summary: Your technique allows you to hear the thoughts of others, which you’ve spent years learning how to filter. Unfortunately, Itadori Yuuji has very loud thoughts.
warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, aged up characters, mutual thirsting, idiots in lust, reader’s technique involves mind reading, poor reader is losing her mind, sooooo much fantasizing about sooo many things: fingering, oral, spit kink, dry humping, exhibitionism
notes: happy birthday, best boy! genuinely so shocked at how quickly I turned this around. literally dropped every other wip to get it up today, but anything for best boy! (btw, this will end where it ends. if you want a follow-up use your own imagination instead of asking for a second part.)
words: 2.9k
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment
They call you the Psychic Sorcerer. Well, not they. It’s really just Gojo — or at least it’s really just Gojo to your face. Everyone else knows how much you dislike the moniker because you’re not psychic.
Your cursed technique allows you to form a telepathic connection — whether it’s with people, animals, or cursed spirits — and manipulate your target. And as part of your technique, you can see the thoughts of others, which is what psychics do, but you’re not a psychic.
Psychics look into crystal balls and read tarot cards. They claim to tell the future, speak to the dead, and exorcise spirits. Yes, you also do that last one, but you’re not a psychic. You’re a sorcerer, which you’ll admit probably sounds just as spurious to non-sorcerers…
Your technique is strong, but it’s taken you years to hone. When you were younger, you used to unknowingly slip into the minds of your playmates and the neighborhood pets, leaving them in a trance and you overwhelmed. It’s only through training and your time at Jujutsu High that you learned how to focus your technique and form a link only when you mean to.
However, there’s a part of you that thinks you’ll never be able to fully master your technique. For all your skill with it now as an adult, and after all the trial, error, and embarrassing missteps you made as a teenager, there are times when you still can’t help but pick up a stray thought if it happens to be loud enough — like two radio waves crossing.
And Itadori Yuuji’s thoughts are loud.
To be fair, most jujutsu sorcerers have loud thoughts to match their loud personalities. You particularly remember when you first met Todo and you were on the receiving end of a mental barrage of images of some idol that you faintly recalled having seen in passing before and big ass after big ass. So you’ve long made your peace with the fact that loud thoughts come with the territory.
But when you first met Yuuji during your first year at Jujutsu High, it felt like you could hear everything he was thinking — even without accounting for the curse caged inside of him. It would get so bad that you ended your days during those first weeks of knowing him feeling dizzy.
While Nobara has always been quick to project whatever irritation, excitement, or disgust she feels, her emotional flashes are quick to come but equally as quick to fade. Megumi’s unhealthy instinct to suppress everything he thinks and feels has always made him one of your favorite people to spend time with.
It’s Yuuji who thinks loudly and feels loudly around the clock. Before you learned how to filter out and block every stray thought you heard, it felt like you were constantly aware of Yuuji's status whenever he was within a few hundred meters.
You knew when he was hungry, when he was enjoying something, when he was annoyed, when he was happy, when he was excited, when he was sad, when he thought something was funny, when he had to go to the bathroom, when he didn’t understand something, when he thought a girl was hot, when he was angry, when he was in pain, when he was winning at pachinko, when he was tired.
But after so many years of training, and so many years of being his friend, his thoughts and emotions are still just as loud, but you only ever hear one if you need to in the midst of a fight — or if it’s strong enough.
And for the past few months, his thoughts have been so strong that it feels like you’re 15 all over again. It’s not all his thoughts that are strong enough to reach you against your will, just…certain ones.
The first time it happens, it’s so sudden that you feel like you’ve been hit over the head.
People assume that with your technique, you can hear every word going through someone’s mind. And while sometimes you do, people think both verbally and visually.
So, you’re not surprised when an image suddenly flashes in your head. After all, it’s a phenomenon that you’re more than used to. You are, however, surprised at the image.
Because as you’re waiting in line at a bakery to order, leaning in slightly to look at the display case of pastries, you’re suddenly assaulted with the mental picture of yourself from behind, particularly the way your dress has slightly ridden up the backs of your thighs. It’s not high enough to be obscene, only enough to hint.
And to accompany the image is a deep desire — for you to bend over further, for your dress to ride up even higher, to know what’s beneath and for it to be a thong.
You cut off the connection before you can see anymore and shoot back up to stand perfectly straight, your eyes as wide as saucers. Your heart is racing in your chest and you have to fight the urge to bury your face in your hands to hide your burning cheeks.
“Did you figure out what you want?” Yuuji’s curious voice is suddenly in your ear as he leans in over your shoulder to look at the pastry selection himself. “That ham and cheese one looks so good.”
He sounds so…unaffected, like he wasn’t just fantasizing about what your underwear looks like. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and none of it is on his face.
“Th-the pistachio one,” you mumble, distractedly pointing at the croissant in the corner of the display case.
“Oh, you’ll have to let me try a bite!” he grins, moving in even closer to look at what else the bakery has to offer, entirely oblivious to the mental breakdown he’s caused.
And that’s how it starts.
You’ll be out with Yuuji and you’ll get a flash of him wondering how soft your lips are when you apply some chapstick, or of him appreciating how your neckline dips just low enough for him to see the edge of your bra when he looks down at you.
It’s not every time you’re together, but it starts to happen often enough that you begin to prepare yourself whenever you know that you’re going to see him, just in case. And it does work. You accept that your friend seems to be attracted to you and assume that this new crush will probably go away. You’re able to shut out the thoughts as quickly as they come.
But then they get louder — and filthier. You’re no longer seeing things that could barely be considered PG-13.
You’re seeing your face coated in white streaks of Yuuji’s cum, your mouth open and your tongue sticking out to catch every last drop as he fists his cock. You’re seeing your ass in the air as he eats you out from behind, your own imagined whimpers and moans ringing in your ears as you grind back into his face. You’re seeing yourself from above, his hands on the backs of your knees pressing them towards your chest as your ankles dangle by his ears while you beg him to go “harder, Yuuji!” You’re seeing him yanking you into an alley to bend you over and fuck you against the concrete wall.
It’s only made worse by how casual he acts when you’re finally able to recover from whatever obscene display has been forced upon you and you can dare to look at him. He’s never flustered or lost in some fantasy. He’s never distracted. You never catch him staring at your tits or ass. You’ve never even been able to catch him with a tent in his pants.
He behaves as if everything is normal, like he’s just your friend that you’ve known since high school. A friend who doesn’t fantasize when you’re laughing together over hotpot about spitting in your mouth or when you finally have a chance to go see Human Earthworm 6 about you swallowing his cock in a crowded theater.
Your other friends seem to have noticed that something is off. Megumi has asked on more than one occasion if you’re coming down with something when he sees how you’ll suddenly start breaking out into a sweat. Nobara is more perceptive, immediately jumping to the conclusion that there must be a new man in your life with how flustered you’ve been lately.
There’s a sudden, sharp pang of someone else’s dismay you feel when she makes her deduction in front of your friends.
But what you don’t know how to tell her is that this new man is Yuuji, and the reason you’re so flustered is because every time you see him, he’s been unknowingly projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind. And even worse, you don’t know how to tell her that you’ve started to look forward to it.
At first, you thought the reason why you would get so wet was because Yuuji doesn’t just share what’s running through his mind, but also what he’s feeling. Your arousal is really just his arousal.
But that doesn’t explain why you’ve found your eyes lingering over his broad shoulders when his back is to you or appreciating the sight of him shirtless and sweaty after training together or wondering what it would feel like to have two of his thick fingers buried knuckle deep in your slick cunt.
And you’ve started to realize that he doesn’t even need to be around for you to end up yourself lost in a fantasy of your own making.
You’ll be scrolling through your phone and your mind will drift to how it would feel to look down and see Yuuji beneath you as you ride him, your palms pushing down against his bare chest for leverage with every rock of your hips. You’ll be sitting on the couch and wish that Yuuji were with you so you could climb into his lap and desperately grind against him until you both come in your pants as you let out needy little whimpers against his lips.
You’ll be in bed late at night with your hand buried between your legs, your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping pussy while you grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and mourn the absence of his cock.
After months of this ongoing torture, your sanity is about to snap. It feels like every time you’re together, if it’s not his fantasies that you’re seeing, it’s your own.
But then you notice a change. Because where you’ve started to feel less flustered every time one of these images is playing in your mind — so desensitized to them by this point that they leave you turned on more than anything else — he appears to be growing more flustered in your presence.
There are times when he can’t quite meet your eyes. You’ll look over at him and see that his cheeks are suddenly as pink as his hair. There’s one time where he starts to choke on the soda he’s in the middle of drinking for no apparent reason. You finally start to catch him staring longingly at your ass.
You begin to wonder if he’s close to reaching his breaking point.
It’s what you find yourself contemplating one night as you and Yuuji get caught in the rush hour crowd on the subway. He’s strong enough and thoughtful enough to have pushed a path through when you boarded, so that you can lean back against the set of doors on the opposite side. He rests his forearm above your head on the window, using his body to shield you from the rest of the crowd.
It’s an awkward situation for two friends to be in. For as much room as he tries to leave between you, people continue to get on at each station, and eventually, there’s no space left — you can feel every firm inch of him pressed against you.
He seems to be more conscious of it than you, his eyes directed nervously up at the ceiling. You’re just relieved that it’s him invading your space and not some creep who’s ready to take advantage of the close quarters.
Thankfully, most of the station platforms are on the same side as where you entered the train, so neither of you have to worry about moving or the doors you’re both leaning against opening. With Yuuji seemingly feeling too shy to talk while you’re in such an intimate position, your mind begins to wander.
What if you turn around? Yuuji would feel every one of your curves as you reposition yourself so that your tits were pressed against the window and your ass slots perfectly against his crotch. You could take his free hand in yours and slip it under your skirt and between your thighs so that he could feel the wet spot in your underwear.
Actually, in this fantasy, you’re wearing no underwear. God, the groan he’ll let out when you slide his fingers up your legs, only to find that there’s no barrier between his touch and your soaked pussy.
His cock would be so hard against your ass as you give a slow grind into it, able to feel every solid inch even through the fabric of your skirt and his pants. But you can’t waste any time — the doors supporting you both could open at any of the next stops.
So, while you flip up your skirt, he rushes to shove his pants and boxer briefs just far enough so he can pull out his cock with one hand. And that one hand is then quickly slapped over your mouth to muffle your cry when he slides his cock into your sopping cunt in one smooth stroke.
He takes you so roughly that you can’t tell if it’s the train that’s so jerky or the punishing rhythm he sets, desperate to get you both off before someone either catches you in the middle of your illicit act or you enter a station where the platform is on your side of the car.
It’s just as you slide your hand down between your legs to furiously rub at your clit that the fantasy comes to a screeching halt with all the force of someone hitting the emergency brake on the train. Because you’re suddenly incredibly aware of something hard between you.
You look down, but it’s pointless with how close Yuuji is — pointless because you can’t see beyond his chest and yours, and pointless because what else could it be other than his cock? You then look up at him with hooded eyes to see how red his face is.
He looks pained, his features scrunched together, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a bead of sweat running down his neck that you want nothing more than to catch with your tongue. You tilt your head to the side curiously, wondering why he’s so distressed. Obviously, he’s feeling embarrassed, you don’t need to be able to read his mind to know that. But this seems to be something beyond simple embarrassment.
Feeling your gaze on him, he eventually opens his eyes and gathers the courage to look down at you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see how wide his pupils are, his warm brown irises merely a thin ring around them, and how you can see a mixture of deep hunger, desperation, and pleading.
“I’m begging you,” he says. His voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the train as it continues to run along its track, but it’s impossible to miss the rasp to it. “You have got to stop doing that. You’re killing me.”
Your forehead wrinkles as you frown in confusion, trying to understand what he’s talking about. But then he lifts his free hand, the one you had just been fantasizing about having between your legs, and taps his index finger meaningfully against his temple, and you gasp so loudly that you know other passengers have turned to see what’s happening.
Because over the months where Yuuji has been projecting his thoughts, unaware that they’ve been loud enough that you can’t help but hear them, it never occurred to you that a longer-lasting connection was slowly forming with every image, every word, every emotion. Your mind became so open to receiving what he was unknowingly sharing that you hadn’t realized that you were slipping into his mind the way you used to do with others when you were younger and still learning the basics of your technique.
And what you grew to understand as you developed it was that if you don’t form a barrier to protect what’s in your mind, then the connection becomes reciprocal and your target can see everything that you’re thinking, too.
Which means that for the last few months, it’s not only him who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind, but also you who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into his mind.
All you can do is stare up at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. Unfortunately, while you’ve lost your ability to speak, your mind refuses to quiet and all you can think of is how you want him to stick his fingers in your mouth.
From the way his head drops back with a deep groan, it seems you’ve accidentally projected that as well.
SUBJECT: ESTABLISHMENT OF EXTERNAL COMMUNICATION CHANNEL — UNIT 12
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To the Executive Manager (and associated personnel),
Let it be known that I, Outis, Sinner #12 of the Limbus Company, have established this terminal for the purpose of streamlined reporting and tactical coordination.
While certain individuals on this bus — whom I shall not name out of respect for the Manager’s patience — prefer to waste their time with frivolous "posting," I recognize this platform for what it truly is: a valuable theater for information gathering and loyalty demonstration.
Understand the following protocols before attempting correspondence:
Chain of Command: All inquiries will be processed with the Executive Manager’s best interests in mind. If your "ask" does not contribute to the success of our mission or the glory of the Company, do not expect a response.
Anonymity: The Executive Manager has no need for the words of cowards who hide their faces. All 'anonymous' inquiries are classified as potential threats to the Manager's safety. I am currently cross-referencing your biometric signature against known Nest databases. Cease these amateur attempts at obfuscation immediately.
Efficiency: Be brief. I have a long list of duties provided by the Manager, and I will not let a civilian's curiosity interfere with my performance metrics.
Operational Security: Questions regarding my past service, the Smoke War, or the specific origin of my equipment will be met with immediate redaction. Some things are better left "Nobody’s" business.
I am here to serve the Manager and ensure this mission reaches its conclusion with 100% efficiency. If you are a Sinner seeking to slack off: Return to your post! If you are an ally of the Company: State your business.
I await the Manager’s orders.
Outis
Chief Counsel & Adjutant to the Executive Manager
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> Honestly, I don't have much to say for my OOC section.. Be warned, though: she might be mean to your muse, but it’s just her way of saying she thinks you’re a security risk! so it's basically a compliment.
> In any case, if it ever becomes an issue (which I hope not) — I'm a pretty chillaxed and jokey person myself, so please take everything in the lightest way if there's ever any doubt ^^
> I have no rules myself for what you shouldn't send (i'm a major, not a minor), just don't start pelting me with tomatoes or something
> this blog runs on EST / GMT-4.
Tag Directory ──
#Field Reports & Inquiries — Responses to those who have followed protocol in my inbox.
#The Manager’s Absolute Will — Posts dedicated to the brilliance and wisdom of the Executive Manager.
#Sinner Performance Reviews — Observations regarding the tactical (in)competence of my "teammates."
#Tactical Observations — Reblogs and data relevant to survival and combat.
#Redacted History — Matters regarding the past that I have deemed safe for public consumption (minimal).
#Signal Interference — Out-of-character notes and technical updates.
📺 SIGNAL // INTERFERENCE — A TWITCH PACK 📺
by @aloemoonflwr
🩸 You were never meant to tune in.
Inspired by analog horror, corrupted VHS archives, and cursed transmissions, this fully themed Twitch pack is designed to make your stream look like a broadcast that shouldn't exist.
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✦ Font links + usage instructions
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[Aside from me, there are some smalll and rather resilient creatures. Living beings can be forgotten and deleted, although it's very unlikely to happen given they're living, breathing things and not inanimate objects.]
[You would think a place of deleted content would be barren. But, not really. Everything here is a shadow of what it used to be, slowly fading. But many things are carelessly deleted every day. It's a constant cycle of things arriving and leaving... you would think that would be more interesting, huh.]