sunk into the cushion for leverage, and his other forearm slides under your waist. The fabric of your dress has fallen to your hips to expose the skin of your thigh as you press it against the side of his hip.

“Alright. What position did you play then?”

Fuck. In fairness, you would’ve remembered all things better if the ethanol wasn’t metabolizing in your veins.

“I was,” you look past him to the ceiling briefly, “the…fielder.”

“The fielder?”

“Something like that.”

“Uh, like a midfielder?”

“No, no, not mid,” you pout with a shake of your head, “above average.” 

He snorts. “I don’t think you’ve played a single day in your life.”

“I did,” it comes off as a bit of a whine, because you’re frustrated he doesn’t believe you, “I remember once in a middle school match I was playing defense and this girl elbowed me in the boob and I called her a bitch and the referee told me I couldn’t play for the rest of the game. So I called him a bitch too.”

His grin is wide like he’s proud of you for it. “Atta girllll,” he drawls, a curl to his tongue to fight the slur of his own words, and he lifts your butt up with one cupped hand underneath it until your hips are pressed against his again, and you loosely wrap your legs around him, too enveloped with delirium to care about anything else anymore. He resists the urge of rutting his hips into yours for the better part of half a second. You stifle your moan with a purse of your lips.

“I’m. A little bit.” You say between a hiccup.

“A little bit what?”

“Little bit tipsy.”

“From what? The beer?”

Another hic. “I think so.”

“You’re so cute it’s honestly killing me.”

You bring your hands up to hold his face, one thumb caressing his cheek, and he lowers his head down to rest his forehead against yours, then you’re both looking into each other's eyes for what feels like forever. Your pinky can feel his pulse thrumming fast under his jaw, his eyes so soft and sweet and serene you didn’t even know it was possible for anyone to look at you with that much adoration. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 

Your head tilts up, a few flutters of your lashes as you lick your lips and succeed in drawing his gaze to them when he realizes you’re finally giving him the permission. You tuck your bottom lip under your front teeth, suddenly shy in anticipation, and his thumb pulls it out from under and presses into the softness of it, and both of your chests are rising in slow rhythm with one another when he finally dips his head down to–

“Yo! Satoru,” a loud voice calls out in interruption from the glass sliding doors of the pool house. You turn your head towards the source and feel Gojo’s hand possessively pull the fabric of your dress up your thigh to preserve your modesty. You see one of his frat brothers standing in the frame holding up a pair of metal tongs, clacking them in the air to get his attention. “It’s your turn to grill, man.”

You turn your head from his frat brother back to Gojo and watch as he blinks blankly off into the distance, the two of you clearly pulled out of the feverish trance you were just relishing in, and then you see Gojo wave a dismissive hand in the air as if to say yeah, yeah, okay, gimme a sec which is somehow convincing enough to get his frat brother to head back to the barbecue stand. 

Gojo snakes his arm around your waist and lifts you up with him, sitting and sinking back into the cushion of the couch and you wobble a little from the dizziness of suddenly being upright as he pulls you into his lap again. His eyes are darting across the features of your face while he has a small tug of a pout to his lips. 

“Okay. Well. It seems I have to feed the masses, so.”

“So?” you prod him to finish.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Then go.”

“I will,” he says. 

You try your best to hide the sulk that weighs on your shoulders, because you don’t want him to go, and when you study his face, you notice his expression relaxes a little and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards slightly into some sort of smirk. Like he’s caught on that you’re still on the edge of what could’ve been a kiss, and he’s satisfied that you’re the one craving it now. 

You dislike the loss of power over him, and you roll your hips once over his crotch to find that he’s still hard underneath you and he sucks a harsh breath through his teeth before a low growl leaves his lips, and then he’s softly glaring at you. 

“Maybe meditate,” you say to him, “for the boner to go away.”

He snorts, and you blush when you realize it’s because you made it sound more like an infomercial rather than something sexy and minxy and alluring like you were going for, but he still kisses your cheek regardless before he slides you off of him. And you realize you almost like these chaste kisses more than anything else. “It’s fine,” he says, “like I said, I’ve gotten used to it with you.”

His words make you briefly wonder how many boners you’ve given him, and then you realize you’d really rather not know. Although it would probably be strangely endearing to know. But still. For some reason. You’d really rather not know. Or maybe you would?…Now you feel like you’re the one that needs to meditate. 

He gets up off the couch with an exhale of a grunt leaving him, the couch adjusting so harshly to his lack of body weight that the springs bounce you up and down once or twice from the motion, and you’re sitting on your heels from where you look up at him, seemingly still as a statue like you’re not going anywhere. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come get some food, yeah?”

“Mhm. In a sec.”

He hesitates for a second like he wants to ask a question, or maybe multiple, but he just lightly shrugs, gaze lingering on you for a short second before he turns on his heel to head out of the pool house and out towards the barbecue station. The second he’s far away enough for you, you let out the almost crestfallen sigh you were holding in before plopping down onto your back onto the cushions.

And here you were, laying on a couch staring up at the pool house ceiling, occupying yourself with the study of a dusty cobweb across the wooden pillar high into the structure, so you don't have to think about the way you've been left high and dry. Why do people say high and dry? If anything, you’re high and soaked. Well, you suppose for men it’d be high and dry. But the phrase should be bisexual at the very least. Er– unisex? …gender inclusive?

You realize you’re still a little tipsy. 

Gojo's words from earlier linger, "Weeeell sometimes you’ve gotta get a little wet to have a good time." Okay, well, you would’ve chosen pool wet instead of left-here-an-aroused-mess wet if you had any clue what your options were beforehand. 

Your head lifts up off the cushions until you're seated straight, tilting your head side to side as you peer off into the courtyard, still a little dizzy from the buzz, and you grab Gojo's now flat abandoned beer to finish the rest of it off in one fell swoop before you stand up and head towards the courtyard.

You stop in the broad door frame of sliding glass doors of the pool house, arms crossing as you take in the sight of people all around you. Holding their breath underwater, sprawled on lawn chairs while eating hot dogs, oaky smoke slightly fogging and burning the clarity of your vision as your eyes settle over at the barbeque station. Plastic tablecloths cling to white fold-out tables with custom print for SAE and UTOKYO's D1 SOCCER publicity arranged in amateur graphic design fashion, and you see Gojo standing at the grill flipping the meat he was making work to cook. There's a line developing, and you realize it's lunch time. Hide's taking special orders at the line, chatting up some girls who you're pretty sure you've seen in sorority Instagram pages, and you watch as Hide throws a pointing thumb behind him towards Gojo, and then a trio of those girls split from the line to make their way over to him at the grill.

You squint your eyes to focus your vision, and you realize one of the girls is the one from earlier that was looking you up and down and sideways before batting her eyelashes at Gojo when you were standing right next to him.

The trio exchange a brief word to one another before that girl taps on Gojo's shoulder. Whatever conversation he was having with one of his frat brothers is interrupted when he turns to look at her. You see that signature clueless "huh?" look on his face, and she's pointing at the grill. Oh, special instructions, you can practically hear the thought that flashes through his head, but you feel uneasy. When there's music this loud, and you want a guy to lean in closer to you, then you talk real quiet, right? It’s a trick as old as time. And that's exactly what happens in front of you, when he leans down because he can't hear her purposefully hushed words, and then the girl wastes no time in wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her and—

Your heart drops to the ground at the same time your mouth falls open when you see her kiss him, glossy lips sickeningly sweetly pressed against his mouth, and the pure hurt that spreads through you is fully sobering to say the least.

Shock is the only expression you can see on his face from here, and he's quick to pull away, but god, it was still tough as hell to witness. His lips read "what the fuck?" as he confronts the action, before his gaze immediately darts towards the poolhouse and he makes eye contact with you, panicked worry written all over his face, and you roll your eyes before storming off across the courtyard towards the main house. There are eyes on you paired with hushed whispers of gossip but you just can’t bring yourself to care with the way your stomach feels like it’s been flipped upside down like you’re about to straight up puke right now, and you barely register bumping your shoulder into Geto and Nanami before they call out your name behind you with a few words of concern, and then you hear Gojo’s voice calling out to you too, but you continue to hurriedly push on until you disappear into the main house, around the corner, down a slim hallway, and barely make it into a tiny little walk-in coat closet when you feel a warm hand wrap around your wrist. 

"Hey– y/n, wait—" you hear Gojo desperately stutter behind you, stopping you. You turn on your heel to face him, and you see he’s breathing heavy, brows tightly furrowed, mouth slightly open from the way he was raggedly exhaling in the clear sheer panic rushing through his veins only proven by the guilty look on his face, but there's only the image of another girl's lips on his still present in your memory. It's not the first time you've seen him kiss someone else, but after all this time and everything that’s happened since then, this felt so much worse. If there was one thing about jealousy, it's that it’s enough to make all feelings you have for someone surface in a way that's so overbearingly powerful, so insanely potent and borderline physically debilitating that it makes you feel sick to the stomach, and that's why there's a prick of tears in your eyes when you make eye contact with him. It's a primal, possessive thing ringing in your head when you look at him that just screams mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. You can be pissed off all you want later, but right now you need to get the sensation of another woman’s lips off of him.

Your fists ball the fabric of his shirt, and you pull him to you so hard the momentum has your back slamming into the surface behind you and you kiss him, hard, it's messy, honestly you could've chipped a tooth if he hadn’t braced his hands on the wall behind you before his lips crash onto yours, and his surprise only lasts a hesitant second before he's hungrily kissing you back.

There's just the sound of the two of you exhaling together in feverish unison with the kiss as his hands are quick to cup under your ass and he lifts you up, pressing your clothed heat flush to the front of his groin as his hips pin yours to the wall. Your arms wrap around his neck, skin tickled by the short hair at his undercut, and the moan that escapes you when you wrap your legs around him and feel his bulge pressed against the thin cotton of your panties is muffled by him in harmony with his groan, pure expressions of all the pent-up arousal felt in the way he kisses you like he’s worried it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. 

His teeth nip at your bottom lip, and you gasp before he deepens the kiss, but the prickle of tears in the corners of your eyes when you shut them tight makes you pull away from the kiss completely.

You’re both panting heavily, looking at each other in close proximity under the dark lighting of the closet. You wrap your arms around his neck a little tighter, and you’re not sure if you want his lips on you again or if you don’t want to see him for an entire week. His eyes are dark, low, and set on your lips, which you’re sure are puffed and glossy and look like nothing but pure sex to him right now, and he leans in to kiss you again but you turn your face away from him at the last second and his lips make contact with your cheek instead. He’s confused for a moment, kiss limp as he looks at the side of your face in his periphery before pulling away slightly, and the second kiss he places on your cheek is softer, intentional, an apology, a sorry, a guilt-ridden affection like he knows you’re hurt and it’s killing him. You feel the plush of your cheek squish up to your cheekbone from the gesture, and the feeling has you blinking away tears for some reason. 

“Let-...” you say, catching your breath and tucking your chin under when his lips graze your temple, then your hand pushes him away weakly by his shoulder. “Satoru, let me down.”

An expression of hurt flashes across his face before his palms hesitantly slide down the underside of your thighs until you’re gently eased back onto your feet and you tuck your disheveled hair behind your ears, to gain poise, before you blink a few times then look up at him with so much uncertainty. 

“I don’t know–” he starts, already sounding flustered with panic, “what the fuck happened back there, I don’t even know who that was. I wasn’t trying to– I didn’t– it wasn’t— “

You could finish his sentences for him in your head, but you just watch him trip over his own words. You suppose the fact he was so desperate to vindicate himself to you right now was the only thing keeping you sane from the realization of a truth you’ve been evading this whole time, which was that if you were to date Gojo, you’d constantly be competing for the right to be by his side. Luckily enough, the two of you were graduating soon from all the fraternity & sorority space, but even then, you realize that no matter where he goes, he will always have pretty women that look at him, and want him, and want to be with him, without any regard for anything besides the pure desire to have him, whether he’s taken or not. He’s going to be a pro soccer player someday, with millions of fans, and although he’s never done anything to make you doubt he’d be loyal to you, there’s just no way you could escape the sinking feeling in your chest that tells you you’ll never be the best thing. There will always be a better best thing, and you’ll only have his attention for so long before he finds it. 

“I’m,” you choke out, feeling rawness in your throat that makes it difficult to speak, “I’m not feeling well, I’m just gonna go—”

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him, harsh, your head thwacking against his chest as he wraps his arms around you and you can physically feel your heart ache at the familiarity of his scent surrounding you. 

“I’m sorry. I…I won’t let that happen again. I’ll never talk to another girl ever again. I won’t look at another girl again. Hell, I won’t even exist around other girls ever again, uh, I’ll wear an invisible cloak, a hazmat suit, change my identity, move to a different country, in fact, I don’t even know what other girls are, no clue, seriously. I just—fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say right now, I’m just— I’m just so sorry.”

You purse your lips together, unsure of how you went from being on the verge of tears two seconds ago to trying to stifle laughter from how stupid he sounds, but you wrap your arms around his waist as he continues to spew utter nonsense as he commits to an almost maniacal and impossible level of fidelity to you. Here he was, manwhore of the school, tripping over his words to confess undying loyalty to you like you’re domesticating some wild beast no one’s ever dreamed of conquering from natural habitat. 

“I just want—” you hear him rambling, the rumbling of his words felt on your cheek as you press it against his chest. He wraps his arms around you tighter, and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. “I just want you.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest, and you feel a single tear drip from your eyelashes and soak through the cotton of his shirt, tiny enough to where he doesn’t notice, and you shove your face further into his chest so it stays that way. You wonder if one day you’ll be able to truly believe his words. And you curse yourself for not being brave enough to. 

You two stand in an embrace for a solid ten seconds before the knot in your throat is loose enough to speak. 

“It’s not your fault,” you muffle into his chest, “she kissed you out of nowhere. The bitch.”

You feel him stiffen a little in surprise over your profanity. “Damn. Didn’t believe you when you said you called that girl who elbowed you in the boob at a soccer game a bitch when you were younger, but I kinda believe you now.”

“It’s my favorite cuss word.”

“I can see that. You’re free to call me a bitch any time, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re stupid.”

He tucks your head under his chin in a nuzzle, and you count every beat of his heart. “Are you mad at me?”

You give serious thought to his question. “Mm. No. I’m mad at the girl who kissed you.”

When he only hums above you, you pull your head away and look up at him.

“Seriously. It’s not right. And you’re allowed to be angry about it too,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow at you and tilts his head.

“She’s a random person who kissed you out of nowhere, like you’re just some piece of meat to toy with. It’s wrong. You’re a human being, not an object to lust over.”

His eyes widen slightly, and your heart sinks a little when you see he’s confused and trying to genuinely process your words, like it’s something no one’s ever told him before. Like it’s happened in the past too, and he was never taught to believe that it was wrong, just because he’s attractive and popular, like that somehow meant he’s just supposed to take all the glory with no complaint or preservation of his own person. 

You shift on your feet a little, releasing your hold of him and he releases his embrace of you as well, and from the way he’s darting his eyes across your face and the wall behind you and occasionally towards the ceiling, like you’ve just put some epiphany in his head that’s being processed in the brain behind his rapid blinking, you realize he probably needs a second to process what you’ve just said. You move past him but not without a comforting squeeze of his bicep in the process. There's a sound that leaves his throat, something undecipherable, like he was just filling the air with some response that’s now lost, but for the most part he just watches you leave with those same wide eyes.

You get back out into the courtyard, a slow exhale leaving you as you brace yourself for the eyes of all the onlookers, and though most of them are just curious over the girl that Gojo Satoru just chased after in front of all his frat bros and harem of sorority girls, you can’t help but feel like some of them are judging and hateful and jealous too. But anger beats out all of your emotions of worry or embarrassment, and when you see the girl that kissed him still lingering over at the barbecue station, glaring daggers at you, you match it with a glare of your own. 

You walk up to her, and you see she expects you to say something, like she’s prepared for a cat fight as if it’s all she’s ever known, but instead you just calmly look over her towards the barbecue station, push past her with a harsh bump of your shoulder against hers, knocking her off balance as she gasps offendedly at your choice to ignore her, but that’s exactly what burns people like her the most. The feeling of realizing their fuckassery is insignificant and boring and not even worth the energy of reprimanding. 

One of the frat bros at the grill cautiously hands you a plate of ribs.

“Um. You didn’t use condoms to serve these, right?” you ask as you take it from him.

“N-No,” he stutters, “…why? I-Is that a request?”

“No, no, no. You’re good.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 11]

a/n. hiiiii thank u sm for tuning into another chapter of Edging With Plot!! 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼😍😍😍 (haha just kidding. sorta) hope you enjoyed readinggg n apologies for the wait for this chapter. honestly writing the little scene on the poolhouse couch was a lot of fun tbh i got such young puppy love vibes while writing their dialogue pls guys i think they’re fallng in loooovvee :(( sobs. lil kickoff couple sorry if the chapter ends kinda abruptly haha i am sooooo unbelievably jaded rn after four weeks of traveling i couldn’t think of any other way to end it since the last part was the only scene i had left to write lol. on that note, i will be a little mia next couple days as we’re doing the long haul stretch drive home and i’ll be driving for most of it so :’’) i won’t be able to respond to replies or asks for this chapter right away like i usually am able to but i can’t wait to interact w you all once i’m back home very soon <3 so much love from me as always!! hope you’re all taking care and having a nice summer. remember to stay hydrated :) - ellie 💕

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not ask me for updates or when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

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---

💟

FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS.

꩜ masterlist series!

Synopsis: in which going on a date with a man you met in a grocery store, can end in two ways? Murdered or meeting your future husband.

Pairing: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: kuwtb au. strangers to lovers.

Warnings: js cute fluff honestly, oc and jk being the cutesy babies we all wanted to see, nervous kook, whipped kook, rollercosters, mentions of throwing up, cussing, I love them so much it’s actually sickening.

a/n: when I start crying cs they’re so cute, this is long overdue. I got sick these two past days from my birth control pills at this point ima just use a condom.. yeah I was going through it but here’s my babies being an absolutely cutesy losers. Eunbi and ot7 cameos 💭💭 ignore any mistakes I’ll try and edit them later <3

“I kinda don’t want to go, though,” you groan as you watch your best friend go through your closet, looking for something you should wear. “Why not? You said he was hot,” Eunbi chuckles, going through your crop tops and pulling out the ones she thinks are cute, throwing them onto your bed.

“He is, but like so hot, you know he can ruin your life kinda hot,” you groan, running your hands over your face, rethinking all your life choices on why you said yes to the date with the man you met in a grocery store two weeks ago.

“Did he tell you where he’s taking you?” Eunbi says as she throws a denim skirt on your bed. “No, but he said to wear something casual and no heels at all,” you reply, plugging in your phone and picking up your curling wand before plugging it in. “Think this is cute?” Eunbi holds up a denim skirt and Spiderman crop top. “What if he calls me childish as fuck for wearing a Spiderman shirt?” You raise your eyebrow as Eunbi rolls her eyes at your overthinking.

“Stop overthinking, plus if he doesn’t like your Spiderman shirt, he’s not the one for you,” Eunbi says in a duh tone, which you only nod before picking up your curling wand and start curling your hair.

You were nervous, and it was so noticeable, which made you even more nervous. Jungkook was your type from head to toe. He was so attractive that it literally sent your stomach into a storm full of butterflies, and that was only from text and audio messages you guys had exchanged. He was funny; he had you laughing and smiling like a teenage girl, which was absolutely mind-blowing to you since you never acted like that in the past years since you stopped worrying about relationships and started focusing on your career.

Jungkook was nervous as hell as well. He found himself with his best friends’ girlfriends, asking them what the hell he should do so you would like him. Never in his twenty-one years did he think this day would come. He’d been with plenty of women; by that, he meant he’d slept with plenty of women. He never really stressed about planning a date, nor did he ever stress about what he should wear to give a good impression.

“Guys, she’s the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my entire life,” Jungkook throws his head backwards as his friends laugh at his lost puppy expression. “‘Never wanna fall in love’ my ass,” Jimin mimics Jungkook's voice, making Jungkook's head snap to the side before flipping his best friend off.

“That’s actually so cute, oh my god,” Ari coos, placing her hand on top of her heart. “Baby, you’re falling for the oldest trick in the book, snap out of it,” Taehyung snaps his fingers in front of his girlfriend's face.

“Did you ask her out on a date?” Lora pipes in as she feeds Jiho in her arms. “Yes, I’m taking her to Disney… that’s good, right?” Jungkook looks up from his hands to find his mates' girlfriends with wide smiles and bobbing heads. “Are you sure this is your first time dating?” Lora jokes. Jungkook took that as a yes.

That’s when Jungkook found himself outside your apartment door in a light pink crewneck and light-washed baggy jeans with his Converse, a whole outfit arranged than no other Lora and Ari themselves. His palms were sweaty as he knocked on your door, he stared down at his black Converse, hands in pockets, leaning forward and backward before the door opened.

Jungkook thought he was about to die from how fast his heart was beating. Your hair framed your face beautifully, the Spiderman crop top and skirt almost had his knees giving up on him on the spot.

“Hi,” you say, your heart racing faster than it should be.

“Hi,” he replies back, a wide smile on his face, making his dimple pop up. Yup, you were done for.

“I like your shirt,” Jungkook points to your shirt, mentally hitting himself from how dumb he sounds. “You like Spiderman?” Your interest pipes up, a small giggle eliciting from your lips as you watch the man in front of you nod his head with the goofiest smile.

“I prefer Iron Man though,” Jungkook brings up, which has you nodding in agreement, “who doesn’t prefer Iron Man, duh,” you chuckle before turning your back to him, “Eunbi, I’m going!” You yell into the house.

“Have fun, pookie bear,” Eunbi calls back, just about when you were about to shut the door, another yell comes. “I have her location, don't try any funny business, I will track you down,” the blonde screams from inside the house, making Jungkook burst into a laugh, which you internally do a mental note to tackle Eunbi for that.

“Please ignore her, oh my god,” you shut the door closed as your hot date laughs beside you. “Well, isn't she a bundle of joy?” Jungkook jokes beside you, making you break into a smile.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier, but you look absolutely gorgeous. I was super fucking nervous when you opened the door; I just froze,” Jungkook says, throwing you a small glance, meeting your eyes, which makes your stomach feel warm. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,” you joke, and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.

As you make the way to his car, his hand brushes yours, sending small shocks through your entire body. He opens the door for you, letting you climb into the passenger seat. His car was a little too nice— maybe costing more than your rent.

You look too good in his passenger seat, was what Jungkook thought when he got into the car. It was almost like his passenger seat was designed for you; he felt like he was going crazy at his thoughts of keeping you forever.

“So where are we going?” You tilt your head to the side, and Jungkook presses a button, bringing the car to life. “Cigarettes After Sex” starts playing from the dashboard; you mentally check another one of your boxes with a smile. “It’s a surprise,” Jungkook playfully puffs out his cheeks, widening his eyes, making you smile at his face.

“Are you sure you won’t kidnap me?” You joke, your gaze slowly dropping to his jawline, inspecting every single mole, and the small scar on his cheek— making you wonder where he got it from.

“Wouldn’t even dare after your friend, she sounds like she would put my balls into a vice,” Jungkook jokes, which makes you burst out laughing because he was a little too accurate.

The whole car ride was filled with comfortable chatter; he told you about his family and how the scar on his face was from a vase he dropped when he was a kid and the glass went into his cheek, telling you all about the stitches he had to get. You told him about your favorite book at the moment, which he listened attentively as he drove; he even offered to connect your phone to Bluetooth, which you did, the songs from your playlist filling the car as background noise while both of you talked.

You didn’t even notice you were here already until he turned off the car. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights..” Jungkook bites his lip in amusement as you turn your head, the big Mickey Mouse Ferris Wheel coming into your view.

“Oh my god, you’re taking me to Disney?” You gasp, turning your face to look at the boy who’s already staring at you with a big smile. The excitement bubbled up inside you like fizzy soda.

“Yup, let’s go,” he says, getting out of the car before running to your door and opening it. "I didn't bring my Minnie Mouse ears," you confessed as you took his tattooed hand, extended out for you to hold.

"Don't worry, I got you," Jungkook assured you, his smile warm and reassuring as he helped you out of the car and closed the door behind you.

"They're expensive as fuck though," you remarked, feeling a twinge of guilt because Disneyland tickets are not exactly cheap either.

“I got you,” Jungkook clicks his tongue, extending his hand for you to take. “Okay,” you giggle softly, intertwining your hand into his. “Atta girl, let’s go.” And with that, he pulls you to the main entrance of the park.

“Those look so cute on you,” Jungkook crosses his arms in front of him, smiling as you try on every single possible pair of mouse ears in the tiny booth.

“You said that about all of them!” You playfully roll your eyes, while the lady working chuckles softly beside you both. Jungkook shrugs, “Well, you do. Whichever you choose, you’ll look good in.” He quips casually.

“Should we go with the theme and pick the spiderman ones?” You ask, about to taking off the pink ones before trying on the spiderman ones. “Cute,” Jungkook compliments you, reaching to place a small piece of your hair out of your face before turning to the old lady beside you. “Can I have these two, please?” He pulls out his card and passes it to the smiling lady.

“Of course, dear,” she takes the card as you stand content beside your date who puts on his Monsters Inc blue hat. “How do I look?” He shoots you a wink.

“Cute,” you copy his words with a giggle.

“Here you go, hope you lovely couple have a wonderful evening,” the lady smiles, making you smile back, thanking her and walking away.

“I love this place, people are always so nice, and just kids having fun makes me so happy,” you admit happily, looking around the beautifully designed place. “You love kids?” Jungkook glances down at you, who’s too engrossed in the park to see his admiring gaze.

“I love kids, I'm studying to become a children psychologist,” you exclaim, finally meeting his eyes. “And what exactly do you do?” He smiles at how your face lights up talking about your future career.

“I basically help kids who might be feeling worried, sad, or having trouble in general. I’ll talk and play with children to understand how they're feeling and help them feel better. It's like having a really kind friend who knows a lot about feelings and how to help with them,” you explain, and Jungkook feels his heart almost jump out of his chest and engrave itself onto you. “It sounds like you enjoy that,” he nudges you, to which you nod.

“Yes, I can’t wait to do it,” you grin softly.

“Oh my god, let's get on that!” You gasp, pointing to Cinderella’s teacups, which he laughs at your change of topic and lets you pull him into the line.

“One thing that I hate about amusement parks are the lines,” you state as you stare at the longest line you have seen, which Jungkook nods alongside you. “And that’s why we have fast passes, let’s go,” he says, pulling you into the other line before you could react.

The line was much shorter than the original one, so you found yourself talking about random stuff in the meantime. You told him about your love for dogs and how one day you want to have a Doberman, which he awed at, asking if you would cut his ears, to which you dramatically reacted as if you got shot. The talk about dogs ended when it was your guys' turn to get on the pink teacup.

“If I throw up, would you still wanna go on another date with me?” Jungkook jokes, well more like half jokes. “Of course silly, it'll be our personal storytime to tell and well everyone else here but who cares, right?” you pout, trying to contain a laugh, and Jungkook wanted nothing other than to smash his lips onto yours, but he controlled himself, laughing instead.

The sun started to go down, the bright colorful lanterns giving you and Jungkook's faces a hue of colors. You took your phone out, opening your camera app. “Smile,” you giggle behind the camera as he smiles widely, eyes closed, and you snap multiple pictures.

“My turn,” Jungkook copies your actions, your lips immediately forming into a kiss and your fingers a peace sign beside your face.

It was about to hit nine-thirty, and you and Jungkook sat comfortably on the grass in front of the castle. You munched on your churro, giving Jungkook bites whenever he would ask. Conversation flowed naturally between you both.

“Yeah, it was crazy, Eunbi ended up throwing up everywhere, it was extremely bad,” you cringe at the memory, before taking another bite of your churro. “My friend Ari— who’s one of my best friends' girlfriends,” Jungkook starts, making you giggle at his expression of him mentioning another girl. “You can mention girls, I won’t kill you,” you say before shooting him a serious side eye.

He throws his head back with a laugh from his position on the grass. “I’m kidding, stop! Continue with your story,” you snort, taking another bite of the sugary dessert.

“Okay, okay, so we all went to the bar and she drank so much. Like it was an exaggeration, Taehyung— her boyfriend and my best friend—literally was losing his shit. When we were about to leave, my dumbass was like I'ma ride with them; the worst idea of my life. She threw up everywhere,” Jungkook shakes his head as you laugh beside him, cringing.

“Okay, maybe Eunbi wasn't that bad,” you laugh, handing him the rest of your churro, which he enthusiastically accepts.

You guys sit in comfortable silence as you wait for the firework show to start. Jungkook and you lay on a small blanket he purchased in another tiny store, your breaths syncing with each other as you both stare up at the sky and stars.

“Do you know anything about astronomy?” Jungkook asks you, amusement clear in his voice. “Fuck no,” you laugh, tilting your head to your side, finding the pretty boy beside you more interesting than stars. His face was already turned, his stare pulling your heartstrings in a way that never had happened before in your entire span of life. You almost felt like every noise, every voice from anyone else disappeared into thin air. All you could focus on was his eyes, the small twinkle in them, like he had stars in them— in that moment you wanted to know everything about astronomy if the stars looked like the ones he had twinkling in his eyes.

A loud firework explosion made you jump making you look up, staring at the beautiful colorful fireworks exploding into different shapes. Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off you, he found you more beautiful and interesting than the fireworks he has loved since he was a child.

The drive back home made you both nervous; you found yourself humming to “24/7” by the Neighbourhood which Jungkook immediately joined in.

The car stopped in front of your apartment, and he quickly got out of the car and sprinted to the passenger seat to open the door before you got the chance to. You take his hand again, eliciting small fireworks through your body.

“So..” Jungkook starts in front of your door, which you giggle at his nervous expression. “Did you have fun?” He asks casually, like if he didn’t want to do cartwheels from how anxious and nervous he is at the moment. “I did, so much,” you bite your lower lip, your fingers tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Do you think we can do this again?” Jungkook smiles at you, his dimple getting deeper the more he smiles. “Duh,” you giggle. “Thank god, fuck!” Jungkook chuckles softly, “I’ll call you,” Jungkook says, you nod happily. “Okay, goodnight, sleep well,” he whispers before leaning in, and your heart stopped as he pressed a light feather kiss on your cheek.

You are fucked.

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