a/n: heres the second top vote for the headcanon poll! can you tell i LOVE silly, TOUCHY gojo? (˶˃⤙˂˶) and how did this reach 1k words...
……...
“Tighten your core”
A warm, large hand settles between your shoulder blades. Another rests on the small of your back, his hands pressing forward softly, maneuvering your positioning to his will.
“Its all in your stance. That’s your foundation” His breath fans your ear, hot and targeted – with him looming over you from behind.
Slowly, his hands glide over you till both settle on each sides of your waist; large hands consuming you.
“Are you following along?” His fingers grip your waist slightly tighter, tapping his fingers twice over where he’s holding – a second reminder to activate your core.
You nod, not trusting yourself enough to use your voice. It doesn’t take much for you to easily complying to all of his instructions and orders.
Slowly, to help you engage your body-to-mind connection, he pulls you ever so slightly back by your waist, closer into him. His hands mold your body to his touch, till his bodyheat starts tickling your back.
“Its all in the foundation, pretty. A bad foundation leads to a collapsing structure, mhm?” he hums into your ear, his hands slowly disappearing around you, returning to his side.
“Now, show me what I just taught you” He steps back, hands slipping into his pockets, movements too calm and casual and you're left to act like you too are equally as unaffected.
……...
He wears his blindfolds the least around you, preferring to train you with his bright, watchful eyes on you, tracking your every movement to spot all your mistakes easier; or so he claims.
You pout. “That’s unfair. You’re already unbeatable as is.” You suggest a handicap. Just to make things a little more even and fair.
“Oh? And what would it be?” he tilts his head slightly to the side, that same infuriating teasing smile playing on his face.
“Your blindfolds” he quirks a brow at you, one side of his lips curling further upwards.
“Sure, knock your self out.” He doesn’t turn around for you himself, just stands there, hips thrusted to one side, waiting for you to come to him.
Slowly, reluctantly, you step closer, surprised he agreed to your request this fast. Rounding him, you take the blindfold from his hand, fingers brushing his oddly warm ones before you hastily wrap it around his wrists behind his back.
Going back to your spot, you adjust your stance – setting yourself.
The sight of him with his hands tied up behind his back brings a spark of satisfaction to you. He catches it, of course; smirking that slightly mock-amusement smirk of his.
“You think this will slow me down or something? Cute”
……...
His movements are too quick. Too cruel. His feet move far too fast for you to keep up.
His bright smile reaching his pretty eyes makes you think he’s doing it on purpose – outperforming you at a lever way above yours to get off on it.
He plays dirty and unfair.
“Focus” in a siwft motion, he’s suddenly standing behind you, speaking directly into your ear, glee threaded and intertwined in his tone. Soft and cruel, like poison in honey.
His hands are pushing you, and by the way his push lands you softly onto your stomach, you know he isn’t even breaking a sweat, going easy on you.
“If you lose, you'll have to fulfill your end of the deal and do as i say” His voice rings behind you, his footsteps approaching slowly as you groan, pushing yourself onto your elbows.
“No no, stay” Gojo sing-songs, looms over you. Slowly, he drops down until his knees hit the ground around you, caging you in under him. Leaning down with his hands still behind his back, he whispers “Im not done with you yet”
……...
“Come on, fight me back” he grits out between his teeth, pushing you harsher into the wall. You’re inside his indoor training room he uses for one-on-one spars – usually with either you or Megumi. The lights are starting to feel too bright, and the air clammier between you two.
He has his long fingers wrapped around both of your wrists, giving them one quick squeeze when he notices your mind is elsewhere.
“The curses won’t wait for you to get back on track. Now, fight me.” He repeats, huffing softly under his breath.
But you’re not complying. At least, not in his eyes.
You’re squirming too much, barely able to push him off you, still stuck against the wall when he isn’t even gripping you as hard as he could.
You’ve seen that man split curses in half with his bare hands before – you know he’s holding back.
You give a small, weak tug on your wrists, doing little to nothing.
He only presses closer, pushing himself further into you until you're flush against the wall.
“If you want to break free, then prove it. Fight back.”
“…”
You’re too quiet, your eyes flickering between the two light oceans staring back at you this closely.
He mirrors your actions, his own gaze mapping out your expression. His jaw ticks.
With one swift motion, he pushes himself off of you, leaving you leaning against the wall, his back to you.
“You’re too comfortable with getting stuck. I won’t go easy on you next time” He huffs out, practically growling at you. Pushing the sliding doors open, he steps out without looking back at you once.
……...
He usually takes you for ice cream after training you till your body aches – a small motivation to move forward.
He only grants you this after being too harsh on you, his hands being too fast to grip you, sending you blow after blow while he watches comfortably.
He enjoys that, pushing you to your limits and beyond.
The ice cream is there to compensate for it so you don’t hate him for eternity.
……...
He takes you shopping with Nobara as well, holding both of your hands like you’re kindergarten students on a school trip with your teacher.
However, the way his hand gripps yours – long fingers wrapping around yours, hot skin pressing into your palm – is not childish, per say.
Abuse + Eyestrain + light suggestiveness warning!! Putting this under the cut just in case even though it’s supposed to be angsty and not really suggestive. Alan is wearing a dog collar and muzzle for symbolism reasons but you can probably tell why it may appear suggestive lolll
I love this song (Animal Cannibal, that one song from the short film Possibly in Michigan) SO MUCH!! I've been wanting to do sth with the lyrics for a while since it fits Alan's and Nathan's dynamic so well!!
Personally I see Alan kinda like a hurt dog, lashing out at people coming close to him due to the things he's been through. He has no other choice but to return to his abuser Nathan because otherwise he would literally be homeless and without a job. Al bites the hand that feeds him (Nathan) because he despises Nathan, but is still dependant on him to receive his food.
The power that Nathan holds over Alan is symbolized here through the dog muzzle and leash. Al has no way to break free unless an outside force intervenes.
And the lyrics "Have we met before?" repeating in the background fits pretty well too because of Al finally recognizing Nathan after the transmission incident. Their mental link from that incident chains him to Nathan even further.
So uh. yeah. As you can tell im still very normal about The Character™️
synopsis: your love for your adopted brother Geto is like how the stars need the sun – both shining because of each other, becoming dependent on the other to shine; where there is no sun, theres no stars. But you know how that would sound were you to say it out loud. That’s why you operate in secrecy; in codes and hidden meanings, going to great lengths for the ones you love.
a/n: i thought i should post this since i wount be able to post the gojo req till tomorrow ≧◡≦
The stars in the sky have always known you and Suguru as two pairs of the same pot, a 2in1 pack everyone knew you as for what felt like almost your entire life. That is, since you and him got taken in by your adoptive father Yaga, a headmaster at University of Acrux. Where you went, he went; and where you were, he was there too. Attached at the hip, really.
It was seen as endearing; a brother and sister who can’t go long without missing the other. Adorable, right.
That is before you grew up to garden stronger feelings and more responsibilities than little you and Suguru could every imagen.
The sweet, innocent moments shared between you as kids: All the times you did each other’s hairs, your fingers gliding throw his silky inks as he sat content on the floor between your legs. All the times you two cuddled in bed, soft and warm till you fell asleep tangled up in each other’s arms – where you ended, he started. And the times where he would yell at his friends for not letting you play with them for saying ‘you’re a girl’.
All those instances; innocent and sweet, nourished a deep, stupid type of care for Suguru to bloom in your chest. It was childish at first, innocent; wanting to cling to him at all times, weather awake or asleep; wanting his full attention on you, doing stupid stuff to satiate that gnawing craving in you – hurting yourself in the making.
Until your care started transcending the universe. This once innocent, harmless affection you harboured multiplying exponentially, gnawing at you in aching, rotten ways as you grew older with him.
God, you were stupid for that. So, so utterly, unescapably stupid.
What would people say?
What would Yaga say?
……............
“I’m going out” you announce, heels click down the spiral stairs, that sound like a timed ticking bomb waiting to blow up in your face one day. There, at the bottom of the stairs stands Suguru, his eyes raking slowly over your outfit. Mainly the low cut to your shirt and how tiny that skirt you’re wearing is.
“Dressed like that?” He eyes you flatly, his usually soft and delicate features hardening into a near scowl. Oh, he doesn’t like how some parts of you are showing a little too much? Too bad.
“Yeah, why? Do I have a stain somewhere? Can’t go looking anything less than dolled up for my boyfriend.” Tilting your head slightly to the side, you bat your eyes up at him. “Gojo wouldn’t like that” you add, click clacking your way towards the kitchen, dismissing him.
Left to stand there on his own, Suguru’s eyes follow your every movement, tracking you. Your words ring in his mind like a broken echo chamber. My boyfriend, Gojo, my boy- God, he can’t stand the fact you’re dating that obnoxious, high on himself prick with his daddys money to flaunt around. Freaking Gojo, out of all people on Gods insufferable green earth.
You can feel his eyes pricking your back like pointy needles, sharp and tiny. If he’s so willing to be your audience, then the least you could do is put on a performance for him, right? You’re only being hospitable, after all.
Tipping forward, one hand on the counters edge, the other raised high above your head, you tip toe on your heels. Attempting to reach for the top cabinet drawer, already feeling your short skirt ride higher. The higher you go, the higher it lifts, feeling it tickle the underside of your-
Suguru presses into your back, his breath heavy as he reaches over you for the last glass conveniently being in the highest drawer, his fingers brushing against yours on their way up. You stay that way, letting him drag the moment more than necessary, enjoying the heat of his chest seeping into your back, branding you from behind. Slow and hot. Agonizingly slow.
Suguru remains like that for a second too long, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around the glass of water in his hand, hyperaware of the way his body is pressing into yours; of how dangerous this compromising position is. Suguru clenches his teeth, grinding them tightly shut to force his sanity back in.
“…here” Cool air rushes back in to replace his heat with something less welcomed, the space between you widening as he pulls back slowly, setting the glass in front of you on the kitchen counter. You manage to wipe that frown from your lips as soon as it formed, yet the slight disappointed furrow in your brows remain. Thankfully, with your back to him, he can’t see any of the turmoil bubbling over inside of you.
God, you’re losing your grip on your self-control lately. When were you unable to fix your face into the expression you willed it to be? This is bad.
You fill the cup full of water, it overspilling onto the sink. Then, you’re spinning around on your heels, the glass in your hand held high as it starts dripping droplets of water down the glass, onto your exposed legs. It’s time to compensate for your lack of control over the situation.
With your eyes glued to his, you lift the glass to your lips and take a slow sip, savouring the coolness of it running down your throat, eyes on his like you’re in pure bliss; transcending the heavens.
The pearl of water sliding down the side of your mouth doing exactly what it was intended for. His eyes follow its path as it makes its way slowly down the expanse of your neck, eyes sticky, unable to look away from the way you gulp down your glass.
He quickly darts his eyes elsewhere, swallowing. That earns a small, triumph smile from you in secret. He could be as still as a stone, his face showing no sign of any emotion or reaction; but his eyes will always betray him. Despite how you weren’t so fluent in decoding his small movements and involuntary queues – with him being too good at keeping himself in control and all of that – his eyes was still the hardest thing for him to truly, fully control. You made good use of that knowledge, seeking out his eyes every time you wanted a true reaction, one as closest to the real and raw him as possible.
After all, they say eyes are the portals to the heart.
“Thanks for the glass, brother” breaking the moment – calling him by that –, you slowly make your way out of the kitchen, leaving him to stand there on his own all over again as he watches you head off somewhere without him.
……............
Dim lights and loud music filled Gojo’s flush and gilded apartment, his entire place filled with too many equally as obnoxious and power-hungry people, way too high on themselves. Here you could find about every rich kid from University of Acrux with a prick up their ass swarming around Satoru Gojo for approval. They probably think that would grant them a one way ticket up the social ladder. Fools.
Your hand runs down Gojo’s arm, him leaning over the countertop, standing in the cocktail corner with two guys beaming at just getting to hear him talk within hearing vicinity. Behind you are two other girls foaming at the mouth, sending nasty glares your way. You ignore them, squeezing Gojo’s arm lightly, digging your nails slightly further into his pristine skin.
It doesn’t matter that you don’t really like him, he is still not theirs. Nor yours, really, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that these crazy-rich kids can’t have whatever their sticky, grabby hands reach for. It gives you a high, letting them know they aren’t as worshiped as they think they are.
“Want something, pretty?” asks your boyfriend, eyes flickering up to yours, the two immature boys long forgotten by now. He has some time to kill, might as well do that with someone good enough to itch that greedy craving in him. Tilting his head to the side and curling his back forward; low, practically resting his head on his folded arms resting on the dry bar countertop. He flashes you a sly smile. “Wanna get wasted with me?”
And that’s how you ended up with three different drinks in front of you, all with the same color matching that tiny skirt you wore to Gojo’s house party. Calling it a mere ‘house party’ is a near insult given how huge this place is. That guy is filthy rich.
The night stretched out until the familiar stars shone in the dark, hanging from the sky for you to enjoy. Or meant for you to enjoy, if it weren’t for Gojo’s constant drunkenly nagging about how you don’t ‘take care of him’ well enough as his girlfriend. Whenever the party gets a little too loud and bizarre, dragging out to late hours, Gojo would keep reminding you about how ‘mean’ you are for not having been physical with him yet. You knew he was just one of those same stupid rick kids at Acrux, he just loves to remind you of that lately.
Shrugging him off with smiles and light, modest touches, you let the swarming girls take over and slip away into the balcony far away from the deafening music and kiss-ass compliments thrown across the room from one obnoxious kid to another even more obnoxious kid.
To your surprise, you find Shoko Ieiri resting against the railing with a cigarette between her index and thumb, looking out at the night buzzing with life a few blocks down Gojo’s apartment.
“Oh hey, didn’t see you there” you step closer to the railing, fingers gripping the cold edge of it. “Got tired of the loud music, huh?” You initiate polite small talk, haven’t anticipated anyone to be out here at the same time as you. Your little escape plan must wait a little more.
Shoko hums, shooting you a glance from the corner of her eyes. “Your brother didn’t come with you this time?” She pulls out a slow trail of smoke only to suck one back in.
Right, brother. That’s all he should be to them. To you, especially. Funny.
“Not tonight, no” the truth is you didn’t tell him you were going to Gojo’s place for a party. Things would turn much more complicated If he tagged along where alcohol ran in your bloodstream. You cant afford having him around in an environment you tend to feel vulnerable and exposed in once the drinks settle in, slow and stinging.
“He wanted to be a boring homebody today” You shrug, slowly turning so that your back rests against the balustrade. Your head tips back, letting the cool wind play with your hair, raking its fingers through it, swaying it in a slow dance.
“I should probably head inside. It’s getting a little cold out here” You suck a breath in, tone as light as the wind as you straighten up. Brother. That word keeps ringing in your head, reflecting and echoing over and over, till your mood turns sour and you can’t pretend to tolerate the stupid people in this equally as stupid house party.
Shoving yourself off the glass balcony railing, you start heading inside, leaving Shoko to smoke on her own. “See you, Shoko” Not waiting for a reply, you head back to the bar corner, letting your illogical thoughts lead you to pour yourself a couple more drinks – the strongest you could find.
……............
The door unlocks to Geto on the other side dressed in black sweats and a white t-shirt. “Hey, man. She’s wasted. I tried to warn her, but...” Gojo sells his cheap, ‘affectionate boyfriend’ act Geto barely buys. Getos eyes trail over you two, over the way your legs wrap around Gojo’s hips – snug –, your arms around his neck, practically melting into him. Getos gaze drops to where Gojo’s arms encircle your waist, one of his hands resting on the plump of your backside in a sloppy attempt at covering some of what’s out and about under your skirt. He quickly flickers his gaze back up to Gojo’s.
Getos eyes squint into slits, his lower lip tipping upwards in disapproval. “I’ll take it from here” he simply states, voice low, moving closer to grab you instead. Stepping closer, his large, warm hands press into your sides, peeling you off Gojo before bringing you to your feet, carefully slow. He stands there, one arm around your waist holding you up, watching Gojo until he steps down the stairs, leaving you two to yourselves.
You inch closer to Suguru, grumbling softly under your breath before your head falls gently onto his hard chest, rendering his thoughts quiet. Taking in the smell of fresh, clean laundry – his usual scent. You close your eyes and let him deal with this version of you.
“Come, let’s take you inside” his hands claim the place where Gojo’s hands were, holding you close by your waist, tone quiet as he guides you inside.
Dragging you with him inside, careful to not let you hit any sharp, sudden corners, he shuts the door behind him. the house is too quiet like this, your adoptive father probably fast asleep in his room, oblivious to your drunken self downstairs. Geto guides you to your room down the hallway, shutting the door behind him once inside.
He stills you against the door, pressing your back softly against the cold, hard wood. His eyes find yours, hands returning to his side. They look darker in your dimly lit room than their usual caramel swirls. “Did you really have to get so wasted you had to be carried?” His grumbles under his breath. Sighing, he continues. “You were out for longer than usual” he tried this time, voice lowering, softening to coax answers out of you.
“Lost track of time” you shrug, eyebrows quirking up slightly, following the motion of your shoulders before giving him a slow smile, the corners of your lips turning cruel. “Gojo wanted me to stay after the party” your tone is so soft one could easily mistake it for simple, innocent conversation. “He gets needy and annoying when he’s drunk” you add, chuckling sweetly, eyes searching his.
He doesn’t add anything to your words, welcoming the silence to form in the small gap between you. “You don’t have anything to say?” you question, tone all lighthearted and carefree. “About what?” “About him” you respond quickly, a small smile playing on your lips. “You seem to talk enough about him for the both of us”
Silence settles between you for a moment, no comment from Getos side, before he starts: “Did you have fun?” He asks all of a sudden, body so close to yours you can practically feel his heat wash over you, his eyes silently flickering between yours.
“You never ask” you blink up at him, head tilted back against the door to accommodate his hight. “Did you?” he repeats softly, his hands lifting slightly, halting, suspended in air before they return back to his side.
Your head tipped slightly to one side, putting on your innocent act before answering him. “Very” your small smile, and the way you look at him through our lashes makes him squint a little, barely imperceptible. Not filling the silence himself, you decide to double down instead. “Memorable” you let the words escape you like a breath, eyes blinking slowly up at him, letting your slither itself deep inside of him, planting rotten seeds in his head of what might have conspired in your absence.
His hands stay limp by his side. Stiff.
“You should sleep. You need all the rest you could get after tonight” taking one slow step away from you, the cool night air fills in the place he occupied like a mocking phantom. “I sure do” you sing song, words slurred as you slip away from the door, giving him room to leave you alone – controlling the situation. In your head, at least.
“…good night” He murmurs as he slips out of your room, heading to his own down the hallway across from yours. Once you hear the familiar click of his bedroom door, you let the mask slip, collapsing onto your bed face first. Wiggling out of your tight clothes clawing uncomfortably at your skin, you wait for the night to spin the knot in your chest and weave it into one of the many stars hanging from the sky.
[To be continued...]
Daizzzy ᝰ.ᐟ
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a/n: ive never written this much ahhhhh idk how to feel about this. i think im a little proud
