Satoru X Y/n - Blog Posts

dilf! gojo who is a neighborhood favorite, and you’re lucky enough to have him as your neighbor too. he’s always the first one offering to help you with literally anything.

need a ride home? don’t worry, he’s already coming to pick you up, in a lambo, no less. is it really necessary? not really. will you stop him? of course not. need to stock up on groceries for the week? don’t worry, he’s already walking beside you at one of the fanciest grocery stores in town. turns out he knows the manager who’s willing to give you a discount on all your orders from now on! getting ready for a date? don’t worry, he’s already waving you goodbye as you leave, teasing you about “using protection.” 

imagine his joy horror when you come back home, a blubbering mess as you tell him how absolutely shitty the date went, and how you’re swearing off of guys forever. lucky for you, gojo isn’t just some guy, he’s your friendly neighbor next door, so obviously he’ll help you out like any good neighbor would.

by drilling his cock into your pussy, making you forget allll about that shitty date of yours. you don’t even need to say an outright thanks — your moans and the obscene sounds of your cunt squelching around his cock serve as more than enough encouragement for gojo to continue pounding into you, even when he himself is overstimulated and can’t keep up. 

he’s super caring too, catching your tears with his tongue just in time before they ruin your makeup in any way. even though you did do your makeup for that shitty guy and not for gojo, who’s very mad, he must make sure your efforts don’t go to waste. your clothes, or whatever’s left of it? on the floor in shreds, not that it matters. gojo’ll buy you five more pairs of the same dress if you’d like. but hey, love thy neighbor, right?

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

Tutor!Gojo Headcannons

cw: satoru gojo x fem reader, nerdjo, university au, gojo is a gifted kid, you are a bimbo, physics major gojo, doctorate gojo, cheerleader reader, fingering, grinding, dry humping, use of petnames

kinda just had a blurb and wrote this drabble, i never write so the punctuation lord. idk i need this and ik i'll pass with flying colours.

MDNI

cheerleader!reader who's easily capable of landing on top of the pyramid but has no idea how to write the formula for what she did.

cheerleader!reader whose sports scholarship is barely holding on with her current grades, leaving her no choice but to accept her professor's recommendation for a tutor.

tutor!gojo who is the same age as you but getting his PhD right now.

tutor!gojo who calmly and patiently teaches you each and every concept from the beginning again, entertaining all your questions.

tutor!gojo who clears up way more than two hours a week because he needs to see you you need it.

tutor!gojo who suggests sessions right after your cheer practice so that he gets to see you in that slutty lil' uniform your brain is 'sharper'.

tutor!gojo who can't bear the fact that you're sitting all dolled up for him in your mini skirt and liner, huffing and squirming with every problem you don't get.

tutor!gojo who loves riling you up by slowly tracing the pencils underneath your skirt when you space out or pinching at your waist when you make a mistake.

tutor!gojo who adores seeing you so flustered that he sets up a reward system, making you fall right into his arms.

tutor!gojo who starts off with small words of praise like "good girl" "attagirl" "that's my girl".

tutor!gojo who then starts reprimanding your mistakes by doing the sum over again with his hand enveloping yours and making you trace the words.

tutor!gojo who has you sit on his lap for 'overlooking your work better', but this just leaves you grinding on his thigh with your barely there shorts as you try and solve these problems.

tutor!gojo who slowly bumps his leg up and down to help you, sometimes moving his own hips by accident.

tutor!gojo who grabs your hips with his massive hands, engulfing them as he glides them back and forth, dragging you like a doll on him.

tutor!gojo who then comes up to your ear and whispers "haan- that's it, check the directions of the waves again" as you mewl pathetically writhing on him.

tutor!gojo who has you sprawled out on his desk before your final exam for the semester, three fingers deep in you as you try to solve a paper

"p-please right there, jus' ah-" you moan as his fingers scissor your folds apart.

gojo looks at you with a condescending grin before he tsks, "baby you know the deal, you get to cum when you answer all the questions right."

"b-but 's not fair." you whine out as his fingers squelch loudly in your tight wet heat.

"sweetheart come on," he sighs at you "i know my girl, if you weren't so slutty you'd have been done long ago"

"can't, shit, can't i need more please, i can't focus." you beg him with all but tears in your eyes.

"come on love, 3 more questions yeah? you solve 'em right maybe i'll even give you more than jus' my fingers" he teases, pulling your thighs so that he's situated deeper inside you.

you cry out at the feeling, but before you can get a word in he speaks again "if not guess i h've to keep edgin' you" he coos into your ear and now the tears flow.

don't repost, plagiarize, or copy ig.

Yandere Gojo PT.2

the first part

while drying up u heard foot steps thinking that it was your mom you continued drying yourself 1 2 3 …. after dressing up your realization hit u lived alone

u almost lost your shit , building up some courage u walked out of the bathroom and onto the living room . you were inspecting the couch first then while bending over u felt a cloth wrap around your mouth . as you struggled the hand got tighter and tighter the last words u heard were " i am going to keep you safe "

you wake up in a very very comfy bed u really thought basement gojo aint sangwoo u freak out like where am I , what is the date etc .

after a solid ten minutes u hear the door creaking like someone is opening it u grab the lamp that near the bed and smash it a all your force but there is a hand blocking

with a terrified look u see the man

y/n pov

I was totally terrified at the man's face it was that guy who always came to your shop and asked your favorite dishes

author's pov

the man exclaimed " oh darling , don't try to use my spells against me " " i haven't introduced my self tho my name is gojo satoru "

at that point u striked that he is the famous gojo satoru

gojo then said " oh honey after all this hard work I did to get you " "wont you than me for it "

opposites attract

in which the jjk men have a s/o with a personality opposite to theirs

featuring; megumi, yuji, sukuna, gojo

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved divs by: @plutism header by: @yu-uji

did it first!

in which you ask the jjk boys to do a tiktok trend with you

featuring: yuji, megumi, gojo

a/n: a bit of context for megumis section. Basically reader told megumi that YUJI was the one being pranked when in reality it was MEGUMI that was being pranked and yuji and reader set it up

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved. 

divs by: @plutism

lost items (pre-relationship)

in which you find their lost items

featuring: satoru, sukuna, yuji, megumi

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved.  divs by: @anitalenia

dreaming of you

in which you text the jjk boys late at night

featuring: satoru, yuta, megumi, yuji

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved.  divs by: @anitalenia

Fever | camboy! Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

synopsis: you manage a talented camboy, but your company wants you to do anything in order to make sure his stream is a success. Ugh, why is he so flirty all of the time? It's really starting to get to you.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, masturbating (live), strip tease, fake identity, blow job, cumming, hair pulling, facial, livestreaming blow job, slight choking

a/n: this is just something to get out there for my bbg Satoru while I work on some other things hehehe. I'm sorry if it's not the best I have a busy night and wanted to post something!

Things were going terrific at your job, in fact managing had never been easier. You tap the end of your pen against the hardwood table, watching the screen in front of you intensely. Pale fingers twist around the belt you’d picked for tonight’s show, pulling the dark leather free from the loops. Electric eyes glance into the camera and your incessant tapping halts. One shaky breath later and the figure on screen stands from his chair, undoing the button of his breaches. They fall off his hips, revealing a tight pair of black boxers. His sweater is thrown to the side next, your eyes following the lines of his muscles. The flushed pink of his nipple particularly catches your attention. A distracted hum rumbles through your throat as you lean back in your chair. 

He slides down into his chair, a black and gold mask covering the majority of his face. What a shame. Your eyes narrow as he glances at the chat, donations streaming in like a group of cats playing with a mouse. A smirk plays with the corners of your mouth as the air changes almost instantly. “Like what you see? Wachin’ me through that screen?” His eyes are trained on the camera. The tip of your pen rests against your bottom lip as you observe. Money floods in while many excited wealthy heirs comment on what he should do next. 

Tonight was just a strip tease, to get people excited for next week’s show. He clicks his tongue, scanning the comments with the ego of a beautiful person getting attention. It was well deserved, he had a knack for this whole selling himself thing. Luckily enough, you’d secured your position in managing his shows. 

You glance at your watch, raising a brow at how much time has already passed. You swipe at a button that signals for him to finish the show. His eyes deviate from the lens slightly, most likely noticing your message. A cocky head tilt and a slight raise of his brows later he’s wishing everyone a good night. Once the camera is off, there are still viewers fluttering around in the comment section with excitement. Well, excitement in more ways than one. 

The door across the room creaks open just as you’re shutting the laptop in front of you. The man that was just on screen now stands before you, now covered in a fuzzy black robe. He groans as he flops down on the sofa across from where you sat. “Good work tonight.” You mutter, clicking your pen closed. He huffs, letting his eyes slowly take in your figure. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I didn’t do much,” His robe slips open slightly as he shifts into a more comfortable position. “M’looking forward to next week. They’re goin’ to go nuts.” He grins to himself. 

You nod in agreement, scrolling through some of the comments on your phone. “You have some big names wanting to see more. Keep up the good work.” You meet your reflection in the black screen of your phone. Your face is stern, almost cold. “Well,” you shove the device into your purse, lifting the corners of your mouth in a pleasant smile. “I’m headed home. See you tomorrow for our meeting, which you totally remembered is at 8?” 

His white fluffy hair almost sags as he curls his lips at the mention of an early morning meeting. “Yes ma’am.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Your mouth ticks in an amused grin, but before he can look up your face goes back to the usual. 

“Goodnight Satoru.” You turn on your heel, reaching for the knob of his apartment door. The night air welcomes you with a melody of traffic and scents that make your stomach growl. 

Mornings were your favorite time to visit cafes. They always seemed to have the best windows that let in the warmth of the sun. You’d arrived earlier than planned with the objective of planning Satoru’s next show. Yet, here you are, basking away in the sun with your eyes shut. If someone passes by they might think you’re asleep – to be honest you wish you were. “Were you so bored without me that sleep was the only option?” Your eyes flutter open, everything a bit too bright for your liking after being in such a peaceful state. 

With the intent of shutting the door behind you, there’s an accidental connection between your eyes. Satoru stands, striding toward his door. He grabs the edge, taking it from your hand. “Goodnight YN, get home safe.”

Satoru stands in front of you, a loose black silken shirt hanging from his frame. He’d tucked the bottom into his fitted black jeans. Laced through the loops was the same belt as last night. Your throat suddenly feels dry as you motion for him to take a seat. He gracefully obliges, scooting the wooden chair under the table. You’re about to start some small talk when his knee brushes against yours. The words you were about to say were fleeing from your brain. You clear your throat, hopeful that it’ll clear your thoughts as well. 

His legs were long, that much was obvious from the sheer height of the man, standing at about 6’3 when he wasn’t slouching. It was slightly alarming to you as it occurs that you’ve seen how muscular his thighs are. Thick and a creamy pink color, untouched by the sun. Your throat bobs as you swallow hard, trying to erase the image of his half-naked body from your mind. Every nerve in your body is attached to the single focal point where your bodies connect. A tingling sensation builds on the back of your neck. 

Warm, he was so warm – like the sun. He stretches his leg further to your side of the table, trapping your legs between his. The buzzing on your neck seemingly drops lower until it bubbles around your tense thighs. You tilt your head, allowing your lips to roll into your business smile. “Was there too much traffic on your way over here?” You question, hoping that talking about mundane things will slow your heart rate, which was honestly annoying you more than much else that had happened today. 

It’s not the first time you’d wanted to be between his legs. Sucking on that perfect cock of his while it blisters your swollen lips. Saliva mixed with pre-cum as he shoves it further down your throat, moaning your name mixed with a melody of explicits. His hands are tangled in your hair, messing the perfect way you’d styled it to appear more professional. Your eyes are rolling back in your head with each choppy thrust into your mouth. You can barely breathe, the only thing keeping you grounded was the tight grip you had on the back of his thighs. 

“But that was pretty much it…” Satoru trails off, drawing his brows together slightly. “You even listenin’?” He waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, ultimately snapping you out of whatever daytime fantasy that was. Your thighs clench together as a slick heat seeps into your core. Satoru doesn’t appear pleased with how you’d practically ignored him. Time to put on your smile again. He clicks his tongue, leaning onto the table. “Think you can get away with that pretty smile of yours?” His voice is low, that intense stare of his lowering to your lips. 

You grab the cup of coffee you’d ordered earlier, bringing the now cold liquid to your mouth. The smooth caramel taste runs down your throat, a light moan of satisfaction breaking the silence. Satoru watches with kept attention, drawing the line of your lips on the cup. Fuckin’ distracting is what it was. “Get away with what Satoru?” You tilt your head, setting the delicate cup back down. It clinks against the tea plate. 

He grunts, briskly sitting back in his chair, and crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a deep breath before looking back toward you. “That smile. It’s dangerous. You should be more careful with it around me.” His voice is low, teasing. It drives you wild.

Tilting your head, you stare at him with a stern expression. “I’ll be sure to put a warning label on it next time, just for you. In fact, I’ll make sure to file a report with HR about my smile being a workplace hazard.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his antics. 

He cocks a grin, amused by this whole scenario. "Go ahead, file the report. But you’ll have to include that you smiled first, so technically, it’s entrapment." Your face drops for a split second before you remember that HR doesn’t exist and you just got nervous about a hypothetical harassment report. 

You take a calm, detached sip from your drink. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to include all the evidence. Your overconfidence will be Exhibit A. Now, can we please continue our meeting?”

Satoru is silent for a beat before a cheesy grin lines his pink lips. "Oh, of course. I’m nothing if not a professional businessman. Let’s talk about what you really want to, my cock." There’s a slight glimmer in his eyes that irks you to no end, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong. 

The notebook in front of you was open to a fresh page with a title of ‘keep em’ cummin’ at the top. Fine wordplay if you do say so yourself. “Yes, well, there’s not much to talk about now is there?” The corner of your mouth twitches with pride in your snide comment. 

For a moment you think he’s not going to acknowledge your obvious lie, but then you feel the tip of his shoe on your ankle. Above the table he looks bored, distantly peering at your notebook as he slides his foot between your shoes. You’re confused for a moment as you watch him cover his mouth and turn his gaze out the window. With a brisk movement, he uses his foot as a fulcrum to briskly spread your legs apart. The action makes you jump in your seat, bringing your knees together to keep some sense of dignity. “You and I both know that isn’t true.” He studies you from the corner of his eye. “Given the chance, you’d love to be one of the props for my shows.” He tilts his head toward you, his face morphing into a smug victory.

You raise your brows, trying to conceal the way your heart jumps wildly in your chest. You wouldn’t let him win so easily. Besides, this was a professional relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet, you can’t help but snap back with "Given the chance, you’d probably love for me to say yes to that, wouldn’t you? Sadly, I’m here to talk about your show Satoru, not audition for it.” It takes all of your energy to calm the thumping in case he could hear it. 

"Talking about my show? Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing? Besides, who says you need to audition? I mean, you’re practically in it already.” He’s quick to lean forward onto the table, looking you up and down. “I’ll make sure to save you a spot in the credits.” He hums, picking up your cup. He leans back, sweetly taking his time to sip the drink. “Feel free to send me a nude, that way when I’m jacking off you’ll know exactly who I’m thinking about.” Your skin heats up at his words, arousal crawling up your spine and sinking its teeth into the back of your neck. The feeling makes you straighten your back and take a shaky breath. 

You hadn’t heard from Satoru since the meeting and weren’t sure of your feelings toward that. It wasn’t your fault he wanted to throw a tantrum during an important business meeting. The whole situation had you doubting being his manager. 

A calm smile replaces your obvious loss of composure. Scoffing breathily you shut the notebook on the table. You knew Satoru was used to getting his way with women, you’d witnessed it firsthand – but you weren’t going to let his attitude go unchecked. “Oh, don’t worry. I already assumed you think about me when you’re alone.” You draw your brows together, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout. “And here I thought you were creative enough to use your imagination. How disappointing.” His smirk falters behind the cup as you push the notebook toward him. “Write down some ideas to make you not be an everyday whore. I think you can do that much, right?” At that, you leave Satoru blinded by what you’d like to call a victory. 

Your windows were glowing with Tokyo city lights, creating a sea of neon. You’re so wrapped up in watching the street below you that you almost don’t hear your phone ringing. You have half the mind just to ignore whoever is calling you at this hour, but as you glance down to read the ID your skin pricks with anxiety. Shit, why was your boss calling you? You pick up your phone, placing it on speaker as you answer the call. “Hello?” You squeak. 

There’s some shuffling on the other side, but Director Yang's all too familiar voice gruffly comes through. “Yes, Ms. YN, we’re calling about Satoru’s show tomorrow. Do you have time to discuss?” A laugh bursts from your mouth and you clamp a hand over your lips. Like you had a choice in the matter. “Are you alright Ms. YN?” He doesn’t sound like he cares at all. 

“Yes, apologies Director Yang, of course, I have time to speak.” You reply quickly. He hums, rolling the noise around in his mouth. It rings through your ears like an alarm bell. 

It sounds like he’s muttering something to another person, and then suddenly he grunts loudly. “I’m assuming you know the severity of Satoru’s success rate? We here at LustLine won’t accept anything less than 10k viewers.” Your blood chills. His introduction rate had been nearly half of that, how did they expect a new streamer to reach numbers for their second stream? Let alone their first explicit one? “You know our expectations for managers Ms. YN, success above all else. You’ll make sure to do everything in your power to ensure a successful stream.” Before you have any time to respond or – hell – ask any questions the phone line disconnects. 

You stare at the black screen of your phone for a long moment of silence. Maybe you were mourning your career or maybe you were mourning your dignity. The screen lights up with a notification. 

Satoru: maybe I am an everyday whore

Linked in his message is a document outlining what he plans to do tomorrow. He’s a fucking genius.

“You ready?” You ask, assessing his outfit one last time. He grins, straightening the waistcoat he was in. Wine em’ and dine em’. Cosplay QNA turns into a horny noble jerking off in secret while at a ball. He was in tight black pants, tall brown boots, an ornate waistcoat, and a fluffy white undershirt. His hair was neat and you’d be damned if he wasn’t the sexiest thing on this planet. Not that you’d ever let him know that.

He places the finishing touch on his face – a masquerade mask – rolling his tongue between his lips. “Hmm, maybe when I’m done we can talk about your audition. I have notes.” His smoldering smile nearly kills you as he nods toward the door. Your face scrunches as his mask slips off his face, but he fixes it quickly. It’s almost enough for you to mention something, but before you can Satoru opens his mouth again. “Well, I’m off to work. Try not to masturbate too much without me, ruins the mood,” He walks a few paces before turning back to give you one last smile. “And the upholstery on that chair was expensive.” He adds, disappearing behind the door. 

You weren’t looking forward to tonight, after whatever happened during the cafe meeting and then that ominous call from your director – moving to the States sounded better than all of this. Dread was starting to fill your stomach as you walked through Satoru’s apartment door. He was waiting there for you, costume in hand, an apology cake in the other. Bottom line he acknowledged that he may have crossed a line… which was weird to hear him say because, in reality, your brain welcomed the thought of his suggestion. It made you feel guilty – having made him pay the bill and come up with a top-notch plan all on his own. You weren’t walking away from him – not really– no you were trying to walk away from yourself. The thoughts of Satoru eating you out under the table after he spread your legs apart in front of the window. Everyone who passed by would see you, their envy disguised by disgust. It was…exhilarating. So you had to get out of there before the crazy in you got a hold of Satoru and started hearing out his crazy plans. 

Needless to say, things were a lot better between the both of you. The screen in front of you pops up with a ‘starting now’ message before Satoru’s masked face fills out the screen. All his fans should be jealous that you got to see the real thing in person. His voice is clear in the mic, echoing through the speakers and your body. You glance at the door, biting down on your lip. What exactly would be Satoru’s reaction if you sent him a little…encouragement?

A sinister smile works the corners of your mouth upward as you slip out of your blouse, exposing your flushed breasts supported by a lacey black bra. You pick up your phone, open up the camera, and meet your gaze on the screen. You blink, noting the glaze of your eyes. 

Lifting up the phone to angle down your cleavage, catching the hem of lace. Before you can think twice about the consequences of such a simple action you click the button, capturing your rosy cheeks and devious grin. You open up your chat with Satoru and send the picture without much thought. 

I make no promises about the upholstery 

You glance back to the laptop screen in front of you, noting the way Satoru’s eyes dip to where his phone probably sits on the desk. He brows flinch, furrowing for a brief second before laughing at someone’s comment. He looks distracted, his gaze trailing down to his phone every once in a while. He’s gotten to the portion where he’ll start the bit of hiding away to touch himself. He grabs his phone, muttering something about mood lighting, but you glance down at your phone to see the little ‘read’ indicator appear. His face drops – not the reaction you were hoping for – but then you see how slowly his throat bobs with a swallow. The lights switch to a dusty yellow, dimmed to give the illusion of secrecy. You can still make out the glow of his eyes, illuminated by his phone screen. 

Some comments roll in about how slow he’s being, but the majority of them are pleased with seeing his cock. Can’t say you blame them. Satoru smirks to himself, a grin so full of ego it almost makes you proud. He works his belt off, standing from his desk chair to angle his waist toward the camera. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” He whispers, sliding his breeches down his thighs. “I can’t wait any longer, you drive me crazy. I want you so badly.” He hisses out of frame, groaning loudly as he frees himself from his boxers. You’d never seen a body part this beautiful. I mean who allowed him to have such a spectacular specimen attached to his body? 

The tip of his cock is an angry pink, tapering down to a paler shade of his skin tone. Viens etched their way up his shaft, curling toward the weeping head. He kept it well groomed and his hip muscles that fed into the base of his cock nearly sent shivers down your spine. He grips it with one hand, barely covering the length. Fuck, this was turning you on more than you’d hoped. Satoru is just about to start moving when his mask comes undone around the top section. You’re back into manager mode as the left side slowly slides down his face. He must notice because he hesitates as well, but he can’t fix it – as he’s currently jacking off in front of half a million people– half a million? Your eyes bulge. He couldn’t reveal his face to that many people, it would mean the end of his career before it even started. 

Your body moves on its own as you briskly open his office door. His attention is drawn to your half-naked appearance, blatantly staring at the lacey bra. You narrow your brows, nodding toward the camera. He goes back into character, but this time you get distracted by the movement of his hand around his cock. A slick pressure nearly bursts from in between your thighs. You blink rapidly, trying to look back at the situation at hand. His mask had stilled for the moment, but it was too risky to leave. A second mask lying on the dresser catches your eye. You swallow, quickly lacing it around your face. Satoru peers at you, slowing the pace of his strokes. It’s like he knows what you’re about to do – not that either of you mind. “Couldn’t hold back either eh?” His eyes trail down to his stiff cock, aching for another’s touch. 

Just go through with it. Feed into your desires. After all, isn’t this what the CEO meant? You slowly come into frame, brushing your fingertips against the skin of his chest. He tenses under your touch, his eyes flickering to where you stand. Gently you raise your hand to cup his cheek, bringing him down to your level. His hand has fallen from his cock, concentrating on the way you move in his space. You were something akin to ethereal and pure danger. “Think you can use your theatrics for good or do you think you won’t be able to handle it?” You tease, grinning innocently at him. 

Satoru raises his brows, leaning into your warmth. “Mmm, I don’t know, we never confirmed your audition.” He brushes the hair away from your neck, spanning his large hand against your sensitive skin. “But I think I can be flexible, as long as you are too.” His thumb is running along your jaw, eliciting a breathy moan from your traitorous mouth. “Do you get involved with all your talent?” He mutters, distracted by how your eyes flutter shut. 

A devious grin takes over your plump lips as you chuckle. “That’s not fair Satoru, who ever said you were talented?” His hand shifts to the base of your neck, tightening his grip around your windpipes. Your eyes fan open, meeting his gaze. 

It’s intense and heated as he rolls his tongue over his lips. “You’re about to find out now, aren’t you? Don’t get too attached darlin’” He says the latter part loud enough for the camera to pick up. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Your father would never approve of this,” His voice is strained, “but I couldn’t care less, you are heaven incarnate. Who am I to deny the pearly gates?” 

Damn, he was good at this whole improv thing. It almost knocks your brain completely off its rocker. It’s hard to think straight so the only words that come out of your mouth are; “Do not pretend this is pure. Disregard me, My Lord.” 

Satoru’s eyes light up at the use of title, the words falling from your lips making his cock beg to burrow deep within you. He was slowly losing control around you. “As you wish.” Now, usually at this time, you’d be pushing your expectations so far down. Yet, you couldn’t help but wish he’d kiss you passionately, but you were the one to open your mouth. “If you do well, maybe I’ll reward you later.” He’s pushing you to your knees and once you’re in front of his hips the whole world comes crashing into perspective. Satoru’s cock is thick and long, half of it surely wouldn’t fit in your mouth. 

He’s taking the camera off the tripod, aiming it toward you. Fuck, move your hands. You need to move your hands. Slowly your fingers wrap around the hard length of his cock. A hiss of pleasure slides out of his mouth. Watching you through the lens was nothing, seeing it in real life was going to kill him. He had to keep it together, no matter how much he wanted to spill all over your fucking filthy face. 

Anxiously you flick your tongue against the weeping slit of his head. His grip tightens around the camera, sliding his hand through your hair and pulling tightly. “Go on darling, let’s see you open that pretty mouth of yours.” You glare into the camera but obey. 

Parting your lips you languidly drag your tongue against the underside of his angry-looking head. You glance up, checking on Satoru. His chest is rising rapidly as he takes all of you in. He shifts, gradually pushing himself into your mouth. “F-fuck,” He hisses, trembling as your wet mouth surrounds his length. He leans his head back, groaning. “You feel so good, shit, s’my pretty girl.” Heat dives to his core as a strangled moan falls from his lips. What were you doing to him? He’d never said or hell done these things until right now. He was under some sort of spell, feverishly thrusting into your mouth. 

Your lips were red, the corners of your mouth felt like they were tearing. Saliva slides down your jaw, pooling next to your knees. “S’fucking good.” Satoru haphazardly sets the camera on the desk, using his newly free hand to more accurately fuck your face. His balls felt like they were about to burst. “M’gonna cum, f’uck,” he practically shoves you off his cock, clumsily stroking his cock. “Open your mouth baby girl,” he sounds like he’s begging. You wanted him to cum, prove your efforts weren’t for naught. “S’at’s it, mmm, f’uck,” he groans as his eyes furrow. Your pretty mouth open for him, waiting patiently. God, it was driving him insane. His hand aches from the sheer force of his movements. 

You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of Satoru’s cum splurt over your face. You drag a glob off your cheek, sticking out your tongue to lavish the sweet juice. He studies you with a dark expression. 

His stream is forgotten as he pulls you from the ground. “After all that you think I’m letting you leave? Come on, I haven’t even tried the main course.” He grabs a rag from his desk, cleaning what he can of his load off your face. He was right all along. You wanted this, no him. Even if that was just his personality of teasing every woman he came into contact with, it had gotten to you…and that was scary. You’d given in. 

It’s the brisk step back that nearly breaks your resolve. The expression on Satoru’s face is one of neediness. “I’m sorry, I must return to the ball…I can’t do this.” You briskly walk to the door, tearing off the mask and tossing it toward Satoru who is staring after you. 

You had to make your escape quick. “Wait, where are you going?” Satoru’s eyes go wide as you shut the door behind you, gather your things, slip back into your shirt, and run out the door. The worst part was rushing past the apology cake. 

You would not let this fever for Satoru ruin what you’d worked so hard for.