Satoru Gojo

You were a celebrity, a favorite of the public, attracting the attention of both boys and girls, as well as the media. Of course, such fame has brought with it crowds of fans.

and the interview you were invited to was nothing special. the interviewer asked questions you knew by heart, and pre-prepared answers rolled out of your mouth. Nothing new. during a dialogue, although more of a monologue from a guy who was enthusiastically talking about the new movie you starred in, causing you to nod with a tight smile on your face, only nodding occasionally as your eyes glanced briefly at the clock. time seems to deliberately flow as slowly as possible.

and gods, it's finally over. you were trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, when suddenly that same interviewer stopped you asking for your number with a smirk on his face, and you were so tired that you just gave him this number so that he would leave you quickly, and your boyfriend, who was your bodyguard and who all this time stood on the sidelines, watching this with a blank face, was, to put it mildly, dissatisfied with what he saw. Goj didn't say anything then, but he intended to remind you of what he saw this evening.

and here you are lying on the bed in your apartment, your legs are wide apart and Satoru’s hands are holding them tightly in this position. his fingers practically dug into the soft flesh, leaving behind faint marks as he roughly slammed into you. wet, obscene sounds of skin hitting skin, mixed with moans and occasional sobs that escaped, filled the room. his blond hair stuck to his damp forehead as he leaned down to your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple, biting it gently, never taking his eyes off your face.

Gojo finally pulled away from your chest and brought his lips to your ears. “This guy would probably like to see you like this, wouldn’t he, baby?” he whispered in a low, breathless voice, squeezing his thighs a little tighter, becoming furious at the thought that someone else would be able to see you, since only he was allowed.

his pace slowed down a little when your phone, lying on the nightstand, rang and the name of that persistent interviewer appeared on its display. Without stopping fucking you, he straightened up a little, reaching for the phone. “Oh, it seems your friend is calling you. Talk to him, you don't want to upset him, do you?" Satoru said, picking up the phone and holding the phone to your ear. "Come on, sweetheart"