Fisherman Aizawa. But like deadliest catch fisherman. Grumbly sleep deprived scruffy captain and shit just keeps going wrong with his ship so heâs constantly on edge too. Just thoughts while watching deadliest catch đ«Š just an idea⊠hear me outtttt
your erotica doesn't need to align with your principles. you can find something hot and not believe it should be the way of things. you can play out dynamics in kink that shouldn't be replicated societally. what gets you going is not an indictment of your character
Tumblr puritans when the speculative author writes fiction depicting a hypothetical interaction between characters who don't exist which didn't happen in reality
I know weâre all going to builder gel or polygel nails but I miss the REEK of acrylic nails so bad! Walking in and instantly catching that high whewwww nothing like it
â ËïœĄâàšà§Ë Satoru Gojo Long Fics Ëàšà§â ËïœĄâ
All of my Satoru Gojo fics over 20k
Time after Time- Finished- Wc: 103k- (Ao3) CEO Gojo x fem assistant reader, you're his lead assistant and you put in your two weeks notice, because your boss is a grade A ASS- so Gojo pulls out ALL the stops to keep you. Smutty/fun/sweet - my first Gojo fic
Take Me Home Tonight - Finished-Wc: 136k- law professor Gojo/x law student (A03) you hook up with a sexy white haired man, only to be in his class two months later!?!? How can you handle falling in love with your professor! Very witty/lots of banter, law setting-smutty and sweet
Fractured Desires - Finished- explicit- wc 95k (angsty/ toxic/smutfest) Ao3 You're Suguru Geto's girl, and he decides to 'share you'- which becomes a fkn MESS, when you find out that Satoru has wanted you all along, and Suguru isn't who you think he is. (Starts off as Sugu/reader- Extremely explicit-yandere asf)
Silent Serenades - Ongoing- wc 146k - You are promised to Marry the handsome Duke Gojo, you're the diamond after all. Only thing is, he HATES you. Now you're stuck in a loveless marriage that eats you from within. Angsty arranged marriage AU, 1800scruel Duke Gojo- AO3
Healing Hearts -Dr. Gojo/intern-ongoing- 55k You're an exhausted intern, living with your three friends, Maki, Toge and Yuuta, and you just so happen to be Dr. Gojo's intern. - or as you soon call him 'Dr. Hojo' he seems perfect, but he's hiding a dark secret. Hospital setting - light angst Ao3
Losing Control Now- Mafia AU, nororious mobster Satoru Gojo becomes obsessed with you., the pretty bartender- but he finds you have your own secrets, and plans to save you at all costs. Lots of smut, Satoru being obsessed, mafia themes -ongoing-22.5k Ao3
Took You Like a Shot - You and Satoru Gojo (fratboy/fuckboi Gojo) have been rivals for all of college, right up until the last day of school, where you end up under him and... pregnant somehow!? shit.-Newest WIP- WC- 19k - gonna be emotional and has a lot of humor/pregnant reader
Mini Series
Would you come with me? -You have been Satoru's best friend forever, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. Three parts, fluffy and hella smutty, friends to lovers- Finished- three parts 22k
Hands down one of the best Satoru Gojo longfic masterlists. A must read for any Gojo Girlie. Her short Gojo fics are divine as well! There is literally something for everyone here! I love all her Gojo's so much! @madamechrissy Makes me laugh, cry and ovulate. She truly is a multifaceted and tremendously gifted writer. You don't want to miss out on these fics, trust me bb's â€ïž
If u want to write a story about a character thatâs just you but hotter with a dark twisted backstory and magical powers and a pet falcon or something, I think u should just go ahead and do that. Whoâs gonna stop you? The government?? Fuck the police.
summary â gojou satoru is the best f1 racer of the new generation racing for tokyo jujutsu racing, one of the best teams in the world. everything changes when you uncover his deepest secrets that no one knows about, even those closest to him for your silly little journalism project. but the truth is, you've got a wicked mind and the attitude to match, but so does gojou. drugs, money, love, sexâwhat could possibly go wrong?
word count â 6.3k
warnings/tags â nsfw content (minors dni). explicit sexual content, age difference, alcohol use, angst, drugs, money, formula one AU gojou satoru, journalist!reader, ooc gojo, heavy angst, + more to be added
CHAPTERS.
one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven // twelve // thirteen // fourteen // fifteen + epilogue
Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)
On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance
words: 4.7k
content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), smut, unprotected p in v, oral m-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation
18+ only
[9:37 pm] Are you busy?
[9:38 pm] Aw. Kamo family party not as lively as youâd hoped?
[9:38 pm] Just answer the question, Gojo.
[9:38 pm] Gojo is busy. Satoru on the other hand can be persuaded.Â
âAsshole,â you mutter under your breath, scanning the room again for anyone who might be taking an interest. Of course, no one seems to even remember youâre here at all..Â
[9:45 pm] Yes or no
[9:45 pm] Whatâs in it for me?
[9:45 pm] Youâre joking
[9:46 pm] With all my options, why do I choose the Kamo bride tonight? Hmm?Â
[9:50 pm] Youâre a piece of shit.Â
[9:51 pm] HARSH!! Youâve convinced me. Send me the address.Â
[9:52 pm] Oh and tell daddy hi for me!
âFuck you!â you hiss under your breath, sighing as you toss your phone back into the small bag you were carrying.Â
Your history with Satoru Gojo has always beenâŠtumultuous. It started in high school, as the daughter of the principal of the Kyoto branch, you sought him to get back at your father, Principal Gakuganji, and heâd been more than happy to oblige for the same exact reason. Exchange events had been less about competition and more about the time stolen in dorm rooms and behind buildings, far more than goodwill being spread.Â
It had all come crashing down the day you turned 18.Â
Not that there had been an air of commitment between either of you, but whatever physically beneficial relationship that had sprung up and the hopes that it would be more frequent after graduation were wiped away with one sentence.Â
âYouâre getting married,â your father had said, the Kamo boy from a year ahead of you smiling at his side.Â
That was the day youâd realized youâd been nothing but a pawn from the day youâd been born. Despite being a Jujutsu sorcerer, youâd begged to go to university, prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could. Gojo had frequented your dorm room there, too, arriving at your door with his cock already stiff, you barely made it inside before you were on your knees, pulling him into your throat.Â
Those years were as close as you got to happy.Â
The Kamo clan had taken possession of you two years ago, and while meetings with Gojo became less frequent, they also grew more hostile. Satoru Gojo wasnât known for his kind, warm nature, and his frustration in losing his favorite toy was on full display whenever youâd been able to get away from lackluster events and days of learning customs you couldnât care less about; you were too weak to end it entirely with him. He made you feel too good, it was a reprieve from the life you faced day in and day out. But maybe it was just a different breed of nightmare.Â
As things continued, you realized it wasnât actually you that got his cock throbbing. It had always been the satisfaction of how much your father would hate Gojo being in your presence, never mind your bed. You felt the same, being with a man your father loathed above all else was just as thrilling to you. And now, on the evening of your arranged wedding, youâre standing outside a small sushi cafe in a misting rain waiting for a ride to the lavish Tokyo apartment Gojo uses for one thing only. You canât help but wonder how many others have seen those barren walls.Â
Typically, he sends a taxi service, letting you know the details of the car to look out for, but itâs been twenty minutes and youâve received no information.Â
[10:19 pm] You better not have fucking bailed on me.Â
You hate how the thought makes your cheeks burn and your chest hollow in what you try to convince yourself is anger, but you know the truth.Â
âWhy would I bail on you!?â The sound of his voice yelling from his downed window has the muscles in your shoulders loosening. âYou look ridiculous. What is that makeup?â
âFuck you,â you spit at him, rounding the car to slide into the passenger seat, âJust go.â
âWell, arenât you tense? Whatâs aâmatter? Already hating marital bliss?â
The disregard he displays about your impending doom digs under your skin. Your bladed gaze shoots over to him, youâd just noticed he was wearing his white bandages over his eyes still, the high collar of his uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the stretch of his throat youâd be decorating soon.Â
âWere you working?â you ask, the hour a little strange for a teacher to still be on the clock.Â
âUh-huh,â he practically purrs, flicking through the songs quietly humming from the radio.
Well, that explains why he was the one that rolled up to get you. However, more dangerously you consider that heâd dropped what he was doing for you.Â
âSeriously, what are you wearing?â he asks again with a chuckle.
âShut the fuckââ your retort was cut short by a long, slender thumb pressing down on your tongue, your lips locking around the digit and sucking instinctively.Â
âIâm gonna tear it to shreds.â The whisper is almost menacing, and your core throbs at the husky tone and malicious intent.Â
When youâd texted him, you knew tonight would be different. Tomorrow youâll be signed away. Not that it will change your arrangement, at least you had no intention for it to, but it wonât be the same. It couldnât be. Youâll be princess to the Kamo clan, officially, and while you find pockets to escape now, soon there will be hurdles even Satoru Gojo canât leap over.Â
âDid you have any trouble?â he asks as the car comes to a smooth halt at a red light, your lips pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before he can pull it away completely and check whatever alert had just pinged his phone.Â
âNo,â you answer, turning your attention out the window.
In fact, the lack of resistance had given you pause. When youâd told your father you wanted to head home, he hadnât even asked why. Youâd already prepped the excuse of a headache and buzzing nerves, but heâd waved you off and returned to his conversation with one of the many Jujutsu society higher-ups in attendance. You hadnât even bothered to check in with the man you were set to marry in just over twelve hours. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran.
The apartment is pitch black when you arrive, Gojo forgetting to turn the lights on as he throws his things onto the kitchen counter and heads straight to his fridge, grabbing a glass bottle of soda and sending the metal top skipping across the floor. Your eyes canât help but try and follow it, even in the dark, the thud of Gojoâs hands slamming against the door behind you echoing in each of your ears. Heâs centimeters away, his sweet strawberry breath huffing out against your lips, and your lungs seize up, your chest shaking with traitorous little gasps. Itâs been almost ten years of this, and still, he leaves you quivering.
âI know what you wanna do.â His voice is smoother than melted chocolate, sweet and rich.
âYou donât know shit.â Maintaining this ruse is futile when your voice is trembling, but you try anyway.
âOh? I think I know you best of all.â
Heâs right, and the fact that he knows that has your stomach knotting. As he flashes that cocky, toothy grin thereâs no helping the relief that floods through your body. The night had been tense, youâd been nothing but a stranger in a strange land, sat down and expected to abide by customs and etiquette that made you sick. It was a hierarchy, and you were the very bottom rung of the ladder, only there to push the others around you up higher towards their goals.
âYou called me, remember?â he croons, backing away enough to have your body following his on pure instinct, âSo come and take what you want. Iâm all yours.â
For one last night. The leather of his belt is smooth as you grip it with one hand, yanking him back into you. He has a significant height advantage, but when you seek his lips heâs already curled himself down, the kiss you find solace in waiting for you. Itâs sugary and warm, the soft cloth of his eye-covering pressing against your forehead as his palms swallow your sides whole, heâs learned the intricacies of your preferences in ways no one else ever would. He knows to tease you until your fingers thread through his hair, a gentle tug the welcome invitation to swipe his tongue along your swelling lower lip, but heâs also well aware you wonât take that step, but itâs one heâs always happy to leap into.
Snowy, white strands fall over the back of your hand as the bandages around his eyes loosen and drape over your noses, your nails still raking through the buzzed hair of his undercut and you know if you dared open your eyes, the infinite blue that the sky itself envied would greet you. Both your fingers and his work to pull the troublesome fabric free, his succeeding before threading with yours and pinning your hand above your head, the fraying edges of the cloth dancing against your hair as his pace picks up.Â
Every inch of your body burns, the tight material of your assigned outfit suffocating and the room growing seemingly smaller around the broad shoulders in front of you. All you can smell is him as you search for the zipper of his jacket with your free hand, pulling it open and making quick work of the buttons of his overpriced shirt. His skin is smooth and cool to the touch, the peaks and valleys of his defined torso solid beneath your brushing fingertips. It takes all your concentration to keep up with him, heâs almost frantic, pushing you further and further into the wood behind you as his chest heaves until suddenly he pulls away.Â
Youâre left cold and buzzing in anticipation, his predatory gaze burning through you from where he stands just out of reach.Â
âI want that off,â he mutters, low and menacing, his teeth gnashed together, and you know he isnât talking about your clothes.
Heâs faster than you are, his pointer finger and thumb gripping the gold ring on your left hand and tugging, the ping of the metal skittering across the floor after his haphazard toss in sync with the speed at which he claims your mouth once again. You knew he could feel it catching in his hair and grazing over his chest. Typically, you remembered to take it off prior to even stepping foot in his building, but today the surprise of Gojo himself pulling up to get you had sent everything out of whack.Â
âSatoru,â you sigh, his appreciative groan from hearing his given name falling from your lips hitting where he was currently mouthing at your throat, âSatoruâŠâ
You sound pathetic and you can't care less, heâs eating your blatant need for him out of the palm of your hand. He always does, and you wonder if heâs like this with everyone else who gets to see these walls.Â
When your hand shoots to his belt, undoing the buckle and finding the button and zipper thatâs keeping him contained you can feel the stretch of his smile against your neck.
âI win,â he croons, tugging his arms free of his sleeves as you push his pants and boxers down to his ankles.Â
âI volunteer,â you correct as you sink to your knees, his finger keeping your chin in place and eyes on him as you drop down.Â
Satoru usually won this little tradition, his hand diving between your legs first and claiming himself the âloserâ as he spread your thighs wide and worked you on his tongue until heâd had his fill. Tonight, however, belonged to you, his cock thick and long as you ran your tongue along the underside, greedily collecting the small pearls that had already begun to leak from the tip.Â
âLookit me,â he slurs, mouth already hanging open as you keep his flushed head sitting on your tongue, âGood girl.â
His thumb rubs reverent circles on your jaw as he spits along his ridge, your mouth immediately locking around him and sucking him clean. With each bob of your head you take him a little deeper, your lips loudly suctioning around him as his head falls back in bliss and his shoulders drop from their tensed state. He sighs in relief, his thighs flexing beneath your hands when your throat constricts around the intrusion, your hair quickly knotting in his grip as he takes two steps forward, pinning you against the door.Â
âCome on, princess,â he urges, pinching your chin, âdonât be a tease. Gag it down. All of it.â
Itâs times like these when you remember the man towering above you is just a few criteria short of being a monster. Spoiled rotten and all-powerfulâthere is nothing the world could offer that was out of his reach. His confidence is otherworldly and earned, there is no task he isnât proficient in, and in turn, youâve always worked hard to stand toe-to-toe with him in all things. Even this.Â
A wicked grin stretches across his face as he watches your expression morph into one of ire and determination, he knows how to push every button and pluck every string and heâs well aware of it. With your head firmly in his grasp, his hips start to move, his cock sliding over your tongue like silk as you try to force back the urge to wretch it out. Your eyes burn, tears sliding down your cheeks and mingling with the drool coating the lower half of your face, and he doesnât relent, nor do you ask him to.Â
âThere we go,â he praises, yet your nose still hasnât touched the thin patch of white curls thatâs still an inch away, âFixed that hideous makeup.â
He can tell that you need air, and he pulls himself free while still keeping you pinned by the hair, a string of spit connecting your gasping, swollen lips to the shining tip of his dick. Heâs chuckling to himself at your haggard state, your lungs burning as they pull in the air that tastes like him. He bends, forcing himself to your eye level, his free hand thumbing at your gaping mouth.
âYouâre such a whore,â he whispers, and it sounds like a compliment in his tooth-rotting, sweet tone, and he spits once again straight onto your tongue.Â
âPrickâŠâ you cough after swallowing down what heâd left, his high-pitched giggle echoing in the room as he stands back to his full height.Â
âWell, you donât come here cause Iâm nice to you. Do you? Open up.â
Your response is a swift obeying of his command.Â
âYou like this kind of attention,â his tone is lower now.
Once again, you have to resign to the fact that heâs right. Thereâs no warning now, no preparation, just his cock slamming into your throat, and your eyes snap shut as you breathe through your nose. He reaches down to feel the bulging of his thrusts, being careful to not pinch off whatever airflow you may have just yet, his hum of approval shooting straight to your throbbing core.Â
âAnd only I give it to you,â he finishes, your tongue laving out against his sack drawing out a whine, âStay still.â
He knows exactly what you can take, moving his hips at a speed he knows wonât be too much and stopping when your mewling turns frantic, kissing your lips as you suck in air before returning to fucking your throat hard enough the door rattles on its hinges. You want to reach between your legs to relieve the ache thatâs becoming unbearable, but you know heâll scold you, prolonging any relief indefinitely.Â
âAnd what would daddy think of you now?â he snarls, pulling out and smacking the side of your face with his cock, âWhen are you gonna stop letting that old man run your life?â
The question comes out of nowhere, shocking you enough to give you pause. His nostrils are flared again, and his chest heaving; he looks furious. He takes full advantage, a firm grip around your upper arm pulling you to your feet before he does exactly as heâd threatened, tearing your outfit off in one effortless tug. The question of what youâll be going home in flits across your mind, but itâs background noise, drowned out by the confusion at his sudden uncharacteristic question and the oceans swirling in his eyes staring down at you.
âI hate what you do to me.â Words you werenât sure you were meant to hear push the air from your lungs as he tugs you towards the bedroom, your feet following until your back hits the soft down comforter stretched across his bed.Â
You want to contemplate what he means by that, but he doesnât give you time. Heâs nudging your legs apart with his knees, his cock flushed practically purple in his grip as he finds you dripping wet and ready for him. Thereâs nothing slow or gentle about the way he fills you in one hard thrust, his arms immediately pulling you upright and flush to his chest, your thighs trembling from the burning stretch between your legs as he lifts you slightly and lets you sink down onto him.
âYou know, out of everyone,â he purrs, all signs of his previous anger neatly tucked away, âyour pussy is still my favorite.â
Whatever of his anger had quelled now coiled in your belly at his words, and you shove at his shoulders, his unsuspecting body toppling over with a clumsy âoof!â as your knees straddle his thin waist.Â
âOhoo, ha! That makes you mad doesnât it?â he taunts as you do your best to pin his wrists above his head with two hands, âThat you have to share.â
Itâs a thought that shouldnât irk you in the slightest, but it makes your eyes flash green with envy. He doesnât even flinch as you hold him in place despite how easily he could overpower you in less than a second. Tufts of white hair fan out around his head like a halo for a man anything but angelic, his hands wriggling free just enough to entwine his fingers with yours. You go from feeling in control to once again at his mercy as he cradles your palms in his, the gentle press of his lips to the point of your chin waking the butterflies in your stomach. Thereâs no reason for him to be this reverent, this intimate, he was spitting in your mouth just minutes ago, but he continues his soft path, your head turning to allow him to trace your jaw and find the sensitive hollow behind your ear.
âNow you know how I feel,â he breathes, and you clench around him as a shiver shoots down your spine.
The sharp point of his nose grazes along your skin and youâre twitching on him now, but youâre too content like this to move. Heâs so close, you feel hypnotized, almost serene as you breathe him in and just feel him. The worst part is that he gives in, letting you have this tease of a moment, a flickering and fleeting ruse of something that will be ripped away. You like holding his hand, as it turns out, his grip is strong and delicate all the same, his fingers practically at the bend of your wrist. Youâre just breathing each otherâs air now, noses bumping as your eyes flutter closed, and part of you just wants to collapse and fall asleep.
âAm I still a prick?â he asks with a devious lilt.
âYeah,â you confirm, but for reasons that arenât entirely his fault.
âHmm. Want me to be nice to you?â
Life will be easier moving forward if you refuse his offer, but before your train of thought catches up with the autopilot currently in control, youâd already nodded.Â
The pillow is soft under your head as he flips you onto your back, your bodies still connected while he situates himself comfortably between your legs. With the first slow roll of his hips, a kiss to your forehead sends your knees into his ribs, his smile stretching across your dewy skin before he repeats it all over again. Itâs cruel, and immediately you loathe the woman who has seen this side of him before you have.Â
âYou need to relax,â he commands, flicking his tongue out against your pursed lips, âBefore you drive me insane. How long dâyou think I can make it with you clamped around me like this, huh?â
âArenât you the strongest?â you sass in reply, trying to distract yourself, and he laughs.
âMost of the time.â
Heâs found the angle that drives you mad, every drive of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that inches you towards ecstasy. Your vision goes white around the edges, his lips still close enough to kiss but neither of you can focus enough to close the distance. At some point, your fingers had wound into his hair and his in yours, the muffled whines and gasping breaths escaping into the room more obscene than the guttural cries of his name of times past. This was raw, honest, desperate. Heâs muttering obscenities as he tugs hard enough to have your scalp twinging, the sudden pressure of a hand clasping your throat dragging you up to the surface.
âI need you toâŠâ Heâs wrecked, sweat dripping down his temples, his hair stuck to his face, âI need you to come. I canâtâŠâ
A reassurance that he can cut the act and do what he needs to is cut short by a blinding, white-hot wave surging from your middle outwards. Your nails seek to permanently indent their half-moon shapes into the marbled perfection of his back while your face buries in his neck. You canât hear what heâs saying, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your cheek until your senses begin to regulate, and itâs then you realize itâs a pleading whine of your name heâs been chanting like a prayer.Â
Panic sets in, he looks like heâs in agony, his face twisting and eyes clamped shut but when your hands cup his jaw it melts away. A lazy kiss allows you both to settle, lips tugging and pulling, tongues brushing softly, and you can feel him softening inside of you as his cum and yours soaks your inner thighs and drips onto the bed. You want to know what heâs thinking, but his face is unreadable now, itâs almost as if heâs half asleep, opting to rest down on your chest for just a moment, his ear directly over your still-hammering heart.
Thereâs no time to decipher exactly what had just transpired. Itâs better that way. He lifts you with ease and carries you to the shower, his fingers scrubbing your hair before he drops to his knees in front of youâa silent plea to return the favor. You take it slow, scraping over his scalp and combing through his thick locks until his head falls to your stomach. You stay until the water runs cold, not a word is said, and thereâs no use in translating the silence. It doesnât matter anyway.Â
âGuess I didnât think that through,â he chuckles as he passes you a t-shirt from his drawer, watching intently as you pull it over your head before focusing on the way the hem hits the middle of your thighs, âMaybe youâll have to climb in through a window like the old days.â
The memory makes you smile.Â
Heâs in nothing but sweatpants when he walks out with a wink, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel in your hair. Once you leave this room heâll call you a taxi, and then itâll be tomorrow. So you sit there surrounded by everything that makes Satoru him. Empty soda bottles on the nightstand, mochi wrappers surrounding a half-empty trash can, his uniform for tomorrow folded and set neatly on a chair in the corner of the room beside the moonlit window, expensive watches he rarely wore, an array of sunglasses, and a single photo of him, Shoko, and Suguru Geto from their second year at Jujutsu High tucked back on the dresser like a relic he dares not move.
When you finally shake the lead from your feet and trudge into the kitchen, Satoruâs at the stove, music playing lightly from his phone on the counter, the symphony of the orchestral tune mixing with the sound of metal scraping on a pan. As you approach the table, he slides a plate across to you, your stomach rumbling at the sight.
âWhatâs this?â you squeak out, staring down at his offering.
âAn omelet,â he states bluntly, flipping the one heâd started for himself.
Itâs like an anvil has been dropped on your chest, the control on the tears that had been threatening to break free since heâd pressed worshipful kisses to your stomach in the shower waning. Itâs insane that for a moment you consider he actually cares, the lack of common decency youâre shown in your daily life making every gesture grand, even something as simple as this.
âDo youâŠnot like omelets anymore?â he asks, you hadnât realized how long youâd been in a staring contest with your late-night snack.
âI do.â Your throat is closing in on itself and itâs becoming impossible to mask.
âOkayâŠâ
Etiquette takes over, and you sit to take a bite of what heâs prepared for you, but the small piece youâve cut off only makes it halfway to your trembling lips before it goes clattering down to the table.Â
âWhat isââ he starts, but you cut him off.
âWhy?â The question is much more harsh than you intend.
âWhy what?â
âThis.â
âBecause your stomach has been gurgling since I picked you up. Itâs annoying. And you said you wanted me to be nice to you.â
You canât help the knowing laugh that snaps you both out of whatever daze youâd been trapped in. Your appetite ducks and runs once again and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. Itâs all part of the act; he could be whatever it was you wanted, all you had to do was ask as long as the request wasnât honesty. If he wonât call you a cab, you can get one yourself, and you find your discarded bag on the counter on the other side of him, but of course, he blocks your path.
âWhat is your problem?â The concerned furrow of his brow almost makes this all believable, like he can feel remorse.
Footsteps coming up the sidewalk catch not only your attention but his, and although he slips around you to separate you from whatever lies on the other side, his arm held out to keep you safely pressed behind him, your anger has already taken over.
âHave I overstayed my welcome?â you snap, shoving at the barrier of infinity heâs activated.
âWhat the hell are you talking about?âÂ
âIs your next visitor here? It is a Friday, Iâm sure youâre busy.â
âTch. I was working before I dropped everything to come rescue you. Left poor Megumi to finish the job on his own.â
âAs if you couldnât have just done it yourself.â You mimic the way he unleashes that destructive purple technique, flicking against his invisible wall right behind his ear with your middle finger, âJust let me leaveââ
âWith no pants? Good luck.â
The color drains from your face when it isnât a womanâs voice heard on the other side of the door, but a very familiar one. Three raps of a wooden cane echo through the palpable silence, your body going rigid in terror as the sound of your pulse turns deafening.
âWhat did you doâŠâ you mutter under your breath, backing away from Satoru whoâs playing the part of shocked exceptionally well, âWhat the fuck did you do?â
âWhat did I do?!â he responds in a hushed, frantic whisper.
âYou called him.â
âOf all the stupid conclusions youâve had in your life!â
âGojo!â your fatherâs voice echoes through the room, âGOJO!â
PART II Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs=love
yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - youâd decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.
last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - youâd been tipsy enough to take her advice.Â
casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone youâre sure you won't fall in love with.
this morning youâd woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.
you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.Â
âdid we reallyââÂ
âthree times,â satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. âi'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.â
when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. âdonât get familiar.â
âweâre naked together in bedâ we slept together in more than the literal sense. canât get more familiar than that.âÂ
âand this never happen again,â you promise, refusing to look at him.Â
âwhy? because youâre afraid youâll fall in love with me? itâs okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.âÂ
youâve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. heâs satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. youâre no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.Â
people like him donât fall for people like you. youâre afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.Â
âweâre friends,â you tell him honestly. âi donât want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.âÂ
he tilts his head as your look at him. âshoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?â
âshe told you?â you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.Â
âhey, look at me,â he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. âi can be casual and chill, itâs not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.âÂ
itâs so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could. Â
âiâll think about it,â you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. âbut you need to go home before shoko sees you.âÂ
but youâre dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what heâs told. âyouâre not getting rid of me that easily. come here.â
he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so youâre snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.
 âi canât.â you tell him (though youâre mostly reminding yourself.) this is insaneâ satoru, what are youââ
youâre cut off when he shushes you, whispering letâs sleep in for a little while longer.Â
he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.Â
so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes ofâŠcuddling. shoko isnât a morning person anyways.
after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. itâs a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isnât the worst thing in the world.Â
(itâs purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)
a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.Â
then, shoko knocks on your door.Â
âhey! donât tell me youâre too hungover for grocery shopping.âÂ
âshit!â you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. âshe cannot see you in here.âÂ
âafraid youâll have to share?â he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. âokay, okay! where do you want me?â
âcloset!â you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.Â
he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. âarenât you glad weâre doing this?â
you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.
âhey,â you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.
âdid you bring someone home last night?â
âno.â
she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.Â
âokay,â she finally says, though you canât tell if she believes you. âi justâ i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.â
âgojo and i?â you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. ânever in a million years.â
shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leaveâŠ
âŠonly for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. âwell if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.âÂ
waitâ
âgojo?â
you hear a sharp inhale through the door.Â
âyeah,â she nods. âyou really couldn't tell?â
gojoâŠhas a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. âi had no idea.âÂ
âof course you didn't. heâs definitely got a really weird way of showing it.â
she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.Â
you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shokoâs revelation, at this entire situation.
dating sucks, but maybe it wonât be that bad if itâs with him.
nanami kento is one of the hottest anime men of all time for SURE but it does make me laugh when people are like âwhew love an older man omg daddyâ because heâs 27 in JJK 0, 28 in the rest of the story. he had his quarter life crisis and went back to jujutsu after his prefrontal cortex finally snapped into place. he looks a little older and tired bc him and ijichi are supposed to be a commentary on how being a salaryman ages you but like. heâs a 28 year old man. heâs not daddy heâs just a Guy (a very nice and hot one) but like. a Guy.
same thing with Gojo. heâs 28 in JJK 0 and 29 in the rest of the story. heâs not even 30 please thatâs not âdaddyâ thatâs my twunk best friend who spends too much time at the gym and hasnât unpacked his childhood trauma. âdad gojoâ my brother in christ when he was taking care of megumi and tsumiki as kids he was a depressed gay guy in his late teens-early 20s who had just recently been politically radicalized. have you met a 20 year old guy in college. he is megumiâs annoying gay brother who doesnât know what the fuck heâs doing.
