Your Turn To Roll

Your Turn to Roll

Sum: It's not like your Saturday hookup is going to show up to DnD right? Right??

FWB!Geto x Reader x Nerdjo

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WC: 3.2k

TW: Angst, Love triangle-ish, yearning/miscommunication, friends with benefits, brief smut but there's emotional dissociation during it, MDNI

a/n: apologies if this is a little rough on the edges, ac broke, fridge broke, anddd work was a bit of hell this week <3 next part willl be in one of the boys pov.

You were expecting to play Dungeons & Dragons for the first time with Satoru and his friends tonight. You weren’t expecting his friend to be Geto Suguru.

Lead singer of that indie band whose lyrics you sometimes pretend don’t make you cry. Part-time model. Full-time heartache. Your… complicated situation. Your friends-with-benefits and Saturday night habit.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and there he was, casually leaning against the back wall, guitar case strapped across his back, dark locks tied in that loose, lazy way that made him even more dreamy than he already was. His eyes met yours - wine-dark irises that always gave your heart trouble - and for a second, time stalled. His lips parted, your name on the tip of his tongue, hushed and slightly disbelieving.

You felt it immediately, the flutter in your stomach. Not quite joy. Not quite dread. Just that familiar, fluttering echo of something you’ve been trying not to name for months.

Your situationship began half a year ago. Six months of quietly gaslighting yourself in the mirror. Convincing your heart that the tenderness was imagined. That you were mistaking comfort for coincidence, affection for habit. That Suguru wasn’t falling for you. That this was nothing more than a pastime for two lonely souls trying to feel full.

(You were wrong.)

Ironically, it all began on a Saturday night. Your friend had an extra ticket. You weren’t even into indie rock like that. Thought the whole “grungy stage presence and sad boy lyrics” thing was a bit overplayed. But the moment Suguru stepped onto the stage, the air shifted.

His voice was sharp and unpolished, captivating in a way that felt accidental, like he hadn’t meant to enchant anyone. A little wild and raw on the edges. When he looked out at the crowd, at the ocean of swaying bodies, outstretched arms, and flickering phone lights, his sharp gaze caught yours. Landed. Lingered.

You could’ve sworn your breath caught, shallow and stuttering. You attempted to laugh it off. Bite the inside of your cheek to hide the curve of your smile as his eyes softened - violet and velvety, like bruised twilight. There was something behind them. Something that reminded you of the stars. Perhaps it was just the way they tinkled from the stage lights.

Though he smiled back. Shoulders uncoiled. Fingers loosened around the mic stand. The whole world tilted. You thought you had imagined it. Until the end of the set when the final chord faded and he leaned down, reached for you. Pressing a rose into your palm. A real one. Its petals soft and flushed with a pale pink blush, edges slightly wilted from the stage lights.

His fingers brushed yours. Warm, calloused at the tips from all the practice you imagine he does. A look passed between you. Not staged or rehearsed like most stars. A look that didn’t speak of lust but of a crush.

You left the venue trying to rationalize it away. While your friends squealed and complained that you should have got his number. Though you were convinced it was just a gimmick. A crowd-pleaser. That’s all. But just as you rounded the corner of the street, laughing with your friend, the sidewalk cold beneath your boots -

“Wait.”

Breathless. Dark hair a little messy, falling into his eyes. Cheeks tinged with pink, like he wasn’t used to chasing anyone. Like he wasn’t used to trying. Then that smile, the soft, sheepish one that looked like it had been carved just for you.

Suguru handed you a napkin. Crumpled. From the bar, it’s logo branded in gold that clashed against the ink. His number, the edge smudged where his thumb had pressed too hard.

And that was that. Saturday nights became a tradition. Takeout dinners on mismatched plates. His guitar in the corner, never too far from reach. You curled up on the couch together, pretending whatever this was, was casual, laughing at reruns while his hand found your hip and tugged you closer during the commercial breaks.

Friends-with-benefits don’t usually hold your hand when you’re falling asleep. They don’t ask how your midterms went. They don’t kiss your shoulder in the morning before they leave, whispering that your coffee is on the table.

They don’t act like they love you.

So you told yourself it wasn’t real. That he was just being nice. That the soft smiles and gentle hands and half-sincere words were just habit. That it was easier for both of you this way - safer to pretend than to ask for something that might never be returned.

You believed it. You tried to believe it. Until your thoughts started turning on you. Until they got too loud to ignore, creeping in a few months ago and sinking their claws into you when your friends would ask, are you seeing somebody?

The act always started the same. When things were soft. When you were laughing together on the couch, sharing bites from each other’s plates. When he leaned back, arms spread, and looked at you like he belonged in your life. Where he wasn’t just a past time on a Saturday night. When his voice dipped low and teasing and press a kiss to your temple, scooping you up like you were something his. Something worth taking care of forever.

He’d carry you to his bedroom, bridal style, like he always did. As if it was always your first night together. He’d lay you on those dark, silken sheets. The expensive ones that felt cool beneath your thighs. The ones you’d never let yourself ask about. But sometimes - when the light hit just right - you wondered: If they happened to be white, would someone else’s lipstick still be stained into the fabric? Would the color be red? Or a pretty mauve? Or the kind he always complimented you on?

His mouth was on yours before you could think too long, thankfully swallowing every breath that threatened to turn into a sob. The sweet alcohol laced on his tongue tangled with yours, dancing you under a sky no one else could see. Large, calloused hands full of warmth moved across your skin, still learning you, even though you knew he wasn’t. He knew you.

He touched you like muscle memory. Like he’d been here a thousand times. Not realizing you were breaking beneath the surface. Your shirt was lifted, a sharp gasp from his lips when he would gaze down at the soft skin. The slow kiss against your jaw, then down the column of your throat, finally your collarbone, where he would bite down softly. Just enough for you to hide it in the morning.

You tried to melt into him. Into the way his arms wrapped around you, gently, like they always had. Into the warmth of his chest, into the sheets that smelled like him, but still made you wonder if they’d once held someone else. You let your body go limp, your mouth fall open, your breath hitch soft enough to pass as pleasure. Anything to let him believe this was still enough.

But you didn’t feel warm tonight. You felt cold. Hollow. There was a crack running down the center of your chest and every kiss only widened it.

Though nothing has changed. Every Saturday was the same. His touch was always the same - gentle and worshipful. Knowledgeable on how to drag his name from your throat with the curl of his fingers. Knew where to bite so that it hurt just enough to make you scold him as he brought you ice. He knew how to touch you in ways that used to make you feel wanted.

But tonight - your skin didn’t ignite. It recoiled. Tightened. Like your body finally caught up to what your heart had been screaming for weeks.

This isn’t enough anymore.

You still made the right sounds.

You still wanted this.

You still managed a gasp when he kissed your sternum. Still sighed when his mouth found that spot below your ear, sucking a bruise there like he wanted to leave a mark where no one else could see it, one you didn't have to cover. A hidden claim of sorts. You let your legs fall open for him, let your body move the way it always did, habitual, practiced, choreography you’d danced a thousand times before.

You arched your hips when he pushed inside, dragging out a moan that sounded real enough to pass.

But your eyes stayed open.

You stared past him. Past the ceiling. Past the low hum of the night around you. And in that quiet space between thrusts - where your bodies met but your hearts didn’t - your breath caught. His hands squeezed your waist, trying to mold themselves into your skin. To leave something behind. But all it did was press into a wound that had been bleeding slowly for months.

The thoughts screamed louder than your voice ever could.

The roses he gave to girls at his shows, ones with names he never mentioned afterward.

How his hand lingered on another woman’s waist as she leaned over the barricade, eyes wide with something you used to feel.

The way you waited for him every Saturday night like a dog waiting at the door, always hoping, never chosen.

You wanted to scream. To cry. To shake him and ask what am I to you?

Instead, your body gave him what it always did. He moved deeper, hips grinding into that sweet spot, pulling a moan from you that felt too real for a moment, so real it only made the ache worse.

Because pleasure didn’t mean love. And love didn’t mean anything unless it was said out loud. It only made the lie worse.

Then suddenly - your voice gathered courage as it cracked through the haze. Hoarse. Shaky. Unmistakably real:

"What is this?"

His entire body stilled, the twitch of his cock inside you. Perfect timing for important questions.

Suguru was a master of rhythm. Of pacing. Of knowing exactly when to pull and when to push. But now, he froze. Like you’d struck a chord he didn’t know existed. His breath faltered against your cheek. His eyes, always half-lidded and unreadable, widened just slightly as he looked down at you.

At the way your bottom lip trembled.

The way your lashes fluttered like you were trying not to cry. How your eyes looked up at him - pleading, glassy, afraid.

You looked like a doe staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. And he didn’t know how to lower the rifle.

Because the truth: Suguru didn’t know what this was.

He wanted to name it. Really did. He’d almost done it, a hundred times. When you curled into him on the couch, when you laughed at his terrible songs in the kitchen, when you fell asleep drooling on his chest and he stayed perfectly still just to keep you there.

He wanted to say the words. But he didn’t know how.

Suguru Geto had never been good at love. Not the kind that asked for vulnerability. That required you to give more than you take. He knew how to want. He knew how to be wanted. He knew how to hold people at arm’s length and still make them beg to stay.

But this - this aching, terrifying tenderness? This desire to keep someone, not just touch them?

It made him feel like a liar in his own skin. So he did what he always did. Softened his voice. Slowed his rhythm. Brushed his thumb along your trembling lip, pretending not to notice the way your breath hitched beneath him.

“I don’t do labels,” he murmured soft and slow. “But I’d like us to be sexually exclusive. For… safety reasons.” He tried to make it sound casual. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like it wasn’t the only way he knew how to ask you to stay.

But the moment the words left his mouth, he saw it - the shift in your face. The light dimming in your eyes. The way your expression cracked, just slightly, like you were holding back a dam that was always on the verge of breaking.

You nodded. Quiet. Wordless. You didn’t say anything else. You just wrapped your arms around his neck as he pushed deeper inside you, grateful - so pathetically grateful - that you couldn’t see the way his teeth sank into his lip, biting back all the words he couldn’t say.

Eventually, he finished with your name on his lips, his sweat-slicked chest pressed flush to yours like that closeness could somehow patch over what he’d just broken. As if holding you tighter would convince you he hadn’t just let the moment slip through his hands.

Afterward, you curled into him as he tucked a blanket over the two of you. You both pretended that you were okay. Words left unsaid.

You didn't cry, however, your breath caught. You swallowed the knot lodged in your throat. You knew he heard the sound because the arm draped around your waist flinched.

He didn’t say a word. Suguru just laid there, eyes shut, forcing himself to remember the way you looked the night he met you and hating himself for not being brave enough to love you out loud.

Now here you are. Standing in the hallway of Gojo Satoru’s shockingly nice apartment building.

The boy with the guitar stands beside you, casual as his fingers move to brush the small of your back. Like he’s not pretending you didn’t spend last weekend in his bed. As if he hasn’t gone completely quiet on you since you brought up wanting to be exclusive.

And in front of you: the nerd boy. Satoru. Pink cheeks. Bright blue eyes wide and blinking like he can’t believe you’re actually standing there. His gaze flickers to Suguru’s hand. To the smile you offer him. And back again - he’s trying not to connect the dots and failing spectacularly.

You didn’t know they were friends. How could you? Suguru never talked about the rest of his life. Never gave you names, just vague details and late-night stories with no context. No connections.

But you see it now, in the way Satoru pales when he realizes who you’re with. In the way Suguru leans a little closer, voice smooth as honey. “You didn’t tell me your new player was cute.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh… thanks.” A blush creeps up your neck. You hate that it does. Unfair of your body to betray you.

Satoru’s laugh bursts out of him way too loud. A small voice crack before his hand flails mid-wave. “Y-Yeah! I mean! She's great! I mean, yeah, you - dice - yes!” Instead of making a bigger fool of himself. He leads you both inside, still babbling, tripping over his own feet every time he catches your gaze.

Suddenly, you’re wrapped in warmth. The apartment smells like vanilla and cedarwood. There’s a candle burning on the counter. The lights are low and cozy. The snack spread is ridiculous - labels everywhere, little notes in Satoru’s messy handwriting: “Nut-free!” “Gluten-free just in case!!” “Vegan??? Maybe???”color-coded bowls with tiny serving tongs (there's even a sign for no cross contamination). He bought everything you could imagine.

The knot in your chest loosens just a little. Your heart stutters. You shush it. This isn't for you. You're just a guest in the campaign. That's all. However, this place feels… safe. Like someone cared enough to make sure everyone would feel welcome.

You settle at the table beside a woman with tired eyes and a cigarette behind her ear - Shoko, you learn. She flags you down with a muttered, “Thank god it’s not a sausage-fest tonight.”

You manage a laugh. Half forced. Suguru chuckles beside you and drapes an arm over the back of your chair, muttering about how it's cramped here tonight. Your heart does a little somersault, even if your brain is exhausted.

Satoru takes his seat at the head of the table.

And oh, he’s glowing. Flipping through notes he already memorized. Fixing his glasses. Glancing up at you every few seconds. You catch him once, and he practically short-circuits, gives you a lopsided grin like he just rolled a nat 20 in charisma.

You smile back. He looks away so fast he nearly knocks over his water. (You found out through Shoko, he cannot drink for the life of him). Though, he gets up way too fast to make you a “potion.” A drink themed after your character. He even drew a little sketch on the napkin. You try not to let your face get too warm when he hands it to you. While Suguru's fingers are calloused, Satoru's are soft.

Then he dims the lights slightly and cues up a playlist labeled “Tavern (For When She Shows Up, Delete This Note Later).” He didn't. Shoko snorted.

The table quiets. He clears his throat. Suddenly, he’s in it. The way his voice shifts into something lower, theatrical, full of magic and momentum. You’re not sure if it’s the candlelight or the way he describes the flicker of lanterns and muddy roads, but for a second, you actually feel like you’ve stepped into another world.

You look at him - really look.

And you don’t see the flailing boy from the bookstore. You see someone who built this world from the ground up. Who put pieces together just so he could offer them to you.

His eyes meet yours again. A playful, shy smile curls at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s your turn to roll.”

And maybe it is. Maybe this is where the campaign begins. Where you begin. Where you stop hoping someone will choose you in the quiet…and start letting yourself be seen in the light.

tag list: @just-pure-trash, @7haze, @nevvynev, @linaaeatsfamilies, @altgojo, @beereadzzz, @spn-obsession, @bludwrite

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More Posts from Katsukijo and Others

katsukijo

1 month ago

helloo i really like your write and i was thinking about Bakugou’s foreing gf from latin america, Brazil or another? And suddenly she says some expressions in her mother language like “katsuki, vem aqui!” (Katsuki, c’ mere) or even in text messages like “cadê você.” (where are u) and be gets so confused. And one day he randomly comes to reader and asks “could you say what the heck these thing means?” So reader explains some of them to him.

thanks!

having to explain your phrases to katsuki

Helloo I Really Like Your Write And I Was Thinking About Bakugou’s Foreing Gf From Latin America, Brazil

in the common room, you were hanging out with some of the girls in one section, and the boys were separated in the other. they talked about their own interests as you talked about yours, engaging in gossip that mina heard from eijiro a couple of days ago. apparently, eijiro liked someone but was too scared to tell her, and kept it to himself until he eventually told mina.

when the girls found that out, they had the idea for you to ask katsuki because he and the redhead were best friends, even if he didn’t admit it. reluctantly, you agreed, but your boyfriend was amazing at keeping secrets. it was unlikely for him to tell you his best friend’s crush unless eijiro directly permitted him to.

so you shouted across the room, “katsuki, vem aquí!” and held your hands around your mouth.

the blonde immediately puckered up and turned his back from you to the boys in front of him. what the hell did you just say? he blankly stared at you until you made a ‘come here’ motion with your hands around, ushering him to get closer to you.

he sat on the couch next to you, where you sat criss-cross, then you laid your legs over his and placed your hand on his bicep, pulling him closer to you. he tried to hold back a smirk to no avail, and eventually gave up as you looked up at him with sweet eyes.

“hey, mina told me that eijiro likes someone. do you know who it is?” you asked, showing off a smile as the other girls giggled and watched the two of you talk.

he stayed silent for a minute before glancing away, then looking back at you. he leaned his face closer to yours and lowly spoke into your ear, “i know but i can’t tell anyone.”

once he pulled away, you whined and pouted, “katsukiiiii!”

you then leaned back and lightly kicked his thigh, when he gently grabbed your ankle and pulled you closer to him with ease. he whispered, “come to my room later and i’ll give you a few hints.”

a gasp left your mouth and you almost violently nodded, softly kicking your feet in excitement. he kissed your cheek then returned to his group, where he stayed quiet for most of the conversation.

but once the sky became dark, and your classmates began to yawn and even nod off, you decided it was time to go to bed. you didn’t see the blonde anywhere in the room, so you sent him a quick message.

katsuki lay on his bed, scrolling through his phone when he saw a text from you reading, ‘cadê você??????’ ‘katsukiiiii’ ‘answer me’ all within a couple of seconds. he scoffed, he didn’t even know what you meant by the first message. hopefully you would just follow him into your room once he picked you up. he grinned and laughed to himself before standing up and making his way to the common area, where he expected you to be.

after you waved to your friends goodbye, some of them still stayed in the common room, while others left to sleep, a warm hand suddenly engulfed yours. you rubbed the rough hand, quickly realizing it was katsuki’s. he dragged you to his room without a second thought and placed his hand on your back to guide you.

then you jumped onto your boyfriend’s soft bed and sprawled your limbs across it, you asked, “so, who does kirishima like?”

“you know her.” he stated, making your jaw drop.

“no fucking shit, katsuki! who the hell would he like that i don’t know of?!” you retorted, looking back at his muscular form and smirk on his face.

“that’s all you’re getting, whiny.” he took his shirt off and crawled into bed with you before asking, “what the hell were you even saying earlier?”

you turned to your lover and held eye contact before swinging your leg across his hip, “what d’ya mean?”

“you said it two times back in the lounge area then you texted me another one. the first one was… vem something, and,” he pulled his phone from out of his pocket and scrolled up in your chats, holding one of your messages, “this one.” it read cadê você.

you chuckled, “kats, i thought you already knew what those meant! you always did exactly what i told you to!” he had a scowl on his face and placed his hand on your stomach, trying to hide his face without seeming shy. “the first thing i said was vem aquí. i’ll confess, i got a bit agitated when you didn’t come over to me immediately.”

he guessed, “so it means ‘come here’?”

“oh, yes, good job, my boy!” you coddled him and placed his face in your hands, making him grunt and fake fight back, although he secretly loved it. of course, he would never admit it. “the second one means ‘where are you?’. that may have been a little more difficult for you though.”

he grumbled and turned his back to you, “whatever.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms and legs around him and stated, “eu te amo,” then grinned into his hair.

“what does that one mean?” he mumbled, sleep evident in his voice.

“it means i love you.”

he let out a small, “tch,” before turning back around and placing his face in the crook of your neck, trying to hide the blush that was forming on his face. he kissed your neck three times, his own way of saying, ‘i love you.’

this was super fun to make, i hope you like it! hope i got the last translation right, too! im so glad you like my writing btw ❤️

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katsukijo

3 months ago

some characters just deserve a wife and kids

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katsukijo

4 months ago

me and you

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katsukijo

4 months ago

everyone always asks “what’s your book about?” but they never ask “how’s your mental health after rewriting the same chapter 12 times?”

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katsukijo

4 months ago

spider geto

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katsukijo

3 weeks ago

If Bakugou had a girlfriend it’d be the same equivalent to Inuyasha and Kagome’s relationship .

You and him go back and forth all the time but you still have an unconditional love for each other.

That’s how it was in middle school, you knew who he was and he knew who you were but you guys never hung out. That was until you both ended up at UA.

Besides Izuku, you were the only two that knew eachother. So it was natural you guys became ‘the power duo’ of class 1-A, but what came from it was a WHOLE lot of bickering and yelling.. and some of it was over stupid things.

“Here iida, for helping me on my test!” You gave the broad formal classmate the last of your chips as you passed him at lunch.

“Thanks Y/N-“ he tried to give his thanks but before he could a figure crept behind you and yanked the bag right out of his hands. “Now what do you think you’re doing giving four eyes MY chips.” Bakugou said gripping the bag of spicy turtle chips making a crumpling sound.

“Bakugou-kun you’re breaking the chips, plus you were the one who denied to help me in the first place.” You said giving him a glare as you try and get the bag of chips back, but failing as he held them above his head. “No, these are the chips you get from the Korean store, I’m not giving these up.” He said walking away casually still holding the bag above his head.

“Uh- sorry iida.” You bow your head down as an act of apology and he waves it off. “No need to thank me, I’m just glad you passed.” He said, “rumor has it you and Bakugou have been friends for awhile.” He said trying to start conversation but also wanting to know what history you and Bakugou had.

“Uh, I guess. We kinda just know each other.” You shrug like it was nothing; but it wasn’t nothing.

You and Bakugou had a complicated relationship, to a point where you didn’t know if you guys were going out or just friends. Friends. The word tugged at your heart as your smile faded. “Well.. I’ll see you in class then Y/N- San.” He waved his stiff hand and caught up with the rest of the ‘Deku-squad.’

as you made your way back to your dorm you felt your phone vibrate in the coat pocket of your uniform to see a text from Bakugou.

Katsuki !!:

Meet me in front of the dorms.

You were confused by the random text but figured it was only him returning the charger he burrowed from you. I know shocking.

You:

okay !

You changed out of your uniform and walked outside to see a bundle of fluffy blonde hair and a set of angry eyes watching the door like a hawk waiting for you.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked sincerely. “I wanted to give this back.” He out stretched his arm that held the same bag of chips from earlier. “Uh, it’s okay..” you said softly as you pushed the bag into his chest. “I know how much you like them, I’ll just give Iida something else for my thanks!” He tensed at the name. “Tch.”

Both of you stood there for a while, looking at anything but eachother before you spoke up.

“Katsuki. What are we?” He stood there wide-eyed, trying to gather his thoughts. “Uh-“ he tried to talk but stopped. “I mean, we hang out all the time and when we’re not we’re either texting or calling which is unlike you. You never talked to me in middle school unless you needed to but once we both came to UA you shifted completely and now I’m the only person you seem to hang out with and I’m not forcing you too..I just..” you sighed, picking at your nails as you tried to come up with the right words but he spoke up.

“Y/n.. I- fuck. I’m no good at words. I started hanging out with you Because I knew you from middle school, but I never really knew who you were until I started hanging out with you.” He grabbed the back of his neck with his unoccupied hand. “I never knew.. how cool you were.” His cheeks lit up with a light pink. “I never knew..” he looked at you in the eyes, but this time his eyes were soft. They said something words couldn’t and it made your breath hitch.

“I- just forget it-“ he tried to walk away but was stopped by your gentle grip on his forearm. “Dont.. don’t walk away.” Your heart now beating heavy with anticipation. “Just confess you idiot.” You let out a soft chuckle.

He grabbed the hand that grabbed his forearm and held it in his own and put it to his heart. “Y/n.. I like you.” He gave a serious look, but the seriousness was wiped from his face as the blush on his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.

You laughed at him. Which turned the pink blush into an embarrassed red. “I like you too Katsuki.” You continued to giggle. “You suck woman.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “ and you swallow” you teased grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dorms.

After that, going back and forth was pretty much eachother’s way of flirting. Oh and that bag of chips, you ended up just giving them to Iida in the end telling Katsuki it could be a date you guys have to go visit the local Korean store.

(Sorry for the long fic, I just had to jot down the idea before I forgot about it completely. Honestly got the idea from when Kagome was giving koga her chips and Inuyasha freaked out. 😭😭)

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katsukijo

1 month ago

undertale reference

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katsukijo

3 months ago

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1

summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?

warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!

word count : 1.03k

you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.

"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.

he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.

"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.

he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.

your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.

but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.

"I'd like that."

"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"

you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.

As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.

gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!

"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"

"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.

"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.

you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.

"ah she came back for round two?"

you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.

"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"

"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.

gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"

"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.

"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"

"nah."

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katsukijo

4 months ago

Secret Santa For @cryptid-juzou !! They Had Maid!Chuuya Among The Requested Prompts And I Immediately

Secret Santa for @cryptid-juzou !! They had maid!Chuuya among the requested prompts and I immediately jumped at that. I really hope you like it! (Some bonuses that didn't make the cut) Thanks to @bungostraydogs-secret-santa for organizing this!

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katsukijo

7 months ago