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gorejo · 4 months

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▸ manager in public, creampies in private - gojo satoru (hockey player/fwb!)

synopsis: His jinx — fucking the manager behind his coach’s back before every game — has become a rather risky ritual that he’s secretly developed over the years. With you, a regular pattern of his life, Satoru proposes a deal before his final game — the last time he’ll confess, “you wanna fuck me or do wanna date me?”

contents: wc: 15.2k(i am so sorry y'all.... i have no words for this), unedited. fem/afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as "girlfriend," pet names: baby, pretty, (there are so many), satoru calls himself daddy as a joke, locker room sex, fwb!, explicit language, p -> v penetration, creampies, lots of fucking. suguru moved to another uni. cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, teasing, mating press, doggy, gojo can carry the reader because he’s strong like that. little bit of Satoru’s pov..

The stadium is cold the moment you walk in. It’s enough to make your cheeks mildly sting and send shivers down your back, leaving the tip of your nose to feel frozen. From the crisp smell of the rink that’s been brushed out just moments prior, to the vibrant conversations of adults and the cheers from children anticipating the next game, everything tugged for your attention.

At the apex of winter sports, today will mark the champions for the national collegiate tournament for Division I Hockey.

For the normal attendee or avid fan of the sport, being there should be exciting.

But it couldn’t be far more inapplicable for you. A nervous pit coiled inside your gut — a dichotomous force of friction that made your heart thump in anticipation, but your stomach churn in anxiety.

Your mind felt like a fuzz. Guess, it didn't help that your ears also felt plugged, with every sound muffling inside that annoyingly distorted your rational thought — or whatever was left of it.

Stumbling onto the bleachers with your cheeks feeling hot despite the chill that surpassed your skin, your legs felt wobbly while walking over to your designated seat as the beloved team manager; like a broken record, your mind replayed a moment you had not less than an hour prior.

“Control him from doing anything irrational off the courts. That’s your only job today.” the head coach warned before making his way out of the locker room, his thick calloused hand placed on your shoulder, his firm grip a forewarning to not disappoint him.

“Whatever he chooses to do on it, he can go crazy all he wants as long as he brings home the trophy. I don’t care,” Yaga Sensei muttered, lowly chuckling as he hitched up his glasses, “you’re good at your job, make the last one count,” he firmly stated before closing the door behind you.

Of course, that was your job and in no way were you going to fuck things up. Every game was the same: regulate your star player, do damage control for his unhinged actions, and babysit him – the prodigy for the University of Tokyo, from doing anything negative that the press could get their hands on.

Or in simpler terms: control your fuck buddy and do whatever it takes for him to not be so unfiltered — keyword: whatever.

You recalled the week prior, cringing at the aftermath of his actions, with you sowing the repercussions of damaging your almost perfect reputable reputation — a total disaster of an interview, the distress to your migraines you had every game day thereafter from both him and Yaga-sensei.

Granted, conducting an interview post-game wasn’t fun for anyone especially when it was painfully knowing that the reporters were only interested in trying to leach out any information to make a viral post of the handsome center.

His articles sold, and any gossip obtained was always a hit.

His last article went viral — a hot topic of gossip in all outlets of social media, trending not only in Japan but in other countries as the hot man that kicked a reporter, Gojo Satoru, University of Tokyo’s center, and the most infamous, Gojo’s girlfriend. It was of a photo of Satoru midshot, kicking a reporter with his long legs easily reaching to their face with a cheeky smile while his hands were haughtily in his pants with a blurred figure hiding behind his back, nimble fingers grabbing hold of Satoru’s clothes.

Surely, pretty privilege very much exists when more than half of the comments of netizens were:

omg look at his legs! He’s so pretty! That reporter deserved it.

damn, wish I looked that good kicking someone.

He makes me question my sexuality. What a beautiful man.

Definition of looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you.

Don’t worry y’all! That’s me behind him! I’m the girlfriend 😘

SATORU HAS A GIRLFRIEND? I’M SICKKKKKKK

Is it weird to find this hot? I don't condone violence but if it’s Satoru…

“So Gojo-san, what do you foresee as your next plan to defeat your rival player next week? Can we expect some friendly competition?” The reporter asked, intently waiting to type up any information Satoru had to give.

Sludging over the microphone, his voice vacant of any enthusiasm, but instead endowed in annoyance, “If he can keep up, then yea. It’s been over a year since we’ve been on the same court, I don’t keep up with his updates but I’m sure he’s been training on his own. He’s good at what he does.” Satoru tiredly sighed, brushing his bangs over his forehead, while lightly clutching onto the mic stand with his other hand, “Next question.”

And of course, the rather infamous question he gets asked every interview.

“Are you currently dating anyone? I’m sure you have loads of people wanting to date you.” Upon hearing the rather obnoxious giggle of the reporter, Satoru’s jaws clenched with irritation. “Any special plans for the New Year with a certain special someone, specifically maybe the one you were pictured with?”

Getting questions about his private life wasn’t out of the norm and was a regular occurrence. Usually, he’ll flirt with the idea and throw a little bait to the reporters, but particularly on this day, it rubbed Satoru the wrong way.

“What a stupid question, don’t you get tired of asking who I’m fucking?” Satoru numbly responded with life drained from his eyes despite the rather harsh clench of his jaws, “Well, if you’re so dying to know, I’m currently getting rejected on the daily by a rather oblivious person.”

“Any hints as to who —”

“Why?" he scoffed with a brow raised, unfazed, "so you can go harass her for information? Next question.”

“Hello, Gojo-San could you explain about the rumors that are going around about your fallout with Kyoto’s new center?” Another reporter quickly rode off the previous questions.

“What rumors?” Satoru furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue against his teeth, briefly glancing at you off to the side. A fair warning that he was getting uncomfortable.

Talking about his ex-best friend was still a sore spot for Satoru, a breakup without proper closure.

It happened without a notice, a fallout that occurred in the middle of the season during Satoru’s sophomore year, and for a year he’s been silent until he’s made his return with the rival school.

Closing his eyes to calm himself down, fisting his hand as he clenched his teeth, Satoru annoyingly answered back, “We just aren’t on the same team anymore, nothing crazy about that. It’s normal in sports.”

“Well, people are wondering if it’s true that he betrayed you to give the game plays away to his current team.” The man responded, his ignorance seemed bliss, but the malice undertone with the slight tilt of his upper lip told otherwise.

“Betrayed?” Satoru scoffed, the air in the conference room immediately felt cold, irked from the reporter’s nonchalance in picking at his ego, “the only thing getting betrayed is you when your wife sucks my co —”

On instinct, you rushed over to cover his mouth — fucking idiot — and quickly stated through the mic with a routined rueful expression you’ve made one too many times — on behalf of this dumbass.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll conclude this interview from here on! I thank you all for coming.”

While leaving, you quickly glanced at Yaga-sensei’s disappointed expression, his jaws clenched as he watched you both hurriedly make your way to the locker room with Satoru trailing behind with your grip over his wrist.

You were one hundred percent going to get an earful from Sensei.

Gojo dumb fucking Satoru always making your life a complete hell; you were determined to chew his ear off.

“Just wait till we get into the lockers, Satoru” you stated through gritted teeth, your grip on his wrists getting firmer with each step.

“Yea? Ooo I like it when you’re rough with me,” he grinned, the utter audacity of him to take you as a joke, “what are you gonna do to me in the locker rooms?” he gasped, his voice innocent — it’s laughable, really — despite his breath close to your ears with his firm chest right behind you, taunting you to continue with your harmless threats.

It’s cute and makes his cock twitch and quickly pool with blood whenever you’re being dominant — at least when you try to.

Opening the door, you snapped at him while taking a step in, “You’re fucking annoying —”

But things always seemed to take a turn to his advantage — always.

The milliseconds leading to the locker rooms were silent — silence breaking the moment you stepped foot into it with Satoru’s lips rammed to yours, his hands hungry for greater access to your body.

You’re completely caught off guard when his lips come crashing onto yours. The slight grunt of his voice mixed with a hint of a whine when he pushed you against the lockers, your hands naturally landing on his firm chest, easily melting into his grip — a sinful vice he’d been swaying over your head like a pendulum for the past years every time you both snuck around to fuck.

“I fucking tried,” he groaned into the kiss while he rapidly unclothed you. The annoyance that he’d felt a couple of minutes prior all dissipated out and funneled to you. It was apparent in the sheer urgency of his hands ripping off your clothes that his patience was running thin.

“Ngh, S-Satoru!” your chest felt heavy, your mind feeling fuzzy when you met his carnal gaze, “we need to talk —” you’re cut short when his lips latch onto your neck, his hot breath lacing up your skin as he pulled your arms upward and caged your wrists with one hand, while the other traveled down your stomach, straight to your heated core.

“Talk about what? How we fuck?” he moaned at the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being wrapped with his favorite cotton panties — the one he jokingly gifted for being his fuck buddy for a year — where soon he’ll be able to play with your cum coated folds while he fucked you against the mirror walls.

“Oh god,” you huffed in the split moment he pulled away to catch his breath when his fingers started stroking up and down your folds, the tips of his middle and ring finger playing with your tight entrance, “Toru, w-we gotta talk, Yaga-sensei —”

Scoffing out a chuckle, he let go of your lips, his teeth pulling against your lower flesh with his voice deep. He peered down at you with his orbs strictly dilated and dark, “Aren’t you cheeky? Trying to get Sensei involved.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the throbbing pain of your skin feeling sensitive when his calloused finger presses against it, “but you need me to explain to him how we always fuck behind his back?”

His hand traveled down your throat, his long fingers organically wrapping around your neck, a pleasing accessory around your neck, “I’d like that, too, it’s thrilling isn't it?” he taunted, his breath brushing against your heated cheeks, “but I don't think Sensei will particularly like what I say.”

“Y-your teammates ahh! —” You barely could let out a whine when his lips came crashing again, gasping when you felt the suffocated tension of your bra unclasping, exposing your breasts to the damp, cold air, the buttons of your shirt falling to the floor, “t-they’ll hear!” you tried whispering.

“They aren’t coming,” He growled, “ I locked the door,” his tantalizing voice contrasted with the sharp pain of his teeth biting into your shoulder, a dainty string of spit hung from his lips as he continued to paint your skin with his marks, felt all together euphoric.

“But they're more than welcome to listen, we'll give them the hottest free porn.”

You can feel his hardened bulge being pressed against your hips, it was torturous to not cup your hands over his hefty cock. And he knew. He could sense it, feel in the way you pulled back into the kiss, the wanton sounds of your needy breaths pleasantly luring him to want more of you.

“I need you,” he groaned while releasing your wrists and leading them to his member, having your hands hold his throbbing flesh, now painfully pooled with blood, while he aggressively shoved down his athletic shorts, freeing his very erect cock to spring out.

It was a sight to see — his cock freely nodding with pre cum leaking out of the slit, his head flaring a bright red while his veins bulged down his length. You can feel your mouth salivating at the sight of tasting his pebbled release sitting so prettily on his head.

It’s embarrassing how you were so weak to his touch, how desperately you wanted a taste of his release, to ultimately end up being completely stuffed with both his cock and his cum filling you up to the brim that it just had to leak out of your tight hole.

And it doesn’t help how your mind becomes a blank slate the moment his fingers stroke perfect circles around your hardened clit, the sounds of his reciprocated desires to devour you echoed so licentiously through your ears.

And accustomed to, your insides perfectly carved with the shape of his length, your inner walls throbbed, clenched the moment his fingers — one, two, three — slowly stretched out your needy pussy.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” his voice was teasing with a hint of impatience, “good girl," he praised when he feels you innately opening up for him. "show me how much you can suck me in, I wanna feel every inch of you,” Satoru coaxed, “trained this pussy so well, yea?”

Obediently nodding, your arms immediately latch around his neck, pulling him closer to your heated body. And with that, something short circuits in his brain the moment he sees you vulnerably so ready for him.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Satoru purred, the playful glint of his tone was the opposite of the sheer force he had when he quickly propped up your legs under his arms, pushing you further into the locker room as he rammed his cock inside you, your back arching at the sudden penetration — a dichotomy of pleasure and pain as three fingers surely cannot suffice and prepare you for the length and girth of his cock no matter how many times he’s fucked you.

“Hold tight,” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips traveling down to your ears, tauntingly whispering, “I gotta swoon over my manager with a good fuck.”

Aggressively thrusting upward as the tip of his head searched for your sweet spot, your body folded from his strength. It doesn't take him long to find it — gummy and deep — especially when you're trembling and writhing in his grip. "because she just loves my cock, doesn't she?"

“T—toru,” you moaned out, the sweet mating call of his name ringing pleasurable to his ears.

“Who’s my good girl?” cooing as he placed a kiss on your nose, gently smiling despite his cock bullying past your wet, puffy folds, the sharp slapping of his skin meeting your thighs harshly echoing in the empty locker room.

And he swears he saw stars when he hears you.

— “Me.”

Currently shaking off the memory you had a week prior, you had one job: stop that from happening.

Well, that being another disastrous interview session — sex just so happens to come with it… always.

It’s not like you didn’t enjoy his company. It was rather quite the opposite — you craved his touch and longingly wanted to be by his side despite your words stating otherwise.

In short, you’ve been in denial. A secret you’ve upheld since the realization that he’s crept into your heart and took much more space in it than you would like to admit.

Falling in love with the university’s hot shot wasn’t something you’ve planned to do within your academic agenda. Being prompt with your studies, attending clubs, and enjoying time with friends while studying, with the occasional partying, maybe getting a boyfriend here and there, while accruing a job and work experience was part of the plan.

Not, him.

More specifically, loving Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, the pretty boy with an even devilishly handsome cock, that’s won your heart despite being your fuck buddy, was not part of the plan.

It should be a universal law: to never fall in love with your friend with benefit. And if there was a fine for being defiant of such a law, you would be the one prosecuted and trialed for such a wicked crime.

And to no surprise, even today, you were no saint.

Moments before —

“You know?” panting with his arms wrapped around your waists, thrusting upwards while he met your pace as you bounced on his cock.

With sweat dripping down his temple, he sucked onto your perked nipples, groaning when he feels you further tightening around his length — which was already snugly wrapped around him, “we should seriously date,” he frankly stated.

“Shut up,” you groaned, combing through his hair, adjusting your position to move your hips in rhythmic waves, the fire of your thighs making it difficult to withstand this position.

“Why not?” he groaned while pulling you down, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other motioned your continual movements, his firm touch gratifying and making you feel safe despite the vulnerability of fucking in a public space.

“I—I don’t ahh ‘Toru that’s too deep! —” moaning from the hitch of his hips, forcing himself to go even deeper, the tip of his cock teasingly poking at your sweet spot as his girth stretched you out — each motion helping him to bottom out.

Your eyes are brimmed with tears as you hold his hair, pulling against his strands while the other digs into his shoulders, marking up his body — it was so easy for him to make a mess of you in such a short time, and he loved it; absolutely craved for it.

“You let guys that aren’t your boyfriend,” chuckling while he pushed your body down, feeling your juices run down his inner thighs, satisfied at how nicely his cock was soaking in your soft walls, “fuck” thrust “you” thrust “like” thrust “this?”

Despite the rather light tone of his voice, jealousy raged inside him. Because there should be no other answer than —

“No — “ your grasping at his back, using any part of his body to find leverage to mitigate the fullness you were feeling inside your tummy — the red scratches of his back and shoulders remnants of your relationship with him.

“Good,” he praised, gripping your ass with a sly smile teased at the corner of his lips, eventually blossoming into a brazen grin when he intentionally stopped his thrusts just to hear you whine out for him again, “and it should stay that way,” he confidently professed.

Dating Gojo Satoru. That would be nice.

Commitment issues? Sure, guess you can say you had that.

Insecurities? Most definitely so when your so-called partner was The Gojo Satoru — the university's hottest athlete currently in the process of being scouted to play in the professional league.

It felt all too surreal, everything inside of you was filled with him — literally and figuratively. From the way his lightly trimmed, now wet with your cum, hair tickled your clit to the way his cock filled every inch of you in one second only to be languid — slow and easy — pulled out and the next, rammed into you like a pistol releasing its bullet.

He usually took his time before games to fuck you, to enjoy and absorb your godly pussy power — he liked to always add while balls deep inside you with your thighs plastered to your chest, his weight pushing against your body, with the silliest smile despite the rather not so silly act he was doing with you.

A jinx, he liked to argue. A just happened chance of a one-night stand, now leading to years of fucking multiple times a week, under his solid impression that without you, there was no success.

Win after fucking. And a loss without it.

What can you say? Dick was good, but being in his arms felt even better.

It’s a sin. But at this point, did you have any leisure to contemplate if that’s even an option for you to not partake in anymore?

For someone that sleeps with drool coming out of his mouth, to the obnoxious thirst pics he would send only to you with an even more atrocious emoji ‘😜’ with a little ‘heh’ at the end, he sure gave you butterflies in your stomach; his mere presence made you feel good.

Crying and fervently pleading, with broken moans while every crevice of his cock continually carved your insides with his template, “Right there! — fuck ‘Toru, I—Imma cum please!” and he’ll reply with the most greedy moan as he pumped his seeds into your tight hole.

Satoru liked taking his time, but he also lavished under the thrill of a quick fuck. Desperately clinging onto each other, fucked into an absolute mess while he quickly rearranged your guts — that was his favorite.

“Can’t talk anymore?” he smiles. At the same time, he painfully fucks you at a slow pace, “Thought you were going to put me in my place?” cock twitching inside you when he notices how swollen your lips have become and the little squirm you release when you feel him growing within you, “it’s a shame, I like it when you curse at me,” he chuckles.

“Shut up,” you tiredly croaked, “you talk too much.”

“Tired?” he breathed out, looking up with his lips slightly bruised from the feverish kiss you had with him just moments before he chose to open his mouth — the type with tongue with spit drooling down the sides, unafraid to use to teeth to bite and tug.

“Mhm,” you quietly nodded, pulling yourself closer to his body.

“Thought you’d get used to me by now,” he peppered your shoulders with gentle kisses, “you know? by how much I’ve fucked you,” his touch now soft — almost fragile in the way he held you.

“You wanna try getting impaled by this,” clenching on his shaft for emphasis while you relished in his comfort, “and then tell me if you can get used to it too?”

“Relax,” he coached, chuckling as the padding of his fingers gently massaged your hips and eased out at your muscles, “I hear ya, just lean on me a bit.”

The warmth of his skin felt nice. The touch of his hand pressing against your body felt like electricity pulsing through your body while the circuits of your neurons flashingly fired to cause the heat of your core to spark in flames when he pressed tender kisses against your shoulders — one too gentle and comforting for a fuck buddy to be doing.

“You know,” he hummed, “dating me won’t be all too bad.”

“Sure,” you thoughtlessly answered back, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, taking a whiff of his natural scent.

“You like me,” he placed a kiss on your temple, “and I think we’re pretty compatible,” he continued to kiss areas of your face, spending time to adorn every inch, “Sex is good, and I’m hot, so I don’t see why you won’t date me?”

“Who said I liked you?” your useless pride spoke before you registered his confession.

“Rude, who’s the one that won’t let me go in the mornings?” scowling as he lightly flicked your head. “and you mumble when you sleep, you know?” he smirked, the tilt of his lips teasing, his crystal blue eyes half hidden from his lids as he briefly looked down at your swollen lips, “it’s cute, but I would rather have you confess to me when you’re not half asleep.”

“You freak,” pouting as you tried hiding your face, embarrassed that you unknowingly outed yourself yet still chose to proudly reject his confessions.

“How about this,” looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation, “if I make the last point, then you go on one date with me.”

“Is there an option to decline?”

“No,” offended you would say such words, you could practically see every aspect of his demeanor — hair, face, eyes — all simultaneous sulk in unison.

“Then what if you don’t make the last shot?”

“You won’t need to worry about that,” he cheekily smiled, cupping your face to place a soft kiss on your nose before reaching your lips. You can feel his cock starting to harden and twitch, evident from the small hitches of his hips to burrow himself slowly into you.

Leading you into a kiss, pushing you upward to give a little space for him to squeeze his cock inside you, the patience within him to wait for you to slowly sink onto his length again dissipates the moment he hears you tease.

With your mouth gaping open, and eyes tightly shut while your nails dug into his chest, barely managing to garner the strength to go for another round, you always talked so big. “You’re prideful to think one date can win me over.”

“I mean I already have,” shrugging as he leaned back on his elbows, scanning down to see where you’re both connected. it's arousing when he sees your pubic bone perfectly nestled on top of his, “You’re the one that’s sitting on my cock, no?”

“your mouth is the problem, Satoru,” rolling your eyes while you pushed him away, the heat of your cheeks burning up just as the core of your stomach flared up and coiled inside you.

Pulling you back, tilting your chin to meet his wanting eyes, “Hey hey, look at me,” he softly breathed, “I’ll be good to you,” he whispers, “I don’t go fucking around other girls, it’s just been you. I promise.”

“ ‘Toru —” you feel him slightly adjust his hips and in tandem, his cock moves deeper inside.

“Shh… just trust me,” shoving the rest of his shaft fully inside you, clenching his jaws and immediately wrapping his toned arms around your waist. From the sudden suffocating tightness surrounding his size combined with the pleasurable sensation of you writhing in his arms, he knew today was going to be a good game — his career best, at the least.

"I'll prove it to you. I'll win."

"what if —"

And through gritted teeth, while he steadies himself inside you, with each breath he emphasized, the gushing of your wet pussy coating his cock, and the desperate whimpers of your moans sounding so organic and delicate in his ears as he prepared you for another climax,

“Shh... you should know that best, princess. I always finish the job.”

—

Squirming in your seat, heart racing as you watched Satoru belatedly enter the rink, shaking out his white hair before putting on his helmet — droplets of sweat peeking through from his prior rendezvous, the slight bliss on his cheeks blooming with the puff of smoke huffed from his mouth.

Swiftly skating to his teammates to start on warmups, donning a blue and white jersey with white lettering with the number 6, there was a divide of a deep chant of his name coupled with the shrieking enthusiasm of his fangirls whenever he effortlessly made a practice shot. Whenever he slightly even glanced over to the audience, there was a roar of adoration.

“Keep it all in for me, yea?” the source of your migraine chuckled as he held your trembling body. His hands naturally moved to lightly massage your sore hips, the huffs of his solid chest inviting you to breathe and wind down.

In response you reached up to pinch his nipples, groaning from exhaustion, "pervert..."

“it’s my last game, so be nice to me.”

Fucking you till the last minute he could spare, Satoru decided to be cheeky and shoot his cum so deeply inside you. Huffing curses close to your ears as his arms pulled you further down on his cock, nearly piercing you with his length, his member pulsing with every splurt of his seeds pushed into you.

In conclusion, you’re now sitting in your seat, not daring to move for fear that it will spill. He was usually good at cleaning you up, taking his sweet time to kiss your cheeks and brush his bruised lips against your skin as he steadied his breath. But maybe it was from the nervous thrill he had of meeting his once friend, or the pent-up frustration of this past season that’s gotten to him, but one thing for sure was that Satoru came a lot — your wet panties currently pooled and soaked in his cum being proof of it.

“What took you so long, was looking all over for you?” Someone chirped behind you.

Flustered from hearing his voice, you quickly turned around, flinching when you felt a lump of fluid squeeze out of your pussy.

Cheekily smiling as he pulled up his skates while apologetically smiling, “I need my strings fixed… wondering if you had any extra?”

“Haibara-chan…” you forced out a chuckle, trying to shake away the sudden surprise, lightly shaking your head while you took his skates, “I’m starting to wonder…” slowly untying his laces, the cold stadium making it a bit difficult for your fingers to grasp onto the material, “if you’re doing something fishy with these?”

“... That's Gojo-san,” Haibara mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the bench, the clothes of his uniform oddly too big for his growing physique, “It just somehow ends up getting worn out all the time,” the younger man sulked, “I blame Yaga-Sensei for running us so hard during practice.”

“Mhm,” you hummed while searching through the team bag to find a new pair of white laces, “I’m teasing, Haibara-chan,” opening up the fresh pack to string his skates, “just promise me, you won’t be like him.”

“Him?” Haibara curiously asked, cocking his head to the side, his blunt bangs moving with the angle of his head.

Yes, Him — the one who’s currently in a headlock from Yaga-Sensei for completely blowing off the pre-game interviews.

“Ah, guess you’re referring to Gojo-san,” Haibara looked into the field, and took a glance at you, “but you like him, no?”

“Huh?” you felt a sudden pang in your stomach when hearing those words.

“Sorry! I meant like friends!” He raised his hands to rectify the tension from your question, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You’re close to him, right? We've noticed you both spend a lot of time together,” he hummed.

“Ah, yeah… I guess,” you softly answered, barely audible.

“He’s handsome and friendly, awfully a good athlete, and is smart too?” Haibara was practically bouncing on his seat while bragging about his beloved senpai, “There’s practically nothing the man can’t do!”

“Sure… but he’s the most insufferable human I’ve ever met in my life,” you grumbled, slouching in your seat to hide your face from possibly showing any emotion while talking about him.

“Really? Wow, I’m jealous,” he whispered, yet his voice chirped in adoration, “maybe he just really likes you, you know… like how close friends do that to each other! ”

Close friends.

Guess the dynamic of the relationship was of close friends but… not with a good conscience — close friends with benefits.

Despite the nature of your relationship with him, he wasn’t what you imagined. Indeed, you both didn’t start with the most cordial dynamic. You hated him and despised his guts when he “accidentally” stepped on your white shoes while he rushed out of the lockers.

Normally you wouldn’t mind. Accidents happen and you weren’t particularly fussy about those things to care. But when the contender that stepped on your shoes had size twelve feet, a literal giant compared to yours, of course, you’ll get livid — especially when the dirt of his soles made your shoe look gray from one step alone; furthermore, when he didn’t dare to say a simple sorry.

You recall grunting, mumbling curses at the stupidly tall asshole, with an even stupid smirk on his face while cleaning your shoes with a toothbrush during the middle of the night. You slept with the intent to kill him the next morning and make his life a living hell when you’re introduced as the team’s manager.

But guess what, Satoru would always have the upper hand. Before you can even introduce yourself, he’s stiffly walking towards you with a hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head while pushing something in your direction.

“Here,” he stares off to the side as he hands you a shopping bag, “I wasn’t sure what size you wore if it doesn’t fit, you can exchange it.”

“What?” you eyed him, unsure why he was acting so weird.

“Sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” Satoru lamely threw out a pun, hoping the tension would ease out with a small laugh, instead he was met with your unfazed expression.

“tough crowd,” he softly murmured, sighing before leaving the room, “well, the receipt's in the bag if you don’t like it.”

Suspiciously eyeing the bag, you took out the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of shoes that were similar to the ones you wore yesterday before he ruined them, with a little note inside and a rather cute drawing of himself.

‘Hope we can get along. Welcome to the team.’

You felt acid slowly creep its way up your throat, gurgling in your stomach, making it painfully difficult to succumb anymore to this conversation. A stamp of reality that Gojo Satoru may possibly, after this game, become nothing more than a fever dream.

It’s silly, really. And it was even more ridiculous how you pulsed in your seat, longingly wanting that he would win — not for his own success, but for yours.

“Sometimes I wish he would be —”

“Yu and Kento, get your asses over!” Despite being from across the rink, Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed as if he was right next to you, breathing down your ear.

“I think Sensei is calling for you guys,” you interjected, kindly smiling with your eyes as you passed on his skates.

“Oh shit!” His eyes rounded, face paling and body antsy in his seat, “Ahh thank you for stringing these for me.” Bowing multiple times in gratitude as he reached over his skates, “Nanami! We gotta go!”

“Tell Sensei I’m not here.” You could hear his faint voice coming from the corner, his thick jacket covering his whole body with only his laced skates peeping from the bottom.

“I’ll give you five seconds, ” Yaga-Sensei threatened, “or you’re both running laps around the field till you drop tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir!” Haibara immediately stood up, quickly dragging his fellow blonded friend along with him — for someone less enthusiastic about his games and practices, Nanami was always fully dressed for the game.

“Ahh Gojo-san! Look this way!”

“GAHHH! Gojo-senpai is coming here! My phone! I need a picture!”

The shriek of his fans' screams painfully rang in your ears.

The chant of his name gets louder, the shrill becoming overbearing when you notice him skating towards your side of the stadium.

“Don’t you dare come here,” you mouthed, your eyes shooting daggers at the smirk on his face.

You could tell — no, you could feel every inch of your body being observed by the audience, daggers being sent in your direction.

Did he just fucking wink at me?

It was infuriating just how normal he was on the court while you writhed in your seat, having a mental shock whenever you felt a hot gush of viscous fluid drip onto your panties.

Satoru makes a crisp stop in front of you, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. It was comical the way his fans fell to their knees, girls practically foaming at the mouth and guys mentally noting how to up their rizz game like the athlete.

Opening up the side door, he leans against the railing with his elbows resting on the surface, “you good?” he arrogantly asked. Though his words sounded caring, the slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes told otherwise.

“What do you think, Satoru?” You hissed through your teeth despite the friendly smile you gave him.

“Good girl,” he whispered out, just enough for you to hear, “ wouldn’t want you to waste any of it.”

“Gojo Satoru, I swear —”

The stereo briefly shrieks before announcing, “Ladies and Gentleman! Here come the visitors onto the rink! Give them your loudest cheers!”

Immediately you can see his jaw clenching, and the once vibrant color of his cerulean eyes becoming a shade darker as he turned around to face the opposing team. his gaze specifically lands on the team captain — Geto Suguru, Kyoto Spartan’s center.

“Are you going to be okay?” softly placing your hand on his forearm, worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself and act on his emotions.

“Yea,” he turned around half-heartedly chuckling as he looked down at your hand comforting him, only to look up with a smug look on his face, “you worried about your soon-to-be boyfriend?”

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you lightly gripped his arm, the look of your eyes solidified his one of many reasons why he fell for you in the first place.

You were kind. well, kind enough to accept all his bullshit.

“I know, and I am, too.” He calmly reassured with his gloved hand placed over yours, “It’s gonna be a good game, and I gonna make you my girlfriend, so don't fall too hard, okay?” Satoru playfully winked, briefly squeezing your hand before leaving you to join his team, “I’ll be fine, worry about me after the game because I’m going to need it.”

Today would mark the champions for the Mens Division I finals: the Tokyo Trailblazers vs. the Kyoto Spartans.

The final terminus of once childhood best friends, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, now stood on opposite sides to be the final victor. Star players of both universities who played together till two years ago now stand as rivals at the collegiate championships.

“Eyes on the puck at all times,” Yaga-Sensei forewarned, “You’ve practiced with Suguru, and knowing his playstyle should be second nature, by now.” taking a glance at Satoru in his zone, eyes fiercely determined yet his composure was calm, “he’s not in our team, so play aggressive. Don’t ever fall behind Satoru, keep up at his pace and pass when you see the moment.”

“Yes sir,” the team harmoniously responded.

“Yu and Kento, remember to be careful, be vigilant and sharp, especially you, Nanami…” Yaga-Sensei cautioned, the lines of his furrowed brows behind his sunglasses deeply cut into his forehead, “No one else knows your position better than Suguru.”

Sophomore year, summer —

Jinx. noun. An evil spell; a person or thing supposed to bring bad luck.

It all started during your second year of university.

Just like how everything just happens, so does your relationship with Gojo Satoru. It started naturally — or you would like to convince yourself.

You were the team’s manager by title, and Satoru’s freelancing PR manager in private.

“Why the fuck do you always have to make my life miserable!” You hissed at Satoru uncaringly stuffing his clothes from his locker into his bag, “Sensei’s gonna kill me tomorrow,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers and sliding down to the cement floor.

“I think that’s a you problem,” he hummed, taking a glance down at you before he continued to pack his bags, “I told you, I wasn’t going to do that interview, especially after that shitty game.”

“You're doing this on purpose huh?” you numbly asked, the throbbing pain of your head making you feel dizzy, “you’re just a prick that can’t accept a loss.”

“Not exactly,” he nonchalantly responded while closing his locker, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “I just didn’t want to answer the same damn questions I get all the time, that’s all,” he stroked his hair back to expose his forehead before crouching down, leaning on his elbows, manspreading to your level while sitting on the bench, “it’s nothing personal, princess,” he winked.

His face was dangerously close to yours, almost as if he was taunting for something more than just a petty banter — especially in the way he titled his face, making it so easy to just —

“I wanna strangle you sometimes, you know?” you huffed out, glaring at him gloating down at you with the most irritating grin to exist.

Maybe it was the anger that blinded your senses but strangely he looked so fucking handsome, especially in his gray sweats that — you scanned him from top to bottom, and you can almost see the definition of his crotch through the lining. he was big.

You can almost bet the pink of his lips was so soft to touch, and plush to suck — what the fuck were you thinking.

Smirking when he caught your gaze on his lips for a second too long, he drew even closer. reaching down to grab your wrists to grip around the collar of his shirt, licking his lips while he challenged, “It’s your lucky day, Princess. Try me.”

Starting is always the hardest, the rest is easy.

you wanted to kiss him, badly. clenching onto his shirt with a million thoughts spiraling through your head, mentally cursing him with every possible word you knew. Everything soon became quiet the second your eyes zoomed in on him licking his lips — it was absolutely perfect — glossy with a perfect shade of pink that seduced you into agony.

So without thinking, your lips go crashing onto his. The harsh breathing through your nose sounds impatient and gruff. Kissing him, with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, Satoru immediately reciprocated by pulling you up to his firm lap.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you,” he panted in between kisses while his hand sneakingly ventured under your clothes to unclasp your bra and while the other pushed its way into your pants, harshly groping onto your soft ass.

Despite the tease in his voice, the quick speed of his hands curiously touching every inch of your body, groping and clawing, showed otherwise but leisure.

“you started it,” groaning as you threw your head back, allowing his lips to peck kisses on your skin and for his tongue to trace up to your chin.

“You’re so honest when you’re needy,” he chuckles, “practically fucking me with your eyes.” Satoru always had a way with his words. He always irritatingly managed to get under your skin, as if he had an encyclopedia written on how to annoy you, he was practically an expert at it by now.

Normally you would scoff at his ego, and throw in curses just for some flavor. But you fell silent, pussy suddenly clenching on the air when you took a peek at Satoru, easily pulling off his shirt with one hand. His warm body was draped in a perfect muscle tone while he molded your breasts to his palm, his mouth sucking on your nipple, tongue tenderly swirling around your areola.

“ngh shut up!” you rasped, “you’re so full of yourself.”

“Hmm,” he sounded pretty humming in response. Using his lips as a decoy to distract where his fingers were trekking towards, he pulled your panties off to the side to slip his slender fingers to touch your pussy — throbbing, warm, and laughably wet.

“let’s see,” groaning when he feels the warmth of your core, and your viscous juice coat his fingers. He swears that’s enough for him to cum in his pants but with all the willpower he had, he didn't — he couldn't until he's at least fucked you a couple rounds and has gotten a taste of your pussy — he lowly chuckled, “where you’re weak, princess.”

you gasped out a quiet, “fuck mhm, right there ‘Toru — j-just like that — please,” while tugging onto his hair, the hiss through his teeth sounding so melodic to your ears.

With your fingers harshly entangled in his hair, you tried to register how this all happened. Your clothes were one by one thrown onto the cold floor, with Satoru now shirtless as he littered your bosom with tender kisses, holding you behind your curved waist while you pressed your chest further into his mouth, to feel the gratification of his warm tongue sucking on your nipple.

As his fingers stroked up and down your folds, the lewd noises of your erection squelched loudly while his mildly calloused fingers rendered pleasurable friction to your clit — a new, profound sensation you’ve never felt before, especially not with your fingers or even your most reliable toys.

And it felt good — so fucking good.

“you’re so soft,” he pulled out a groan deep in his throat, “hold onto me,” he ordered, his tongue trailing up your chest while he switched positions to have you lie on the bench.

Quickly pulling out his hand from touching your cunt, to strip you from your pants and throw them off to the side, he smirks when he hears a subtle whine subconsciously release.

“No — ’Toru please —”

That's all he needs to hear. Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs and meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he can see it through your damp panties. He almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. call you out on your ego, but the ache that shoots down to his cock, painfully throbbing in his briefs, banging to be freed, reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself — probably worse and much more needy, desperately wanting, than you can imagine.

“I got you,” he huffed, pressing a tender kiss on your knees before spreading out your legs to settle in between them, his eyes soaking up every inch of your pussy to have it practically memorized, “I just wanna see you a bit.”

Pulling up your panties and seeing your puffy folds perfectly enveloping the fabric made his cock twitch, forcing his hips to push his hardened bulge against your needy core while a tantalizing, static pulse ripped through his body.

The thick padding of his finger pushes against your flesh. And if there was a pageant for the prettiest cunt, Satoru was goddamn sure you would win. especially with how your pussy softly recoiled every time he poked your wet flesh, simultaneously eliciting an even prettier, desperate moan.

“god you’re fucking wet,” Satoru purred as he played with just how thick your juices strung onto his fingers, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he delightfully praised under a solemn breath.

“Satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most.

So what better way is there than to play his own game — to tease and have him be the one yearning, begging at his feet.

“Yea?” gaining a bit of your conscience to lean your weight on your elbows, instead of needly lying on the bench, expecting Satoru to do something — anything, fast, “you’ve seen other pussies? Thought you were a virgin,” you teased while looking down at Satoru, pushing his bangs away from his eyes — his white hair a mess, cheeks heated and eyes dark and dilated.

but, it’s his game. no one knows the rules better than he does.

So instead of your expected reaction, Satoru chuckles, and takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, blowing air while he watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing. your hole pulsates in desire as arousal drips and leaves you into a burning mess.

It’s perfect—you’re perfect, everything about you is what he’s dreamed of — no, it’s better, far better than what he's fucked his fist to all this time.

“Cute, you think so highly of me,” he snorted, unfazed by your mockery, eyes still focused on your pussy, “but you can see for yourself —” Satoru fastly pulled you down, causing you to yelp in shock at how strong he was. his face was now dangerously close to your leaking core, fingers delicately spreading out your folds, to uncurtain your pulsing hole and clit, contently smiling in adoration.

“—if I’m a virgin or not.”

“do you even know where the cli— oh my god,” you sobbed, the heaves of your chest becoming greater the moment you feel Satoru suck on your hardened bud, the plush of your thighs pushing against his head, curving your back as you pulled onto his hair, breathless from how he, too, was desperately eating you out.

it’s jaw dropping hot when his veins bulge and Adam’s apple bob while he gulps down thick saliva mixed with your sweet cum down his dry throat, his palm presses down your stomach to keep you pinned from squirming away.

he hears you and feels that you want him to. so he works, he works till his forearms burn and his biceps beautifully flex every time he fucks his finger into you, completely stretching you out, expertly adding more of his fingers to see your tight rim around his fingers clench in needy desire.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum. Perfectly in tandem with the pressure of his mouth sucking your clit, to the rhythm of his finger inching deep within to find your sweet spots, guess, it’s not a surprise it takes him less than two minutes to locate it and another minute for you to be gushing. Quivering in his reign, the pleasure overwhelming as you came in his mouth— it’s almost painful how euphoric it felt.

Sucking and lapping every last bit of you while steadily pulsing his fingers in and out as you slowly came down from your climax, it wouldn’t be Gojo Satoru if he didn’t get the last word.

Letting go of your abused pussy with a soft kiss to your clit, his lips down to his chin were drenched, glistening, and dripping with your cum.

“You were saying?” he grinned.

Two hours thereafter, that day, Gojo Satoru performed a career-high of scoring seven goals.

Day of finals, thirty seconds till the game starts —

“Nanami,” throwing his arm around his Kohai, "I always knew you would be most fitting for this position,” a gentle voice welcomed himself.

“Geto-san,” Nanami's voice was emotionless, “you’re more than welcome to come and take it back,” the junior sarcastically jibed.

“Me? Don’t know if Satoru —”

“Get away from him, Suguru,” Tokyo’s team captain cut the rival off, “the game’s about to start, Nanami.”

Suguru shrugs while Nanami swiftly strides to his position as right-wing, carefully watching the scene behind Gojo’s back.

“Satoru!” The raven-haired now standing in front of Tokyo’s center amicably called out, eyes forming a crescent behind the thick black and white helmet, “long time no see.”

Satoru was straight to the point, desperate, “why’d you leave…?”

“No hello? My… Satoru,” the other chuckled while he comfortably situated his stick, next to the puck while both teams waited for the starting bell to ring, “where have your manners gone.”

“are those rumors true?” Satoru asked while lowering his stance, preparing himself to get the first puck to start the game.

“The rumors?” Suguru questioned, a slight twitch of his lips giving away his faux innocence, “Oh —” scoffing while reciprocating Satoru’s actions, “Ahh, the one about me being a traitor?”

“Suguru, I know you. Tell me the tru —”

A loud buzz echoes in the stadium, Satoru’s words falling blank under the blaring cheers of the fans.

“Taking the lead —” the announcer reported live through the blaring amplifier.

“Guess, we’ll both have to see how much you know me, Satoru,” Suguru swiftly stated in the milliseconds of passing Satoru, speedily making his way for the opponent’s goal.

“— ladies and gentleman, has the Tokyo Trailblazers finally found their match? The Kyoto Spartans will take the lead with player Geto Suguru setting the pace!”

The second period, five minutes till the buzzer for intermission —

Tokyo (3): Kyoto (3)

Grunting as he pushed his way through the defense, despite the chaos of the stadium, he could hear the familiar crisp sound of skates closely behind him, “I heard you’re finally sleeping with her,” Suguru smirked, now skating parallel to Satoru.

“Shut the fuck up,” Satoru grunted, making every effort to keep pushing for the offense, expertly navigating through the rink while juggling the puck past the opposing team, quickly passing the biscuit to Nanami, “it’s none of your damn business,” Satoru hissed out.

“You're scared that she might not like you? ” Suguru breathed behind his ear, “when that’s all you’ve been painfully doing till now?”

Wrong, Suguru couldn’t be more far from it.

Because since the beginning, for him, noncontingent of your response to him, it’s always been you.

And outside being the gifted athlete who’s endowed with greatness, with you, Satoru had two personas.

the one that desperately fucked you.

Crashing into the lockers, the impact of your back being further pushed onto the cold medal sent shivers down your body with every desperate thrust of his cock into you. It was awfully dangerous to moan out of his name, let alone to even breathe when his teammates were just outside the door.

“Shh, be a good girl,” he grunts while slowly fucking his cock out of you, only to ram it back in with even greater force, while his hand simultaneously covers your mouth, “don’t want people to hear you getting fucked, do we?”

Muffling your moans with his palm, his cock relentlessly pistols in without any leisure to be accommodating to your aching core. His breathing becomes more hitched as his thrusts become more languid to press deeper — his length reaching as far in as it can go — it would be an understatement if you weren’t scared that he could practically rip you in half in this position.

You grab him. and your nails dig deeply into his back, marking his skin with angry scratches of crimson red. maybe he was a masochist, but the pain of your nails coloring his back was nothing compared to the pleasurable satisfaction he got when your gummy walls suffocated his cock.

Kicking out his teammates, only to fuck behind their backs as they cluelessly started on their warmups before a game was routine.

He’s memorized every inch of your body, studied where it makes you writhe, tremble, and immediately latch onto him for your dear life while he helps you reach your high.

And right now, he knew. He can feel it in the way you’re clenching down on him that you were close. Not that he had any idle leisure of his own, but just enough to pump his cock feverishly into you, bullying past your abused hole as he lavished in the melodic symphony of his balls slapping against your cunt.

He has you folded against the wall, his arms holding you up and hitched under your thighs while he mercilessly fucked you. The burning in his muscles and the strain he felt in his body was nothing comparable to the heaven he was experiencing with your powerless stance under him while his hips snapped forward, his cock dominating your insides with his hand covered in your drool.

“—Toru please” you tried yelling, only for your voice to fall faint each time he rutted inside you, his cock completely disappearing in your body only to magically reappear to stretch you out again and burrow its length deeply within.

“angel,” he taunted, his breath fanning against your heated face, causing your eyes to swell up in tears when your eyes linked with his, briefly opening up his hand to allow you to breathe, “you gonna be quiet?”

You softly nodded, your insides clenching to stop the weird pressure that was building up inside, “it feels weird here, Toru — ahh it’s too much!” you whimpered, touching your tummy while your body ricocheted from his force.

“Yea? Then cum for me princess, I know you’re close,” he growls into your ear, his hot breath making it even more difficult to breathe, “you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well,” he praised, groaning when he immediately felt you throbbing around him in response.

The moment you see stars and your mind fall blank is when thick ropes of cum shoot inside you. you can almost feel the individual splurge of his hot seeds coating your walls, with every desperate thrust he made to completely milk out his cock, his tip throbbing while he grunted with pleasure.

“I fucking love —” he rasped out, face nuzzled into the cave of your neck. it was difficult to mesh out his last word from his harsh panting to catch his breath as he felt the lumps of his cum squeeze past his member, still inside you, splattering onto the floor with a warm trail of liquid gushing down his thighs.

“good luck today,” you whispered.

Luck? he didn't need.

But you? he absolutely, detrimentally did.

Or, the latter.

The one that, still, fucked you — because he loved you, like a lover.

With the days that surpassed as being his friend — with benefit — the more he’s taken a place in your life. It started with freely coming over after practice — fucking, despite not having a game the day after. Your bathrooms would naturally have another towel hung, and an extra toothbrush would stand next to each other.

Groceries were always Satoru’s duty, while you stocked up on the self-care necessities. Satoru particularly loved getting a facial with you with all the high-end masks and oils, cuddling under the blanket while you both watched cringy romcoms.

But it was undeniably his personal favorite when he could give you a facial with his cum splattered onto your face — it’s beautiful seeing you covered with his seeds. Or when his face is drenched in your sweet juice, despite his lungs desperate for air he immediately pushes you further down to sit on his face when he catches you trying to move away.

It’s become a ritual. you've become his religion.

He comes at exactly 8:47 P.M. And you wait for him.

The key to your door opens at the exact time.

He grins when you walk up to greet him.

“Waited for me?” he softly cooed, placing his index finger under your chin, his lips onto yours while sucking gently before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you both, but quickly snapping when he brushes his thumb across your cheeks.

If the universe orbited around you, he was your centripetal force.

“So pretty,” he praised while looking into your eyes, breathless as if he could be absorbed into it.

“I have food —”

"Later,” he abruptly cuts you off, pulling you close to his body, ”but, I think —” humming with his lips barely brushing against your cheeks, his hand squishing them together as he confesses.

“— I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” his voice was unusually sweet for saying something so crude, “that you won't even be able to see out of those pretty little things."

You softly gasped, flustered and unsure of how to respond to such a comment. Instead, you roll your eyes as your hands find the back of his head to pull him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

His hands roam around your body, particularly groping your ass before his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts — his favorite ones that always managed to get him bricked up.

"No panties, huh?" He states with amusement, "Aren’t you a bad kitty acting all coy,” he chuckles.

"Shut up," you retort, your cheeks feeling hot under the pressure.

“You don’t want it?” he rebuttals, taking a step back as if there was even a choice.

It’s infuriating how much power he had over you, enticing you in his grip as you mindlessly frolicked in his palm. And it doesn’t help that he looks… well… he looks gorgeous, dangerously handsome — especially with his hair mildly wet, and his warm body fragrant with cologne and body wash.

“I said,” wrapping your arms around him, further pulling him by the neck — so close that you can feel the tent that’s bulging under his sweats and the desperation that overflows in his visage while he angles his lips to perfectly match yours, “fuck me.”

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs before kissing you — it’s feverish and wanton, the type that makes you weak in your knees and your core to burn up in flames.

His steps immediately guide you to your bedroom, groaning and grunting while clothes are being stripped off one by one, leaving a trail of evidence with no intent of stopping the kiss.

Your feet knock against the foot of the bed, his signal to push you onto the mattress, abruptly ending the kiss as he looks down at your flustered expression with a smirk on his lips.

Relishing in your gaze, Satoru strips in front of you. Pulling his shirt over his shoulders with one hand, he flexes his stomach and takes his time to get naked.

He knows you'll look — you always do. Outside of being an athlete, what was the purpose of hitting the gym? To catch you lusting after him. He can practically see your mind racing with thoughts, and he couldn't wait to show that he's better than what your silly, pretty, little brain could ever imagine him doing to you.

Examining him from top to bottom, propped up on your elbows, you absorbed the sight of his smooth, toned chest as he stripped, the dentures of his muscles beautifully sculpted down from his chest to the crisp lining of hip dents that led to his crotch.

Leaning over, his body caging you with his toned arms, he gently places a kiss on your forehead, “like what you see?” he chuckles, “I’m pretty sexy, right?”.

"what the fuck?" you suddenly gasped.

“what?!” he whines — you can see his hair practically deflate.

Brushing your fingers over his chest, running your hand down to his abs, it’s smooth and toned. “thought your nipples would be pink,” you snorted, pinching his nipples.

He flinches at the pain, "it’s a brownish pink, for your information," He states, pouting, “and you’ve only noticed it now after how many times you’ve seen me naked?”

"I’m joking, stupid," You laughed, the melodic tune of your joy ringing in his ears like a constant melody.

“but I’m pretty right?” he pouts, biting your shoulders and softly kissing his denture marks.

“Yea sure whatever,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he now kisses up your neck, your heart just about to burst out of your chest.

"Let's get this off, hm?" Satoru kindly asks while tugging on the bra strap.

Obediently nodding, you raise your arms like a kid, and he pulls it off over your head. And unlike the trail of clothes you’ve both left behind, he manages your garment with care — especially after the last one he “accidentally” ripped.

His hands rest on your stomach, fingers stroking every curve before he brings them up to cup your boobs, pushing up your breast to squish it softly.

“Feel good?” he asks, watching your expression slowly unfold in bliss.

And before you know it, he's dragged his hands down to your thigh, his fingertips softly grazing slowly to your panties, getting dangerously close to womanhood.

"Tell me how much you want me to touch you," He whispers, and in response you shove your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly.

The light callous of his fingertips trail over your clothed clit, gently stroking the base with his fingers, feeling your panties slowly becoming more damp with each touch.

Further opening up your legs, allowing him full access, he immediately takes the offer and ventures further along. situating himself in between your thighs to pull your panties off, kissing your hardened bud while peering up to see you touching your breasts, it’s a sweet sight to see for Satoru — breathless — while you longingly waited for him to just hurry the fuck up.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “That’s fuckin’ cute.”

"Right there-" you whisper, and he nods, dragging his fingers along, slowly moving them around to stimulate you as he sucked on your clit, taking his time to prep you

“You still didn’t —” The vibration of his voice further stimulates your needy pussy, gasping as you curve your back, desperately reaching for more of his perfect stimuli, “answer my question,” he states.

"Don't piss me off," you groan, pushing his face back into its rightful place.

"Goddamn," He mutters, the grip of his hand on your thighs becoming harsher, and the stuck of his mouth further fueled fire to your core.

"I don't know how much longer I can wait when you treat me like that," he grunts while standing up again, simultaneously pushing down his pants and briefs, wasting no time as he wiggles out of his sweats.

You can see his dick is hard, twitching as it greets you.

He exhales heavily, stroking his length as he situates his head to brush over your pussy. He’s seen it countless times, but will never get enough of measuring just how far he can settle inside you. The sweet plush of your tummy offers more cushion and excitement as he watches you hitch up your hips, impatiently waiting for him.

"aren't you excited?" Gojo says with a grin, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, guiding himself past your folds, purposefully missing your entrance to coat himself with your natural lubricant.

He doesn’t even wait for your answer, and wastes no time pushing himself in, pulling out a whimpered groan, allowing your walls to open up and welcome his entrance.

He picks up his pace, rhythmic and balanced while sliding his hands under your hips to lift you up slightly to make sure his entire length can fit inside.

"You're so tight.” Satoru grunts with a furrow in his brows as he dug his nails into your ass. hissing through his teeth while he continued to fuck through your tight hole, “You don't make this easy for me, do you?" He mocks, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you forward, your naked breasts bouncing with every impact.

You close your eyes, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. The slight tickle of his trimmed pubic hair brush against your clit as he slowly starts to roll his hips.

"You're so —" You whined, concentrating on keeping your sanity every time his tip painfully brushed back your sweet spot, "ngh — lazy!"

"Lazy, huh?" he scoffed, licking his lips like a predator locked in on his prey.

“ahh!” you yelped. within seconds you immediately find yourself on your stomach with Satoru’s weight crushing you from above. flipping you over without notice, wrapping a hand under your jaw as he turned your face towards him to deeply kiss, his feet harshly spreading and locking your thighs apart while his cock rammed into you, his balls splattering your wetness with each thrust.

"Maybe I won’t be so lazy if you become my girlfriend,” He states with a smirk, “just give in angel, you like my cock.”

“fuck — ‘Toru! slow d-down” you managed to cry out his name, his cock mercilessly thrusting into you, “you have n-no,” by now you were a babbling mess at how good he was fucking you, drooling with your lungs burning inside your ribs, “game tomorrow.”

“boo you’re boring,” He provokes, pushing his hand under your stomach to pull you on all fours, “never answering my questions.“

It doesn't take long for Gojo to adjust himself behind you. especially since your dripping cunt made it so for him to slide through every time. but it takes moments for you to readjust to him — every new position meant greater access for his cock to rearrange your insides.

“but this pussy will always be my good luck charm.”

It's almost as if you can feel his smirk as he grabs your hips, and begins to roughly pound into you in doggy.

"Look who’s lazy, c'mon, keep hips up, angel," He effortlessly teases, spanking your ass and firmly gripping onto the pulsing flesh.

"S-shut up, asshole,” you hissed, putting your head down on your arms for more leverage — it’s shocking how you’re not flying onto your headboard from the force of him thrusting into you.

"That's rich considering your asshole is right in front of me.” he chuckles, spreading open your cheeks to see your other hole pulsing on top of the one he was currently fucking, the rim barely withholding his girth, “ wanna try anal? it’s pretty, by the way."

"D-do you ever shut up?" You complain, reaching over to grab your pillow to muffle your moans. but in that split second, Satoru catches your wrists and pulls you backward, your back heavily arching and breasts rapidly bouncing in all directions, mimicking the robust thrusts of his cock pistoling into you.

“how can I, when you look so pretty,” his thrusts become more aggressive, “getting” thrust, he watches you crumble, face contorting in pleasure, he can tell you’re close, “fucked? thrust “by” he quickly catches your hand trying to reach down to stimulate your clit, “my” deeply pushing in, further splitting you open in half, the tip of his member knocking against womb, “cock.”

“too much…ahhh—wait! ‘Toru!” The bed violently shook as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs trembled with warm liquid dripping down from your thighs, slowly pooling onto the sheets.

“just say it, princess, you love me,” he growls, thrusting more as he nibbles on your lobes, pleasurable tears sliding down your cheeks as you instead gasp out his name.

“at least your pussy is honest.”

---

“I’m not here to talk, Suguru, get the fuck out of my way,” Satoru growled while pushing the other off.

“Don’t tell me, you still got no pussy to ask her out, Satoru,” the raven hair taunted.

“Nanami!” Satoru called out noticing his wing’s position wide open to shoot for a goal. It was apparent in the way Satoru briefly lost his balance, his composure starting to chip away from the strain of his muscles that he was getting exhausted — a feat Satoru would normally never struggle with until the last couple minutes of the game.

But speedily passing by and braking with thick shaving of ice spraying from the sudden stop, intercepting the puck when Nanami passes — a gameplay Suguru’s practiced countless times with Satoru — the Kyoto’s center was now in possession of the puck, taking no moment to rest before charging the opposite direction.

In those split seconds, Suguru jeered, “wasn't this our favorite play?”

“Fuck!” Satoru muttered under his breath, quickly changing momentum to skate the opposite way.

And just before the buzzer goes off, Suguru easily angles his stick to chip the puck, the force of the impact causing the biscuit to shoot straight into the net.

Satoru huffs just meters away, dumbfounded at how much Suguru’s improved and curated his craft. A force he once relied upon and leaned on, trained tooth and nail while shedding blood, sweat, and tears together since fourteen now has become a thorn to his side that contrived to bring him down, Suguru bypasses his once best friend, standing in shock.

“are you still in denial, or have I answered your question about who’s the traitor, Satoru?”

Tokyo (4): Kyoto (5)

Intermission before the third, final period —

A tie (6:6)

It was the longest eighteen minutes of your life. no one dared to even speak. Through the chatter and vibrancy of the stadium, only the heavy huffs and gulping of electrolytes of the players were heard. Even Yaga-Sensei just sat there, brows furrowed with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

And Satoru, too, silently sat on the bench, leaning on his elbows parched to his thighs, manspreading with a towel thrown over his head. The heat of his body contrasted with the gelid stadium had faint white smoke radiating from his expended body.

“Satoru,” you gently called out while handing out a fresh towel for him to use, “you’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t need it,” he dully murmured without taking a second to raise his head to acknowledge you.

“I —,” Yaga Sensei grasped hold of your shoulder to stop you from saying anything regretful that would further disturb him. Biting your tongue, you sighed, “Sure.”

The cold response of someone who literally just rearranged your guts so wantonly before the game, sharing an intimacy with him throughout the years that bloomed into something more than what you’d like to acknowledge than simply being a friend with benefit caused both frustration and helplessness to boil within you for not being unable to help him.

Not like he needed your help, nor did he ever ask. But from time to time, you wished he would let down his burdens with you, and allow you to carry his weight for a while.

Only once has he ever shown you his emotional side. The infamous night when Satoru received the news of Suguru’s departure, you found him drunk in front of your apartment waiting for god knows how long.

all you could remember was that the night was awfully cold for someone to have a broken heart.

That night, despite no words being said, the comfort of your arms and the warmth of your skin helped him to sleep despite the storm that raged in his mind.

It was understandable his mood. Normally he wouldn’t be so emotionally invested in a game, even if he had lost. During intermissions, he would either be chatting up a storm, blowing your ear off about all the plays he’s made and if you’ve finally fallen in love with him. Or, two, he’ll be listening to you nagging at him to not go throwing his opponents against the wall while wrestling for the puck.

Hockey was aggressive, but it was also an athlete’s duty to learn how to play smart and do their best to abstain from injuries that could potentially harm their career — especially, if the athlete in question is one preparing for his national debut to representing Japan in the Winter Olympics the following year.

Awkwardly, eyeing your expression, Haibara laughed while scratching the back of his head, cheerfully asking, “I would like a new one, mine’s a little damp.”

“Me too,” his blonded friend chimed in, his voice not as enthusiastic as Haibara’s.

Smiling in appreciation, you lent them a towel and extended the care to the other players as well.

“Why’d you give him the steal?” Sensei bluntly asked, looking at the rink while sternly watching Suguru make his way onto the field. His ex-disciple gave his old coach his respects with a little bow when he caught his gaze.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Satoru numbly stated, the clenching of his fists reflecting his true emotions.

“You know what to do,” Yaga-Sensei firmly stated, pushing his sunglasses up his thick nose, wasting no time before the buzzer rang again to redirect his player, “you know him better than anyone else, trust your instincts.”

Twelve minutes till game —

The crowd roars. Currently in the last period, with a couple more minutes on the clock to crown the final winner, both teams ferociously fought to control the game.

The pluck clicks with each hit against the blade. Speedily sliding against the ice it was almost difficult to see it on the field.

Currently, in possession, Nanami pushed forward, putting pressure on Kyoto’s defense as Haibara simultaneously rushed to the other side, leaving Satoru wide open for a pass. Nanami prepares to hit a pass over to his captain, hitching the puck in the air for a quicker velocity towards Satoru, who’s ready to receive —

The glass walls tremble on impact. Flinching at the loud noise, your eyes widen when you see it unfold in slow motion. Both bodies harshly collided against the wall with Satoru getting sandwiched between two forces. expelling out a groan as he slid down the wall, with puffs of white smoke spewing from his lips with each harsh huff of his chest.

“Seems like a brawl has occurred between the two captains!”

“And from the looks of it, Gojo Satoru is struggling to get back on his feet!”

“No,” you muttered under your breath, face paling and body going cold despite the adrenaline pumping through your blood, you pushed your way through the audience to get to where he was.

Your mind felt like a minefield. With bombs ticking, threatening to explode with each step you took. Nauseous from the anxiety, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as if there was a ball stuck in your throat. And despite the efforts to try and stay calm, it was rather difficult when your thoughts replayed the countless other injuries Satoru sustained during your time as his manager.

“He’s going to have to take at least 8 to 10 weeks off for his fracture to heal.” The emergency physician stated, pointing at the small crack on his right clavicle.

“He probably won’t listen,” Sensei remarked, crossing his arms while letting out a deep sigh, “is there any way he can recover faster?”

“It’s fine guys —” Satoru tried playing it off.

“Shut up,” you and Sensei simultaneously interjected, scolding him to be quiet as if he were a child.

Clearing his throat, “As I was saying, it must’ve been painful for him to have played in this state, I imagine this was an ongoing injury he’s sustained in the past,” the doctor murmured while further analyzing the film.

You immediately shot daggers at him, glaring when the doctor unintentionally outed Satoru’s injury he’s been keeping a secret. Flinching, Satoru slowly sank further into his bed, covering his face with his blanket.

“Though, being diligent with his PT and fully resting his body for at least six weeks will be the fastest route for recovery.”

But, well… it doesn’t take more than five weeks for you to get a text from Suguru.

From: Suguru

Don’t get mad…

To: Suguru

You saying this makes me already mad. What happened?

From: Suguru

Just bring some icepacks and some sweets and head over to Satoru’s place.

To: Suguru

I swear to god if you guys play —

From: Suguru

... it's his fault.

And it doesn’t take you more than thirty minutes to be blowing up his doorbell, knocking on his door at exactly 12:34 A.M. with an ice cooler with icepacks and a bag full of his favorite candy.

Thud!

“Fuck… ow that hurt.” You heard a muffled voice through the door.

“It’s me.” You curtly announced.

Quickly opening the door, his elbow leaning against the door with an insouciant tone to his voice, he cracked a boyish smile, “Ah, isn’t this my favorite person. What brings you here?”

“I told you not to —” Rage bubbled up inside you as you glared at him.

“Okay!” Nervously holding up his hands, doing his best to calm you down, “before you get mad —”

“I’m already mad, Satoru —”

“Okay! Fine! Before you get even madder,” taking the heavy loads off your shoulders, settling them onto the floor, his warm hands cup your face, “it’s really nothing big. Just feels a little strained that’s all,” he tried to reassure when he sees you about to object.

“Really, I’m fine,” his eyes urged you to trust him, “I just… missed being on the rink, that’s all.”

Your eyes soften when you see the little sulk on his lip, and notice how he’s lost a little weight in his cheeks. Quickly letting out a deep sigh through your nose, you mumbled out, “I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not.”

---

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, firmly holding onto the hem of his white shirt while saddling on his thighs.

“Oh wow.” he placed his hands on his chest, acting innocent from your forwardness.

“Satoru, take your shirt off,” you grumbled, pulling at his shirt and rolling your eyes when it was easily removed, despite him acting naive, again his hands covered his bare chest — just managing to barely cover his sculpted pectorals.

“It’s really nothing,” he blushed, awkwardly looking off to the side with a guilty smile.

“Satoru you just took off your sleeve,” you murmured, placing an ice pack on his collarbone, your voice filled with worry.

“I’m really fine, baby,” he loosened up after seeing the cute pout on your lips, your brows faintly furrowed as your fingers ever so lightly iced his injury.

“I’m not your baby,” you stated with a glare, clearly not impressed with his defiance to go against his doctor’s orders, “I don’t date people that don’t listen to me,” you said without much thought while tending to his bruised clavicle.

“Oh —” his ears perked at hearing your words.

Fuck.

“Wait! What I meant was —”

It was evident that he was trying to contain his smile from the way he bit his lips. “You so wanna date me don’t you?”

---

It’s not a surprise how you ended up in this position.

It started off with a light kiss, lips softly meshing with each other with light teasing of tongue — he swore, it’ll be just one kiss.

Soon enough hands start to idly move on their own accord, groping areas, and massaging places that wouldn’t particularly follow with just one kiss, leaving you both simultaneously panting and yearning for more.

And then you’re grinding on his throbbing cock, spit slightly leaking from the edge of your mouths while tongues feverishly fought for dominance, naked with your pussy pulsing and dripping in need to swaddle and engulf him whole.

Progressing forward, you’re slowly sinking onto his length, bottoming out with your ass seated on his thighs, foreheads linked while you both took a minute to adjust to one another. like an unspoken language, you both solemnly breathed, that even if the world crashed around you both, nothing would matter because the other was there.

He’ll cum.

It’s beautiful how he does it. And in moments like these, you can’t deny that the man who’s chasing after his high under you was the man you loved.

With his mouth gaping open, his white brows furrow as he gasps for air while his large hands grip your bum, spreading out your cheeks for easier access through your hole. He desperately thrusts into you, unrhythmic and hips helpless from the warm seduction your plush walls have over him. His seeds shoot straight to your womb, filling you entirely with pulps of his cum leaking through your cunt. And it takes him a couple seconds to breathe as he rides out his high.

And then you’ll be sandwiched in between the sofa and his heavy body, his cock rummaging inside, amplifying the sound of his member shoved through your dripping cunt. It’s loud and sloppy the way he fucks into you. Wanton and bashful in the way his muscles tighten in tandem with you clenching down when his head hits just the right spot.

Your legs immediately wrap around his hips, securing him down to fuck you in that position. And he doesn’t retaliate from the limited position, instead, he welcomes it. With his face burrowed into the curve of your neck, his palms pushing your thighs to your chest— biting, clawing, scratching, and licking — doing whatever it takes for you to rectify the burning ache in between your thighs, and for him to release his seeds into you again — again, and again, and again.

“—toru! please,” you cried out and in your plea, he answered, “I’m right here,” Satoru groaned, “Keep up with me — fuck, I swear, jus’ a little more.”

Tightly wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzled closely to your ear. Despite him already being inches deep within you, his every grunt and pant, the desperate moans he releases while he states your name, mixed with delirious curses has you craving for more.

With his mind hypnotized from the pleasure of his cock rummaging your insides, swaddled in care despite his cock bullying past your folds, he becomes possessive and carnal.

“This is mine,” he harshly bites your shoulders, pleased when you yelp while simultaneously tightening your reign on his cock burrowed within your walls, “all mine. You’re fucking mine,” he proclaimed.

“ — ‘Toru please keep going fuck right there!” you sobbed, cheeks stained with euphoric tears.

“Just say you want it,” he growls muffled with his lips smashed with yours, “tell me you want me.”

“yes, I want it. I want it so, so bad — need you so bad ‘Toru!” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper, feeling the vibrations of his grunts, pulses of ecstasy pulsing through your veins and straight to your core as you succumbed all authority and control for him to do whatever he desired.

“Fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.” he curses when he hears your words. Like a broken record, it echoes in his brain, with every release of his cum, his breath hitching and body vibrating as he finally reached his climax.

The voice of you calling out his name so dearly repeats so melodically in his ears.

Soon, the room once filled with the savage slapping of wet skin and immoral use of dirty curses of pleasure while you both partook in unholy matrimony was now filled with a thick smell of post-sex pheromones, coupled with softened breaths and sweet hums of foolish lovers.

“Be careful,” you softly mumbled, under him, while your hands lightly weaved through his damp hair. you placed a soft kiss on his bruised collar, his pale skin accentuated the blue-green tint, making it look far worse than it was.

“aw, you worried for me? I’m so touched,” he faked a sob as he pulled you tighter into his arms, mumbling while he lavished in your warmth.

“I still didn’t forgive you,” you lightly pulled on his hair. his eyes were droopy and his body felt even more heavy over your limp one.

“Yea?” he hummed closer to your lips, gently kissing you while slowly grinding his hips to your wet core, “thought your harder harder ‘Toru harder was you forgiving me,” he lightly chuckled in between kisses.

“You’re the worst,” grumbling as you tightened your arms around his neck, snuggling closer to his warm body.

“Wow, you love me? I’m so touched,” Satoru softly chuckled, gently stroking your heated cheeks as he held you in his arms, he too, soaking in the warmth and feeling the beatings of your heart.

—

Your eyes focused on nothing but him despite the chaos around you — just a couple of steps from touching his slumped body,

A loud buzzer goes off, quieting your thoughts, the loud announcement ringing static in your ears.

“ Sustaining the blow, Gojo Satoru gets back on his feet again! He proves once again on the court he is The Honored One!”

Two minutes till game —

Head throbbing, and every inch of his body burning from the strain, Satoru vigilantly fought for control of the puck. Every second felt like an eternity, and every stride of his skates felt tortuous as if every fiber of his muscle were being torn apart.

Satoru quickly passes to Haibara, and fastidiously receives the puck again when he's open. Faking a move to juke out his opponent, Satoru was getting closer to Kyoto’s goal.

It was evident that fatigue was overwhelming each player on the court. With their voices hoarse, and sweat starting to sting their eyes, while puffs of smoke perspired with each agonizing breath causing their lungs to burn in their chest, no one was willing to back down.

Watching from the side while nervously biting your cheeks, you observed the game as Satoru flew through the rink. From the calmness of his eyes, and confidence in his strides, to the quickness of his feet and the gentle care to his game, things started to make sense.

For the man that obnoxiously barged into your life, ruining your pair of white shoes, to managing a spot in your heart, he sure made you fall — hard.

On one random afternoon while you watched him soundly sleep in your arms, lightly drooling as he mumbled something incoherent about some zunda and cream at Sendai Station — loving him came easily.

Because even if you tried running away, your feet would always end up back to him. And you knew the fire that you'll hold for him was going to burn, but you couldn’t resist the flame that he lit in your heart.

“With seconds to the clock, with Gojo Satoru’s lead, the Trailblazers are fighting desperately to win this game!”

Gojo Satoru — with him, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that.

“The Spartans are putting up a ferocious fight, Geto Suguru tries to steal the puck but is unsuccessful! Ladies and Gentleman, Gojo Satoru goes for the goal —”

Satoru sped his way across, the white tint of his jersey barely recognizable with his speed. The crowd cheers, sirens blow off to the throne the victors of this year’s champions.

And currently, tears freely flowed down your cheeks. And you let them despite the blur as you rushed onto the rink, the soles of your shoes about to slip on the scratched ice.

Because the saddest word in the world is almost, and he was worth more than being dwindled down to a regretful almost.

And if you had to defy fate, and create your own ending, so be it. You’ll suffer the consequence of meddling with destiny, and amend for your sins, in the future, when you’re dead if that meant there was a guarantee to have him in the present.

Because in the world of almost 8 billion people, somehow your worlds are intertwined.

“Be careful!” He panicked, throwing off his helmet as he rapidly skated over to you, “You’re going to hurt yo—”

Grabbing holding of his jersey, you slammed your lips with his — with thousands in the audience, cameras obnoxiously flashing up the rink in all directions.

You won’t hear the end of it from Yaga-Sensei, he’s certainly, most definitely mad.

Your anonymity is fucked, and now everyone will know you as the ‘girl that kissed Gojo Satoru’ — probably will be trending on all socials for at least a week, and that's being generous.

Maybe you were delusional or so high off adrenaline that you didn’t notice the mayhem surrounding you — especially not Satoru’s shocked expression when you suddenly kissed him.

But your ignorant bliss was soon interrupted when you slightly opened your eyes and were met with a thousand flashing lights that almost blinded your vision.

“— oh my god!” you squealed, immediately embarrassed at what you just did, only for Satoru to quickly hide you in his embrace, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“Looks like I’m not the one that’ll get in trouble by Sensei time,” he teased with his cheek placed on top of your head.

“Get me out of here,” you whined, “I’m so embarrassed��”

“Nah” Satoru cheekily smiled, tightly embracing you, “not until you give me a date.”

“You didn’t make the last shot stupid, Nanami did.”

“False, I assisted,” he stated after briefly calling out for one of his teammates, “If you weren’t so lovestruck by my handsome face, and actually saw my brilliant performance, then you would’ve seen the phenomenal play I had with Nanami.”

“Satoruuuu,” you whined, lightly stomping on your feet, getting increasingly squirmish from all the mess you’ve created.

“Told you,” whispering into your ear, “I’ll always win,” he stated before pushing his helmet over your head, reaching down to hold your hand as he led you out of the rink. The confidence in his walk looked almost arrogant, with you helplessly following, as he made his way to the lockers — a routined celebration after a game now as your boyfriend —

“Because you're my lucky charm, babe.”

author's note: if you made it to the end, thank you. i didn't expect a silly thought to lead to my distress about creating another au for him. But nonetheless, I hope you've all enjoyed ◡̈

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #darkmode.

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gorejo · 7 months

Text

▸ you want to fuck my girlfriend? here, take a listen, scrub. - GOJO SATORU (forbes30!gojo au)

your boyfriend isn’t too fond when you speak so highly of your coworker, especially when he sees right through their motives — he thinks. so what does your boyfriend do when your coworker calls while fucking you? well, have him listen so he can fuck off.

content: 6.5k words (unedited bc i can't deal with this rip). afab!/fem!reader, she/her pronouns. minors do not interact. blowjob, and cunninlingus. you swallow his cum. he calls you pet names (girl, baby, sweetheart, angel, princess), he gets jealous of your coworker. fingering. satoru cums in his pants oopsies haha. breeding. he calls himself daddy one part for a joke. he cums inside you. he manhandles while his coworker hears you both doing the naughty naughty ◡̈ satoru gets nervous when you call him by his full name.

How did things turn out this way?

You were supposed to be enjoying your dinner with Satoru. You should’ve helped clean the dishes with him by now, maybe even put the plates back into the cabinets.

Usually, he’ll cling onto you like a koala from behind, arms loosely wrapping around your waist while his hands were placed at the base of your tummy. lightly kissing the back of your neck, complaining about how stressful the day was with Ijichi up his ass as you hummed back sweet affirmations.

And maybe by now, you were supposed to be having some dessert while cuddling with him on the couch, cozy and under the soft blankets as he played with your fingers, grazing around your promise one while watching ridiculous rom-com movies, murmuring under his breath something undecipherable with a smug look on his face.

“What,” you queried without taking your eyes off the screen, biting your lips as you intently rooted for the couple to finally get together, “ugh but Satoru how can she be so dumb!” frustratingly rolling your eyes, pouting as you slumped into his chest, “like the man is practically spelling it out he’s in love with her!”

“You tell me,” your boyfriend groaned, “because baby this feels like déjà vu.”

“What?” you intently looked back at him, “sorry… can you repeat that?” you cheekily smiled, clueless at what was going on in your boyfriend’s head, completely forgetting about the torment and the eight years of suffering (he liked to exaggerate) he had to endure just to be here with you today, not even adding the months it took for you to even date him during college — he liked to always add.

“Nothing,” he softly responded, pulling you closer as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “just thinking, that’s all,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

This was supposed to be the ritual for Thursday evenings — wind down and relax while shitting on the cringy plot as you both giggled about the unrealistic romance, completely delusional just how you both got back together…

And as most couples do, while peacefully lying together things happen to lead to another, a simple kiss becoming something more, wanting and needy, resulting in occasional sexual favors when you both are up for it.

occasionally.

“Nothing too strenuous,” he’ll smile while looking up at you, his hair softly covering your breasts as he kisses your perked nipples.

“Satoru… w-we can’t, we need to get up early.” The irony in your words almost made him laugh.

Can’t? Oh… how you underestimate him. Have you not learned already that there was no “can’t” in his dictionary?

“No no, princess, we can,” he tenderly seduced as his lips brushed against your skin, looking up at your needy face with his cheeks a faint rose, “we always make it work.”

“But ‘Toru! Ngh,” you whined, grasping his wrist as you arched your back. The way you sucked in a harsh breath when you felt his mildly calloused fingers inch their way down into your panties, gently stroking your sensitive clit made his cock painfully throb inside the restraints of his briefs.

“it’ll be quick, so relax,” your boyfriend coaxed, his tongue swirling and sucking against your breasts, his ego satisfied when he feels you succumb to his touch. And when he releases with a pop, a coat of his saliva glistening on your areola, he can’t help but salivate when he thinks about how pretty your cunt will also glisten with his spit as your cum drips down his chin.

“You’re such a liar.” you tugged on his hair, bucking your hips to get more friction against his hands.

“Don’t you know me so well,” chuckling as he placed tender kisses to your chest, reaching up your collarbone and to your jaws, watching your expressions change from expectancy to frustration as he teased to put his finger in, “baby, yes or no?”

Glaring at him, you pulled him closer, “I hate you—” your voice hitched when he pushed two fingers in, slightly opening his mouth to release a moan as he watched your head being thrown back and chest huffing at the sudden penetration, immediately placing his vacant hand behind your head so you wouldn’t get hurt.

“Aw, you’re going to hurt my feelings,” a sly smile crept over his face, his mellifluous voice making you clench on his finger. his hand brings your head down to see his fingers connecting with your pussy, the slick of your erection making erotic noises behind the muffled voices from the movie.

“but you hear that?” His long fingers slowly entered frustratingly in and out of your hole, twisting as the tip of his middle and fourth fingers arched to brush against your sweet spot, the gushes of your viscous juice being embarrassingly loud as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, arms thrown around him, “heh you love me so much.”

It’s always just to get the edge off from the day’s stress.

And it’s never quick with Satoru unless it was the risque office sex he liked to have recently or when he thrived off a fast run in goddamn random places. But mostly it was a couple of rounds at a minimum.

Other times, you were kneeling in between his thighs, your fingers linked under his waistband, pulling down his gray sweats — his bulge deliciously accentuated in it. A soft whine releases when you feel a knot in your stomach and a familiar aching in between your thighs as you lick your lips while palming his clothed member.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, scanning down from his face to his pelvis.

your boyfriend worked hard for his body, proven by the thousands of pictures he sent you while at the gym or during his free time. mostly unsolicited photos that he strangely knew exactly when to send — during your meetings, during lunch, or just when you’re about to leave the office.

“Yea?” he murmured, kicking his sweats off his ankles, “or do you just like seeing me half naked in my sweats you love to eyefuck me with?”

Satoru had a talent, gifting to be exact, for looking so pretty — especially when his lids were half opened, his pink lips mildly caved open while his hands desperately touched you. With his defined adam’s apple bobbing, expectantly swallowing a wad of his spit as you kissed down his neck, tongue gently tickling his collarbone while you made your way down his firm chest, placing soft pecks on his skin as your hands soothed out his clenched abdominals.

“Hmm,” blowing on his member and placing a sweet kiss on his inner thigh, “both,” you hummed.

He’ll hiss when the cool air meets his semi-hardened cock, looking intently down as your small hands wrapped around his pretty shaft. His cerulean eyes lasciviously looking down at you while you played with his member, licking at his tip and stroking his length. His eyes soon roll back, his toned arms flayed while his hands clenched onto the back of the couch, his lids fluttering while he desperately rasped, feeling your sweet mouth sucking at his balls, “fuck, just like that angel… such a good girl.”

Usually, you’ll draw out his high. Hearing his hitched breaths and wonton moans as you swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, placing soft kitten licks and butterfly kisses down his length, holding his shaft and putting it against your cheek to have him see just how big he was.

And only when you see his brows furrow, his hand making its way to the top of your head to gently yet impatiently push you down his length, that you’ll expand your mouth, and pull him in deeply to the base of your throat.

He’ll guide your pace to just how he liked it, hips bucking into your mouth as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and his neatly trimmed pubes tickled your nose. Hissing at how warm, soft, and just so right your tongue felt around his dick as his thumb gently massaged your jaws, cooing at how perfect you looked — satisfied that no matter how many times you’ve done this for him, it was still a struggle for you to take him in all three holes.

And on most Thursday nights, it doesn’t take him long to cum into your mouth. With his head thrown back as he gulped down his spit, the vein of his cock bulging more as you felt his shaft twitch in your hands. He’ll relentlessly shoot his warm seeds down your throat, his body hovering over you as he groans while gluttonously calling out your name — breathy and close to whimpers as he rode out his orgasm.

You’ll release his softened cock with a little pop when his chest starts to calm and you hear his graveled chuckle. tiredly smiling as you sweetly looked up at him, his eyes fucked as he gazed at the corner of your mouth still covered with remnants of his cum.

“here spit,” he’ll kindly offer his hand, voice groggy and deep.

Satoru is a simple man when it comes to you. Because when you open up your mouth, showing him there was nothing left, he’ll feel his cock twitch again as he smiles. Groaning with his one hand wrapped around your jaw, just large enough to hold your face to easily maneuver. With your cheeks lightly smushed by his grip, he’ll arch down to praise you just before landing a kiss, “that’s my girl.”

And on other occasions, he’ll have you laying on the couch, his fingers delicately spreading out your pussy while he swirled his tongue around your clit, his finger prodding inside you — one, two, occasionally three when you were really feeling it — his salacious eyes watching your body squirm and lip spread like an angelic ‘O’ as you moaned out ‘Toru’.

Call him a masochist but he loves the sharp pain of your fingers pulling at his hair as you come into his mouth. It makes his dick twitch to know he’s doing a fine ass job pleasing you. He’ll go on his hands and knees if it meant he could endlessly make you cum — in his mouth? Well, that was a cheeky bonus.

He groaned as he lifted himself up, swiftly looking at the drops of your juices traveling down his forearm before he caged you back into his arms, his lips kissing you loosely while your hand immediately found refuge in his briefs.

It wasn’t a surprise you still felt him hard — one round was never sufficient for a guy like him.

And in between kisses, as he tugged onto your lower lip, “did you feel good?” he’ll breathily mutter, being careful not to use his soiled hands to touch you, yet he’ll press further into your body wanting more of you.

“Mhm, always,” you’ll affirm as you breathe out, feeling him slightly tremble in your hold, “you okay, Satoru?”

“Baby…” as he slightly pulled away to look at you, “I never came so fucking fast in my life,” he groaned while looking down, his enjoyment proved by the dark circular outline on the groin of his sweats, “i’m still fucking hard.”

Aside from sex, Thursdays were supposed to be a routine. Get home, eat and wash up, enjoy a glass of wine or dessert, and warmly talk in each other’s company as you both looked forward to the next day after work — the weekly date night that Satoru thoughtfully planned.

Key word: supposed to.

This was supposed to be the usual for a typical Thursday night.

So, how did you end up here — naked and sticky, with his hands pushing down your thighs to your chest, his long fingers pressing into your plush skin with eyes dark and carnal as his cock stretched you out fully in his bed with his hips pounding into you as his phone obnoxiously buzzed.

Well, it’s probably when you mentioned you would have a work meeting with a coworker after dinner, completely neglecting him — his Thursday routine with you.

“With who?” clenching his chopstick as he silently chewed on his rice, knowing just who you were about to say.

“Well,” cleaning your lips with a napkin, “Tanaka-san wanted me to go over the presentation with him for tomorrow.”

Satoru was sure he felt a vein pop when he heard his name. He was already upset that you were partnered with him for your upcoming project, he couldn’t possibly show his disapproval when you were so excited telling him all the little details you needed to prepare for. So he bit his tongue and let it bypass, forcing down his complaints because, “it’s just work, nothing more,” you cheerfully responded while combing through his hair, his arms wrapped around you as he pouted, “you’ll be with a guy?”

He usually didn’t care who you were partnered with, just with fucking Tanaka-san he did — anyone but him.

The Tanaka-san that you talked so highly about. The one that always brought in an extra cup of coffee, because it just so happened that your favorite cafe near work would always mess up his order and give him a drink for free.

He’ll quickly text you, clicking his tongue in annoyance in his car, angrily shaking his legs as he stared daggers into the man.

>> baby! coffee and pastries are on me for you and your team ( :

>> and don’t drink that.

<< satoru… go to work, he’s just a coworker.

<< … and you bought lunch for us yesterday.

>> what? :p can’t spoil my princess? Damn the world is such a heartless place now, my girlfriend won't even let me love her.

<;< Gojo Satoru.

>> heh… yes? That’s my name!

<< go to work, Ijichi-san is calling me.

>> a thank you will be nice. or even a kiss, i’m still here ( :

Or when Satoru texts or calls during your lunch hours, the stupid Tanaka-san will always be in the photo or facetime, somehow always being mentioned that you were getting lunch with him.

And fucking god, whenever he would pick you up from work, he’ll see right through his actions, when Satoru catches Tanaka-san’s eyes linger on you a little too long for just a normal co-worker basis.

Fucking scrub, Satoru mentally cursed, the audacity of the guy to think he even had a chance with you. It took him eight years of pure agonizing delay, and there was no way he could top that.

Satoru noticed your phone was set on the table. Vacant and unused as you absentmindedly walked off to get some water. You made it so easy for him.

“Babe, I need to check something real quick, can I use your phone?”

“Sure,” you mindlessly nodded away.

Your phone recognizing his face, he quickly scanned through your messages to send a text.

>> Tanaka-San, sorry but my phone is dead. Can you text this number instead? 03-xxxx-xxxx

>> thanks ! ( :

<;< sure!

And before you came back, Satoru quickly pressed the messages with his thumb, quickly deleting any evidence.

“O-oh god,” panting while your fingers gripped onto the sheets, anything, to steady yourself as he rammed his cock into you.

“that’s the spot, yea?” throwing his head back, his hands now pressing at your waist, pulling your hips upward, allowing his cock to hit that very deep sweet spot only he can reach.

“you like it here right,” he growled, watching you with sweat dripping down his temple, his stomach deliciously flexed with every thrust he mercilessly pistoled his cock in.

“s-slow down! Youre gonna make me cum again,” you cried out, tears fanning your view.

Of course, he was, multiple times in fact.

Most times, he’ll gently cradle you in his arms, fucking you gently before picking up his pace. Prepping you fully while you impatiently writhed in his arms, your pussy wet as he slapped his cock on your hardened bud. He wasn’t one to shy from being too rough, nor was he hesitant to be soft. He’ll always stay tuned to your emotions and place you before his own release, but today… the sight of you crying solely because of his cock gave him an ego boost — especially knowing a certain brat was waiting for your attention.

Chuckling as he gave you a lascivious smile, the one that wasn’t his usual flirty nor sweet — the one that was onset with hunger and annoyance.

“Then cum,” he mockingly ordered, the slapping of his hips meeting your ass harshly echoed.

“it’s too much!” You cried out, your breasts bouncing with every thrust he made, barely making the words through the thick smell of sex and humidity in the room.

You weren’t sure if the sheer length of his cock entering deep inside you was stripping you of air, or the sudden match of his swollen lips on yours that made you feel suffocated.

“Satoru! ngh” you gasped in between his passionate kisses, “I-it’s too deep!”

“Angel,” he whispered, his breath closely fanning over your hot cheeks as the rhythm of his hips firmly pressed in, his thrusts unforgiving as he watched you ricochet at the force. His hand now placed a little over the base of your tummy, “don’t you feel me? I’m right here, silly.” Emphasizing his last word with a taunting smile.

“but ‘Toru —”

It was almost impossible but Satoru made it happen — he always did. Because within a split second, you felt his ass clench and balls slap firmly against your ass, groaning as his breath slightly hitched, “fuck you feel so good,” he rasped as his toned arms caged you in, leaving you no room but to face him, “you feel me, baby… this is how far I can go when I’m inside you, crazy isn’t it?”

Buzz! Buzz!

“fucking shit,” he cursed as his eyes shot to his phone, clicking his tongue in annoyance. Despite the little prank he pulled with your coworker, Satoru himself forgot who the recipient was as he mentally cursed at whoever was disrupting his time with you.

Quickly switching positions, flipping you onto your stomach, pressing you down with his weight as all 7.2 inches of his cock throbbed inside you, he hooked his arms under your, clenching his ass while rutting in.

Buzz! Buzz!

“Y-your phone,” you moaned out as you felt your boyfriend swiftly pulsing in, the slapping of skin muffling the sound of his phone, “it keeps ringing fuckkk,” you pulled out a moan, “maybe it’s important ‘toru!”

“i swear if it’s Suguru,” Satoru spat through gritted teeth, “im gonna kick his ass.” his hand reached over to his phone, immediately rolling his tongue against his teeth. Squinting from the harsh light of his screen, nothing could tick him off more than seeing his name.

Scrub — aka Tanaka-san.

<< scrub (27 minutes ago)

hi! you asked me to text this number so I did!

let me know when you’re free

<< scrub (15 minutes ago)

Hello, are you still up to facetime?

<< scrub (8 minutes ago)

Let me know when you’re free! (:

Also, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…

<< scrub (2 minutes ago)

Are you there? Let me know if you’re okay.

I’m getting a little worried now…

<< missed call from scrub (10 seconds ago)

“Why the fuck is he over-exaggerating,” Satoru’s voice laced with venom, clearly pissed when he feels his phone vibrate again in his hands, the caller ‘Scrub’ not knowing when to quit.

“dumb fuck doesn’t know when to stop does he?” he hissed, throwing his phone to the side before giving him your attention again, pressing his member further in as he grunted at the weight of your walls falling plush to his length — fluttering and warm.

“w-who — ah!” you gasped when the tip of his head teasingly grazed against your sweet spot, struggling to breathe with the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.

“It’s no one,” Satoru chuckled, cupping your sweaty face as he pulled on your lower lip, “aw guess i’m not doing my job correctly,” his arms quickly moved to cage your legs to rest on his shoulders, making it so easy for him to breed you right then and there, “if you can think while i’m fucking you.”

“—ngh! It feels so so good, ‘Toru! More more!”

“Yea, you like that?”

Managing to get your arms around him, despite the pressing of your thighs on your chest, you whimpered while pulling him even further down, “mhm I love it, makes me so full…”

Buzz! Buzz!

“I fucking swear,” Satoru mentally chimed as he grasped for his phone, standing on his knees as he ran his wet hair through his fingers, showcasing his forehead as you watched his features highlighted through the screen light.

“Hurry…” you cooed, running your foot up his chest to play with his nipple, smirking as you seductively bit your pinky when he hugged your thigh with one arm while he scrolled through his phone. His biceps perfectly curling against your calves.

The veins on his forearms bulging as his grip tightened against his poor device that he could easily break with how pissed he was getting.

At this point it wasn’t even the fucking scrub that irked him, it was the simple fact that this prick managed to get on his nerves.

>> scrub

Please pick up, I hope everything is okay.

“Turn around for me, daddy’s got some business,” his voice laced in humor yet his actions said otherwise. Before quickly sending a text, he ordered, “and get on your knees for me baby.”

“O-okay,” your obedience was so cute. Normally you would’ve picked a fight, not letting him get what he wanted so easily, but today you were rather submissive.

Getting on your knees, you felt his thighs spread out your legs further, his vacant hand kneading your bum as he ran the tip of his head against your wet cunt, pressing himself in slowly when his dick was felt nicely lubricated with your slick.

“Fuck…” he hissed through his teeth, watching his girth perfectly stretching you out from behind.

Buzz. buzz. His phone vibrated in his hand.

“Good girl, let me take this call real quick, it’s really important,” quickly pressing a kiss to your back.

Fastidiously looking back, your eyes round in panic, “wait Satoru are you serious right —”

He rammed his length into you, stifling you as he almost knocked the wind out of your chest.

“be quiet for me, yea? We’ve done this before,” he smirked, “just think it’s suguru on the line.”

“B-but this is different,” you panted while grasping hold of his pillow. It felt nice with Satoru’s scent covered all of it. Despite knowing this was wrong, how improper this was, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of eroticism in all of this — fucking while he was on a business call… what devil came over you.

And he, the epitome of the devil himself had the nerve to send you a wink as he flashed his canines in a smile, his cock bullying your cunt, “shhh,” he mouthed while placing a finger on his lips, “just be good for me and just take my cock, yea? Don’t want nobody hearing my baby.”

Quickly losing any resolve when he knowingly pushed deeper inside. “You pervert — Ah… just right there…” you softly mumbled, your body moving forward when he retracted back to meet him in the middle for a harsher impact.

Satoru loved to spread your ass, he swore he saw stars when he saw your wet cunt, your cute little hole, wrapped so tightly around him, his sheer size stretching your rim.

“You love me,” Satoru cheekily responded before lightly biting your shoulder. And in that you did, no denying. And he knew that — fully, most entirely well.

With adrenaline pumping through his blood, nothing could stop him from tearing this man up into pieces for even glancing at what was his.

“Hello,” Gojo’s voice was calm, his dilated cerulean eyes locked to the crevice of your ass where his cock slowly pulled out and entered back in to disappear.

“Gojo-san?” the other man questioned, briefly taking a second to respond, “Oh, I- I hope you’re well, Gojo-san.”

“I am, you seem rather disappointed it’s me,” Gojo joked, voice laced with sarcasm.

“No, never! I just didn’t expect —”

“Expect me to answer?”

“well yes…”

You could barely hear the other line. You knew it wasn’t Ijichi-san, his voice was much higher in pitch. And it wasn’t Suguru, or else Satoru wouldn’t be so tense… nor would he give two fucks if his best friend could hear.

“‘Toru,” you moaned, “who is it?” you softly muttered.

“Shhh, angel,” Gojo soothed, “ keep going just like that,” he guided with his free hand placed at the small of your back to pace your hip movements, “she’s a bit occupied right now.”

“Oh.. I see,” the man on the other line awkwardly responded, “do you know when she’ll be free?”

“Not sure,” your boyfriend hummed, though his voice was calm, his lower portion of his body wasn’t. Because when he felt you intentionally clench on his length, looking back with your face smushed on his pillow — so delicate, so needy — he felt the insufferable knot in the bottom of his stomach start to burn and his balls twitch.

Suddenly thrusting in, making your whole body jolt, shaking at the force of his head bumping against the familiar gushy spot, “Is it something I can help you with?”

“Are you sure? I’m sure you’re a very busy man and all —” Tanaka trailed on stating how grateful he would be, an honor if the Gojo Satoru could help, but it went through one ear and out the other for Satoru.

“Mhm,” he mindlessly responded, “if you present that idea as your last point, giving multiple sources and data to prove it, i don’t find a reason why your boss won’t further finance your project.”

Looking at his phone to see a pdf file sent, quickly scanning over the details, “tidy up the numbers, I think your calculations are off on slide twelve.”

“Thank you, Gojo-san… uhm i-if i could ask one more question —”

“ ‘toru,” you mewled — you shouldn’t, you absolutely shouldn’t but you did knowing he’ll cave. Your boyfriend looked hot seeing him doing his work, talking in verbage that seemed so knowledgeable. And he was readily available — always.

“i wanna see you.”

“Hold up, can I keep you on hold for a brief moment,” Gojo stated, mindlessly pressing the mute button before he heard his response, throwing the phone to the side.

“Oh sure, that’s alright —”

His tongue swiped up from the base of your back as he grasped hold of your cheeks with one hand, pressing you down again into his favorite position. his hot breath seething to your ears as the only sounds aside for you both was the slapping of wet skin hitting eachother.

“Missed me?” he grins when he sees you nodding, “aren’t you a little naughty for distracting me.”

Normally you would scoff at his teasing banters, rolling your eyes as you listened to Satoru try with his questionable choice of words. He still had a childish habit of thinking you both were still young, freshly in your late teens as you both explored your sexual fantasies.

It was laughable, really. A man calculative and deemed honorable to society was nothing but a child that whined for your attention.

And this same man did rather unexplainable things to you. Like leaving you breathless with his love and how he served you as his lover, to the way he fucked you senseless, leaving you babbering and writhing for more.

The wonton groans echoed in the room fuzzies your mind, oftentimes making it hard to expand your lungs to inhale.

“breathe, focus on me,” he guided you — noticing you were struggling, noticing you were awfully close.

The familiar clench of your inner walls wrapping against his cock as he pushed deeper in, his breathing halts for a brief moment while his feet dug into the mattress, his ass clenching with every thrust.

“I’m so so close, ‘toru—‘m gonna….gonna—”

“I know, me too,” he groans while biting your shoulder, letting out a sweet gasp that leaves you shivering in his arms, “just give me a little more, yea?”

“Yes! Yes, more — need m-more!”

“Squeeze a little for me,” he gathers your thighs to create more friction for his cock to pass through your entrance. And immediately you clenched your thighs, knowing just how he liked it.

“just like that, squeezing me so tight,” he murmured while kissing your back.

You know he’s close. It’s in the way his sloppy thrusts, and his pace lacked his usual tempo. The girth of his voice stammering as his thumb firmly pressed against your clit, shoving his hand underneath you to rub circles like it was the most imperative thing for him to do besides holding his high just until he could spill his seeds into your dripping cunt after you reached your high.

“s— ‘toru.” youre close too. He can feel it in the way you call out his name. The way your walls fluttered and your slick made his cock every so easily penetrate inside you.

You were perfect — just like this, with no interference, with no Tanaka san — just you and him connected as one.

Was it naughty? Hell yea, and he loved every second of it.

But was keeping your coworker on hold while he fucked you a good idea? Probably not. You’ll most likely chew his ear off if you ever heard of this.

But, maybe it was the hormones raging inside him talking or he seriously didn’t give two cents about that scrub, but he thinks he heard something muffled through the covers, the culprit being his phone.

Maybe it was the notification for your period tracker? Guess it would be around this time it alerted him.

It could be Ijichi begging for him to respond to his email saying it was urgent — nothing was more urgent than this.

Oh well, whatever it was guess that’ll be future Satoru's problem.

“Please —’m close, ‘toru l-let me hold you,” you whined.

“Kay turn around for me,” quickly lifting himself, just enough so he could angle his cock swiftly in without much effort.

“You okay?” he lets out a chuckle when he sees your messy state — it’s beautiful, makes him want to bother you even more.

“Satoru, i think you literally fucked a baby inside me this time —” instead of finishing your statement, you ended up gasping. Pulling him closer, back arching and eyes rolling as your boyfriend ignorantly drove himself in, bullying your pussy while splitting you in half as the coil in your stomach inevidenatly snaps with his force.

This time? Well… it’s laughable — your innocence.

“Oh sweetheart,” firmly pinning down your hips, pushing down with his chest pressed down upon your breasts, his arms securely caging you in — locking in his prey, licking his lips just ready to devour. It was easy to miss the intent of his words, his voice for a moment tender and sweet contrasted to his cock pistoling mercilessly into your abused cunt, “that’s the point of fucking.”

The familiar pain he felt on his back, mildly stinging from a sweat, felt all too euphoric and sinful, yet his eyes ran to the back of his head in pure bliss.

The tugging of your arms against the ends of his hair, pulling you closer to your body despite the desperate cries requesting that he slow down… he knew you all too well to do anything else but listen to you.

Because just as he predicted, you gasp. Your walls spasm and your body shivers. The heat in your tummy that’s been threatening its release finally fires. With your eyes rolled back, you cum — hard with a warm liquid leaking out of your swollen cunt.

Nothing can send him off the edge more than him watching you reach your high. So when he sees you tensing and murderously clenching on his cock, the heat of your high running down his inner thighs, his bedsheets drenched in fluid, a similar gasp befalls his lips.

His voice cracks while muttering something incomprehensible as his arms tighten their grip around your body, his hips rutting desperately into you.

“Cum for me pretty,” you purred — eyes dazed and tired, yet holding on till the end.

And then he snaps. Hiding his face into the crook of your neck, desperately holding onto you as he pulls in a final thrust, his hot seeds shooting straight inside and his balls coiling inside the sac.

His voice was filled with so much desperation. His moans echoeing, verberating through the halls.

“Shit this pussy does wonders,” he groans with his jaw clenched, “keep it all in, all of it for me,” he rasped before smothering his lips with yours.

Satoru moans while kissing you. Rocking his hips loosely back and forth into you, your mind feeling dizzy — maybe at the thought of his cum being pushed further in, or that he fucked you so full.

He shivered a bit, he always did post-cum. Clinging onto you without any resolve to get down.

“You’re heavy,” giving him a hug while placing soft kisses against his cheeks.

“I’ll get off in a minute,” he whined while placing your hand on his head, “little more like this.”

Giggling as you scratched at his scalp, “can you wash me up —”

“Hello? G-gojo san…” there was a muffle in between his sheets.

What the hell was that? Until you remembered — “Oh my fucking god Satoru!” you panicked, immediately pushing him off you, your partner immediately groaning when his clock slipped out of your warmth. He couldn’t help but take a peak if it’ll spill out — and it did, a shining puddle of his cum slowly pooling in his sheets… drip by drip out of your pretty cunt — god he wanted to stuff it back in.

“Your phone!” you whispered while quickly wrapping yourself with his sheets — as if that’ll undo what he did.

“you left him on hold!”

“It’s your fault,” he groaned as he shifted his body to lie on his back, pulling himself up to lean against the backboard. It creaked a bit. Did he fuck you that hard? Impossible.

“What?” you stupidly looked at him, brows furrowed at his audacity to blame you.

Well if your pussy wasn’t so good, he thought while begrudgingly picking up the phone, maybe he wouldn’t have completely forgotten about the prick that was on the other line.

“hey sorry, bout that,” Satoru grunted while wiping off the excess cum on his dick with a tissue.

He couldn’t remember if he pressed the unmute button, but couldn’t care less if he did.

“T-that’s alright,” the other line sounded off, almost uncomfortable.

“You need anything else?”

“Uhm… no, that’s okay, uh… have a good night, sir.”

Sir? What the fuck was with the honorifics all of a sudden…

“Well you too, good night. And oh, don’t bring coffee anymore, that’s my job.”

— next morning.

“Remind me the next time you decide to fuck me on a work day” the ache in between your legs causing your voice to be laced with venom as you swirled your instant coffee, “that I cut your dick off.”

“But it felt good no?” your partner scoffed through the line, “and aren’t you the one that, I quote, ” sarcastically clearing his voice “‘toru harder! Harder, satoru harder! I’m so full! Cum inside —”

“Gojo satoru,” your voice panning, “yes maam,” your boyfriend immediately straightened after hearing his full name.

“So… i’ll pick you up later tonight —” Satoru tested his waters only to be cut off when he heard a familiar voice on the other line.

“Hello —”

What the fuck.

“Oh! Tanaka-san,” you chirped, “good morning! Coffee?” you offered to make him a cup.

“No thank you…”

“Well, I was waiting for your call last night, how come you didn’t call?”

“Sweets?” Satoru called out successfully getting your attention.

“Oh sorry, one moment.” apologetically smiling to your coworker, “hey baby, call you later! I’m with Tanaka-san! Bye!” you ended the call before hearing your boyfriend’s response.

“Uhm…” your coworker nervously played with his thumbs, “yea… about that… c-can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes, is everything okay?” you worriedly asked.

“Of course, I —” letting out a frustrated sigh, “I think there was a little misunderstanding.”

“Of?” you questioned, pursing your lips in confusion.

“I… I think your boyfriend —” catching himself with his error, “sorry… Gojo san misconstrued my actions for something else,” the poor man murmured.

“I’m sorry, Tanaka-san, I don’t seem to follow…”

“I called him yesterday while —” stopping himself from continuing with the thought, “and I promise it wasn’t because of what he presumed it to be, and I won’t tell a soul about what happened,” the man continually stammered, his face becoming increasingly pale while anxiously rubbing his hands together, “i..i — i thought it would be nice to get some tips about how to pursue a lady, b-but I think I overstepped my boundaries.”

“You called him?” unsure when they both exchanged numbers — maybe it was when Satoru picked you up a drunken night from a company dinner.

Tanaka-san was kind. He always held these gentle eyes that always seemed to calm anyone’s soul from just being around him. He would shyly pass you a morning coffee while he held another for someone else — Yamada-san, the one he’s been secretly crushing on since the day of her transfer two years ago. The Tanaka-san that would walk two steps behind you just so he could see if his crush dropped anything from her purse — a tendency she can’t quite fix because he’ll always be mindful of her.

You knew of his crush, and you wished to help him all that more.

But right now, his eyes were filled with embarrassment and anxiety as he talked to you — it was unfamiliar and cold.

“Do you want to talk this through over lunch?” you cheerfully invited, trying your best to fill the awkward tension between you both — more so, the guard he had with you.

“No!” flinching as he walked back, “Sorry, I think I should go,” Tanaka-san looked away, gulping as he started to walk in the other direction, “I-I think I’ll get lunch on my own today, sorry.”

“Wait — tanaka-san!” you called out, your surrounding coworkers oddly looking at you while passing by.

“Well that was weird,” you murmured, crossing your arms while leaning against the breakroom wall. You couldn’t say his actions hurt you because you couldn’t understand why he would be so suddenly defensive with you, but it did leave an unshakeable impression that you knew one person would have the answer to.

Confused, you decided it was best to ask the potential culprit himself.

>> So… why did Tanaka-san just apologize to me about you misunderstanding something? Saying that he shouldn’t have called you last night?

<< oh… about that?

>> oh god what did you do?

<< well…

<< i might’ve forgotten to click the mute button :p ….

author's comment: idk what comes over me when i write smut for him. it just fleshes out to long fics when they weren't meant to be this long. But anyways… I hope you all enjoyed as much as i love writing for him!!!!

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #darkmode.#forbes30!gojo

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