Work Text:
More.
One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.
It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.
When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.
Knock. Knock.
You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.
Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.
The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.
Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his insistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”
“Go away, Satoru.”
Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.
He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.
“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.
“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”
“Yeah, can you go now?”
“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.
It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.
“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”
“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”
“I don’t need your help.”
He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.
“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”
“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”
“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”
Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”
He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”
“Nah.”
“Oo, that’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.
“I guess.”
He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.
The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.
Satoru.
Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.
You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”
“Sure.”
He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.
Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.
And he’s your step brother.
Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”
“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in.
“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.
“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.
“It’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”
“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”
“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.
You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”
“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”
You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.
“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and licks like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.
The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.
The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.
You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.
Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”
“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.
The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.
“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.
You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.
His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets. Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“S-shut up-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”
His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, you little cunny milking him for all he’s worth. He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.
“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”
Your face drops in horror, ripping the blindfold off your head, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”
He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.
Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.