unknvhx

¿real?

[unknvhx]

“𝔪𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔶 𝔦’𝔪 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯”

┆ requests: open

™ ⌞ den¡⟢ ⌝

ྂ ・⸝⸝ 19. lithuanian baddie. bio!med student. writer. autumn enthusiast. choso kamos gf. coffe addict. death note. ken carson. jjk. banana fish.rick owens. brando de santis. dexter. biscoff. yaoi. tokyo ghoul. clara la san. csm. chief keef. crepes. conspiracy theories. sasunaru. my bsf * @satomoe

mlist ! rules ! taglist

© unknvhx.

dividers: @chrisssiren @yeritos @strangergraphics

[unknvhx]

Your megumi smau is really good!! Been craving something like that and you just gifted us!

I sometimes like to hc megumi as this really closed off guy who doesn't know how to show emotions (like the smau) and because of that things go awry, and other times I like to hc him as someone who seems closed off but it's a softie when it's just the two of you. And like... Wow you just wrote it in such a good way, it is and feels so real, it's tiring being the person who's constantly trying to keep the conversation going while the other is just... there giving small answers, seemingly uninterested even if they say they aren't, never putting effort. and then when oc just stopped and his reaction was like "why aren't you texting me first like usual?" that was like ...wow okay, maybe try a little too, the small gestures of hey I like you aren't working, things need to be externalized. I'm rambling

I saw this too and it reminded me of the smau

https://x.com/i/status/2045123642841854229

Just wanted to say that I really liked it!!

oh god thankyou sooo much ur actually sososo sweet i loved reading this dw i loved ur rambling, also i looked up the link i totally get it im honoured you thought of my smau >.<

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ the jjk men drunkenly confess their feeling for you -texts

classmate!megumi, friend!gojo, coworker!nanami, friend!choso, ex’slwayer!higuruma, friend!inumaki, sneakylink!toji, friend!yuji

mdni. timeskip mlist

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

⌗ taglist

@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ yuji thinks one mistake means the end, but you still show up

mdni. 1.6k mlist

…

you don’t notice it at first, not in any way that feels urgent, because yuji has always been good at carrying things lightly, at making even the worst situations feel manageable just by the way he exists in them.

he moves the same way, talks the same way, smiles like nothing has shifted, and it lets everything else slip by unnoticed, tucked into the spaces between moments where you are not looking closely enough.

but the longer you are around him, the more those small inconsistencies begin to gather, quiet and subtle but persistent, until they start to press at the edge of your awareness.

it is in the way his posture is just slightly more guarded than usual, like he is holding himself together instead of simply being, in the way his hand drifts to his side and lingers there for a second too long before dropping, in the way his laughter feels chosen instead of effortless, arriving a fraction too late to be completely natural.

none of it is enough on its own to stop you, to make you question him outright, and maybe that is why it works, why he gets away with it, why you let yourself believe that if something was actually wrong, he would tell you.

you only realise how wrong that assumption is when someone else says it, offhand, like it is nothing worth thinking about.

“he took a pretty bad hit earlier.”

the words settle heavily, immediate and cold, and everything you have been ignoring rearranges itself all at once into something impossible to overlook.

your chest tightens before you can even process it properly, before you can decide how to react, because part of you already knows what you are going to find.

when you confront him, he smiles.

not forced, not obviously strained, just easy and familiar in a way that almost makes you second guess yourself for a split second, like maybe you are overreacting, like maybe it really is nothing.

“it’s nothing, i promise,” he says, stepping a little closer, his voice warm, reassuring, the same tone he uses when he wants to calm you down. “i’ve had worse.”

you don’t move, and the fact that you don’t soften, don’t mirror his expression, is enough to make something in him falter, just slightly, just enough that you catch it.

“you lied to me,” you say, your voice quieter than the feeling behind it, but steady, grounded in something that doesn’t waver even as your chest feels tight.

he blinks, caught off guard, like that wasn’t what he expected you to focus on.

“i didn’t lie,” he replies quickly, almost defensively, his shoulders tensing as if he is bracing for something. “i just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

the space between you stretches, thick with everything unsaid, and you hold his gaze, refusing to let him brush past it.

“not a big deal to you,” you say, your arms crossing, not to shut him out but to keep yourself from reaching for him instead. “you didn’t even tell me.”

he looks away then, jaw tightening, and you can see the moment he starts to pull back, to retreat into that quieter, more closed off version of himself that only shows when he feels cornered.

“i didn’t want you to worry.” it lands wrong.

“i worry anyway,” you snap, the words slipping out sharper than you intended, and you take a small step back, putting space between you because staying close suddenly feels like it will make everything blur together in a way you don’t want.

“do you think it feels better finding out from someone else?”

he flinches, barely, but it is there, and it only makes the frustration twist tighter.

“i was trying to help,” he says, softer now, like he already knows he is losing this, like he is trying to salvage something that is slipping.

you shake your head, the motion slow, deliberate.

“no, you were deciding for me,” you say, your voice lowering, steady despite the way your chest feels. “you don’t get to decide for me whether you’re worth staying for.”

the words hang there, heavier than you meant them to be, heavier than you expected, and the effect is immediate.

he goes still, completely still, something in him has locked into place.

you see it in his expression, in the way his shoulders drop just slightly, not in relief, but in something quieter, something that looks a lot like resignation, and for a second you almost take it back, almost reach out and soften it before it settles too deep.

but you are still upset, still caught in the sharp edge of it, and you don’t. so you leave.

not loudly, not dramatically, just turning away and walking out before you can second guess it, before you can undo the distance you just created.

you expect him to follow. he doesn’t.

the silence that follows is not the kind that feels intentional, not the kind that gives you room to breathe and sort through your thoughts.

it lingers, it stretches.

it settles into something heavier than you expected.

he doesn’t come find you, doesn’t hover at the edge of your space, doesn’t send even a simple message, and at first you tell yourself that is fair, that you needed space, that you were the one who walked away.

but the longer it goes on, the more it starts to feel wrong, because this is not space, this is absence.

and the thought creeps in slowly, unwelcome but persistent, that if he was hurt before, if he was already hiding it, then what is he doing now, with no one there to check, no one there to stop him from pushing himself further than he should.

that thought settles deep and refuses to leave, looping quietly until it becomes the only thing you can focus on.

by the time you are standing outside his dorm, your hand raised to knock, the decision has already been made. you knock once, then push the door open before hesitation can catch up with you.

“yuji?”

he is sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders slightly hunched, one hand pressed firmly against his side, no longer trying to hide it, and when he looks up at the sound of your voice, the surprise on his face is immediate, unfiltered in a way that makes your chest ache.

“you’re here,” he says, like it is something he hadn’t expected, like he had already convinced himself otherwise.

you step inside, closing the door behind you, the quiet click settling into the space.

“of course i’m here,” you reply, softer now, the earlier edge worn down by the weight of everything that has built up since. “you’re hurt.”

he glances down instinctively, like he forgot it was visible, like he forgot he is not pretending anymore.

“i’m fine,” he says, but it is weaker this time, lacking the easy confidence from before.

you move closer, slow enough to give him time to react, but he doesn’t pull away, he just watches you, something uncertain flickering in his expression.

“stop saying that,” you say quietly, stopping in front of him, close enough to see the tension he is still holding. “i don’t need you to be fine all the time.”

he exhales, the sound soft, almost tired.

“i thought you were mad,” he admits, his voice lower now, careful. “i figured you didn’t want me around.”

the words settle heavily, reshaping everything in an instant, and you feel something in your chest tighten, not with anger this time, but with something closer to regret.

you reach out without thinking, your hand resting gently against his arm, grounding, steady.

“i was mad,” you say, honest, your thumb shifting slightly against his sleeve. “i am mad. but that doesn’t mean i was going to disappear on you.”

he looks at your hand for a moment, like he is still processing the fact that you are here, that you reached out instead of pulling away.

“you ignored me,” he says quietly.

you wince, just slightly.

“yeah,” you admit, your voice softer now. “because i needed a second to not make it worse. not because i wanted you gone.”

the silence that follows is different this time, less sharp, more tentative, like something is being rebuilt slowly instead of breaking apart.

“i didn’t want to worry you,” he says again, but it sounds different now, less like a defense, more like something he genuinely believed.

“you don’t get to protect me by shutting me out,” you reply, your voice gentle but firm, your gaze steady on his. “if you’re hurting, i want to know. even if it scares me.”

he swallows, his gaze dropping briefly before lifting again, more open now.

“i thought if i kept messing up, you’d leave,” he says, quieter, like he is finally saying the part that mattered most.

you step closer, closing the last bit of distance, your other hand coming up to rest lightly against his shoulder.

“i’m still here,” you say.

he searches your face, like he is looking for any sign that you don’t mean it, and when he doesn’t find one, something in him softens in a way that feels almost fragile.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “you are.”

the moment settles between you, quieter now, steadier, and when you lean in, it is slow, deliberate, giving him time to meet you halfway.

“just don’t lie to me again,” you whisper.

he lets out a small breath, something almost like a laugh, softer than before. “i won’t,” he says.

you close the distance then, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is gentle but certain, something that lingers just long enough to anchor everything that almost slipped away.

he leans into it after a second, careful at first, then a little more sure, like he is letting himself believe this is real, that you are still here.

when you pull back, your foreheads rest together, the contact light but grounding, and this time, the silence that follows feels warm instead of uncertain.

like something held, instead of lost.

[requested by anon]

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

⌗ taglist

@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemillerr @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ accidentally texting the jjk men ‘i love you’

bf!megumi, bf!gojo, bf!nanami, bf!choso, bf!higuruma, bf!inumaki, sneakylink!toji, bf!yuji

mdni. timeskip mlist

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . the higuruma one has a mistake in it but i really cannot be bothered to fix it so ignore it please u.u. - ‘i don’t take it back’ + ‘so you do love me?’ should be the other way around

⌗ taglist

@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ you and geto seeking comfort in each other to cope

mdni. 3k mlist

…

it never feels deliberate the way you end up around him, and yet it keeps happening with a kind of quiet consistency that neither of you ever questions.

there is no reason that would make sense if someone tried to explain it, no plan behind it, and still it settles into something close to routine, as if the world simply keeps placing you in the same space when everything else has already fallen out of alignment.

he does not greet you when you arrive, and you do not expect him to. that lack of expectation is part of it, the way nothing between you is asked to be more than it is.

with other people there is always some effort required, some version of yourself that has to be maintained or adjusted, but with him there is none of that. whatever you are in his presence is enough, and the same seems to be true for him.

you have noticed, without ever focusing on it for too long, that he is different with you than he is with everyone else. not softer, not warmer, just less guarded in a way that feels like a refusal rather than a gift.

as if keeping anything in place would take more energy than he is willing to spend. you suspect the same is true in reverse, though neither of you ever examines it closely enough to confirm it.

there is a kind of understanding in that, though it is not something either of you acknowledges. it sits underneath everything, quiet and unspoken, the recognition of something worn down to its simplest form.

not comfort in the way people usually mean it, but something more stripped back, where even silence feels manageable because it is not demanding anything from you.

when the distance between you closes, it does so without hesitation, without conversation, without anything that would give it weight beyond the moment itself. it is not built on affection or trust in any traditional sense, but on absence of resistance, on the shared lack of need to turn it info something else. nothing is named because nothing is offered that would require a name.

and still, there are moments where something almost shifts, where his presence feels closer than it should, or where your awareness of him lingers in a way that is easy to ignore but not entirely gone.

it never develops into anything more defined, never becomes something either of you has to respond to, but it exists at the edges, quiet and persistent.

neither of you acknowledges it.

it is easier that way. what happens between you remains contained, beginning and ending without leaving anything behind that either of you has to carry.

there is no future in it, no expectation that it should become anything more, and that is precisely what keeps it intact. if it ever meant more than what it is, it would stop.

it happens again on a night when the lights in the room are already off and the only glow comes from the streetlamp outside the window half covered by a faded curtain. you are there because you walked in without thinking about it and he is already sitting on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned like he has been waiting for nothing in particular. neither of you speaks.

the space between you shrinks the way it always does and his hand finds your wrist first just a loose grip that pulls you closer until your knees bump against his. you let it happen because stopping would mean explaining something you do not want to name.

his fingers slide up your arm slow and steady and you feel the calluses on his palm catch against your skin. there is no rush in it but no softness either. he tugs your shirt over your head and you lift your arms without being asked. the fabric drops to the floor and the cool air hits your chest making your nipples tighten before his mouth is even near them.

you straddle his lap because that is how it goes and his hands settle on your hips gripping just hard enough to hold you there. his breath is warm against your collarbone when he leans in and his lips close around one nipple sucking hard enough that your back arches without you meaning it to. a low sound slips out of your throat but you do not try to hold it back.

he does not look up at your face. his eyes stay closed or on your skin like seeing you fully would make this something else.

you rock against him feeling him harden through his jeans and the friction builds slow and deliberate. his hands move to your waist unbuttoning your pants and you shift so he can push them down your thighs along with your underwear.

the couch cushions dip under your weight when you settle back down naked now and he is still half dressed. you reach between you and open his jeans freeing him and he is already leaking at the tip when your fingers wrap around the base.

he exhales through his nose but that is all. no words.

you stroke him a few times feeling the heat of him pulse in your palm and then you lift yourself up enough to guide him inside. the first push is tight and slow and you sink down inch by inch until he is buried all the way.

your thighs tremble from the stretch but you do not pause. you start moving right away rolling your hips in a steady rhythm that drags him against that spot inside you over and over.

his grip on your hips tightens and he meets each downward motion with a small upward thrust that knocks the air out of you. sweat starts to gather at the small of your back and along his hairline but neither of you wipes it away.

you lean forward bracing your hands on his shoulders and the angle changes so every slide feels deeper sharper. his breathing gets rougher matching the pace you set and you can hear the wet sound of skin meeting skin every time you come down on him. it is not gentle. it is not loving.

it is just the two of you using each other’s bodies because the emptiness feels a little less heavy when it is filled like this. you keep your eyes on the wall behind him because looking at his face would crack something open that you cannot afford to let out.

he shifts suddenly tipping you backward so your back hits the couch and he is over you now still inside. one of his hands braces beside your head and the other hooks under your knee pushing your leg up toward your chest.

the new position lets him drive in harder and you feel every thick inch of him stretching you open again and again. your fingers dig into his back under his open shirt scraping down the muscle there and he hisses but does not slow down. the couch creaks under you both and your other leg wraps around his waist pulling him closer even though closer is not what this is about.

it is about the burn the pressure the way your body clenches around him when the pleasure starts to coil tight in your belly. you are close and he knows it because your breaths are coming shorter and your hips are jerking up to meet him without any control left.

he reaches down between you and his thumb finds your clit rubbing in tight circles that match the thrust of his hips. the added pressure makes your vision blur and you come hard around him your walls pulsing and squeezing him while a broken sound tears out of your mouth.

he keeps moving through it chasing his own release and when it hits him his whole body goes rigid for a second before he spills inside you hot and deep. he stays there buried to the hilt while the last spasms fade and his forehead drops to your shoulder for just a breath. then he pulls out slow and you feel the wet slide of him leaving you along with the mess he left behind.

he sits back on the couch and you stay lying there for a minute catching your breath with your legs still spread and his come leaking out onto the cushion.

neither of you speaks. he tucks himself back into his jeans and you sit up eventually reaching for your clothes on the floor.

your hands shake a little when you pull your shirt back on but you ignore it. the room feels smaller now and the air thicker with the smell of sweat and sex but it does not change anything. he lights a cigarette and the flame briefly lights his face showing the same blank expression he always wears after.

you pull your pants up and sit on the other end of the couch staring at the same patch of floor you always do. the ache between your legs is still there a dull throb that will linger for hours but you do not mind it. it is proof that it happened and proof that it will not mean anything tomorrow.

you both stay like that in the quiet for a long time. the streetlamp outside flickers once and then steadies again. he does not offer you the cigarette and you do not ask for it.

the distance between you is back now wider than before but still familiar. nothing is said because there is nothing to say.

this is what it is and it ends the same way it always does with both of you a little more worn down and a little more empty than when it started. yet the next time the world places you in the same space it will happen again and neither of you will question it. that is the only consistency you have left.

it happens again on a night when the lights in the room are already off and the only glow comes from the streetlamp outside the window half covered by a faded curtain.

you are there because you walked in without thinking about it and he is already sitting on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned like he has been waiting for nothing in particular. neither of you speaks. the space between you shrinks the way it always does and his hand finds your wrist first just a loose grip that pulls you closer until your knees bump against his.

you let it happen because stopping would mean explaining something you do not want to name.

his fingers slide up your arm slow and steady and you feel the calluses on his palm catch against your skin. there is no rush in it but no softness either.

he tugs your shirt over your head and you lift your arms without being asked. the fabric drops to the floor and the cool air hits your chest making your nipples tighten before his mouth is even near them.

you straddle his lap because that is how it goes and his hands settle on your hips gripping just hard enough to hold you there. his breath is warm against your collarbone when he leans in and his lips close around one nipple sucking hard enough that your back arches without you meaning it to.

a low sound slips out of your throat but you do not try to hold it back. he does not look up at your face. his eyes stay closed or on your skin like seeing you fully would make this something else.

you rock against him feeling him harden through his jeans and the friction builds slow and deliberate. his hands move to your waist unbuttoning your pants and you shift so he can push them down your thighs along with your underwear. the couch cushions dip under your weight when you settle back down naked now and he is still half dressed.

you reach between you and open his jeans freeing him and he is already leaking at the tip when your fingers wrap around the base. he exhales through his nose but that is all. no words. you stroke him a few times feeling the heat of him pulse in your palm and then you lift yourself up enough to guide him inside.

the first push is tight and slow and you sink down inch by inch until he is buried all the way. your thighs tremble from the stretch but you do not pause. you start moving right away rolling your hips in a steady rhythm that drags him against that spot inside you over and over.

his grip on your hips tightens and he meets each downward motion with a small upward thrust that knocks the air out of you. sweat starts to gather at the small of your back and along his hairline but neither of you wipes it away.

you lean forward bracing your hands on his shoulders and the angle changes so every slide feels deeper sharper. his breathing gets rougher matching the pace you set and you can hear the wet sound of skin meeting skin every time you come down on him. it is not gentle. it is not loving. it is just the two of you using each other’s bodies because the emptiness feels a little less heavy when it is filled like this.

you keep your eyes on the wall behind him because looking at his face would crack something open that you cannot afford to let out.

he shifts suddenly tipping you backward so your back hits the couch and he is over you now still inside. one of his hands braces beside your head and the other hooks under your knee pushing your leg up toward your chest. the new position lets him drive in harder and you feel every thick inch of him stretching you open again and again.

your fingers dig into his back under his open shirt scraping down the muscle there and he hisses but does not slow down. the couch creaks under you both and your other leg wraps around his waist pulling him closer even though closer is not what this is about. it is about the burn the pressure the way your body clenches around him when the pleasure starts to coil tight in your belly.

you are close and he knows it because your breaths are coming shorter and your hips are jerking up to meet him without any control left.

he reaches down between you and his thumb finds your clit rubbing in tight circles that match the thrust of his hips. the added pressure makes your vision blur and you come hard around him your walls pulsing and squeezing him while a broken sound tears out of your mouth.

he keeps moving through it chasing his own release and when it hits him his whole body goes rigid for a second before he spills inside you hot and deep. he stays there buried to the hilt while the last spasms fade and his forehead drops to your shoulder for just a breath.

then he pulls out slow and you feel the wet slide of him leaving you along with the mess he left behind. he sits back on the couch and you stay lying there for a minute catching your breath with your legs still spread and his come leaking out onto the cushion.

neither of you speaks.

he tucks himself back into his jeans and you sit up eventually reaching for your clothes on the floor. your hands shake a little when you pull your shirt back on but you ignore it. the room feels smaller now and the air thicker with the smell of sweat and sex but it does not change anything.

he lights a cigarette and the flame briefly lights his face showing the same blank expression he always wears after.

you pull your pants up and sit on the other end of the couch staring at the same patch of floor you always do.

the ache between your legs is still there a dull throb that will linger for hours but you do not mind it. it is proof that it happened and proof that it will not mean anything tomorrow.

you both stay like that in the quiet for a long time. the streetlamp outside flickers once and then steadies again. he does not offer you the cigarette and you do not ask for it. the distance between you is back now wider than before but still familiar.

nothing is said because there is nothing to say. this is what it is and it ends the same way it always does with both of you a little more worn down and a little more empty than when it started.

yet the next time the world places you in the same space it will happen again and neither of you will question it. that is the only consistency you have left.

[requested by anon]

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . this is not the best i know and im sorryyy, i really liked this idea but i struggled really bad on getting my point across, i might end up redoing it.

⌗ taglist

@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[xamallo]

YURI ON ICE 2026 mentioned

[unknvhx]

more yuri on ice should be mentioned in 2026.

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ choso always gets needy after a long day

mdni. 630 mlist

…

the door barely clicks shut before he’s there.

it’s always like this after a long day, something in him frayed, stretched thin in ways he doesn’t know how to explain. choso isn’t loud about it. he doesn’t complain. he just lingers closer than usual, his presence heavier, quieter.

you notice it in the way his shoulders drop when he sees you. in how his eyes soften, like the world finally stopped demanding something from him.

“i’m tired,” he mutters, voice low, almost reluctant. but what he means isn’t just exhaustion.

it’s the way he hovers, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself unless he’s touching you, hand brushing yours, head dipping toward your shoulder, breath steadying the longer he stays close. like you’re the only place he can come undone without falling apart.

and when you sit down, he doesn’t hesitate this time.

he just, folds into you.

choso’s arms slide around your waist as he sinks to his knees between your legs, forehead pressing against your thigh like it’s the only solid thing left in his world.

a soft, tired exhale leaves him, warm against your skin through the thin fabric of whatever you’re wearing.

“need you.” he whispers, the words barely audible, almost shy even though you’ve done this dance before. his hands are gentle but insistent, sliding up your thighs, thumbs stroking slow circles as if asking permission he already knows he has.

he’s always like this when the day has worn him down too thin, needy in that quiet, devastating way. not rough. not demanding.

just clingy, desperate to lose himself in you, to drown the weight in his chest between your legs until the only thing he can focus on is your taste, your sounds, the way your fingers thread through his hair.

you barely have time to shift before he’s tugging your panties aside with trembling fingers, careful, reverent. his dark eyes flick up to yours for one second, pleading, exhausted, hungry, and then he leans in.

the first slow drag of his tongue is lazy, almost lazy, like he’s savoring the moment he’s been waiting for since he left this morning. a low, broken groan vibrates against you as he presses closer, face burying deeper between your thighs. his arms wrap tighter around your legs, holding you open for him, keeping you right where he needs you.

“fuck, missed this,” he mumbles against your pussy, voice muffled and thick with fatigue and want. “just, let me stay here. please.”

he doesn’t rush. even tired, even clingy, choso eats you out like it’s the only thing grounding him, long, wet stripes of his tongue, soft sucks on your clit, the occasional gentle nip that makes your hips twitch.

his hair tickles your inner thighs as he nuzzles in closer, nose brushing against you while he laps at your entrance, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst.

every little whimper or sigh you let out seems to melt the tension out of his shoulders. his grip loosens just a fraction, but he never pulls away.

he stays right there, face pressed flush between your legs, tongue working you slow and deep, lost in the taste of you, the warmth, the way you start to tremble for him.

he’s not trying to make you come fast. he just wants to stay like this, clinging, needy, mouth on you for as long as you’ll let him.

because when he’s this tired, this raw, the only place he wants to be is right here, buried between your thighs, quietly falling apart while he puts you back together with every lazy, devoted stroke of his tongue.

and you know, without him having to say it, that he could stay here all night if you’d let him.

[requested by anon]

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . i’m trying to post all of the request i’ve completed so i can reopen them asap!!

⌗ taglist

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[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ being wanted by higuruma and cared for by nanami, and never quite knowing which one is better.

mdni. 700 mlist

…

it starts to feel impossible not to notice it, not when the difference between them is so distinct and yet somehow pulls at you in equal measure, like two separate currents you’ve been standing between for far too long.

nanami’s presence settles into your life so naturally it almost frightens you, because there’s no clear moment where it begins, no obvious shift where care turns into something heavier, something harder to ignore.

it’s in the way he remembers everything without asking, how your preferences become second nature to him, how he anticipates your needs with a quiet precision that makes you feel known in a way that lingers long after he’s gone.

when he stands beside you, there’s a steadiness to him that makes the world feel quieter, like all the sharp edges have been softened just enough for you to breathe easier.

and that’s what makes it dangerous.

because you could fall into that so easily, let yourself sink into the comfort of it without ever questioning it, without ever asking what it really means that he looks at you the way he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention, or why his hand hovers just slightly too long before pulling away when he passes you something.

there’s something deeply gentle about him, something patient, and it makes your chest ache in a way that feels almost unfair.

but then there’s higuruma. and he doesn’t let you forget for even a second.

where nanami is quiet, higuruma is intentional, every glance deliberate, every moment shared with you carrying a weight that feels chosen rather than incidental.

he doesn’t overwhelm you with words, but there’s something in the way he holds your gaze, like he’s asking a question he already knows you’re avoiding. when he steps closer, it’s never accidental, and when his fingers brush yours it doesn’t feel like coincidence, it feels like a decision, one he’s fully aware of and unwilling to take back.

he makes you feel seen in a way that’s different, sharper, something that stirs rather than soothes, and it leaves you unsteady because you don’t know what to do with it.

where nanami gives without asking, higuruma invites, and the difference between being cared for and being wanted starts to blur in a way that keeps you awake longer than you’d like to admit.

and the worst part is that they never force you to choose.

they don’t acknowledge each other, not openly, not in a way that would make this easier, but the awareness is there, lingering in the quiet pauses and subtle shifts that only you seem to catch.

nanami’s gaze flickers, just briefly, when higuruma steps a little too close, and higuruma’s usual confidence softens into something more restrained when nanami is the one standing beside you instead.

neither of them crosses that invisible line, neither of them turns this into something confrontational, and somehow that makes it harder.

because there’s no tension you can point to, no conflict you can resolve.

just you, standing in the middle of something unspoken, feeling everything at once.

you start to notice the way your own reactions betray you, how your body leans just slightly toward nanami when you need comfort, how your thoughts drift to higuruma when you’re alone, replaying the way he looks at you like he’s waiting for you to realize something you haven’t quite admitted yet.

it isn’t simple, isn’t something you can reduce to preference or logic, and that’s what unsettles you most.

you tell yourself you should step back, create distance, make it easier before it becomes something you can’t untangle, but every time you consider it, something stops you.

maybe it’s the way nanami quietly adjusts your sleeve without saying a word, grounding you in a way that feels safe, or maybe it’s the way higuruma’s voice softens when he says your name, like it means more than he’s willing to explain.

either way, you don’t move.

and so you stay there, caught between something gentle and something bold, something steady and something consuming, knowing that eventually you’ll have to choose, and not knowing which part of yourself you’re more afraid to lose when you do.

[requested by @nanamissweetheart ]

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

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@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ yuji finally confesses that he likes you, but you already know

mdni. 1k mlist

…

yuji itadori was not subtle, even when he tried his absolute hardest to be.

it showed in the way his voice would jump half an octave whenever you spoke to him, in how he suddenly forgot what he was doing mid-sentence if you were nearby.

in the deeply unconvincing way he insisted he was “totally normal” while standing just a little too far away from you, as though proximity itself had become something he needed to manage carefully rather than simply exist in.

at some point, it stopped being something he could explain away. it was in everything.

how he always ended up sitting closer than necessary in group settings, how he volunteered for errands that conveniently overlapped with yours, and how his attention snapped to you so quickly it gave him away before anyone even had to say a word. by now, it wasn’t really a secret.

nobara had long since stopped pretending she didn’t notice, often sighing dramatically whenever yuji looked your way, while megumi had settled into a quiet, exhausted acceptance that suggested he had been watching this unfold for far too long already.

even panda had once casually asked if yuji needed “emotional support or something,” which yuji had responded to by nearly tripping over absolutely nothing.

the worst part was that yuji knew. he was painfully aware of it all, just completely unequipped to do anything useful about it.

outside the school building one afternoon, standing with megumi and nobara, he tried anyway to deny it out loud, though it came out more like wishful thinking than conviction. “i’m not obvious… i’m normal,” he muttered, like saying it might make it true.

megumi barely glanced at him. “you stared at her for ten minutes without blinking.”

yuji flinched slightly, then recovered too fast. “i was thinking.”

“about her,” nobara added immediately, not even looking up from where she was standing.

he opened his mouth, closed it again, then tried weaker. “that doesn’t prove anything.”

“you literally light up when she says your name,” nobara continued, now fully invested.

“that’s not- no i don’t,” yuji shot back, though his ears were already going red.

“you do,” megumi said flatly, like he was stating something scientifically verified.

yuji dragged a hand down his face, groaning under his breath. “okay, even if i did… what am i supposed to do about it?”

that made both of them pause for a second, like the answer was so obvious it didn’t deserve discussion. “talk to her,” nobara said.

“like a normal person,” megumi added.

yuji looked genuinely distressed by how simple that sounded, like it was a trick question he was about to fail anyway.

eventually, there was no more room to stall. not because he suddenly became brave, but because he ran out of chances to avoid it.

he found himself outside the classroom door where you were just about to leave, feet planted a little too firmly, like he was afraid moving at all would make him disappear.

when you noticed him, he straightened immediately, expression flickering between determination and panic as he stepped into your space before he could overthink it out of existence.

“i need to tell you something,” he said quickly, voice a little unsteady, like it was already trying to escape him.

you tilted your head slightly, waiting without pushing him.

yuji swallowed, shoulders tightening once before he forced himself to continue. the words came out all at once after that, slightly messy but honest, he liked you, had liked you for a while, had been acting weird about it without meaning to, and was pretty sure everyone else already knew.

he didn’t try to make it sound smooth, just real, like if he stopped talking he might lose the courage entirely. when he finished, he stood there quietly, waiting, tension coiling in his posture as his brain immediately started preparing for the worst possible outcome.

then you laughed.

it was soft, not sharp, more surprised than anything else, like the situation had finally confirmed something you already suspected.

yuji froze instantly, expression tightening as his mind jumped straight to rejection before he could even process the sound properly.

“…you’re laughing,” he said carefully, like saying it out loud might make it worse.

you shook your head slightly, still smiling. “yeah, i know.”

that made him stop completely.

“…you know?”

“you’re not subtle,” you said simply, amused in a way that didn’t feel unkind. “you’ve been like that for weeks.”

the tension in yuji’s shoulders dropped all at once, though it quickly turned into embarrassment settling in deeper, slower. “oh,” he said quietly, staring at you like he was recalculating reality. “so that’s a no?”

the assumption came out automatically, already halfway into retreat.

you reached out then, lightly tapping his arm, grounding him before he could spiral further. “i’m laughing because i already knew,” you said, voice softer now. “not because i’m saying no”

yuji blinked, once, then again, the information clearly taking a moment longer than expected to fully load. “oh.”

the silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore, just a pause while everything caught up. his posture loosened slightly, though he still looked like he didn’t quite trust the situation yet.

“so…” he started carefully, still a little red but steadier now, “would you maybe want to go to the movies sometime?”

you looked at him for a moment, just long enough to make him nervous again, before nodding. “yeah.”

the relief that hit him was immediate and obvious, his shoulders dropping as if he’d been holding his breath for hours without realizing it. “cool,” he said, then corrected himself almost instantly, “cool. i’ll plan it properly. like a normal person.”

you blinked a little, catching on to the way he said it. “what?”

yuji froze for half a second, like his brain had tripped over itself. a faint flush crept up his neck as he quickly shook his head, forcing a small laugh that didn’t quite land. “nothing, uh, never mind,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “forget it.”

you didn’t push it, just watched him with that same knowing look that somehow made him even more aware of how much he was failing at acting normal.

as he finally pulled out his phone to get your number, still visibly flustered but undeniably lighter, it was clear the embarrassment hadn’t disappeared.

it had just shifted into something softer, something warm enough that it didn’t feel like something he needed to escape from anymore.

[requested by @only4sukuna ]

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@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ late campus walk with nerdjo after studying

mdni. 1k milst

…

by the time you leaned back from the desk, everything on the page had started to blur together.

notes overlapped in messy layers, ink smudged where your hand had dragged across it too many times, and the quiet hum of your dorm room had long since replaced any real focus.

gojo was still there, stretched out in your chair like he hadn’t moved much at all, though the scattered papers near him said otherwise. his attention had shifted at some point; you could feel it without looking, the way his focus lingered on you instead of the work.

you closed your notebook with a soft exhale, pressing it flat for a second before letting your hand fall away. “i’m done,” you said, voice quieter now, worn down from hours of thinking.

he didn’t argue. that alone told you enough.

there was a brief rustle as he leaned forward, gathering a few loose sheets from your desk and tapping them into place, setting them neatly beside your bag. it was an absent sort of care, the kind he never pointed out.

when you stood, the room felt too warm, too small after sitting in it for so long. you crossed to the window and pushed it open slightly, letting cool night air slip in and brush against your skin.

a second later, something warm settled over your shoulders. you glanced down at the sleeves falling past your hands, already familiar.

“i’m fine,” you murmured, though you didn’t move to take it off.

“i know,” he said, quieter than usual. “still.” that was all.

you adjusted the hoodie slightly, letting yourself settle into the warmth before turning back toward the door. “walk?” he was already standing.

the hallway outside was dim and mostly empty, your footsteps echoing softly as you made your way out of the building. when you stepped into the night, the difference was immediate, the air cooler, the silence deeper, the campus stretched out in soft pools of light.

neither of you rushed.

gojo walked close enough that your arms brushed every so often, like it wasn’t entirely accidental. after a few steps, your hand slipped into his, easy and unspoken, and he laced your fingers together without even glancing down.

the tension from earlier had faded into something quieter, something that didn’t need to be filled with conversation.

even he seemed calmer like this, the usual sharp edge to him softened by the late hour and the steady rhythm of walking beside you.

at some point, you slowed, your steps growing uneven as the tiredness caught up to you. your foot clipped lightly against the pavement, just enough to throw you off balance for a second.

before you could fully stumble, his grip tightened, steadying you. “careful,” he murmured, not teasing, just there.

you huffed softly, half a laugh, half embarrassment. “i’m fine.”

“yeah,” he said, but he didn’t let go.

instead, he shifted a little closer, your shoulders brushing more firmly this time as your steps evened out again. his thumb traced once over your knuckles, absent and grounding, like he was making sure you were steady now.

you leaned into him just slightly in return, the fabric of his hoodie warm against your skin, his presence even warmer.

the moment stretched, quiet and easy, until it settled into something that felt almost instinctive, walking slower, closer, neither of you in any hurry to get back.

when the dorm building came back into view, it felt too soon.

you stopped just outside the entrance, still holding his hand, still wrapped in something that felt a little too comfortable to leave behind.

he turned toward you, his expression softer than it had been all night, and for a second neither of you moved. then he leaned in, slow and familiar, resting his forehead lightly against yours.

“you did good today,” he said, voice low, like the moment didn’t need anything louder.

you exhaled softly, the last of the tension slipping away. “so did you.”

a small pause.

then, quieter, “i’m glad it was with you.”

something in his expression shifted, subtle but real, and his hand tightened slightly around yours.

“yeah,” he said, almost to himself. “me too.”

for a second, neither of you moved.

his hand shifted in yours, thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles like he had all the time in the world. his gaze flicked down to your lips for just a moment too long, and you caught it immediately.

“you’re staring,” you murmured, a little too satisfied with yourself.

“am not.” his denial seemed everything but believable.

“you so are.”

that small smile of his showed up anyway, like it had been waiting for you to call him out. “maybe i am.”

before you could get another word in, he leaned in, easy and unhurried, like this was the most natural thing in the world. the kiss was light at first, almost playful, like he was testing your reaction, but when you didn’t move away, it softened, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

when he pulled back, he stayed close, his forehead nearly brushing yours again.

“you’re grinning,” he pointed out.

“yeah,” you said, completely unbothered. “because you’re a nerd.”

that got an immediate reaction. a short laugh slipped out of him, warm and unguarded, like you’d actually managed to catch him off guard for once.

“i’m a nerd?” he repeated, as if offended.

“you literally just stared at me for five seconds before kissing me.”

his ears went faintly red at that, the kind of blush he’d never admit to, even as he looked away like it hadn’t happened. “…that was strategy.”

“sure it was.”

his grip on your hand tightened slightly, like he was trying not to smile too obviously now. “you’re lucky i like you.”

you tilted your head, satisfied. “you’re lucky i like nerds.”

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

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@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ something got lost in the way megumi acted and what he meant -texts [p2]

mdni. timeskip part one mlist

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . i was feeling angsty if you can’t tell, part three will be jolly guys dw

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@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @daisybynight @hishiroswhim @catboygumi @simpingdeadcharacters @viperaesdiary @kitwithsomecat @silentfriday @iloveme-3-hehe @pokiez-1217 @bunichuu @cyberakane @kaemaybae @cattleray @fleurlockk @volcanicnomadlocket @winkii @flersalomme @fushibunni @nicolovesutoo @megumiguro @luvs-angel @fillthevoidsd @lcttetwirl @miia-nguyen @monacosprince @toughlov3r @illimac

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ you always come back to plug!choso but it’s not just for what he sells

mdni. 4k mlist

…

the first time you went upstairs, it wasn’t an accident.

by now, you knew the pattern of these parties, same house, same crowd, same kind of noise that blurred into itself after a while. and him, always somewhere above it, like he existed just outside of everything everyone else was doing.

choso was never downstairs for long. people said he didn’t like the noise, or the people, or maybe just the way they looked at him, like they needed something, like they were already afraid of him even before they spoke.

you didn’t ask. you just noticed.

so when you stepped through the front door and felt the bass settle heavy in your chest, you didn’t bother pretending you’d stay.

you moved through the crowd like you had somewhere to be, brushing past bodies and laughter and hands that reached without thinking, heading straight for the stairs like it was routine.

no one stopped you, but you could feel it, the looks, the hesitation. someone caught your wrist for half a second.

“upstairs is off limits.” you pulled free easily, not even slowing down. “i know.” that was the thing. you did know.

the hallway was quieter, the music dulled into something distant, like it couldn’t quite reach up here. door were shut, most of them, except one at the end, never fully closed, never wide open either.

just enough.

you pushed it gently, like you always did and he was there.

same place as every time, sitting at the edge of the bed, posture loose but unmoving, like he’d been there longer than the party had even been going.

his head tilted slightly when the door opened, eyes lifting in a way that felt more like recognition than surprise.

“you’re late.” it wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t really a complaint either. just an observation, like he’d been keeping track.

you shut the door behind you, leaning back against it for a second before answering. “it’s not even midnight”

“that’s late for you.”

there was no point asking how he knew that. you had a feeling he noticed more than he ever said out loud.

you crossed the room without hesitating, stopping just close enough that you didn’t have to raise your voice. “you got it?”

his gaze stayed on you for a moment longer than necessary, like he was deciding something you weren’t in on, before he reached beside him and picked up a small bag, holding it out without standing.

you took it, fingers brushing his.

it wasn’t the first time that had happened. it was the first time neither of you pulled away quickly.

there was a pause, not awkward, not quite intentional either, just something that stretched a second longer than it should have.

you cleared your throat softly, shifting your weight. “how much?”

he didn’t answer right away.

he looked at you properly now, not just a glance, not just recognition, but something quieter, more focused, like he was trying to understand something that didn’t make sense to him.

“you don’t need to pay.” you huffed a little under your breath, like you’d expected that.

“you say that every time.”

“and you still ask.”

“because it’s weird” you replied, turning the bag slightly between your fingers. “you don’t do that for anyone else.”

“i know.” there was no hesitation in it, no attempt to explain.

you watched him for a second, trying to decide if you wanted to push it, but the truth was you already knew you wouldn’t get a real answer. he wasn’t the kind of person who filled silence just to make things easier. still, you didn’t move to leave.

normally, this was the part where you would, quick exchange, a few words at most, and then back downstairs before anyone started asking questions. it had always been simple like that.

but you stayed where you were, back still resting against the door, the noise from downstairs barely reaching you now.

he noticed, of course he did.

“you’re not going back down.” it wasn’t phrased like a question, but you answered anyway, shrugging slightly.

“don’t feel like it.”

“then why come at all?” you tilted your head, considering that for a second, like you hadn’t thought about it before.

“i knew you’d be here.”

something in his expression shifted at that, not much, not enough that anyone else would have caught it, but you did. you’d gotten used to noticing the small things with him, the almost invisible changes.

“that’s not a reason.”

“it is if i say so.”

he exhaled quietly, not quite a laugh, not quite anything else, and looked away from you for the first time since you walked in, like he needed a second to think.

the shift was subtle, but you felt it anyway, the way the space between you stretched just slightly, not with distance, but with something heavier settling in its place.

his gaze didn’t go far, just down, unfocused for a moment, like he was turning something over in his head that didn’t come easily.

his shoulders stayed relaxed, but there was a tension beneath it now, something quieter, less visible, the kind you only noticed if you were already paying attention.

and you were.

“you shouldn’t rely on that.”

the words landed softer than you expected, but they carried something weightier underneath, something that didn’t quite match the calm way he said them.

his eyes lifted back to you after, slower this time, like he was checking your reaction without making it obvious.

“on what?”

your voice came out steadier than you felt, even as the air in the room seemed to thicken, the quiet stretching around the two of you again.

“me being here.”

your grip tightened slightly around the bag, though you didn’t really mean for it to. “why not?”

he didn’t answer immediately, and the silence that followed didn’t feel empty, it felt full of something neither of you were saying, something that had been building in small pieces every time you walked into this room.

when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “i’m not someone you should get used to.” you watched him for a long moment, searching his face like there was something there you were supposed to understand.

maybe there was.

you just didn’t think you cared enough to listen to it. “too late,” you said simply, which got his attention again.

his eyes met yours, sharper this time, like he was trying to figure out if you meant it, if you even understood what you were saying. you held his gaze, not backing down, not filling the space with anything else.

and then, after a second, you pushed yourself off the door and stepped closer, not enough to crowd him, just enough that the distance between you didn’t feel like a barrier anymore.

“is that a problem?” you asked, softer now. he didn’t move, he didn’t look away.

“no ” he said, after a pause that felt longer than it should have been. “it’s just”

he trailed off, like the rest of the sentence didn’t come easily to him, like he wasn’t used to saying things he couldn’t take back.

you waited.

he glanced down briefly, then back up, and something about the way his expression settled made your chest feel a little tighter, though you couldn’t really explain why.

“…you stay.”

it wasn’t an accusation, if anything, it sounded like confusion. like he didn’t understand why you kept coming back, why you were still standing here when you had every reason not to be.

you swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were, how quiet the room had gotten compared to everything happening just one floor below.

“yeah” you said, just as quietly. “i do.”

neither of you moved after that.

the music thumped faintly through the walls, distant and irrelevant, like it belonged to a different place entirely. the air felt heavier, or maybe it was just the way he was looking at you now, like he was seeing something he hadn’t meant to notice.

your hand shifted slightly at your side, the bag still loosely held between your fingers, and without really thinking about it, you set it down on the edge of the bed beside him.

“i didn’t come just for that,” you admitted.

his gaze flicked to it briefly, then back to you. “i know.” of course he did. there was a beat of silence, and then another, each one stretching just enough to make you aware of everything you weren’t saying, everything he wasn’t either.

you could feel it, whatever this was, sitting somewhere between you, undefined, unspoken, but there all the same.

it made it hard to breathe normally.

“then why did you come?” he asked, voice lower now.

you opened your mouth to answer, but nothing immediate came out, nothing easy or simple enough to explain it away.

because it wasn’t simple. not really.

your eyes flicked to his lips for half a second before you caught yourself, and when you looked back up, he hadn’t missed it.

the shift in the room was immediate, subtle but undeniable, like something had finally tipped past the point where it could be ignored.

you stepped closer again, just enough that your knee brushed his where he sat on the edge of the bed, and this time neither of you pretended it didn’t happen.

his hand moved slightly, like he was going to reach for you, then stopped, fingers curling loosely against his palm instead.

“say it” he said, quieter now, but steadier.

you shook your head faintly, a small exhale leaving you.“you already know.” that was the problem. he did, just didn’t seem to understand what to do with it.

his gaze dropped again, not away this time, just lower, lingering for a second before returning to your face, and the way his jaw tightened made your pulse pick up in a way you couldn’t quite control.

neither of you were good at this. whatever this was, but neither of you were stepping back either.

the silence stretched between you, thick and electric, every unspoken word humming in the narrow space that remained.

his eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unreadable, but the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed against his thigh like he was fighting the urge to move, told you everything he wasn’t saying.

you didn’t wait for him to figure it out.

your hand lifted slowly, deliberately, and you let your fingertips brush along the sharp line of his jaw. his skin was warm, slightly rough with the faint shadow of stubble.

he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. his breath hitched, just barely, just enough for you to feel it against your palm.

“you should stop,” he murmured, voice low and rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet. his eyes flicked down to your mouth again, then back up. “you don’t understand what you’re asking for.”

your thumb traced the edge of his lower lip, slow and teasing, feeling the way his breath shuddered out at the contact. the bag you’d set aside was long forgotten. everything downstairs, the noise, the people, the world, felt a thousand miles away.

you leaned in closer, your knee pressing firmer between his legs where he sat on the edge of the bed, your body slotting naturally into the space he hadn’t closed off.

“then you should stop me,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath. “if you really think I don’t understand.”

his hand finally moved. not to push you away.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist, firm enough to hold you there, thumb pressing into your pulse point like he could feel how fast your heart was racing.

for a second, you thought he might actually pull your hand back. he didn’t. instead, he used that grip to tug you forward, closing the last inch between you.

the kiss wasn’t gentle.

it crashed into you the moment your lips met his, hungry, almost desperate, like he’d been holding back far longer than you realized.

his mouth was hot, demanding, the faint taste of something sharp and sweet lingering on his tongue as it slid against yours.

a low sound rumbled in his chest, half groan, half growl, and his free hand came up to grip the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair to angle you exactly how he wanted.

you melted into it instantly, your body pressing flush against his as you stood between his spread thighs. your hands found his shoulders, then slid up to cup his face, holding him there as the kiss deepened, turning messy and breathless.

teeth grazed your lower lip. his tongue moved like he was memorizing you, like he needed to claim every inch before either of you could think better of it.

when you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads stayed pressed together, breaths mingling hot and ragged. choso’s voice came out wrecked, barely more than a rasp. “you still don’t get it.”

your lips brushed his again, teasing, refusing to let the moment cool. “then show me.”

that seemed to snap whatever thread of restraint he had left.

his hands dropped to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise as he pulled you fully into his lap in one smooth motion. your knees sank into the mattress on either side of his thighs, straddling him as your chest pressed against his.

the new angle made everything sharper, the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, the hard line of his cock already straining against you through the fabric.

the way his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you still or grind you down harder.

you rocked against him instinctively, a soft moan escaping you at the friction. his head fell back slightly, eyes half lidded and dark with want as he watched you move.

“fuck” he breathed, the word rough and reverent all at once. one hand slid up your spine, under the hem of your shirt, palm hot against bare skin. “you really shouldn’t be here.”

“but i am” you whispered, leaning down to drag your lips along the column of his throat, feeling his pulse jump under your tongue.

you nipped lightly at the skin just below his ear, then soothed it with a slow lick. “and you’re not stopping me.”

his grip tightened, guiding your hips in a slow, deliberate roll against him. the pressure made sparks shoot up your spine, heat pooling low in your belly.

“no” he admitted, voice strained. his other hand slipped higher under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast, teasing but not quite giving you what you wanted. “i’m not.”

you kissed him again, harder this time, pouring every bit of that building tension into it, tongues sliding, teeth clashing, hands roaming.

his fingers finally cupped your breast fully, thumb circling your nipple until it peaked under his touch, drawing a gasp from you that he swallowed greedily.

clothes suddenly felt like too much. too many layers between you and the heat you both needed.

you tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he broke the kiss just long enough to let you pull it over his head, revealing the lean, tattooed expanse of his torso.

your hands explored greedily, tracing the dark ink that curled over his chest and shoulders, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under your palms.

choso didn’t give you long to look.

he flipped you suddenly, smooth and effortless, your back hitting the mattress as he loomed over you. his hair fell forward, framing his face as he stared down at you with that same intense, almost disbelieving hunger.

his hand slid down your body, pushing your shirt up as he went, lips following the path, kissing, licking, biting softly along your stomach, your ribs, until he reached the edge of your bra.

“you still have time to change your mind,” he murmured against your skin, voice vibrating through you.

but his fingers were already hooking under the fabric, eyes flicking up to yours like he was waiting for the word that would make him stop.

you didn’t say it.

you arched into his touch, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging him back up for another searing kiss.

“i’m not changing anything,” you breathed against his mouth. “so stop talking and fuck me, choso.”

a low, broken sound tore from his throat, something between a laugh and a groan.

his hands moved with purpose now, stripping away the last of your clothes, your bra tossed aside, pants and underwear dragged down your legs in one impatient motion.

cool air brushed your bare skin for only a second before he was on you again, his bare chest pressing flush against yours, the heat of him overwhelming.

he kissed you like he was starving for it, deep and consuming, while one large hand skimmed down your side, over the curve of your hip, and between your thighs.

his fingers found you already slick and aching. a low groan rumbled in his chest as he dragged two fingers through your folds, circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk.

“fuck… look at you,” he murmured against your lips, voice dark and rough. “so wet already. all this for me?”

you couldn’t answer with words, only a shaky moan as he pushed two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them instantly against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

he pumped them slowly at first, then faster, thumb working your clit in tight, relentless circles. your back arched off the bed, hands fisting the sheets as pleasure coiled hot and fast in your belly.

choso watched every reaction, eyes hooded and intense, drinking in the way you writhed beneath him.

when your walls started to flutter around his fingers, he pulled them out abruptly, ignoring your frustrated whine. “not yet,” he said, almost gently, though the strain in his voice betrayed how close he was to losing control.

he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, holding your gaze the entire time. the sight sent another rush of heat through you.

he shoved his own pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. it was thick, heavy, the head flushed dark and already leaking.

he gave himself one slow stroke, jaw clenched, before settling fully between your spread legs. the blunt head of his cock nudged against your entrance, sliding through your wetness teasingly.

he braced one hand beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

“last chance,” he rasped, voice wrecked. His eyes bored into yours, dark with lust and something deeper, something almost warning.

“tell me to stop if you don’t understand what this means.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, and pulled him closer. “i understand,” you whispered, then rocked your hips up, taking just the tip of him inside you. “just please, i need you cho”

a guttural sound tore from his throat.

he pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching you open with a delicious burn that quickly melted into pure pleasure.

when he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, both of you froze, breathing hard. you could feel him throbbing inside you, so deep it stole your breath.

“shit” he groaned, forehead dropping to yours. “you’re so fucking tight. taking me so well.” he stayed still for a long moment, letting you adjust, his control visibly fraying at the edges.

then he started to move, slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive nerve inside you.

the pace gradually built, thrusts growing harder, faster, until the bed creaked beneath you and the wet slap of skin against skin filled the room.

you clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs

locked tight around his waist as he drove into you. every powerful stroke pushed you higher, pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin, one hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave marks while the other braced beside your head, knuckles white against the sheets.

“fuck you feel perfect,” he panted hot against your ear, hips snapping forward with sharp, precise thrusts. “like you were made for this, for me.”

you could only moan his name in response, hips rising to meet every thrust, the coil in your belly drawing impossibly taut.

he shifted his angle slightly, hitting that spot inside you with every stroke until you were trembling, right on the edge.

his hand slipped between your bodies, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts.

“come for me,” he growled, voice low and commanding “let me feel you.”

the command sent you spiraling. pleasure slammed into you, white hot and overwhelming.

you cried out, back arching violently as your orgasm crashed through you, walls clenching rhythmically around his cock.

he fucked you through it, hips never faltering, drawing out every pulse and whimper until you were shaking beneath him.

his thrusts grew erratic, deeper, hips snapping against yours with raw urgency. you could feel him throbbing inside you, his breathing ragged and broken against your neck.

just as the tension in his body coiled impossibly tight, Choso started to pull back, trying to withdraw.

your legs locked around his waist instantly, heels digging hard into his lower back, holding him deep inside you. he froze, a strained groan tearing from his throat.

“why?” you whispered, voice husky and breathless, refusing to let him go even an inch.

his eyes met yours, dark and wild, jaw clenched tight “we’re not using a condom,” he rasped, the words rough and strained, like it took everything in him to get them out.

you didn’t hesitate. your fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips up to keep him buried to the hilt.

“come inside me,” you breathed against his lips, eyes locked on his. “i want you to.”

a low, broken sound ripped from his chest, half groan, half curse. his restraint shattered completely. he slammed back into you with one final, deep thrust, burying himself as far as he could go.

his hips ground hard against yours as he came, pulsing hot and thick inside you. the raw groan that tore from his throat was guttural, wrecked, vibrating through both of you while his body shuddered with the force of his release.

he stayed pressed flush against you, hips twitching with every spurt, like he couldn’t get close enough, like he never wanted to leave.

the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint, distant thump of music from downstairs.

he stayed buried deep inside you, his weight a solid, comforting press as he dropped his forehead to yours again.

his hand came up, surprisingly gentle, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. his thumb traced your cheekbone, then your swollen lower lip.

he didn’t speak right away. just looked at you, eyes dark and heavy with something far more complicated than lust, something raw and unguarded.

you reached up, tracing a lazy finger along the dark tattoos curling over his chest, feeling his heart still hammering under your touch.

he stayed there a moment longer, still joined with you, breathing you in, before carefully rolling to the side and pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest.

his arms wrapped around you possessively, one hand stroking slow, soothing patterns along your bare back as the aftershocks continued to hum through both of you.

the party could wait. the world downstairs could wait.

right now, there was only the quiet heat lingering in the room, your bodies tangled together, and the unspoken understanding that the line you’d just crossed had been waiting for both of you all along.

[requested by @baddestnerd ]

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

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[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ higuruma has a crush on his intern -last part

mdni. 2.8k all parts mlist

…

the storm had come down without warning and with no intention of passing, rain striking the windows in relentless sheets that blurred the city beyond into something distant and unreachable.

the glass trembling faintly under each heavier gust while the office lights cast a sterile glow over a space that felt far too large now that it had emptied.

you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten until the quiet settled in.

desks abandoned, monitors dimmed, the low hum of electricity replacing the usual murmur of voices. everything about it made the awareness sharper, more defined, until it became impossible to ignore the fact that you weren’t alone.

“you’re still here” his voice carried easily through the silence, controlled as always, though there was something in it that didn’t quite match the composure it was wrapped in, something just beneath the surface that made you glance up quicker than you meant to.

“the rain hasn’t eased” you replied, gathering your things with a focus that felt slightly too deliberate, as if concentrating on the simple act might steady something else entirely.

for a moment, it seemed like that would be the end of it, another brief exchange filed neatly into the boundaries you had both tried so carefully to maintain, but the pause that followed stretched just a fraction too long, just enough to feel intentional.

“i’ll drive you.”

the offer came without hesitation, and that was what unsettled you most, the lack of deliberation in it when everything else about him was so measured, so controlled, as if this decision had already been made before either of you had spoken.

you should have refused.

you knew you should have, if only to preserve what little distance remained, but the storm outside made that argument weaker than it should have been.

and the memory of everything that had happened earlier made it nearly impossible to pretend that distance still existed in any meaningful way.

so you nodded, quieter than before. “okay”

the rain swallowed the world the moment you stepped outside. heavy enough to drown out thought if you let it, striking the pavement in a constant rush that blurred edges and softened everything except the awareness of him beside you.

the umbrella did little to create space.

if anything, it forced proximity, drawing you closer than necessary. close enough that you could feel the occasional brush of his arm against yours, brief and seemingly incidental, yet neither of you adjusted to avoid it, neither of you stepped away.

the silence between you wasn’t empty, it carried too much.

every step felt measured, every movement restrained in a way that made the restraint itself obvious, deliberate, as if both of you were acutely aware of how little it would take for that control to slip.

by the time you reached the car, your pulse had settled into something uneven, not fast, but not steady either, the kind of rhythm that refused to be ignored.

the door closed with a solid, grounding sound, and suddenly the noise dulled, reduced to a steady percussion against the roof and glass.

the interior was dim, lit only by passing streetlights and the faint glow of the dashboard, and for a moment neither of you spoke, the quiet settling in thick and immediate.

the engine started and wipers began their rhythmic sweep.

he kept his eyes forward. you forced yourself to do the same. it should have been easy to slip back into something familiar, silence, distance, the careful professionalism that had defined everything before.

but the memory of his hand on you, of how close he had been, of how little space had existed between restraint and something else entirely, made the attempt feel almost absurd.

you folded your hands in your lap to stop them from fidgeting, then unfolded them only to have them betray you immediately, tracing absent patterns against your skin.

nothing grounded you.

“we’ll need to finalize the documents for tomorrow’s review” his voice broke through the quiet, calm and even, the words carefully neutral. as if he were offering you something familiar to hold onto, something safe.

you nodded, though your voice felt quieter than usual when you answered. “right.”

“that should be your priority in the morning”

“okay” and then, silence again.

the attempt at normalcy dissolved almost as soon as it had formed, leaving behind something heavier than before.

something that made it impossible to pretend that this was just another late night, just another ride home, just another conversation that could be contained within the boundaries you had both already crossed.

the rain pressed on and the wipers moved. your thoughts refusing to settle. you told yourself to let it go, to leave it alone.

to allow the silence to remain what it was and not risk breaking it open into something you couldn’t take back, but the longer it stretched, the more it shifted, until it stopped feeling like avoidance and started feeling like denial.

like he was choosing not to acknowledge it and you were expected to do the same. your chest tightened slightly at the thought, the frustration building slowly at first, subtle enough to ignore.

until it wasn’t, until it pressed insistently against the restraint you had been holding onto. the same restraint that now felt misplaced, almost pointless after everything that had already happened.

you inhaled, the breath catching halfway as doubt slipped in, quiet but persistent, reminding you of every reason you had tried not to cross that line, every reason you had tried to keep things as they were.

but things weren’t as they were. they hadn’t been for a while. and the silence sure wasn’t helping.

“you’re acting like that didn’t mean anything, but it did.”

the words came out before you could process them, not harsh, not accusatory, but not entirely controlled either, the edges softened by hesitation but still undeniably there.

he didn’t respond.

the car continued forward, steady, unaffected, as if your words hadn’t changed anything, as if they could be absorbed into the quiet and left there without acknowledgment.

but you couldn’t let them sit.

the admission hung in the air, heavier than anything else you had said, heavier than anything you had meant to say.

for a moment, the only sound was the rain and the steady rhythm of the wipers moving back and forth across the glass.

then something shifted, not abruptly or dramatically, but enough to be felt.

his grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, the movement subtle but deliberate, his jaw setting just enough to give away what his silence had been holding back.

a quiet exhale followed, without a word, he slowed the car. the motion was smooth, controlled, but unmistakable in its intent as he guided it to the side of the road.

the tires gliding over wet pavement before coming to a stop, the engine still running, the storm still surrounding you, but everything else suddenly feeling suspended.

for a moment, he didn’t move, until he turned.

the shift in his attention was immediate, complete in a way that made your breath catch before you could stop it, his gaze settling on you with a focus that felt different from before, no longer filtered through restraint or avoidance, but not entirely free of it either.

there was still control there but it wasn’t intact, and you could see that.

“you shouldn’t say things like that” his voice was low, even, carrying the same composure it always did, but there was something beneath it now.

something that hadn’t been there before, something that made the words feel less like a warning and more like a confession disguised as one.

“why not?” your voice came out softer than you intended, but steadier than you expected. the question hanging between you with a weight that neither of you could pretend not to feel.

his gaze didn’t waver. “you know why.”

maybe you did. maybe you didn’t.

but the moment stretched anyway, neither of you looking away, neither of you stepping back, the space between you narrowing not in distance, but in something far more dangerous, something that made the air feel warmer, heavier, harder to breathe through.

your pulse shifted, not racing, but uneven, each beat more noticeable than the last as his gaze dropped briefly, just for a second, to your lips before returning to your eyes.

that was all it took.

the last fragile piece of restraint gave way without either of you naming it, without either of you needing to. the understanding settling in quietly, completely, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

when he moved, it wasn’t sudden. it wasn’t reckless.

it was deliberate in a way that made it feel more significant than any impulsive action could have been, his hand lifting slowly, almost carefully, as if giving you time to react, time to pull away if you wanted to.

you didn’t.

his fingers brushed against you first, light but certain, the contact sending a sharp awareness through you that only deepened as his hand settled more firmly, steadying rather than hesitating, as if the decision had already been made long before this moment.

the space between you closed gradually, every movement measured in a way that made it impossible to ignore the intention behind it.

the quiet acknowledgment that this wasn’t something happening by accident, wasn’t something either of you could pretend had simply slipped out of your control.

your breath caught as he drew closer, the proximity shifting from awareness to presence, from something you could ignore to something you couldn’t escape, his gaze flickering once more before settling, unwavering now.

there was a moment, brief, where everything paused. where you could have stopped it. where he would have let you. but of course you didn’t.

the kiss carried a quiet authority, deliberate and precise, yet beneath it lay a weight that had been building for weeks.

a depth that made every brush of lips and touch feel inevitable, as if everything left unsaid until now had converged into this single moment.

his hand tightened slightly where it rested against you, not enough to restrain, but enough to anchor, the movement grounding in a way that made your pulse falter rather than race, your breath catching as the initial restraint gave way to something more certain.

you responded without thinking, without hesitation, the distance that had once existed between you gone entirely now, replaced by something far more immediate, far more difficult to ignore.

it deepened slowly, deliberately, the shift unhurried but unmistakable as the last traces of distance dissolved, leaving behind nothing but the quiet intensity of it.

the steady rhythm of the rain outside contrasting sharply with the way everything inside the car felt suspended, contained within that single point of contact.

and for the first time since it had all begun. neither of you pulled away.

-

the kiss didn’t stay careful for long.

it started with that same deliberate pressure, but the moment your lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, the restraint they’d both clung to for months finally snapped.

the kiss turned hungry, slow at first, but deepening with every stroke, every slide of tongue against tongue. he tasted like the coffee he’d been drinking earlier, dark and bitter, mixed with something hotter, something that made your head spin.

a low, barely there growl vibrated from his chest into your mouth when you sucked lightly on his tongue, and the sound sent a sharp pulse straight between your legs.

your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging just hard enough to tilt his head back a fraction. he answered instantly by pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your spine while the other gripped your hip like he was afraid you might disappear.

the console dug into your thigh as you tried to shift nearer, the awkward angle only heightening the frustration simmering under your skin.

he broke the kiss with a ragged breath, forehead pressed to yours, eyes dark and heavy lidded. “come here” he said, voice rough, almost hoarse.

his hands were already moving, strong, sure, guiding you over the center console. you climbed awkwardly at first, knee bumping the gear shift, but then you were straddling his lap, thighs spreading wide around his hips.

the second your weight settled on him, a sharp hiss escaped his teeth. you could feel him already half-hard beneath you.

the thick line of his length pressing up through his slacks, and the realization made heat flood your face and your core at the same time.

for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. the rain hammered the roof. the windows were starting to fog.

the only light came from distant streetlights bleeding through the downpour, casting shifting shadows across his face.

his hands rested heavy on your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft dip just above your hipbones, holding you exactly where you were. his chest rose and fell faster now, controlled breaths turning uneven.

then you rocked forward, just once, experimentally, and his grip tightened hard enough to bruise.

“fuck” he muttered, the word low and strained against your lips before he claimed your mouth again.

this kiss was heavier.

wetter.

tounges tangled with open desperation, teeth grazing lips, breaths shared in short, hot gasps between kisses.

you rolled your hips again, slower this time, dragging yourself along the rigid length of him. the friction dragged a broken sound from both of you at once.

his hands slid down to your rear, fingers digging in as he pulled you tighter against him, guiding your movements into a slow, torturous grind.

the tension coiled tighter in your belly with every roll of your hips. every time you pressed down, you could feel how hard he was getting, how perfectly he fit between your thighs even through too many layers of clothes.

your skirt had ridden up, bunching around your waist, and the thin fabric of your panties was already damp, sliding slickly against the bulge in his slacks.

each deliberate rock sent sparks shooting up your spine, building that aching pressure higher and higher, never quite enough.

his mouth left yours to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your jaw, then your throat. when he reached the sensitive spot just below your ear, he sucked hard enough to make your hips stutter.

you gasped, nails scraping lightly down the back of his neck. he retaliated by sliding one hand under your blouse, palm hot and rough against your bare back, fingers tracing your spine before flicking open your bra with a single practiced motion.

the straps loosened. his hand moved around, cupping your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles that made it tighten instantly under his touch.

you arched into his palm, a soft whimper escaping before you could stop it. he groaned against your neck, the vibration traveling straight through you, and rolled his hips up to meet yours, harder this time, more insistent.

“god, you feel- ” he didn’t finish the sentence.

instead, he pulled you down into another deep kiss, tongue stroking yours in the same slow rhythm as the grind of your bodies.

the car was getting warmer, air thick with the scent of rain on skin, the faint trace of his cologne, and the unmistakable musk of arousal.

the windows were fully fogged now, cutting the two of you off from the storm outside, sealing you in this small, heated space where every sound, every wet slide of mouths, every ragged breath, every quiet moan was amplified.

you could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

the way his thighs flexed beneath you, the way his fingers trembled slightly as they kneaded your ass, the way his cock throbbed against you with every roll of your hips.

he was holding back, still, just barely.

you could sense it in the way his jaw clenched when you ground down particularly hard, in the low, guttural sound he made when your nails dragged across his chest after you’d managed to pop open a few more buttons of his shirt.

but that control was fraying fast.

his free hand slipped under your skirt, gripping bare thigh, sliding higher until his fingertips brushed the edge of your soaked panties.

he paused there, breath hot against your mouth, eyes locked on yours in the dim light, dark, intense, silently asking.

you answered by leaning in and biting his lower lip, then soothing it with your tongue. and the last thread of restraint snapped.

he pulled you flush against him, mouth crashing into yours with raw need, hips rolling up to meet every desperate grind of yours.

the friction was maddening now, wet, hot, relentless. every slow drag of your clothed core along his cock sent jolts of pleasure through you, building that tight, coiling ache deeper and deeper until you were trembling on his lap, chasing release you could almost taste.

neither of you was stopping this time.

the storm outside could rage all night inside the car, because the real storm had only just begun.

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . sorry for the wait but it’s finally finished i loved this series hope you guys enjoyed it <3

⌗ taglist

@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @ditzypinkbow @daisybynight @hishiroswhim

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ something got lost between how megumi acted and what he meant -texts

mdni. timeskip part two mlist

༯ all right reserved | no ai input. ©unknvhx

˗ˏˋ a|n . this will have a part two!! also my uploads will start pick up soon, i’ve just been really busy i promise i will get to all your requests.

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@kurtcobaingirlie @nanamissweetheart @only4sukuna @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sunqueenz1 @carriemill @baddestnerd @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @sugerfilled @prim-prev @blueberrycandymuffin @ditzypinkbow @daisybynight @hishiroswhim

[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ you’re pretty when you cry -fratjo

mdni. 1.3k mlist

…

the music is too loud to think, which is exactly why you came.

bass pulses through the walls of the frat house, rattling cheap picture frames and vibrating up through the soles of your shoes, a steady, numbing thrum that drowns out everything else.

the conversations, the laughter, the way your thoughts tend to spiral when given even a second of quiet.

it’s easier this way, tucked into the noise, red cup sweating in your hand as you hover on the edge of someone else’s conversation, smiling at the right moments, nodding like you belong.

across the room, gojo is the center of it all. he always is.

it isn’t just that people gather around him, it’s that they orbit, drawn in by something effortless and blinding, like standing too close to a light you know you shouldn’t look at directly.

he leans back against the counter, head tipped slightly as he laughs at something someone says, one hand loosely wrapped around a girl’s wrist as if he’s known her forever.

his touch looks careless. easy. like it doesn’t mean anything, which it probably doesn’t.

your gaze lingers a second too long, and maybe he feels it, because his eyes flick toward you, just for a moment. recognition sparks, brief and unmistakable, before it disappears just as quickly.

he doesn’t wave. doesn’t call you over. just looks away, already pulled back into the gravity of everyone else. you swallow, forcing your lips into something that resembles a smile, even as something small and sharp settles under your ribs.

it’s fine. it’s always fine.

you turn back to the conversation, but the words start slipping, losing their shape before they reach you. someone says your name, you think, and you nod again, too quickly this time, the smile straining at the edges.

the room feels warmer, tighter, like the air has thickened into something you have to push through.

it shouldn’t matter. he’s just, he’s just gojo, and you’re just- you don’t stay long enough to finish the thought.

the hallway is quieter, the music muffled into a dull, distant rhythm that follows you like a heartbeat you can’t escape.

you don’t know where you’re going, only that you need out, away from the lights, from the people, from the way your chest feels like it’s caving in on itself. the bathroom door barely clicks shut before it hits you.

it starts small, like it always does, a tightness in your throat, a burn behind your eyes you try to blink away.

one shaky breath that turns into another and then another, until you’re gripping the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection as it blurs.

“don’t” you whisper to yourself, like that’s ever worked. “not here.” your voice sounds thinner than you expect.

the first tear slips anyway, carving a warm line down your cheek, and something in you gives way all at once, the careful composure you’ve been holding together all night unraveling faster than you can catch it.

you press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle it, trying to stay quiet, because the last thing you need is someone walking in, seeing you like this.

the door opens, you freeze.

for a second, neither of you speaks. you don’t even turn fully, just enough to see him in the mirror, tall and unmistakable in the doorway.his white hair catching the dim light as he pauses like he wasn’t expecting to find you here, but not surprised, either.

of course it’s him, it’s always fucking him.

“…hey” gojo says, softer than you’ve ever heard him. you laugh, but it comes out wrong, uneven and wet. “don’t. just… go away.” of course he doesn’t.

the door clicks shut behind him, and you can hear his footsteps as he crosses the small space, unhurried, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

you grip the sink tighter, knuckles whitening, refusing to look at him as he stops just behind you. close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the faint scent of something clean cutting through the stale air.

“you’re gonna ruin your makeup” he murmurs. something in your chest twists. “i don’t care.”

“i know.” there’s a pause, and when you finally glance up, he’s already watching you, really watching.

not the fleeting glance from across the room, but something slower, more intent, like he’s taking in every detail. “you don’t look at anyone like this out there”

you breath catches. “like what?”

“like you’re about to fall apart.”

the words land heavier than they should, settling somewhere deep and uncomfortable.

you shake your head, turning away, but he reaches out before you can move past him, fingers gentle as they tilt your chin back toward him.

you should pull away, but you don’t.

up close, his expression is different, quieter, stripped of the easy amusement he wears around everyone else.

his thumb brushes just beneath your eye, catching a tear before it can fall, and the touch is so careful it almost feels like it means something.

“you’re prettier like this” he says. the breath leaves you in a sharp, disbelieving exhale. “what is wrong with you?”

“nothing.” his voice is light, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “you just stop pretending.”

“i wasn’t-” you cut yourself off, because even you don’t believe that. not really.

silence stretches between you, thick with everything you’re not saying. you can hear the music through the walls again, louder now, like it’s reminding you where you are, what this is, just another party, just another moment that shouldn’t matter.

“you didn’t care before” you say finally, the words slipping out before you can stop them. he tilts his head slightly. “before what?”

“before this.” you gesture vaguely, at your face, your shaking hands, the mess of you. “you saw me. you just, didn’t come over.” something flickers in his expression, quick and unreadable.

“and now you’re here,” you continue, quieter. “funny how that works.”

he doesn’t deny it. instead, he steps closer, close enough that your back presses lightly against the counter, his hand still resting at your jaw like he’s forgotten to move it.

“because this is when you need me,” he says. the words should feel comforting. they don’t.

they settle in your chest like something heavy and wrong, because there’s a difference, a subtle, terrible difference between being needed and being wanted, and you’re starting to realize which one this is.

your throat tightens. “that’s not”

“what?” he interrupts gently. “not true?” you hate that you hesitate.

you hate that your eyes sting again, that your body betrays you so easily, leaning into his touch just slightly, chasing the warmth of it even as your mind screams that you shouldn’t.

“you only come around when i’m like this” you whisper. another pause. longer this time. then, quietly, “yeah.” no apology or excuse, just the truth.

it should be enough to make you step back, to push him away, to finally break whatever this is before it settles into something permanent and impossible to escape.

instead, you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes, and when his hand shifts, sliding from your jaw to cup your cheek more fully, you don’t stop him.

because he’s here now.

because he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in this moment, like he sees you in a way no one else does, even if it’s only in pieces, even if it only happens when you’re breaking.

because some part of you, the part you try not to listen to, wonders if that’s enough.

his thumb traces the path of another tear, slow and deliberate, and you feel it all the way down to your bones.

“don’t cry too often” he murmurs, almost absentminded. “i might get used to it.” your breath hitches, something fragile and aching splintering under the weight of it, and still, you don’t move.

somewhere, distantly, you think about tomorrow, about the way he’ll laugh again, the way he’ll look through you like he did tonight, like this never happened.

you think about how it will hurt. and how, eventually, it will happen again.

his hand in your hair, his voice soft, his attention yours only when you’re unraveling. you think about all of that, and stay anyway.

because right now, in the quiet space between the music and your uneven breathing, he’s looking at you like this is the only version of you he’s ever wanted.

and you don’t know how to stop wanting that back.

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[unknvhx]

‎ꫂ᭪݁ pre relationship choso trying to make the first move

mdni. mlist

…

choso’s hands twitch like they ache to touch you, but he doesn’t know where to start. fingers hover just shy of your skin, despite how long you’ve been close.

his eyes drop to your lips, dark and hungry, then flick back to yours, silently asking if it’s okay. cheeks flushed, breath shallow, every tiny movement loud in the quiet intimacy you’ve shared so many times before.

you reach out, brushing your fingers over his, guiding him. he flinches at first, then melts into it, eager and trembling, like he’s discovering a new side of you, and himself, for the first time.

when he leans in, it’s hesitant, clumsy, lips barely grazing yours, but you feel the need behind it, the way he’s holding back to not lose himself.

he freezes halfway, eyes wide, pulse hammering, waiting for you.

you smile, tug him closer, whispering against his mouth, “keep going.”

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@sunqueenz1 @baddestnerd @only4sukuna @nanamissweetheart @lvrnotfghtr @wqsrs @sugerfilled @kurtcobaingirlie @prim-prev @itsnotanyboduthatyouknow @carriemill