Be My Mistake ┌ꜱʜᴏᴋᴏ x ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ┐

Chapter Five

•𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩-𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙.•

"How long have you been waiting for this huh?" he demanded, grabbing her by her jaw, sinking his face in the crook of her neck. He was so close to her, that he could almost feel the carotid pulsating beneath that thin layer of her perspiring skin, as the tip of his nose gently grazed over it. But that nearly wasn't enough for him. To him, she was a prey let loose, amongst the wild and he was the hunter. He was leaving no stone unturned until he finally relished her screams.

Satoru gasped inhaling that fruity scent radiating from her. Her back pinned against the wall, his chest pressing roughly against her breasts, leaving little to no room to breathe.

"Not any longer than you," she sneered, trying to assert dominance with the cocky tone in her words, knowing full well it was all in futile attempts. She knew she had no power over him whatsoever.

"I don't do waiting sweetie," he replied, slowly loosening his grip on her face, taking his hands down to her chest. "I take what's mine," he let out a peal of brief haughty laughter, causing a chill to run down her spine. "Tell me, Fubuki, aren't you mine?" he whispered taking his face closer to her ear.

"I... " she stuttered, barely forcing her words to spill out of her lips. Her heart beats elevated and her breath sunk, struggling to form a plausible sentence.

"Say it... " Satoru ordered, looking straight into her eyes. Cloudy blue darting onto her muddy orange vision. Her mouth was agape as if begging for a slight touch of his lips. If only he'd give into her that easy.

Legend has it, that most men have an ego more significant than their dicks. But Satoru Gojo had a reputation to have got it all. Even though his personality's got an emotional range of a teaspoon, at least he's got the eyes and cock to compensate for that.

The first time Fubuki Jenkins entered the gates of Jujutsu High in her Prada boots, she thought it'll all be the same here; guys falling over her on their feet, women sniffing for a slight chance to befriend her, or some of them even having a crush on her. She thought just like in her last school back in America, she'd get whatever she wants, anything or anyone she picked with her pretty little manicured fingers with the fragile press-on nails, would be hers.

The first thing she wanted was Satoru Gojo. The white-haired casanova of Jujutsu High with his blue eyes so god damn perfect, some would say at first glance, that all of the seven oceans could drown in them; if only he himself were that deep. She did everything in her power to get Satoru's attention. She even bought a perfume with the sweetest of smells after she got to know about his affinity for sweets.

Much like everyone else, she was living proof, of how we are almost always obsessed with the things we can't have. The moment he first laid his eyes on her, he was set to be the first thing Fubuki won't get to keep forsakes. Not the way she wanted him.

Nearly all the second years got to know how angry just that made her. Because it seemed like, Satoru already had his heart spoken for-

"Say it!!" he retorted. 

"I... I am yours," she finally gasped, locking her eyes with him. She knew this was gonna be the end of her, but there was no going back now that Satoru clutched the rim of her shirt.