lovely-maki

just a girl 🥹 20 Tiktok- Lovely_Maki

[lovely-maki]

bro why is writing so hard like i have all these good ideas and nothing is flowing the way i want it to… like im trying to write for my glorious husband nanami again because fuck the choso fic i can’t think of anything good enough and i know exactly where i want it to go, but the words just won’t come out someone help me omg

[celliecakes]

husband!geto x sick!reader

geto comes home to his wife being sick, so of course he has to take care of her!

The sunset flutters in through the soft, cream-colored curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. You toss and turn groaning in pain. Gosh, being sick is the worst thing ever. Your head hurts, your nose is runny but stuffy at the same time, your skin is flushed and hot yet you’re still somehow freezing!!.. oh, and don’t even get me started on the coughing. You should’ve listened to your husband when he told you to bring a jacket on your date just in case of rain, and lo and behold… it started raining. I mean, he tried offering his jacket… but you’re just so stubborn that you turned it down to prove your point.

And that’s how you found yourself stuck inside all day with a terrible cold. You weren’t even aware of your symptoms until you woke up at noon coughing so hard you nearly puked, that's when you knew.. You were sick! great. So being the responsible employee you are, you decided to call your boss letting them know about your current state… before of course falling back asleep. You were far too sick to do anything else after that besides reaching over for tissues and getting up to use the restroom.

husband!geto opens the front door expecting you to attack him with your usual warm hugs and kisses, but to his surprise, you’re not there? Maybe you’re in the kitchen, listening to music, and didn’t hear him come in..? he shrugs off his jacket and steps further into the house wondering where his sweet wife is. he checks the kitchen, nothing. “y/n..? I'm home!” he calls out, no reply. maybe your asleep? No, it’s only 6pm? Did something happen?

You’re reaching for the tissue box when you hear the bedroom door open, you look over and it's… your husband! Why is he home so early? Are you so sick that you didn’t even hear him come in? Geto’s features soften as he takes in the sight of you, oh his poor angel. There’s tissues everywhere and you look like you just ran a marathon.. your nose is pink, your eyes are droopy, your hair is a mess and the sheets on the bed are all messed up. But… even in this state you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You flash the tiniest smile before turning back to the tissue box, you continue reaching for it but it's just so far away, why the hell would you even put it over there in the first place!? Then, before you can even register what’s happening, geto’s by your side of the bed, crouched in front of you holding the tissue box. “Here, baby, you doing okay..?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His brows are furrowed slightly with worry as he scans your face for any discomfort. You nod, your movements are slower than usual as you pluck a tissue out of the box.

Your husband watches you carefully as you blow your nose, tossing the used paper into the almost full trash bin. “Thank you.” you manage to croak out, your voice rough from sleep and all the coughing you’ve been doing. After hearing yourself you clear your throat.. gosh that was terrible. geto smiles sweetly at you, before setting the tissue box beside you gently. He gets up and walks into the bathroom. Too focused on your stuffy nose and aching throat you don’t realize geto returning with a thermometer in his hand.

“may i?” he says hovering the thermometer above your head. You nod slightly, letting your sweet husband press that cold ass thermometer to your forehead. You can’t really complain though, it actually feels amazing against your burning hot skin. geto winces when he sees the numbers, 102? yikes. He sets the thermometer down and cups your face gently, “I'm so sorry sweet girl.” geto whispers quietly before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

He leans back looking at you with so much adoration it was almost sickening, who knew a cult leader could be this loving? “I’ll take care of you sweetheart, I promise.” he pulls the covers up to your shoulders, leaving the room for the bathroom again before coming back with a cold rag this time. placing the rag on your forehead gently, he reaches over taking the medicine from the nightstand. You sit up shaking your head no, gosh that medicine is so disgusting it makes you cringe even thinking about the taste. geto chuckles, the sound low, deep and so sweetly familiar. “cmon angel, you gotta take it. " It’s gonna help you feel better.” he says sweetly pouring the dark purple liquid into a small medicine cup. you glare at your husband, this is the biggest betrayal ever.

[zen-in]

— your secret relationship with your bodyguard maki ! — idol!fem reader

The flashes always gave you a headache; there was no way around it. You'd tried countless pairs of sunglasses to protect your eyes, but you'd noticed that wearing sunglasses to red carpet events at night made you look rather foolish. Other people probably didn't worry enough about that kind of thing because fashion always came first, but your world was too different from theirs. At least in your head; outwardly, there didn't seem to be much difference.

You slumped onto the nearest sofa, letting out a tired gasp. The room was ridiculously large; another thing you didn't quite understand about that lifestyle because, who needed that kind of luxury if you were only going to spend one night there?

"I'm tired," you murmured to yourself, however, those words reached Maki, who lifted her face to observe the way you looked on the sofa, your face hidden among the decorative pillows, probably ruining your makeup.

"There's a party," she reminded you, making you let out another groan. Your whole body tensed as you felt her fingers slide down your leg, moving your foot so she could take off your shoes and—

"You don't have to do that." You sat up so quickly that a wave of dizziness passed through your head. You felt heat rise in your chest, and if you were someone who blushed easily, you knew it would be noticeable. Luckily, you weren't; anyway, it would be pretty impossible for anything to show over all that awful makeup.

"It's supposed to be my job."

"Your job is to protect me," you reminded her as you slid off the sofa, hurrying toward the massive window that replaced an entire wall. You pushed the curtains aside, letting in the beautiful view of the city.

You hated it when that voice in your head kicked in, reminding you that Maki's only job was to protect you. After an incident with some jerk who had tried to get too close after an interview, one of your managers had decided that hiring a bodyguard was the best course of action. The idea had seemed awful, and you'd avoided it at all costs for weeks. You certainly didn't want a man following you around all the time, not even for work.

Then one of the girls on your team suggested a female bodyguard, and the option seemed less terrible. The first few weeks with Maki were… normal. She didn't talk much, but she always answered everything you asked in a neutral tone, or at least that's how it seemed to you. She wasn't distant, but she didn't sound like an enthusiastic best friend either. Her scars had caught your attention, and she seemed like the kind of person who was just there to do her job. Nothing more.

But then the two of you started spending more time together. Too much time. You'd somehow noticed she'd relaxed around you because, although her posture was always firm, her voice was now softer. She didn't hesitate to put her arm around your waist to pull you away from any crowd, and her hand would always slide down your lower back to guide you around.

The looks you exchanged were longer; she never took her eyes off you, nor did she move away whenever you leaned on her shoulder when you were too tired. You realized you didn't mind when she stayed in one of the guest rooms because "it was safer if she was there," even though you'd never had any problems at your house or there was already enough security outside.

You two could have continued like that for much longer, you knew it, and you wouldn't have even cared. But each day became torture, every little touch of her hands or every time she put her arms around you to pull away, you hated feeling her move away from you seconds later.

It was one night when you did it on impulse. Her lips had met yours, and it had been the best experience of all.

At first, you regretted it, you hadn't even considered the possibility that she didn't even like girls… but Maki didn't move away. Contrary to what you had thought, she buried her fingers in your hair to keep you from pulling away, her arm around your waist as she had done so many times to pull you away from crowds, except that this time she was trying to draw you closer for a different reason.

Things didn't change after that. The next day, the first thing you did was question your own life choices, yet Maki seemed exactly the same as always… and that bothered you. You didn't want to go back to the way things were, you didn't want to miss her warmth when she pulled away, and you didn't want to spend the night thinking about those lips instead of tasting them. But fear had taken control of your decisions, and you had created some distance.

You didn't kiss her again after that day, but Maki hadn't kept her usual distance, and that had begun to frustrate you because your attempts to distance yourself from her weren't working at all. You gave up that morning when you took her hand as you walked, and that was all Maki needed in response.

Your gaze settled on the city lights, some so small they resembled a sea of ​​stars. Your fingers brushed against the glass in front of you; you were tired, but willing to spend a few minutes simply enjoying the night view. However, that wasn't possible when you felt her arms encircle you.

Your body tensed for only a fraction of a second before relaxing in her touch. Your fingers grazed the scars on her arm, which she held tightly around your waist. Her breath brushed your cheek as she leaned in to press her lips against your cold skin, and you hated feeling her pull away seconds later. Without a kiss, without anything at all. "There's a party," she said again, because of course, if anyone knew your schedule and your possible plans, it was Maki.

Of course you knew there was a party, after that awards ceremony—which had left you extremely exhausted—they always threw some kind of party, but in your mind it was just another event to show off their fake lives online. You had no doubt that more than a few people would enjoy it, but there were certainly others who were only there out of obligation. You were one of them.

"I don't want to go." You sighed, taking one last look at the sea of lights through the glass before turning around to melt into her arms again. Maki's warm fingers brushed aside a few strands of your hair so she could see your face. Somehow, she was always warm, and maybe that was why you loved hugging her so much.

"You never want to go," she huffed, which was technically true, you never went to those kinds of parties unless you had to.

Your fingers cupped her face, forcing her to look at you. "I'd rather be here," you admitted. The tips of your fingers grazed the scars on her face, a few months ago, you'd noticed she tensed at your touch, but in that moment, that tension had completely disappeared.

Maki remained silent. You could see in her expression that she was struggling to say something, perhaps trying to convince you to attend the party, but that only meant putting on a show in public, meaning she would stay by your side the rest of the night, making sure nothing strange happened around you, and that felt like torture at that moment. Especially after spending all day fighting the urge to kiss you.

Your fingers slid down to the nape of her neck, pushing her against your lips, and Maki didn't even make the slightest effort to pull away. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt the gentle way you moved your lips against hers while her arms tightened around you. Part of her head screamed that she was breaking every unwritten rule about her job, but then there was the other part of her that didn't give a damn.

When you pulled away from her lips, the feeling of needing more didn't disappear from your chest, not even when Maki moved slightly away, talking about what you both should do for the rest of the night to try and find some peace and quiet. Your mind, however, was elsewhere. You turned, glancing through the glass one last time, and for just a second, you allowed yourself to listen to that voice inside you that told you something was wrong.

You drew the curtains back, covering the window, and forced yourself to ignore the reminder that someone might always be watching.

[venusins-deactivated20260422]

!!! we’re so back … for now

[lovely-maki]

THANK FUCK OH MY GOSH (if they go back on this im deadas moving back to ao3)

[lovely-maki]

Why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?

Synopsis: For once, you decide to come to one of Satoru’s dumb frat parties (not without hours of his insufferable begging of course) however, you didn’t expect to run into the campus cutie you’ve been crushing on for the past semester. The only problem with him is, he only ever reaches out if he’s had something…

an: OKAY LISTEN IM LOCKED IN i’ve been writing this one for a really long time and i feel super proud of it if it flops i’ll genuinely cry but here we go !!

Word count: 837

You were never the type to go to one of Satoru’s dumb fucking frat parties. You think they’re a waste of time, and you could get high on your own, in the comfort of your room. That’s what you believed in. Until You get wind from Shoko that the one and only campus crush of yours, Choso Kamo will be there tonight. You’ve only been looking for an excuse to talk to him for the past semester, so why not take the shot?

So, here you are. It’s another calm night at the frat, everyone just sitting around talking about whatever came to mind. Looking at the atmosphere now, it’s great, just a bunch of close friends catching up after a long week. But, it would be better if he was here.

“Hey, Toru, when is Choso gonna get here?”You ask, already getting a look from your friends for even asking that question.

“Of course you’d want to know that, [Name]. But yes, your little boy toy will be here later. He had something to take care of before he got here. Something important, according to him.” Satoru replies, that dumb smirk in his face as usual.

You hum gently in response, sitting back and waiting patiently for him to get there. You were going to talk to this kid if it was the last thing you did. And Oh. My. God. Could the time pass any fucking slower? It feels like ages before you see your pretty boy walk through the door of the frat.

“Aye, Cho! Glad you finally showed up!” Satoru, the ever loud one, exclaimed as he moved over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I have someone I want you to meet.” Oh no.

You pretend to busy yourself with your phone, literally anything to keep from having to talk to him. Sure, you think he’s cute, but you didn’t actually want to do anything about it! You finally look up for your phone and immediately regret it, making eye contact with the boy you’ve been observing for the past weeks. You see that small, knowing smirk climb its way across his face, subtle, but there.

“Cho, meet [Name]. My best friend, partner in crime, if you will.” Satoru exclaims, patting you on the back as he introduces you instead of letting you do it. You let out a scoff and brush his hand off of your shoulder.

“Best friend is pushing it. This is a one sided friendship.” You mutter, earning a chuckle out of the emo boy in front of you. You look up and lock eyes with him, smiling softly at him. “It’s nice to put a name to the face, Toru talks about you all the time.” You say, lying straight out of your ass.

Choso smiles down at you, taking a seat next to you as everyone else continues their conversations. He leans closer to you and murmurs softly in your ear; “I’ve seen you around before, pretty. Always eyeing me, i’m afraid i’ll catch a cold if you keep undressing me with your eyes.” He teases, reaching over you to take a blunt from Shoko.

You freeze, not realizing that he’s definitely seen you looking before, not like you were trying to be discreet, but still. You open your mouth to retort, but quickly get hushed by the blow of smoke in your face, leaving you to waft it away, glaring at choso, who’s suppressing a laugh.

“Ha. Ha. Sooo funny. Bet that one made you popular with all the ladies, huh.” You reply, pushing on his chest lightly to get hi away from you, dang okay sleeper build. You think to yourself.

“Hmm? You think that’s why the girls love me? Oh sweetheart, I can show you why they always come crawling back. Ya wanna take this to Suguru’s room? He doesn’t mind.” And, before you can stop yourself, you agree.

You guys both go upstairs and end up in Suguru’s room, door closed and locked as you guys sit on his bed, a nice, slow makeout sesh is on the agenda for you guys tonight. Both feeling the slight buzz of the weed from downstairs. Surprisingly, you guys don’t end up fucking, but rather you just… talk. Talking about literally anything that comes to mind. For a while, all is well, until you decide it’s time to get the fuck out of this house before you’re stuck here until morning.

“Here, pretty. My number, in case you decide to be graced by my presence again.” Choso teases. With a snort, you take his phone and put his number into yours, sending him a text before handing it back. You both give your goodbyes and split ways.

Now, normally, you’d expect him to reach out, maybe set up a date or something. Nothing. He hasn’t spoken to you or reached out since the party. That asshole… Why does he only ever talk to you when he’s high?

OKAY YALL LMK IF YOU WANT ME TO KEEP THIS ONE GOING I JUST GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHERE TO GO WITH IT

Taglist: @sixxels (i hope it’s okay that i tag you 🥹) @luv4dapape

[lovely-maki]

okay lowkey does anyone even want a plug choso fic? I’ve been working on this one for a really long time but nothing I write seems to be right to me. I genuinely don’t know what to do anymore and just writing for my husband nanami gets a little boring. Someone PLEASE tell me what to do cause your girl is lost.

[pillsatoru]

back of the net ⊹ ࣪ ˖ soccer player! gojo x pianist! reader

pairing ── .⟡ soccer player/rich! gojo x pianist! reader

summary ─ who would have ever thought the cocky bastard satoru gojo could ever fall for a girl like you. he's supposed to be into loud and flashy girls that like to party not girls that were, well, you. shy and sweet. but after overhearing you playing on the piano after late practice, soft tunes filling his ears and your pretty face under the soft light, the boy is more whipped than ever and is willing to do anything to make your his.

warnings / tags ─ lots and lots of fluff, brief angst, smut, gojo is a freak for you, like literally, praising kink, p in v, virgin! reader, soft sex, rough sex, bending-you-over-your-new-piano sex, college au, he's a yearner, and irresponsible with his money, super cute ending, shy! reader. art by _3aem !

general masterlist

wc. 10k

If you were to tell gojo three years ago that he had fallen in love during college, the boy would have laughed in your face.

But it's true, Gojo is in love.

And not with a cheerleader from his games, a sorority he'd hooked up with or a stripper he'd have charmed with his stupid grin.

But with a pianist.

A very gorgeous and talented one who he would sit down next to hours on end, listening to the new song you had learned to play. a beauty he would die for. And most importantly, the girl that he is one minute away from getting down on a knee for.

And it all started with a forgotten notebook.

⟢ 

"Where the fuck is my notebook." Gojo muttered, searching his backpack twice. Then he looked in his locker, his gym bag, under the bench, even. His eyebrows furrowed until a groan left his lips.

It wasn't like it magically grew a pair of legs, but he still looked behind the vending machine as well. Just to be extra sure. 

"This cannot be happening.." The last he needed was losing the one journal he actually used and the one that had his homework in it, especially not after a long night of practice that had his limbs feeling like spaghetti noodles. He just wanted to go home and drool into his pillow, sleeping off into another world.

"Looking for something?" Suguru chimed in, watching as his friend pulled out everything from inside his locker. His soccer uniform dropped onto the floor but Gojo was too exhausted to even care.

He shot a scowl towards the pierced boy. "My notebook man.. I lost it."

Gojo tried to recall where he had last used it. But there was no hope with how fried his brain was. He dropped his body dramatically onto the bench with a whine that sounded like it had come from a child.

"I have Monday's assignment in there."

"For what class?" Suguru slipped on his shirt over his body, closing his locker shut before turning to Satoru. "Biochemistry.." That’s when the memory hit him straight in the face.

He had left the notebook in his class, on the desk he sat in right next to the window.

Gojo immediately stood up, causing his head to feel dizzy, grabbing his bag to place on his broad shoulder. "Gotta go, see ya." He gave his friend a quick harsh pat on his back, rushing towards the door.

How could he be so dumb to leave it behind?

He has been so focused on his upcoming winter game that he was in a rush to get to practice on time.

You’re late three times to practice? You’re out. 

The walk to his science class was a blur. Dodging small talk from other teammates and the cold weather practically freezing his balls off.

By the time he reached his biochem room, the hallway was eerily quiet as he slipped into the classroom.

There it was, sitting right there on his desk.

He could almost cry tears of joy.

Gojo let out a breath of relief, retrieving back the journal full of doodles and important notes. But most importantly, a poorly drawn portrait of his professor as a disgruntled frog that would definitely get him in trouble if said professor got his hands on it.

He clutched it close to his chest dramatically.

The door clicked quietly behind him. He was about to head towards his car that was parked in front of the field when a sudden sound floated down the hallway, reaching his ears.

It was music.

Well, a piano.

That's what it was.

The notes were as delicate as the raindrops that were hitting the window.

His head tilted to the side, following where the tunes were coming from in between the crack of the door.

Gojo knew he should have just gone home and attempted to get more than four hours of sleep for once, but the sound had him entranced like a siren call.

And that's when he saw you for the first time.

You looked so focused, eyes locked on the keys under your pretty fingers. You haven’t noticed him yet, peeking through the crack of the door like a creep.

Gojo held himself closer, steadying his body on the door, trying to get a good look at you. Maybe he could make out your face if he leaned in just a bit closer. But he only managed to fall, causing the door to open wide and for you to freeze.

Your fingers hovered over the piano, eyes blown wide completely startled.

"Oh my gosh- I am so sorry!" he exclaimed, pushing himself off the ground, wincing at the feeling of a now forming bruise on his knee. He was tripping over his words, trying to explain why he was even peeking in the first place, but he fell silent when you approached him. 

You had to be an angel with the way you were staring up at him. "Are you alright?" your voice was even better. It was so gentle.

'Angels play the piano.. I had no idea' gojo thought. 

"Uhhhhh, yeah. yeah, I'm alright." He answered quietly, eyes drawn to your lips. "You play really beautifully"

"Oh, thank you."

"Yup!" With that, he rushed out the door, face blushed to the max and heart beating faster than it does when he's out on the field. 'Holy fuck, who was that beauty?' His hand felt light.

Way too light. 

 He looked down just to see that he had forgotten his notebook, again. 

Gojo would rather dig a hole and die in it than go back and face you after his sudden departure. 

Your footsteps clicked on the floor, tilting your head to see gojo standing there, contemplating if he should turn around or not. "Hi again, you forgot this.." 

You lifted up his journal. 

"R-right, I forgot about that." He let out a nervous chuckle, reaching behind him doing a little grabby motion with his hand, back still turned towards you.

You were confused by his behavior but didn't question it, gently placing the book in his hand.

"Thank you." The flushed boy squeaked out. 

You bit back a smile, watching as he tried to discreetly sneak a look at you over his shoulder. 

"No problem!" you chirped, turning around to walk back into the music room. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, body now turned to fully face your figure as you walked away. 

"... Wow." he whispered. 

⟢ 

"And then she smiled up at me, like the prettiest smile I have ever seen. I'm not even joking that girl is heaven sent. I regret not running after her because oh my god, Suguru- Suguru are you even listening to me?" 

"I’ma keep it a buck, fuck no." Suguru grumbled, scrolling on his phone which was far more interesting than the summarization Gojo has been giving him for the past two hours. 

"You're an ass." Gojo grumbled, flopping on his belly on his bed, messing up his navy blue covers. "Let me see if she has instagram.. wait fuck, I dunno her name."

"Wait, you have a crush on a girl whose name you do not know?" The black haired boy stared away from the screen, looking up at his enamored best friend. 

"Well like I was saying, she slipped from my fingers last night. I was too shocked from her ethereal face to even process anything" 

"Then I don't fucking know what to tell ya, just leave me the hell alone."

Gojo hummed. "Whatever." he swung his feet in the air, twirling around his hair as he thought back to you. His friend gave him a look of disgust because never in his 15 years of being friends with Satoru had he ever seen him in love. 

It freaked him out. 

⟢

Gojo brought the ice pack to his cheek, mumbling a curse under his breath. The daydreamer was knocked out of his pondering when the soccer ball hit him straight in the cheek bone, smacking him hard enough to bruise. 

He received a quick scolding from his coach on how he needed to get his head out of his ass and start playing harder now that the final game was closing in.

One second he was imagining you and your sweet smile and the other he was on the ground. He physically couldn't stop thinking back at you and the events of last night. Gojo threw away the bag with the now melted ice in a nearby trash can, slowly making his way to the music room.

'please be there, please be there, please please please!'

And then..

"Thank you god..." he whispered at the sight of you. 

You were walking so peacefully, flipping the pages full of music in your hands, trying to pick which song to practice tonight. A stupid smile grew on Gojo's face. You had on a simple but cute white blouse and a brown skirt, the typical outfit you'd expect a pianist to wear.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, too focused to notice the 6 foot boy practically stalking you in the dark. He did a little inner cheer, beaming with happiness after you finally looked up, making eye contact with him.

"Oh, hello." You greeted him sweetly. "You're the guy who face planted yesterday, right?"

He froze, embarrassed. 

"Yea.. I'm Satoru." He held the door open for you, watching as you entered before closing the door behind him. He flashed you his dorky but genuine smile but quickly regretted it. 'Why the hell did I do that? What's wrong with me?' Any negative thoughts disappeared the second you giggled, making his brain short-circuit.

"I'm y/n."

He gave himself a pat on the back at achieving your name. "y/n, huh?" He tested it out himself, looking around to prevent himself from ogling you.

"So um, last night, I didn't get to listen to you finish playing that song."

You grabbed the back of your skirt, sitting down on the piano chair, patting the fabric down so it didn't stick up awkwardly.

"The one I was doing before you so rudely interrupted me?" Your focus shifted back onto him, scooting on the piano seat to make room for him.

He was surprised at the offer, but quickly acted on it. The muscular boy happily sat down next to his new crush.

"I can play it again if you'd like. It was love me by Elvis Presley."  You positioned your fingers on their assigned keys, glancing at Satoru. 

The simple eye contact drove him crazy. Gojo could feel the back of his neck heating up but shook it off as you began to play. 

Your fingers glided around the keyboard out of pure memory. It made him hold his breath so he wouldn't miss hearing a second. His eyes weren't set on your hands but on your face, fully focused. It was enough for his heart to run wild. Not like it wasn’t already. 

You ended the song with one final push on the keyboard, looking up at him and the stupid smile that was plastered on his face. 

"That was good.. really good" 

"I know." You grinned. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as his tongue darted out to lick his slightly chapped lips. 

"Do you play?" 

Gojo hummed. "Nah. I’d like to, but I’m too busy with soccer." 

"You play soccer?" You asked curiously. 

"Yeah, you couldn't tell from my sweat?"

"I thought you just had a bad sweating problem."

Gojo let out a groan. "that's fuckin' embarrassing." He dragged a hand down his face. 

a snort escaped you unknowingly, making him turn to look at you again, forcing you to bring your hand up to cover your mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry." 

"For what?"

He did not care. like at all. 

"Um.. nothing. So, is listening to me play the piano all you came back for?" 

The hand that previously rubbed his face now made its way to the back of his neck, nervously rubbing it.

"Sort of, I came back mostly because I wanted to get to know you. I've never seen you before and I just.. I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime." His own words surprised him. That is not at all the reason he showed up. 

A faint blush attacked your cheeks. "Really?" Your voice softened even more.

"Yeah, really."

You were hesitant, but eventually nodded. "I'd really like that." 

But he was thankful his mouth spoke involuntarily. “Yeah? Great, that’s great..”  

⟢

Gojo gently closed the door behind him, letting out a tired sigh. His hands were covering the bottom half of his face, not being able to process the fact that he asked you out, and you said yes. 

He began walking to his dorm, ready to tell Suguru what happened. His hands were shaky, opening up his phone to stare at the new contact on his list. Yours. He clicked on the edit button, replacing the number with your name. 

“Suguru!” Gojo yelled after entering his room. “Bro bro bro,” he smacked the exposed back of his friend, to which Suguru responded by smacking it away. “I did it, I asked her out and I got her number.” 

Suguru grunted. “So?”

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Dude, can you at least pretend to be proud of me? Fuck you so negative for?”

Suguru placed his phone down, shifting to lay against his elbow to face gojo. “Just confused and weirded out that you’re serious about a girl. You’re always sleeping around so yeah, it’s fucking weird that you’re suddenly Mr. Lover Boy.” 

Gojo’s eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, I'm sorry if it's so "strange" for you to acknowledge that I can actually feel love."

He felt hurt at the fact that he was seen as incapable of feeling such strong sentiments towards someone. Yes, it was right that he used to stick his dick in every girl that would give him bedroom eyes in the past just for fun, but he's calmed down. And right now, he even more so now that you have entered his life, and he doesn't expect you to leave anytime soon.

"Your parents won't like it if they find out you're getting distracted."

Gojo's parents have this stupid belief that if a woman were to appear in his schedule, it would mess up his future. Soccer has been his top priority since grade school, having games every other month and practices every day for hours. Even when he tried explaining that he no longer enjoyed the sport, he got shamed.

"You have talent, son." His father would remind him.

But Gojo didn't want to kick around a ball.

He never wanted to. 

He wanted to push his fingers down the keys of the piano, just like you did. He wanted to learn how to read music and to perform on big stages that didn't consist of roaring crowds cheering when a goal was scored, but a quiet audience that appreciated the art he was creating.

That was a dream that he cherished for years, keeping it a secret from everyone, especially from his un-supportive family. If they found out he would rather play an instrument rather than play a sport? He’d be a huge disappointment.” 

"They don't have to know." Gojo shot back.

"They'll find out eventually. Just don't waste your time with her, we both know how batshit crazy your family is."

"I'm fucking aware and I don't need to hear it from you right now."

Suguru was sitting properly now, scowling up at the now agitated boy. He knew he was being an ass, but he was just looking out for gojo. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

"You clearly do if you're actually considering going out with her."

"I'm not considering, I am going out with her."

It was a back and forth argument that seemed as if it had no end.

"Whatever, you better not come crying to me when they hear about this. You already know what I will say."

I told you so. 

Gojo was already making his way to his room, shutting the door loudly. He hated getting reminded of his parents. Even in college when he thought he'd finally get away from them, they still continue to haunt him.

He fell over his bed, taking off his shirt and bringing the covers up to cover his torso. He took deep breaths, scrolling on his phone before opening up your contact again.

His fingers began moving.

Satoru 

'Hellooo. Me, you, cafe tomorrow?'

He held his breath, awaiting your response. 

You replied shortly after, which he was thankful for.

You

'Hi! Yes sounds yum! what time?'

Skipping practice shouldn't harm him. He hasn’t missed any yet, so it’d be his first strike. If it meant sacrificing it for you, he would do it.

'Does 3 work for you?'

'Mhmmm, I have to be back before 8 tho!'

He chuckled. Did you have a curfew at 20 years old?

'Alright, noted. See you then.'

'Okay goodnight ! <3'

Oh my god. 

You sent a heart and you said goodnight.

That clearly meant something right? You are interested in him, you sent a heart. He bit his inner cheek to prevent a stupid giggle from slipping out. He hearted your message, exiting the app.

From outside his door, he could hear Suguru turn on the tv, probably to play some video game of his. Gojo sighed, standing up to go join him despite the previous argument. He was still his best buddy at the end of the day.

"Make room." He murmured, pushing the black haired boy's feet off the couch to make space for him to sit on.

Suguru handed him the second controller without a question, splitting the screen into two. They played in silence until the sun fully set and the moon rose. 

⟢ 

You patted down your blouse, turning to your side to stare at yourself in the mirror. Is this too little for a first date? Or was it too much? No boy has ever asked you out, not because you were unattractive, far from that actually, but because you always kept to yourself.

Many saw you as boring, shy, timid, unapproachable. But Gojo saw past that.

You did a little spin for yourself, showing off your pretty outfit. This should be good.

Gojo on the other hand was panicking as well. 

He didn't know if he should just throw on another of his polo shirts or a sweater. He had his clothes spread out on his bed to make it easier for him to choose.

He settled on a brown patterned sweater with his white shirt underneath and his usual black jeans. 

After receiving the message that you were ready, he rushed out the door, bringing the car’s engine to life. 

Gojo went over potential lines, like the hopeless romantic he had grown to be.

"Looking as gorgeous as ever." No, way too soon to say that. "Nice rack." No no, definitely not that. Shit, should he have gotten you flowers? Wait, he doesn't know which you prefer. He should first figure that out and then get you some. You looked like a tulip girl, or maybe roses? 

His nose scrunched up. Did he put on cologne today? Did he stink? what if you thought he smelt bad. 

What about his hair? Did it look greasy? He took a double shower today, shaved his entire body, just in case. 

All negative thoughts left his head once he reached your house. You were standing out there waiting for him, looking around cutely with your hair blowing around a bit from the winter wind.

He clenched his jaw close, not wanting it to fall open.

Your eyes landed on his car, face brightening. You gave him a little wave, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder as you made your way down the street to him.

Gojo came back to earth, jumping out of his seat to go over to the passengers side, opening the door. "You're so pretty." he complimented, watching you sit down.

"Thank you!" You happily chirped.

He walked over to his side once again, typing out the location of the cafe on the console, previously where your address was written.

You both began with small talk. How your classes were going, why you even chose the university, all of that. 

“So, why soccer?” You asked. 

“Well, like I said, my parents wanted me to do something impressive, y'know? I’ve been playing since I was like five. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“I highly doubt that.” 

Your words made his cheeks warm up.

“Why piano?” He forced himself to speak, praying you hadn't noticed the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel. 

You hummed in thought. “I don’t know actually. I’ve always liked music and I thought the piano was cool, so I just stuck to it. I tried out guitar before but piano was easier for me.” 

Gojo listened intently, almost as if your words were the most important things to ever exist. 

“I play for the school from time to time.” 

"Is that so? I'll go and support you if you promise to come to my game."

You nodded. "Deal! I'll even wear your jersey."

Fuck. he'd like that. a lot.

"Noted." A breathy chuckle left him.

Your destination wasn't far, but traffic made it seem as if it was. "Think we're here." He looked around, parking the car just as the generated voice set on the map spoke out.

'You have arrived.'

⟢

The date went well, really well.

You even went as far as holding hands as the two of you made your way into the heart of the town center, admiring the Christmas decorations they had set up, laughing at the way they made The Grinch appear. 

“Hold on, stand over there let me take a picture!” He pointed over at the cardboard cutout of the character with a silhouette of a person with a hole cut out where the face should be, allowing people to place their head in. 

You smiled after posing. 

The phone’s camera snapped, taking a couple of pictures. 

‘Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.’ Gojo grinned, showing you the captures he had taken to you once you made your way back to him. 

“Let’s take one together!” You offered. 

His heart beat overtook the holiday music playing, beating loud as hell as you got closer to him for the picture. He gulped, shyly wrapping his arm around your shoulder, forcing himself to look at the camera and not you. 

But eventually the day came to an end, and with your curfew hour approaching, he drove you home.

"Hey so um, I was wondering if we could do this again soon?" He internally cringed at how desperate he sounded.

"Of course. I mean, obviously."

Satoru bit back a smile, knowing it was no use with the way his face was shifting to a soft pink color.

He pulled up to your now familiar house, watching you gather your things, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He quickly scrambled out of his seat, rushing over to your side to open the door. You chuckled at how hard he tried, but you appreciated it.

"Thank you."

You both stood in front of each other, the silence heavy. He leaned in, wanting to close the small distance in between you two, but the sound of your neighbor's dog barking snapped him back into reality.

He cleared his throat, taking a small step back. "So um, I'll see you."

"Yeah, see you." You took a couple of steps before turning back around. “I had a lot of fun today, Satoru.”

You reached up on your toes, pecking his cheek gently. A gasp broke from Gojo before hearing the soft clack of your heels disappear with every step you took up to your front door, turning around one last time to wave goodbye at him.

Gojo's hand slowly made its way to touch the area where you had kissed him.

There's no doubt.

He was in love.

Gojo made his way into his dorm room, locking it behind him. 

He threw his sweater onto a chair, leaving him in his undershirt, making his way to the couch, plopping down on it. His forearm laid over his forehead thinking back to you and how well your date went.

He smiled softly, clearly satisfied.

Suguru heard the door close, indicating his friend had come home. He went out to greet him but the view of him laying on the couch, eyes closed but smile intact, his face shifted. He knew gojo was in too deep.

And he knew that sooner or later, shit would go down.

⟢ 

"No no.. that one's an eight note." You pointed at the music sheets in front of you.

"It deadass looks like a sixteenth note." He argued.

"No it doesn't!"

"This is way too complicated.." Gojo groaned, resting his head on his hand all while he averted his gaze from the papers to your pretty face.

He admired you, hand already reaching to fix a strand of hair, thumb lingering on your cheek.

"Satoru focus.." You whined, clearly distressed that your date couldn't understand the difference between two notes.

"Can't. You're too pretty."

His lips grazed yours for just a second, and in that second alone he was able to tell that one kiss wasn't going to be enough.

Your hands placed themselves on his shoulders, previously on the piano seat, returning the sweet short pecks he kept initiating.

His hands went behind your back, bringing your body closer to his.

"Quarter note.. treple clef-" He mumbled against your lips.

"Treble clef." You corrected him.

"Whatever."

After four successful dates, Gojo finally got what, or who, he wanted. You. He finally got you. 

And he was the happiest bastard on earth. 

“Want to go to the mall, baby?” He said against your lips, tugging at your lower lip. 

“Mmm, yeah okay!” You chirped before wincing at his biting. “Ouch! Toru!” 

He grinned, licking at where he bit. “Sorry. I just love these pretty lips so much.” 

“Yeah yeah..” You rolled your eyes, laughing at the sudden tickle attack he declared against your tummy, poking at the sides. 

“Let’s get going.” 

⟢

The shoes were put on display so any shoppers could get a brief glance at it before deciding if it was worth buying or not. You stared at them for a while. They were a pretty pair of Mary Jane's. Low heeled but had some chunk put into the platform part and they had a strap that wrapped around the ankle. The bow in the middle of it was small but it added so much to the design.

You always asked your mom for a pair whenever you went out with her and your sister. She always dismissed it, saying they were too expensive. But here they are, only $40.99. Your gaze turned to look at the big poster they had plastered on the window. a new month's deal. 'Buy one get one 50% off!'

Gojo approached you holding a bag full of pizza bits and a single large cup of lemonade intended for the both of you to share from Weltzels pretzels. He took the sight of you looking at a pair of shoes so intently, almost like you were debating buying them.

"Do you like those?" He asked, offering you the small warm bag of food before he took a sip of the drink in his hand. You happily accepted the treats before shrugging. "Not sure."

He hummed. "You've been staring at them for a while now."

"They just remind me of a pair I used to want when I was a kid. But they were always "too expensive" so my mom never got them for me. But she was always willing to drop a grand on bags she would never even use." You saw at the corner of your eyes Gojo reaching to grab a piece of the pizza from the bag.

He didn't say anything for a while, just staring at the shoes as well as he chewed on his pizza bit. Then, he turned and walked off into the store, leaving you standing confused. Your eyes followed as he talked to an employee, pointing at the pair of shoes displayed on the window. Specifically, the pair you wanted. The clerk nodded before disappearing behind the door that read 'workers only!'

"Um, baby?" You whispered out, following him inside the store to where Gojo was standing, still sipping onto his comically large drink.

"Uh hey what are you doing?" You asked once you reached him. He glanced back at you, reaching to grab another piece from inside the bag. "Checking if they have those shoes in your size."

You mumbled his name awkwardly as you shifted the now empty bag in your hands because that biggie ate them all. He took a bite from the treat before feeding it to you. "Shh, I'm working."

The worker returned with a box in his hand. "Size seven?" Gojo nodded, taking the box in his hands, gesturing for you to sit down on the seats provided by the store. "Hey you don't have to.."

"I know," he interrupted. "I want to."

He got down on one knee, placing the cup he was previously sipping on next to you. His hands moved to open up the shoe box, carefully taking out the pair of black mary janes. "Give me your foot" he patted his knee. "Here."

"I can put them on myself.."

"I want to, love." He said sternly, forcing your foot to rest on his knee. "I'm going to stain your pants-" you mumbled embarrassed. He squeezed your calf before slipping off the shoes you were wearing right now, grabbing the shoe, carefully putting it on your right foot. "Not too loose or tight?"

You shook your head. "No.. they're.. they're perfect." He hummed, his skilled fingers adjusted the strap on your ankle handling you like you were the most valuable thing to him. He looked up at you, his expression softened the second your eyes met. "Just like you." Your eyes widened the second he said that, blush overtaking your face.

You tried saying something but nothing came out. Not like you could with the way your throat was drying up. I mean, your boyfriend of what, a month (?) was offering to buy you these expensive shoes out of nowhere. You reached for the cup of lemonade next to you as he worked on your left foot, only to realize he already finished the drink as well.

Is this the type of greed they talk about in the bible?

"Stand up." he ordered in which you complied. You looked down at the fresh pair on your feet, walking around a bit to test them out.

"You like 'em?" he asked again. You turned to him, walking to be right next to him. "Yeah, I like them. A lot"

He hummed in acknowledgment. "Well, go and look for another pair. They have the bogo discount anyway, so might as well take advantage of it." He stood up, brushing his jeans from the small stain you left behind.

"No.. no that's too much! This is more than enough! Besides, you shouldn't be spending so much on me, you already paid for dinner today-"

"Baby, seriously. I don't care if I drop a grand on you, you can make it up to me by allowing me to kiss you numb. Go get another pair." He looked around the store before his eyes landed on a pair of converse. "Get some converse, your black ones are all beat up."

"I like them that way." You argued as you took off the shiny shoes before replacing them with said beat up converse. "Well I don't. makes you look like a sad homeless lady. I want my girl to have pretty clothes to match her pretty face."

You sighed, feeling your heart warm up.

"I'm not throwing these converse away. They hold too many memories."

His hand reached for yours. "Yeah no, we can burn them ceremonially later." He brought your hand up to his face, kissing your knuckles one by one with his pink tinted lips.

He was so entranced by your face, he failed to notice the pair of eyes staring you both down. 

⟢ 

“Hey baby!” You coo’ed into the phone, hearing your boyfriend's tired grunts from the other side. 

“Morning my pretty girl.” He yawned, dragging a hand over his face. 

“It’s four toru, did you just wake up?” 

Gojo carefully sat up, watching his bedsheets pool down at his lap, exposing his bare chest. His nipples hardened at the cold air, and he didn’t have to be fully awake to know that he was hard.

Rock hard. 

Your voice wasn’t helping out at all. 

“Just calling to ask if you’d like to come watch me perform later?” 

Your question snapped him from his horny ass thoughts. “What? Baby, you’re having a show later? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” 

Usually, he knew when you had piano practices and performances. 

“I just.. didn’t know if you wanted to sit down for two hours.” 

Gojo sighed, not liking the way you even considered thinking he could be bored from watching you do what you love. 

“If it meant watching my girl play, I’d gladly sit down for more than a couple hours. I can sit for decades.” 

“Toru..” 

“I’ll be there. When did you say it was again?” He rubbed at his eyes, feeling his crusties fall down. 

“Today at seven.” 

He froze for a split second, remembering he had practice. It had completely slipped from his mind.

“Seven..” He repeated softly to himself. Practice was at five, and it lasted two hours and a half. 

He had gotten in trouble from ditching last time so he could take you out. ‘Three strikes, you’re out.’ But it would only be his second. He could handle another scolding from his coach. His voice was already echoing through his mind. 

The pause rushed to fill it. “It’s okay if you can’t. I know I’m asking last minute, it was just-” 

“I’ll be there,” he cut in. 

“Are you sure-” 

“Positive. I'm positive sweetheart.” His voice was firmer now. 

“Wait, don’t you have practice today?” You faintly remembered him telling you a couple days back how his schedule had changed from practice going from every even day to every odd day. 

“Yeah, but you really think I need it? I’m as ready as ever” 

“Toru..”

“Seriously baby, I’ll be there for you.” His eyes shifted back down to his raging boner. “..Can you come over before you go over to set up your piano though?” 

“Oh, yeah, is something wrong?” 

“... Just need you.” 

Gojo wasn’t a virgin, far from that actually. but with the way his body was warming up and heart beating a thousand miles an hour, he could be mistaken as one.

He waited patiently for you to arrive at his dorm. 

Fuck. 

Would your panties be pink? Or would they be black. 

Or better yet, blue? 

“Yo.” Geto knocked at Gojo’s door, despite it already being cracked open. “I’m heading out now to go to practice. You coming?” 

“Uh, yeah. I just need to do something quick then I’ll make my way over.” 

“Don’t miss again. The coach will be on your ass like last time.” He chuckled, waving bye at the white haired boy. 

Gojo bit the inside of his cheek, laying back on his arms, deep in his thoughts as always. You were worth it. 

That’s not a question.

⟢

“Oh my god, fuck. Yes baby, fuck!” Gojo closed his eyes, panting like a damn dog on a sunny day. 

The way your puffy folds were stretched over him only encouraged him to go faster and harder, hitting your cervix at a perfect angle. 

“Pretty fucking pussy, you’re so goddamn pretty, look at you.”

Your performance dress was sitting on the ground while your panties were ripped in the middle, right at your entrance. 

“Toru!”

You whimpered, hiding your face in his pillow. "Don't hide yourself from me, baby. wanna see ya.”

The headboard was hitting against the wall with a thud and Gojo could only pray that the other students staying at the dorms couldn’t hear them.  

He buried himself deeper into your cunt, bottoming out. 

“You’re too big…” you squealed, gripping onto the now wet bedsheets. 

“I know. And you’re too tight.” 

His hand shifted to grope your ass, fondling the plush meat, hips not stopping or slowing. 

Your breathless pleas were like music to his ears. 

“My pretty girlfriend.. mmm aren’t you so pretty?” he praised. The veins in his arms were more evident now. One was appearing on his forehead in concentration, trying to figure out the best way to make you cum. 

You were a virgin after all. 

Profanities spilled from both your lips, feeling yourself clench harder around him. A ring of pre was forming just at the base of his cock, like a damn tattoo. 

“Babe! T-think I’m close!”

He grunted lowly. “Don’t cum just yet.” The squelches have now turned sloppier, and louder, and hotter. 

His white bangs were sticking to his forehead no thanks to the thin layer of sweat that had formed. 

“Not done with you yet.” 

His hands placed themselves both on your hips, thick fingertips rubbing you lovingly before flipping you over without slipping out. 

He wasted no time smacking at your cunt, watching your wetness fly into the air with each spank. 

“Satoru…!” You felt lightheaded in the best way possible. Your drool dripped down your chin, watching him thrust in and out. The hair that trailed down his belly button to join his pubes just made you tighten onto his aching cock even more. 

How could your boyfriend be this beautiful? 

Gojo hesitated, pulling you closer to his hips, latching a hand lightly to your neck. 

“Is this okay?” 

You nodded feeling him squeeze it. 

The sounds of your breathy moans, messy cunt along with the smack of his balls that hit your ass with every thrust had you both in a trance.

So much so that you didn’t seem to notice the door shutting and the sudden appearance of Geto who was frozen in his place, looking absolutely mortified. 

“What the fuck.” 

His voice broke through your needy whines. “Satoru!” This time his voice sounded harsher, angrier. 

Gojo’s movements came to a halt, keeping his grip on your waist. His body covered you, blocking you from his friends' view. But he knew for a fact that Geto already had in mind who was in the bed with him. 

You quickly brought the sheets to your chest in an attempt to cover yourself.  

“... Ever heard of knocking?” Gojo mumbled. 

“The door was fucking open. I could see you from the kitchen.” Geto did not advance from his spot on the doorframe. “Don’t tell me you actually got with her.”

Gojo hasn't told him about the two of you yet. Or anyone really. 

You never questioned it, thinking he’d want to take it slow before he introduced you to his friends let alone family. You had just started dating a couple weeks back. But the way his friend said it ‘don’t tell me you actually got with her.’ left a bad taste in your mouth. 

What did he mean by that? 

“Geto, seriously get out of the room.” 

“Your parents are going to kill you Satoru,” He was more animated now, hands waving in the air angrily. His own thoughts didn’t let him process the way Gojo used his last name on him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice right now? What the hell are you doing man-”

“I said get out!” You’ve never heard Gojo’s voice beam like that. 

Ever.  

It got across though. Geto slammed the door shut, storming off. 

Gojo sighed, staring at the wall before averting his gaze down to you, smiling softly. “Guess the moment is over, huh?” 

Your fingers twitched on his shoulders, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Why’d he say that?” 

His eyebrows furrowed, face shifting to one of concern at your shaky voice. 

“Hey hey, baby, it’s okay shh..” 

His softening cock slipped out of you with a small pop, arms circling around you to bring you into a hug. 

“My family.. Is an ass. A big fucking ass. They’re strict with me, especially my love life. They think they know what’s best for me but fuck, no they dont. I know what’s right for me and that’s you, love. It’s you.” 

His lips grazed at your cheek, pecking lightly. 

“It’s been you since I laid eyes on you.” 

⟢

His words looped over and over in your head as you mentally prepared yourself for your upcoming performance. 

From behind the curtain, you peeked out to see him sitting in his designated seat, head tilted down at his digital camera, adjusting the settings, waiting for you to come out so he could preserve the moment forever. 

Your teeth sank into the inside of your cheek, now becoming a new habit of yours, pacing back into the backstage area. 

If you've practiced the song multiple times, you shouldn’t be nervous. 

Right?

Wrong. 

Because the problem wasn’t the notes or the tempo, it was that you’d chosen this song with him in mind. 

“Want to watch La La Land?” Satoru mumbled earlier that month, scratching the back of his neck while the other lazily clicked away at the remote control. 

“Sure!” You tossed the blanket over your bodies,  snuggling close to his warm bare chest. “How are you not cold?” You pressed your cheek against him. 

“Hm?” His eyes landed on you after pressing ‘play’. “I am cold. I just want to show off my amazing muscles to my amazing girl.” 

“Weirdo.” 

Neither of you have watched the film before. but somehow ended up falling in love with it. You with the music, and him with the storyline. 

“I hope we never end up like them.” His voice was a whisper, silently wrapping his arms tight around you.

“Toru-”

“Never, ever leaving you, baby. Fuck soccer and you know what, fuck piano too. Don’t leave me.” 

You heard your name be called out, indicating you were next. 

You quickly patted down your skirt with trembling hands, stepping in front  of the mirror to make sure your hair, makeup, posture, everything was perfect.

The stage manager gave you a nod and you finally stepped out. 

His eyes landed on you immediately, smiling lovingly up at you. You could feel your chest tighten as you sat at the piano, fingers already hovering over the keys. 

From the distance, you could hear the sound of something clicking, his camera. 

You inhaled before pushing down your fingers, allowing the melody to unfold. You’d discreetly look over at him, seeing how he stared at you so preciously. 

By the final note, your hands had stopped shaking. 

The room erupted in applause, the loudest coming from Satoru. You bowed, eyes never leaving him even when you stepped offstage, rushing towards him. 

“Satoru!” 

He didn’t let another word come out of you, automatically cupping your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours. 

“Such a cruel girl.” He pecked again. “You picked that song on purpose didn’t ya?”

You giggled. “Maybe.” 

His thumb rubbed under your eye gently. 

“You did amazing, sweetheart.” 

⟢

Satoru has come to notice that the only way you were able to practice piano was using the school’s. 

And with Christmas approaching, he figured it’d only be appropriate if he got you one of your own. 

His hands covered your eyes, leading you carefully to the living room where your present was. 

“Alright, 3..2..1.” 

His hands fell allowing you to see. you blinked, eyes adjusting to the bright lights on the tree.

Your jaw dropped. 

In front of you was none other than a console piano. It wasn’t like the one in the music room where you practiced in and the only place you knew that had the instrument available for use, but regardless it was beautiful. 

And completely yours. 

“You like it?” He asked, rubbing your back. You nodded excitedly. “Of course I do! Thank you!” Your face was as bright as the Christmas lights, beaming at the new piano that sat in your living room. 

“I'm glad..” he whispered, letting go of you so you could look at it closer. 

You squealed, slightly jumping up and down at it. he groaned at the recoil of your ass which was visible under your plaid skirt. 

“It's so gorgeous!” your fingers pushed down on the keys. 

“Just like you.” 

“So cheesy” You said before bursting into laughter as his hands found your stomach, tickling you. You braced yourself on the piano's surface. That's when you felt it. 

His very prominent boner that was straining his pants. 

Gojo noticed that you noticed. 

A smirk appeared on that stupid face of his. “How about we check how sturdy this sucker is.” He placed a hand on your gift. 

Gojo’s hips snapped forward with a ruthless pace, each thrust making you hit against the brand new instrument and begin to rattle with all his strength.

His breath was coming out in short pants, chest pressed up against your back, pinning you harder against the surface of the piano. You whispered out his name like a prayer, every sound you made reached his ears and that only seemed to push him even further.

“So goddamn beautiful.” He praised.

At some point, words became too difficult for you to say, resulting in you answering with only moans and whimpers. gojo’s fingers were digging into your hips, leaving crescent like marks on them. He kept pounding into you harshly, tip already brushing against a sweet spot inside you.

“Right there!” You begged along with a loud mewl.

Your skirt was bunched up in his hands, almost tearing the fabric apart as he felt himself grow closer. 

“Here?” he began going deeper, watching you fall apart. The bounce of your ass was not helping, especially with the way it slapped against his thighs. His lower lip was in between his teeth, letting out grunts of his own spill. 

You were both thankful your parents weren’t home. He wouldn’t want to ruin the image they had of him this quickly. Of the perfect guy for their daughter already fucking her numb over her christmas present. 

“Think m’cummin!” You sobbed out, reaching behind you to grab his waist for support. He coo’ed softly, hand leaving your skirt to hold your hand in his. “Me too baby, let’s finish together alright? I'm cumming inside you. no way am i able to pull out this tight fuckin pussy.”

You nodded. 

“Please fill me up!” Gojo grinned once he heard that. “If ya say so darling.” 

Your legs gave up on you at the feeling of his warm seed filling you to the brim. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth open with sounds still coming out as your orgasm hit you as well. 

“Good girl baby.” His arms were wrapped around your waist, pecking your temple lovingly. “Stay with me..” 

You both stayed in that position, dick still twitching inside you before softening, forcing him to slip out with a loud squelch that made you cringe. 

“M’guessing you loved your gift?” He reached down for your panties, sliding them back on you but not before watching his semen ooze out of your cunt along with yours. He fought the urge to stick his tongue in you to clean the mess up, but he could tell you were already overstimulated, so he decided to eat you out some other time. 

And by that I mean in a few hours. 

“Yeah.. thank you.. so much..” You whimpered at the sting on your ass after he slapped it. Gojo quickly zipped his pants back up, pushing his hair back with a pant. 

“Of course my love. you better play me every song you know on it.” 

“Will do..” you smiled weakly up at him. 

“I'm gonna go get ya water, cmon sit down on the couch sweetheart.” 

You did as he said, carefully sitting down. The feeling of his cum sticking to your panties just made you clench your thighs. 

Why did he have to be so sexy? 

You stared back at your piano, admiring it. You were already thinking of all the songs you would play from sunrise to sunset. 

Gojo walked back to the living room holding a glass of water, handing it over. 

“My final game is coming up.. So I have lots of practice to do. Hope the piano keeps you occupied while I’m away.” His arm wrapped over your shoulder, bringing you closer. 

“Mmmm that’s right.” 

“Wanna head over to a restaurant, baby?” He never hesitated in asking you, and he urged you to never be afraid in asking him for whatever you desired. 

“I’d really love that.” 

“Good good, let’s get going then.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. 

“Uh, no way am I going out to eat like this.” 

His eyebrow twitched in confusion. “Like what?” 

You motioned downstairs, lifting your skirt to show off the wet mess. 

Gojo laughed, smacking your thigh lightly. “No no, you gotta head out like that.”

“Absolutely not!” 

⟢

The dinner consisted of nothing but him staring at you.

“Babe, eat.” You urged.

“Can’t, the view is too nice.” 

After eating out, you both settled in heading over to his place. 

His laugh quieted down as he pulled into the parking lot, seeing two familiar snow colored haired people. He could feel his heart sink and blood boil. 

“Stay here darling.” He ordered you, squeezing your thigh. You mumbled a soft ‘ok’, attempting to look behind you out the window to see what was going on.

He got out of the vehicle, walking around to where the people he wanted to see the least were standing. His mother was biting her nails anxiously like a mad woman. His father had his arms crossed over his chest, a serious look displayed on his face. 

Then there was Suguru. looking as guilty as ever.

And it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. 

“Is that the girl?” His mother asked. She had never expected her son to be going out with a girl instead of sticking to his schedule. How dare he? “Is that your little girlfriend?” Her voice rose up. 

“What did we say about relationships?” his father reminded him. 

But all gojo could think about was the fact that they found out because of the tan boy standing not far away. 

“Are you fucking kidding me.” He stared at the one person he thought he could trust. His hands shot out to grab Suguru's shirt collar. 

“You told them?!” He was practically screaming in his face. But Suguru kept looking unbothered, as if he didn’t practically ruin Gojo’s life right now. 

“Son, calm down.” Gojo's father said sternly. 

“No, no how the hell am I supposed to calm down. You all keep getting in the way of my life. My life!” He was at the point of crying tears out of frustration. 

“She is just a girl, Satoru.” His mother said. “She woo’ed you with a few tunes so what, it’s not going to bring money into the family, is it? You need to find yourself a good woman. But right now, your focus is on your career. Not a girlfriend, and especially not her.” 

“You are no longer the one to decide what you think is best for me. I love her, mom. I don't care what you think, just know that I am not listening to anything you say.” 

That shut his mom up real quick, shooting him a death glare, one that would have 6 year old Gojo in tears by now. But he kept his head high. 

“Satoru, you have to understand that we want what’s best for you.” 

“No,” He interrupted, turning to look at his father now. “You want what’s best for you.”

He then turned his head towards Suguru, whose eyes were set on his shoes, knowing he completely lost his best friend's trust. It's not like he had a choice either but to tell the truth. His and Gojo's family were close, and he knew that if he were to lie to Gojos parents when they asked him why the coach had informed them that their son was on the verge of being kicked from the team, the families would have even more conflicts. 

Gojo wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but instead he walked right past the new stranger. 

“Can you hear me out for a second.” Geto caught up to him, ignoring the putrid sobs coming from Mrs. Gojo. “Satoru.” he called out. 

“Look man, did you really expect me to lie when they came to the dorm, worried sick that you missed two practices? What was I supposed to say?” 

“Tell them I was sick, that an emergency came up, I don’t know but you could’ve come up with a shitty excuse.” 

“Just for them to find out I didn't tell the truth and have our families fight over me being a liar?!” 

Gojo was breathing heavily, eyebrows furrowed and jaw set tight. but his face fell as soon as he remembered you were still in the car. 

He shook his head. “They can stay the fuck out of my life. And so can you.” 

Geto froze at that. “You don’t mean that.” 

“Trust me, I mean every bit.” The air around them felt heavy. “You chose them over me.”

“Gojo, the families-“ 

“You're just a damn puppet. Same as I was, but I learned to stop playing the role. Do you think they actually see you as their son? They see you as an accomplishment.”

He rushed down the stairs, approaching his car where you were still in, head hung low nervously as you played with the skin around your fingernails, clearly worried. His parents were standing outside the building, shooting dirty looks towards your way. 

“I'm driving you home.” Gojo said after entering the car, closing the door shut and clicking his seatbelt on. “Mind if I stay with you for a bit, baby?”

His eyes met yours. 

“… Did they want us to break up?” You asked quietly, scared to hear his response. 

He immediately grabbed your hand in his to reassure you. “You know I would never ever do that. You're everything to me no matter what they think or say, I'm not letting things end between us. Got it?” 

You hesitated, not wanting his parents to hate their only son because he chose you over them. “But what if they’re right? What if you can do better?” 

You heard. 

Of course you heard. Not like they were being quiet. 

His hold tightened. “Don't you start with that.” That's the last thing he said as he drove to yours, address no longer needed on the ups no thanks to the amount of times he’s been over. 

You worried over what his family would think of him now. 

Would they hate him because of you? 

⟢

The bed felt surprisingly cold.

Your boyfriend's back was turned towards you and even though his back muscles were on full display, you couldn’t ogle without having something eating you up from the inside. 

“Toru.. baby can we talk about earlier?”

“Love, if you’re going to tell me that they’re right I swear to god-”

“No,” You sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it down to the small of his back. “I just.. I feel like we shouldn’t wait until morning to discuss it.” 

Begrudgingly, Satoru turned around, meeting eyes with you. “I will never ever break up with you because my family thinks they know what is best for me. I cut them off on the spot. They’ve got no say in what I do with my life nor with the woman I love. I told you once and I’ll tell you again. I love you, okay?”

Your heart warmed and you felt your worriness ease. “I love you too.” 

“I’ve been wanting to get rid of them for a long ass time anyways.” He yawned, throwing an arm around your waist. “Just finally got a good excuse to do so.” 

Your lips met in a small but sweet peck. 

“Now let’s go to sleep.. Big game tomorrow.” 

⟢

Suguru seems to not have caught on to the fact that his former best friend no longer wanted to be a part of his life anymore. 

“Satoru, seriously let’s talk.” He begged like a desperate ex. 

The white haired boy only rolled his eyes in response, walking past him to reach his locker. “I don’t need you messing with my head before the game. Told you to stay the fuck away from me and I meant it.” 

He quickly tugged off his shirt and replaced it with his white and teal jersey before slamming his locker shut and turning to walk out. Suguru’s hand placed itself on Satoru’s chest only to get pushed off almost immediately. 

Satoru walked out, hearing the sound of the crowd cheering. He looked around until he spotted you sitting not too far from the front. 

He smiled stupidly at himself knowing he was right where he wanted to be. 

⟢

You stared at him like he grew three heads. 

“Uhh yeah babe, I think I remember our whole love story. I was there.” 

“Okay well yes but I’m retelling it because.. Because..” Satrou groaned, looking off to the side where two waitresses were standing, nodding at them. 

Before you could look towards the direction he was staring at, a familiar song started playing. 

Love me. 

The same one you played for him all those years ago. 

“Oh, hey-” 

“Shhh..” He brought a finger up to your lips before standing up. Satoru reached into his pocket pulling out a small black box. “Baby.. light of my life.” 

Your eyes watered, already knowing where this was going. 

He got down on one knee. 

“Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

tags : @satorus-princess @nyanglock @everyonesabuela @chewiebee @storru @luvs-angel @sixeyeskh @versotiger @aotdump @bigdaddyaddy69 @cipensodopoacomechiamarmi @bam-boozledx @freegivertaco @selenethinksalot @thelazybiatch @yvannaille @zzenkha @targaryencannibal

@midgeienne @shinrjj @artbligh @amibusyreadingsomething @cursedkisss @drewisthetruetrue @n1n1c @idkwhsttonamemyself @satorusoul @zuchinni623 @solarlovesxyz @oppabochim @taoyo @littlebitofsugar404 @palasios

@bloopsstuff @jeanks-favwife @vvampiricaa @kiromiix @backseatana @thalamarssa @purplenotebook @dulceantojo @jaegersdiary @meowsberry @imjustagirll1 @qkrwidn @love-d-luxe @bellys89 @d011yyxx @107s-jbb @enneadec @mytohruu @hastletea @sn0wy707 @mdzzzzz @spoooooork @ilianasau @manic4mangoes

[lovely-maki]

this was so good i’m in awe

[sixxels-deactivated20260420-dea]

𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐬 ~ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐨 18+

wc: 7k || based on : ̗̀➛ this ask || ac: verazpberry || SMUT

summary: shoko really fucks up one night. after you come home from a party, she gets awfully jealous and calls you things you'd never expect from your sweet girl. never in your life had you felt so torn apart, so utterly heartbroken. you start to pull away, and the relationship you used to adore with all your heart starts to fall apart at the seams. angst to fluff to smut *ೃ༄

everyone loves a hot lesbian couple, and that’s exactly what you and shoko were.

you were sexy in that flashy, it-girl kinda way, and she was hot in that alternative, mysterious kinda way.

shoko mostly kept to herself, dressed in clothes only the really cool people in the city wore, and almost always only talked to you. her long-term, younger girlfriend.

you, on the other hand? good lord, if you weren’t her polar opposite.

with tens of thousands of people tripping over their feet for you on instagram, and a social circle that rivalled that of star football players at your college, you two couldn’t have been more different.

still, this didn’t stop you two from being that couple. the kind of couple everyone either wanted to have a threesome with or wanted broken up because they were ferally jealous. straights and queers alike.

you were totally infatuated with one another, and it showed in the way you were both glued at the hip. almost every post of yours featured your pretty girl posing candidly, her mousy brown hair framing that beautiful face. every smoke session shoko was invited to had you tagging along, despite not smoking yourself.

if anyone were to describe your relationship in one word, it would be perfect. utterly perfect.

you always knew perfect was a fragile thing, but it felt so good being perceived as such.

you liked being loved loudly because it meant you didn’t have to ask for the one thing you so desperately wanted. with shoko, you tried to be better with this unhealthy world view, but in your heart, you knew love was something you could earn by behaving well.

and you were always on your best behaviour with shoko.

you were constantly bettering yourself for her, always making sure things between you two stay sweet. you never questioned whether she would hurt you or not, because after all, you two were perfect.

so imagine everyone’s surprise when they hear through whispered rumours that there’s trouble in paradise…

~

you are, for lack of better words, shitfaced.

tonight marked the night of finals coming to an end, something you’d desperately wanted to celebrate with your friends. preferably your girlfriend as well, but she opted to stay home despite your insistent pouting.

“pleaseee, baby, it’ll be so much fun! we haven’t been to a party in, like, ages!” you’d whined that morning in the shower, cradling her face in your palms as she rubbed soap over your naked body.

“you go, sweetheart. i wanna relax tonight, maybe watch yellowjackets or something. i’ll be okay,” she’d replied, pinching the fat of your slippery hip teasingly.

“you promise?”

“i pinky promise.”

so yeah. you’d gone to geto’s frat for an end-of-semester bash, had a blast, and now you were ready to come home to your lover.

very much in the mood, might you add. you were always a very touchy, very horny drunk.

you stumble through the wooden door of yours and shoko’s apartment after being dropped off by yuki (bless her soul, always the dd), hopping on one foot as you drunkenly fiddle with the criminally small buckle on your heel. once it’s unfastened, you slip it off and laugh as it tumbles down. the stiletto lands in the foot hole of shoko’s grey converse.

your scrambled mind thinks it’s the funniest shit on the planet. something of yours poking into something of hers.

even when you were off your face, you could make almost anything about strapping her. god, you were down bad for this woman.

“shooo, are you—hic—awake?” you call out, swaying from side to side as you giggle your way down the hall and into the lounge.

you peek your little head around the corner into the room and see your pretty girl sitting quietly.

she isn’t watching anything on tv or scrolling on her phone, no. she’s sitting back against the cushions with one leg crossed, her slender elbow hooked over the armrest, and a cigarette lit between her fingers.

her fingers… you wanted her fingers.

you smile so wide you’re scared your cheeks might split. the way she could so effortlessly draw you in by doing literally nothing seriously needed to be studied.

“heyy, sho?” you repeat, prancing over to the couch and plopping down beside her. you’re so happy she’s not asleep, that she’s here and with you, not in bed.

as she feels the couch dip, she hums in response. although it’s barely a sound. her cigarette lifts to her lips, then lowers.

you grin anyway and shuffle over, your body all heavy and loose. you turn and stretch out without asking, your cheek settling into her lap lovingly like you’d always done.

but, surprisingly, her hand doesn’t move to sift through your hair.

somewhere in your dizzy head, that registers as weird, but you choose to ignore it.

“why’re you up so late?” the words slur out despite trying to sound sober in front of her. you flush a deep pink in embarrassment and tip your face away.

“couldn’t sleep,” she mutters, taking another drag of her cigarette.

okay, you were used to your girlfriend being all mysterious and hot, but this seemed more like mysterious and upset.

“th’ party was dumb,” you mumble, trying to get something else out of her. “too many people. too loud. kept thinking about you the whole time.”

complete and utter silence.

oh.

you lift your head from her lap. “sho?” you ask quietly, your voice stripped bare of the slur from before. “you okay?”

she lets the smoke from her lungs slip from her nostrils, blowing it toward the open window beside the couch.

“m’ fine.” she takes another huff, then taps the smoky ash into a tray.

you sit up properly, folding your legs beneath you and turning to face her. you feel like you’re sitting where you shouldn’t be. her eyes don’t feel as kind or welcoming as usual.

“you don’t look fine,” you whisper under your breath, trying to keep that gentleness about you so she didn’t feel any sort of combative energy from you. “did something happen, baby?”

you see the last flick of light die from her eyes as she turns to look at you. “i dunno… just thought you’d be home earlier,” she murmurs flatly. “guess you were having a little too much fun,” she says with mock resolution, then doubles down, “with gojo and geto.”

those tiny wrinkles pull in between your eyebrows as your face scrunches in confusion. “hmm?” you ask. “what’re you talking about?”

instead of answering, she reaches for her phone on the coffee table. dully, she unlocks it and holds the screen out toward you.

it’s a video.

upon closer inspection, you recognise it instantly. it’s a replay of gojo’s story you’d seen earlier, @/sstoru heading the frame as a shaky video plays, grainy but in an aesthetic kinda way.

it’s of him and geto, laughing and looking like they’re having the time of their lives.

and then there you are.

wedged tightly between the two of them, smiling like you always do when you’ve had a few too many. the three of your bodies are packed so close. the place was packed, and there wasn’t anywhere else to stand.

the clip restarts.

then again.

and again.

fuck. you knew how bad this looked.

“that’s not—” you start to explain, then stop. your still-tipsy mind isn’t really helping you form coherent thoughts right now, let alone words. you look at shoko, then back at the screen. “i promise, honey, that’s not what it looks like.”

she lifts an eyebrow, barely.

“yeah?” she says. “because it looks pretty straightforward to me.”

you lean in, pointing without touching the phone. “no, listen. utahime was with me! i was just trying to get past them, it was wall to wall in there n' they were blocking the way to the kitchen.”

her face stays stone-cold and judging. your heart cracks at the look on your otherwise nurturing girlfriend’s face.

you start to panic, your inebriated head hating the idea of making her more mad than she very clearly already was. “s-someone spilled a drink,” you add fast. “everyone almost slipped. that’s why we were laughing, and why everyone was so close. we were moving away from the spill.”

you weren’t lying. god, you’d never lie to her.

but the way you’d just described the situation wasn’t helping your case. you were terrified of making her more upset, your nervous overexplaining and rambling making you seem more and more guilty.

she locks her phone and drops it back onto the table.

“yeah, well… doesn’t look like that,” she sighs.

you don’t notice your fingers digging into the couch until your knuckles start to sting and cramp.

“you know i wouldn’t do that,” you counter. “i was with yuki most of the night. you can ask her, sho. ask anyone.”

“i’m sure,” shoko replies. “you usually are.”

oof. that one stung.

“what’s that meant to mean?”

she shifts then, turning toward you fully.

“you’re always with someone you know damn well wants more than to be friends with you. you’ve had a thing with yuki, for god’s sake.”

“that’s not fair,” you say right away. “you know how girls are with this stuff. that was four years ago, sho, and we weren’t even dating. you know i can’t help that.”

“you can help being around those two idiots, though.”

“they’re my friends,” you say. “they always have been.”

she scoffs quietly.

“friends who’ve tried to sleep with you,” she says. “more than once.”

“before we were together,” you snap back. “and i shut it down. every single time.”

“and they’re still into you,” she says. “that part didn’t magically disappear.”

the space between you feels wrong now, like there’s not enough room to move without scraping against a wall with fifty thousand needles poking out of it.

“that doesn’t mean anything, okay? i’m with you.”

“how do i know that? when you’re out at these things with tons of people who would gladly fuck you silly,” she says. “how do i know you’ll stay with me? when you’ve had too much to drink and your head’s not on straight, how do i know you’re with me? i know how you are with attention, [name].”

you get goosebumps. your body goes still as you sit there and stare at her in shock at what just came out of her mouth.

“the fuck?” you quiz. “what are you saying?”

she holds your gaze sternly. the cigarette is gone, burned down to nothing. she rubs her fingers together, ash smudging into the crevices of her fingerprints.

“i’m saying people don’t respect boundaries,” she says. “especially gojo and geto. they never have. how am i supposed to be okay with you out there with guys like them, giving you all the love and praise you could ever ask for?”

“so what,” you scoff. “i’m just some attention whore? some untrustworthy hoe who can’t help but give in to a little temptation? just a bimbo who’d cheat on my girlfriend because a few guys give me a little too much of their time?”

you can tell you hit a nerve because her pretty eyes turn wicked with offence.

“that’s not what i’m saying,” she replies. “i’m saying you’re young. you’re still new to this whole committed relationship thing. i—”

you cut her off with a short laugh, pure disbelief more than anything. “‘new to this’? we’ve been dating for two fucking years!” you’re at the stage of being pissed off where every word out of her mouth feels like poison, and she’s getting there too.

“i haven’t thought of anyone else since the day i met you, shoko,” you say. “sure, i’m not as ‘old and wise’ as you think you are, but that doesn’t mean i’m just some dumb kid with no morals.”

“then why do you keep ending up in situations like that? why stay out so late? why get that drunk to the point they’re getting bold enough to post you practically grinding on both of them?”

“because i didn’t think i had to monitor every move i make,” you fire back. “because i trusted you to trust me.”

“sorry i don’t want my girlfriend out there not only looking like she’s single, but getting laid claim to by some assholes who don’t respect our relationship.”

she pauses before continuing.

“really makes you look slutty, [name]. what aren’t you getting about that?” she says it like you’re a child, using that belittling tone of voice you absolutely hate.

it’s clear she’s looking down on you, not face to face like you should be in a relationship.

you’ve never felt so small and worthless in your entire life.

shoko had always radiated that older, cooler girlfriend energy, but it never made you feel insecure for being less than or inexperienced.

but now? it feels like she’s looking at you like gum on the bottom of her shoe, like you’re too ditzy to handle grown-up situations.

at the start of your relationship, you’d tried so hard to leave your old lifestyle behind for her. the constant drinking, the constant functions, the constant attention. for two whole years, you stayed away from it all just for her.

you thought you’d done a good job bettering yourself, but now it seems like all your work was for nothing because she still sees you as an insignificant worm who can’t do this relationship thing right.

if the one person you care about most can’t appreciate the way you changed, then what’s the point of changing at all?

if she wants to veiw you as some reckless child, you’ll show her reckless child, ten times as hard.

~

after that night there was no sort of apology. not a half-hearted one, nor a defensive one. not even a muttered sorry thrown at your back when she thinks you’re sound asleep. shoko stands by what she said, and you can tell because she never takes it back. ever. not even when you're very clearly on the edge of losing your mind.

you stop reaching out to her like you'd always done. you don’t cuddle up to her on the couch anymore. you don’t climb into her lap to attack her face with kisses, and you don’t absentmindedly play with her slender fingers while she smokes. when she talks, you listen, but it’s sort of surface-level listening. like, you're politely landing an ear as if she were a stranger, not the woman you used to build your whole day around.

you used to be so sweet, that's why you attracted so many. everyone saw you as a bubbly, affectionate, always touching, always laughing at everything kinda girl. after all, you were the person who dragged her out of her shell, who made her feel less alone in rooms full of eccentric people.

now you just look tired.. fed up, bored, even.

you answer her questions with shrugs. with “mhm.” with “i dunno.” you don’t pick any fights, but you don’t smooth things over either. when she gets quiet, you don’t rush in to fix it like normal. and when she looks at you like she wants some sort of reassurance, you give her absolutely nothing.

if she wants to treat you like a reckless kid, you’ll show her exactly what that looks like.

you start partying like you were in freshman again. almost every weekend you'd go over to yuki or utahime's to pregame before the sun could even get a chance to set. then, you'd rock up to whatever frat had a function that day.

you post more, and it's not couple pics. not soft candid shots of shoko reading or smoking by the window. it’s just you now. lots of mirror selfies, pretty, blurred videos of you dancing with your friends.

and you start getting absolutely pissfaced.

nine times out ten you're ending the night with your head in a toilet or a shoved in a bush, throwing your guts up of the copious amounts of alcohol you'd consumed.

it feels like spitting in the face of the version of yourself you worked so hard to become.

and it feels good.

one night you're really letting loose at a backyard mixer, skulling alcohol and grinding up on utahime for the gag while people laugh and egg you guys on.

from across the yard a few of the guys you used to party with before shoko are gossiping like high schoolers.

they don’t think you can hear them at first.

“isn't that a sight for sore eyes,” gojo says, nodding toward you. “either she and shoko finally broke up, or she’s going through something.”

sukuna follows gojo's gaze and snorts. “mm, miss when she used to be fun like this. even let me touch up on her last week.”

“shit,” toji chuckles, “she's acting like she wants someone to pick her up and drag her home.”

gojo grins. “mhm, not exactly single behaviour. maybe we should try our luck.”

sukuna’s eyes flick back to you. “if she’s not hitched anymore, i’d say she’s fair game.”

they all laugh and smack eachothers shoulders like the horrible testosterone filled assholes they are, and continued eye fucking you from afar.

you knew the kind of attention you got when you acted like this, but you really couldn't bring yourself to care.

this is what shoko thinks you are, right?

fine. let her be right.

you let strangers touch your tighter when you dance, letting their greedy hands rest on your hips as you rock back and forth to whatever pitbull music was bumping over the speakers. you don't shoo them off like you usually would or tell them to get a life when they blatantly flirted with you, you just smiled and gave them a wishy washy answer that could be taken either way.

you don’t sleep with anyone, of course. but not because you couldn’t, but because an evil part of you wants to see how far you can go without crossing that line, wants to see if shoko will crack first and admit that this is mostly her fault..

when you come home, it's always so, so late.

sometimes she’s asleep, sometimes she’s on the couch, cigarette burning down in the ashtray, her once full sparkling eyes suddenly looking far more hollow. you don’t argue anymore nor do you ask any reassuring questions about how she's going. you drop your bag, toe off your shoes, lean down and press a faint kiss to her cheek.

then you go to bed, and you pass out.

you used to nag her twenty four seven, lovingly and always with a sweet smile.

you used to tell her to cut back on smoking then tell her she’d feel better if she got some air, if she went out, if she didn’t shut herself away all the time. you’d drag her out to do everything and anything with you, got her out of that depressive negitive feedback loop, always told her she deserved more than four walls and a pack of cigarettes.

now there’s no one doing that.

now she smokes four times as much.

she stays in more and isolates harder. she feels like the ghost of the girl she was. she skips meals. sleeps weird hours. lets the sink fill up with dishes because you’re not there to tease her about it anymore.

and it eats her from the inside out.

because she knows this didn’t come from nowhere. she knows she pushed you. knows she said something she can’t ever take back. she watches you pull away day by day, watches you turn into a self destructive version of yourself she both hates and recognises as her own fault.

she starts getting sick.

headaches that don’t go away. chest tight with an intense, agonising worry. her hands shake with uncontrollable anxiety when she lights a cig. she checks her phone every three seconds, monitoring your location, your stories, your posts. every party makes her stomach churn and sink like she's swallowed a bomb and it was set to detonate any second. every skimpy outfit feels like a threat to whatever's left of your relationship.

is she safe?

is she drunk?

is she with someone else?

does she still love me?

those thoughts don’t ever shut the fuck up. not when she’s alone n' not when she’s trying to sleep. not even when you’re right there in bed turned away from her.

she wants to reach for you so badly it rips every valve of her heart from the base. all she needs to do is apologise, and god she wants to, but her pride keeps her quiet.

and fear.

because what if she does apologise, and you don’t come back anyway?

so she stays stuck in her own head, watching you destroy yourself. watching herself sink to rock bottom right alongside you. knowing deep down that this spiral, this agonising distance, this is on her.

and she’s paying for it with every sleepless night, every cigarette, every unanswered “are you home yet?” text that stays on delivered, not even read.

~

choso [4:45pm]: sho

choso [4:45pm]: there's a party on friday, can you come??

shoko [4:47pm]: don't really feel like it, sorry choso

choso [4:47pm]: pleasee

choso [4:47pm]: you haven't been out of the house in ages... it's not healthy.

choso [5:23pm]: shoko?

choso [5:38pm]: if you come i'll give you a pack of 50 for free?

shoko [5:39pm]: mkay

shoko [5:40pm]: do yk if y/n's going?

choso [5:41pm]: shouldn't you know that?

she rolls her eyes at that last message and throws her phone aside in bed.

yeah. she should know, but you weren't really speaking to her at the moment. around three weeks have passed and what used to be polite conversation had diminished and turned into full on ignoring on your part, you were being so childish. that's what she thought, at least.

she could hear the run of the water from the bathroom, you were showering like you'd always done on weekdays, only she used to be right in there with you... rubbing her hands over your soapy breasts, pinching the nipples under the excuse of, 'cleaning them properly'.

shower sex was right up there in the things she missed in her now dead relationship. even thinking about it was making her clit twitch with need, you hadn't fucked in far too long. her fingers late at night while you partied weren't cutting it, she needed you grinding down on her, short of breath and kissing her neck in between gasps while your rode out your orgasm.

when the water turns off, the wetness in her panties dries from fear of being caught awake and feeling. she turns to her side under the sheets and takes a deep breath, shutting her eyes as if she were never there for you to ignore in the first place.

she bites her lip as the bed dips. you smell delicious, you feel warm and soft even from the distance you'd put between yourselves. you were so incredibly tempting, but she knew she didn't deserve it. not when she couldn't even muster up the courage to admit she was wrong, better yet apologise.

"sho, you awake?" she almost choked when she hears you mutter that softly into the air.

"yes." she manages to breath out.

"i.. good night."

"good night."

no, no! what were you gonna say? what were you thinking?! she wanted to know —fuck that— needed to know.

"y/n, i—"

"go to sleep, shoko."

...

"kay."

~

that party seemed to crash up on her faster than she'd anticipated, because now shoko was sitting lazily in a busted up lawn chair next to choso, smoking her lungs away from the pack he'd tossed her when she first arrived.

parties are supposed to be fun, that's what you were always making them out to be, so why the fuck did the pit in her stomach decide to open up and swallow her whole as soon as she sat down?

her anxiety was through the roof, but surprisingly it wasn't because of the people. she just couldn't spot you, anywhere.

when she got here, her first instinct was to try and pick you from the crowd like a good girlfriend would do. but you were no where.

the two of you didn't talk about this function, didn't see one another leave in seperate cars, or debrief about any sort of meet up during said function like any regular couple would do.

so she's left there with this dork choso, looking out onto the massive lawn like a loser, sifting through heads of hair like a gold panner.

after about an hour of worry warting and sipping her drink, she finally spots a silhouette that looks all too familiar playing beer pong about ten meters away.

she watches as you laugh and sink ever cup you try for, you were always so good at everything you did.

you finish the game with an overly dramatic flourish, slamming the last cup back and throwing your arms up. people crowd in around you, patting your back, shouting and laughing.

you feel free and young.

this is what you wanted her to see.

that you’re not delicate. that you’re not some kid she needs to manage or protect or lecture. that you can be loud and messy and wanted without her approval.

your eyes flick over the crowd, and for half a second, you see her sitting there watching.

your smile inflates, good.

you turn away almost immediately, letting yuki pull you toward the pulsating music again. you dance up against her and utahime with your back arching and your hands in the air.

choso peers over at his stressed out friend and decides to poke the bear.

"doesn't seem like you had much to worry about, she looks... normal."

this makes her sigh, because yeah, you weren't really doing anything she needed to be fretting over. just playing games with your friends, looking semi-coherent, and dancing away. everything was fine.

until it wasn't.

until half an hour goes by and she sees you down, not even kidding, around four drinks. one after the other.

she's jaw dropped, she hadn't seen you knock em' back like this since before you promised her you'd stop being so dependant on the stuff. before all of this messy bullshit.

"she's really throwing them down." choso mutters.

"choso, shut up." shoko was getting very antsy.

she gets worse when she sees a certain beefed up, green haired, pierced monster stalking his way towards you.

he slides in besides you smoothly and drags those gross yellow eyes all over your body. he's big, like, really big. it makes shoko a bit insecure seeing his hulking muscle and the way he absolutely dwarfs you in height.

you seem to be entertaining him, naoya, smiling sweetly as he leans down to talk.

“been a while,” he says, moving in just enough to be heard over the music.

you laugh, a little breathless, and nod. “yeah? feels like i saw you just yesterday at one of these things.”

his gaze dips down to your chest, then comes back up slowly. “well, don't you look good.”

you tilt your head, pretending to think about it. “i know.”

from across the yard, shoko's gone completely still.

she watches him move his body closer, watches him flex his arms without even pretending not to. she chose as his hands look like they're about to shoot out and grab you. that's fucking naoya, the guy who's known for quite literally being the worst, most misogynistic man there was. she knew you didn't know that, after all, you were two grades below her and naoya, but it made her go white.

her cigarette drops from her lips down into her palm, then into the grass, completely forgotten. her teeth latch onto her tongue and press down hard enough to draw blood.

this is what she was afraid of. not because she doesn’t trust you (contrary to popular belief (well, your belief.)), but because she knows how men, especially men like him, look at you. how quickly they decide you’re theirs to touch.

naoya laughs at something you say, loud and cocky, then he reaches out.

his fingers close around your arm.

that’s it.

shoko is on her feet before she’s fully aware she’s moved.

she doesn’t think nor does she weigh out the consequences. she cuts through the crowd with purpose and her chocolate eyes locked on you.

her hand closes around your other wrist and you don't realise until she's pulling you away from the towering man.

“hey—” you chirp, a laugh still slipping around on your tongue. she's unrelenting.

“sho, what the fuck—” you try again, but your words trip over themselves, drunk and confused and suddenly very aware of the way everyone is staring at you and your girlfriend.

she's got you dragged behind her as she squishes inside, then straight up the grand stairway into a quiet room, it looked like it belonged to nanami.

"hey, the hell r' you—"

"what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

oh.

she was yelling... at you... had you ever heard her yell before?

"do you know how—" she looks away from you with her forehead in her palm. "—jesus fucking christ— do you think? ever?! what the fuck do you think you're doing with that guy? you know he's literally known for assaulting girls!" she snaps.

you're still a little buzzed, so you shake your head and try to explain, "he's just friendly... yr' just j—hic—jealous."

"jealous? you think me being worried about my girlfriend getting potentially assaulted is jealousy?"

"i think you're pent up and need to chill the fuck—"

"y/n."

you pause. "...shoko?"

"i'm sorry."

...

"what?"

she wipers a hand down her face before looking you straight in the eye, elaborating.

"i know this is my fault, baby. i know..." she's backed up and sat down on nanami's bed, the room is perfectly dim for such a conversation. she turns her head towards the opens window, then takes a breath and continues.

“i fucked up,” she sighs.

you stare at her.

your head is still swimming, alcohol sitting heavy behind your eyes, but that cuts through it clean. the words land wrong because they’re right, and because you’ve been waiting for them far longer than you want to admit.

“you don’t just get to say that now,” you mutter, your arms folding. “not after weeks of acting like i deserved that shit.”

her eyes fall to the floor, “i know.” another deep sigh. “i kept telling myself i was protecting you, or that i was being realistic. but really, i was just scared, and i took it out on you because it was easier than admitting that.”

you scoff. “you called me slutty, shoko.”

her face crumples at that distasteful memory.

“i know,” she repeats, voice cracking now. “and i hate myself for it. i said it because i wanted to hurt you. because i felt small, and instead of dealing with that, i tried to make you smaller too.”

that stings worse than the insult did.

you turn away, pacing the edge of the room like a caged animal. nanami’s shelves blur past you. the open window lets in cold air that smells like smoke and dew.

“do you have any idea what that did to me?” you ask, not looking at her. “i spent two years trying to be better for you. trying to be enough. and then you made it sound like i was just pretending the whole time.”

she stands like she’s afraid you’ll bolt.

“i never thought you were pretending,” she says. “i thought you were slipping away from me. and instead of telling you i was scared, i tried to control you.”

you laugh under your breath. “congrats. worked great.”

“i know.” she rubs her face with both hands. “and watching you lately… it’s been screwing with me. every party, every post. i kept thinking you were punishing me.”

you stop and turn back to her. “i was,” you say. just say it. “i wanted you to see what you thought of me. i wanted you to hurt.”

she nods again, bubbly tears sticking to her messy mascara now. “i deserve that.”

“no,” you snap, then push a hand through your roots. “you didn't. i went overboard, i know that, sho... i just... i just wanted you to admit you were wrong.”

she rakes her eyes from your head to toe, squeezing her eyes shut letting the built up tears flow down.

“i missed you,” she chokes. “even when you were right there in front of me. god, especially then.”

“you think i didn’t miss you?” you shoot back. “i came home every night hoping you’d say something. anything. and you’d just sit there like you were waiting for me to finish ruining myself.”

her shoulders curve into herself. “i was scared if i spoke, you’d leave.”

“so instead you let me spiral?”

“i didn’t know how to stop it,” she admits. “and i didn’t think i deserved to.”

that takes the wind out of you.

you sink down onto the edge of the bed exhausted. the fight in you drains out.

“i was wrong,” she says softly. “about you. about trusting you. about everything i said that night... it was so fucked up, baby, i—"

you swallow. “—i was wrong too. for trying to make you jealous instead of just telling you i was hurting."

she huffs out a pretty laugh. jesus, you missed that laugh. “we’re a mess.”

“yeah,” you reply. “i guess.”

her hand hovers between you for a second before she lets it fall back to her lap. “can i… can i touch you?”

you nod, then her delicate fingers brush over yours slowly, and when you don’t pull away, she curls them around your hand, tight and achingly missed.

“i missed this,” she admits.

“me too,” you reply. your voice goes soft despite yourself. “i missed you. not the girl who was kinda being a jerk, but yeah, you.”

she squeezes your hand and laughs gently again. “i'm gonna try my best to be better, honey, trust me. i can't fucking deal with you not being right next to me."

you look at her, eyes glassy, makeup probably smeared, pride stripped bare.

“so will i,” you say. “but i need you to stop seeing me as something you have to nit pick.”

you lean into her then with your forehead pressing into her slender shoulder. she wraps an arm around you tenderly and nuzzles your neck.

“i missed you so much” you whisper. that girl who liked to be dependant on your lovely girl was creeping back up on you, you felt all gooey, like you needed to be cradled and fussed over after weeks of neglect.

“i know,” she says, voice breaking. “i know.”

deep down you both know this doesn't completely solve things, there’s still a lot of emotional damage to deal with, still some habits to unlearn (again), still trust to rebuild.

but this was a start, a start to healing the love between you and the girl you'd admired most in this world.

"love you, sho."

"i love you more."

you both spend an hours just sitting in the company of one another, talking and sharing your emotions fully and completely. you converse deeper than you ever had before as she twirls your middle finger with hers. the motion is so familiar. you begin to mourn the loss of her, of her fingers... of the way only she could make you feel.

"shoko, can we go home? i... i want to be with you."

she seems to understand your whiny little plea immediately, she tilts your head to look up at her. "horny even now, huh? what a desperate thing you are."

~

now, after driving you home and missing you sensless the moment you'd walked through he the door, she's got you pinned to the bed you'd previously spent weeks not touching eachother in.

“shoko,” you choke out, your voice is already so fucked out from the kissing she jsut laughs. she tilts her head, watching you like she’s both amused and sadistically obsessed. “please, god,i need you.”

“need what, hm?” she teases, the bow of her lip disappearing as her smile grows.

“you,” you whisper, and the little quiver in your tone satisfies her greatly.

her hand teases your with small squeezes moving across your skin in ways that make your heart smack against your rib cage embarrassingly fast. “here?” she asks, with hers hand pressed into the plush of your thigh. you shake your head, breath catching, and she adjusts, placing it at the lowest part of your tummy, pressing down making you moan softly.

“closer,” you choke, and her finally slip down under your soaked panties and find their rhythm pumping slowing in and out of your cunt. she watches your face contort and churn together in pleasure, obsessing over the adorable way your eyes flutter before your irises roll back.

“tell me,” she whispers. “how much do you want me, sweetheart?"

“so much,” you whine, hiding your face in her shoulder so sweetly. she hums softly as her hands start pulling you closer. this makes her pick up the pace, plunging deeper and deeper with each pull from your throat.

“just me, right?” she smirks. “no one else?”

“only you,” you breathe, she presses a soft kiss to your temple, letting you melt against her.

the way she's finger fucking you is addicting, the moans spilling from your throat are otherworldly. every curl of her fingers has the pads hitting your sweet spot over and over again, abusing the poor nerve until tears flow down your cheeks while you chant, "shoko—shoko—shoko—!"

she coo's maniacally and shoves her lips against yours to catch the way her name tastes on your tongue.

every sigh, every tremble, every breath between kisses makes her embarrassingly wet, but she'd rather tend to you than ever put herself first.

“good girl,” she teases, drawing you closer and closer to your climax.

“you're mine,” she whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips, letting her free fingers toy with your hardened nipples.

you moan in ecstasy, finally letting go as she rubs you just the right way.

“always,” you manage to spit out after your collapse.

she cradles you in her arms as you go limp, “easy,” she smiles. the teasing glint in her tone had completely vanished replaced by her nurturing voice.

she reaches into the drawer grabbing out the wet wipes you kept handy. she washes you off briefly, then helps you get comfortable. tugging the blankets up and tucking them around you tenderly. her thumb wipes at your cheek, careful and apologetic.

“i’ve got you,”

she pushes a kiss into your hair, then another, then rests her chin there. “i missed you, baby,” she admits in the quiet.

"me too, shoko."

A/N oh boy, i'm glad that's over. talk about a messy,, undeveloped plot line 😭💔 i wanted to make this so much longer, but alas, i have too many requests to get through 😔

[lovely-maki]

Hi lovelies! I really want to write something but I literally have no clue what and with the new semester starting tomorrow lord knows i’ll be going to all of my classes 🫩 PLEASE GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS 🥹🙏🏽

[bbyxdarlinnnn-deactivated202602]

daily reminder: fuck ice. fuck ice agents. fuck trump. and fuck you if you support them.

[kamoswrld]

girls night!

synopsis: a drunk night with your bestie shoko leads to something more, and you don’t expect your roommate suguru to be home early from work! whoops

content: shoko x fem reader x suguru, smut with no plot, drunk sex, lesbian sex, heavy makeout, spitting in mouth, cunnilingus, scissoring, voyeur suguru, bj, cum shot

eli’s notes: something small hehe, suguru & shoko are my fav jjk ship so i thought id write something abt them <3 this is 1.4k and the fanart is by @/679sinner on here!

“that’ll be 15 dollars, ladies.” the taxi driver says with a smile.

shoko digs into her tiny purse, pulls out a crumpled twenty, and hands it over without waiting for change.

“keep it, handsome,” she slurs, winking at him through the rear view mirror.

you both stumble out onto the sidewalk, heels clicking unevenly, arms looped around each other’s waists to stay upright. the night air hits your flushed faces, cool and sharp, but it does nothing to sober either of you up. laughter spills out loud and messy as you fumble with your keys at the apartment door, shoko pressing her whole body against your back, chin hooked over your shoulder, breath hot with vodka and lime against your neck.

“fuck, hurry up,” she mumbles, fingers sliding under the hem of your top just to feel skin. “i gotta pee so bad.”

you finally get the door open and you both tumble inside, kicking off expensive heels that the two of you bought for nights like these that go flying somewhere into the dark living room. the place smells faintly like suguru’s cologne mixed with your vanilla candle from earlier. the lights stay off—neither of you bothers—and you collapse onto the couch together in a heap of limbs and soft giggles.

shoko sprawls half on top of you, head on your chest, one thigh thrown over yours. you run your fingers through her dark hair, twirling the silky strands around your knuckles, tugging gently just to hear her hum.

“your hair always smells so fucking good,” you whisper, nose buried in it.

she tilts her head up, eyes glassy and heavy-lidded, lips parted. “yeah? come closer then.”

you do—barely have to move—and her mouth crashes into yours. it’s not soft or testing. it’s drunk and hungry right away, lips sliding wet, tongues pushing in without asking. she tastes like tequila and the cherry gloss she kept reapplying all night. you suck on her tongue hard, pull it into your mouth, and she moans low, hips rolling forward into you. saliva drips between you, messy strings when you pull back for air, only to dive in again. she spits into your open mouth and you swallow it greedily, grinding your clothed pussy against the seam of her jeans.

“god, you’re soaked already,” she pants against your lips, hands shoving your skirt higher. “i can feel you through my fucking pants.”

you whine, dragging her closer, nails scraping down her back under her cropped shirt. the couch feels too small suddenly, too hot. you both slide off it in a tangle, hitting the soft carpet with muffled laughs that turn into gasps when mouths find each other again. clothes start come off fast and rough—her top yanked over her head, bra unhooked and tossed god knows where, your skirt dragged down your thighs. panties ripped off when she gets impatient.

skin on skin finally, warm and sticky with sweat.

you push her flat on her back, carpet soft under her shoulders, and crawl down her body. you got your mouth on her tits first. full, heavy, nipples dark and stiff. you suck one deep in your hot mouth, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch and curse.

“fuck— harder,” she begs, fingers twisting in your hair.

you double down, leaving red marks on her skin, then trail lower, kissing over her stomach, nipping at her hip bones until you settle between her spread thighs.

her pussy glistens, swollen lips parted, clit peeking out, dripping down to her ass. you don’t tease. you dive in like you’re starving, mouth open wide, kissing her folds slow and filthy. your tongue drags up her slit, collecting every drop, then you suck her labia into your mouth one side at a time, tugging gently, letting them pop free shiny with spit.

she bucks up, thighs trembling around your head.

“don't tease me— please—” she gasps, hips chasing your face.

you focus on her clit, flicking her bundle of nerves fast, then slow broad licks, sucking it between your lips until she’s shaking. you let two fingers slide inside her easily. she’s so fucking wet they sink right in, curling up to hit her sweet spot while your tongue keeps working.

her walls flutter, gripping your digits tight, and then she cums hard, thighs clamping around your ears, gushing over your chin and fingers. you lick her clean, gentle now, until she yanks you up by the hair for another sloppy kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.

when it comes time to be your turn, she flips you onto your back without warning, simply just spreads your legs wide and buries her face between them. no slow build—she goes straight for your clit, sucking hard, tongue lashing side to side while three dexterous fingers pump deep in your tight heat.

you’re already close from eating her out, her pleasure being yours, so it doesn’t take long. the feeling coils tight and snaps like a rubber band, your soppy pussy clenching around her fingers as you come with a broken cry, hips grinding up against her mouth, soaking her cheeks.

you’re both panting, sweaty, when the front door clicks open.

suguru, your roommate steps in, tie loosened, jacket over one arm, keys still in hand. the thought of him potientally coming home never crossed your mind. you were far too busy with her being nose deep in your pussy to even realize that he had just gotten home.

he freezes in the doorway, eyes going wide at the sight—you and shoko naked on the living room floor, thighs shiny, faces flushed.

for a second nobody breathes.

then his gaze drops to the obvious bulge straining his slacks then back to you two. probably the hottest girls he knows, his bestest friends, naked and fucking right in front of him. like any sane man would, he drops his bag, shuts the door quietly, and walks over slow.

“hey, don’t stop on my account,” he says, already unbuckling his belt as he sinks into the couch.

he shimmies out of his pants and boxers, taking his cock out. and you knew suguru was big, having accidentally gotten a glimpse passing by him in the restroom, but fuck, it’s big and pretty. thick, flushed dark, precum beading at the tip—and he wraps a fist around it, stroking lazy while he watches.

shoko glances at you, bites her swollen lip, and you nod in silent agreement.

why not give your roommate a little show?

you both crawl closer to each other on shaky knees until you’re between each other again. legs tangled, pussies slotting together perfectly—hot, slick, swollen. the first grind pulls a lewd moan from both of you. it’s obscene how wet you are, clits bumping, folds sliding so deliciously, juices mixing and dripping down to the carpet. you rock against her faster, harder, hands gripping thighs to pull her warm body impossibly closer. every slide feels electric, messy squelching filling the room.

“fuck, look at you two,” suguru mutters, fist moving quicker. “so fucking pretty like that.”

you cum first this time—sudden, sharp, squirting hard against shoko’s pussy in messy pulses. she follows right after, grinding down, her own release spraying over your clit and thighs. both of you tremble through it, hips still twitching, too sensitive but unable to stop.

suguru groans low. “come here—both of you.”

you crawl to him on weak legs, kneel between his spread thighs. shoko takes him first, her mouth sinking down, cheeks hollowed, spit dripping down his shaft. you lick at his balls, suck them gently, then you trade places. your lips stretch around his fat head, tongue swirling, taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat. shoko kisses you around his cock, tongues tangling with him in the middle, messy and greedy.

he doesn’t last long after that, pulling out from both your greedy mouths with a hiss as his fist starts pumping fast, and cums hard—thick ropes painting both your faces, across your cheeks and lips, dripping down your chins. you lick it off each other slowly, kissing each other slow and deep, sharing the taste while he watches, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand.

silence settles softly, broken only by heavy breaths and the distant hum of the city outside. shoko rests her head on your shoulder with a sated look on her face, fingers tracing lazy circles on your thigh.

suguru reaches down, thumb brushing a streak of cum from your lip, and smirks.

“girls’ night went well, huh?”

KAMOSWRLD 2025 ©

masterlist!

tags - @motel6killer @cupidstrace @leiceed @kunababy @1stqueenofhell @whimsic @jjukjus @callsign-honeybeewildfox2

[lovely-maki]

me when Shoko and Suguru

[sixxels-deactivated20260420-dea]

ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴀʏ… ~ ꜱʜᴏᴋᴏ ɪᴇɪʀɪ

loser!shoko x popular!fem!reader

summary! ࿐ྂ you don't swing that way. well, that's what you're always telling yourself. but, your entire brain gets re-wired when you catch sight of her, of shoko. the chick who's always these frat parties normally as high as a kite. she starts talking to you and you feel feelings you've never felt for a woman in your entire life... you want to indulge, but the life you live wouldn't allow it. right? (a lil angst to comfort, f/f sex, queer confusion.)

wc: 17.8k || artcreds: @/anta_baka00 || 18+ smut

the leather couch you find yourself lounging on is sticky and hard, but you ignore it. you're too focused on choso who's sitting right next to you with his body angled towards yours.

“i’m actually fucked for stats,” he says, knee brushing yours on purpose. “if i bomb it, nanami’s gonna kill me.”

you laugh and tip your head toward him. “you say that every semester and somehow, you still pass.”

“yeah, guess it's because i’m charming,” he smiles with his red eyes dropping to your lips. “and i know how to negotiate, y'know?”

this is very familiar territory for you, flirting with guys like choso always came so naturally. you touch his arm when you make a point and let your hand fall into his lap when he laughs. you’ve always been so annoyingly good at this.

men seem to gravitate towards you and your magnetic energy. you flirt, hang out, you hook up, sometimes it turns into a few weeks, sometimes it’s a bathroom at a party or a spare room upstairs.

choso keeps talking about finals, he’s clocked the low neckline of your top and the enticing glitter on your eyelids. he loved your look.

you yap on about some dumb all nighter you'd pulled with maki last finals when movement to your left steals all of your attention away.

someone falls onto the couch beside you.

you glance over without thinking and then your brain just… stops.

she’s closer than you’ve ever seen her. she's not across a packed room on some far away couch you can't really see. she's not out the back smoking a cigarette by herself.

she's here, right here, next to you.

shoko.

she’s wearing black, of course, but it’s not gross and try hard. she's got on a wellspring fitting cami with some jeans and nice shoes.

god, pretty isn’t even the right word to describe this woman. up close she's ethereal.

you realise you’ve never actually looked at her so near. she's normally laughing low with yuki or utahime in a different world than you in the background. now she’s close enough you can see her long lashes, her clear skin, that pretty beauty mark below her eye.

jeez, was she a model?

choso follows your line of sight and lifts his hand. “yo, shoko.”

she gives him a small wave without perking up. “hey.”

that’s it. no effort or over the top conversation starters. she was nonchalant from what you could tell.

choso turns back to you like the interaction never happened.

“anyway,” he says, leaning in again. “if i survive finals, you should come over. i’ll cook. i’m actually so goated at cooking.”

right. you nod automatically, but you’re not hearing him. your focus keeps faling sideways. you’re hyper aware of shoko. you were like a puppy in that sense, whenever you saw a pretty girl you had a sort of urge to be her friend.

only this time, the feeling felt.. off? was that the right word? like you wanted so badly to talk to her like you did with everyone else, but the thought of actually doing it was making you queazy.

why is this making you weird?

you try to ground yourself. this is nothing. she’s just a girl. a pretty girl, sure, but that shouldn’t matter. you’ve been around pretty girls your whole life!

choso’s ringed hand finds your plush thigh and squeezes it tightly. it makes you shiver and suddenly? not in a good way.

“hey,” you say desperately trying to deflect, forcing a grin. “you see gojo?”

he squints past you. gojo is strewn out on the frats expensive rug, laughing and gagging while geto tries his best to keep him upright.

“oh shit,” choso sighs. “he’s gonna puke.”

“yeah,” you say. “might wanna save the carpet.”

choso stop, then sighs. “damn it. i’ll be back.”

he’s up and gone in seconds calling gojo’s name.

you sit there with your cup in your hands, and you're suddenly very, very aware of yourself. your posture, your smile, the fact that you don’t know what to do with your face. when did this ever happen?

shoko moves to pull a cigarette from her pocket. she taps it against the pack, then lights it. the flame lights up her cheekbone for a second and your eyes snag on it.

you let out a laugh that comes out a little off. “uh. wow.”

she looks at you with the smokiest, seductive eyes, raising her eyebrow.

“sorry,” you say quickly. “girls don’t usually smoke. well. around me, i mean.” oh no. was that rude?..

you suppose not since she's now giving you a soft, delicate smile.

“yeah,” she says. “i get that.”

okay. she has a nice voice too. great.

you turn toward her fully, pulling out your biggest smile, the one that always charms people. “hey. my name’s [name]. it’s nice to meet you. i’ve seen you around here before, right?” god, i sound like a high schooler!

she looks you very slowly, playing with the cigarette in her hand. your stomach flips and you don’t know why.

“yeah,” she says. “i know who you are.”

... was that a good thing?

“oh!” you laugh. “all good things, i hope.”

“mostly,” she says, lips pulling up.

yikes, so no..

she leans back again with the cigarette balanced between her fingers, and something about all of this feels so unfair. like she’s not trying, like at all, and still winning.

you clear your throat and try to talk to her the way you do with every other girl, ask her some questions!

“so,” you say, tilting your head. “you looking to hookup with any cute guys tonight?”

she actually laughs. right in your face.

“hm,” she says. “definitely not my thing.”

your smile drops for half a second before you recover. “yeah? that's fair. not everyone’s into that.”

“no,” she says, eyes steady on yours. “not everyone.”

you nod like that makes sense. maybe she’s just above it? maybe she’s one of those girls who hates hookup culture, that was fine! you'll talk about something else. you’re already lining up your next question to ask this beautiful women when hands grab your arms from behind.

“there you are.”

before you can react, you’re being lifted up, laughing as well as awkwardly protesting as a group of your friends haul you off the couch.

“wait, what-”

“come on, come on,” one of them says. “we gotta go.”

you twist around with your heels barely touching the floor. “hey, i’ll catch you next time,” you call out to shoko.

she lifts her hand again, cigarette still between her fingers. “sure,” she says.

and you're pulled off for good.

they reel you out to the back porch as you free your arms and whip your head around to scowl at your overly confident friends.

“what the hell was that?”

one of the girls scoffs. “we were saving you.”

“from what,” you say. “a new friend?”

they exchange looks and then burst out laughing.

“from looking like a fucking lesbian,” one of them says.

the word spikes you through your already pumping heart.

“w-what do you mean,” you ask, becoming more and more oblivious.

they roll their eyes. “that’s shoko. she’s like, the token lesbian. always high off her face talking to her other lesbo friends. you really wanna be seen all over her?”

“yeah,” another adds. “people will talk. you’ve got a rep.”

your face feels hot, not with embarrassment but with a rising feeling of anger. “so what? i was just being nice.”

“sure,” she says. “but people don’t read it that way. we didn’t want you embarrassing yourself over some gay loser.”

your mind jumps back to shoko’s smile. 'not my thing.'

oh.

“that’s what she meant,” you mumble.

“what.”

“nothing.”

you open your mouth to spit something back, to say something equally as rude to these insensitive jerks, but the porch door swings open and they’ve already gone back inside, mean laughter following behind them.

you’ve been left standing there with a pounding heart and an extremely confused brain.

not her thing, huh?

~

gojo’s room stunk of dior sauvage and pineapple vape vapour. why anyone would choose pineapple over something like grape or watermelon still baffles you, but whatever. still, it wasn't necessarily a horrible smell, he had the window cracked open, so there's that.

the white haired man pulls out of you with a long groan, then pushes himself up on one elbow and grins down at your naked body, his hairs a mess, his eyes are happy as if he didn’t just wreck the bed. “wow,” he coos. “you're always such a good lay, babe.”

you snort, reaching for your discarded bra. “you’re so welcome.”

he laughs and rolls onto his back, stretching out like a cat. you’ve known him too long for this to be awkward, sleeping with gojo has always been easy. you’re both hot, popular, both bored enough to circle back to each other whenever the timing lines up.

friends first and benefits second. it works out.

he pulls himself up to sit on his elbows again. “seriously though. ten out of ten, would recommend.”

“what a charmer,” you say, smiling.

“what can i say.”

you swing your legs over the side of the bed, and grab your underwear.

would now be a good time to pick this guys brain about the girl who's been haunting your dreams ? probly not, but fuck it we ball.

you move around like you need to say something or it'll make your head explode into a bajillion tiny pieces.

gojo notices. “you good?”

you sigh, then pull up your underwear.

“hey,” you say. “can i ask you something?”

he blinks. “uh. sure? kind of late to get shy now.”

you roll your eyes. “not that.”

he waits, still naked, completely oblivious of the brain spiral you’re about to drag him into.

“what do you know about shoko?” you ask.

okay, it's out in the open. nothing you can do now.

gojo’s smile flickers, confusion flashing across his face. “uhm, shoko?”

“yeah,” you nod. "like. what’s she like? and uh. if she has a… partner.”

you almost say girlfriend but that word feels so weird in your gob.

gojo lets out an awkward laugh. “damn, talk about whiplash. you ask that now?”

your cheeks warm up. “urgh, just answer.”

“okay, okay,” he says, hands up. “relax.”

he scratches the back of his neck, thinking. “she’s been friends with me and suguru since highschool. she’s cool. kind of quiet but she’s funny if you like katie b kinda humour. smokes a lot, drinks a lot. yeah, that's pretty much it."

hm, that lines up well with the vision in your mind.

“and,” he adds, “no. she doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

you exhale with your shoulders dropping. relief?

no. not relieved. that’s not the word, you don’t care, obviously. it’s just curiosity.

gojo squints at you. “why do you look like that?”

“like what,” you throw back.

“like you just found out finals got cancelled.”

you scoff. “shut up.”

he studies you for a sec, then shrugs. “whatever. you’re weird.”

he doesn’t pry because why why would he?

the thought of you being anything but the girl you are doesn’t even cross his mind.

you force a smile and stand up. “hmm. this has been fun, but i gotta run.”

“already,” he says, pouting like a baby. “come on. stay! we can talk, or cuddle, or something!"

you grab your jeans, shaking your head. “maybe next time.”

he reaches for you, fingers brushing your wrist. “please?”

you laugh and gently pull away. “you’re so needy.”

“you love it.”

"mm, debatable."

you grab the rest of your shit and head for the door. you did feel bad, but let's be honest, if you stayed and 'talked' you'd just circle the conversation back to shoko, and you didn't particularly want to face the strange feeling in your stomach when it came to her name.

gojo sits up, catching you before you leave. "hey! there’s a party tomorrow night. you should be my plus one.”

you pause at the door. “sorry, satoru. i’m already invited.”

“yeah, but.. still. you should find me.”

you grit your teeth into something that looks like a smile. “if i see you.”

he opens his mouth to say more, but you’re already pulling the door open.

“later, gojo.”

“later,” he calls, mock offended. “text me.”

you don’t answer. you shut the door before he can keep whining.

you step out and oh. you forgot where you were, their frat.

perfect.

you slip your shoes on trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping not to run into anyone else. half the guys here have seen you naked. the other half have tried. the last thing you need right now is a comment or a look.

you turn a corner and nearly crash into toji who's shirtless, a towel resting over his shoulder.

he raises a brow. “leaving so soon?”

“god." you say. “don’t start.”

he smirks. “didn’t plan on it.”

you pass choso in the stairwell, who gives you a small nod like he wasn't tryna get it on last week. you return it.

thank the lord, you're finally out of that maze.

a week. it’s been a whole week and she’s still there poking around in your head. you just had like... a friend crush on her, right? you just wanted to be her friend. that's it. just really, really badly..

after all, finals are coming, functions are becoming few and far between. your brain just needs something else to latch onto.

that’s it.

you head down the porch steps with your bag in your hand, trying not to think about tomorrow night, where you know she'll be.

~

the frat looks... unrecognisably good (?) for once.

tinsel is wrapped from top to bottom around every single railing, pretty fake snow is sprayed all over the windows, inflatable candy canes are shoved into corners to hide the cracking dry wall.

definitely nanamis handy work.

mariah carey is bumping over the jbl's as people sing their hearts out to her music.

is christmas technically over ? maybe. but college kids don't give a fuck, its festive!

you’re sat up on one of those really high tables that overlook the lounge room and makeshift dance floor, with your stocking covers legs crossed over one another, and the heel of your shoe caught on the steel rung.

the fluffy santa dress you're rocking is very fitting, very much mean girls jingle bell rock coded. its short enough to be sexy yet fluffy enough to stay in the... post, christmas spirit. (if you don't celebrate christmas plz scrap all of this and say it's a regular party.)

now, you usually liked this table because it gave you such a good view of everything, but right now both your left, and right peripheral was obstructed by two hunks of meat. toji and sukuna, squished in on either side of you, talking obnoxiously loud about baseball. urgh. when did you ever give a fuck about baseball? go play a real sport.

“i’m telling you,” sukuna says, knocking his knee into the table leg, “my home runs were perfect last semester.”

toji snorts. “nah, you got lucky.”

“jealous ass. skill isn't luck.”

you hum noncommittally, they were talking at you, not with you, after all. occasionally you'd nod at the right moments, with your pretty eyes wondering and unfocused. you don’t care. not even a little.

how could you care about these idiots when your mind was focused on such a perfect thing.

shoko.

she was sitting on a far away couch on the other other side of the room, right infront of you.

you sat there staring straight at her with wide, intuitive eyes. head propped up on your palm like you were being caught day dreaming in class.

shes wearing that same black cami with jean shorts this time, and a very large santa hat sitting atop her beautiful head of hair. a cigarette licks smoke into the air from between her fingers. she'd been smoking every time you'd seen her, that had to be bad for her lungs...

you feel it again, that magnetic pull. that annoying, persistent urge to go talk to her, to finish that dumb conversation you'd wanted to have so bad.

it’s been a week and it hasn’t gone away.

“you listening?” toji asks, elbowing your side.

“yeah,” you lie. “totally.”

sukuna squints at you. “you’re staring.”

“am i not allowed?” you say, not breaking eye contact with the couch.

they follow your gaze.

oh.

toji snorts. “seriously?”

“what?” you ask, innocent.

“you’re looking at shoko,” sukuna says flatly.

“what do you guys know about her?.”

fuck it, if you could pick gojos brain about her then these two were next up.

he rolls his eyes. “dunno. i don’t fuck with those lesbian chicks.”

you blink. “good thing no one asked that.”

toji shrugs. “she’s cool. kind of a shame though.”

“a shame?" you echo.

“yeah,” he says. “she’s pretty. too bad she likes girls.”

your heart blips and you don’t know why. god. did everyone know this girl but you?

“does she have many friends?" you ask next.

sukuna thinks for a second. “not really. yuki and utahime hang around her sometimes."

toji nods. “she keeps to herself.”

“how does she even get invited?" you ask.

“her and shiu go way back, so.” sukuna explains.

you peer back at her as she silently smokes to herself.

“well,” you say, hopping down from the stool. “i’m gonna change that.”

both of them look kinda annoyed you're leaving so soon.

“where are you going?" toji asks.

“to talk,” you say, stepping away.

sukuna scoffs. “have fun.”

you weave through the dance floor, some more drunken people smash into you, hands brush your waist, someone yells your name. buy you ignore it all you're too focused on one thing.

you stop in front of the couch and take a deep breath, you can do this. then slide into the open space beside her.

shoko startles for a second, with her eyes fanning over to you. you want to cry at the was her brows furrow together.

“…oh,” she says. “you.”

“hi,” you say, a little breathless.

she looks you over, then smirks. “i thought your friends would’ve scared you off with all the dike allegations.”

the word hits so, so wrong..

your shoulders go all stiff and tense. “hey, don’t say that.”

she tilts her head. “hm?"

“that word,” you say quickly. "you're not... that. don't say such horrible words about yourself.”

her pretty face somehow get prettier with the way her eyes go all soft on you “yeah. fair.”

you swallow. “they didn’t scare me off. i just wanted to talk to you.”

“why,” she asks bluntly.

you panic. “because i think you’re cool. and i wanted to be… friendly.”

you almost say friends, but that feels like a little too much right now. i mean, you've only talked to her twice now, and the first one was nothing to write home about.

she looks over your fave for a minute then smiles and holds out her hand. “yeah? well, i’m shoko. nice to meet you. for the second time.”

your face ignores as you take her hand, her soft, delicate hand. wow, she felt like fluffy slime.

“i’m [name]. yeah. nice to meet you." you stop. "for the second time.” she laughs and lets go of your hand.

you desperately search for the next conversation starter and gesture at her head. “good effort.” you pause. “oh shit. that sounded rude.”

you slap a hand over your mouth. “i meant it’s cute. it looks cute!" good save.

she laughs again. “relax. its fine. not really a good effort anyways since it’s shiu's. i didn’t even wanna dress up.” yeah, that tracks. she glances down at you, eyes lingering. “your outfit’s cute tho, what is it... like, sexy mrs. claus?” you stutter. “th-thank you! and yeah, i guess that's what i was aiming for.”

she gives you that beautifully bored smirk and you suddenly forget ever social skill you'd ever learnt from being pretty and popular.

she seems to clock that and decides to save you. “so,” she starts soft. “are you here to hook up with any cute guys tonight?” she even tilts her head a little when she says it, clearly quoting you, asshole. affectionate though.

your brain immediately blue screens.

oh god. this is bad. this is really bad. normally, this question would be nothing. you’d laugh, or maybe deflect, or say something flirty and vague, maybe even name drop someone if you were feeling extra spicy. you’re good at this, hell, you’re built for this.

except right now you’re painfully aware of how you’re sitting. how your legs are crossed. how your hands are folded in your lap like you’re waiting for a fucking job interview. what if you say yes and she thinks you’re a slut?. what if you say no and she thinks you’re a boring loser. what if she thinks you’re lying! what if she thinks literally anything at all?!

your silence reeeeally stretches. shoko’s smile turns into empathetic confusion. "…hey,” she says. “are you okay? are you high or something?” oh my god. you choke on a laugh. “what? no. god. do i look high?”

“a little,” she says honestly.

your face feels hotter and hotter. “oh, wow. that’s not good.” she laughs, then reaches out. her fingers wrap around your hand. the contact sends your thoughts scattering even worse.

“seriously,” she says. “you’re acting like you’re about to bolt.” you swallow and then, for some reason, the truth just spills on out. “i’m usually really good at talking to people,” you blurt. “like, really good. and i’ve wanted to talk to you properly since the last time we spoke, but i just can’t seem to say the right thing around you and now i feel insane and weird and probably unlikable and i’m so sorry if this is uncomfortable for you i just-”

“hey,” she cuts in gently. your rambling grinds to a stop. she’s smiling, again. that damn smirk. “everything’s fine,” she says. “you’re not weird. and you’re definitely not unlikable.”

you blink at her. “really?”

“realy,” she echos. “i actually like that you came over.” something starts pumping harder in your chest so fast it almost makes you dizzy.

“i’d love to be friends,” she adds. “and we should totally talk more.”

oh! that heavy, awful pressure you didn’t even realise you were harbouring just disappears. poof. you let out a laugh that sounds like relief than anything. “thank gosh.”

she chuckles. “that bad, huh?”

“you have no idea,” you say, squeezing her hand once before realising you’re doing it and quickly letting go. “nthank you. seriously.” you start to open your mouth again, ready to actually talk this time, when a dumb mop of white hair in your peripheral vision catches your eye.

he's drunkly slurring your name as he stumbles towards you. gojo. he’s clearly off his face. like, aggressively so. sunglasses indoors drunk.

“y/n,” he calls, voice carrying way too far. “there you are!”

shit. you remember telling him you’d talk to him if you saw him. you also remember how badly you don’t want to leave this couch.

so, what more logically sound thing could you possibly do in a situation like this?

you grab shoko’s wrist and stand up. “come on.”

she laughs, surprised. “what? hey-"

you tug her after you, squeezing through the crowd again, your hearts racing but this time it feels exciting. behind you, gojo shouts something that sounds like “rude!” but he’s laughing too hard to understand.

by the time you push through the back door and onto the porch, you’re both giggling.

you collapse onto the outdoor couch, shoulders brushing one anotherw.

“wow,” shoko says, still smiling. “kidnapped.”

“he would not of left me alone,” you say. “i’m so sorry.”

“don’t be,” she says. “that was kind of fun.”

"right?" you smile.

she reaches into her pocket, then sighs. “shit. i lost my cigarette.”

you make a noise of sympathy. “tragic.”

she snorts and pulls out another, lighting it with her long, slender fingers. the flame pirouettes over her face for a second and you find yourself staring once again. big surprise. she catches you this time.

“so, do you smoke?” she asks.

“no,” you say quickly. “never.”

“yeah,” she says, amused. “i figured from last time. looked at me like i'd committed a crime.”

“oh shoosh.”

“hey, i'm just observant.” she takes a puff, then glances at you sideways. “you wanna try?” your heart jumps. “me?”

“yeah.” smirks. you shudder, but nod nonetheless. “o-okay. sure.” she laughs softly, then brings the cigarette to your lips instead of handing it over. her eyes stay on yours as you lean in, lips closing around the filter.

it feels so intimate. way more than it should.

you inhale. and you immediately regret it. you cough, bending forward, wheezing like your lungs are on fire. “oh my god! why- how do people do this-” shoko bursts out laughing and wraps an arm around your shoulders steadying you. “easy, easy.”

you finally catch your breath, face burning, and then you start laughing too. uncontrollable. embarrassed. alive.

“hmm,” she hums. “probably not for beginners.”

"oh wow, that was bad,” you wheeze.

“you're okay. i promise." you lean back against the couch with your shoulders still touching. shoko glances at you in the dark. her face adorns a soft and contemplative look. “you know,” she says, “i think you’re really cool.” you turn toward her, very surprised.

“mhm,” she continues. “i’m glad you still wanted to talk to me. even after whatever your friends probably said.”

your throat constricts a little. “they just don’t get you.” she smiles at that. “you’re probably the coolest person i’ve ever met, by the way. like ever,” you say, very open and earnest. “and i’ve met a lot of people.”

she laughs although it's adorably shy this time. “i’m glad.”

the half assed christmas lights pulse softly around you as the party hums on inside.

right now the moment feels so perfect. you don't think you've ever had this much fun at a party before, just sitting out the back with this mysterious girl you'd only really properly met tonight. it was likely boring to others, but you'd never felt so content than with her, talking all night about absolutely nothing yet everything, all at once.

~

11am, monday.

phone number? secured.

snapchat? pinned.

her instagram? holy shit. she was the nichest most amazing girl probably ever. you wanted to cry.

all her posts had that grainy digi cam look to them, taken in graffitied spots in the city or long abandoned stair ways. she was cool, but like, on an intergalactic level. you were scrolling her page for what felt like the millionth time in your social studies lecture when choso slides into the seat next to you.

"whatcha doing?"

you jump in surprise and slam your phone face down onto the table, causing the rest of the room to stare as you slap a hand over your mouth. "my bad guys..." a few people laugh before turning their attention back to the front.

"what, you got some guys dick pics on there? promise i'm not jealous." he smiles, snaking a hand around your shoulder.

you shiver at the contact. it's so much different to shokos, her arm was delicate and soft. it was warm and comforting in a way no meaty muscular bicep could ever be. you stand up in your seat and grab your lap top.

"sorry, cho. gotta go to the... to the bathroom! yeah, gotta pee. see yah." you wave at him and rush out of the hall down to the bathrooms. when the hell did you think about someone as much as you were shoko... not even your ex could occupy this much space in your running-a-mile-a-minute brain.

you don’t even realise you’ve slowed down until you hit the end of the hallway and nearly walk straight into them.

your friends. a whole cluster of them blocking the path like a poorly coordinated intervention.

“oh my god,” one of them says as soon as she sees you. “there you are.”

another chimes in. “okay but hello? you look hot today.” you laugh the fakest thing you can muster. "you too!" you'd hoped that'd be it. you could go freak out in the bathroom now. but, ofcourse not. "we missed you at the party,” someone else adds. “you disappeared. like, vanished.”

“yeah,” another chimes in. “we didn’t see you all night.” your stomach drops just a little. you already know where this is going.

you try to keep it light. “i was.. around.”

they exchange looks and their smiles turn slightly sour. a quieter girl at the back, someone you barely talk to, clears her throat. “i mean… i saw you.”

your eyes move to her. “yeah?”

she murmurs. “with shoko. out on the back patio.” there it is. the somewhat tame energy flips instantly.

one of them, a blonde girl, scoffs. “are you serious?”

“we literally warned you,” another says. “told you that was bad for you.”

“yeah,” someone laughs. “lowering yourself for some fucking dyke is crazy.”

that word.

“don’t say that,” you snap, way harsher than you mean to. they stare at you surprised. “what,” one says. “it’s true.”

“you’re better than that,” another adds. “we’re just looking out for you, fuck.”

“yeah,” someone else says. “don’t get dragged into that shit.” it’s one of you against ten of them. all you want to do it scream at them for being so insensitive and rude, but you can feel it. the way they close ranks without moving, the way their voices scoff from teasing to patronising.

your hands shake around your laptop strap.

“i’ve gotta go,” you say, forcing your voice. “i’m gonna be late.”

“don’t forget what we said,” someone calls after you. you give them a half hearted nod, wave once like you didn’t just get sucker punched emotionally, then turn and walk fast toward the bathrooms. once you’re inside, you push through the door and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection like it might explain something to you.

what the hell was that? you tell yourself you’re upset because they were rude. because anyone would be, right? because no one likes hearing someone they care about get talked about like that.

that’s it.

this weird tight feeling has nothing to do with shoko herself. obviously.

then, as you're half way through your crisis, the stall door creaks open behind you.

“rough day?”

you look behind you through the mirror.

and who other than yuki tsukumo steps out, washing her hands without a care in the world.

you plaster on your best smile and shake your head, the one that usually worked on anyone. you'd known yuki in passing but never personally, she was sort of just part of another group.

she laughs immediately. “nope. not that one.”

you drop it. “what?”

“you’re like, hardcore crashing out,” she says, drying her hands. “it’s very obvious.”

“yeah? well it’s none of your business.”

she grins. “what? guy trouble?”

you scoff. “no.”

“always no,” she says. “always lying.”

you roll your eyes and turn back to the mirror. “can you not.”

she leans against the counter beside you. “relax. i just said that because shoko said you were a little boy crazy.” you spin around, and like world vomit pouring out of your mouth really loudly, you boarder line scream. “shoko said that!?” you slap a hand over your mouth immediately.

yuki stares at you. “wow.”

“forget i said that,” you rush. “please.” she tilts her head. “why are you so jumpy.”

“i’m not.”

“oh you absolutely are.” you exhale, defeated. “just forget it.” she shrugs. “okay. but you brought her up.” you hesitate. “no, you did." you glare, then sigh like being mad wasn't worth it. "what else did she say about me?.." you ask quietly.

yuki’s brows lift. “oh?”

“just tell me,” you say quickly.

she hums, thinking. “she said you’re her new friend.”

“and that you’re a little ditzy,” yuki adds, quickly. your expression falls to that of a kicked puppy, one so sad even yuki feel a little bad, so she quickly recovers with, "she didn't mean it in a bad way! just that you were charming." you stare at the sink. “oh.”

yuki watches you with a smile. a big, teasing, horrid smile. then, she drops the million dollar question. "what? do you like her or something?”

your mouth counters before you can stop it.

“no,” you bark, stepping closer, getting up in her face. “and if you go around telling anyone that, i’ll fucking ruin you.”

yuki freezes and her eyes go wide. you instantly regret it.

“okay,” she says slowly. “wow.”

you grab your bag, heart racing, and bolt for the door. “forget this conversation.”

you don’t slow down until you’re back in the hallway with your head spinning.

what the hell was that?

you don’t yell at people, especially not people you barely know. you don’t threaten girls in bathrooms over hypothetical questions. this is not you.

all of this over one night. one conversation that turned into a few hours. one girl who sits quietly on couches and smokes too much. you grip the strap of your bag tighter.

friendship is not supposed to feel like this.

~

tuesday, 2pm.

shoko sits on the floor with her back against her couch, knees pulled in, and an ashtray balanced between her feet. her entire apartment smells like old incense and fresh smoke, which is a surprisingly pleasant smell. her windows cracked menough to let the fresh air leak in.

yuki is sunken into the couch behind her with one leg hanging over the arm and a cigarette between her fingers. she’s been quiet for a few minutes, which usually means she’s lining something up. shoko takes a drag and waits.

“so,” yuki says eventually. “you know that chick you were telling me about?”

shoko makes a vague noise, eyes on the smoke drifting toward the ceiling.

“the flashy one,” yuki adds. “your new little friend.” shoko doesn’t turn around but answers. “what about her?"

yuki laughs under her breath. “she went full berserk at me in the bathrooms yesterday.”

that gets shoko to look back. one eyebrow lifts. “berserk how?"

“like,” the blonde says, sitting up a little, “i make one joke and suddenly she’s in my face threatening my life.”

shoko sighs once. “you’re exaggerating.”

“i swear i’m not,” yuki says. “it was very intense.” shoko leans her head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “what did you say to her.”

yuki scoffs. “nothing crazy. i asked if she was having guy trouble. she said no. i joked that you said she was boy crazy.”

shoko groans quietly. “yuki?.”

“what,” yuki says. “that’s what you said.”

shoko pinches the bridge of her nose. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“i know,” yuki says. “i thought it was harmless. but the second i mentioned your name she got all weird.”

shoko goes quiet, rolling that over. yuki watches her. “then, i made an off hand joke. asked her if she liked you or something, and she got really defensive. like, scary defensive.” shoko stubs out her cigarette and lights another. “she probably felt threatened .”

“threatened by what?"

“everything,” shoko says. “her whole life is different to ours.”

yuki tilts her head. “explain.”

shoko shrugs. “she lives in a loud world. everything’s about perception. who she’s seen with. what it looks like.”

“and you’re a some big gay display?,” yuki asks.

shoko snorts. “something like that.” yuki studies her more carefully. “so you think she freaked out because she thought i thought she liked you?" shoko nods. “yeah.”

“not because she actually does?”

shoko doesn’t answer immediately. she takes a drag then lets it out slowly. “she’s under a lot of pressure just being around me at all. i get that.”

yuki raises a brow with a smile. “you’re being very generous.”

“i’m being realistic,” shoko says. “still,” yuki says. “people don’t usually threaten me over misunderstandings.”

the brunette smiles faintly. “she’s just dramatic.”

“true,” yuki admits. “but dramatic doesn’t usually come with that much panic.”

shoko shrugs again. “she was probably stressed.”

yuki goes quiet, then asks, softer, “so you don’t think she liked you. not even a little?"

the quieter woman shakes her head. “no.”

“really?"

“really.”

yuki squints. “even if she was gay?"

“she’s not,” shoko says easily. “and even if she was, i’m not her type.”

yuki laughs. “what’s that supposed to mean.”

“look at her,” shoko says. “then look at me.”

“i am looking at you.”

“exactly.”

yuki shakes her head, she's obviously unconvinced. “i don’t know. she was pretty goo goo eyes at that christmas party."

shoko stiffens slightly. “fuck, you saw that?." she sighs. "she doesn’t look at me any way.”

“she does,” yuki says. “like she’s trying to solve a math problem she really hates.” shoko huffs. “that means nothing.”

“sure.” silence settles between them, broken by a car horn outside. shoko flicks ash into the tray, movements slow. yuki shifts on the couch. “can i ask you something.”

shoko already knows. “you’re going to anyway.” yuki smiles. “do you like her?"

hm.

the question sits there as shokos lips stay sealed. she's not silently confessing but it doesn't seem like she's outright ruling it out either. yuki waits. “shoko.”

she stares at the wall. a crack runs from the corner down toward the baseboard, something she’s been meaning to fix.

“that wasn’t the question,” yuki says gently.

shoko closes her eyes for a second, then opens them. “i don’t know.”

yuki lets out a breath. “that’s not a no.”

shoko doesn’t argue. “you said she wasn’t your type,” yuki presses.

shoko shrugs. “no. i said she wouldn’t like someone like me. that’s different.” yuki glances back at her. “is it? you’re in trouble,”

shoko scoffs. “don’t start.”

“i’m serious,” yuki says. “this is how it starts.”

“nothing is starting.”

“sure.” shoko disregards the conversation and pulls her attention back to the window. behind her, yuki lights another cigarette and lets the conversation drop.

for now.

~

from then on, a day or two pass by of you avoiding your friends in the hallways, and dogging them at functions.

you were now snuggled up in your apartment, you’re curled on your side in bed, wrapped in stupidly pretty pajamas that cost too much for something you only wear to sleep. hair fanned out on the pillow. lashes resting against your cheeks.

you look peaceful, you are not.

your subconscious brain fills your mind with a dream that feels like it'll be nice, calm, but that escalates very quickly.

you're sitting on a couch, is it yours? you can't tell. what you can tell is, shoko's sitting right next to you, with one of her legs thrown across your lap and her hand's digging into your hair. her voice is seductive and so, so close to your ear.

"i know you want me, y/n."

her hand slides up your thigh.

"just let me take control."

jesus this feels wrong and right all at the same time. she smiles, then kisses you. so deep it alludes every sense you have.

the dreams blurs and morphs together, one second she's between your thighs making work of your clit with her tongue, flicking back and forth over the bud as she stares you dead in the eye.

next she's got ghat same tongue down your throat as her fingers work you from the inside, pulling the sweetest noises from your mouth.

you're gasping, moaning, whining under her expert touch, everything feels like pure bliss, pure uninterrupted bliss.

she's pinching at your breasts, running her lips over the nipples kissing them softly.

your own hands start to wonder, hesitantly cupping her own, playing with the plush flesh that seemed to up your horny stat by a million. just as you're about to be bold, to finally let yourself go and touch her where you know she wants it, you wake up all at once.

you gasp and sit up straight like you'd been possessed, huffing and puffing as your sweat slick body heaves.

oh my god.

your body is still reacting and you hate that. hate how real it felt. you hate how easily your brain went there.

with her.

“fuck,” you whisper.

you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, pacing once, twice, maybe movement will make it all better. you grab your phone off the nightstand with shaky fingers and don’t even think before you hit maki’s name.

she answers on the third ring, her harsh voice coiled with sleep. “you better be fucking dying.”

“i need you,” you say. there’s a pause. then fabric rustling. “okay. that’s not normal. what happened.” you fall down onto the edge of your bed, elbows on your knees. “i just woke up from the worst dream of my life.”

“worst like scary or worst like you’re being dramatic.”

“worst like i might not be straight anymore.”

that wakes her up.

“…oh,” maki says. “okay. yeah. i’m sitting up.” you laugh weakly. “great.”

maki has always been the one girl you feel like you can turn to. she's your friend who's not like those other girls, she's funny as hell, knows how to read a room, and most importantly, not judgey.

your real best friend.

“start talking,” she says. “slowly, though.”

so you do. you tell her about that first night you met shoko and how badly you wanted to be her friend after that, how much worse it got when you saw her for the second time.

you spew on and on about the hours long conversation you had with her about school, life, friends, all on the patio of that dumb frat.

you tell her about yuki and about the bathroom, about how she mentioned you liking shoko and you losing your temper so bad it made your hair stand on end just thinking about it.

still have to apologise for that...

“that tracks,” maki mutters. “you hate not being in control.” you wince. “okay, just clock me i guess.”

you tell her that you thought you just wanted to be her... best friend? well, you were friends now and you still yearned for more, so that had to be it. right?

“and now,” you say quietly, “i just had a wet dream about this girl. what the fuck?.”

maki laughs then asks, “are we talking full on?” you groan and flop back onto the bed. “sopping wet. i hate myself.”

she laughs again, not mean. “wow. okay.”

“don’t laugh.”

“i’m laughing because this is huge for you,” she says. “and also because you sound like you’re about to combust.”

you stare up at the ceiling. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i don’t even think i like girls.”

“mm,” maki hums. “yet you just had your subconscious write a fanfiction on some yuri shit.”

“can you die?.”

she ignores that. “listen. you don’t have to slap a label on this. you don’t have to announce anything. you met one girl who made your brain go a little crazy, that's it."

“that’s not normal.”

“it is if you’re discovering yourself,” she says. “late bloomer kinda thing. very chic.”

you rub your face with both hands. “but i’m not gay.” maki doesn’t miss a beat. “everyone’s a little gay.”

you snort despite yourself. “that’s not helpful.”

“it is actually,” she says. “because it means you’re not some weirdo. you’re just human.”

you roll onto your side, clutching a pillow to your chest. “i’m scared i’m gonna mess this up. i don’t want to make her uncomfortable. or make myself look like a poser trying to covertly bully her, she's told me she gets picked on a lot.”

“you already look like a poser,” maki says. “affectionately. just means you're a pretty fem.” you smile. “what, so girly girls can't be gay?.”

“i thought you weren't gay?,” you're real quiet at that. she continues. “look, from what you’ve told me, she likes you. at least as a person. you’re not imagining that.”

“but what if i am.”

“then nothing happens,” maki says. “and you survive. but if you freak out and overthink and self sabotage, you’re gonna regret that way more.”

you sigh. “so what do i do?"

“don’t be weird,” she says simply.

“…that’s it?"

“be yourself,” maki adds. “the version of you she already likes. let it play out. if it stays friends, cool. if it turns into something else, also cool.”

you stare at your ceiling again, at least your chest felt a lil lighter than it did five minutes ago.

“you’re so annoyingly right,” you say.

“i know,” she replies. “it’s my thing.”

you glance at the clock. too early and too late. “thank you for answering.”

“always,” maki says. “text me if you crash out again.”

“i will.”

you hang up and set your phone back on the nightstand. the room is quiet again. your body is finally calming down. the dream keeps poking through at the edges of your brain, but you sweep them off.

you curl back under the covers, staring at the dark.

don’t be weird.

easy for maki to say.

you close your eyes anyway, shoko’s smile flashing behind them, and let the night settle around you.

~

having that conversation about your feelings had really put things into a somewhat comfortable perspective. you were confused, that's all. very confused.

pretending you didn't have a sex dream about your new friend was surprisingly easy. it was around a week or two later and you'd successfully made sneaking off with shoko upstairs under the excuse of, 'accompanying her while she destroys her lungs.' a very regular thing.

you'd been to around three functions from that very messy crash in the bathrooms and the dream. and to be honest, you'd never been happier just existing with one person at a place meant for mingling with tens or hundreds others.

you'd both sit on either shiu's or geto's bed with the window open as she smoked two or three cigarettes. you'd talk, and she'd listen to everything you had to say, and visa versa. you'd learnt that she's a med student, she loves the smiths and mazzy star, and that her favourite time of day was dusk.

she was hands down the nicest girl you'd ever met, just so calm and down to earth.

although, the topic of sexuality was something the two of you really never touched on. it was like an electric topic you were staying away from. you didn't know if she was doing that so you felt comfortable and shoko didn't know if you were doing that because you felt uncomfortable, either way, the both of you looked silly dancing around it. tonight was no different, you'd both scurried upstairs away from the horny men and judgey women, crashing getos room and slipping onto his bed.

"god, didn't think we'd make it out of there. ino and gojo were really talking your ear off, huh?" shoko teases, leaning back onto the wall with her legs splayed out on the mattress. you laugh, sipping at the vodka cruiser in your hand as you fall back on geto's pillow.

"yeah well, gojos always talky. even in bed."

you watch as her eye brow twitches.

it's almost nothing, but you catch it.

shit.

eyes that were usually fluttering around carelessly were now pin pointed on you. scary.

“always?” she asks, voice even. you swallow around your sip. “i mean. i guess.”

she nods.

“so,” she says, casual again. “do you sleep with him regularly, or was that like.. a one night thing?"

oh.

now you were nervously peeling at the sticker on your bottle like a kid and biting the inside of your cheek. you don’t want her to think badly of you. you’ve never cared what people thought about this before. never once felt the need to explain yourself.

lying feels worse though, lying to her feels so wrong.

“yeah,” you say slowly. “i mean. yeah. sometimes. we hook up from time to time.” you risk a glance at her face. and its it’s subtle. so subtle you almost miss it. it's the way her mouth drops for half a second and her eyes dip down, then away.

something in your chest drops.

fuck.

you rush to fill the silence. “it’s not like. serious or anything. just fun. you know how it is.” you laugh nervous and she nods once. “yeah.”

you hate how flat it sounds. your brain scrambles, desperate to smooth it over, to level the ground between you again. “what about you?” you blurt. “so.. are you involved with anyone ? with any… girls?”

holy fuck. god, strike me down.

you clap a hand over your mouth. “oh my god. i’m so sorry. that came out so wrong. i didn’t mean it like that at all. i just meant like. romantically. or casually. or whatever. i swear i’m not trying to be weird or ignorant or gross. i just don’t always know how to ask things and i panic and then my mouth just keeps going and that sounds so ignorant i-”

“hey.” shoko’s delicate finger presses its pad gently against your lips, hushing you.

“don’t worry,” she says softly. “i know you didn’t mean it like that.”

your shoulders drop. as she lowers her hand and you definitely internally mourn the loss.

she smiles. “last girl i hooked up with was a couple months ago.”

“oh.”

“i’ve been taking a break.”

you nod. “that’s. cool.”

she studies you. “you don’t have to sound relieved."

you laugh nervously. “i’m not. i’m just. glad you told me.”

her pretty eyes soften as she looks you up and down, ever so slowly, and blurts out, "i’d tell you anything.”

the way she said that...

“hmm?,” you mumble. “i might take you up on that.” she sighs a laugh. “i’m serious.” you turn back. “yeah?”

“yeah.” everything's radiating that nice feeling

you get when you're with someone you really admire, every way you look the room seems to fit this vibe perfectly.

just you, and her.

you and this beautiful woman you'd been dreaming of, talking to guys about post hookup, calling maki over for the past week freaking out if you're secretly in some queer coming of age movie reincarnate.

just you, and her.

shoko shifts closer and her thigh brushes yours. not accidental. definitely not accidental.

“can i ask you something?,” she says. you nod way too fast. “yes.”

she tilts her head. “do you like... only swing one way?" your brain shuts off. your mouth opens. closes. opens again.

“i,” you start, then laugh nervously. “i think so. i mean. i’ve always thought so. i’ve only ever been with guys. and i’ve never really questioned it until recently. which is probably normal. or not? i don’t know. college makes everyone question everything. and i still like men. obviously. i’m not saying i don’t. but lately, ever since ive met you, i’ve been feeling weird. not bad weird. just different weird. and i don’t know if that means anything or if i’m just overthinking because i can't figure this out or-"

shoko’s hand cups your cheek and your voice cuts out.

her thumb moves slowly, smoothing down along your jaw like she’s pulling you back down to earth again. her deep brown eyes don’t leave yours for a second.

“you don’t have to explain,” she says. “i get it.”

you swallow. “you do?." she nods. “yeah.” your heart feels like it’s trying to climb out of your chest. you don’t pull away. you don’t lean in either. you’re suspended in this strange, terrifying middle space.

“want me to help you figure it out?" she asks. your breath leaves you in one long huff. “yes... please.”

when did your dreams become reality? (literally)

shoko doesn’t hesitate. she leans in and presses her soft lips to yours.

it’s so delicate you almost assume she's not even kissing you. it's so astronomically different to the rough, deep kisses you're used to from the men you see. she feels so much warmer. your eyes stay open for a moment, stunned. her face is so close. those cute freckles, her long lashes, the smell of smoke and mint.

then you close them, deciding to not look like a freak virgin and actually contribute.

your hand slips gently around her waist, she responds by pulling you closer, her other hand settling at your hip. the kiss deepens, and your head spins. this feels so different! you've thought it a thousand times in a second but it's just so otherworldly. it's not hurried and pushy, no. it's sweet and simple.

your thoughts race. you think about guys like gojo’s hands. the way he grabs. the way everything with men feels like a performance you know by heart, god, this is nothing like that.

this is quiet. this is terrifyingly peaceful.

shoko leans in more, her forehead brushing yours, lips still moving against yours in a lovely serenade. your grip tightens on her shirt, you want more and less at the same time.

you start to overthink.

your mind floods with questions, with fear, with guilt, with excitement.

with panic.

it’s too much.

this is too much.

or is it? you can't think straight! (haha, get it.)

you pull back suddenly, hands pushing against her shoulders.

“stop."

shoko stops instantly. no frustration and no confusion. just concern.

“hey,” she says. “what’s wrong?"

you shake your head, “i can’t. i mean, i want to. i just- i don’t know what this means.”

she nods slowly. “okay.”

you sit there, chest tight, heart racing, staring at her like she might disappear if you look away.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper. shoko doesn’t look hurt, just thoughtful. “it’s okay,” she says. “we can stop.” you nod, still spinning. “yeah.”

the space that was non existent just a few seconds ago now felt like hundred miles long.

.

before the moment can marinate any longer, geto, like some drunk super hero, comes bashing into the room with a pretty girl you swore gojo was dating just a few months ago when he ghosted you for a while. did he cheat on her? was that the story? wow, geto was a show off.

"get out."

wow, real classy.

you see the girl knock him in the side as to say 'cut it out,' and you and shoko share a fleeting glance before scurrying off.

when you hear the door shut down the hallway, you slow down. shokos infront and she turns to you, the lighting dark and you can barely see her eyes, but you can tell she's got that questioning look.

it was making your stomach flutter and churn with nervous nausea at the same time.

"look, y/n, i just want to let you know that this is normal for a girl like you, okay? you just-"

"i'm not gay." you spit. it's so much colder than you mean, but your brain is in fight mode. you're a little drunk, confused. not a good mix.

"hm?"

"i'm not gay. and you helped me figure that out." you tell her, even though you know that's a lie. you just don’t know how to put your feelings into perspective.

"i see."

"look i just-"

"no, i get it. don't worry, kay?" she cuts you off, with that calm smile. "we can talk more outside, yeah?"

"yes... please."

.

it’s awkward. not necessarily bad awkward. just new. the kind that makes you hyperaware of where your hands are. how loud your breathing sounds. the fact that you said something you can’t take back.

shoko breaks it first.

“hey,” she says gently. “i’m not offended.”

you peer at her with guilt stricken eyes, “you’re not?” you ask.

she shakes her head. “no. not at all.”

you let out a small laugh that doesn’t quite land. “i'm still so sorry... i kind of snapped.”

“you were overwhelmed,” she says. “that happens.”

you rub your thumb along the hem of your top. “the truth is, i don't know what i am. it just felt like everything was happening at once and i didn’t know what to do with it.”

she nods. “that’s normal. especially for girls who haven’t had that kind of intimacy with another girl before.”

you glance at her. “you really think so?"

“yeah,” she says easily. “i’ve seen it before. i’ve felt it before.” that makes you pause, perhaps with either sorrow or jealousy, your brain is too scattered to hone in on which one.

“i’m not trying to freak out,” you say. “my head just feels like a mess right now. i want to talk about it. i just don’t know how.”

shoko turns her body toward you a little.

“you can tell me anything,” she says.

there it is again. that sincerity that makes you feel like you've known her for years.

breathing in deeply, you muster up a response.

“okay,” you say. “so. at first. when i met you. i just really wanted to be your friend.”

she smiles faintly. “that tracks.”

you huff. “yeah. it was like this overwhelming urge to be near you. to talk to you. to understand you. i’ve never had that with someone i hadn't even spoken to yet.”

she listens and doesn’t interrupt.

“and i kept telling myself that was it,” you continue. “that i just admired you. thought you were cool. wanted you in my life. i didn’t question it.” you swallow. “but then,” you say quietly, “that feeling sort of changed. or maybe it didn’t change?. maybe it was always more than i thought and i just didn’t have the language for it.” you sigh “i don’t know when wanting to be your friend turned into wanting to understand you on a deeper level,” you say. “or if it was ever just friendship at all.”

you laugh under your breath. “i’ve never experienced this before. not like this. with guys it’s so easy. this feels like i'm tryna read a book in a language i don’t know.” she nods slowly. “that makes sense.”

“my 'friends' don’t help,” you add. “they made jokes, they'd call you horrible names. they turned me wanting to hang out with you into some ugly thing.”

her mouth tightens for a second. not angry, but protective. "i don't want to be their friend anymore. i don't care about close minded losers like that."

she smiles before replying. “you’re completely valid in thinking all of that,” shoko says. “none of it makes you stupid or naive or wrong.”

your shoulders ease up without you even realising they were tense.

“thank you,” you murmur.

“... i want you to know something too.”

you look at her. your stomach flips but you ignore it.

“i value you,” she says. “as a friend. genuinely. and i’m going to try my best to support you through this. thick and thin. no matter what you decide.” your throat tightens. “even if i decide i can’t handle this?"

“especially then,” she says. “but i also want to be honest with you.” you brace yourself.“i’ve had a abit of a thing for you.. ever since the night we locked eyes at that party,” she admits. “i tried to keep it light. give you space. follow your lead.”

you blink. “you have.”

she smiles softly. “yeah.”

“i’m not asking you for anything,” shoko continues. “if you want to stay friends, we stay friends. if you want space, i get it. if you want to stop talking to me, i’ll respect that too.” your chest hurts.

“and if,” she adds carefully, “you want to try and see where things go, i’d be more than happy to take it slow. guide you through it. at your pace.” you stare at her. this woman who somehow makes room for every version of you without asking you to be anything smaller.

“i don’t deserve how kind you’re being,” you say. she laughs quietly. “i’d do anything to make you feel as comfortable as you’ve made me feel.” the concept of you making her feel comfortable really improved your mood.

you feel like you have to show her how grateful you are for her maturity in all of this, and your appreciation for her ability to take this so well. you move closer and gently wrap your arms around her shoulders, giving her room to pull off if she wanted to.

she gets choked up for a second, but then relaxes into it with her arms coming around you with the same care. her chin rests lightly near your shoulder.

its soft and feminine in the sweetest way.

you pull back after a moment, smiling despite yourself. “thank you.”

she squeezes your hand once before letting go. you feel so much better after this.

“so,” you say, clearing your throat. “um. would you maybe want to come over to my place this weekend? maybe watch a movie.”

her answer is so quick. “yes,” shoko says, smiling wide and egar.

you grin back. “cool.”

really cool.

~

your apartment looks stupidly nice and you hate that you care this much about this dat- hang out...

the lights are warm but not too warm. the couch cushions are lined up again after you sat on them twice and fluffed them for no reason. the coffee table is clear except for the bowl of chips you definitely did not need to put in an actual bowl. you glance at the clock for the fifth time.

still ten minutes.

your phone is pressed between your shoulder and ear while you tug at a throw blanket until it looks straight, and maki’s voice crackles through the speaker.

“okay so what’s the plan?” she asks. “walk me through it.”

“there is no plan,” you say. “that’s the point. i’m just going to be normal.”

maki snorts. “you? normal?”

“rude,” you mutter. “i mean it. we’re watching a movie, maybe talking, maybe drinking a bit. nothing crazy, just chilling out like friends do.”

“friends who want to kiss,” maki adds.

you roll your eyes. “stop.”

“i’m serious,” she says. “are you gonna ask if she’s std free if you guys fuck?”

you choke. “i’m not doing that!"

“why notttt?” maki says. “it’s good to be safe.”

“we are not fucking,” you hiss, glancing toward the door like it might hear you. “this is just a hangout.”

“everyone says that before they fuck,” maki says. “i’m just saying.”

“please don’t say fuck again,” you say. “i’m already on edge. i don't know how to do it with a chick anyway...”

"i'm sure she could teach you."

"shut up!"

maki's laugh cackles in your ear for a while before she sighs and calms. “you like her.”

you sigh, you know she's right but,

“i’m just going to see how things go,” you say. “i’m not making it weird.”

“you already made it weird,” maki replies gently. “but that’s okay. that’s how figuring things out works.” you smile despite yourself. “you’re annoying.”

“i know,” she says. “text me if she kisses youuu!.”

“i’m hanging up.”

“ask if she's clean!,” maki sings.

you end the call mid word and toss your phone onto the couch, cheeks pink.

you take a breath. steady. you glance at the door again.

a knock sounds.

you jump.

“shit,” you mutter. “she’s early.”

you smooth your top over, pulling at the fabric so your cleavage looks good, then cross the room. your hand is already on the knob when you pull the door open with a pretty smile ready for her.

but it drops immediately.

because it’s not shoko.

gojo stands there instead, leaning in like it's his own place. his hair is messy in that on purposeful way. his eyes are drowsy. his cheeks are pink like he’s been drinking or thinking about you, or both.

definitely both.

“hey,” he says softly. “there you are.”

“gojo,” you say, flat. “what are you doing here?"

he steps inside without waiting, his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “I needed you,” he says, voice low. “i’ve been thinking about you all day.” he leans in and kisses you before you can stop him. it’s familiar, sure, it's nice and his mouth knows where to go, but you're all but over this.

you pull away.

“stop,” you say. “now is a really, really bad time.”

he stares at you, bewildered from the alcohol. “what?"

“shoko is coming over,” you say. “you can’t be here.” his brows knit together. “then cancel?”

“no,” you say. “gojo. you need to leave.” he laughs like you’re joking. “why would you cancel me for her?.."

“because i made plans,” you say. “with her.”

“yeah,” he says. “and i need you.” you shake your head. “that’s not how this works.”

he steps closer again, confused. “we’ve been doing this for three years. we're friends, good friends."

“I know,” you say. “that doesn’t mean you get to show up whenever you want.”

he looks genuinely lost now. “are you mad at me?."

“oh my god, no,” you say. “i just- i need you to go.”

“why are you picking some girl you just met over me?,” he asks. “over us.”

“there is no us,” you say, sharper than you mean. his mouth gets pouty. “wow.” you exhale. “gojo. please.” he scoffs. “she doesn’t need you like i do.”

“you don’t get to decide that,” you say.

he reaches for you again and you step back.

you're about to drop the bomb, about to tell him that 'i think i have a crush on her and this hangout is going to determine my mood for the rest of the week, so can you fuck off?'

but you're cut of by the door that opens behind him.

shoko, in all her beauty, stands there with a puzzled look on her face.

“oh,” she says. “sorry. i uhm.. i didn’t realise you had another guest.” your heart drops.

“no,” you say quickly. “it’s not like that. he was just leaving.”

in shokos head, she's distraught. why would you have some guy you were sleeping with over at your place when you and her were supposed to be hanging out? especially after she was so excited for it... she felt a little sad.

she tries to push it down and announces, "that’s fine. i can come back another time.”

“no,” you say. “shoko please stay.” but gojo talks over you. “thanks sho, catch up later yeah?.”

shoko hesitates, then gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her deep brown eyes. “text me.”

then she leaves.

the door closes, and the silence is loud. you turn on gojo slowly, heat and anger flooding your face.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you snap.

he frowns. “what did i do?"

“you just ruined everything!" you worry. “get out.”

“you’re overreacting,” he says. “she’s just some girl.”

“she’s not just some girl! she's all i can think about lately and i was so excited to see her today!” you say. “and you don’t get to decide who matters to me, i think i really like her!" the second the words leave your mouth, the room goes still.

gojo just stares at you, blinking like his brain short circuits halfway through processing it.

“you like,” he repeats, slower. “… her.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. “i don’t know if it’s love-like. but it feels big. bigger than anything i’ve felt before. and tonight was supposed to be a break from the fuck ups in our track history. we were supposed to just watch a movie and talk and not freak out and now it’s all fucked because you walked in like this was still some open door situation.”

gojo stays quiet because yikes, he messed up.

you keep going because stopping feels so impossible right now.

“everything with you has always been easy,” you say. “easy and fun and predictable. and with her.. i don’t know anything, and that’s scary and exciting and i hate that i care this much but i do.” gojo rubs the back of his neck. “i didn’t know.”

“I know,” you sigh, then soften immediately. “i know you didn’t. but you don’t get to act like she’s nothing just because she’s new.”

he winces. “yeah. that was shitty.”

you drag a hand down your face. “i just wanted tonight to go right."

he rubs his neck bashfully and steps towards you slowly, he pulls you into a hug before you can talk yourself out of it.

“I’m sorry,” he says into your hair. “i really am. i don’t know much about… any of this. but i didn’t mean to mess things up for you.”

your throat tightens. “i know.. i know.”

"i'm sorry,” he says quietly. “i won’t again.”

you look up at him and he looks genuinely gutted on your behalf.

“i’ll stop,” he says. “no more showing up. no more trying to get with you, hell, i'll even tell the other guys to lay off if you want. if you think you found something good, i’m not gonna touch it.” your whole face is wiped of the stern expression you wore, replaced with one of appreciation. “thank you.”

he nods, then forces a small smile. “you should go after her.”

you nod, then grab your jacket, shove past him, and bolt out the door.

then, like some really bad angsty romace movie, it starts pouring down with soaking rain.

your hair sticks to your face. your shoes soak through, and your heart feels like it’s trying to outrun you. you scan the street, breath coming fast, panic creeping in.

then you see her down the block with her hood up, standing near the bus stop about to hop on the cory express. she’s halfway up the step when you shout her name.

“shoko!”

she turns just as you reach her, your hand catching her arm before she can get on.

“wait,” you gasp. “please.”

she lets you pull her back down onto the sidewalk. the rain darkens her shirt, and her expression's conflicted, her hurt shining through no matter how hard she tries to hide it.

“you didn’t have to do this,” she says.

“no... i did,” you huff. “i really did.” she looks away. “but it’s fine. i get it.”

“no,” you say, shaking your head. “you don’t. and i don’t want you filling in blanks that aren’t real.”

she watches you carefully now. “okay?.."

“gojo didn’t know,” you say. “about us. about tonight meaning something to me. he thought he could just show up like always, and that’s on me for not shutting it down sooner.”

she sighs. “you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“i owe you honesty,” you say. “especially after the other night.”

her shoulders drop a little. “... i was excited to see you.” she admits, hugging her body.

oh wow.. your heart drops. “me too.”

rain dripples down your nose and forehead, you're awe struck at the way droplets fall into her lashes and catch on the ends.

“I didn’t want you thinking i chose him,” you say. “because i didn’t. i would have chosen you. every time.” her eyes soften. “i believe you.” you laugh weakly. “thank god.” she steps closer and wraps her arms around you. you hug her back without thinking, rain soaking both of you.

“shit, it’s freezing,” she laughs with melancholy. you huff a laugh. “come back to my place. please.” she nods. “duh. i just missed my bus cuz of you.”

you laugh, embarrassed, and pull her up the pathway, and by the time you get back, you’re both dripping wet. gojo’s mercedes is gone, and relief floods over you. thank fuck.

you step inside and the chill from the air con made both of you shiver. you smile guide her gently toward the bathroom. “you should have a shower. now. before you freeze and die.” she laughs at you as you wish off to grab her a towel and some clothes.

as you shut the door you try your best to not think about her being naked in your bathroom, occupying yourself with whatever you can. you change into comfy, drier clothes, dry your hair, hands still a little shaky.

just as you finish up she comes out dressed in your clothes, with her hair damn and her cheeks flushed pink.

you both pause, then laugh at the same time.

“you look good,” you say, smiling.

“you too,” she replies.

you point to the couch. “c'mon, pick a movie. i’ll order food.”

she settles in, scrolling, glancing at you from under her lashes. you catch her looking at your short pyjama shorts but you pretend not to notice how her cheeks flush a darker colour, and she pretends you didn’t catch her.

“i can’t choose,” she says eventually.

“that’s fine,” you say, sitting down. “we can just talk.” she smiles and scoots closer, turning to face you fully, you set your phone down.

“hi,” she says.

“hi,” you echo, laughing softly.

you’re both so goo goo eyed it’s embarrassing.

rain taps faintly against the window, but you barely register it. all you can really focus on is how close she is, how her knee keeps brushing your thigh every time she moves around, like she’s checking if you’ll pull away.. you, ofcourse, don’t.

shoko glances down, then back up at you. “i was a little sad earlier,” she admits.

your stomach tightens. “about gojo?”

she nods. “yeah. not because of him, really. just because i didn’t know where i stood.”

you swallow. “i hated that you saw that.”

“i know,” she says. “but i’m glad you ran after me.”

“i needed you to know i wasn’t choosing him.” she takes a once over of your face. “and?”

“and i’m not involved with anyone anymore,” you say. “not him. not anyone. except…” you trail off, then look at her. “except you. if you want.” her lips curve into a slow smile. “i do.”

it’s such a simple answer it almost knocks you flat. “i’m only interested in you too,” she adds, like she’s letting you in on a secret.

something loosens in your chest. you laugh, a quiet little sound. “that makes me feel insane amounts of better.”

“good,” she says. “that was the goal.”

you both smile, and then there’s this weird feeling of change, the way you're looking at her and visa versa is like neither of you is pretending this is just friendly anymore.

your eyes fall, against your will, down to the shirt you gave her, it's low cut and shows off her cleavage on the most beautiful way. you definitely chose that shirt on purpose, consciously or subconsciously was the real question.

your eyes flick down one more and you immediately regret it, already bracing for embarrassment because she notices.

and instead of calling you out, she adjusts the shirt, pulling it down, leaning back just enough to make it worse.

there goes the innocent act you were tryna uphold. she catches your reaction and smiles, amused. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly. “totally. fine.”

she hums. “you’re staring.”

you clear your throat because you were really hoping she wouldn't say anything, then, bashfully you counter with, “you are too.”

she doesn’t deny it. her eyes drop down to your shorts, the way your legs fold under you. “they’re very short.”

“i know,” you say, then wince. “i mean- i didn’t think about it like that, that wasn't like the plan or anything i-”

“mm,” she says. “sure.” she shifts closer. now your knees are touching fully, not just brushing. you take a breath. “can i ask you something?” she nods. “anything.”

oh god what were you doing?

your courage spikes and you spew what had been on your mind for the past twenty minutes. “do you wanna... try that kiss again?” wow, so much for being normal tonight.

her smile turns softer, warmer. “i thought you’d never ask.” she leans in this time without hesitating. your lips meet hers gently, and you’re more present now, less caught in your head. you kiss her slowly, deliberately, like you’re learning her technique. she responds quickly with her hand sliding to your waist, only, as she pulls herself closer to you you can't help the whine that falls from your lips as her tits press firmly against yours, moulding together so she can slip her tongue inside.

they feel so plush, so warm against your chest. like some psychic, she grabs one of your hands and places it against her right boob, letting you explore.

you're breathing heavy at the overwhelming appeal dripping from this exchange, squeezing gently making her gasp into your mouth.

she pulls back for just a second, looking you with lust in her caramel eyes. “can i go a little further?” you nod so fast it’s pathetic. “please.” she smiles and kisses you again, this time with more passion. she's not shy with where she's grabbing, her hands finding your butt and squeezing with a satisfied hum.

hm, so she was an ass girl. good to know.

she then lifts herself up and slips easily into your lap, sitting down on your bare thighs.

"is this okay, baby?" wow you almost moan at the name. from a man's mouth that pet name felt cringe, from hers? you think you cold listen to her say it a million times over.

"this is more than okay." you smile, and she gives you an open mouth kiss in appreciation. she takes your hand and presses it gently against her chest again, your breath stutters and you squeeze lightly. she makes this quiet whine that goes straight to your clit.

you moan softly into the kiss, startled by yourself. her hand mirrors yours, resting over your chest, squeezing just enough to make you melt into her. she’s in control, but she’s watching you closely, checking in without words. it makes you feel safe and secure in a way no man has ever done.

when the kiss finally breaks, you’re both lost for breath and touching foreheads, “wow.”

she smiles against your skin. “yeah.”

just as you're about to go at it after catching your breath, the door bell rings.

"fuck, that's the food..." you mumble. and she laughs as you push off the couch and towards the door. while you're gone, she's trying desperately to fix herself up and hide the mess between her legs, sitting on her knees so you couldn't see the dampness she's sure is there.

she's praying to god she didn't leave anything on your clothes as well..

.

the rest of the night eases into something soft without trying to be. food shows up, it's warm and fragrant, and you eat cross legged on the couch with mean girls playing in the background.

shoko cheekily smiles while stealing your fries and you laugh and take sips of her drink in return. the normalcy of it all feels unreal after how intense everything was an hour ago. you both have a few drinks you'd kept in your fridge, nothing hangover worthy but just enough to slow your brain down.

by now she seems more comfortable as she leans her head against your shoulder and leans into you when she laughs, you grin like a school girl and go with the flow.

halfway through the movie you realise you’re not paying any attention. you’re more focused on the way her fingers are scratching lightly up and down on your thigh, every now and then she glances up at you to gauge your reaction.

you smile and kiss your teeth in reply.

when the credits finally roll, it’s really late. the rain has softened to a quiet patter outside, the city sounding distant and tired.

you clear your throat. “hey.” she hums, looking at you. “yeah?”

“do you wanna… stay the night?” it comes out cautious, like you’re bracing for rejection even though everything in her body language says otherwise. she smiles quickly. “i was hoping you’d ask.”

relief hits you so hard you almost laugh. “okay sweet!” you hop up too fast, nerves kicking back in. “you can take my bed. i’ll grab blankets for the couch.”

she blinks at you. “why?”

“because i invited you over,” you say. “and because i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” she watches you for a second, then shakes her head. “that won’t be necessary.” you pause. “hmm?”

“just sleep in the bed with me,” she says simply. “if that’s okay.”

your face heats instantly. “oh. i mean. yeah. i just thought-” she steps closer and takes your hand before you can wack out. “we don’t have to do anything. i promise.”

you nod, embarrassed. “i wasn’t assuming.”

she smiles, gentle. “i know. i just want you to feel safe.” that word again. safe, she felt like it's definition at this point.

you take her to your room, showing her around the place abit before sitting on the edge, you watch as she settles beneath your covers and you take it as your sign to copy. your body's stiff and awkward until you lock eyes with her, she for your hand.

“you don’t have to be scared,” she laughs gently. you let your fingers lace with hers. “i’m not.” it’s not entirely true, and you think she could tell by the way she squeezes your hand.

“i don’t want sex tonight,” she adds softly. “i just want to be here with you.”

you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “thank you.”

she shifts closer, just enough that your arms brush. it feels so intimate without being too overwhelming. you fall asleep like that, hand in hand, breathing in sync.

~

two weeks of that.

two weeks of hanging around eachothers places, making out on occasion, and watching shitty movies while cuddled up on the couch. la pretty sweet deal, if you did say so yourself.

you didn't have to be some performative pos infront of shoko because she was someone you felt comfortable with, you got to spend optimal time with one of the coolest people you knew, and said person had the same feelings for you as you did for her.

perfect.

well, almost.

the only thing wrong with this infatuating arrangement of swapping spit and touching up on each other, was the fact you hadn't put a label on any of this yet. usually, it would go something like this: you'd meet a guy, maybe screw around a bit, have him begging for your time for a date, go on said date, then you'd be asked out. (not that you'd ever said yes.)

obviously, with two chicks it was a different story. you knew you liked her. god, you liked shoko more than you'd ever liked anyone. with each passing day of just living in her presence, you've learnt that maybe you've been missing out your whole life on this whole gay thing. only thing is, how do you take this relationship to the next level?

do you have sex? is that the next thing? she'd been hinting at it lately but you weren't sure. do you ask her out first? maybe both? sex then a date? date then sex? this was all so confusing. your panicked thoughts came to fruition one night at a white lies party gojo's frat was hosting.

a theme that's been over-done to the max but was always a good laugh.

you'd texted shoko earlier that day to ask what she was up to and if she was coming, and she of course had already been invited by shiu. (who you've since found out is her plug, hence why she's always at the functions, she's lining his pockets as well as being his friend.)

smiling to yourself at the thought of retreating upstairs away from everyone else with shoko, you step into the house and smell that disgusting reek of spoiled alcohol.

a few weeks ago you'd be fluttering around greeting people, but as of late all you could muster is a quick wave as your beelined it to your pretty friend.

so, that's what you were doing. in your white shirt that spelt out "i'm coming" in messy handwriting, you're throwing small greetings to the people you recognise while making your way over the the couch shoko's always at.

you’re halfway across the living room when sukuna, this dumb meat head, spots you.

his eyes drag over you, then snag on your shirt. “no way,” he says, grinning. “is that true for me?” you stop because he steps directly into your path. for gods sake, you wished men you'd fucked months ago would stop thinking they were the centre of your universe. you force a very obviously fake smile and grit out, “it’s just a theme, sukuna.” he laughs, loud and annoyingly self assured. “so you’re saying there’s a chance?"

your gaze flicks past him, already searching for the couch. for her. you spot dark hair, her posture, long slender legs tucked up the way she always sits. relief and the sight of her unfathomable beauty almost makes your knees give out. you try to step around him but he moves again, blocking you off from your precious view. “come on. you telling me i can’t make that shirt honest tonight?”

oh you were so sick of this.

you don't know if it's the weeks of finally feeling content with your life without men like him running things or what, but you bark out a harsh, “move,” he raises a brow. “what?”

“i said move.” there’s no flirt in your voice like you'd usually put on, no. you're kind of over putting on such a facade for people you didn't really care about. the only person you wanted to impress with your charm and social skills right now was sitting on a couch you wished you were sitting at as well.

his grin falls. “damn, relax. i’m just talking.”

“god,” you say flatly. “can you just fuck off.”

a few heads turn. that alone is enough to shock him. you step forward and shove past his shoulder. he stares at your gobsmacked at your attitude. well, you're glad that was over. you were expecting some more yelling from him, so that was a plus.

you finish your journey and there she sits, wearing a white shirt with neat lettering that reads i’m not addicted to nic. you laugh under your breath as you drop down beside her. “liar,” you say.

she glances over, eyes lighting up. “takes one to know one.” you almost kiss her cheek infront of all of these people without thinking. the urge hits so fast it makes your head spin but you stop yourself at the last second, settling for leaning in close.

“hi,” you say instead.

“hi,” she replies softer.

wow, she looks good, it’s distracting.

her boobs looked really good in that shirt, you could faintly see the outline of her bra. you have to curl your fingers into your own thigh to keep from doing something reckless. she notices. her eyes dip then come back to your face, amused. “you okay?”

you swallow. “define okay.” her lips twitch into a smile. “you look… restless.” that’s one way to put it. she leans in close to whisper in your ear “we could go upstairs.” your breath leaves you in a slow exhale. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.” you get the okay from geto beforehand, and he waves you two off. you'd bother assumed he was still under the impression you were strictly using his room for smoking, he said the smell went with his aura and that shoko could hot box it as much as she wanted. such a poser.

but, in reality, he had an ongoing bet with yuki about how long it would take for the two of you to go public. he knew.

the wooden door closes behind you, and it feels like a switch flips. like the noise and the eyes and the expectations all fall away.

shoko turns to you.

“can i kiss you?” she asks. you nod eagerly. “yes.” she doesn’t rush it. she steps into your space, gives you time to pull back if you want to, and you don’t.

your mouths meet, soft at first, then deeper as you relax into it. it’s so familiar now, but the way she's pushing up against you suggests she's feeling a little frisky.

you break the kiss just long enough to laugh. “why are you being so confident tonight?”

she smiles, forehead resting against yours. “i’ve just been thinking about you all day. can't get you out of my head.”

her voice.. holy shit, her voice. you kiss her again, your hands falling around her waist as hers grip your ass.

she really was being bold. and you loved it.

she now presses you back until your thighs hit the edge of suguru's bed. you sit without breaking the kiss, and she follows, sitting down in your lap.

"for the record, i never stop thinking about you, sho." you huff when the kiss breaks.

she smiles, small and mischievous. “i noticed.” her hands slide under your shirt, palms warm against your skin. your shoulders tense up but then relax when you realise you’re not nervous, you’re just keyed in.

she kisses down your neck, like she'd done a few times before, but now she was doing iit not only with passion, but with lust. she pulls at your shirt collar as she kisses down your collar. “shoko,” you whine, gosh, you never whined like that with men.

she hums against your skin, sultry and hungry. “mm?”

“don’t stop.” that’s all it takes. she nudges you further back onto the bed, guiding you until you’re lying down. she takes her time pushing your shirt up slowly, fingers dragging lightly over your stomach, watching your face the whole time. checking. always checking.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” she says.

you shake your head. “i will.”

“perfect.” she leans down again, looking you dead in your eyes as she drags her tounge from your belly button up to your bra, unhooking it at the back then pulling it off with her teeth.

wow, magic mike much? she's still giving you the fuck me eyes as she takes one of your hard nipples into her mouth, sucking gently pulling more pretty sounds from your throat.

you'd always thought this moment would feel wrong when you finally engaged. that maybe you'd freak out and stop her, but with the way she's murmuring praise and compliments into your skin while she sucks at your body paints a completely different picture.

"you're so beautiful, baby. prettiest tits i've ever seen." she smiles.

before you can thank her with an embarrassed flush, she bites down softly on your nipple and you moan ever so prettily, hooking your fingers into getos sheets.

was it bad you were doing this in your friends bed? probably.

didn't stop either if you though. as she continues kissing down your body, her hands slip into your shorts, thumbs hooking on the waistband. you lift your hips in instinct, helping her. the look she gives you at that is sexy and so approving.

“you're so eager,” she murmurs.

“shut up,” you say, embarrassed, but grinning. she slides your shorts down your legs, followed by your underwear, her movements are so fluid and feminine.

when she looks at you fully like this, open and bare under her gaze, your face heats. you almost cover yourself.

she catches your wrist gently before you can. “hey.” you meet her eyes. “you’re ethereal,” she says, like some simple fact.

and yeah, you knew you were pretty, a multitude of guys would line up to spout that in your ear. but having a beautiful girl like shoko say that meant so much more than all the men in the world combined.

she leans down, kisses your inner thigh, then the other. her mouth is warm, never quite where you want it yet. you squirm, letting out a soft sound you don’t recognise as yours. she smiles against your skin. “relax. i’ve got you.”

and she does.

her fingers part you slowly, like she’s learning how you'll react. she doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. just explores, touches, listens to the way your body responds. when she finally slips a finger inside you, it’s so gentle. you gasp, hands flying to her hair, gripping without meaning to.

she doesn’t tell you to let go.

she adds another finger once you relax around her, curling them just enough to make your thoughts scatter. your hips move on their own, chasing the high you so desperately wanted.

“shoko,” you breathe, a little wrecked already. she looks up at you, eyes focused. “yeah?”

“that feels… really good.” she chuckles softly. “i know.” she leans down again, mouth replacing her fingers for a moment, tongue slow and thorough. you go still, then melt, one hand covering your mouth to keep quiet. she pulls back just long enough to say, “you don’t have to be.

that’s permission you didn’t know you needed. her flat tongue spreads against your clit and you feel like fainting. she watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, and slowly licks through your folds with a hum of pleasure that vibrates through you. you've been eaten out before, but not like this.

not by another woman who knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.

she's lapping you up like a dog, her tongue flicking back and forth over your bud with her own pretty moans. the noises that rip from your throat are otherworldly, sounds you've never made.

"fuck, you taste so sweet, love." she smiles, her lips glistening with your own liquid.

you bite your lip at the sight and grind into the air, asking for more. "aww, so cute". and she dives back in. she alternates between her mouth and her fingers, never letting the building coil in your stomach drop, tightening it carefully. every time you get close, she eases off just enough to keep you right there.

“you’re doing so good,” she hums. "so good for me, baby." it’s almost too much. your body tightens, muscles drawing in, breath uneven. “i’m close,” you whine in between gasps.

she smiles and goes all in, her fingers plunge deep inside you as her mouth works and sucks at your clit, drawing more quips from your throat. shoko was intoxicated with you. your taste had her dripping and the way you were grinding into her mouth so desperately was driving her mad.

she could see why you had so much sex appeal, if this was a performance you were a damn good actor. she speeds up, solely focused on you finishing, hooking her fingers inside of you to reach that sponge spot she knew was making you dizzy. "c'mon, my sweet girl, give it to me."

that gets you, because in a mix of whining and gripping the fabric of the sheets, you come undone all over her fingers.

"atta girl."

after, she kisses your stomach, then curls up beside you, pulling you into her chest. your head fits there like it belongs.

you’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling, trying to come back into yourself.

“hey,” she murmurs. you hum in response, too relaxed to form words yet. “you okay?” she asks. you nod. “yeah. more than okay.”

“good,” she says, relief threading through her voice. “stay with me for a sec.”

she pushes off the bed to rummage through geto’s drawer, mumbling something under her breath about him being gross but prepared. when she comes back, she’s holding a packet of wipes she absolutely did not bring herself.

“god,” you laugh. “of course he has those.”

“right?” she says. she sits beside you again and gently helps clean you up, her delicate movements are careful and so, so respectful. she keeps checking your face, your reactions, making sure you’re still comfortable.

“tell me if anything feels weird,” she says quietly. “It doesn’t,” you reply. “it feels… nice.”

she sighs with a smirk that screams 'i'm infatuated with you,' then tosses the wipes aside and pulls you into her arms.

her fingers slide into your hair, combing through it slowly, you didn’t understand just how badly you needed this care until she so graciously gave it to you.

“there you go,” she murmurs. “just breathe.”

she gives your forehead a sweet kiss, then your nose, her hands are still moving against your scalp and you melt into her soft touch. “you did so good,” she says.

your face goes red. “i didn’t really do anything.”

“hmm, you trusted me,” she replies. “that counts.” you move up closer, curling into her.

“i kinda wish,” she adds after a moment, voice thoughtful, “that our first time doing… that… wasn’t in a frat house.”

you laugh softly. “yeah?"

“yeah,” she says. “like. your place. or mine. somewhere quieter. with real blankets. and a locked door.” you tilt your head back to look at her. “are you saying geto’s room isn’t romantic?”

she snorts. “i’m saying his vibes are deeply cursed.”

you laugh and squeeze her arm, "i guess it's kinda romantic since this is where we met,"

she nods and looks down at you with such love in her irises.

“i guess you're right. next time,” she says lightly.

next time. heck yeah, there was a next time.

“hey,” you say. “that was really amazing.” her expression softens. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you nod. “and for the record? you proved my shirt right.” she breaks, laughing, shoulders shaking as she hides her face in your neck. “oh my god.”

“i’m just saying,” you add. “very on theme.”

she lifts her head with her eyes bright. “good to know my reputation remains intact.” you grin, then grow quieter. “thank you. for taking care of me.”

she doesn’t joke this time. she cups your face gently, “always.” the way she looks at you makes your heart feel all gooey and soft, sure, you'd just had your first.. you don’t even know what to call it, with a girl, in a frat house, but it was the most intimacy you'd ever experienced.

she kisses you softly once more then tucks you back against her plush chest. her hand returns to your hair, slow and so soothingly repetitive, like she’s memorising the feel of you. you could fall asleep like this, you think. easily.

alas, “we should probably go back down eventually,” you mumble.

“eventually,” she agrees. “not yet.”

you smile, eyes closing. “okay.”

~

the plan was to go downstairs and go home, but apparently the universe had other plans for you and shoko. you're walking back down the stairs with shoko trailing behind you, when you look over the lounge room and dining area to see gojo.

he’s across the room, leaning against a pillar, his blue eyes already on you. the moment your eyes meet, his face falls. he looks so, so guilty. before you can tilt your head and scrunch your face up at him, he mouths a drunken, 'i'm sorry.' the fuck? sorry for what?

you barely have time to process it before you hear your name.

“oh my god, there she is.”

oh.

you turn, and there they are. the self centred butches you've grown to hate, but ones you’ve also known forever, or at least long enough to know exactly how shallow their look is right now. one of them laughs. “so that’s where you’ve been hiding.”

another tilts her head. “gojo spilled his guts, by the way. about you and this... girl.”

your stomach drops, but your spine stays straight.

“told you what?” you ask. they exchange looks, delighted. “that you’ve been blowing off parties because you’re obsessed with her,” she says, nodding at shoko. “kinda explains a lot.” behind you, you can feel shoko step back slightly, you can see in your peripheral how her shoulders curl into her body as she shys away from these girls nasty glares.

if you weren't pissed the fuck off before, you sure were now. shoko was confident in bed, but not when it came to judgey whores like this. “wow,” you say flatly. “you guys really rushed to conclusions fast.”

“don’t act like it’s not obvious,” one of them says. “you disappear for weeks and suddenly you’re glued to… this fag.”

the word hangs there, ugly even without being said properly. you watch shoko’s jaw tighten. you feel her hand twitch, like she’s deciding whether to leave or stay or disappear entirely.

and that’s it. you're not proud if the way you instantly get up in these girls faces like you were about to knock them in their teeth. “say that again.” you spit. they blink, completely thrown off.

you push the girl who said it back, and she stumbles like a pathetic feather. "don’t call her that." you bark. "insecure hoe's like you really piss me off." by now she's looking at you, then around the room like someone would give her a helping hand. "your life of sucking dick and getting trains ran through you really dumbs down your personality? huh? have to make others feel bad because you're just some pocket pussy?"

the onlookers are pissing themselves laughing and a handful of them are egging you on with the odd cheer. she literally starts crying. you half scoff and half laugh at how pathetic she was being.

maybe that wasn't exactly crystal for your shiny record, but the only thing you can think to care about right now was shoko, and they were making her feel shitty.

one of them scoffs. “you're fucking insane! we're just concerned.”

“no,” you say. “you’re bored.” you step back, placing yourself slightly in front of shoko without even thinking about it. not hiding her. just making it clear where you stand.

geto and yuki, who happened to be nearby, were taking this all in and nodding to themselves, clinking glasses. those two were never a good mix when it came to conspiracy, because their predictions always came to fruition.

“you’re all so wrapped up in your own little worlds that the second someone stops orbiting you, you get nasty,” you say. “and honestly? it’s embarrassing.” more people start looking. “you think you’re better than us now?” one of them snaps.

you shrug. “no. i just think i’m done pretending i like you.” that one stings. you see it hit.

“so what, you’re dating her now?” another says, sneering. “is that it?” you glance at shoko. she’s watching you closely, eyes searching your face, like she’s bracing for impact. you grab her hand.

“yeah,” you say. “maybe i am.”

their faces twist with both disgust and dissatisfaction, the girl you'd clocked was long gone, probably off crying somewhere.

you reach back and take shoko’s hand.

you don’t look away from them as you do it. “if you’ve got a problem with who i like,” you say, “that’s yours to deal with. not mine.”

they look so pathetically small now. mean in a way that isn’t powerful anymore. you turn away from them without another word and start toward the door, tugging shoko gently along with you. people part as you pass, some smiling ear to ear, some indifferent, most already losing interest.

college attention spans are short like that.

you guide her into the night and down the street a few paves. then shoko pulls you into a hug. it’s sudden and oh so tight. her arms wrap around you and her face presses into your shoulder like she needs to make sure you’re still there.

“thank you,” she says quietly. you hold her just as tight. “for what?”

“for that,” she says. “for not letting them talk like that. for… choosing me, i guess.”

you smile into her hair, and squeeze her arm twice. "for you i'd do that a million times over, sho." she pulls back just enough to look at you. her eyes are bright, a little wet, a lot warm.

“you know that was big, right?” she says gently. “for you.”

you nod. “yeah.”

“are you okay?” she asks. you think about it. about the way your chest feels lighter than it has in years. about how scared you were ten minutes ago and how steady you feel now. “yeah,” you say. “more than okay.”

she smiles, then her eyes change from bittersweet to playful.

“so,” she says, tilting her head. “we’re dating now, huh? that’s news to me.”

your face heats up instantly. “what? no, i just- i was proving a point-."

“mm,” she says. “sure.”

“oh gosh,” you blush. “i didn’t mean to, like, announce anything.” she steps closer, getting up in your space. “you don’t want to date me?”

you open your mouth and stumble. “that’s not- i didn’t say-”

she kisses you. her lips mould perfectly with yours. when she pulls back, she smiles. “i’d love to date you.” you stare at her for a good second, then you giggle. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she says. you lean in and kiss her again, grinning into it.

college is messy. people talk. parties get crashed. friendships crack and reform and fall apart.

but right now, with shoko's hand in yours and the night fanning open in front of you, none of that feels so scary anymore.

it feels like a beautiful beginning for you, and this beautiful, allusive girl you'd become infatuated with.

okay, yeah. maybe you were a little gay.

"i haven't seen you smoking lately, what's up with that?"

"i only smoke when i'm stressed. i use your tits as stress toys now, so there's no need."

"love it."

© 2025 sixxels. All work belongs to @sixxels Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

m.list || based on a real story chat 😝 (except now we don’t talk so no pt.2)

[lovely-maki]

Not so Merry Christmas!

a/n: guys okay I think i like this one better than the first one but idk… enjoy some more Nanami fluff!

wc: 1490

It’s the holidays once again. But this time, something’s different… veeeery different.

You have a man to bring home! In years past, you’ve always been asked when you were going to get a boyfriend, and now you finally have one! The man, the myth, and the sexy; Kento Nanami. A wave of nerves and excitement washes over you as your childhood home comes into view, and you start to remember all of the good memories you made here. And now you’re going to make more with another special person in your life.

“Okay baby, remember; If my mom or gigi offer you food, do not say no. They’ll kill both me and you. If a man with an obnoxiously big beard starts talking about politics, just smile and nod, it’s not worth arguing with him. And no swearing whatsoever in from of my aunt or mom.”

You say to your boyfriend as you do quick touch-ups to your makeup in the car mirror.

He chuckles softly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh, “Relax, darling. We’ll be fine. I’ll follow all of your little rules.”

You smile softly at him, gently squeezing his hand before moving to get out of the car, only to be stopped by his hand.

“I got it.” He says, getting out of the drivers side (cause you’re a passenger princess duh) and walking around the car to open your door, extending his hand out for you to grab.

“How sweet.” You tease, taking his hand and stepping out of the car, closing the door behind you as you both walk up the driveway to the front door.

With a soft sigh and squeeze of his hand, you look over at him to find him already looking at you. “You ready?” You ask, squeezing his hand again.

“Mhm. I’m glad to finally be meeting your family.” He replies, squeezing your hand right back.

You smile softly and move to knock on the door, being greeted a few seconds later by the cheery smile on your mother’s face.

“Sweetheart! You came! I was getting a little worried you weren’t going to show up this year.” She says giving you a bone crushing hug.

“I know, sorry for not getting back to you, ma.” You reply, kissing her head gently.

“It’s alright, dear. And oh- who is this? Is this the infamous Nanami i’ve been hearing about.” Your mom asks, looking up at the man holding your hand. And before you can reply, he beats you to it.

“Kento is fine ma’am. And yes, that would be me. It’s nice to finally see the beauty that created my darling here.” He says to her, reaching out a hand for her to shake. She, being the lady she is, ignores his hand and gives him a hug and you can feel him stiffen up beside you.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear. I’m so glad someone finally tied this one down, she’s been coming to these things alone for ages. The last time she brought a guy was-“ You quickly cut her off with a forced chuckle.

“Oookay mom, i think that’s enough. I’m sure Ken is hungry, we’ve barely eaten today.” You say to change the subject. Your mom’s face lights up as she drags you guys inside immediately.

“Are you trying to starve the man, Sweetheart? You know the way to a man’s heart is-“

“Through his stomach, I remember.” You mutter, following her through the house with Nanami in tow. You look back at him and give him an apologetic look as your mom hands you both plates.

“Help yourselves! I made plenty this year just in case some people wanted extra.” Your mom says, giving you a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen to talk with more of your relatives. You let out a sigh of relief and look at Nanami.

“I’m sorry, she’s… a lot sometimes.” You apologize to your boyfriend, gently squeezing his hand again, as if that’s your way of grounding both yourself and him.

“It’s fine, sweet thing. Nothing I wasn’t expecting.” He replies, kissing your forehead before walking over to some of the food. “How much do I take?”

“As much as you want, baby. She appreciates when guests like her food.” You reply, taking a bit of salad and brisket for your own plate, not wanting to take too much and get stares from your aunts. Again.

You and Nanami both get your plates and find spots to sit at the table, where some of your family is already eating. You get through all of the pleasantries, introducing Nanami to your aunts, uncles and cousins before sitting down to enjoy your food. At first, they ask all of the normal questions to him, what does he do for work, where is he from, all the basic stuff. Until your aunt Josephine decides to pipe up with a question that stunned not only you, but everyone else.

“Sooo… when are you two planning on having kids?” She asks, like it’s the most normal question. You start to cough at the question, Nanami gently patting your back to help you.

“Auntie… isn’t it a little soon to be thinking about kids? It’s not even been a year of us being together.” You ask her, drinking some water to recollect yourself.

Your aunt hums, taking another bite of her food before replying, “Well? It’s an important ask, considering how you seem to almost never have a man. I was getting worried you’d never end up carrying on the family name.” She teases, although the teasing seems like just a little more than that.

You go quiet, silently eating your food to avoid her response. Nanami notices this and gently squeezes your thigh under the table, trying to comfort you without being too obvious about it. He looks up from you to answer your aunt.

“We most likely won’t be having any in the near future, I want to make her my wife first.” He replies coolly, looking back down at you to make sure you’re alright. Your aunt raises an eyebrow at that and decides that instead of leaving it, she’ll press on.

“You want to marry her? She can be quite difficult sometimes. That’s why she can’t ever seem to keep a man.” She replies, getting chuckles from everyone else at the table but you or Nanami. You look up from your food to glare at her.

“I’m not difficult, thank you. The last time I had a boyfriend, he cheated on me, so obviously i’ve been cognizant about who I decide to date from then on.” You mutter back in response, getting up from the table to throw your plate away, muttering in Nanami’s ear that you both might be leaving early, in which he nods in response before turning back to your aunt.

“I don’t think she’s difficult at all, actually. I love her a lot, and I see a great future with her, difficult or not.” He says, stunning everyone, including you because you didn’t expect him to stick up for you like that, and apparently neither did they. Your aunt goes quiet, her food looking much more intriguing than this conversation.

“Ken, i’m ready if you are.” You mutter in his ear, sitting back down next to him.

“Of course, darling. Let’s go.” He replies, standing up and helping you up before pushing in both chairs. You both bid your goodbyes to everyone and quickly walk out the front door. Once you both get in the car, you let out a sigh you didn’t know you’ve been holding.

“God, I hate coming to these things.” You mutter, running a hand over your face as Nanami starts the car.

“I didn’t expect them to be so… condescending towards you.” He replies, pulling out of the driveway and started back to your shared home. You hum in response, staring out the window as everything passes. The car ride home is silent, with the occasional squeezing of your thigh where Nanami’s hand has found purchase.

Once you get home, he opens the door for you again, helping you out of the car and holding your hand all the way to the front door. Once inside, you both immediately change into comfy clothes and get ready for bed, settling in right next to each other.

Curled up in his chest, you gently kiss Nanami’s jaw and neck. “Thank you for defending me earlier, Ken. It means a lot.” You mutter, resting your head on his chest to feel the soft beating of his heart.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d never let someone humiliate you like that.” He replies, kissing the top of your head as his hand gently rubs your back. After a while of silence and your breathing has stilled he assumes you’re asleep and gently whispers to you;

I can’t wait to make you my wife.

Thank yall so much for reading I had a really good feeling about this one! Hope yall enjoyed it!

[lovely-maki]

|Tall, Dark, & Brooding

a/n: yall im getting locked back into writing it’s been a few years so this might be a little rusty…. enjoy this frat!nanami quick fic my loves! (also not proofread so there might be some grammatical errors…)

wc: 920

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

This type of thing really, and I mean really wasn’t your type of thing. On any other Friday night, you’d be in bed, scrolling through whatever bullshit you can find on your phone before eventually drifting off.

But not tonight.

Because of course your friends wanted to drag you to the rager Alpha Chi was hosting. Normally you’d politely decline, which you were just about to, until they told you who was going to be there.

Kento fucking Nanami.

The man you’ve been practically eye fucking throughout campus this whole semester, the man you see all the time, just standing in the corners like the air around him offended him in someway. With a reluctant sigh and nod, that brings you and your friends to the frat house, where they both quickly disperse to find their own people, which just leave little old you, standing against a wall, waiting for this to all be over.

God this place sucks you think to yourself. Realistically, nothing is stopping you from calling an uber and going home. Except the small chance that you might run into him tonight, which is the only reason you decide to stay.

Across the house, however, Kento stands as far away from the rest of the sweaty uni students as he can get without leaving. He knows it’s mandatory to be there, and Gojo would throw a massive fucking fit if he wasn’t, but this place sucked. He could honestly think of a million better places to be than here, which is what he is doing as he tries to get past all of the drunk freaks and hopefully make it back to his room, until his train of thought is ruined when he bumps into someone. Right. Into. You.

“Shit, i’m sorry.”

He mutters, barely sparing you glance as he was about to continue on his way to get out of there and back to his silent sanctuary. Until he hears your voice and stops dead in his tracks. Why is she here?

“It’s no trouble at all re—“

Your words cut themselves off when you look up and see Nanami, who is staring right back at you.

You both stand there for a moment before one of you eventually decides to speak up, that of which being you.

“What are you doing here, Nanami? This doesn’t seem like your type of thing.” You ask, trying to act like this is totally normal.

“Gojo said it was mandatory that everyone in Alpha Chi attends. Unfortunately. What about you? I’ve seen you around campus before and this really doesn’t seem like something you’d enjoy.”

Nanami takes a closer look at you, trying to figure out just where he knows you from. And then it dawns on him. You’re the cute girl in his Comp class he always sees staring at him, not that he minds of course. He’s actually kind of relieved that you’re here, he’d been waiting to talk with you for ages.

“Yeah, it’s not. But Shoko and Yuki wanted me to come along with them, and I didn’t want to say no because you were gonna be here.” You reply, the words you spoke snapping him out of his trance. Nanami quickly clears his throat, acting like everything was normal.

“That sounds like them.” He mutters, looking around the party to make sure they weren’t nearby. “Since it looks like they left you here alone, do you want to find somewhere quieter? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be standing alone, in a place like this no less.”

Oh. My. God. You can’t tell if you’re dreaming all of this right now. Because the hot guy in your Comp class is asking you to go off with him and find somewhere quiet.

“Y-yeah, sure. I’d like that.” Is all you can muster out in reply before he gently grabs your hand and starts guiding you up to where his room is in the house.

You guys start talking for hours about literally anything. From studies, to what you both do for fun. It’s during this time that you realize that Mr tall, dark, and brooding isn’t so bad after all. It’s also during this time that you don’t realize it’s well after midnight.

“Shit.” You mutter, looking down at the time on your phone 2:35. “I should probably go.”

“Oh, I guess it is getting pretty late, huh.” He replies, just now realizing it’s far past midnight. “Do you want me to take you home, pretty girl?” He asks you, feeling comfortable with calling you things now that he’s gotten to know you.

“You don’t have to, Nanami. It’s no trouble for me to call an Uber.” You reply, not wanting to waste his time. He nods gently at that, getting up to open the door for you and walk you outside.

Just as you’re about to walk away, he gently grabs your wrist, making you look back at him.

“Can I— Can I have your number, pretty girl? I’d love to actually go out with you sometime.” He asks you, a soft blush creeping up his face in the moonlight.

“Yeah, sure.” You reply softly, not wanting to waste this moment to get closer to the guy you’ve been crushing on all semester. Both of you exchange contact information and socials before he gives you a quick hug and a “Goodbye, pretty girl.” Before sending you on your way. You go home that night thinking

maybe all frat boys aren’t all that bad.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

AHHH OH MY GOSH I REALLY HOPE YALL LIKE THIS I FINISHED IT WHILE I WAS HALF ASLEEP THANK YOU @sixxels FOR THE INSPO I LOVE YOU