He's So Pretty My Baby Boy

10 things I hate about you ⟢ ꒰ frat boy! gojo x reader ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ pairing ✧ college au . frat boy! gojo x reader . based on the film '10 things I hate about you'

summary . satoru gojo is the usual frat boy that one can think of when you're asked to think of, well, a frat boy. he loves to sleep around and be a womanizer. he swears he's been in every single girls bed from college, but it seems he hasn't gotten into yours. his friend offers to pay him to ask you out and get into your pants in the span of a month. at first he refuses, but who is he to turn down money despite the greedy bastard being rich as hell? what he doesn't expect is to accidentally fall in love with you and forget of his past morals.

⟡ genre/tag . fluff, angst, mentions of starving, enemies to lovers (sort of, you just hate him) college au, gojo is a manwhore ! a bit of suguru x reader and ofc reminder this is based on '10 things I hate about you' so there will be many similarities !

⨾ words . 7.1k

NOT PROOFREAD.

a/n : wrote this after watching 10 things I hate about you for the first time ever. I actually rewatched in a few more times while writing this ! knew I had to write about this right away with my glorious king satoru. also a thank you to my friend for helping me out again !

nav . here !

gojo knew who he was from a young age. setting his goals straight, which were to sleep with every girl he could get his hands on. or his dick into.

he made this a goal the second he graduated high school and got admitted to the states best college, one that was known for having the largest fraternity parties. and so far he has a body count of... well he lost count. charming girls was easy, all he had to do was woo them with a shine of his pearly whites, and his 9-inch dick.

"im surprised your shit hasn't ever gotten infected" suguru remarked, lighting up the cigar that was placed on his pink lips. the two were juniors in college, but they've been close since freshman year when gojo joined into the life of partying.

"easy. I wear condoms." this made suguru's pierced eyebrow lift up as he glanced at the white haired boy.

"thought you went raw."

that made gojo chuckle as he adverted his attention to his friend instead of his phone where he was texting a girl he's had his eye on for a while. the cheerleading captain. if things went well tonight, he will for sure have a chance to pound into her on his bed with a new bed frame after breaking his last one. take a wild guess.

"nah, as if I'd ever give them the full experience."

when I said that this school was widely known for their frat parties, I meant it. there is one every Friday, and every Friday you turned down your friends offer to go out with her. sure you attended some parties, just not any fraternities.

"cmon, you never come with me! you're always so busy doing nothing" bianca grumbled as she dramatically flopped onto your bed, making you jump a little. "and I will continue to be busy doing nothing" you shot back as you cleaned off the dust on your neglected guitar. "not even for an hour?" "nope." "not even for me?" "absolutely not, can't risk seeing my ex."

"what about for choso?"

now, by all means you definitely did not have any romantic feelings towards the emo boy. regardless of being a bit alternative yourself, you had no interest going after boys with similar tastes and style as you, not after your past relationship. choso was the lead guitarist of a band you've known for years. they perform once in a while at small or big events. this party being one of them. you've been wanting to ask him for guitar tips, but the man was quite reserved.

"for real?"

"mhm." she lifted up her head from the pillow propping her on her palm. "you should go, maybe to get the chance to talk to him. they lost a back up guitarist last week-"

"yeah I know." you interrupted

"maybe you could fill in that spot."

you went quiet for a bit letting the idea sink in for a bit before lifting up your head to look at her, slowly placing down your fender guitar, that was now looking brand new, on the floor next to the amplifier. "well, maybe I can."

meanwhile, in the comfort of the frat house, gojo was absolutely losing his mind. he has a hook up in less than an hour and nothing is going according to plan. "hey. hey! this is not the beer I asked for you guys to buy!" he shouted from across the room as he saw his friends carry in a cooler full of heineken instead of bud light which he claimed was the best beer created.

"you're stressing out man, calm down." suguru's hands met with gojos shoulders massaging the knots of stress that were forming. "course i'm stressed, am going to be deep inside the cheerleading captain if the party impresses her, can't let this opportunity just slip away."

"she's chopped." shoko chimed in as she walked past the two boys carrying a cooler herself. "well yeah but like, its a huge deal alright?!" he threw his hands up in the air in despair. "where the hell is that band?"

"they're on their way, should be here in twenty."

"yeah well the party fucking starts in twenty!" he bit back. his anxiety was hard to miss. just then as if it was divine intervention, choso walked in dabbing suguru up, exchanging a few pats on the back. "haven't seen you in a while man."

the guitarist that left the group? that was suguru. he ditched the band simply because he wanted to focus more on his party life after being influenced by satoru. and somewhere along the way he lost interest in that dumb dream he had on becoming a rockstar or whatever. that obviously didn't sit well with the other band members, but choso could care less, not like suguru was contributing anything to the band in the first place since choso's guitar always outshined suguru's.

“mhm, thanks for coming, you guys can go set up over there” he pointed at the stage they set up.

“will do.”

you rarely wore dresses. not that you didn’t like them, they’re just not your go to option to wear. but there’s no way you’d ever say you hated the one you were wearing right now. it was a pretty vintage one that bianca was lending you for tonight after you finally agreed to accompany her to the party.

“see you look gorgeous” bianca placed her mascara wand down to look at you up and down admiring how her dress fit you perfectly. “i like it” you hummed looking down at yourself.

“come on, we’ll be late.”

the loud music filled the cramped building as you made your way through the crowd clinging onto bianca’s arm for your life. people danced, drank, and made out in every corner you’d look at. the whole place reeked and the flashing lights and loud music made it very overwhelming. gojo wobbled down the stairs fixing his white locks, pushing them back panting as he threw himself on the couch where suguru greeted him with a red cup.

“well?” the sweating boy gladly took a sip of his beer grunting. “had to cover her face in a pillow. her expressions were pissing me off.” his long limbs stretched out. suguru chuckled as he cracked his neck a bit listening to the song that was playing carefully. “oh shit, i wrote this song.” “don’t care.” satoru mumbled. “well, guess i can say i’ve fucked every girl in school.” as if that was anything to flex about.

that’s when sugurus eyes landed on you from across the room, a smirk crept up on his face noticing how out of place you looked.

his pretty ex girlfriend.

you and suguru dated all throughout high school. after joining college, he was ready for new things, such as sex. but you weren’t which led to your breakup and fucked your best friend at the time out of spite. you lost both your boyfriend and best girl just from not being ready to get your virginity taken away.

“what about her?” he asked pointing at you. satoru followed his finger before his eyes found you as well. “who the hell even is that” he could barely make out your figure through the colored lights and his blurry vision. “so you haven’t.”

bianca served you a drink which you were definitely not going to consume, before she excused herself to find someone to dance with.

“here drink this. i’ll be back alright? choso is right over there, use this time to talk to him.”

before you even got the chance to even let out a word, she left. you felt abandoned as she left you in the kitchen all alone. bringing up the cup to your lips, you took a sip before cringing at how god awful it tasted.

“not a fan of heineken? told those bastards to bring in bud light but they never listen” you hear a voice behind you, making you turn around to meet eyes with satoru, the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. the bet was simple. he had exactly one month, until november 20, to make you fall for him and fuck him. with a whopping 300$ waiting at the end for him, if successful.

“you get into her panties in a month, and i’ll pay you.” your ex offered. “why?” gojos eyebrows furrowed. “what’s in it for you?”

the whole thing was suspicious to him at first. suguru never gets in the way of gojos sex life. never telling him who to fuck or who to avoid fucking.

“mm just cuz.. she’s difficult. you like a challenge don’t you?”

reluctantly, satoru agrees. “how much?”

“300.”

“bet.”

“oh sorry don’t think we’ve met before. i’m satoru” he offered a sweet smile, showing off those pearly whites that could have a girl soaking wet in 10 seconds. “oh.. okay.” your response made him still for a second.

“i want you to go out with me”

“huh?”

“go out with me.” he repeated which only made you scoff at the boy’s advances. “sorry not really interested.” a grunt left his mouth before continuing. “i can take you out some place real nice, places you’ve never been before.”

“like the 7/11 in broadway?”

he froze for a second before chuckling shaking his head while doing so. “well, no..” his pale fingers reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “you like picnics, pretty?”

“not really.” his hand got smacked away by yours. “ill prepare you the best dishes you can imagine.”

“im seriously not interested, thank you though.”

he stood there, dumbfounded, as he watched you walk away. this was going to take a while.

you didn't even have the opportunity to talk to choso, which was the whole reason why you wanted to go to the dumb party in the first place, because bianca came running towards you ordering for you two to leave this instant after finding the boy she was talking to fucking another girl.

the way you met bianca was from her showing you around the college campus when you transferred, become your only friend so far. and you knew that this boy she was in a talking stage with was really, really her type. that night you spent comforting her, allowing her to soak your shoulder with her tears and her barely audible tantrum, as well as thinking about the boy that wanted to desperately go out with you. what was that about?

────୨ৎ────

gojo could've sworn he left dissecting frogs back in high school, but here he was again, poking around at the laid back the diseased amphibians internal organs. "no way am I doing this shit." with a mutter, he placed the tweezers down gagging, shaking his hands in disgust before pulling out his cigarette box, sliding one out placing it in between his pretty pink lips, far too pretty for a man. "smoking in class? you'll set the smoke alarm off." suguru scooted closer to his friend. "how'd it go yesterday? did you get her number or..?" gojo exhaled, no smoke yet, just resignation.

"nothing happened. she wasn't interested" the black haired boy scoffed, not comprehending the words that were coming out the school's playboy. " you're satoru fucking gojo, this should be easy as hell for you!"

“well how do I make her fall for me?” he brought up the lighter up to his cigar huffing it slowly before blowing it towards suguru, in which he looked down at gojo unimpressed. “you can start by putting that,” he took ahold of the cigarette before crushing it down against the table, which left a nasty dent on the cheap laminate. “down.” he ordered flatly, staring as gojo whined like a kid who just got denied candy from the check out isle. “she doesn't like boys who smoke.”

“..how do you know that?”

suguru paused in deep thought. "I overheard her telling her friend that, the one that has the white pearls around her neck all the time. they were talking about their types or something." he shrugged. "anything else she said about her type?" gojo asked intrigued as if he was about to take a test on you specifically.

“she likes pretty guys.”

“are you telling me im not a pretty guy?”

As if divine intervention occurred, the door creaked open, pausing the chatter between the two boys. there you were. wearing a cute frilly outfit as you made your way to your desk. suguru shot gojo a pointed look before walking away. the sight of you made gojo straighten his posture suddenly hyper aware of every detail of himself. quickly running a hand through his hair and gulping, his adams apple bobbing. he shot you a smirk as you got close.

"hey.. wanna traumatize this frog with me?"

you looked down at the poorly dissected frog then back at him, the boy from the party. "looks like you've traumatized it enough." your response made him blink. well, at least you were giving him full sentences now but your sarcasm hurt his ego a bit. "if you give it a kiss, im sure you'd bring it back to life." the boys blue eyes met yours. "or you can kiss me instead.."

you let out a small chuckle. "like that'd be any different."

"just sit down.." he pushed a stool for you to sit down on. you were reluctant but you sat down, sliding off your bag to set it down next to you before slipping on a pair of gloves provided by the lab you were both currently doing, or about to do. "girls would kill to place their lips on mine"

"oh im sure.." you picked up the scalpel, carefully inspecting the frog. "are you seriously this bad at dissecting?"

"baby im a lover not a scientist." gojo brought a hand up to his heart dramatically.

shooting him a glance, you continue poking around the organs. "you don't even qualify as the first one.." he snorted at your sass, lips twitching in a cute crooked grin. "I beg to differ" he brought his hand up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "go out with me, please."

"hold the damn frog still before I poke one of your eyes out instead"

"yes ma'am."

suguru watched from afar with a serious look placed on his face.

────୨ৎ────

the wandering page is heaven itself. a cute shop tucked right around the corner of the school full of second hand books and cd's. its tyour go to spot where you usually buy your cd's for your collection that was placed neatly back at your dorm. you entered, the bell placed on top of the door notifying any workers of your entrance quickly making your way to the music disc section, crooked shelves full of cd's. you're surprised to see many new arrivals.

some were year old music, and some were rare old ones from the 2000's. you reached out to grab a few, a soft smile plastered on your face as you scanned the labels. so deep into it, you didn't notice the bell chiming again.

"excuse me, have you seen any cd of the cranberries?" the smooth voice behind you asked. "oh sorry I don't work here-"

"found out through her instagram stories, she enjoys listening to this Irish band, the cranberries."

"what's her insta?" gojo looked up from his phone, pausing his game.

"uhhh, shit can't find it anymore but anyways. use that information how you want" suguru grabbed his hair, making a messy bun out of it. "got it."

halfway through your sentence, you took a good look at who was behind you. satoru. "oh, it's you." your eyes narrowed as they focused on him. the boy slid his glasses on the crown of his head. you didn't know he even wore those, well you barely knew him. still, you'd be lying if you said you didn't find it attractive. "are you stalking me?" you asked defensively.

"what? no no, I guess this is just destiny" his eyes lowered down to the cd in your hands. "frank valli? isn't that guy like, ancient?" you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. the plastic creaked at the way your hands gripped it tighter. "I wouldn't say that."

satoru chuckled tilting his head a bit. he sure has some nerve.

"didn't realize you were into boy bands."

"not a boy band"

"right, got it."

you pushed past him to head to the cashier. shit.

────୨ৎ────

"you're not going to get anywhere if you keep teasing her like that." suguru knew you hated when people would make fun of your interests, even if it was just a harmless joke. the edge on his tone wasn't unnoticed by his friend. "she's so.. difficult." gojo muttered, half to himself, as he threw a basketball up in the air before catching it as it fell back into his hands.

"hes weird. real weird." you explained to bianca who was so intrigued by the sudden love interest that appeared in your life out of nowhere. "no way the satoru gojo is wanting to take you out!" without hesitation, you threw a pillow at her, which landed right on her face. "don't say it like that!.. hurts me a bit" with a groan, you allowed your hand to drag over your face. "cmon its just that.. he's not known for asking girls out. he just gets on with the freaky ass stuff."

you gave her a flat look. "I feel so special."

"what else does she like? since you know soooo much about her."

"well.. apart from the cranberries, she likes the Marias. they're performing near us, take her there. im sure that'll definitely make her warm up to you. and once she does, go for it." gojos face faltered, his expression turning a bit more thoughtful as he sat up.

"seriously?"

"mhm. take her."

"... pass me my computer. let me order the tickets."

"well I think you should give him a chance. he's very handsome." biancas eyebrows wiggled. "girl you can have him, I don't want him." you replied, which only earned a groan from her. "I don't want any boy who thinks the whole world revolves around him because he's a frat boy with a body count of two hundred"

"if you really didn't want him, you wouldn't be talking about him every five minutes."

her comment really shut you up.

────୨ৎ────

you weren't expecting to see two tickets slip right into your line of sight while you were halfway through placing some textbooks in your locker. the bold blue letters read, 'THE MARIAS' "hi pretty.. got these for you and me." your eyes widened at the familiar voice. the white haired individual really had a habit of sneaking up behind you didn't he? "you.. you got-" you stammered, blinking at the sight of the tickets, then back at him.

"got these for you and me." he repeated himself, both his voice and gaze softening. not sure to be flattered or continue being suspicious, you slowly accepted one of the tickets, taking it from his pale hand. "you really don't give up huh?"

"id never give up on you. how many times do I have to tell you sweetheart, I want you. so allow me to take you out, yeah?" his voice never stuttered. but your heart did.

"one date." you said firmly as you lifted up your finger, finally agreeing to his advances. his charm was different.. it was bold, yes, but real. "don't push your luck, im only accepting because its the marias. im not even going to ask how you know I like them."

"because I like you." there was short pauses between his words allowing each syllable to sink in. like he meant it.

"one date, for now." he said placing his lips on your cheek lightly, making you freeze. "ill pick you up at seven.. here give me your phone number."

you had no idea why you were allowing him to win a point at this game he was forcing you to play. but you were definitely not going to complain now.

"alright I gave em to her." the proud boy with a grin stretched from ear to ear, walked up to where suguru was.

"told you it'd work."

for some odd reason, suguru couldn't help but feel a deep sense of jealousy. you were his girlfriend for years. and his dumb actions ruined all of it. but if he made you realize that no one would ever love you like he did, you'd for sure come crawling back to him.

later that night, in the comfort of your un-made bed, you sat cross legged staring down at the new contact. satoru with a stupid blue heart next to it. of course he'd type in his name like that. "just one date.." you repeated to yourself. a silent warning to yourself, him, and the universe.

satoru : hi ml, wear something cute yea? and something easy to take off ;)

you stared at the message. any past thoughts of him not being that bad quickly vanished. obviously, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of your reply, so you left him on read. guess that hurt his feelings because a few minutes later he texted again.

satoru : im joking baby :(

you threw your phone onto the night stand, like it burned your hand. you couldn't decide what was worse, his sad excuse of flirting, or the fact that your lips were twitching in a just barely visible smile.

"going on a date I see?" bianca grinned as she watched you put on the last bit of blush on your cheek. "lemme guess, you finally agreed to gojos attempts?"

"yep. just one date though. only because he bought me concert tickets."

her eyes widened. "no way! to see who?!"

"the Marias."

"oh, if that isn't true love right there, id not know what is."

you chuckled. "did you confront your talking stage?"

"fuck no" she groaned. "just blocked him everywhere, im not giving him any time of my day so he could explain himself to me." her body fell on your bed, bouncing a bit. "did you ever talk to choso?"

shit. that's what you've been forgetting.

"ill get around to it."

you both met up to where you agreed, which was just outside the girls dormitories. the second he saw you, his heart fluttered.

you looked, no, you are gorgeous. why was he just noticing this now?

"...hey" a smile crept up on his face. he was dressed casual while you wore a pretty jean skirt with a shirt from the band. "hi" you returned the greeting.

"you're so beautiful.." you'd be lying if you said you weren't flustered. if you were to lie, the dark tint of pink on your cheeks would say otherwise. "lets just go."

with a chuckle, he led you to his car. a model of the year, typical for a rich ass boy like him. being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before closing it as you settled yourself down.

he made his way over to the drivers seat. "you ready babe?"

the concert was beautiful. the music reached your heart it made you tear up, of course some songs made you recall your past relationship. gojo couldn't help but admire you from time to time. watching as your pretty mouth sang along to the unknown lyrics.

"lets take a picture pretty." he said out of nowhere. "a picture?" he nodded before pulling out his phone snapping a few pictures of you and him throughout the night, mostly of you. you did the same, filling up your gallery with endless pictures and videos.

as the night came to an end, he drove you safely back home, both of you discussing the songs you enjoyed being performed the most.

"I think I enjoyed back to me the most"

"no way! paranoia was clearly the most enjoyable."

he rolled his eyes. "yeah well I think what I enjoyed the most was seeing you sing. you're gorgeous baby."

"you already told me that like twenty times."

"and ill continue to tell you for the rest of my life and beyond that." his words made your stomach twist. not in a bad way. definitely not.

it was quiet for a bit before you spoke again. "yknow I want to be in a band." gojos eyebrows rose up in surprise. "that so?" you nodded. "my ex boyfriend was in one." the mention of you having a dating history didn't sit well with him. he kept reminding himself that this was all just a bet. so why did it bother him?

"mm so you're saying im not going to be your first boyfriend?"

"you're very confident to know if I even want you as my boyfriend."

the radio played soft melodies through the quiet moments between the two of you. "my friend was in a band too, he quit tho"

now it was your turn to be surprised. "oh that's cool."

"I want to join chosos band, that's the one-" before you could finish, he arrived at the side of the sidewalk that led to the girls dormitories. "choso.. I know him. ive got connections and I have no problem recommending you to him darling."

"you'd do that for me?"

"course I would."

".. counting down the seconds to go on another date with you soon love." he spoke quietly. his soft voice made you smile. and before you knew it, you were leaning into a kiss with no control over your body, like it was possessed by a curse or something.

gojo froze. he was torn between kissing you back or not. "lets save this for another time."

your heart sank as you pulled back.

opening the door, you left without a goodnight. or a kiss. once you were out of view, satoru dragged his hands down his face groaning. he's grown attached to you without knowing it. and he's hurt you with denying your kiss. he was getting what he wanted. well, what the bet said.

he knew he had to fix this somehow. he couldn't just let you lose all feelings for him when he was so close.

the next day, upon walking to campus, he paid a couple of band students, winking at them. what was he up to?

────୨ৎ────

you were outside sitting on the first bench closest to the field scrolling on your phone.

you were annoyed.

no. pissed. pissed at how he dodged your kiss like it meant nothing and honestly you have every right to be. because why is he hesitant to kiss you when he’s the one that was so desperate. is this some sort of sick joke?

if he wanted to feed into his ego by making you fall for him. well he got it.

but if he wanted you. he wouldn’t have flinched.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a microphone starting.

“can't take my eyes of off you..” he murmured into the microphone, his eyes locking on yours. you blinked once. and then again - unsure if you were seeing right. before you even got a chance to process it, the band that was right next to you began to perform filling the field with the familiar tune of ‘can’t take my eyes off you’. his body stepped forward, then another, until he broke into a dance. you let out a few chuckles of disbelief as you watched him make a fool of himself.

“i love you baby!” you wanted to crawl into a corner and die from embarrassment. “and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby..” his finger pointed right at you.

a crowd formed, recording as the schools biggest frat boy performed for a girl they’ve never seen before. you brought your hands up to you face covering it in embarrassment as a flush appeared. he was so off key now, yelling out the lyrics as two police officers approached him. he made a bee line towards the bottom of the bleachers, dodging any attempt of getting caught. as he finally reached you, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“oh pretty baby..” he panted as the chorus died down. your hands shot up grabbing the collar of his shirt before smashing your lips onto his for a short, but sweet, kiss, before he was taken away by the officers.

“i love you baby..” he said as he got dragged out the field by the hold of the officers.

and part of you knew that his words were truthful.

────୨ৎ────

detention was awful. well not really, but for satoru it is. sitting in silence for an hour is straight up torture. he would rather take death than one more second of this.

he was unaware of the faint tapping on the window next to him until you accidentally tapped too hard, ducking your head just in time. he was close enough to look down and see you there. he looked up to see the teacher too busy typing away at her computer, probably writing that inappropriate novel everyone says she writes, before looking back down at you. you waved your hand, gesturing for him to escape.

'I can't..' he worded which you just rolled your eyes at.

'come on!'

he sighed looking back at the teacher before he slowly opened the window. he stood up as the teacher got distracted by tapping on her window now. he took this opportunity to jump out, landing harshly on the grass. before he could let out a groan of pain, your hand covered his mouth.

"come on."

you both made a run for it, away from the school campus.

"did you see that my love? I was like a ninja!"

"you sure didn't land like one."

he grinned before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "you like the performance I gave ya?

"..yeah, my favorite part was you getting caught." he lightly shoved you away before hugging you again.

you both were laying in bed at his dorm, enjoying each others presence. "so.. you going to tomorrows frat?" he asked softly as he rubbed your back. "I dunno.. last time I went I didn't like it."

he needed you to go. he only had three more days to fuck you. "it'll be fun.. just come with me." his persistence made you furrow your eyebrows. "why are you forcing this on me?

"im not forcing you. is it too much for me to ask you to come join me at my party?"

"dont talk like that to me." you propped yourself up on your elbow looking down at him. "what. what is is going on huh?"

he scoffed. "nothing!"

"well its obviously something if you keep on-mmph!" his lips on yours cut you off. you obviously allowed him to mold his onto yours.

"just want to show off my pretty doll to everyone.. so come tomorrow"

he was running out of time, after all.

────୨ৎ────

at the end, you agreed to accompany him. after reaching the frat house, you searched for the bathroom needing a pee break after drinking too much water earlier. after countless doors being opened, and getting flashed, you finally secured yourself some privacy.

you came back from the bathroom, rounding the corner, just in time to hear a laugh.

"can't believe you actually pulled this off man." the voice was one you haven't heard in months. another voice cuts in. "yeah yeah whatever, it stopped being a bet weeks ago suguru."

your heart drops.

no, no no this can't be happening.

drunken laughter chatting about how you thought this actually meant something. that you meant something to satoru.

"so you dont want your prize?" you quickly approached the two voices. your entire world stopped as you saw satoru, and your ex suguru.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you stared at him, feeling so many emotions all at once. anger, betrayal, and even denial. your mind was processing what you just heard. you wanted to hear it wasn't real, that he wasn't only after you because of a bet and that he actually likes you. but you knew you were better than that, you couldn't help but connect all the dots. the coincidence that he came up to you at that frat party, the same one you knew suguru was in. the way gojo knew your interests. the way he knew your type.

it wasn't fate. it was orchestrated.

there was horror written all over gojos face. "no baby.. baby listen to me." but you refused, shaking your head. you refused because the following words were going to be the confirmation that you dreaded to hear. without another word, you turned away pushing though the crowd. "y/n!" he shouted, but you didn't turn back. as you made your way down the hall, his hand wrapped around you wrist, "please, PLEASE listen to me!" in which you yanked back.

"it was all a bet huh? set up by the one boy I hate the most. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you! you're just like every other frat-" you were interrupted by his lips molding against yours. no matter how much you wanted to melt into it, you didn't. your hands landed on his chest, pushing him off you before wiping your lips. the boy stood there, stunned, as his sad blue eyes watched you walk out.

"babe.."

that night your phone was blowing up. call after call, text after text- all from him.

satoru : y/n please.

satoru : call me, return my calls lets talk pretty.

satoru : it was a bet, but believe me when I tell you that I truly love you.

satoru : I love you. say it back baby. please I need you. can't lose you, im sorry love please don't leave. fuck suguru for all I care.

you were debating if you should just block him for good, finger hovering over the red block button. but you simply put your phone on dnd and headed to sleep recalling the horrible events of tonight. tear stains were placed on your cheeks, mascara ruined, just like how your life felt. ruined.

Bianca had tried, she really did. she tried her best to comfort you, but she understood you needed space. the sweet girl provided you with extra blankets as well as water, she even rubbed off the remaining makeup on you. she as well received some texts from satoru. her response?

'fuck you.''

satoru hasn't felt this horrible since he accidentally flushed down his sisters goldfish back in first grade. but it wasn't the same.

the goldfish didn't hate him. you did.

and he hated himself for how he made you feel. he hated himself for doing this to you. but god was he grateful to have taken on that bet. not for the money, but for you. because of the bet, he met such a wonderful girl who he was completely smitten for. too bad that the girl now hates his guts.

the weather matched how gojo felt. he looked like hell.

his iconic shades and stupid grin weren't present. his usual outfits was replaced by a simple white t-shirt with sweatpants. the confident boy was now just a regular burnt out college student who looks like he missed out on eight hours of sleep to study for his physics final. he hasn't eaten since yesterday, deciding his body didn't deserve to be rewarded with food.

he ignored the glances from other students. people who idolized him were staring with widened eyes. no way was that satoru gojo. some of his frat bros came up to him, hitting his back, laughing at whatever the hell they thought was funny. suguru included.

satoru swore he began seeing red.

"you never told me she was your fucking ex." he muttered dangerously. suguru let out a sigh, leading gojo away from others. "hey, we made a bet. don't see why you're mopping about it. I wanted to show her that really no one would love her like me. anyways here, you ran out yesterday couldn't give this to you." he pulled out the prize promised from the beginning. those damn 300$.

satoru pushed the money back to sugars chest. "I dont want it." all the air was knocked from sugars lungs for a second. gojos fist collided with sugurus cheekbone. sugurus eyes widened and a few gasps could be heard from the scene. his gaze following satoru watching as he walked further and further away.

the boy was desperate to see you. he needed to find a way to prove himself to you. to prove that his feelings were real.

you didn't show up to your classes that day, deciding its best if you stayed in bed scrolling through your phones gallery wanting to delete every picture you've taken of him.

satoru : good morning angel, you've got every right to hate me. but im not giving up on us, not when you're everything ive ever wanted. talk to me mkay?.."

Bianca thankfully walked in which quickly made you forget about his text.

"hey girl.. know this is bad to bring up now but.. choso wants to talk to you later at the frat he's playing at. something about letting you into the band."

for the first time in a while, you felt happy. you knew who recommended you to him.

"you know what happened last time I went to a frat.."

she chuckled a bit. "ill make sure that son of a bitch doesn't approach you. ill be your personal guard dog madam."

the familiar smell of beer, weed, and other shit you didn't want to know, came to you. the same smells you encountered on that night. biancas arm was around yours tightly, keeping watch of your surroundings. "alright, we got emo boy on stage. frat boy at 10 o'clock"

"I dont think that's 10 o'clock.." you muttered which you were quickly 'shh' at. "okay coast is clear."

you took in deep breaths reminding yourself that you weren't here for gojo, you were here because you might have a chance to join your ex boyfriends band. he caught your eye for a second, offering you a small nod.

bianca nudged you, urging you to go talk to him. "if gojo dares to even approach you, ill smash his empty head with my beer." you weaved through the crowd, getting closer to where choso and the others were setting up. "hey stink. haven't seen you in a while." you recalled the old nickname the bandmates gave you all those years ago.

"hi choso.. you wanted to talk?" he hummed, nodding, as his fingers adjusted the chords that were plugged into his guitar. "you still got that fender?" your heart stopped for a second. "great, lets meet up every Thursday, ill teach you and we'll let you into the band."

"you're serious?"

"yeah. confused why you didn't just ask me in person. had to hear it from your new boyfriend."

just as you felt your stress go away, any memories of gojo leave your mind, they came back immediately. "oh.. no no he's not my boyfriend." you explained. "ah, right. you still got my number?" he asked in which you shook your head. "nope, suguru made me delete any contacts that were of a guy."

a half chuckle half scoff escaped his lips. "course he did."

before you could discuss any more details, a voice behind you appeared. for the 100th time in the past month. "wow.. you're glowing."

gojo.

the sound of his voice sent shivers throughout your body. you turned to see him.. disheveled. the bags under his eyes gave away his lack of sleep. he looked miserable. still stupidly hot of course.

"what the hell do you want."

"I want to talk.."

bianca was running across the room, ready to jump on him. "get away from her asshole! you got ten seconds!" gojo looked down at her with a confused look before looking back at you. with a bit of hesitation, you agreed. "fine."

in a secluded area, the same spot where you had your "break up" you ordered him to talk. "I messed up. so fucking bad. I took the bet, yeah. thought I could.. woo you. but believe me when I said I had zero idea suguru was the ex you talked about."

"to me you weren't a bet baby. everything about you felt raw. you kept rejecting me and god, that made me want you even more."

you didn't speak, allowing him to finish letting out his emotions. "and I hated myself for liking you, for falling for you like a fucking idiot. because it meant it wasn't a bet anymore, it was love. and I hated how I took that bet. I hated your stupid hair, and the way you played guitar. I hated the music you listened to, your dorky smile. I hate the way your voice softens when you talk about the shit you like. I hate that I dont know every detail about you down to you favorite childhood movie. but.. I hate how I don't hate you at all. and I hate how I dont regret doing the bet at all, because otherwise, I wouldn't have met you."

his voice was raw. the emotions he had going on began to flowing down his cheeks. you began to remember why you fell for him in the first place because even though he was an entitled frat boy, he already had the key to your heart with the way he talked to you. "..you can't just fix this with recommending me to choso's band.."

"I know." he whispered.

"..and you lied to me." you continued, but at this point you were just playing with him.

"I did. but im not lying now. I stopped lying weeks ago."

"why?"

"because I fell in love with this really awesome girl."

you looked up at him for a while, taking in his apology and confession. there was no longer a frat boy in front of you, he was cracked open showing who he truly was. just a sweet boy who wanted your love.

just satoru.

"you love me?" you asked.

he nodded, rather quickly. "absolutely"

"..and if I dont love you back."

god, he'd kill himself. "then, that'd be fine too." he watched as you stepped closer. "if I asked you to stay away from me forever-"

"I will do that too." he promised.

"..but you wouldn't."

"I wouldn't." he placed his lips on yours, feeling as your arms wrapped around his neck as his found your waist, deepening the kiss.

"dont screw up again satoru."

"fuck, just kiss me."

and that you did.

ending a/n . hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing ! this was my first long fic.. never doing ts again.

thinking abt unofficialbf!katsuki

unofficialbf!katsuki who's abrasive and rude and loud until you're near him. he almost instantly sizzles down

unofficialbf!katsuki who proudly declared you as "his" when you were 4 after you accepted his bouquet of dandelions and its kind of just stuck since then

unofficialbf!katsuki who, after that, began proudly holding your hand and marching around with you. at some point, it just became a habit for him to reach for your hand, continuing even as you got older

unofficialbf!katsuki who still apologizes to you the same way as when you two were kids. he holds your hand and looks away as he mutters "'m sorry.." with rosy cheeks. when he really messes up, he'll bury his nose into your neck and hold you close and whisper a genuine apology into your ear. he'll struggle for the right words and get super flustered, but you know hes trying!!

unofficialbf!katsuki who, for as long as izuku could remember, has been a package deal with you

unofficialbf!katsuki who is practically inseparable from you. like youre not hugging in class or anything but theres just this unnecessary proximity with you guys? you're always just unexplainably close for no reason

unofficialbf!katsuki who carries your bag everywhere. he complains that you "can't even carry your own damn bags!!" but would never let you carry them

unofficialbf!katsuki! who beats his friends up for being stupid when they don’t understand something he’s teaching them, but is so gentle when teaching you. he gets real close and talks in this low rumbly voice that’s just SO HOT

unofficialbf!katsuki whos an asshole to everyone but you

unofficialbf!katsuki who, despite being unnaturally nice to you and finds it hard to be/stay mad at you, gets really genuinely angry when you get reckless when fighting. the only times hes ever really yelled at you for real were when you put yourself in danger

unofficialbf!katsuki who doesnt care if mineta and kaminari ogle the other girls but would blow them up if they so much as laid an eye on you

unofficialbf!katsuki who tries to hide the way his eyes soften whenever you talk

unofficialbf!katsuki who, due to your childhood marriage/relationship/idk-its-complicated, is really comfortable with touching you. he would never let any of those other extras touch him, but he never hesitates to grasp your hand when you're scared, grab your waist to pull you in when he just wants you closer, or even pull you into his lap (in private) to cuddle. he has no problem manhandling you and throwing you over his shoulder or even carrying you bride-style when he's reaaally feeling confident. when you sit next to each other, his hands easily find your thigh almost subconsciously to rub his thumb over it soothingly

unofficialbf!katsuki who you've been having tickle fights with since you were little! he would never DARE hit you like he would those other losers, so he tickles you when he thinks you're being annoying. he knows all of your ticklish spots and still uses it against you when he thinks you're being bratty (or when he just wants to hear you laugh, but he'd die before he admits it)

unofficialbf!katsuki who LOVES cuddling with you! (would never admit it) you get all loud and fussy sometimes (no one is allowed to sass him other than you) so he just pulls you close to his chest and drags his fingertips up and down your back in the way he knows you like. he loves how it gets you all quiet and sleepy and clingy in a matter of minutes. he wonders if you notice the way that after just a couple minutes, your speech starts to slur and you bury your face into his chest or neck. (he does. he notices.)

unofficialbf!katsuki who you've been cuddling since you were kids so it just sort of continued as you two got older? you've known him for forever, so it never felt weird or anything. its just oddly natural? mitsuki has photos of you two cuddling from ages like 4-now.

speaking of mitsuki!! she absolutely ADORES you and unofficialbf!katsuki HATES it! he always mutters about how she likes you more than him whenever you come over, which is like everyday, which she always affirms happily. calls you "my sweet y/n-chan," "sweetheart," "dear," "lovely," and of course "my future daughter-in-law." (katsuki always tells her to "SHUT UP, OLD HAG" with bright red cheeks)

unofficialbf!katsuki whose grumpy moods and grumbles are easily halted by you running your hands through his blond spikes, which always turns him into putty in your hands

unofficialbf!katsuki who always has you in his dorm. he has this thing about nobody, not sero or denki or even kirishima being allowed in his bed when they hangout, but he lets you with no problem. in fact, he's the one who drags you into his bed with him.

unofficialbf!katsuki whose classmates have literally placed bets on when his balls will drop and he'll make you his official girlfriend (he cursed them out and blew stuff up when he found out)

can you tell im a sucker for the just friends/unofficial bf trope...

operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru

synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.

contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably

notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P

The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.

Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.

“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.

“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.

“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”

“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”

You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”

“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”

You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”

He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”

“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”

He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”

You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.

His glasses are tilted again. Of course.

You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”

“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”

You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”

“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look. 

“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”

You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”

It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.

He doesn’t say anything.

You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.

But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.

Another type. That’s not you.

“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”

He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”

“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”

He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that… a thing?”

“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”

He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.

You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.

But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.

So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”

He goes still.

His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.

“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”

His jaw tightens.

You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering. Curiosity. Science.”

He finally turns to look at you.

His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.

You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.

Then he shrugs.

“…Nah.”

It slices through the air with quiet finality.

Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.

You laugh. It sounds forced.

“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”

He’s silent.

You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.

“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.

And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue. 

You knew it was time. Ten years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.

It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.

You’d been doomed since day one.

And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.

But you were young. And hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”

You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”

“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”

You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”

“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”

Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.

Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”

You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”

Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”

She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”

You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”

Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”

You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”

Utahime grinned.

“Whatcha doing?” 

Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.

You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”

The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.

He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”

You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.

“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.

You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”

His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring DJ and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”

“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”

“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”

Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.

“Satoru!”

“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just… optimizing.”

Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”

“Nothing~”

You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.

“Give it back!”

“Patience.”

“Gojo Satoru—”

“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.

You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.

“…What did you do?”

“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious.

“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”

“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just… considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”

“Good.”

The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”

You snort. “You are a guy.”

“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”

You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”

“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.

You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.

“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”

Silence.

It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.

Gojo freezes.

You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”

But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”

You blink.

And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.

“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”

You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.

You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.

Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.

You want to scream.

Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?

Yeah. Not going great.

Not at all.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.

Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes—determined, dangerous, hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she wouldn’t let you walk out of her apartment looking like a clown. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”

You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.

But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked… beautiful.

When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing the edge of your coat. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.

He didn’t notice you at first.

Then he looked up.

His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.

“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”

You blinked. “Hi to you too.”

He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.

He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”

You blinked.

Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.

And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.

You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”

“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”

Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.

But the moment passed.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”

Different.

Not better. Not prettier.

Just different.

You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.

“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.

In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines. 

What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.

He didn’t even notice.

“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.

He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”

Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”

Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”

It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.

Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”

Exactly. That was the point.

You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—

Satoru.

In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.

You blink. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”

“At this café? On this side of campus?”

“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”

“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”

“…Kazuya.”

“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”

But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”

Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”

“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”

Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”

“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”

Gojo beams. “Told you.”

Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.

“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”

“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”

You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”

Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”

“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”

Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.

“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”

“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.

“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.

By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.

Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,

“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”

The question hangs awkwardly.

You and Satoru answer at the same time.

“No,” you say quickly.

“Yes,” he says with a smile.

You both turn to stare at each other.

“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”

Kazuya blinks. “Right.”

You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.

“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.

Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”

You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.

Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.

Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.

You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”

“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”

“By who?”

“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.

“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”

You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.

“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.

“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.

You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”

He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”

You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.

You don’t answer.

You don’t have to.

Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel… bearable.

Almost good, even.

Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did… maybe it all meant something.

You let yourself believe it, just a little.

And that was your first mistake.

It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.

You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says—far too casually:

“So, guess who asked me out?”

You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”

“Ayane.”

The name hits you like a slap.

You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”

“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”

You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.

She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.

But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.

“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too—I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”

You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins. 

Your stomach sinks.

This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.

But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.

“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.

Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.

It’s that he chose her.

Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him—when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.

You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.

He doesn’t follow.

You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.

For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.

You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”

You go silent.

And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.

You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.

It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.

And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.

You weren’t just losing your best friend.

You were losing the love of your life.

And he didn’t even notice.

It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.

Well—no. That’s a lie.

He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”

But he tells himself you’re busy.

Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.

So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.

But then Friday comes.

And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—

You’d be making fun of me right now.

You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be… you.

Ayane is lovely.

But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.

She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.

He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.

Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.

And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.

He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.

No new messages.

Just the last one you sent days ago:

“Laundry. Rain check?”

And nothing since.

He waits. Another day. Then two.

You don’t show up to class again.

You don’t like his latest meme.

You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.

You are silent.

And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead—realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.

That he didn’t just lose a study partner.

He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.

And for the first time since he was a kid—

He’s afraid.

It’s been a little over a week.

A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.

And Satoru is suffering.

He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.

But you were always one step ahead.

You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a “you really fumbled the bag” look in her eyes.

Gojo Satoru is… just tired.

Miserable.

So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.

You don’t look surprised to see him. Just... tired too.

“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.

He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”

You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

Gojo looks down at his feet.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.

Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”

You glance up.

“I can’t either.”

Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment—God, I thought I was going to—”

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

The words stop him cold.

“What?” he breathes.

You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”

His heart stutters. You don’t stop.

“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”

He looks like he’s been hit.

“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”

You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.

And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.

Not yet.

Not until he stops you from walking away.

“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.

“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”

Your breath catches.

He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.

“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”

You gape.

“Wait—”

“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”

You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.

“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”

You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”

“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”

He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.

“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”

A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.

“You idiot,” you murmur.

“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”

Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.

“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

You stare at him—this man, this brilliant, ridiculous, loyal boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.

“It’s not too late,” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.

Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.

And then, finally, he kisses you.

It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home. Like every unanswered question finally getting its answer.

When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”

You laugh, heart full, forehead pressed to his.

“Mission failed,” you whisper.

He grins. “Good.”

And then he kisses you again.

art by leimiruu on x!

U CANT MAKE THIS UP 😭

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

The fastest sexiest pizza in Tokyo

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays! Too bad that you seem to have lost your wallet and can't pay for your order. Or is it? Maybe finding alternative ways of payment isn't that bad when your delivery boy is such a snack himself!

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut, fluff Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex with a stranger, oral, cumshot, cumeating, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, eating pizza while fucking lol. This is just a stupid and cheesy smut fest that makes me want to order at Tiger Pizza every day! All characters are of age. This story is 18+, minors don't interact.

This is my contribution to the XXX hub collab. I picked the trope delivery boy, obviously! Thank you so much to @novaresque and @manjiken for hosting this amazing collab! I had so much fun with this!

You pull the door open and are greeted by pastel pink hair and a dazzling smile.

"Hey, thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

You blink several times, staring dazedly at the guy in front of you. Why is your pizza delivery boy so hot?

He must be new. You have never seen him before. You would definitely remember that cute smile and the golden eyes and cotton candy pink hair peeking out under his red Tiger Pizza baseball cap. Your gaze wanders downwards. And those biceps! You would definitely remember those too!

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays!

You give him a warm smile,

"Wow, thank you for the fast delivery! Let me grab my wallet!"

And suddenly, the horror crashes over you. Oh shit! The small bowl on top of your shoe cupboard where you usually put your wallet is empty!

"Would you mind waiting a moment? Or, just come in, I guess! I have to search for my wallet real quick, sorry."

"Sure, no problem. Where is your kitchen? I'll just put the food there."

You lead Tiger Pizza boy to your kitchen, looking for your wallet on the way where. But to your dismay, it is nowhere to be found. Not in your bag, not on the couch table, not on the kitchen counter.

"Um...this is embarrassing, but I don't have any money."

Hot delivery boy's bright smile falters a little bit, and he raises his eyebrows.

"Huh?"

You begin to sweat.

"I'm so sorry! I must have lost my wallet. What..what do we do now?"

Tiger Pizza boy stops smiling and instead scratches his cute pink hair.

"Well, I can't go back without the money, or the books won't add up."

His honey eyes look at you with the biggest puppy dog look you have ever seen on a human being. Gosh, is he pouting? He looks so fucking cute!

He puts the pizza and salad box down on your kitchen table and shoves his large tan hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, rummaging around until he pulls a few banknotes out triumphantly. The smile is back on his face.

"Ok, looks like I can pay for your order!"

Now you feel even worse. As a pizza delivery boy, he definitely doesn't earn a lot. He's probably a poor college student who's struggling with rent and stuff, and now he has to pay for your mistake!

"No! I don't want you to waste your money on me! You know what, I'll come over to your restaurant tomorrow and bring you the money!"

"No, forget it. It's ok, really. It's on the house!"

You shake your head

"No! I feel so bad! I will definitely give you the money!"

You reach out instinctively, wanting to offer reassurance and rub his arm. Your hand lands on his biceps. Fuck, it really feels just as amazing as you imagined it would.

You should probably pull your hand away again, but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're standing right in front of hot delivery boy now, and up close, he's even sexier.

Taller than you with broad shoulders and an athletic build. Tan skin, a cute smile, pretty honey-colored eyes. He has several scars on his face, but they don't mar his prettiness at all. Instead, they make him look even more handsome somehow, a bit rougher than the sweet smile and boyish attitude let on.

Your hand is still clutching his biceps, so you feel the firm muscles flex, and it feels so delicious. A wave of desire washes over you.

You must be crazy. Maybe it's the fact that you're blood sugar is low at the moment, or maybe the delivery boy is just too sexy for his own good. Regardless of what it is, you suddenly catch yourself blurting out:

"Or is there another way to pay you?"

The way you cock your head and look up at him through your lashes with a sultry look leaves no way for speculation about what you mean. And just to make sure, you also run your finger over his biceps in a seductive way, tracing his muscles gently.

Understanding flickers over his handsome face, and he grins and nods excitedly.

"Oh! That's really sweet of you. Yeah, you can do that..."

He leans against the kitchen table, putting his fit body on display, biceps flexing so deliciously, his defined pecs and abs visible under the tight shirt he's wearing. You never salivated that much about a guy you just met. Even his voice turns you on, smooth and sweet like honey:

"So, how do we go about this? What did you have in mind, sweetie?"

He pulls the baseball cap off his head, revealing even more pastel pink hair. It's ruffled from the cap, looking so soft and pretty that you can't help but lean closer to him and run a hand through the fine pink strands.

It brings you so close to sexy Tiger Pizza boy that he can easily wrap his strong arms around you. And God, those arms feel good!

He pulls you against him, and you yelp softly as you stumble into him. Your hands instinctively come up to brace yourself against his pecs. This must be some dream! Because somehow, this whole situation seems like straight out of some porn.

You have never felt toned pecs like those beneath your fingers. You can't resist the temptation and grab them, digging your nails gently into the taut buff flesh. Hot delivery boy makes a cute sound in return.

You find your voice again too and lift your head to grin at him,

"How about I do things for you that make you happy, and you tell me when I've paid off my debt."

"You're really smart! Sounds like we have a deal. It's nice of you that you want to make me feel good, cutie. I'm such a lucky guy!"

His voice is husky, one large hand cupping your chin and thumb tracing your bottom lip slowly.

Your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest, and your pussy throbs with hot needy arousal. You've never done this before: Just have sex with a random guy out of the blue. But it's so hot, and you want him so bad!

"What would make you happy enough to pay for the salad?"

You ask before closing your lips around his thumb and slowly sucking on it while you look up into his pretty golden eyes.

"Ah fuck... hmm, do that again, but not with my thumb but with my dick."

His words make you moan in excitement. You're really gonna do this! You're gonna suck off this sexy stranger and maybe get laid by him!

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth and take a step back. Hot delivery boy uses that chance to swiftly pull his shirt off and let it fall on the floor, smiling at you in that attractive boyish way that is far too cute and sexy at the same time.

What do these Tiger Pizza people think sending someone like this to deliver their food? It should be illegal!

You let your hungry gaze travel over him. He's a sight for sore eyes. Tall and buff, tan skin looking so smooth and lickable, toned muscles everywhere, thick biceps, delicious titties with pretty nipples, and defined abs that are to die for.

Your gaze travels further down, over the mouth-watering v-line and to the bulge in his pants. His grey sweatpants are already tented in the front, doing nothing to hide how hung he is.

You get pulled out of your drooling by his laugh.

"You gonna undress me, cutie? Or do ya want me to help? Come here, I'll help you. Don't be shy, sweetie."

His big hands take yours and place them on the hem of his sweatpants. But that's all the help you need. You won't wait for a second longer to see more of this total snack in front of you. You hook your fingers in his pants and the boxers beneath and pull both down at the same time.

Your mouth falls open in a silent O. Oh fuck, he is impressive!

His fat cock slaps against his firm abs with a delicious thud. Sitting there against those fine taut abs, fully erect, thick, and long, with a pretty dark pink tip that is oozing pearly pre-cum, which sticks to his tan abs.

Maybe you were wrong. He isn't just a snack. This fine man is a full course meal!

You are on your knees before he can even reach out for you, so eager to get his gorgeous meat into your mouth.

His toned thighs feel so fucking nice under your hands, warm skin, and firm muscles, which tighten when you lean closer and blow air over the swollen dark pink mushroom head. His pretty cock twitches, begging you to suck it.

Sexy delivery boy makes another cute sound. A soft whine, breathless and needy.

"Ah! Fuck, yeah, baby, take it in your mouth and earn your salad. Will you do that for me, please?"

He doesn't have to tell you twice. Your mouth is already on him, engulfing his thick tip with your lips and looking up at him as you suck on him for the first time, tasting his heady and sweet pre-cum on your tongue.

His mouth opens in a low moan, and his strong hands tangle in your hair, grabbing it tightly. It's all the encouragement you need. You moan softly as you take him deeper into your mouth, watching him through your lashes as you bop your mouth on his gorgeous thick cock.

He fills your mouth so wholly. Such a big boy! Tiger Pizza really didn't lie when they advertised to have XXL portions now too. For the big hunger.

Oh yes, you are very hungry. Starved actually! For pizza and for this yummy delivery boy's gorgeous cock!

You can't help but hum and moan around him, so turned on by his cute moans and his strong hands tugging on your hair, getting so desperate for you. He's such a cute one!

You play with his swollen tip, taking your sweet time, kissing the pre-cum off it, licking it lightly, and teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue, asking him to give you more of his intoxicating taste.

And he does. His dick is so eager! Pre-cum keeps trickling out of his cockhead, so much that you can already tell he's a nut-a-lot-boy. Not just good at delivering pizza but also good at delivering big loads of another kind.

"Ah... fuck...feels so good! That salad is already paid for!"

He looks so pretty with his flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open dumbly, his honey eyes boring into yours with such a needy look in them that it makes your pussy throb with want.

You absolutely need this sexy delivery boy in you! You really hope he won't leave after the blow job!

His hands tighten in your hair, and he pulls on it. He pulls your head down onto his cock, rolling his hips and fucking your mouth with deep needy thrusts, catching you by surprise. But damn, you aren't complaining!

His moans turn into breathless whimpers and little mewls, and if that isn't the sweetest and hottest thing you ever heard, you don't know what is!

You can tell he's about to bust by the way his muscular thighs are shaking beneath your hands. You moan around his fat cock, eagerly awaiting his big load. But sexy delivery boy has another plan.

"I wanna nut over your pretty face! Let me cum on your face, and you'll earn the salad dressing too! Please!"

You can just make some unintelligible sound in the back of your throat, but he's already pulling out, and you groan at the loss of his thick cock inside your mouth. But only for a moment because the sight in front of you is too good to stay upset.

Tiger Pizza boy wraps a strong tan hand around his gorgeous cock and pumps it with firm, fast strokes as his moans become louder and more high-pitched, and then he yanks on your hair and pulls your face right in front of that pretty cock.

A moment later, thick warm cum hits your face in several spurts. Belatedly you open your mouth to at least get some of it on your tongue. A moan escapes your mouth as you swallow his thick milky cum and lick your lips to scoop up more of the sticky mess he made on your face.

Sexy delivery boy sighs, and another sweet smile spreads over his face as he looks down at you.

"Fuck, you look pretty. And so messy... let me help you with that."

He pulls you up and licks your face clean, hungrily lapping up his own cum. Your brain isn't functioning anymore. The only thing your mind can come up with is a silent chant of, "Thank you, Tiger Pizza! Thank you for sending me the delivery boy straight out of my dirty fantasies!"

Your dream Tiger Pizza boy is finished collecting all his cum on his tongue, and now his large hand cups your chin, and then he kisses you.

You moan in surprise and desire, obediently opening your mouth as his tongue pushes against it. He licks into your mouth eagerly, feeding his cum to you. And you take all of it happily, moaning as you lick it all off his velvety tongue.

"Hmm, you like that? I'll tell you a secret: This tastes way better than any of the salad dressings we have on our menu."

You can't help but chuckle even as you chase after his lips and tongue, stealing another heated kiss from him. How can he make you so wet and horny while also making you laugh in genuine amusement? This boy is dangerous!

The short stolen kisses turn into an entire makeout session, with his strong arms wrapped around you and his sweet tongue fucking your mouth just like his cock fucked it only a few minutes ago.

You can already feel him growing hard again where his big cock is trapped between your bodies. A relieved smile tugs at your lips. So you will probably get lucky and get more of your sexy Tiger Pizza boy, hm?

As if he was reading your thoughts, his lips wander from your mouth to your neck. Finally, you hear his hoarse voice whisper:

"Ok, you earned the salad and the dressing now. Let's fuck on the table, and you'll earn the rest of the meal."

And with that being said, hot delivery boy kicks off his sweatpants and boxers, which were pooling around his ankles, and hoists himself up on the kitchen table. He almost knocks the pizza and salad boxes down but catches them with a laugh and pushes them to the side so he can lay down.

He looks so gorgeous, laid out there for you, bracing himself on his elbows, making his biceps and abs flex so beautifully. And that cheeky grin on his handsome face is driving you crazy too!

"Did you ever ride a tiger before?"

He's so stupid but so sexy! Your legs are shaking as you get undressed. It's embarrassing how wet you are for the sexy tiger on your kitchen table.

You climb on top of him, straddling his lap, gasping when his strong hands land on your thighs and caress them gently. He has a tattoo, you realize. Two thin black lines circle his right thumb, and it somehow makes your pussy throb even more for him.

Your hands land on his toned pecs again. Fuck! His body is so yummy-looking and feels so good beneath your touch. You're beginning to suspect that sexy delivery boy is the best food Tiger Pizza has to offer.

"Gonna earn my pizza now, tiger-boy."

"Yeah, you better hurry up before it gets cold."

You wrap a hand around his thick base, pumping his cock a few times, making him gasp softly. He is sweet, helping you onto his thick cock. Strong hands grab your hips and lift you onto him.

His strength makes you moan needily as he guides you on his thick tip. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him stretch you open. God, he's such a big boy. It's so fucking good!

You can't help but gasp as you sink down on him, taking all of him into your creamy pussy. He fills you up so completely, stretching you open in the most pleasurable way.

And when you slowly lift your hips and then let yourself fall down again, it gets even better. His cock is so perfect inside you. It doesn't take any convincing for you to ride him eagerly, bouncing on his thick hard length, always guided by his large warm hands, which are exploring your body, wandering from your thighs to your ass, and kneading it firmly between his strong fingers.

You can't believe a simple order at your usual pizza place led to this: You having a sexy delivery boy between your thighs, riding him on the kitchen table in between the pizza and salad boxes he delivered. You don't want this to end.

"I earned the pizza already, right?"

Your sexy Tiger Pizza boy nods as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded honey eyes,

"You earned half of it. You can take a slice if you like."

You stop bouncing on his thick cock and lean over him to open the pizza box that's lying next to his head. The movement causes your tits to press against his face.

And hot delivery boy moans and turns his face into your tits, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on them, tongue flicking over your nipples hungrily. Your pussy is throbbing around his thick tip anytime his lips close around your nipples to suck on them. He's such a good boy, so sweet and loving!

Your hand closes around a slice of pizza, and you sit up again, gasping when your pussy slides down delivery boy's beautiful cock again.

That's gonna be a first, too: eating pizza while you have a cock inside you. His swollen tip is rubbing against your sweet spot, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

You take a bite of your pizza and chew it while slowly rocking on delivery boy's cock, rolling your eyes in pleasure,

"Mmhh, the pizza is so good! Almost as good as your cock feels, baby."

That earns you a mix between a chuckle and a moan from the sexy boy beneath you.

"Yeah? Give me a bite, too, please? I need strength so you can keep on playing with my dick since you like it so much."

You laugh softly. It's a breathless needy sound because he really feels so perfect in you and his words drive you crazy.

But you hold the pizza to his pink lips and feed him some of it as his hands tighten around your waist, and he starts to bounce you on his gorgeous cock again.

A needy sounding cry escapes your lips, followed by a row of moans and horny babbling:

"Ah! Oh... oh... fuck...Tiger Pizza is definitely my favorite!"

The pizza is forgotten, though, for the moment as your eyes close and your head lolls back as you let strong Tiger Pizza boy lift you up and down on his thick cock.

Loud moans fall from your mouth, and your fingernails dig sharply into his toned pecs as his tip is hammering against your sweet spot repeatedly, sending sparks of pure bliss through you.

You do your best to earn the other half of your pizza and ride him eagerly, clenching around his deliciously fat cock, reveling in the cute whines coming from sexy delivery boy.

Without warning, he lifts you up, pulling you off his cock with a desperate-sounding moan.

And then he presses his hard length snug against your slick pussy, and cums so prettily. Shooting his big load messily between you, over his abs and pecs. And over you too, over your stomach and most of it over your pussy. You moan loudly when it hits your clit, thick and hot.

He makes the cutest noises, high-pitched cries, and loud mewls and moans. He is so fucking gorgeous, so unashamed and sexy. His pretty face looks angelic when he bucks his hips and rubs his thick cock against you, riding out his orgasm. And fuck, he looks so good covered in his own cum!

You whine needily, struggling against his firm hold, craving more. Needing release too. Hot delivery boy opens his pretty eyes, and they meet yours, looking golden and wearing the cutest fucked out daze. A smile grazes his lips, and then he positively beams at you.

"Fuck! That was so good! Gotta take care of you too now, baby. Come here!"

He pulls you on his face, maneuvering your body so easily. And then his warm mouth hums against your wet needy pussy, and you can only gasp. He looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and you see them rolling back as if he's tasting his favorite treat in the whole world.

"Mmmh, some sweet dessert for me."

Your legs tremble heavily as his sweet tongue fucks into you, going so deep. And those soft lips find your clit, shower it with so many kisses before sucking on it gently.

God, he knows what he's doing. Pizza delivery boy is a fucking pro at this!

What he's doing to you feels almost too good. You are a quivering needy mess for him, trembling and moaning and gasping loudly. Your knees go so weak, but his strong hands hold you safely in place.

Those hands also prevent you from pulling away when the sensation of his sweet mouth becomes so intense that you almost can't take it anymore. He keeps you in place, pulls you back down on his mouth, and continues to make love to your pussy.

He holds you there until he licks and kisses a world-shattering orgasm out of you. One of those screaming-and-jerking-uncontrollably-orgasms, as your cream gushes over his pretty-boy face.

Your favorite delivery boy smiles up at you, looking so pleased as you slowly come down from the high he blessed you with. He's a real sweetheart and licks you clean, making your hips jerk lightly when his soft tongue glides over your overstimulated clit.

He helps you stand up afterwards and makes sure that your wobbly legs carry you before he cups your cheek and pulls you closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"It's safe to say that you paid off your debt. Even gave me a generous tip, I would say. Tiger Pizza says thank you. And so do I."

You both laugh softly. You grab a kitchen towel and throw it at sexy delivery boy so he can clean himself up while you pick up your clothes from the kitchen floor and get dressed again.

You turn around in time to see him shrug into his shirt. To your surprise, there are more tattoos on his back. More black lines and a majestic-looking tiger in the middle.

You raise an eyebrow. Either someone is overly affiliated with his corporation, or he really loves tigers. For a moment, you wonder how a poor student can afford all those tattoos, and your next thought is, "Is he a Yakuza member?" But the idea is so ridiculous that you almost laugh out loud.

You accompany him to the door, and finally, it occurs to you to ask:

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Just ask for Yuuji next time you order something."

He grins at you and does a mock salute, winking cheekily,

"Thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

But before he leaves, he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and adds softly:

"I hope our service was to your satisfaction. Don't forget to leave a review!"

It's a week later when you dial the Tiger Pizza number again.

You place your order. The same pizza and salad as last week, and before the guy on the other end of the line can hang up, you quickly add:

"Can Yuuji deliver that, maybe?"

There's a long stretch of silence at the other end of the line. And then comes a:

"What?"

"Um, Yuuji.. pink hair? Pretty buff?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I know who you mean. But he doesn't do deliveries usually. Wait a moment..."

"Hey Boss, someone is asking for you to deliver an order. What do I say?"

Your eyes widen almost impossibly. Boss?? That little shit!!

You hear some muffled noises, and then a familiar cute voice reaches your ear:

"Hey, so you want pizza again?"

"What the fuck, Yuuji? You never said you own Tiger Pizza! I thought you were a poor student who needed the money and would get into trouble if he came back with empty hands! I was feeling so bad about you having to pay for me!"

"Oh that... yeah, well, I told you the order is on the house, but you didn't want to listen! I never said I am just the delivery boy, did I?"

He really didn't, you realize. And suddenly, loud laughter errupts out of your mouth, and on the other end of the line, Yuuji is laughing too.

He sounds so amused when he says:

"You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I love that! How about I'll come over and deliver your order, and then I'll tell you more."

His voice drops to a low whisper, and he adds:

"Be naked when I get there, and you'll get a dessert on the house."

Thank you so much for reading! I loved this prompt! I was laughing and yearning at the same time while writing this! I hope you enjoyed it too! Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments make me happy!

Credit for the scene where reader feeds pizza to Yuuji while she rides him goes to @shameless-stan Thank you so much for giving me that amazingly sexy idea!!

The people who read my Yakuza!Sukuna AU might have noticed an easter egg. Yes, the Yuuji in this fic is actually "The young Tiger," Sukuna's younger brother from the Yakuza AU lol. Tiger Pizza serves as a money-laundering place. Yuuji just happened to be there when one of the delivery boys called in sick, so Yuuji decided to deliver an order himself. His bodyguard Megumi had a meltdown when he returned from the bathroom, and Yuuji was gone. He kept calling him and wondering why a simple delivery takes that long. Clearly, the slogan "Tiger Pizza, the fastest pizza in Tokyo" is a lie!! And reader has no idea that she fucked the Yakuza Prince. But I think Yuuji is about to tell her :)

SUGURU GETO FIC RECS // mdni!

overstimulation - @/lovelivision

perv geto - @/nanaslutt

perv geto pt2 - @/nanaslutt

perv geto catching you using the shower head - @/nanaslutt

perv geto takes you out on a date - @/nanaslutt

perv geto takes care of you while you’re sick - @/nanaslutt

rough sex with perv geto - @/nanaslutt

perv geto and panties - @/nanaslutt

using ur vibe on perv geto - @/nanaslutt

stuck in the dryer with perv geto - @/nanaslutt

ruin the friendship?! - @/lovelivision

up in the air - @/madamechrissy

the party and the after party - @/screampied

golden boy - @/tonycries

open wide! - @/classyrbf

someone better - @/muli-wam

professor geto - @/gojonanami

yoga instructor - @/sugoroo

phone call - @/kamitv

there’s someone in the woods! - @/classyrbf

period sex - @/nanaslutt

hypnotized - @/muli-wam

tryna fuck me im like okay! - @/screampied

#intro2munch101 - @/satorena

falling into familiar - @/lovesculprit

I DONT OWN ANY OF THESE FICS!! // CREDS TO THE WRITERS!! <3

can u tell i like perv geto?

He hates the rain :(

he thinks he's gonna eat him

𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚌𝚎

pairing: hockey player!katsuki x trainer!reader

warnings: cussing, tensions, bakugou kinda being very forward

notes: hockey player katsuki save me 🤤

what started as teasing texts between the star hockey player and the team's trainer turns into late-night tension and feelings neither of you want to name