in which, toji accidentally slips your new vibrator onto himself and turns his dick like one instead…
I 𝓲. I mdni ୨୧ f! reader. usage of a vibrator. squirting. praising + degrading. pet names: baby. overstimulation. mentions of: cock rings. size difference.
note. repost from my old blog !! :p
TOJI NEVER ENJOYED TOYS in bed, thinking—knowing he, himself was enough. maybe too much even… how you could barely handle just his rugged body pressing against yours alone – full flush as his cock barrels deep into your sopping cunt was more than enough to keep you happy.
but the idea of bringing more fun into bed – just purely bullying your pussy at this point was a hobby for him. he just couldn't resist even then…
practically numb. your bundle of nerves tingle with the vibrations of the soft toy playing idly at your now puffy clit; feeling how toji rolls the intimate plaything and presses it harder as he nudges his cock in deeper. barreling himself bottomless and plunging with languid strokes almost agonizingly.
the vibrator alongside was setting off new sensations to run down your spine and coil neverending heat into your tummy. the different modes roll across your slit as the sauntering man above stuffs his cock in full chastity into your gummy walls, stretching them wide to his liking.
“atta girl-- told yah you’d like this stupid little thing,—” toji groans at the sudden slip when he leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss to your puckering lips. the toy vibrating too fast in his barred hands, it slips downwards. accidentally adding pleasure to the base of his cock — catching him off guard.
““oh-- fuck.”” you both moan in unison.
leafy eyes flicker up to yours, catching how your stomach sunk in, “you… you felt that too?” and they flicker into cavernous fleeting thoughts as you try to nod…
toji kept the toy spinning.
planting it steadily at the base of his cock and leaving the rest of his length buried inside of you. he could feel the toy vibrate against his skin and forcing a jitter to his cock—practically making a toy of himself for you; and the foreign feeling of toji’s shaft jerking inside of you without the snapping of his hips was extending the syllables of his name until words were barely recognizable.
not only did it this sensation arch your back into a bow — creating the perfect parabola, but it made toji moan more louder, and it was such a turn-on hearing that bleak man howl out more like a bitch in heat.
creating a sopping mess below you, your needy cunt was webbing a translucent ring of slick around the crown of his cock in response.
“fuck-- yes! toji, yes!—” the pillow behind catches your swinging head—a head of mush. losing the ability to have coherent thoughts and to only babble out unknown words.
“i know-- fuck, i know.” toji’s voice is deeper now, more primal, and he punctuates the singular word of, “fuck.” with another deep stroke to your cunt. practically rutting against your body with shakes of trembling legs as your own bent above his broad shoulders, almost paralyzing.
your nails dig into the nearest surface with an agape jaw. only heavy breaths and wails of pleas spew out.
pretty lips pulling back in an action that left raw teeth marks to linger — ridden and puffy, just like your bundle of nerves. toji pressed a toying thumb at your soft spot on replace of the toy, rolling and pinching at the sensitive pearl as he fucked you raw.
this feeling of you both gaining the power of this little plaything was as if he could perceive your sins through the sparks of your rolling, sweating bodies together ‘till you bottomed out. falling into complacency when toji choose that moment to buck up into you just so.
bumping into your sweet spot in a way that caused an explosion of sparks to erupt in your brain.
your eyes peel back wide while held-back cries of exotic moans spiral out of control until your spongy walls spasm and clench tightly around his cock.
toji’s being far more insistent than a few seconds ago as his jutting dick vibrated deep inside of you only causing a fleeting across your body—shivers to crawl and a shameful tremble of pleasure to increase. you suck thick air through gritted teeth as cum glistened around his cock, some even pooling against the sheets.
he grunts, “one more time… cum f’me one more time before i do, baby… i know you can.”
maybe this toy wasn't such a bad idea, besides that it created more interest — more interest in bullying, your poor, weeping pussy for his sake!
“don't they make cock rings for stuff like this? we should get one after…”
SYNOPSIS...your situationship with the older man was supposed to be no more than casual sex, but you found yourself falling for him knowing he didn’t feel the same. All Toji wanted was a girl who’d give him the attention he craved, so when he found out you caught feelings, he called it off. Though, he finds himself looking for you in every other girl he meets
INFO...dilf!toji x fem!reader, angst, situationship, slight age gap (reader in early 20s, toji in early 30s), reader has feelings for toji but he doesn’t feel the same, implied sex, partying, drinking, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
The morning sun broke through the curtains of Toji’s bedroom, beams of light falling upon his face as he awoke. A tired groan left his lips as he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. A cold breeze hit his skin as he pulled the duvet off of his body. A pounding feeling erupted in his head as he sat up, remnants of last night popping into his head. The scent of a subtle but strong perfume filled his nostrils befkre he was reminded of the woman he had brought home with him. He looked over his shoulder with narrow eyes, the girls long, silky black hair laid out across the silk pillow. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath as she soundly slept comfortably in his bed. Toji rolled his eyes at the sight, looking away from her.
Clothes were thrown across the wooden floor of his bedroom, his and hers mixed up. He grabbed a pair of sweats from his dresser, quickly throwing them on as he walked to the restroom to use it and brush his teeth. It was obvious Toji had brought her here for sex, though he can barely remember talking to her last night. How much did he drink? He light out a sigh, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink before rinsing his mouth out. Staring at his reflection, his fingertips ran over his eye bags, a significant sign of age and lack of sleep that he was getting. He popped open the bottle of Tylenol, downing two pills with a quick sip of water from the sink.
“Morning.” Toji stopped in his tracks as he heard a soft voice call out to him. He looked up and saw the girl he had brought home was awoke, hair frizzy with a lazy smile on her face as she covered up her naked body with the fluffy duvet. Toji walked into the room, giving her silent nod of approval. “I had a good time last night.” She reached her hand out to his arm, squeezing at his bicep, her acrylic nails slightly digging into his skin. “Breakfast?” She asked.
“I’d love to, but uh, I got somewhere to be.” He scratched the back of his neck, shrugging her hand off of him. He could see the evident pout in her features. “Work stuff, you know?” He let out a light chuckle. The girl nodded back. He looked down at the floor, grabbing her panties for her as she began to get dressed. “Here.” He held up the thin piece of fabric.
“Thanks.” She grabbed them from him and slipped them on. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again. No string attached, of course.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she buttoned her jeans. Toji was all too familiar with the ‘no strings attached’ rules. He’s done it a million times before, all different women, older and younger, either way they didn’t mean much to him. The last relationship he had like that was with someone younger, nearly a decade younger than him. Though he was enjoying his time with her, it turned out all the same, the forbidden events of catching feelings and losing it all. He couldn’t risk it, couldn’t deal with another relationship, it’s not what he wanted, it’s not what you both agreed to.
“Hey!” The woman’s voice snapped him out his thoughts, now realizing that she was standing in front of him. He looked down at the small piece of paper in her hand, numbers scribbled on it. “Call me if anything.” She placed a kiss on his cheek, smirking at him as she walked out and out the front door of his apartment. He inspected the numbers on the paper, scoffing and crumpling it up in the palm of his hand. He doesn’t even remember last night, doesn’t even know if it felt good, if it was worth it. Why was he even doing this if each time he ends up feeling nothing and forgetting everything in the end?
He plopped down on the edge of his bed, letting out a deep sigh and throwing the small piece of paper somewhere into the corner of his room. He’ll clean it up later. He can’t stand another night of getting drunk at a random club or bar taking every girl he lays eyes upon back to his house. He used to love it, love the adrenaline it gave him, but now it just tires him out, fogs his mind. Maybe he was getting too old for this.
The time went by slowly as you sat at your desk, waiting for the moment you could finally go home. The office was quiet, not much work had to be done today, yet you were still asked to stay just in case. Getting a job fresh out of university wasn’t for the weak. Being put to work immediately right after getting your degree felt like an entire alternate universe. You went from having fun and hanging out with friends to working full time and always tired, too tired to even do errands. “Y/n, still here?” Your coworker asked.
“Mm, yeah.” You rubbed your eyes. “I think I’m gonna head out though.” You pressed the off button on your computer, putting your belongs into your bag. Your coworker hummed in response, giving you a quickly goodbye as you walked out of the office. The walk to your car was silent, left you thinking about how quickly your life has changed. You thought about the time you were in college in a few months ago and met this guy who always came into the coffee shop that you worked at part time. He was tall, handsome, had dark hair and an intimidating presence. He was older than you, but you didn’t mind. You find him cute, handsome, flirting with him just for fun because what else was there to do at the boring job you worked around. Surprisingly, he would flirt back, always make an appearance and made sure to come in when you worked. He came in so much that you memorized his order, you still remember to this day.
It was a mistake to indulge in that stupid crush of yours, to accept the invite to his house to have ‘dinner’. That dinner ended turning into something much more. Deep conversations about life and what you wanted to do after graduation. You got to know each other very well in just the few hours you hung out with him and before you knew it, you ended up in his bed. It didn’t happen once either, it kept happening again and again. It was a dangerous game you were playing, especially with a man who was nearly a decade older than you. He was everything you wanted in a man, secure in his work, his own place and car, makes money, spoils you, and fucks you good. All the other boys you were with in college didn’t compare to him, he brought breath or fresh air into your life. It was just one thing that bugged you, something you knew you couldn’t bring up to him.
He wasn’t the type to commit to anything. It was clear from the very start he was only looking for something temporary. Each time he called you up it’ll be to ask you if you were busy and if you could stop by his place. You already knew what he was asking for, and you knew it was the only way to get his attention and be close with him. It crushed you inside, especially when you both agreed this would turn into nothing more, but the lingering touches he leave on your skin told a different story. The way his arms wrapped around your waist and he held you close after sex made you feel a sense of hope. The times you two would eat breakfast at the dining table, laughing at how much syrup you’d douse your pancakes in. All those things gave you a false thought that maybe he’d feel the same.
Was he doing it on purpose to play with your feelings? Did he know that a young girl like you would fall so easily into his trap and find amusement in breaking your heart? The weight of holding the truth was heavy on your shoulders. You remember the night you told him, finally confessing your feelings for him regardless of how he felt. You couldn’t stand keeping it to yourself anymore and you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone about your relationship with him without getting shamed for it. Afraid you’d be told how stupid you were to fall for an older man, how he’d never feel the same and he was only using you because how naive you were. It was that night that you texted him, asking to meet up. You made your way to his apartment, heart thumping in your chest as you recited what you were going to say over and over in your head.
When you saw his face, it’s like all thoughts went out the window. Everything that you had planned on saying to him seemed to have disappeared. “Missed me?” He asked jokingly as he allowed you in. You wanted to say yes, give him the truthful answer, but all you did was laugh it off. Toji didn’t expect the mood to change so suddenly when you said you need to talk to him. In his head, he already knew what it was about. He’s been through this situation too many times before not to know. His smile dropped as you dropped the words his didn’t want to hear.
“I have feelings for you.” The silence was deafening and left you feeling like an idiot as you sat there and watched him walk over to kitchen counter to pour himself a glass of whiskey. Typical. He sighed, gulping down the bitter liquid before his eyes met yours.
“I thought we agreed that we weren’t gonna catch feelings.” He clenched his jaw, running his hand over his face. Immediately, you knew that he didn’t feel the same and it all came crashing down on you that maybe you shouldn’t have said a word. “You should’ve known better. I should’ve known better than to mess with a young girl like you.” Another sigh left his lips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You grew defensive at his words.
A bitter laugh left his lips. “What do you think it means? You’re too young, live off attention and fall for anyone who gives it to you.”
You were at a loss for words. “So you’re saying it’s my fault? Were you not the one cuddling me after ‘meaningless sex’? Were you not the one cooking breakfast for the both of us when I stayed over? Were you not the one offering to buy me things? What’d you expect?!” You were bewildered that he was putting this all on you when he was the one treating this like a relationship in the first place.
“I expected you to understand,” he bluntly spoke. “Clearly I overestimated your ability to.” He stared at you with dead eyes. You couldn’t put this all on him, you knew from the beginning what you were getting into, but sometimes the heart wants what it wants you couldn’t stop yourself. So, you blame yourself too. Maybe you were too young to understand. You guess this is how he’s treated all the other women that came before you, they understood him better. “I was just looking for a good time.”
Your throat felt like it was closing in. What more could you say to him? It’s not like you were going to change his mind. He’s said what he said. This wasn’t a fairytale romance where he magically falls for you, what were you thinking? He’s a man in his thirties who isn’t tied down yet and that should’ve been loud enough for you, yet here you, indulging in everything he had to offer, all for a little fun. “I was too, I guess I got too carried away,” you spoke just above a whisper. Embarrassing. Without saying another word, you hurriedly left his apartment and never looked back. It was best to leave and forget about it. Forget about him.
Thinking back on it, you wish you would’ve ignored him, treated him like a normal customer that came into the coffee shop. It would’ve saved you so much time, so much confusion. You never spoke to him against after that talk, blocking his number on the way out of his apartment so you’d never be tempted to contact him again. Now, all you do is go to work and sit at home, binge watching your favorite shows and movies while you eat a standard microwaved meal. Boring, but it was your life now. The young girl in you itched for drama and fun, but you had to remind yourself you’re getting older and that life will no longer be benefit you. Dabbling in things you have no business in will only lead to consequences. You had to figure that out the hard way. Obviously.
It was the first night in weeks that Toji hasn’t gone out in search of a woman to accompany him, give him temporary pleasure only to forget about it in the next few hours. Hell, the woman earlier this morning, he didn’t even remember her name. Did she even know his? He was bored out of his mind, stuck inside his head as he watched the show on his tv, clearly trying to occupy himself. He stood up to his feet, his shoulders dropping as he exhaled and looked at the small piece of white paper he had thrown in the corner of the room earlier.
He was debating it, calling her. Anything to make this boredom go away. He just didn’t want her thinking this would be the start of something, it wasn’t interested in going down that path again.
“I was too, I guess I got too carried away.” Your voice rang in his head like an echo. He immediately sat back down on his bed. It was a reminder to him how he almost got too carried away. He was slipping, becoming too soft. Those nights he let you stay over, cook breakfast with him. The way he cuddled you, held you close against him and kissed your forehead. How quick he was to buy you anything he wanted, the urge to treat you like you deserved to be treated. He could see it in your eyes how much you longed for him, but he was hoping it was just him being delusional. He was wrong, unfortunately.
He had to pull back away from you, immediately recognizing what he was doing. He never thought it’d hurt as much as it did when he told you he was only looking for good time. Toji couldn’t tell the difference between love and lust. That was his problem. But why doesn’t he get that same adrenaline rush when he gets the woman he was eyeing at the bar all night? He has no problem getting in a girls pants, but all these woman end up turning out the same. He gets so drunk he blacks out and completely loses the feeling. He tries to ignore the voices in his head, the ones telling him that he’s searching for you in every girl he brings back in his bed. Why was he so different with you? Why could he always relish in the feeling you gave him after he came down from his high? He hates it.
He never had to get drunk to be with you. Each time you were around him he was sober, not an ounce of alcohol flowing through his body. All you had to do was be around him to give him that same feeling he gets when drunk. He can’t describe it. He describe you. For all he knows, you’ve most likely forgotten about him. It was for the best though. Most likely he’d break your heart either way. You were young lively girl who had her whole life ahead of her. You were only slowing yourself down getting caught up with him. But when he saw you, he couldn’t help but fall for that pretty smiling and those dazzling eyes. Even when you were having bad at work, he remembers the way your face would light when he’d walk in, immediately telling him about all the shitty customers you’ve had. You two clicked immediately. He was intrigued when you’d flirt back with him, chuckling at your little flirty remarks.
Why can’t he get you off his mind? Toji groaned, clenching his eyes shut as he falls back onto his bed. The show he was watching falls upon deaf ears as he stared up at the ceiling. If he does go out tonight, what were the chances he’d bring another stranger home? He already knew the answer, but deep down he wanted to test himself. So, that’s what he decided to do. It was his life regardless and it was another way to distract himself of you.
he’s so sweet about it too, despite rearranging your guts. he even promises to buy a new one.
doesn’t mean to of course, it’s accidental. sometimes nanami can get a bit too rough sometimes, a good firm grip on your hair, yanking it with just enough force while presenting you spank after spank against your ass.
“jus’ like that, princess,”
he groans, his hips were just nasty…
thwacking and smacking against you it made your ears rings — beads of sweat ran down the side of your forehead as you bite down on you lip, tediously feeling your legs just quiver and jolt with his fit body bodying yours. rocking and rocking.
“always know how to take me. such a good girl.”
snap
“…w-what happened? kento?”
you moaned, you get a cool rush of shivers race down your spine from the way nanami playfully skims his fingertips down your back. the sweet scent — aroma of you and him, pressed against each other was bittersweet.
nanami slows down a bit, but he doesn’t stop completely. his hips shudder mid thrust and you bite your lip, he’s rolling himself against you and it’s just mouth watering.
his strokes was just pure bliss. appetizing in all the best ways.
the headboard was just about to fall on top of you but he catches it — his muscles flex, although you can’t see, you’d bet he’s got a grin on his face. “nothin', nothin'. jus' sit pretty 'n keep facing this way, sweetheart.” and you’d gasp from the off guard ass smack before he rubs it, you hiss from the sting.
the curve of nanami’s dick reaches deep in places you never imagined could be touched — his girth, it’s got you clenching nonexistent pearls.
the headboard was split in two but he didn’t care, all he cared about was making sure your pussy knew who it belonged to.
“o-okay…”
you whined, just being shoved and rammed against the fat pillows.
even if he was rough with you, he’d never forget to shower you with multiple praises. making sure it never leaves one ear and out the other with you. nanami was a gentleman.
he’d make you feel like a slut with his dick but treat you like a queen with his praise game. “f-fuck.. arch more for me baby, want you to feel everythin'.”
FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI.
always pushing the agenda that toji fucks mean.
he likes to fuck in a certain position, specifically doggystyle sure — but even better when his foot presses against the back of your head. he only saves this for when you’re being a brat, which is often … 90% of the time.
“girl if ya don’t stop fuckin' runnin'. been beggin' for dick all day 'n this is the thanks i get.”
he’d snarl. his angle was so deep, thick cock pumping in and out of your pussy. your head’s being smushed against the padded cushioned mattress at feeling the soft fabric of toji’s sock press against the back of your neck.
you let off a whine, feeling that feeling brew up inside of your deepest parts…
“t-toji, ‘m gonna cum.” you’d moan, not even recognizing your own pathetic shaky voice.
it’s dumb, you're choking on your own saliva.
he’s rocking his hips against you, you’re bawling the bedsheets into your hands before a rupturing crackle sound disrupts the mood.
“fuck,” toji grunts — pausing just briefly, the bed ends up pressing down from the weight, the frame ends up becoming unstable and collapses.
he’s still got a yanking tug on your hair, balls deep. you raise your head to see what happened but he just shoves you back down.
“stop bein' nosy. yeah yeah the bed broke but y’er greedy ass pussy still needs attention.”
he’s still drilling into you again..
your cunt clamps against him, and you dig your teeth into the fat parts of the white thick mattress.
he’s just so mean with his hits, he makes sure you feel everything, you’re dramatically moaning into the bed — jerking and jerking against him as his fat tip rests inside you. stirring up your insides everywhere to where your eyes roll back.
time and time again, you’re speechless… mouth agape and eyes just buck open.
toji’s got such a angle, the back of his foot just driving against the back of your head.
he grumbled out swear words about how sloppy your pussy was for him — swiping a tongue across his lip, across that damn scar.
“…y’er buying the new bed by the way. ain’t got enough money for that shit. but i bet you do, sweetheart.” and he spanks your ass before you could reply. “yeah, what i thought.”
SUKUNA ☆ RYOMEN.
isn’t even phased at hearing the sudden abrupt sound of the headboard shattering into two pieces — plummeting into the ground.
sukuna doesn’t bat a eye, he’s so into you it, pinning both of your arms behind your back as he’s ramming, bullying his fat dick between your walls.
“look what ya made me do, princess,” he huffs out, bringing an arm to his forehead, discarding the ran down sweat-beads racing down the sides of his arched eyebrows.
he leans up close, making sure your ass remembers every inch of his. wrapping a hand around your throat, his long nails softly tickle against the middle part of your neck. he licks the side of your ear and you whimper out in ecstasy.
“this pussy’s so unstable, made the bed break. shame shame..”
“but r-ryo,” you’d moan out, and he’s hitting you so good, your back does that infamous arch that always gets him hard. he hits his fangs into his lip watching you lose yourself — staring at the filthy recoil of your ass from each singular thrust. “right there p-pleas—”
“oi. don’t tell me how to fuck, little girl.”
he yaps, rutting himself against you, and he was buried balls deep to the damn hilt.
his fat base continued to thwack against your very core and you’re trembling underneath him. as soon as he reaches that spot with his dick, you’re seeing straight white. his hits scratches that itch, you’re drooling all on the sheets like the dirty girl you were.
his smacks he presents against your ass rings throughout your ears, so loud it’s just reverberating.
“…pleasepleaseplease,” you pleaded - he raised his leg up for a through angle, and at this point he’s just fucking you stupid. eyes crossing absurdly — he’s still got your wrists tied with his own grip of it.
you’re chasing your breath and his cock is so heavy it’s got your legs just shaking in horror. you could barely keep up with his pace and his stamina was just godly.
“beg some more for me. make me believe it,” he rasps. a wicked smile pursing onto his lips, and he flips you over only to smack his tip against your pussy, his angry tip mashing against your folds and he sucks his teeth as he watches you stare at him. awaiting. “go on. talk to me nice or i ain’t finishing.”
GOJO ☆ SATORU.
breaks the bed on purpose.
the material was pretty cheap anyway — but the frame was barely sturdy. gojo usually fucks you in doggy but this time, he’s got you laid flat on your back. knees shoved up towards your chest.
“s-soo good for me, babe,” he’d grunt, feeling a cool shiver run down his spine, he’s stuffing you full of lengthy extensive inches. “damn it.”
his girth, stretches you out ten times more. it’s got your legs twitching and bouncing back against your skin. gojo’s moaning just as loud as you, he can’t help but to be vocal.
you milk him every single time and he grows addicted to watching his own cum spill out of your pussy, only to pout at it ‘going to waste’ in his terms.
“soak it up f'me…” he’d whine, plugging his thick cock back inside after pulling out to watch the mess come out slowly in spurts.
you hear him swallow, not pausing his movements for a split second before that’s when you hear a shrieking splitting sound of the headboard breaking, crashing down and you flinch.
“did you just break the bed?” you gasped, your legs were as good as numb — he gives you a look that basically says, and…?
gojo leans up against you, sneaking a kiss near the side of your mouth before pushing yours up against your chest just a bit more.
“pft what..? oh, nevermind that, baby…”
he pants, and he gives you that look. he’s huffing and puffing, muscles that glistened with sweat were flexing throughout each second.
his biceps that were beside your body tensed, and even his breathing is attractive. his smell…minty and loud cologne. you moaned, he’s still got his dick concealed inside of you, you’re so full you can barely think let alone comprehend anything.
your shaky hands make its way onto gojo’s beefy arms and he grins, leaning into to kiss the top of your forehead before starting up his salaciously lustful pace — your jaw is just dumbly hanging open, repeating his name again and again and he chuckles. “hold on to me, yeah? bed’s broken so might as well go all out..”
SUGURU ☆ GETO.
with geto, it just sort of … happens.
he’s more playful with you in bed. a rough hand of his attached to the back of your neck.
such sultry skin slaps ring across the room and geto’s just so thick, you mouth starts to water as he continues to piston his mean hips against you.
“take it, take it baby. fuckin' take it. c'mon, ‘s good. want you to have all of me.” he grunts.
his tip reaches deep and your brain is fried, spasming with much needed craze.
he’s go such a deep angle and the arch your back gives him makes him show a faint toothy grin.
you let out a surprised squeak once he spanks you but seconds later — the bed frame ends up collapsing, a loud creaaaaak noise. the supports hung near the back ends up breaking and the both of you end of flinching before geto chuckles.
“oopsie daisy.” he murmurs, grabbing ahold of your waist.
pulling you more closer towards him and you moaned. he leans forward, and your back arched downward — you whimper at him starting to rub against your clit.
“hey hey,” he coos, the angle he’s giving to you has you nearly losing composure, “..don’t get distracted, i can always buy a new one, princess.”
“s-suguru,-‘m gonna-cum-againnn,” you’d spit out.
your voice was whiney and all. his dick stretched out deep inside to where the angled hits he was giving you hit you right where it needed. your mouth opened and you sobbed out a, “oh my g-god,” whilst he’s still rubbing circles against your pussy — got you bent over him like some slut.
“shhh, no more talkin' angel. i want you to hear how sloppy your pussy is for me.”
your legs feel like jello — just shaky and shaky, he spanks your ass a few times before he maneuvers mean circles against your throbbing pussy that’s nearly reaching its peak.
“ya gotta listen to it baby,” he whispers, using his entire wrist to rub against between your legs mid-fucking — you’re biting your lip, nearly about to burst and his low raspy laugh makes pulsate embarrassingly.
“mhm. it’s okay, i know,” he coos before playfully tugging your hair back, leaning to lick a long stripe down your spine. “jus’ so damn wet for me. poor baby. my sloppy, messy girl.”
CHOSO ☆ KAMO.
is really apologetic once he ends up breaking the bed. even though you’ve been purposely teasing him to be more rough with you during intimacy.
“are- are you sure? i don’t wanna hurt you, princess,”
and his shaky hands hold against your waist. you’re propped up on all fours, awaiting for him to finish and his tone is so cute.
he’s timid…teasing you a bit by rubbing his tip against your achy pussy. dragging out a whimper from you before you nodded, desperately wanting him back inside. “y-yeah choso, it’s okay you can be rough. i can handle it.”
once choso’s rough — he’s rough…he’s got your pillow placed underneath your hips so he can slam you back against him.
his dick is so lengthy you can feel that delicious curve expand throughout yours walls so much that you’re just dizzy.
your knees pierce into the mattress and you’re moaning, hearing choso’s whimpered moans too makes you throb before he lets off a shaky breath, making you shift your ass up for him a bit.
“baby, y-you keep pushin' yourself against me. ‘s so hot.”
his grip is so degrading.
his dick was so hard it made him whine, you made him hard. this entire position had his head spinning.
the way you’re just lazily bent over for him. he licks his lips, deepening the angle while moving his leg a certain way and you’re practically being plowed into the mattress.
yet as he’s driving such force into you, the headboard cracks, it’s a loud shrilling sound and right when you were about to get off — it splits in two and choso’s eyes widens. “was it too much? ‘m sorry my lo—”
“don’t stop choso, please.” you begged, your cunt clenched for more. you could taste your incoming orgasm. legs were spread for him and the side of your head was nearly shoved against the sheets. “m-make me cum pleaseplease…‘s okay.”
“if you say so,” he whines, gliding his fingers down your back before picking up his pace again, and you’re so stupid — his hits had you sputtering out nonsense.
“s-shit princess, ‘m gonna cum if you keep hittin' back against me,” he sobs before grabbing a fistful of your hair, you gasp at how he’s just plainly fucking you stupid before spanking your ass only to caress it so you can feel the sting, “…drive me crazy, woman. 'm s-so in love with you.”
how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans
ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊
❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜
geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.
warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+
wc. 2.5k
an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.
★ NANAMI KENTO.
“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.
a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”
and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself.
“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”
you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises.
“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”
“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other.
he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”
“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together.
“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest.
you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid.
“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.
“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. “i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”
once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.
not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.
“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”
★ GOJO SATORU.
the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness.
“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”
and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.
gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you.
“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth.
“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady.
his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”
his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.
“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.
it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.
he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”
and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.
“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”
“promise?” you mumbled.
his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.
he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”
★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.
riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….
dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”
his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.
he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.
“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.
you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.
“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”
“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”
“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”
he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….
it was sloppy.
squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”
“f-finish, ‘kuna..”
“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”
★ GETO SUGURU.
he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.
a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.
you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.
“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.
geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.
he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”
“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.
“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.
you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.
tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.
“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so…let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”
“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.
he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.
he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.
geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.
“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”
★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.
toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.
“hmph.”
“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.
toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.
a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.
“t-tojiiii..”
“w-whattt..”
he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”
your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”
“say please.”
you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”
“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”
“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”
“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.
you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”
COMPARABLE FANTASIES: toji x f! reader | in which, being struck with irreversible tragedies, all toji wanted to do was prove he could still make you feel good, even with new attachments or not…
CONTENT –> MDNI | ns fw + pwp | slight jjk spoilers, side by side lazy morning sex turned lovey feral, fingering, breeding, cock warming, creampies, squirting, cum and cum.
TOJI'S TONGUE PLAYS AT the shell of your ear; slipping in to whisper, "You feel.. full" Nuzzling down, you ache into his touch. Feening at cold metal dipping between bodies. Toji trails along your tummy to mush at the small bump of devotion pooled stickily in your womb...
His scar curls with his lips, smirking as he kept his softening cock buried in your walls.
Groaning and twisting at the warm fill, yet the foreign object floating at your skin, it was crushing to see the man you love once kiss death and now filled in with a new century of technology... but, how he handled it was, manly... tantalizingly fun, filthy.
Cold - freezing. More of... the sudden touch of his new arm felt like melting ice; slipping between shaken legs. Toji draws out a mewl from you as he circled at the puckered hood of your clit.
“Cold? Heh..” His words trail off into a husky groan, almost mocking at your worn shivers. Spent and warmly settled to spooning you as his cock rested a slow rhythm before popping out. Unplugged… A filthy warm, white mess follows – dripping a soiled puddle into silk sheets.
Toji knew it made you squirm, knowing the truth, it was new and something to get used to. No different, he spreads slippery folds wide, forcing them to hug two silvery fingers and cling tight as he pummeled cum back into your fluttering cunt. Stuffing you full and marveling in the taunt texture - the entire way through, Toji can still curl long digits at your softest spots.
Eyes fluttering back, Toji pecks along your jaw,
"See, 's still makes you feel good.." Lewdly locking lips, you squeeze at his forearm; the mass once strong muscle, scarred and expanse, now smooth, dull - and uncanny... but the sensible warmness growing to your tone left an ache.
Incredulously prodding away, he digs eager fingers into your cum-swollen cunt - and one moment they weren't, the next, they were pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, running circles. Your thoughts too, running mindlessly, hearing the squelching batter of juices and tainted shame.
"You're making me hard again, baby... maken' those pretty moans in my ear." You curl into his chest, sobbing out moans as his fingers pressed down and worked into your slit. Hard and smooth, he dug them into the pliant, slick heat of your pussy, squishing at walls and kneading them around working digits.
You mewl, "Oh!-" Whimpering into submission, Toji popped the metal tools out, yet kept a steady rhythm at your puffy hood, and probed his bulbous cockhead - hitting into you in no time at all. Full chastity, his cock swole and throbbing again, Toji sets a rhythm. Strong and paced, and keeping firm at your clit; rolling and pinching when warm walls squeeze at his base.
Toji holds you close as you sink into fervent putty; his arms so strong, one just as the other, keeping you warm and close... Your stomach is coiling and your jaw hangs, "My pretty girl likes being stuffed? You like looking like a mess? Huh?" His free hand tucks under your neck, bullying eye contact from you.
You shakily nod.
"Nothing can stop me from making you feel good baby?" He would be foaming at the mouth if possible; gasping at the deep-set of jungle eyes hooded, almost hunting for you through lids,
"Don't ever doubt me, sweetheart..." Panting with pearls of sweat mixing in, as both of you in sync like beasts - tongues even lapping sloppily at each other.
His life seemed to hold that fine line. It terrified you, every day because it could be any day... only the potency of resilience proved odds... and oddly, it was attractive how much he held that.
He fucked you good and well, always horny and hungry. Never knowing if it could be the last to make you scream over his name ‘til you couldn't.
… The day he faced eternal gloaming and luckily found an escape through it, he stuffed you long and hard - ‘til you were packed like a snow cone...
Toji buried himself deep while his swollen crown pushed hard against the breaking walls you lose control of - shivering in a pulsing high. Licking up your throat, a wet and sloppy tongue cursing,
"Can you even handle another?" He was mocking you and at your weakness, watching through droopy eyes how you shook into a mess at such little, yet so much...
Watching how he fucks you into a mess and keeping metallic fingers pinched at your clit, you arched a perfect bow into the sheets; cumming a fountain and creaming a translucent ring at his base, his balls rise in a manner you adored in response. In a battering of his hips, solid nth-inch cock meat swelled with oozing cum. Heavy holders, no less than before, and just as messy, empties every last drop into you.
…
Barely room, ropes of hot seed decorate the soft mounds of your ass. Almost bursting; his cock pops out still jutting in cloud nine as your womb was drowning in delight and with cum still struggling to find space... your chest heaves and his follows.
"Ah-... Y/n..." Catching a rare breath, the same raunchy arm puckers up to your face and drags your chin back to his. Showing no difference - just clanking bits and cold metal, he pulls and breathes at your bottom, quivering lip,
word count: 420 (blazeitlolhaahahaimsofunny) | ✪ content warnings: squirting, a slap to the ass, toji’s bout to suffocate under you, sixnine but not the rapper, he’s a munch, uhhhh nasty sex i wrote at 6 am
toji x reader
✭ toji “bounce that ass on my face” fushiguro
he’s giving you the meanest head of your life halfway down your shared bed. you’re supposed to be six-nining but it’s more he’s spitting on it, slurping it back up and then using the lubrication to swirl your clit around before sucking on it while you struggle to keep stroking his dick smoothly rather than in jerks due to the pleasure.
he alternates between grabbing your ass, hips and thighs to keep you still and you can hear nothing but the sloshing of his mouth and your pussy, and your unified moans.
“bounce that ass on my face, c’mon” you can tell he’s taking in air as he says it, breathing so heavy you move up and down with his chest, “twerk on me, princess.”
he punctuates it with a harsh slap to your right cheek that makes you jerk a little.
your head is spinning and it takes you a second to compute his demand, but you comply as you lay your head down between his groin and upper thigh to take his dick into your mouth. the fat of your ass ripples and you put all your weight into him —knowing that’s the way he likes it and you’d have hell to pay if you did anything different— and you swear you can hear a muffled ‘jesus fuck.’
all your mental energy is put into the up and down motion of your hips and head, trying to focus on the feeling of the skin and veins of his cock across your lips rather than the burning urge to cum all over his face to maybe, just maybe, last a little bit longer.
but toji’s never had an issue getting you to come before.
you pop off his dick, breathless, pumping him instead.
“fuck- toji ‘m.. ‘m boutta cum….” the overstimulation is creeping up on you and your hip movements become jerky until they come to a stop, instead opting to try to push your cunt into his face to chase the pleasure.
“do it.” he replies- simple, short and gruff.
toji gets the hint, moving his hands to grab your hips before he starts tongue fucking you.
he’s fast, in out in out.
the way you can hear juices gushing out of you with every in and out motion of his tongue is nasty. what’s disgusting, though, is the fact his cum is spilling out into your hands at the sensation of you squirting on his face.
When you ride Gojo, he can’t stay still. You just look so cute when you’re on top of him, lips parted and breaths coming fast and choppy. He loves the squeeze of your walls, but he needs more. Needs to feel you quicker and harder, so he holds your hips steady and fucks up into you, pistoning his cock into you until your pretty eyes are filled up with tears and you’re crying out. He cums with you just like that, legs shaking as he fills you up with his cum, revelling in the wonderful feeling of your hot cunt around him.
When you ride Geto, he stays as still as possible. He is leisurely watching you, smirk never leaving his face as he watches you struggle to angle your hips just right so that the head of his cock hits your sweet spot. You can’t seem to manage it, making you whine and beg for him to help. He goads you, teases you, about how helpless you are and how bad you need him in order to feel good. Only when your cheeks are wet with your frustrated tears does he flip you over, pounding into you hard and fast until your legs are seizing and your pussy is pulling ropes of his cum out of his dick, groaning into the nape of your neck as he releases inside you.
★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).
★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.
★ a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (btw if u like tokyo rev go check out my other shit teehee).
★ w.c.; 4.5k
best friend's brother ; chapter index
YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn’t been close for a good portion of it. You didn’t remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since.
There was one thing about the pinkette’s home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye.
His older brother, Choso.
He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.
He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character.
The first time you’d ever met him had been at one of Itadori’s baseball games. He’d invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did.
You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.
And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that’s not the point here. You’d gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he’d done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.
A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.
It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.
“This your girlfriend, Yuuji?” He commented with a half-grin.
You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.
So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend’s older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless.
At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.
He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless.
He was becoming a man.
You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother’s room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.
It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.
You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn’t know that it wasn’t his brother you wanted.
14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt.
He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5’10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji’s open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.
Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren’t too certain what ‘doing’ even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.
He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn’t quite understand. It was just a crush… so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.
A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.
He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he’d noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.
“You don’t have to be all flustered ‘round me, y’know,” He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. “You can ask me anything you’re curious about.”
“I’m not curious!” You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t want to know about your sex life, you whore.”
“You just asked me what it felt like, liar,” He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. “And for the record, I’m not a whore. Most of the times I’ve been touched have been with my own hand.”
“I’ve never tried… that, ” You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission.
He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. “What, masturbating?”
Your heart did a weak somersault. “Quiet!” You hissed at him. “Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?”
“Calm your shit,” he told you. “You’re too young f’me. Relax.”
He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn’t voice it. You were glad.
But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn’t have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm.
In his eyes, you were only a kid.
“I’m a virgin,” you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn’t quite understand.
The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later.
“I can tell,” He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.
16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, “‘S fun. You should try it.”
You didn’t know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.
Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.
Two years had never felt so far apart.
Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he’d come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.
You knew he was too old for you, that you weren’t old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.
You didn’t tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man.
You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.
Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker.
For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji’s, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how “we’re home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out”.
Your heart broke, too. He just didn’t know it.
He didn’t know you were waiting for him to come to his senses, for him to see you as a woman .
You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the ‘After-Hours’ talks, as you would often refer to them.
Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori’s brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.
Still, even though you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her, you didn’t say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.
Itadori’s laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, “Hey, bro. Who’s she?”
Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, “Company.”
His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.
You felt frozen in place. You couldn’t move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs.
Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year.
He was out of your league.
Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.
Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso’s room.
You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses.
“Choso, baby.”
Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.
“I’m ready.”
“You brought protection?”
Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.
It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn’t even know how to approach him after this.
Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.
With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.
It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn’t seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.
But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker?
Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck.
And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks.
It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.
No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I’m too young for him.
You were just a girl in his eyes. That’s what you maintained.
So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren’t him.
Take that, Choso.
Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.
God picked favorites, and it wasn’t you.
There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side.
“I’m over this chemistry shit,” He sighed.
You couldn’t possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.
You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. “We’re gonna need more supplies.”
"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I’m pretty sure we’ve purchased, like… every craft supply on the market."
You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors…?"
Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don’t have those."
"Of course you don’t," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn’t have scissors?"
"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.
Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.
Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to you."
You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.
"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "
Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I’ll be back."
Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.
He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.
He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.
With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, “What’s up?”
Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south .
“Do… Do you have scissors?” You asked him. You didn’t like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.
He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird’s eye view of your cleavage.
He’s looking at me.
“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso’s quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn’t home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.
You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.
You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger.
“Here,” was all he said, offering the tool to you.
You didn’t know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.
You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. “Thanks.”
16 and 18, now.
You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn’t doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.
That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori.
You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn’t even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.
Alone.
The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.
Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.
When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.
Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.
He licked his lips, murmuring, “You’re probably right.”
Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.
Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .
The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances.
You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform.
You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around.
Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.
You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.
Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door.
He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.
It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.
“Missed you,” he hummed against your lips.
You didn’t even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.
You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. “I should really get back soon,” You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.
He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.
“Didn’t mean to keep ‘ya,” he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. “Get back out there.”
You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn’t even care how disheveled you looked.
Thankfully, Yuuji didn’t notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn’t notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.
You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.
There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room.
You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.
He didn’t voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.
You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.
You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you.
He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed at the proximity.
Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.
Somewhere along the way, though it’s all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.
He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.
You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn’t see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs.
19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, “Can I touch you?”
Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.
“What if they see us?” You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.
His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. “You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you?”
The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.
Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn’t notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers.
He didn’t notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.
Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.
It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.
I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,
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꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : tantalizing : tormenting or teasing with the sight or promise of something unobtainable. aka playing with choso has always been your forte, but what happens when you discover he has a few tricks up his sleeve?
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. degradation, edging, use of sex toys, begging, choso is a perv & a lil scummy (ooc?), use of the term “slut”, slight praise (use of good boy), cum eating, minimal prep, unprotected sex, borderline hate sex, creampie — WC : 2.4k
“you’re such a disgusting little perv. you knew i was coming over and you just couldn’t resist, could you?” you ask, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock. choso almost whimpers at the touch and you couldn’t help but smirk. “you want me to help you out or something? is that what this is?”
the two of you had agreed to meet up today to work on the group project for your class. you figured it would be best to join up with the quiet nerd in your class, but you weren’t expecting to walk in on him with his back flush against his headboard, head tossed back as he was using a fleshlight against his surprisingly pretty cock.
“n-no! i thought i would have more time — aah!” he chokes out, jerking into your hand as you run a finger along his oozing tip, slowly smearing his pre-cum around it. “i just — mmf — lost track of time.”
“you’re lucky you’re so cute.” you start to move your hand more, palms pressed against his hot skin. it was just enough for it to feel good, but not enough to send him over the edge. “aw, you’re blushing. don’t tell me…”
“what?” he gasps, trying to gain more friction.
“are you a virgin, choso?” you stop moving your hand, eyes trailing over to where his discarded fleshlight was laying on the bed.
the room was silent for a moment, choso’s heavy breathing filling the space. he felt the weight of your hand disappear, replaced by a sickeningly sweet release crackling under the surface, trapped under your mercy. he knew you wouldn’t continue unless he spoke up.
“yes.” he says hesitantly, watching your eyes light up in delight.
“i knew it.” you smiled, smugness taking over your features. your lips meet, a breathy moan escaping him as your tongue slips into his mouth.
it quickly turns into a messy kiss, saliva pooling in his mouth as his tongue swirls with yours. but he couldn’t help but feel so needy for you, your eager hands roaming all over his body as he claims your mouth. you pull apart all too soon, disappointment invading his senses as your warm touch leaves him. but it quickly melts away, watching you in wonder as you start to undress before his very eyes.
you start with your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side. he reached out to help but you swat his hand away. instead, you give him a show as you shimmy out of your pants, leaving your bottom bare. with quick, practiced fingers, you take off your lacy bra, the cold air brushing against your nipples.
“no touching.” you purr, crawling on the bed towards choso. his mouth goes dry, words escaping him as he takes in how beautiful you are. he wants to disobey, to reach out and touch you but he doesn’t want to break this illusion. the last thing he wants you to do is leave him in this state, a fire burning so vigorously in his gut that only you can douse.
you sit in his lap, his body jolting as your exposed cunt kisses his cock. he can feel your essence start to coat him as you start to move your hips, not yet giving into what he truly desires.
“you’re so mean to me.” he whines out, writhing below you. all you do in response is glide your cunt against his twitching cock. at this point, it was absolutely drenched in your slick, making it easy to rock against him — but never letting him in. “please baby.”
“not yet.” you smile not so sweetly. honestly, what else could he really expect from you? the one that’s been torturing him for as long as he can remember. catching him off guard while you walk down the hallways, showing off your short, cute little skirts. close enough to see but never close enough to touch. “good boys know how to wait.”
“but-” he whines, pleading with you. you almost want to give in, but another idea slips into your mind and takes hold.
“tell me, when you were using your fleshlight, were you thinking of me?” you ask, your voice lacing with an innocence he should know better than to trust.
“y-yes! always you-”he ruts up into you, trying to gain some friction. you let him get away with it for now.
“let me see.” the sweetness in your voice evaporated, leaving a simple command in its place.
“what?” he looked at you, confusion swimming in his eyes. the look on your face told him that you weren’t joking. he watches in inquisitive horror as your other hand picks up his toy.
“i said,” you ease off his lap a little bit, ignoring the way he reaches for you. “let. me. see.”
“alright,” he swallows thickly, nodding along as he takes the toy from your hand and lines it up to his cock. he’s about to start using it before your hand meets his. he looks up at you, watching your eyes darken with twisted hunger. it makes his cock twitch, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“so needy, aren’t you?” you slide the fleshlight agonizing slowly over his angry, inflamed cock. he hisses as you take your time, holding his gaze to see if he’ll challenge you. and of course he won’t. “such a cute little virgin.”
feeling you so close to him, your breath fanning across his face has his hips rutting up into the toy. you tsk softly, displeased that he went at his own pace. but you showed him mercy anyway, starting to pump the fleshlight over him.
“shit-“ he moaned, tossing his head back against the headboard. his chest heaved, warmth swirling in his gut. he needed more but instead he just dug his fingers into the sheets and let you take the reins.
“feel good?” you ask sweetly and all he can do is nod enthusiastically as you pick up the pace. “use your words.”
“feels so good,” he gasps, finally looking back at you through half lidded eyes. “please, please, please fuck me.”
“not yet.” you move faster, getting closer to him so you can kiss his neck. the feeling of your soft lips trailing over his skin sends his mind reeling, a dusty haze settling over everything as he loses himself to pleasure. “need you to come for me first, you know you want to. you’ve been doing so well, holding back for me. just a little more and i’ll give you what you need.”
the room is filled with the squelch of his cock driving in and out of the toy. its filthy, the way he pants, sweat gathering under his fringe. he should be embarrassed but instead his hips stutter as he lets out a choked whine.
“gonna cum-“ he can’t help as he thrusts into the toy, yearning hungrily for his high. and luckily, you let him. there was a moment you thought about pulling the toy off of him, leaving him to come untouched, but maybe that was best saved for another time.
his features just looked so pretty, face scrunching up in otherworldly pleasure, his neck and chest flushed with the prettiest shade of pink.
with a strangled moan of your name, he cums in the fleshlight, holding your hand down further onto it so he shove himself as deep as possible.
“good boy,” you praise, taking the toy off of him. you study it for a second, swiping your fingers to collect some of the milky substance before holding it up to his face expectantly. he raises an eyebrow at you. “what? you can’t expect someone else to ever swallow your shit if you don’t try it yourself. go on now.”
his eyes narrow at you as he leans forward, taking your fingers in his mouth as he swallows his own cum. it earns him a hum of approval from you. after all of the humiliation he’s suffered so far under your touch, it makes it almost worth it.
tossing the fleshlight to the side, you straddle his lap again, rubbing your soaked folds over his semi hard cock. it didn’t take long for him to harden again. he grips your hips with an iron hold, desperately trying to rut up against you.
“you ready, choso?” you purr in his ear, lining up his cock to your entrance, wiggling your hips a little so he can feel how wet you are for him.
“please.” he breathes. choso’s head spun as you swallowed up his cock, watching it slowly disappear.
he whimpers as he slowly sinks into you, toes already curling from the way your tight cunt envelops his cock. all he could see was your smug smile before his pretty eyes rolled to the back of his head.
“so tight, fuck, so soft-“ he all but whines into your shoulder as he bottoms out.
“better than your little fleshlight?” you smirk, teasingly rocking your hips back and forth.
choso didn’t know what happened, but something in him finally snapped when you mocked him this time. he moves around, pushing you onto your back before plunging back into you. he lets out a hiss, hips stuttering as he takes in your shock expression.
“you know, you talk a lot of shit for someone in your position.” he doesn’t move, trying to keep himself together. the last thing he needed to do was blow his load already.
“in my position?” you breathe out, trying to keep the edge to your voice. but it’s melting away, he can feel the way your cunt clenches around him, pulsing with interest as he starts to take control.
he’s had enough of your constant little quips at him, always making comments under your breath whenever he walked into the classroom, sitting in his seat that was directly in front of yours. he put up with so much from you, and it was time for a little payback.
“yeah, sprawled out under me like the slut you are.” he starts to move his hips. “it was almost too easy. all i had to do was act a little pathetic around you and you fell right into my hands.”
“you-“ you gasp as the head of his cock kissed your cervix. it was almost amusing seeing you struggle to find the words to bite back at him. “you are pathetic though.”
“and what does that say about you then, huh?” he lets out a harsh scoff, thrusting quicker and chasing his high. “makes you seem more pathetic in my eyes.”
“‘m not!” you whine, gripping onto the sheets as he drives you into the mattress.
“compelling argument.” he pulls out, savoring the sweet whimper you let out at the loss. he quickly flips you over, sliding back into you as he pulls you up so you’re on all fours.
“y-you-” you start, words escaping you as you try to hold onto the headboard for balance. everything you wanted to say vanished on the tip of your tongue, the way he was fucking you was too good, taking all of your thoughts with you. it all happened so fast you didn’t have time to think about how precise his moves were, how he knew exactly where to thrust to hit that gooey spot deep within you.
“what was that?” he lets out a breathless laugh at how well you squeeze his cock. he pushes your head down onto the mattress, your cheek pressing against the dark sheets. the power you were giving him was addictive, something he never knew he wanted. “cant hear you.”
“since when the hell do you talk so much.” you bark at him. he had always been quiet in class, reserved. the perfect target for you to pick on. never in a million years did you imagine this.
“i guess you just bring it out of me.” his fingers tighten against your hips, using it as leverage to fuck you harder into the bed. his hair curls around his neck, fallen out from the buns he previously had it in.
“lucky me.” you spit out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every thrust he delivers. watching you turn into a bumbling mess pushed choso closer to the edge, but he needed you to finish first.
he almost doesn’t bother helping you reach yours, but with the way your sweet cries of his name filled his ears, it had him second guessing himself. he wanted to feel your cunt flutter around his cock like the good little slut you are.
“yeah lucky you.” he pulls you up so your back is flush against his chest as he continues to fuck you. “wanna know what the best part is about all of this?”
“what?” you practically whine out at the new position, trying your best to match his pace.
“i lied.” he taunts in your ear, nipping at it. he feels your pace stutter at his confession before picking back up. “i wasn’t a virgin.”
almost to prove his point, he reaches around and effortlessly finds your clit, his fingers deftly playing with the nub. you cry out, cunt squeezing against his cock as you finish around him, calling out his name.
he’s not far behind you, pushing you back down onto the bed and grabbing a hold of your hips, plowing into you for his release. with the way you were still milking him, he gives into the feeling, moaning out as he pushes himself all the way in you and fucking his cum deeper into you with shallow thrusts.
he topples over you, trying to catch his breath as he can hear you doing the same. everything in his mind is a haze right now until he feels you shift.
you squirm out from under him and immediately start picking up your clothes, accidentally knocking the used fleshlight onto the ground. in a haste, you start dressing as choso watches.
“what? don’t wanna stay and cuddle?” he gives you a pleased little smirk, watching as your thighs still shake.
“this isn’t over.” you snap at him. he almost admires how stubborn you are, how competitive you can be. your little game of cat and mouse had officially started, and he was excited to see what was next.
“that a promise?” he tilts his head a little, bangs falling in his face, sticking to his forehead.
“it’s a threat.” you finish dressing, crossing your arms with a slight pout. but he knew you’d be back.
“sure it is. we still have to finish our project so,” he pauses, getting up and walking in front of you, wiping away a bead of sweat that trickled down your face. “same time tomorrow?”
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | thank you @keiskyutie for helping me get a characterization on Choso!
☰ Toji:
ꕤ His kisses are rarely sweet, usually hot and rough
ꕤ Toji prefers to have you straddle him or to have you in a position where he has the full control over your body
ꕤ big hands gripping onto your waist to keep you grounded against his lap while his lips hungrily kiss yours
ꕤ His lips aren't soft, almost chapped and you can feel the scar on the corner of his mouth which made you gasp softly the first time you kissed him
ꕤ He likes how responsive you are, teasing you by gently biting your lower lip or by slipping his tongue into your mouth unasked
ꕤ no matter if you're on top or pressed against a wall, he has the full control over your kiss, pressing your body against his when you straddle him or his body against yours when he's pushing you against a wall
ꕤ His tongue is forceful, swaying around yours in ways that make your head spin and all you could think of was him. Him.
ꕤ Toji takes up all your senses and slowly drives you insane with his rough kisses, manhandling you in ways he craves you
ꕤ He groans into the kiss when you grind against his hips only to grab you by the back of your neck to deepen the kiss further
ꕤ Make out sessions like these leave you breathless, your hands in his hair, his around the back of your neck and on your hip
ꕤ the moment you two part there's a little string of saliva connecting your lips and a fire of lust burning in his eyes… I hope you know what you got yourself into
☰ Choso:
ꕤ Choso’s kisses start off timid and soft but turn desperate and a little rough
ꕤ His lips always feel a little cold and he's almost too shy to kiss you, starting with little pecks to your cheek and neck as if he's testing the waters
ꕤ you need to initiate the actual kiss, your lips finally Meeting his and you can hear a satisfied sigh come from him, letting you know that this is exactly what he hoped for
ꕤ His hands are cupping your cheeks in an instant, almost holding you too tight but he felt like he needed you like his lungs needed oxygen
ꕤ the longer the kiss goes on, the more desperate and confident he feels because you make him feel so wanted
ꕤ his strong hands slowly move down to your hips so he can pull you closer against his well built frame, one arm around your waist while the other wanders over your body
ꕤ His tongue finds its way past your lips, eagerly fighting yours for dominance and you can hear how into it he is, little grunts and groans coming from the man
ꕤ Choso loses track of time and space when his lightly chapped lips are locked with yours like this, not wanting this moment to ever end
ꕤ He prefers for you to be on top of him but when he gets lost in the passion he will flip you around so he's on top, the feeling of having you beneath him making him feel so ethereal
ꕤ Doesn't notice how his hands slide under your shirt but always stop caressing you right below your chest, holding onto your sides, grabbing desperately at the skin when your tongue brushes against his
ꕤ if you want more you just need to give him the green light, he wants you since his lips touched yours for the first time
☰ Geto:
ꕤ Geto’s kisses are sweet and gentle, almost too soft
ꕤ The first time he kissed you, his lips felt like a ghost against yours, unsure if he read the signs correctly but the kiss grew more intimate when you kissed him back
ꕤ Making out with him is something you do for comfort, cuddling together in bed, side by side until he moves to hover above you
ꕤ his long hair drapes around you like a curtain, almost as if to gain more privacy in your own four walls
ꕤ Getos lips are soft and move like feathers against yours, gently sucking on your lower lip before he pulls back to get a look at your face, a small smile painted onto his face
ꕤ in moments like these he's truly happy, you're his safe heaven and he makes sure you know this, hands holding you so delicate and moving over your skin as if you're worth more than life itself
ꕤ when he leans back in, his kiss grows more intense, tongue swiping over your lip to beg for entrance which you gladly give
ꕤ Even his tongue is gentle with its movements, gently massaging yours, not looking to dominate you in any way, simply enjoying to be this close and intimate with you
ꕤ kisses like these work him up really fast, low groans and moans swallowed by your mouth, especially when you run your hands through his hair or unbutton his shirt
ꕤ most of the time it does end with more than just kissing but it's also really sweet and gentle like this, making sure it's all about you and you can feel his affection
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | thank you @keiskyutie for helping me get a characterization on Choso!
☰ Toji:
ꕤ His kisses are rarely sweet, usually hot and rough
ꕤ Toji prefers to have you straddle him or to have you in a position where he has the full control over your body
ꕤ big hands gripping onto your waist to keep you grounded against his lap while his lips hungrily kiss yours
ꕤ His lips aren't soft, almost chapped and you can feel the scar on the corner of his mouth which made you gasp softly the first time you kissed him
ꕤ He likes how responsive you are, teasing you by gently biting your lower lip or by slipping his tongue into your mouth unasked
ꕤ no matter if you're on top or pressed against a wall, he has the full control over your kiss, pressing your body against his when you straddle him or his body against yours when he's pushing you against a wall
ꕤ His tongue is forceful, swaying around yours in ways that make your head spin and all you could think of was him. Him.
ꕤ Toji takes up all your senses and slowly drives you insane with his rough kisses, manhandling you in ways he craves you
ꕤ He groans into the kiss when you grind against his hips only to grab you by the back of your neck to deepen the kiss further
ꕤ Make out sessions like these leave you breathless, your hands in his hair, his around the back of your neck and on your hip
ꕤ the moment you two part there's a little string of saliva connecting your lips and a fire of lust burning in his eyes… I hope you know what you got yourself into
☰ Choso:
ꕤ Choso’s kisses start off timid and soft but turn desperate and a little rough
ꕤ His lips always feel a little cold and he's almost too shy to kiss you, starting with little pecks to your cheek and neck as if he's testing the waters
ꕤ you need to initiate the actual kiss, your lips finally Meeting his and you can hear a satisfied sigh come from him, letting you know that this is exactly what he hoped for
ꕤ His hands are cupping your cheeks in an instant, almost holding you too tight but he felt like he needed you like his lungs needed oxygen
ꕤ the longer the kiss goes on, the more desperate and confident he feels because you make him feel so wanted
ꕤ his strong hands slowly move down to your hips so he can pull you closer against his well built frame, one arm around your waist while the other wanders over your body
ꕤ His tongue finds its way past your lips, eagerly fighting yours for dominance and you can hear how into it he is, little grunts and groans coming from the man
ꕤ Choso loses track of time and space when his lightly chapped lips are locked with yours like this, not wanting this moment to ever end
ꕤ He prefers for you to be on top of him but when he gets lost in the passion he will flip you around so he's on top, the feeling of having you beneath him making him feel so ethereal
ꕤ Doesn't notice how his hands slide under your shirt but always stop caressing you right below your chest, holding onto your sides, grabbing desperately at the skin when your tongue brushes against his
ꕤ if you want more you just need to give him the green light, he wants you since his lips touched yours for the first time
☰ Geto:
ꕤ Geto’s kisses are sweet and gentle, almost too soft
ꕤ The first time he kissed you, his lips felt like a ghost against yours, unsure if he read the signs correctly but the kiss grew more intimate when you kissed him back
ꕤ Making out with him is something you do for comfort, cuddling together in bed, side by side until he moves to hover above you
ꕤ his long hair drapes around you like a curtain, almost as if to gain more privacy in your own four walls
ꕤ Getos lips are soft and move like feathers against yours, gently sucking on your lower lip before he pulls back to get a look at your face, a small smile painted onto his face
ꕤ in moments like these he's truly happy, you're his safe heaven and he makes sure you know this, hands holding you so delicate and moving over your skin as if you're worth more than life itself
ꕤ when he leans back in, his kiss grows more intense, tongue swiping over your lip to beg for entrance which you gladly give
ꕤ Even his tongue is gentle with its movements, gently massaging yours, not looking to dominate you in any way, simply enjoying to be this close and intimate with you
ꕤ kisses like these work him up really fast, low groans and moans swallowed by your mouth, especially when you run your hands through his hair or unbutton his shirt
ꕤ most of the time it does end with more than just kissing but it's also really sweet and gentle like this, making sure it's all about you and you can feel his affection
Who loves it when you pounce ontop of him at the bare time of 7 am. Your arms are rubbing at his chest and shoulders. Every so often carressing his face before gently kissing him while your ass jiggles against his cock. His cock that thrusts deep into your pussy that forces you to break the kiss to moan.
His nails are digging into the skin of your lower waist as your pussy is dragging all over his cock in a pleasing tune. your moans are soft and quiet but enough to make his ears turn red. your breasts are bouncing, inches from his face.
His nails are digging into your lower waist. The sun barely glistening through the nearly shut windows and your hair is a mess strands all over your forehead. Your hands are digging into his thick strands, his cock entering into you so deeply you swear he reaching your stomach.
His hips are bucked up and he is a moaning mess. Begging and pleading for you to just come all over his cock, his bottom lip slightly bruised with tiring kisses.
“Fuck…” you curse, not finding any other word to mumble with this intense pleasure. “I’m close..”
“Cum all over me baby..” his moans are reaching higher notes. “Need you so bad- fuck”
Your hands get a tighter grip of his hair and you bend completely until your lips align with his again. He brings his hands down to your ass until he is finally met with a euphoric feeling of his cum mixing with yours.
TOJI
He just loves the way your pussy slurps his cock right in. Especially when he has got you on all 4s, your ass pressed up against him as it giggles and bounces with every thrust. He’s got a hand on your waist and a hand on your ass thrusting.
He’s vocal too. Talking about how good your pussy is taking him and how tight you feel. Calling you all sorts of sweet names that makes your pussy clench onto him more. He’s going feral and he loves his nails that dig into your waist.
“Fuck, ma’” his whimpers are angelic, the groans in his voice making you grip the sheets the same way he gripped onto your waist.
“Just like that, Toji” your moans are inconsistent but your words aren’t. His pace was too intense, too much pleasure that ran up and down your veins. You were loosing your senses.
The sounds of flesh smacking against one another filled the room first before your moans reached higher notes. You swear you were seeing stars, much more stars than what the beautiful night displayed for you.
Your hair is a mess, sweat is falling from your forehead and you can only focus on the feeling of your orgasm that crashes down immediately with his last thrust, his cock slamming deep into your soft spot.
NANAMI
Of course his favorite position is missionary. He loves having his body above and close to yours, foreheads touching. His kisses that are everlasting and rarely break and when they do only to praise and worship your soul and body. He loves how your pussy continues to pull him in no matter how fast he is thrusting deep into you.
He hates that this feeling won’t last forever but as long as he has you besides him, he will get to experience it more then a dozen of times. Your pleasure always becomes before his as he is always wondering and making sure you are okay. He doesn’t even care if he orgasms, he needs to make you finish first.
“So fuckin’ pretty for me, baby” he kisses the corner of your mouth dragging his lips to your cheek and down your throat to continue decorating your skin in hickies. “Just like that.. shit!”
He’s grunting your name, your fingers dance in his stands that barely reach his neck. Your legs are lifted around his waist, keeping him close not wanting him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t even choose too be anywhere else.
“I’m close..” you softly whisper and he’s happy and proud to hear those words fall from your lips.
“Cmon baby” he begs, all he cares about was that feeling of your orgasm crashing and your slick gushing all over his cock. He removes his lips from your neck before giving you one more kiss of encouragement that takes you nowhere else but over the edge.
And you did fall over the edge. A loud moan of release that broke the kiss, his name screaming from your lips, as your cunt soaked his cock in your cum. Your chest if heaving up and down against his, before lips reconnect as he finally stuffs you full with his seed.
thinking about collegebf!gojo staying over for the night, constantly complaining about your single size bed.
“stop kicking me.”
“m’not kicking you.”
“Yes, yes you are satoru, don’t even try to deny it.” You huff, grumbling into your pillow.
“Is it my fault that you have a small ass bed?” Gojo exclaims, “I can’t even turn over right, I’ll pull a muscle.”
“leave then.”
your bedroom fills with immediate silence as soon as the words leave your mouth. your stomach nearly drops, regret creeping across your skin. you’ve only been dating satoru for a few months but you’ve known him for years and can already predict his reactions when it comes down to situations like this.
there’s two possible ways he could take this. one: he could turn into a brat and actually leave, giving you the silent treatment until you guilt trip him into talking to you by buying him sweet cinnamon buns for breakfast. or two: he plays along and actually ends up kicking you out…of your own bed.
awaiting his response you whisper his name tentatively.
“satoru—“
“take it back.”
“or what?” you tease, despite there is anxiety in your tone.
“fine then.”
Satoru sits up and reaches for his phone on your bedside table, immediately his fingers start typing, you watch him silently as he scrolls.
your mind gushes over the possible things he’s doing on his phone. finding ways to break up with you? Texting someone to pick him up? Ordering an Uber to leave?
the thought of it makes the regret take control over your whole body.
“I take it back!” you exclaimed suddenly, your arms wrapping around him, securing him tightly so he can’t leave. “m’sorry,” you kiss him between your speech,”don’t leave me — I’ll buy — you all the cinnamon— buns that you want.”
“whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about leaving? If anything we’re leaving together.”
“we?” you repeat.
“I’m looking for one bedroom apartments with a double bed.” He emphasises on the last part, “m’ getting sick of these dorm rooms.”
“wait really? you want to—“ you pause, swallowing thickly as the words come out of your throat.
“you want to live together?”
Gojo looks up, the glow of his phone screen illuminating his face.
“Of course baby, unless you don’t want to?”
“I do!,” you say exasperatedly, “I want to. I just didn’t think…”
“what?”
“well, right now? we don’t even have any—
“shhh—“ satoru presses a finger to your lips, “don’t start worrying that sweet little head of yours sweetheart, I’ve got it all figured out.”
you frown, pulling away his hand, “don’t sign anything without letting me see it first satoru” you warn.
“or course!” He says, “what do you take me to be, an idiot?
“sometimes.”
satoru glances up at you, his expression declares full offence. this is the moment where he’d choose to get up and leave but thankfully your sweet lips play as a smart distraction.
“but you’re my idiot, satoru, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
thinking about collegebf!gojo staying over for the night, constantly complaining about your single size bed.
“stop kicking me.”
“m’not kicking you.”
“Yes, yes you are satoru, don’t even try to deny it.” You huff, grumbling into your pillow.
“Is it my fault that you have a small ass bed?” Gojo exclaims, “I can’t even turn over right, I’ll pull a muscle.”
“leave then.”
your bedroom fills with immediate silence as soon as the words leave your mouth. your stomach nearly drops, regret creeping across your skin. you’ve only been dating satoru for a few months but you’ve known him for years and can already predict his reactions when it comes down to situations like this.
there’s two possible ways he could take this. one: he could turn into a brat and actually leave, giving you the silent treatment until you guilt trip him into talking to you by buying him sweet cinnamon buns for breakfast. or two: he plays along and actually ends up kicking you out…of your own bed.
awaiting his response you whisper his name tentatively.
“satoru—“
“take it back.”
“or what?” you tease, despite there is anxiety in your tone.
“fine then.”
Satoru sits up and reaches for his phone on your bedside table, immediately his fingers start typing, you watch him silently as he scrolls.
your mind gushes over the possible things he’s doing on his phone. finding ways to break up with you? Texting someone to pick him up? Ordering an Uber to leave?
the thought of it makes the regret take control over your whole body.
“I take it back!” you exclaimed suddenly, your arms wrapping around him, securing him tightly so he can’t leave. “m’sorry,” you kiss him between your speech,”don’t leave me — I’ll buy — you all the cinnamon— buns that you want.”
“whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about leaving? If anything we’re leaving together.”
“we?” you repeat.
“I’m looking for one bedroom apartments with a double bed.” He emphasises on the last part, “m’ getting sick of these dorm rooms.”
“wait really? you want to—“ you pause, swallowing thickly as the words come out of your throat.
“you want to live together?”
Gojo looks up, the glow of his phone screen illuminating his face.
“Of course baby, unless you don’t want to?”
“I do!,” you say exasperatedly, “I want to. I just didn’t think…”
“what?”
“well, right now? we don’t even have any—
“shhh—“ satoru presses a finger to your lips, “don’t start worrying that sweet little head of yours sweetheart, I’ve got it all figured out.”
you frown, pulling away his hand, “don’t sign anything without letting me see it first satoru” you warn.
“or course!” He says, “what do you take me to be, an idiot?
“sometimes.”
satoru glances up at you, his expression declares full offence. this is the moment where he’d choose to get up and leave but thankfully your sweet lips play as a smart distraction.
“but you’re my idiot, satoru, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
summary: Satoru Gojo has been your best friend for the past 14 years. When he suddenly finds himself taking care of a kid, your relationship twists and turns into something far more romantic.
warnings: fem!reader , slow burn , mutual pining , angst , suggestive (nothing explicit but things are implied) , mentions of death , violent imagery , reader deals with a lot in this fic , gojo is sweet tho !! not proof-read
word count: 15.8k (kill me now.)
a/n: this fic has been in my drafts for a year now and it's honestly such a mess but i've written it and i'm happy with it (kind of) so the fact that it's such a jumble barely bothers me anymore !! special thanks to the glue song by beabadoobee for helping me through this
“I love you,” he says, lips curled into a pout that makes you scrunch your nose in disgust.
You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, sighing deeply, “No you don’t.”
“But I do!” and his voice gets louder, which only coaxes the already forming headache behind your eyes to grow. “So you should get your notes out for me.”
“What do you know about love anyway?”
It’s muttered just under your breath and you hope Gojo didn’t catch it, isn’t able to read into the bitterness laced along each word. You slam your laptop shut, standing up abruptly. Gojo follows suit.
“I’m not digging up my anthropology notes from two years ago just so you can cheat.”
His hopeful expression drops in an instant, hands flying forward to grab onto you, “No! Don’t you want me to pass? Don’t you love me?”
And what about you? What do you know about love?
You know that it’s difficult. There isn’t a need for any profound thinking, any nuance, for you to believe that. You know it’s true because you’ve lived it—because you are living it. You don’t have to have said “I love you,” once in your life, to know your way around the trials and tribulations that come with pesky emotions. (Emphasis on pesky emotions that call for intimacy.)
You know that love hurts. Perhaps, it’s the lack of control that makes love so painful. While beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, those who behold can’t choose who they wish to admire. It happens unexpectedly, like the changing tides: waves of emotion crashing down at once and pushing you off kilter.
You know that love is uncertain, a gamble. It’s the lack of promise love can give. While you may love someone with everything you have, devote yourself to them, prioritize them—they might never see you as anyone other than a friend. Sometimes, you might be a best friend. Oftentimes, it’s never anything more than that.
And yet, love is such a beautiful thing. It bleeds warm, saccharine sweet like spoonfuls of honey, and fills you with the greatest happiness. Tingles at your fingertips where they touch, shivers down your spine when they stare, butterflies erupting in your stomach when they speak. Your skin growing warm and your smile stretched wide—that was the beauty of love.
But how can something so precious be so utterly disheartening?
“No,” you roll your eyes, walking away from your best friend, unsurprised when he scrambles after you. “I don’t love you.”
You don’t mean it at all.
-: ✧ :-
You sigh a great deal in your life, but none of them compare to the way your chest heaves when you find yourself doing something you know you’ll regret. It’s never a shock that these regretful choices often accompany a certain white-haired man.
The pitch black darkness of your room is pierced by a beam of bright light from your phone screen, your tired eyes reading over the message once. Twice. Three times.
gojo 🤑:
hey can i ask for a favor?
pleaseeeeee??????
🙇♂️🙏🙇♂️🙏🙇♂️🙏
im begging you 😫😫
You groan, tossing your phone to the side to run your hand down your face, letting your fingers catch on the soft skin around your eyes. Despite the many years you’ve known him, your hand still trembles as you type out your response, another sigh escaping your lips.
you:
what the fuck is it now
The urge to slam your head into the nearest wall makes your neck twitch, the ghost of the movement lingering over your body. Why did you even bother asking?
gojo 🤑:
i knew you’d say yes 😁
you just love me SO much
come to my place tomorrow
early too better be there before sunrise
you:
i’m going to kill you for this one satoru
Setting down your phone, you will yourself to close your eyes and forget about the man who’s been the cause for all your inner turmoil lately.
To be honest, he’s been the cause of your inner turmoil for the past year and a half, as pathetic as that may be. It’s not your fault he’s handsome, charming, funny, reliable—the list goes on. Sure, he can be slightly immature at times, and he often shies away from commitment, but who doesn’t have flaws, right?
You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, trying to clear your mind of all things Gojo.
The thing with love is that, at its worst, it can stay a secret for years and years to come. You can pine and yearn for someone so terribly, every fiber in your body craves them, and they would never know. You never have to tell them anything. That choice alone is what has put you in your recent predicament.
If life was black and white, perhaps you could have stopped being friends with him the moment you noticed the way your heart raced at the mere thought of him. But things don’t work like that and, frankly, you think Gojo would hunt you down if you even tried to cut him off.
You’ve tried to rid yourself of this 190cm lanky demon several times over the course of your life, however you’ve been unsuccessful every single time. When you met him 14 years ago, you didn’t think Satoru Gojo would become your best friend. In fact, you found him annoying, like a pesky mosquito that refused to leave you alone no matter how hard you swatted at him.
The two of you had your fair share of fights growing up, some lasting mere hours, others stretching on over the course of a couple days. Despite that, you both managed to make up and forgive each other no matter what.
You had believed then, as a hurting teenager, that one of your more serious arguments would eventually drive you both apart. After all, the similarities between you both were few and far between. For some reason entirely unknown to you, your scathing words never pushed him away.
And now that it's been 14 years, you’ve grown too fond of him to be able to imagine a life without him.
So, you’re forced to swallow back the way your feelings crawl to the back of your throat when you’re with him, resting at the tip of your tongue, because you know he’d never see you as anything more than a friend.
Hell, it was obvious. The two of you have done everything you could possibly do as a couple: go on amusement park “dates”, spend hours in the arcade together. He’s even insisted on cuddling, changing in front of one another, sharing a bed. Yet, Gojo has never seemed to look at you any differently.
And none of it ever bothered you either—until last year, when you saw him in a different light nearly overnight. In comparison to all else you had done with him, this was absolutely minuscule, but it's the reason Gojo takes up so much of your thoughts even now.
You had come over to his apartment. It was a Saturday and every Saturday, he insisted the both of you hang out. When you met him as a dumb little kid, it was easy to hang out whenever you both pleased. Things are obviously different now that you both have responsibilities.
Being busy with university and your part-time job, you and Gojo began to see less and less of each other. Still, Saturday evenings stayed dedicated to your long-standing friendship. That day, your shift at the grocery store was particularly grueling: loud babies wailing, irritable customers screaming in your face. To top it all off, you had a headache and had to skip lunch. Safe to say, you were exhausted.
You got to Gojo’s house, knocking on the door, almost falling asleep against the wood. He didn't greet you. In fact, he wasn't even home. This wasn't uncommon, you simply pulled out your spare key and walked inside, making a beeline for his couch and letting your body sink into the soft cushions. The guy was unbelievably rich for a university student—not that you were complaining.
You wanted to stay awake, wait for him so you could follow through with your usual Saturday shenanigans, but you just couldn’t.
The couch was awfully comfortable, cradling your fatigued body, lulling you to sleep. Your eyes fought against the instinct to close, but ultimately, you lost and gave in. Darkness enveloped you as your head fell back. It was a rather uncomfortable position, but at that moment, you didn’t have enough energy to care.
You fell asleep in mere minutes, and because he has the worst timing, Gojo showed up seconds after you had bid goodbye to consciousness.
To this day, you’re still unsure if you had dreamt it, or maybe you had jolted back into a state of semi-awareness when your noisy friend barged in with a loud, “Honey! I’m home!". What you’re sure of, is the fact that he had moved you. While drifting in and out of sleep, you felt his cold hands press into the muscle of your arms as he laid you down, moving you into a much more comfortable position.
Perhaps you were still in the throes of deep sleep, sinking into pillowy clouds in your dreams and that’s why you conjured up this moment. It might not have happened at all. Or, perhaps, Gojo did lean over you, his warmth spilling over your cheek as he pressed his lips to your forehead. They were slightly chapped as they brushed against your skin, and you felt the gust of air as he sighed his goodnight.
You wonder if he had smiled.
It wasn’t like Gojo had never been affectionate with you before. In fact, you’re pretty sure physical touch is one of his love languages with how prone he is to clinging onto you like some parasite. Some things, like forehead kisses, are strictly outside the bounds of your friendship.
There’s something so intimate about that gesture, something far more genuine and laced with a kind of devotion that never exists between people who are simply just friends.
The following morning, you wrenched yourself out of his apartment with the excuse that you had to feed your fish.
You don’t even own fish.
The feeling had been so utterly foreign. You couldn’t remember a time when you had ever felt this nervous around Gojo—your palms sweaty, a tingling feeling racing up and down your spine. The realization dawned on you the moment you had woken up.
This feeling, which had laid dormant at the bottom of your heart, flickered to life, merging with the very blood that pumps through your veins.
Maybe, Gojo had always been more than just a friend. More than a best friend, even.
You don’t know how to face it—the truth about your feelings. You try and fail to move on, try and fail to confess, try and fail.
Which is why it wasn’t surprising in any sense that you were awake, before the sun had even graced your city, slipping on your shoes so you could go and see what your best friend wanted from you.
-: ✧ :-
“You have a what?”
Gojo snorts, rolling his eyes, “Why’d you say that like I asked you to get naked or something? Listen: I have some errands to run and I need you to look after this kid of mine.”
You’re struggling to wrap your head around everything he just laid onto you. Even if the only new information was that he, seemingly overnight, got himself a kid. How did Satoru Gojo end up with a child in his care?
You sputter, trying to come up with something to say. “Since when did you have a kid?”
“I adopted him a few days ago, saved him from some family stuff. Anyways, can you look after him or not?”
You really hate yourself for saying yes, but you say yes, and suddenly you’re sitting on the couch with the world’s grumpiest child next to you. It’s been a few minutes since Gojo’s left to do God knows what, and neither of you have said a word. You expected Megumi to get off the couch and go do his thing, while you figure out how to look after him, but he stayed glued to the spot Gojo called him to.
“So…how old are you?”
Silence.
“I’m twenty-two, just like Satoru.”
More silence.
You probably wouldn’t have known his name had it not been for Gojo telling you.
You sigh—he clearly doesn’t like you. It stings a little bit, you liked to tell yourself that you’re the type of person kids naturally gravitate towards, but clearly there are exceptions.
“What’s your…favorite color?” you try once more, and again, it’s met with silence. The boy hasn’t even looked at you, staring straight ahead, preoccupied with something else.
“Well, mine is probably blue. I think it’s such a nice color—like the ocean and the sky. And there’s so many shades, but lighter blues are especially gorgeous,” you ramble, feeling a bit embarrassed.
He lets out a breath through his nose, and you perk up, waiting for his response. “I like pink. Do you like blue because it reminds you of Gojo’s eyes?”
You laugh, perhaps a bit too loud. Out of all the things he could have said, you certainly weren’t expecting that.
Waving your hands in front of you, you try to shrug off his question, “No, it’s nothing like that! He’s just my best friend.”
Megumi nods, but something tells you he doesn’t believe you. You can’t believe you got bested by a six-year-old. Shaking your head, you interrogate him some more about his hobbies, and Megumi responds with one word answers. Eventually, the two of you settle on reading him some non-fiction book that you’re surprised even interests him.
As the hours stretch on, Megumi warms up to you a little more. Or something like that. He’s started asking you more about yourself, and even let you inside his room, showing you his growing collection of books about animals.
He’s strangely interested in your relationship with Gojo: asking how you two met, why you wanted to be friends with him. Whenever you give him your answer (some bullshit you make up on the spot because—really. Why are you still friends with an idiot like him?), he hums like he’s learned some fundamental truth about you.
Honestly, the kid scares you a little bit and it makes perfect sense that he ended up with Satoru Gojo as his parent.
Speaking of: the fact that Gojo was even allowed to adopt him in the first place makes you question everything you ever knew about him. Then again, there’s always the possibility that this was by no means a legal adoption. He did say Megumi was saved from some family troubles, and knowing your best friend of several years, this very well entails kidnapping.
You furrow your brows, looking over at the six-year-old doodling some large fluffy dogs, “Did Gojo just scoop you up off the street?”
“Something like that.”
Well. That’s alarming.
When Gojo gets back, he doesn’t really offer you much of an explanation as to how or why he suddenly has a kid. You were naïve for thinking you would get one at all. Instead, he tucks Megumi into bed, sits you down at his dinner table, and shares some of the takeout he brought home with you.
You expected that to be the last time you’d be babysitting Megumi.
But then you’re back in two days, and then the day after that as well. And then the day after that too.
Now, you’re a good friend who loves helping out your friends, and you’re a good Samaritan who will provide your aid where it’s needed. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t even that terrible of an arrangement. You could definitely live like this.
But then it’s been a week of being called to babysit, and you definitely can’t live like this.
You don’t have the heart to look Gojo in the eyes and tell him you can’t do this anymore, so you keep going. Love makes people do crazy things, even if it’s ignoring pending assignments so you could color dogs with a grumpy little boy.
You rub the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you get dressed, “Why don’t you get an actual babysitter? I doubt I’m being a good influence.”
Of course, your academics are your top priority. But you can’t help but think about how Megumi might turn out if the only people he seems to be surrounded by are you, and your impulsive, borderline insane best friend.
Gojo’s voice crackles over the phones as he laughs, “You see, I would. But Megumi keeps asking for you- actually, he insists that it has to be you.”
Maybe, you’re just being dramatic. This isn’t that bad anyways.
This time when you step into the Gojo household, your beloved best friend already has one foot out the door. Normally, he lingers, giving you both sickly sweet goodbyes, scooping up a struggling Megumi into his arms to plant a big wet kiss on his cheek.
He offers you one too, which you quickly decline.
“I won’t be back until really late today,” Satoru grimaces, pulling the door shut only for you to pull it back open.
You pout, slightly alarmed, “But Satoru, I have an essay to work on!”
"Just use my laptop!” he shouts as he runs off. You wonder how he has the time to do any of his own assignments.
You figure he’s probably out meeting with his model UN group. It’s one of the few academic pursuits in his life that Gojo is very serious about. Either that, or he actually took up the tutoring offer from Nanami (but you highly doubt that).
Megumi has yet to wake up, so you go on a hunt for Gojo’s laptop to start on your essay. Might as well be productive while you have the chance to.
You find it resting on his desk in his bedroom, and bring it over to the living room. It’s only when you open it up that you find out it’s password locked. You try texting Gojo, but something tells you he won’t be responding.
If you can’t guess the password, then you have to begrudgingly start your essay on your phone, which sounds like a nightmare.
Your first guess is his own birthday. Satoru has a habit of acting like his birth reset the course of planet Earth, so it wouldn’t surprise you if that was also his password. Surprisingly, you’re wrong. And you’re wrong about it being Getou’s birthday, or Megumi’s birthday (which you only learned recently), and even your own birthday.
You’ve definitely ruled out the possibility of it ever being Nanami’s birthday, which leads you to believe it isn’t a birthday at all. Bringing your hands together, you steeple your fingers and bring them under your chin; trying to think like Gojo is hurting your brain.
Clearly this isn't working out. Gojo's an enigma and trying to put yourself in his shoes is making you lose what few brain cells you've managed to save.
So, you make your way into his poorly guarded room.
You tend to keep a safe distance away from his bedroom for obvious reasons—Lord knows what Gojo has lying around—so it feels strange to open the door and step inside.
Your first impression is one of surprise at how clean it was. Knowing his tendency to leave many of his chores untouched or half-completed, you expected his room to be a reflection of his laziness, but you can actually see the floor. His bed is made and his dirty clothes lay in a hamper in the corner, clean clothes folded and placed off to the side on his bed.
His desk is a tad cluttered with random trinkets, many of which you recognize from your countless adventures with him, but it’s organized enough.
“Okay, if I was Satoru, what would I make my password?” you whisper just under your breath as your eyes continue to scan and scrutinize his room.
You walk up to a few post-it notes stuck on the wall, hoping that one of them might be his password. You remember the amount of times Gojo’s gotten locked out of his email, social media, and other things—it would only make sense for him to write passwords down.
Unfortunately for you, all of them are reminders to take out the trash.
Pulling out the chair tucked into his desk, you take a seat, sprawling out as you continue to take in his room. Growing up, you spent hours upon hours cooped up in Satoru’s room. The two of you spent your time playing video games, watching tv shows you were definitely too young for, and talking about everything and nothing.
When you got bored of his room, the both of you would do the same thing in your room.
Somewhere along the years, you stopped hanging out in each others’ rooms. You suppose it’s only natural—your bedroom goes from being a place to sleep to a clear insight into the way you live your life.
Gojo’s room lacks the mess you would’ve expected, but it’s still obviously his room from the several polaroids stuck to the wall, the kikufuku wrappers on his desk, and the growing collection of mugs accumulating on the nightstand.
It makes you smile, despite the fact that the several mugs are nothing short of disgusting. Next to them is a framed picture. You never took Satoru for someone who’s sentimental, and out of sheer curiosity, you walk over to see what it is.
Your smile only widens as you realise it's a picture of you and him from when you were young. You recognize the park the two of you are at instantly: it was where you both met. You were both only just kids back then. He basically ran into you and felt guilty, so he offered to hang out with you since you apparently looked lonely. You took offense, obviously, and told him to leave you alone.
He did not and suddenly you found yourself with a new friend. Gojo forced himself into your life and after a few short days, you decided he wasn’t all that bad. The picture was taken by his mom, before the both of you parted ways, only to immediately find out you lived across from each other.
You flip the frame over, surprised to find a date scribbled in the corner. From the year alone, you figure it was the day the picture was taken. Realising you may have stumbled across his password, you rush back to his laptop to try it.
Lo and behold, it worked.
You sit there for a moment, desperately trying not to read into what you just found out. Surely, there’s nothing more to this than Satoru choosing a date for a password. He probably didn’t want to go with a birthday since it would be too obvious, so he picked another date instead.
Shaking the annoyingly hopeful thoughts crowding your mind, you quickly begin working on your essay.
You only get halfway through your essay before Megumi joins you, silent as always, but from the way he’s side-eyeing you it’s obvious he wants your attention. You spend the rest of the day with him as you usually would, reading and drawing, sharing bits and pieces about your life.
Somehow the conversation spirals to when you and Gojo met, and you’re not sure if you’re still hung up over his password, but you find your voice shaking a little as you recount the many things you’ve done with him.
Eventually, as the sun begins to set, you get dinner ready and eat on the couch with Megumi by your side. Some random cartoon show is playing on TV, but Megumi seems much more interested in mimicking the way you’re forking pasta into your mouth.
He helps you clean up, and shuffles in next to you on the couch once more. You don’t remember Megumi falling asleep, or when you fell asleep as well.
-: ✧ :-
When you wake up, you're surrounded by warmth. It feels like you're sinking into something akin to moist, spongy cake. The sunlight melts over your closed eyes, and you flutter them open, blinded by white very briefly as you get used to the daytime once more.
And then you notice Gojo laying next to you, elbow pressed into the mattress as he holds his head up with his palm, obviously shirtless and staring down at you. All the air in your lungs escapes you quickly, getting tangled in your throat as you choke.
You frantically point at his torso, and the bed the two of you were sharing, "What- you- what?"
He laughs and it does little to calm you, "Don't worry, we didn't do anything.
“I didn't want to leave you on the couch after I pried Megumi away to send him off to school."
He shrugs off the comforter, making your thrashing heart slow down at the sight of his sweatpants. You can feel your own clothes from last night on you: your uncomfortable jeans and an old cotton and polyester t-shirt.
You frown, following him, "Megumi goes to school?"
"Yeah?" he says, while your eyes flit all over his chest. "He's six, what else would he be doing?"
You decide not to comment on the fact that Megumi hasn’t been attending school for the past couple days, trusting that Gojo knew what he was doing. That’s probably a mistake but it’s not your problem to worry about.
The two of you file out of his bedroom, and you scroll through your phone while waiting for him to leave the bathroom.
"I can't believe Megumi slept with you last night. And on top of that, he was clinging onto you like a dumb koala."
You could barely understand Gojo with his toothbrush shoved in his mouth, but you could make out enough to respond with a smug smirk, "Sorry that I'm better at this than you are."
"I'm telling you—it's the maternal instincts!" he huffs, walking back into the bathroom with the slam of the door. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to pull him away from you in the morning?"
He's yelling from inside the bathroom, and you roll your eyes as he keeps complaining.
"I basically got in my morning work out! And then-!" he starts again, this time opening the door, wiping his face with a small towel, "that little shit had the audacity to start wailing when I carried you off to the bedroom.
"Whining about how you were his or whatever," Gojo trails off, his voice getting quieter as he begins to mumble. "As if I didn't know you first."
You feel your chest tighten as your heart swells; it's surprising how quickly you've grown attached to the little kid. For all his efforts, he was actually pretty clingy.
A laugh bubbles up your throat, the corners of your mouth twitching up with amusement as you come to a realization.
"Gojo...are you jealous of a little kid?"
He gives you an incredulous look, scoffing in offense, "Gojo? You mean Satoru—first of all."
The laugh you've been holding back bursts past your lips, escaping you as you shut the door in his face.
"Second of all," he shouts, "no. I am not jealous of some kid!"
"I beg to differ!" you call out, and he doesn't respond. You enjoy the silence: this feels good. This feels domestic, and natural, and good.
It makes your stomach twist when you realize that Gojo is nothing more than a good friend. And he'd never see you as anything more than that.
"What do you want for breakfast?" he asks suddenly, and you clear your thoughts.
"Nothing, coffee is fine."
"Okay, no. I’m making waffles," he hums and you can hear him walk away, his footsteps making the ground shake.
You go about your business in the bathroom, exiting a few seconds later to meet Gojo in the kitchen. He's busy gathering ingredients, setting everything down onto the marble counters as he hums a song you recognize as one you introduced him to.
Leaning against the cool counter, you begin to speak, "You know the heart attack you gave me today morning?"
He responds by turning around, giving you a wolfish grin, which you pointedly ignore.
"Why didn't you leave me on the couch anyway?"
This was the first time Gojo has ever made an effort to pick you up and move you somewhere else, let alone his own bed. You've slept over multiple times before, and always woke up on the couch.
He stills, hesitating for a moment and you can feel the air almost pause.
"And what? Leave you to complain at me about how you slept weird?"
He brushed off the question, both you and him know that. But you let it go, opting for admiring your best friend, and crush, work the kitchen.
Gojo isn't the best cook, certainly not better than you, but he can hold his own. That being said, Gojo's a messy cook and always leaves the kitchen like a hurricane swept through it.
He looks good, but then again, the moments where he looks even mediocre are few and far between. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, and the watery sun from the cloudy sky outside spreads over his back and his porcelain hair like it's meant to be shining on him at all times.
You come around the side of the kitchen, hoisting yourself up onto the counter Gojo was working on, allowing your gaze to settle on the curve of his nose and the way his lips were parted with focus. His eyes seem to take on an almost mystical glow—vivid cerulean irises flitting from the different bowls laid out in front of him.
"Take a picture, Princess, it'll last longer," he mutters with a ghost of a smirk.
"You're so annoying."
His boisterous laugh takes up the whole room, and you bite your lip, looking down at your swinging feet.
He calms down and pours the batter into the warmed up waffle maker, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth with focus, "You know, it took Megumi weeks to warm up to me. He's not shy but...he's kind of picky with people."
This surprises you.
Sure, when you first met him, Megumi wasn't the kindest. but it didn't take you long to break him out of his shell. He wasn't the most talkative, but it was the little things: when he leaned into your side while you sat beside him, when he mimicked the way you had eaten. Megumi is observant and mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery.
"I hadn't noticed..." you finally say, trailing off.
Gojo exhales something of a laugh, "That's because he loves you."
"I think 'love' is pushing it-"
"No, no! You should've seen him today, bitching and moaning about how I'm making him leave you." He rolls his eyes with a groan, muttering to himself in annoyance.
You smirk, pointing at his face to make a quip about him rolling his eyes, when someone begins to bang on the front door. There's a quick, rapid succession of knocks, and then: "Satoru! Where are you? You have class!"
You don't give Gojo the chance to speak before you're jumping off the counter, rushing over to open the door.
Getou stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, brows furrowed until he realizes it's you who's opened the door, and not his perpetually tardy friend. He breathes out your name like it's a song. "Nice to see you," he smiles, bending down to meet your gaze. Your cheeks grow warm, involuntarily.
Though your affection may lie with Gojo, Getou was still every bit as charming, and then some.
You move out of the way, giving him the space to step into Gojo's lavish flat. His sneakers squeak against the tile of the entrance as he stops next to you.
"Good to see you too, Suguru," you grin back, wrapping your arms around your waist.
He shuffles a bit closer to you, and you don't hesitate to lean against him, still somewhat tired from your slightly rude awakening. Getou moves with ease as he slips an arm around you, bringing you into his side.
"I don't have class today, you know that."
Gojo comes into view from around the kitchen, his eyes immediately fixating on the way Suguru has you within his grasp. He visibly stiffens, eyes darkening in a way you haven’t seen before, wearing a kind of neutral look that you can’t understand.
Suguru, on the other hand, simply raises an eyebrow, "Are you sure about that? Today is Tuesday, not Wednesday."
And this time when Gojo stills, it's not with some unreadable expression that confuses you—it's with shock. He scrambles to pull out his phone from the pocket of his sweats, glancing at the date before letting out a string of curses.
"C'mere," he gestures at you, then ultimately decides to pull you away, his hand closing around your wrist.
You let Gojo drag you into the kitchen, ignoring the way your skin burns at his touch, and he turns to you with an apologetic smile. He's stumbling out his words, hands gripping your upper arms as he speaks. "I can't be marked late by the professor again, or else I'm gonna be in so much trouble."
It’s beyond you why the two of you had to walk into the kitchen for him to divulge this information. And it’s certainly beyond you why Gojo had let his fingers linger around your wrist, and on your upper arms. You ignore it, however, as you move towards the sleek, black Keurig and turn it on.
Getou walks into the kitchen then, shooing a very reluctant Gojo to go get dressed. He moves over to grab you a mug for your coffee, which you graciously thank him for since Gojo had a habit of leaving everything you needed tucked away in unusually high cabinets.
You set it under the coffee maker, waiting for the dark liquid to fill the cup. Tendrils of steam spill out the sides of the mug, the kitchen filling up with the scent of the bitter drink. To your side, Getou’s leaning against the counter, watching you with a soft smile. You meet his eyes with a curious stare, raising your eyebrows.
“Something on my face, Suguru?”
He laughs, warm and deep, shaking his head, “Nothing at all.” He slides closer, reaching around you to grab a spoon before grabbing the creamer for you. “Why’d you spend the night anyway? Did that idiot bug you to study with him?”
You scoff at the thought of your ‘study’ sessions with Gojo; they always devolve into the both of you watching a movie, your work forgotten on the floor.
“Nope,” you answer, pouring some of the creamer into your coffee, “I was babysitting his…kid.”
Getou’s eyes widen ever so slightly, the only indicator of him acknowledging what you said. You open your mouth to say something more, but Gojo comes running out of his room, jacket half-on. He eyes your closeness to Getou suspiciously, before motioning for his friend to follow him with a wave of his hand.
Before they leave, Gojo walks over to where you’re standing in the kitchen, grinning at you so sweetly. You know he wants something from you.
“Would you– like to stay for dinner? With Megumi and i?” he asks, voice just a hair above a whisper. Had you not been standing so close to him, you might not have heard him at all. His expression remains sincere for a moment more before it morphs into an exaggerated pout.
“Please?” he begs, dragging out the word just to irritate you.
“Put that fucking pout away and I might agree.”
He takes that as a yes, pulling you into a hug that nearly spills the coffee out of your mug. “I’ll see you then,” he mumbles into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around your waist like you’d float away should he let go.
Getou slams a hand against the wall, reminding gojo of his presence, “Hurry it up, unless you wanna be late.”
You wave them both out, Gojo blowing a kiss your way which you pretend to catch and stomp on. The action elicits a laugh from Getou which earns him a shoulder punch from the taller of the two. They begin bickering as they walk away and you watch fondly, heart aching for something you know you’re never getting.
-: ✧ :-
When Gojo gets back from class, he arrives with Megumi in tow. The young boy stumbles inside, shrugging off his backpack as soon as he makes it in. You had let yourself in a few moments earlier, knowing gojo would be home soon. You wanted to help with dinner.
Megumi notices you seated on the couch and approaches you slowly, giving you a short wave. You return the gesture just as Gojo walks over to meet you both, large hands resting atop Megumi’s head.
“Ready for dinner?”
You nod your head, getting up, “I’m helping.”
"I figured,” he laughs, leading the way into the kitchen. You watch as he puts on the stupid apron Shoko had gotten him as a gag gift a few years ago. ‘Kiss the Cook!’ is printed in red cursive on the front with kiss marks and red hearts around it.
Gojo catches you looking at the words, leaning closer while pointing at his lips. “Well? You read the apron, Angel.”
You try not to put much meaning into the pet name and scoff, shoving him away. “Are aprons suddenly law or something?”
“Not all of them, but this one is.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s so special about this one, Satoru?” you ask, getting ingredients out from the fridge, the necessary produce needed for dinner tonight.
“It's special 'cause I said so.”
You scoff, “In your dreams, dumbass.”
Satoru grins, wide and yielding as he steps closer to where you’ve cosied up in a corner. You take a deep breath, trying to slow your heart thrashing against your ribcage. Though his attention should be elsewhere, his eyes remain glued to your own. You turn around, back facing him.
It’s a precautionary measure because you’re sure that you’d make a mistake, staring at him the way you were.
His chest presses against your back, the warmth of his body seeping through the cotton of his shirt and you can’t quite stop yourself from relaxing against him.
“Where did I put it?” he mumbles to himself, searching the cupboards above you. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about the fact that he’s crowding you against the counter, one arm resting on the marble countertop, caging you against him.
Gojo pulls away rather abruptly, the feeling of him disappearing as soon as you had gotten used to it. “Guess it’s not there after all,” he says, swiftly moving over to another cupboard to check.
You, however, have a hand pressed to your heart, feeling it nearly beat out of your chest.
Megumi joins you both in the kitchen shortly after, and Gojo brings him up to sit on some free counter space while the both of you maneuver around each other in the kitchen. You can feel Megumi watching you as you hand things over to Gojo, freezing when his fingers brush yours. You know he’s watching when Gojo reaches around you for something, pressing himself against you.
You wait for the water in the pot to come to a simmer, softly humming the chorus of a song over and over again. Eventually, Megumi picks up on the repetition, humming along with you. It brings a smile to your face and you can’t resist pinching his little cheek.
You’re too busy cooing at Megumi (whose face has gone red from embarrassment) to notice Gojo watching you both, leaning down, his cheek propped up by his arm resting on the counter. There’s a warmth in his gaze that you always seem to miss, this barely restrained desire to know you better than he knows himself.
He sighs wistfully, which gets your attention and as you turn, he’s walking closer. You let him wrap his arms around you, looking into your eyes for just a brief moment. His gaze is cloudy, like he’s wrapped up in his own head—your own pining reflected back to you. It startles you; you long to look inside his mind.
“This is really nice,” Gojo hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We should do this more often.”
You can only nod in agreement, everything you want to say sticking to the roof of your mouth, sugar exploding along your tongue like a caramel candy.
You swallow them down, deciding to keep them to yourself for a little longer. Gojo squeezes you to his chest, then untangles himself from you. You watch him get back to cooking and you wonder if his heart is also racing, the blood rushing to his head, roaring in his ears.
There's a whisper of something painful in the back of your mind. You ignore it.
Seconds ago, you were close enough to share a breath. Yet, when you watch him now, you feel as though you’ll always be miles apart.
-: ✧ :-
It’s been a few days since you’ve started babysitting Megumi. You fell so easily into their routine, like you were always meant to be a part of it. And when you listen to Gojo complain about how m\Megumi likes you more, you begin to believe that you were.
You fiddle with the keys to Gojo’s car as you stand just outside of Megumi’s school, waiting for the hordes of children to come running out. Tired mothers sit on the few benches next to the entrance, rehashing the same gossip most likely. Fathers stand possessively in front of their cars, arms crossed over their chest as they wait.
It’s cold. The wind brings a chill that sweeps over you and makes a few strands of your hair flutter, landing in a mess covering your eyes. You blow them out of the way, tapping your foot impatiently.
Megumi’s school is rather small: just one main building, single-storied. In the back, you think there’s a garden, judging by the chain link fencing colored green thanks to the growing ivy wrapped around it.
Wreathes and small Christmas trees are placed strategically along the sidewalk and on the walls outside, fairy lights strung from the roof of the school. The announcement board outside features a Santa Claus cutout smiling joyfully. The school is covered in Christmas decorations as they prepare for the upcoming holidays, only a week and a half away.
You briefly wonder what Gojo’s plans are, whether he’ll be taking Megumi home to his family. You highly doubt it—Satoru would hate to be on the receiving end of a stream of endless questions. How was he meant to explain Megumi anyway?
Along with that thought, comes another: would Megumi miss his family over the holidays?
You don’t know much about the boy at all, neither Megumi himself nor Gojo bothered to explain his past. However, it must be a pretty stark change to suddenly be under the care of a college student, especially one as eccentric as Gojo.
The clock ticks down to a minute before the end of the school day. A large crowd of children stand waiting behind the closed gates, squealing and screaming, waving frantically at their parents waiting for them.
You hear the bell ring and the gate opens, kids flooding out like a rush of water breaking past a dam. Their little legs slam against the pavement as they race for their families. You keep an eye out for Megumi, knowing that he wouldn’t be the type to behave so rambunctiously.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot the top of his head, his spiky raven hair moving slowly behind a gaggle of loud children. Megumi looks around aimlessly, probably for Nanami who normally picks him up. His friend next to him, a pink-haired boy, grins at him and says something you can’t make out.
He must be loud, you notice, as Megumi winces from the noise. His gaze eventually makes its way to you, and you watch as recognition flashes across his features. Eyebrows raised and eyes wide, Megumi makes a mad dash towards you, plowing down his friend in the process.
The sight of the pink-haired boy rolling around on the sidewalk makes you gasp, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your laughter at bay. Megumi slows down dramatically when you wave to him, struggling to appear indifferent to your presence. It’s insanely endearing.
“Hi Megumi,” you smile, reaching out a hand to brush over the unruly strands of his hair. Megumi wrinkles his nose at the feeling of your fingers smoothing over his scalp, but he returns your greeting.
“Hello. Where’s Nanami?”
The abruptness of the question barely phases you. You’re used to Megumi’s bluntness.
“Well…Satoru forgot to tell Nanami to get you today, so I showed up instead,” you answer, leading Megumi towards Gojo’s car.
You barely had the opportunity to really take in this car on your way to the school, borderline speeding so you wouldn’t show up late. Curse you for falling asleep for too long. Everything about it screamed Gojo, from the color to the model (appropriately flashy for a very flashy guy). It’s not your kind of car by any means.
You grab Megumi’s backpack while he clambers into the backseat, hopping up onto the booster seat placed on the right. The bright orange flames decorating the fabric is a pretty strong indicator that Gojo bought this thing without consulting Megumi. Handing him back his backpack, you climb into the driver’s seat.
The drive is a lot more peaceful when you’re not racing against traffic lights and skating just under the speed limit. You think of the last time you were in this car—it was too long ago for you to be able to recall.
Stopped at a red light, you allow your eyes to wander a bit and explore the front dash. Gojo’s placed a small cat figurine in the corner, but aside from that, his car lacks much personality. The only other decorative piece he’s got is a small keychain hanging from the rearview mirror.
You eye it carefully, wondering why the fraying twine and colorful beads seem so familiar to you. It takes you some time to remember the bracelet you had gifted Gojo years ago, in fourth grade. You had spent recess with some other friends of yours, making friendship bracelets. When you went to give Gojo the bracelet you made for him, you were met with petty hostility.
He had been upset because you had ditched him, but his grievances were quickly forgotten as soon as you handed over his gift. He wore it every single day until he couldn’t anymore. When you asked about it, Satoru explained that the bracelet had come apart. You weren’t surprised: he wore it way too much and that thing was holding on thanks to a flimsy knot you put together as a chubby fingered nine-year-old.
You hadn’t expected him to keep it after that, let alone turn it into a keychain to hang in his car.
The fact that he had held onto it even after all these years makes your heart flip in a way that you know is dangerous. Tightening your grip on the steering wheel, you focus back on driving.
Once you’re back in the apartment, you decide to get started on making Megumi some kind of snack to tide him over until dinner rolls around. you watch him rummage around in his backpack, walking over to you with a piece of paper in his hand.
He tugs on your apron, handing you the paper without a single word of explanation. from a quick glance, you gather that it’s a drawing and you grin, “This is so cute, Megumi!”
Sure, you didn’t really see it yet, but he doesn’t need to know that. You have to foster creativity in children when they’re young in any way you can, even if it means lying sometimes.
You set aside some strawberries to dice, making a mental note to put the picture up on the fridge. Gojo has an abundance of random magnets from all the places he’s visited; might as well put them to good use.
When you grab the drawing off the counter, really take a look at what’s on it, you almost can’t believe it. For a moment, you wonder if you’re simply projecting your twisted hopes onto this kid’s art piece.
Megumi’s decided to draw himself, standing with his brows furrowed, next to a very long man who you can only assume to be Gojo, judging by the white hair and sunglasses. On megumi’s left, is someone in a blue sweater, shorter than gojo. It’s you.
There was clearly an attempt at drawing hands that fell apart into a jumble of squiggles but you get the idea: they’re all holding hands. At the top of the drawing, in large messy handwriting is the title.
“My Family.”
Megumi runs up to the counter, eyeing you carefully as you take in the drawing. You’re struck with the sudden urge to confess to Gojo, convince him to make this boy’s vision a reality. You think he deserves that much.
But your heart aches in a way it never has before—filled with this dreadful yearning for a man you know will never look at you the way you look at him.
The whispers in the back of your mind come together and someone flickers to life, like the flame appearing from a lighter.
“This is beautiful, Megumi,” you whisper, sticking it onto the fridge with a magnet advertising Las Vegas. Something malicious squeezes around your lungs, digging it’s claws into your heart but you gulp back the pain.
Megumi is none the wiser, nodding in agreement and waiting patiently for you to hand him his snack. He runs off, taking a seat on the couch and you watch him eat, realizing how sickeningly domestic this whole scene is.
You hate it.
Hours pass unceremoniously. Gojo barges in with a slam of the front door, practically shouting at the top of his lungs.
“There they are, my two favorite people!” he grins, kicking off his shoes. You close your laptop, leaving it on the couch as you get up just in time to dodge Gojo’s hug. He stumbles forward onto the couch where you were sitting previously.
While he grumbles about evil you are, you decide to grab the picture Megumi brought home. Once again, you’re struck by how domestic your actions are, and you hesitate.
Gojo, however, is already making his way over to you, holding Megumi captive in his arms. “What’s that?” he asks with a nod of his head.
You turn it around, holding it up to show him and you watch carefully as his eyes flicker from person to person. His grin falls into a gentle smile, somewhat guarded, and he uses his free hand to take the picture from you.
Megumi takes this opportunity to launch himself out of Gojo’s grasp, scurrying off to his room. Your eyes follow him as he disappears behind a wall. When you bring your attention back to Gojo, he’s stepped closer to you.
His stare is intense, unwavering, and it directly contrasts with the amused smile he wears. You don’t know what to think—in fact, you can barely think at all. The air is thick with tension, it presses down on your chest until you can barely breathe.
“It’s a perfect family, don’t you think?” he asks, his gaze softening as he looks down at the drawing. The atmosphere shifts but you still feel breathless, filled with this ache to wrap yourself around him.
“Yeah, it is,” you say, ever so quietly because you’re scared that anything louder would break this feeling. He’s so close, you could close the gap and kiss him right now.
There’s a crash, a large stack of books laying on the floor, papers scattered everywhere. Megumi stands next to it, eyes wide and terrified. His small hands curl into little fists and he takes a deep breath. “Didn’t mean to. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Megumi,” you reply, swiftly moving to his side. The moment is forgotten, the kiss never shared. “It was an accident.”
He nods, but he stares at you with watery eyes and your heart breaks. Scooping him up and into your arms, you walk him out onto the balcony. He tries not to cry, you let him know that it’s okay if he wants to.
Gojo remains standing in the kitchen, the drawing still in his hands. He stares at it for a long while, letting his mind wander to a world where it’s more than just a little kid’s silly art piece.
-: ✧ :-
You shove the last of your shirts into your suitcase, frowning at the way it bulges out when you zip it shut. It’s the week of Christmas, four days before the actual holiday, but you’re only just leaving to go back home.
Megumi’s on break, so is Gojo, so you’re not really needed. You wish you were—you miss both of them.
Setting the suitcase upright, you go down your checklist of things, making sure you packed everything. You still haven’t mentally prepared to see your extended family, knowing they’ll be chasing after you with questions about your dating life.
‘Have you gotten a boyfriend yet?’
‘Can we expect an engagement soon?’
‘Any plans for kids?’
It’s all horrible and invasive and you don’t get why any of that matters to them at all. It’s your life, your choices. If you’re not bringing it up yourself, there’s no need to hound you about it every single time you see them.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket from a message, and you’re unsurprised to see that it’s from Gojo.
gojo 🤑:
hey bbg 😳
you:
kys
what do u want
gojo 🤑:
what are ur christmas plans 🤔
You furrow your brows at the question, wondering why he asked at all. every single year, you always do the same thing.
you:
going home….
what else would i be doing genius
gojo 🤑:
LAMEEEEE
i was gonna ask if u wanted to come over ig
but whatever u hate me 😢😢😢
You finish off the conversation, letting him know that you do hate him, and that you need to get back to packing.
Knowing his circumstances, you know that Gojo is probably staying at home with Megumi. He can’t exactly weasel his way out of explaining the fact that he’s managed to adopt a kid. It’s most likely why he asked if you had plans, despite knowing that you do. You know he’s probably feeling lonely—it makes your heart twist and tear.
You fight the urge to ask him to join you as you drive home.
On Megumi’s birthday, Gojo proposes that you facetime him. You agree, obviously wanting to see the little boy who’s become so precious to you so quickly. The first thing Megumi does upon seeing your face is frown.
“Leave your family. I don’t like Gojo.”
You burst into laughter at the sight of your best friend’s face, jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and offense. Gojo launches into a rant about how Megumi is ungrateful, which only makes the situation funnier.
Megumi, however, finds none of this amusing.
“I love you, Megumi,” you say between breaths, “Happy birthday!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, but you catch a glimpse of his cheeks reddening as he runs off, leaving you with a still offended Gojo.
You watch him shuffle around, propping up his phone against something. “What’s your secret, huh? What do you have that I don’t?”
"I’m just better.”
Your smile must be infectious, Gojo ditching his deep frown for a grin of his own. His eyes crinkle as you’re met with the whites of his teeth, cheeks bunching up. You can’t stand the effect he has on you, the way you melt into nothing the moment he looks your way.
“I guess you and Megumi are just perfect for each other,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze through the call. “It’s cute.”
You’re stunned into silence at his genuine words, and your heart wrenches painfully as you picture the drawing Megumi came home with. Gojo ends the call quickly, telling you he’s busy. You don’t believe it but you let him leave, allowing yourself some space from him as well.
At one point, he frantically texts you letting you know that he forgot to get Megumi a gift, begging for ideas.
gojo 🤑:
I CANRT FINF HIS CHRISARMAS LIADT
ANWWER ME
THIAS IS AN EMERGYE
SOS
🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘
you:
OMFG
DO U HAVE AN OFF SWITCH
have u tried his room.
gojo 🤑:
omg look at u
my little genius 🥰
You stare at his messages, finding yourself wishing for his emoji keyboard to glitch out and break. The next text he sends you is a picture of Megumi’s wish list. You’re fairly certain that Megumi doesn’t believe in Santa, but it’s cute that he’s written a list anyway.
They’re all fairly normal: art supplies, animal books, toys you’ve never heard of. But what sticks out is the last bullet point, written neatly.
gojo 🤑:
he wants u to be his family
quick wrap urself up with a bow and mail urself to us 🎁
u would make a cute present 😘😘😘
You disregard Gojo’s texts for the time being, focused entirely on Megumi’s last wish. The fact that you appeared at all is shocking, considering the fact that you’ve only known him for a little over a week.
you:
yeah i’m wrapping myself up rn
gojo 🤑:
pics or it didnt happen 😋
You scoff out a laugh, typing up your response. Your mind is still dwindling on the wish list, on Megumi in general. He’s quickly taken up residence inside your heart and it feels good to know that you’ve been able to do the same.
Christmas passes slowly, filled with the overwhelming scent of cinnamon spice and heart-warming laughter. Of course, you didn’t escape the questions from your extended family. As usual, you brushed them off, eager to get out of the only conversation they seem to want with you.
But you like Christmas, and this year, it’s made better by the several pictures Gojo’s been sending you of him and Megumi. In one, they’re ice-skating. In another, they’re making a gingerbread house. It’s all typical Christmas activities but it warms your heart and you want nothing more than to be there with them.
You expect the rest of your holiday break to slip by, nothing special or new. You debated heading home earlier, but decided against it assuming most of your friends already have their respective plans.
You weren’t expecting Gojo to invite you to his New Year’s party. In fact, you weren’t expecting him to hold a party at all. As much as he likes parties, Gojo’s never one to throw one, especially at his place.
In retrospect, going was probably a bad idea. If only you knew that before you agreed.
-: ✧ :-
This kind of party is one you’re entirely unfamiliar with.
Most of the parties you’ve attended never exceeded over ten people, small gatherings of close friends clearing out their busy schedules to hang out together once again like they used to. These kinds of parties are relaxed, you don’t have to dress up, you don’t have to put up a front.
This New Year’s party is the kind that coaxes you into a simple black dress, perhaps too short, perhaps too low cut. This kind of party paints your lips a dark berry color that transfers onto your cup, filled with alcohol that burns as it slides down your throat.
This kind of party plays music so loud, it crawls under your skin, seeping into your head. You feel the bass reverberate throughout your chest, forcing your heart to beat faster like adrenaline coursing through your veins.
To say you feel out of your element would be a gross understatement. Everyone around you is almost a stranger, wearing features you only vaguely recognize, enough for you to shoot them a smile and a nod as a greeting.
You examine your hands as you stand leaning against a wall, watching people dance, laugh, shout. You’ve hidden yourself away in the dark (rather pathetic, you think), not knowing how to engage and not really wanting to either.
“I figured you’d be in some corner,” a gentle hand touches your elbow as Shoko squeezes herself past a small group of people to stand next to you.
You smile at her, grateful to find at least one familiar face. “You must not know me at all, Shoko, I love dancing with sweaty strangers.” Your sarcasm isn’t lost on her and she lets out a laugh, taking a drag from her cigarette.
You’re surprised that Gojo even let her smoke inside, but part of you feels like he’s unaware she’s doing it at all.
She blows out, tendrils of smoke twisting around you both, invading your senses. Shoko looks at you out of the corner of her eye, somewhat relaxed, very curious. “You’re still in love with Gojo?”
You blanch at her words, turning to face her though she remains, still regarding you through her peripheral.
“You’re too easy to read,” she smiles, her posture curved, allowing her to relax against the wall. “I’m surprised you’ve gone this long without telling him.”
It’s probably the alcohol impairing your judgment, but you frown, sighing into your cup. “My alternative is losing him forever, so I can’t exactly be picky.” You don’t intend on letting her into your thoughts this way, even if it’s only a sliver of the way you feel.
It would’ve been better to brush her off with a joke. Shoko doesn’t seem to care, humming, “ I don’t know, I think you’d be in for a surprise.”
“Well, I hate surprises.”
Time flies by but the night remains young. You’ve loosened up a bit thanks to the alcohol, laughing freely, no longer worried about your attire. Your two person party in the corner steadily grew, Nanami and Getou joining you after some time.
Gojo is still missing, but you suspect he’s out being a good host.
You’ve laid your head on Shoko’s shoulders, laughing at Nanami recounting stories from the tutoring he’s been busy with. Getou stands to your left, reaching out a hand towards you whenever you stumble slightly.
Your cup is empty and you make no moves to fill it again, not wanting to exit the good conversation you’re having. You like hearing Nanami talk about his work, hearing Shoko complain about her lab partner, and hearing Getou’s jokes.
The four of you decide to get some food in an attempt to sober up. It’s then that Gojo finally shows up. The crowd parts for him like he’s someone important. Thanks to the effects of the alcohol wearing off, you can tell it’s because he’s shouting his way through the crowd.
“Why are you losers hiding from the party?” he asks, shooting Shoko a glare when she takes a drag of her cigarette. She simply blinks at him, making no move to throw it out.
“Not hiding,” you respond, opening your mouth to bite down on the slice of pizza Getou’s trying to feed you. “Just eating.” Your words come out muffled thanks to the food. Getou shuffles his chair closer to your side.
Gojo lets his gaze settle on you, lips slightly parted as his eyes wander, taking in your dress and your half-opaque lipstick. You think you see his eyes widen, you can’t be sure. You think you see him almost gulp. You can’t be sure.
Gojo reluctantly tears his stare away from you, watching his friend closely, jaw clenched. His anger is only invisible to you, the sight causing Shoko to laugh (she marvels at your idiocy often). He grabs a chair and pushes it up right next to yours on the opposite side, arms crossed.
He sits silently, glaring at you and Getou, though you hardly notice. You’re too engrossed in whatever story Getou’s telling you. He reaches over to brush some hair out of your eyes; Gojo stands up abruptly, his hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Actually, I have some important news to tell you,” he says, words short and succinct as he drags you away from the table.
You’re too confused to stop him from pulling you all the way to the hallway that opens up into his bedroom. It’s only then that you wriggle free from his grip, staring at him, wondering what his problem is.
“What’re you–”
Your back is pressed against the wall, he stands a few steps in front of you. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are blown wide and you wonder who this man is—the worry creasing his forehead makes him seem lightyears away from the satoru you know.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks, the sentence stumbling out of his mouth like he wasn’t quite ready to say it. Gojo doesn’t give you the chance to answer him, already talking once again.
“Go you like Suguru?” he asks, taking a few steps closer, until he’s a hair’s width away from you.
The question is so out of left field, you’re forced to take a moment and process it. Gojo’s gaze hardens at your silence, and you stave off the urge to make a joke out of this situation. Uncertainty makes your stomach churn—you’ve yet to see your best friend like this.
There’s a crease between his brows, lips downturned but not quite a frown. His words still hang heavy in the air, broken jealousy rearing its ugly head. His hand loosens around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull away.
You take a deep breath, feeling like you’ve taken in all the air left between you and him. “No. No, I don’t,” you whisper, heart beating so fast you almost expect the muscle to burst within your chest.
Your admission makes his shoulders drop, the tense atmosphere almost melting away altogether. Gojo tightens his fingers around your wrist once more, bridging the gap between you both. He hovers above you, his free hand placed against the wall as he cages you against it.
Despite the years you’ve known him, sometimes you find it so hard to read him, understand his motivations. Gojo leans close, his breath fanning over your lips.
“So you just really like being mean to me,” he mutters and you furrow your brows, gnawing at your bottom lip.
“I haven’t said one mean thing to you all night, Satoru,” you say quietly, eyes downcast, avoiding his attentive stare. His eyes, as blue as the sky, still shimmer in the dark and you watch from beneath your lashes as they shift to a dulled luster.
Gojo drops his head into the crook of your neck, you can feel his lips move against your skin as he speaks, “There’s more than one way to be mean.”
Your breath is caught in your throat. He’s running his nose up your neck, smearing a kiss below your jaw. Your lack of resistance only emboldens him further and he kisses the same spot once again.
And you let him, gulping back the unpleasant feelings that float to the tip of your tongue because who are you to ruin this? On another night, you might have untangled yourself from him, walking away and creating necessary distance between you both.
But he’s exactly where you want him, where you’ve been longing for him.
So tonight, you simply mutter his name in warning, your voice cracking softly as he slides his hand around your waist. His touch burns, it's as though the material of your dress simply doesn’t exist under the weight of his palm.
Gojo presses his mouth to your ear. When he speaks, he sounds so resigned, almost like the woman that sits in your mind, taunting you with the possibility of everything unraveling. She licks at your wounds and her breath burns.
“I feel so…stupid when it comes to you,” he rasps out, pulling you closer. “You drive me crazy and I don’t know what to do–” he cuts himself off before he gets too deep into his rambling. Anticipation steadily rises up your chest, higher and higher and higher.
“It’s always been you,” Gojo says, letting you see his face once more. he leans over you, simply staring, the loud music fading away until it’s nothing but a beat behind the incessant thrum of your heart.
The woman makes herself apparent, hiding just behind your eyes, her words piercing your skin.
You gather the courage to really look at him, ignoring the way the woman in your head sighs, telling you it’s not worth it—telling you it’ll hurt. She tells you it’s only going to ache, and tear, and rip apart. You shake her away. his eyes have you trapped in them, drowning in his blue, your hands wrinkling the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t waver, shifting his gaze down to your lips.
“I love you,” he breathes out, his words so full of promise you nearly believe it. But then you remember where you are, you remember what you’ve been doing.
Your hands rest on his shoulders, feeling the cotton material of his shirt under your fingertips. “You can’t mean that,” you reply in a whisper.
The woman in your head shrieks at you until her voice turns hoarse and raw. You grab the collar of his shirt, closing the gap, your lips meeting his. Gojo fists the silk of your dress, creasing the material against his palm. Your trembling hand brushes along his cheek and he chases after your touch, tilting his head to the side, nose bumping against yours. He’s presses you into the wall, your spine meeting the cold plaster as goosebumps erupt down your arms.
The woman shouts, the woman regrets. The woman tells you you’re making a mistake but she’s inevitably drowned out by the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Gojo brings his hand up to your jaw, fingers squeezing desperately. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, he steals your breath away.
A fire festers in the pit of your stomach, it’s flames fueled by his touch, his warmth, everything him. It curls into a burning in your chest. Insatiable greed drives Gojo to take you into his arms, your feet stumbling against each other’s as you make your way into his room.
Your back hits his comforter, you pull him closer.
The woman sits silently and weeps.
-: ✧ :-
You wake up with a dull pounding behind your eyes and a painful silence inside your mind. Warmth envelops you as you twist and turn under Gojo’s heavy blankets—it’s reminiscent of an earlier time.
Beams of sunlight force your eyes open and you prop yourself up, elbows sinking into Gojo’s expensive mattress. Cradling your head in your hand, you take in your surroundings: the stark white sheets, Gojo’s sleeping figure next to you.
You watch him sleep for several moments, marveling at the fact that Gojo is asleep at all. He’s always had trouble with insomnia, seeing him rest so peacefully makes you smile.
You let your gaze sweep over his face, pressed into the pillow, messy hair obscuring his eyes. His shoulders are bare, and if last time taught you anything, it’s that Gojo has no problem with appearing borderline naked in front of you.
Scoffing, you turn to check the nightstand for your phone, pausing when a cold draft seems to linger over your arms and chest a bit stronger than usual. A pile of fabric resting against the mahogany floors catches your eye, and you stare at it blankly before everything begins to fall into place.
Your fragmented memories connect, the night floods back to you, knocking the air from your lungs.
Your dress on the floor, the very obvious smear of berry colored lipstick against his jaw. Your incredibly apparent lack of clothing.
Panic digs into your chest. The woman comes into view once more, her unwavering gaze staring at you with contempt. She crawls out of your chest, standing before you, several heads taller.
‘You messed everything up,’ she seethes. Your heart beats faster. ‘He’ll never want to see you again,’ she says, her words stinging like a slap. It becomes harder to breathe.
You don’t stick around to see what else she has to say, grabbing your dress off the floor with shaky hands. You pull it back on messily, grabbing your phone, rushing out of his bedroom as tears cling to your lashes.
Thankfully, everyone seems to have cleared out of the apartment.
You don’t allow yourself to think, opening up the front door, rushing down the stairwell until you’re standing in the lobby of his apartment building. It’s too cold—they always crank up the air conditioning even if it’s the middle of winter.
The lady behind the desk looks at you with pity. You suppress the urge to vomit. Tears stream down your cheeks, trailing along your chin before they fall. You know you must look a mess. You wonder where else you left your berry colored lips.
You call Shoko; she’s hungover when she picks up but she hears the pain in your voice and she hears you bite back your tears. She’ll be there soon, she promises and you stand, waiting.
You sit in her car, staring out the window. She tries to make you feel better by playing your favorite songs—it doesn’t do much to help. The song reminds you of Megumi.
The thought of Megumi sends you spiraling further. How can you face Megumi after this? How can you face Gojo? He might not remember, but you always will. You’ll always remember the warmth of his hands, the way he held you near like you were everything.
The woman tells you you’re sick.
Shoko eyes you, taking in your tear-stained face. You don’t want her pity either, digging your nails into your palm as hard as you can. She’s stopped at a red light and she reaches over to take your hand in hers.
“You have to figure out where you both stand,” she says, calm and rational as always. Sometimes, you wish she could see things the way you do. You wish she could hear the woman who haunts you.
“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the seat. The car starts moving again. “I don’t want to.” Your stomach churns, an awful mixture of anxiety and hurt rolling up your throat.
You slept with Gojo.
You feel sick. The woman slices at you with her knives. ‘You don’t deserve him at all.’
Shoko white knuckles the steering wheel. She never takes kindly to your tears, it took you a while to figure out that it’s because she cares too much to see you cry.
“You should confess. It’ll be good for your heart and mind,” she suggests as you see your apartment come into view. You’re not ready to be left alone with the woman. The cuts from her knives are still fresh, they still bleed.
You shake your head ever so slightly. “No,” you reply, selfishness motivating your choices more than anything. “I’m going to pretend I don’t remember—I’ll act like I was too drunk to remember.”
Shoko disagrees with you, and she lets you know as much as she can before you’re getting out of her car, walking towards your apartment. Your dress feels too short, you tug it down. The sunlight burns your scalp and you rush indoors.
As soon as you kick off your heels, Gojo texts you. Your phone is nearly dead and you debate putting off responding, excusing yourself with the fact that your phone ran out of power. You grow too curious, though, and you read his message.
gojo 🤑:
hey when did u get home?
The striking lack of emojis makes the text feel impersonal, far from the man you know. The woman laughs at you.
‘He hates you.’
you:
shoko picked me up
You pause, debating whether you should add more. Let him know that you don’t remember, let him know that you believe nothing happened.
you:
i rly went overboard on the alcohol ig
i barely remember anything
You watch the bubble indicating he’s typing appear and disappear. Your nerves fizzle and buzz, teeth sinking into your lips until you draw blood. ‘He hates you,’ the woman whispers.
gojo 🤑:
yeah me too lol
You hate it.
You’re reading into it too much, you think, but the woman says no. Her lithe fingers encircle your arms, her sadness turning you sick. You agonize over your words, agonize over his texts. You can’t face Gojo. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to see Megumi again.
‘You’re selfish,’ the woman sneers, watching you tremble. ‘Do you think you deserve to see him?’
‘What would he think of you?’
‘You’ve lost both of them.’
‘You should’ve listened to me.’
You don’t know what to say to her. She draws her arm back and strikes you.
-: ✧ :-
The following day, Gojo informs you that Megumi asked for you to babysit him.
You had decided you would say no, for your own sake. The woman agreed so it must be the right choice. But then he tells you that Megumi’s insisting—that he misses you—and how can you say no?
So you sit on the couch, right next to Megumi as he reads from his new book (a Christmas present from Gojo). He’s laying against you, his head resting against your arm. Neither you, nor Gojo, have said a single word to each other.
It feels wrong, this silence that fills the room. It feels heavy. It keeps its palms pressed tightly against your lips, keeping your words trapped inside. You wonder if Megumi can feel it too.
Reaching over, you gently brush some of his hair out of his eyes and he stills, turning around to look up at you. His eyes are wide, they waver as they flicker between you and Gojo.
“Did you guys fight?”
You notice the way he wraps his arms around himself, as if to soothe. He takes a long breath. Megumi’s eyes widen and you realize that he’s scared.
You rush to explain, “No! No, we didn’t fight.” He doesn’t seem to believe you; Gojo walks over to you both, taking a seat next to him.
“We’re just tired, Megumi,” he tells him, a hand rubbing circles into his back. You feel terrible.
‘This is all your fault,’ the woman whispers.
It’s silent again as Gojo shuffles around, getting ready to leave for his Model UN meeting. He stands at the doorway, looking at you for a moment. You can’t read him, he doesn’t explain. Gojo waves goodbye and leaves.
You watch Megumi read for a few minutes more, the aftertaste of the previous conversation still lingering on your tongue. He must feel your stare, looking up from his book.
“You’re my favorite person ever,” he admits—he sounds completely serious. You’re taken aback by his honesty, your heart melting as a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth. You reach forward, opening your arms out for a hug. Megumi quickly wraps his arms around you.
His hands cling to the fabric of your shirt, “If you did fight with Gojo, please forgive him. Don’t leave.”
‘Look what you’ve done,’ the woman says, the weight of her words make you feel like you’re drowning.
"I won’t leave you,” you reply, ignoring the woman and her hurt. Megumi looks back at you, holding out his pinky for you. You wrap your own around his much smaller one, “Pinky promise.”
You let him rest his head against your chest, your steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep. The woman reminds you how undeserving you are of what you have. You know the woman is right.
When Gojo gets home, he asks if you’d like to stay for dinner. Every single part of you wants to say yes, and it’s at the tip of your tongue, the answer is habitual. But this time, you turn him down. You can’t stay longer—you can’t be around him. You slip out the front door before you can see the twinkle in his eyes diminish until it’s gone.
You get home, lay on the carpeted floor of your bedroom, and call Shoko. She tells you to confess or die. You tell her you’d rather die.
‘It would be for the best,’ the woman snickers.
-: ✧ :-
There’s a growing tension between you and Gojo as of late, clearly the result of what happened at the New Year’s party. You keep on acting as though you don’t remember the way he loved you, but it gets harder to do so the more you see him.
You can’t avoid him, you’d be breaking your promise to Megumi.
Everything left unsaid lingers in the distance you keep with him, and it unsheathes it’s claws, digging into you and tearing you apart. Your relationship with Gojo is strained. It hurts because he’s your best friend.
The woman reminds you that there’s no one to blame but yourself.
She hasn’t left you alone since the night of the party, tied to you like some kind of curse. She appears in the mirror when you criticize yourself, egging you on to say worse things. She stands by your side when you make a mistake, degrading you until you feel like nothing.
She’s having the time of her life. You just can’t get rid of her. She’s right about you.
This time, as you stand waiting for Megumi, his school is decorated in a plethora of pinks, reds, and whites. Valentine’s Day is swiftly approaching and it fills you with a kind of bitterness you keep hidden.
Cupid’s arrows might have missed you this year, but there’s always the next.
Part of you realizes that it’s your own fault, waiting for Gojo to step up and say something. When that failed you, you waited for your feelings to disappear. Perhaps, you should have taken some initiative, forced those feelings out of you until every last remaining bit is ripped from your heart.
Your loneliness is your own doing. The woman laughs in agreement, your pain is nothing but a joke to her. Her laughter, however, is hollow and doesn't meet her eyes.
Megumi runs up to you as he often does, pulling you from your thoughts. The woman hides away to watch. He hands you a little heart shaped box and a card.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Megumi grumbles, walking off ahead of you to get to the car. You smile down at the chocolates and the handmade card. Something tender and sweet fills up your chest—you feel lighthearted.
‘Do you deserve this?’ the woman snarls, reaching out to knock your gifts out of your hands. You hold them away from her poisonous touch.
Megumi holds onto your index finger as you lead him up the stairwell to Gojo’s apartment. You’re surprised to find him inside instead of at class, like he should be. He grins at you and Megumi as you both walk inside, his eyes dropping to the card and chocolates in your hand.
You watch as he stands up, stretching his arms up. His shirt rides up around his waist, you turn away faster than light.
“You got her something for Valentine’s but nothing for your old man?” he asks, grabbing Megumi so that he can plant a kiss on the boy’s chubby cheek.
“You suck and she doesn’t.”
“You are so cruel.”
Your relationship with Gojo remains rocky, but times like these still make you yearn for that domestic life. Sometime in the future, you hope you get to have this.
Gojo lets Megumi disappear into his room, watching you sink into the couch. He follows suit, sitting down next to you. He leaves too much space between you, like there’s an invisible wall keeping him out.
“Valentine’s Day is coming up,” he says, though you don’t know what for. You want to say that you know, that it doesn’t matter to you unless you’re spending the day with him.
“Yeah, but why would I care?” you reply, laughing though the sound comes out bitter and hurt. He grins at you, tilting his head.
“Who knows? Maybe you have a secret admirer.”
You stay quiet for a moment, thinking about what he had said. Secret admirer or not, you’re confident it wouldn’t be the person you want. Gojo has better things to do, probably has someone to see. What would he want with you?
Why would he even look your way? You’re his best friend—that’s where you have remained for 14 years and it’s where you’ll remain for as long as you know him.
The woman sits to your left, reaching out her hand to smooth down your hair. Her gesture appears comforting but anxiety swirls deep within you at her touch.
‘Don’t let him know how you feel,’ she whispers in warning.
“So? I don’t care. I don’t like anyone right now, a secret admirer would mean nothing to me.”
“Oh.”
You face him then, taking in the soft frown he wears. His jaw is clenched, brows furrowed. The blue of his eyes, your favorite blue, lacks it’s usual sparkle. His shoulders hunched over; Gojo looks like a wounded animal. He looks tired.
As soon as he notices your stare, he straightens up and gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He stays quiet for the rest of the night and you can’t help but feel it’s your fault. You remind yourself he’s tired, but the woman tells you that he must have remembered the events from the party.
You leave his house sooner than you would have liked. Gojo says goodbye with a hug, his arms squeezing you tight, pressing you to his chest until you can hear his heart beating.
-: ✧ :-
You feel like Valentine’s Day crept up on you too quickly, like you had blinked and suddenly the world is celebrating their lovers.
It’s sunny and warm, the usual chill of February replaced with a gentle breeze that feels soft against your cheek and in your hair. Like it’s mother nature’s gentle caress letting you know that you’ll be fine today.
The woman stays quiet.
You walk along the sidewalk in front of your apartment building. You had woken up today expecting something at you front door, perhaps from a secret admirer like Gojo had suggested. Nothing came.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth, your chest tightening, but you got over it as fast as it came. You refuse to fester in hurt, even if the woman fans the flames of your pain.
Blinking up at the sun, you watch the old couple across the street walk arm in arm. The old man had gotten his wife a bouquet of her favorite flowers (you know they’re her favorite because she told you so). She’s wearing a new heart pendant around her neck. Their hands remain intertwined as they head down.
You silently plead for your chance at love.
Today, Megumi’s spending the day at Nanami’s house, along with a few of the kids he tutors. You’ve been absolved of your babysitting responsibilities. You miss the little boy, though.
You’re only a few minutes into your walk when you phone buzzes with a text from Gojo.
gojo 🤑:
ur not busy today right??????
lets go for a drive bbg 😉
you:
i wish i never met you.
You hardly mean it. Rather, you’re incredibly relieved that he’s back to his usual self, using horrible emojis to spice up his texts. You hate to admit it but you missed him.
Maybe you were pathetic for spending Valentine’s Day with your crush, a man who remains just out of your reach. You don’t dwell on it as you climb into Gojo’s car, even when the woman bares her teeth at you.
Gojo plays sickeningly romantic music as he drives, making fun of you for spending valentine’s day with him instead of a boyfriend. You’re quick to remind him that he’s in the same position. He falls silent but you notice that the shine in his sky blue eyes are back. You hope, this time, that it’s here to stay.
He parks a few feet away from a playground, the structures old and somewhat rusty. You realize that it’s the playground where you both first met each other.
Gojo runs over to your side, opening the door for you. He walks next to you, his shoulder brushing yours, your fingers aching to be held by him. You let him pull you to the spot where his mother took a picture of both of you 14 years ago.
It’s certainly strange being back here.
You hear him take a deep breath. Gojo’s facing forward, seemingly entranced by the swing-set in front of him. You don’t take notice of his shaky hands.
“You were the prettiest girl I had ever seen,” he says finally, breathing deeply once again. “Actually– I thought you were the prettiest girl in the whole world.”
“What are you talking about?” you ask with a soft laugh, utterly confused as to what he’s up to. Gojo doesn’t respond, he just keeps going.
“I ran into you on purpose, if I’m being honest. I thought we could become friends and then I’d get to be around you all the time.”
Gojo reaches out his hand, hesitating as he thinks. The woman stays quiet when he takes your hand in his own. “But then you basically told me to fuck off–”
“I did not! I said go away or something.”
“Thats basically what kids say when they want to say ‘Fuck off’!”
He laughs, the sound warming your heart. Soft tendrils of sun peek through the canopy of the tree you stand under, making him glow and shine. He appears almost ethereal.
“I was glad we got to be friends,” he mutters, his grip around your fingers getting tighter. “But nowadays, I kind of wish we weren’t.” Your heart stills and the woman opens her mouth for the first time today, conjuring up her ugly words.
“You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Gojo admits, his hand growing clammy but you barely notice it. “You’ll stay that way for the rest of my life—even when we’re old and wrinkly.”
“How sweet,” you grin, but it’s a front to hide the way he tugs at your heart, gentle hands keeping you in his grasp; it’s where you’ll stay for as long as he’ll have you. However, you still find yourself to be guarded, hesitant about Gojo and his words.
The woman tells you it’s not what you think it is. Her past misfortunes flood your mind, her sadness is contagious.
Gojo finally faces you, taking both your hands in his. His eyes watch you carefully and you wonder if he can see through them, see the woman waiting inside, hurt and scared.
“I know you said you don’t have feelings for anyone,” he starts, looking to the side. You can feel his heart beating at his fingertips. “And I’m probably the last person you want to hear this from, but I owe it to you.
“I love you,” he sighs and it feels like taking a breath of relief. Gojo searches your eyes, vivid cerulean brighter than the sun itself. You reach forward, hands on either side of his face. You tremble and you shake—you can’t believe this is real.
He seems to understand, instinctively letting his hands rest against your hips.
“Love you too,” you say, unadulterated joy lighting up your chest and your eyes. Your smile is blinding, cheeks hiding your eyes. Gojo steps closer while he pulls you against his chest. His heart is racing, but it could be your own that you’re feeling. You’re not quite sure where he ends and you begin.
He cups your cheek, his touch soft and light. “Can I kiss you now? I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the party.”
You tense at the mention of the party, but you nod your head and shove that night out of your mind. You can shelve that conversation for later.
Gojo leans forward with your nod, pulling you towards him. Your lips meet, gently at first, like you’re both unsure of how to go about it. He’s hesitant without alcohol to grant him courage, but as you wrap your arms around his neck, he grows bolder.
Gojo pours every last bit of his desire for you, his yearning for you, past his lips. You can feel him grin, and it pulls a smile from you too.
You have him exactly where you want him.
When you return home, hand in hand, Megumi perks up at the sight of you both. Getou sits next to him, assigned to pick him up from Nanami’s place after Gojo decided to meet up with you.
Getou raises an eyebrow at your hand held tightly in Gojo’s, your head resting against his shoulder. “What did i miss?”
“Nothing at all,” you reply, holding out an arm for megumi as he runs into your embrace.
The woman simply smiles.
-: ✧ :-
Gojo watches you sleep, chest rising and falling steadily, your soft breaths being the only sound in the room. He sits and he admires and he’s struck with the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. Gojo wishes he could tell you everything he feels for you, but his emotions are often illegible jumbles of yearning, want, desire, and love—he just can’t put it into words.
He knows you’re it for him. He hopes you feel the same.
Gojo leans over and grabs the plastic water bottle left on his nightstand, the plastic crinkling. He winces, hoping it’s not loud enough to wake you. You remain sleeping and he smiles, fishing the small ring of plastic from the top of the bottle.
It’s big, the real one will be tailored to your size, he thinks as he takes your hand. His touch is gentle as he slides the plastic ring onto your ring finger, watching it hang loosely.
“This’ll do for now,” he decides. the real one will be much prettier, but not grand. A shiny band with a few rhinestones– no, your birthstone. Maybe his too but he feels that might be too tacky.
Gojo lays back down, curling around you until his head is hidden in the crook of your neck. He hopes you’ll like it. He hopes you’ll say yes.
He’s always loved you. For him, it’s always been you.
thanks to mitzi and earth and six for hyping this monstrosity up so glad its not rotting away in my drafts anymore
“upon learning that your new plug is a virgin, you come up with a new way to pay for your weed”
cw: slight dubcon (sex under the influence), virginity loss (choso), car sex, corruption kink, unprotected sex, blowjobs
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
You met Choso through your little sister's friend.
Without knowing Megumi and Yuji were over, you started ranting to Nobara about how your plug was moving across the country, and it was a travesty. When she gave you edibles, she packed them in cute little heart baggies, and you were never gonna find another one as good as her.
It wasn't until you turned the corner that you saw her and her two friends lounging on the couch.
Luckily, Yuji spoke up, telling you his brother grows and you could get from him.
That got you his number, and having known Yuji, you expected his brother to be a much more enthusiastic texter. You hardly expected one- to two-word responses, absolutely no emojis, and a period at the end of a sentence.
But if it got you what you wanted, you were fine with that.
Most transactions were made through Yuji or Nobara, and despite the lack of customer service that you got from your old plug, his stuff was good, so you couldn't complain.
Then, one day, Yuji messaged you, saying he was having a party at his place and you should come meet his brother. You didn't see why not, so you and Nobara got dressed up together and went.
It was unsurprising that there were a lot of people—Yuji loved making friends, after all—so it took a minute to find him. But he had a wide smile when he saw you two, giving you hugs and telling you his brother was in the garage.
You didn't have to excuse yourself cause your sister was already gone by the time you turned back, so you made your way to the garage.
Inside, there was only one person. A taller man with longer hair who was taking stuff out of the trunk of a car, and when he turned to you, you noticed his tired eyes looking at you. He was cute.
"What?" He asked.
"Choso?" You asked, and he nodded. You smiled a bit and said, "Y/N."
A look of recognition flashed across his face.
"Yuji told me you'd be coming." He then lifted the box in his arms slightly, as if to show you the alcohol. "Leave it to my brother to think a six-pack would be enough for a party."
You couldn't help the amused hum that passed your lips as your gaze traced the strained muscles in his arms.
"Want some help?"
After the two of you brought in a couple cases of liquor, you followed him back to the garage. Besides your sister and her friends, you didn't know anyone, and you figured at least Choso would have some weed on him if nothing else.
He leaned against his car and fished a lighter out of his pocket before looking at you and holding it up as an invitation. You smiled and moved to stand in front of him as he took out a case from his other pocket, placing the joint from inside between his lips.
"You don't wanna hang out with your brother?" You asked as he lit it.
Choso just raised an eyebrow at you, blowing out the smoke slowly and drawing your eyes to his lips.
"You don't wanna hang out with your sister?" He retaliated casually, holding out the blunt for you.
With a couple puffs of your own, you shift your weight onto your other leg. Choso's soft gaze stays on you, waiting for you to continue.
"Why smoke out here?" You asked, and he shrugged.
"Not a fan of people." He explained, and you gave him a look. He shakes his head, "don't make it seem like I'm a loner; I just don't wanna hang out with my younger brother's friends."
"Not a fan of younger people?" You don't give him time to answer before you say, "pretty sure I'm younger than you."
"You're fine." It's casual in the way he says it, but it does something to you, and you end up shifting again when he hands you the blunt.
His eyes flicked down to your legs, taking notice of your movement. "Wanna sit?"
Choso patted the hood of the car beside him as an offer, and you looked at his fingers sitting on top of the metal. They were long and lanky, with prominent veins running through his hand and up his arm. It led you back to his face, which is waiting for your answer.
So you hopped on top of the hood, taking one more puff than is courteous, but Choso didn't say anything as he took it back.
It was a couple minutes of silence; the two of you smoked until it was just the filter, and Choso threw it away. You started to feel the familiar feeling of your head becoming heavier—or, you were just more aware of the weight of it—and you sank back onto your hands with contentment.
"So, were you just here for the weed?" Choso's voice was pretty monotone, but you could tell he was making a joke.
A small giggle escaped your lips as you noticed the red creeping up in his tired eyes.
"I mean, I won't say no if you wanna share another, but I think hanging out with you is fine by itself." You admitted, and he shook his head at you.
A couple blinks was all it took to remind you that he really did grow some good shit, and you grabbed the bottom of his shirt to tell him the compliment when you looked up at his face and forgot your train of thought.
Instead, you tugged on his shirt and coaxed him to stand in front of you as you tilted your head up at him.
"You don't look like what I thought you would." You drawled out.
"What'd you expect?" He prompted.
You pouted, "pink hair."
Choso let out a soft chuckle, and you almost melted at the sight of his smile. Unintentionally, you leaned closer to him, your eyes focused on the bridge of his nose, where you noticed a faint scar that ran across it. With your noses almost touching, you looked up into his eyes, admiring the way they locked onto you.
"You're hotter than I thought." You mumbled, and his eyebrows raised slightly.
Choso pulled back.
"If you think this'll get you free stuff, you're outta luck."
You giggled and let go of his shirt, leaning back onto your hands with a lazy smile.
"I'd tell you that even if you weren't my plug." You said. "Though, I'm sure a lot of your customers offer favours instead of money."
Once again, he shook his head at you, his smile mirroring yours. You let your head fall back, feeling the stretch in your neck as you stared at the ceiling.
"Wouldn't blame you, sex while high is incredible."
"I wouldn't know." He said and you snapped your head at him.
"You've never had sex after smoking?"
He raised an eyebrow at you, and you understand what he was saying.
"You've never had sex?" You clarified, and Choso shakes his head in agreement, unbothered by it.
"Never had the time." He explained, and at the back of your clouded mind, you recalled Nobara mentioning that Yuji was raised by his older brother.
You slid off the car, standing toe to toe with Choso as you looked up at him. He didn't move, and you could smell his cologne and soft hints of weed.
"Do you wanna know what it's like?" You whispered, gazing up at him through your lashes.
The thought that you could give this man everything made that small pulse of arousal that's been sitting between your legs light on fire. As you stared into Choso's eyes, a mischievous smile played on your lips. The anticipation of what you could do with him sent a rush of excitement through your body.
Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Choso bent down and attached his lips to yours.
He tasted smokey, but it didn't bother you as you brought your hands up into his messy hair. His large hands travelled down your sides and roughly pulled you closer to him. Your knee bumped between his legs, and he uttered a deep moan into your mouth.
Detaching yourself from him, you grabbed his shirt and tugged him to switch places with him, pushing his legs into the hood of his car and forcing him to sit atop it.
Your hands then moved to his jeans as you kissed him again, undoing the button and zipper as you bit his lips. Choso let out a little whine, shakey fingers grasping at your own shirt when you stuck your hand down his pants and cupped his half-hard cock. As you stroked him, you scattered kisses and bites down his neck and along his jaw, leaving nothing to catch the hisses he let out of his mouth in response to your attack. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as his breathing grew heavier. The intensity of the moment heightened as you whispered in his ear, teasing him with promises of what was to come.
Then you sank your knees onto the concrete floor between his legs, pulling down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his cock and balls, your mouth watering at the size.
As you looked up into his eyes, you gently licked his red tip and watched him shut his eyes in pleasure, his hand coming to the top of your head. Then you took him to the back of your throat, eliciting a loud and wanton moan from the man above you. Despite slapping his other hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, you felt a shiver at the noise, knowing that you were driving him wild with something so simple. With each movement of your mouth, you could feel his grip on your hair tighten, urging you to go deeper. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you lost yourself in the intoxicating pleasure of giving him ecstasy. His dick was slobbered with your spit, and besides the faint music coming from the house, the garage was filled with the disgusting sounds of you slurping and choking on his cock and Choso's beautiful stuttering noises of bliss.
Your eyes rolled back at the taste of him; the salty precum and weight of his dick on your tongue had you rocking your neglected pussy into your heel. When his moans and whimpers started to catch at the back of his throat, you cupped his heavy balls in your hands, gently massaging them as you continued to pleasure him. The intensity of the moment heightened as you felt his body tense and his breathing become more erratic, signalling that he was about to cum. With a mischievous smile, you increased the speed and pressure of your movements, determined to push him over the edge and make him lose control completely.
The grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking uncontrollably against your touch. The raw desire in his eyes fueled your own excitement, and you revelled in the power you had over him in the moment. As he finally reached his climax, you continued to stroke him through his release, savouring the feeling of his pulse against your tongue and his cum running down your throat.
His tired eyes were glazed with lust when you popped him out and stood up. His chest was breathing heavily, but that didn't stop him from grabbing your face and pulling you into a searing kiss, licking up the drops of his cum that slipped from your lips. You moaned at his eagerness to clean his own grime from your face and ran your hands down his clothed body, fingernails scraping along his muscles as they twitched.
"Please," He begged between kisses. "Please fuck me."
You pulled away, looking at the man in front of you with hunger.
"Back seat." You commanded, and Choso listened to you.
The two of you stumbled to the car, pawing at each other as you removed your clothes. By the time you shut the door behind you, the two of you were in your underwear. Choso was hard once again as you mounted him.
Taking off your bra, his eyes locked onto your tits before eagerly going for them with his mouth. but you grabbed his hair and pulled him back. He nearly whimpered at the denial, but you were firm.
"I need to see your face when I take your virginity, baby." You told him.
Choso nodded his head and helped you two rid yourself of the last bit of clothing. Grabbing his cock, you lined it up with your soaking lips as Choso's fingers fluttered over your hips in anticipation. You looked at him, only to find his watery eyes locked on your pussy as he swallowed harshly. You were sure that if you led him on any longer, he would start crying.
"Choso," your sweet voice cooed.
When he locked eyes with yours, you sheathed yourself over his cock, watching firsthand as his mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled back as a broken moan pushed past his lips. It was filthy and erotic, and it made you lift your hips and slam back down onto him just to see his reaction again. His body trembled beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him. The intensity of the moment fueled your own desire, igniting a primal need to dominate and explore every inch of his body.
"That feel good, baby?" You asked, knowing he couldn't answer. "Feel good to get fucked in the back of your car?"
Choso whimpered.
You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, as you whispered, "You love being used like this for your first time, don't you?"
The sound of his desperate moans only fueled your attack further, pushing you to take him even harder.
"Your cock feels so good inside me, Choso." You continued to enjoy his reactive body. "so big, I don't think I can just fuck you once."
In his first bout of control, Choso grabbed the back of your head and shut you up with a kiss, hips lifting against yours in desperation.
"So fucking perfect." He managed to huff out, and you rewarded him with a squeeze of your pussy, making him lose the rhythm of his thrusts. The intensity of the moment heightened as Choso's grip tightened on your head, his kiss silencing your words. With each desperate thrust of his hips, he struggled to maintain the little bit of control he had.
He managed to gasp, overcome with the pleasure you were giving him, "You're absolutely incredible." The squeeze of your pussy caused him to lose his rhythm, further intensifying the passion between you.
You smiled wickedly and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"Yea?" You asked. "Wanna cum inside me?"
It was as if a switch had been flipped. His eyes darkened with desire, and a primal growl escaped his lips. Without hesitation, he grasped your hips firmly and increased the pace, thrusting into you with an urgency that matched your own. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and you let out your own noises of pleasure at Choso's actions.
Feeling your climax near, you dug your nails into his bare chest, urging him on. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you reached the peak of pleasure together, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy. Spurts of his cum painted the inside of you, making you moan at the feeling before collapsing against him, sweaty bodies entangling. For a long moment, heavy breathing was the only sound in the hot car. As the air slowly cooled, you both basked in the afterglow.
With a satisfied smile, Choso gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and whispered, "That was incredible."
You breathed out a laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and cuddling into him.
"Yea," you agreed. "We need to smoke together more often."
GOJO W THE MAKING OUT COVERTLY DURING A MISSION TROPE PLSSSPLSPLS
contains: fem reader, third-year Gojo(19), accidental recording, inexperienced reader & Gojo, getting caught, exhibitionism, thigh riding, clothed hand job, Gojo cums in his pants, making out, dirty talk, sexual tension
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
Your chest was pressed to Gojo's, the air in the room stuffy and hot as you tried to shuffle your bodies around, trying to give each other some room to breathe. The recorder clipped to Gojo's chest was probably suffocating with the loud rubbing of your clothes against him. "Just- fuck- scoot that way- ouch no- the other way-" You whispered into the small space, thanking the universe for the darkness of the stuffy closet, saving you the embarrassment of Gojo's teasing if he saw how red your face was.
--
Yaga had sent the two of you on a mission together, the objective--get recorded proof of a certain suspected jujutsu high assistant leaking crucial information to curse users. Gojo was a third year now, just having had his nineteenth birthday, and he was more than capable of handling missions on his own. However, Yaga absolutely did not trust Gojo with such a mission on his own, the young man always returned to the school with hundreds of thousands of property damage under his belt for the school to deal with.
This wasn't exactly the type of mission one could just bust in the room and take everybody down, it was a stealth mission, which Gojo was absolutely not equipped for. You weren't at the stage where you could take on a mission by yourself, but Yaga knew how great you were at calming a young and cocky Satoru down, which is how you ended up coming on this assignment with the white-haired man.
The two of you had made your way without a hitch to the meeting point, Gojo quick on your tail as he practically bounced with joy behind you, strolling with you through the dimly lit building. "Ahh~ This is sooo much fun, when's the last time we got sent on a mission together?" he asked, poking his head out in your peripheral vision. "This isn't supposed to be fun, Satoru. Do you know how much I liked Ms. Yae? I cant believe shes a traitor." You whispered.
Gojo pulled his head back, pursing his lips together as his long legs easily kept up with your fast pace. "Hmm.. I don't know if I ever knew her, but I guess it does suck, yeah.. but try to see the good in this~ You get to spend an entire mission with me~" He giggled behind you, too loudly for your liking. You stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him, "Satoru, she was our driver for the entirety of our first AND second year, and be quiet, you're talking too loud."
Gojo pouted, tilting his head at you, "Rude, I am not-" A door squeaking open around the corner followed by two people talking interrupted Gojo, as did your hand that you quickly pressed agaisnt his lips, shutting him up. You held your breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. You felt Gojo smile behind your hand at how panicky you were at such a thing.
Your heart sped up in your chest when their footsteps started to echo in the hall, coming closer to where the two of you stood. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath, your hand leaving Gojo's mouth as you whipped your body around, trying to think of somewhere to hide. Gojo didn't fully understand how to teleport to long distances yet, but he could've easily moved the two of you to another floor. Of course, he would do no such thing though, he was having a great time watching you scurry around like a mouse in a maze.
"That's not good~" He whispered, giggling under his breath. You set your eyes on a door only a few feet away, from the outside it looked like an entrance to a fairly spacious room too; perfect for eavesdropping on their conversation. "Cmere," You whispered to Gojo, taking his large hand in yours you dragged him towards the door, trying to move as quickly as possible as it sounded like the footsteps were getting closer and closer.
You swung the door open, the old hinges making a loud squeak that made you cringe as you threw Gojo's body into the space and closed the door on yourself as quick as you could. You didn't expect your back to come into contact with a hard surface, covering the entirety of your back. "Hu-?" You felt a pair of warm hands grab your waist, gripping you softly. "Woah~ If you wanted a little more privacy you shoulda just said so~" Gojo cooed, tipping his head at you, even though you couldn't see him in the pitch blackness.
Upon further inspection as you pushed his hands off of your waist, ignoring the heat of your face, you found there were dry mop heads and brooms around you, something that felt like a jacket was hanging behind Gojo, and something; presumably a mop bucket; was sat at the back of the small space, limiting the already small surface area the two of you had to share.
"Fuck, we're in a closet." You whispered out loud, more to yourself than to the man you were pressed agaisnt. "Ooh really? How did you figure that out~?" Gojo teased. A quiet 'oww' spilled from the man's lips when you swung your arm in his general direction. God you did not need this right now, Gojo might be cocky, rude, overall obnoxious, and loud, but you have been harboring the biggest crush on him for a year. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a closer with him, your ass pressed against his crotch, in a high-risk situation.
You tried not to think about how good he smelled; expensive was the first word that came to mind. It was already obnoxiously hot in the closet, and all the blood rushing to your face didn't help the feeling of suffocation one bit.
You spun your body around, pressing your hands to his chest so you no longer had to feel his crotch against you, figuring this way would be less embarrassing. "Ooh is this like seven minutes in heaven? Shoko told me about this game once, you got a timer on you?" Gojo joked. You could feel his fingers fiddling with the drawstrings on the bottom of your jacket, the simple action you were barely able to feel was enough to send shivers down your spine.
"What was that?" A familiar voice spoke when the pair you were supposed to be stalking rounded the corner. "Shhh-" You hushed Gojo, hitting his chest gently with your hand so as to not cause any more sound as you tried to ignore his attempts at riling you up and instead focused on the task at hand. "It's okay, they're not gonna find us," Gojo assured, completely ignoring your instruction of him to stay quiet.
"If you keep running your mouth they might." You poked, gripping his shirt unconsciously as you held your breath, praying he was right. "Oh, so it's okay for you to talk?" Gojo whisper yelled, resulting in you kicking his shin- or what you thought was his shin. A wooden broomstick fell against the bucket, creating a loud bang inside the small closet. You scrunched your face up, cringing at your stupic mistake.
"Who's there?" The man's voice yelled, making your heart beat out of your chest. "You did it now, huh?" Gojo teased, giggling. How he was still able to laugh in this situation was beyond you, if you didn't think of something fast, you were going to ruin the mission and get smacked on the back of the head by Yaga himself. Your mind was spinning a mine a minute, you frantically tried to think of something, anything.
Worst case you could knock them out if you had to, fuck, was there someone at Jujutsu High who could erase memories? Fat chance. One thing did come to mind though, and it was almost sure to work, as long as it was the curse user who opened the door, If Ms. Yae was the one to open the door you would have to think fast, you always were quick on your feet, you would figure it out surely. After about three seconds of pondering, you decided to hedge your bets.
"Satoru, go with it." You whispered. Reaching through the darkness you found his face with little effort, grabbing his cheeks in your hands he could barely mutter a 'huh?' before he felt your lips on his. His eyes went wide, a shocked hum leaving his lips as you slotted your lips against his, starting a makeout. His hands found yours once more, he slipped his knee between your legs, making you moan softly as he stepped forward and pressed your back into the wall, chasing your lips with his hungrily.
Soft moans and hums were released into the air as he kissed you with passion, his soft tongue licking against your lips, trying to test the waters catching you off guard. You reciprocated, poking your tongue out to meet his. "mmmm" He moaned into the kiss when he felt your tongue meet his, the two tangling with each other sloppily.
You tangled your hands in his hair, ruffling the soft strands and messing up his fluffy hair as you held onto it for dear life. He pressed his knee against your cunt harder, making you moan against his lips. You weren't sure if he knew what he was doing, but you were sure if he kept this up there was going to be a decently sized wet patch on his knee from your arousal seeping through your panties.
The two of you kissed like you were both injected with poison and the antidote was in the other's throat. Like neither of you have had a drop of water in decades, like-
The door swung open, both of your heads snapping to the wrinkled old man's face as the light illuminated the both of you. He took in your states with a brief one-over, Ssatoru's knee was pressed against your panty-clad cunt, your skirt riding up in the process. His hair was standing in every direction, both of your lips were blushed a dark pink, and your faces had a color to match, the two of you breathing heavily as you stared at the man like you were waiting for him to close the door so you could continue.
"What is it?" The Jujutsu assistant said, standing behind the man at an angle where she couldn't see the two of you. "Ugh, just some kids hooking up." He replied with a disgusted look on his face, slamming the door on the two of you and leaving you in the darkness and heat of the room once more.
The volume of your breaths was accentuated by the silence in the closet. You fully expected Gojo to say something snarky now that you had been caught and it was over, but he stayed quiet, heavily breathing, you could feel his hot breaths hit your face. The adrenaline pumping through your veins from kissing him and getting caught was making you feel dizzy. "So.." you whispered, breaking the silence.
The faint tickle of his lips against yours made your body jerk at the unexpected feeling. He had brought his lips close again, what was he doing? It was over.. right? Gojo licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "You're a good kisser." He said, his breath teasing your skin when he spoke. "Y-yeah?" You had no idea what to do, you weren't used to seeing him like this. "Yeah..I guess we should go now huh?" He replied, licking his lips again as he kept them hovering in front of your own.
The warmth of his mouth radiating so close to yours was driving you crazy. The heartbeat you felt in your cunt was vibrating your whole body from how aroused you were at his situation. "Yeah, guess so." You responded, making no effort to pull your lips away. "Okay." He said, pressing his lips against yours but not closing the small distance in slotting them together. "Okay.." You said back, taking the initiative as you kissed him softly.
He kissed you back slowly, your lips separating in a lewd smack before the connected once more, the kiss speeding up, starting slowly.. slowly.. before Gojo decided he had enough and pressed his head into yours, deepening the kiss. "Mph-" You moaned against him when he slid his hands down to your ass and pulled your hips closer to him, rubbing your cunt along his thigh in the process.
You don't think you've ever been so aroused in your life, something deep within you was coiling around itself, making a need ache through your entire body. "Tell me to stop," Gojo whispered between kisses, digging his nails deeper into the fat of your ass. You wined at his words, pulling your lips back you let one of your hands in his hair slide down to the side of his face, caressing the skin there. You used your thumb to blindly find his lip in the dark, pulling it down before you let it bounce back into place. You pressed your lips to his once more, the two of you breathing heavily into the other's mouth, "I can't." You replied.
He groaned at your words before he smashed your lips together once more. The way you were whining and grinding on his thigh so needily made him feel like he was going to pass out. He needed this so bad, he's wanted this for so long and it was finally happening, all because you had kicked a broom instead of him. He smirked when your hips stuttered, your mouth opening in a slightly louder moan.
"Fuck, you wet?" He whispered needily against your lips, kissing you with fevor. "Mhm," you replied with a whine, humping your cunt along his thigh. The young man groaned at your response, it was then that you felt his hard-on digging into your thigh through his pants. He continues to massage your ass, helping you grind your needy pussy along his thigh as he panted into your mouth. "You feel me?" he asked, pressing his hips into your thigh, letting you feel the imprint of his cock along your leg.
It must've been the sensory deprivation because you were feeling everything tenfold, just the drag of his clothed cock on your thigh alone send a gush of arousal into your panties, your face heating up as you wined into the kiss. "You're so hard.." You whispered back, starting to slide your hand down his chest. "Yeah, all cos of you.. keep going." He encouraged impatiently, nodding against you as he waited to feel your hand on him.
He wanted to see you so bad, wanted to see what kind of expression you were making while you got off on his thigh, what your reaction would be to feeling his cock, how flushed your face was, but this would have to suffice for now. You continued your pursuit for his cock, dragging your hand teasingly over the ridges of his abs, his hip bones, thigh, and finally--his cock. Gojo let you know with a loud groan and affirmation of, "Right there." That you had grabbed his cock in your hand.
"I- I don't know what to do." You admitted, pausing your grinding on his hips as you were suddenly hit with a wave of unsureness. You had never touched someone else before, the only person you've ever kissed was Shoko in a game of spin the bottle once in your second year, you had no idea what you were doing. "I don't either." Gojo laughed, easing the tension you felt in your body and mind at the prospect that he would be disappointed because you had no idea how to please him.
"But humping my leg feels good for you, right?" He asked, to which you nodded briefly, a verbal response coming a little delayed when you forgot he could't see you. "And I know when you touch me like you're doing right now, it feels really good." The man pressed his forehead to yours, massaging your ass in his hands. "So just keep doing that." He whispered, before you felt his lips on yours once more.
"M-mmm" You moaned against him when you felt his hands push you harder along his thigh, trying to help you maintain a pace that would feel good for you. He let shaky breaths escape through his nose as he felt your hand rub and squeeze his cock through his pants. You were going at it with no rhyme or rhythm, but the sloppy technique felt surprisingly good, any form of pressure on his throbbing cock surely would've, he's never been this worked up before.
"I-it's so big." You whimpered against his lips, the praise making him release a shameless groan. "Yeah? wish you could see it." He replied with a short giggle, being cut off by a moan when you unconsciously squeezed around his tip just right. You whined when his leg shifted just right against your clit, giving you the perfect amount of friction at just the right angle. "F-fuck Toru right there-" You gasped, tipping your head back into the wall, the hard surface colliding with your skull, creating a small bump sound.
"Here?" He asked genuinely, using the leverage he had on your ass to pull you down hard against his thigh, making you jolt forward at the intense stimulation. "O-ohmy- yesyes-" You whined, shutting your eyes. Satoru chased for your lips in the dark, thankful you couldn't see him floundering around. It didn't take him long to realize your head was tipped back against the wall. Bending his slender neck down he found yours with his lips, pressing sloppy kisses into the skin there.
"Do you think you can cum from this?" He asked, trailing the kisses up your ear until he found the shell of it, biting and sucking the skin there. "Mhm I- I think so, f-feels like it." His brain almost short-circuited, his cock throbbed against your hand that was jerking him off weakly, pausing every so often when you felt a particularly good sensation. He couldn't believe his ears, you were going to cum, on his thigh, he was going to make you cum.
He swore just thinking about you unraveling on his thigh made his orgasm feel like it could wash over him at any moment, his whole body set on fire with sensitivity and arousal. "Feels like 'ur gonna cum?" He clarified, noticing how your hips started losing their pace against him. "Fuck- yes- nghhhh-" You moaned, clenching your teeth together a you felt the coil tie itself tighter it knots.
"Cum on my thigh pretty, I- I need to hear it," Gojo begged, making out with any inch of skin he could find with his lips. You were sure your neck was going to be a mess when you were finished here, but it felt too good to care. "Satoru- shit, I think I'm- gonna~" You blushed at your own words, the blush only deepening when he released a deep groan, pulling you back and forth along his thigh rapidly as he tried to bring you to your orgasm as your hips proved to be useless now.
"Shit-" Gojo was breathing heavily against your neck through his nose, the breathing coming out stuttered when he felt you come undone on his thigh, feeling his own orgasm begin to crash over him. "Oh fuuuuck-" The young man groaned, listening to your every wonton moan that spilled from your lips as your hips stuttered along his thigh, your whines and breaths coming out choppy as you came.
Gojo abandoned one of his hands on your ass, bringing it on top of yours that was weakly caressing his coc. He wrapped his hand over yours, messily interlacing your fingers as he jerked himself off using your hand, feeling the warm spurts of his cum spill into his boxers. "Just like that- j-just like that baby-" Gojo whined when you had just finished coming down from your high, some semblance of rationality seeping into your body as you picked up the motions of your hand, working him through his own orgasm with his help.
When the last of Gojo's seed had been released into his pants, you squeezed over his softening bulge one last time, his breath hitches as his hand curled his fingers over yours and pulled you off of his sensitive softening cock. "D-did you.." You asked vaguely into the dark space, to which Gojo smiled his signature smile you wished you could've seen, "A whole fucking lot." He answered, bringing his hands back to your hips as he slid his knee out from between your thighs.
You were about to speak when you heard the voices return faintly in the distance, heels clicking to follow. That's right, you were on a mission right now, Yaga had not, in fact, sent you to this old building to get yourself off of your classmate's thigh. The echoing got louder as they passed the room, muffled words could be heard through the door of the closet. "I'll send the information of the students over next, see you next time." Before goodbyes were exchanged, and the sound of a heavy entrance door opened and closed behind the Jujutsu high traitor.
"Oh shit, how lucky is that." Gojo laughed, realizing the two of you had got the information you needed just in time. "You think Yaga will mind the first ten minutes of this tape is a porno?" Gojo laughed. Oh my god, the tape recorder. Maybe you weren't so lucky after all.
