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loafteaw · 6 days ago

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oml AAAAA

IF I WAS A BAD BITCH, I'D WANNA F★CK ME TOO! ၄၃ gojo satoru x female reader x (female?!) gojo satoru

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship. threesome featuring m & f gojo. dom! gojo(s), sub reader. bisexual reader. slight cnc/dubcon. marathon sex. fingering. voyeurism + cucking. humping. finger-sucking. the big three: praise, humiliation and degradation. jealousy-fueled and dare i say competitive sex. oral (f. giving & receiving, m. giving and receiving). p in v, creampies. hair-pulling. clit slapping. overstimulation, mind break. doggy (backshots woohoo!), chain link, tower bridge. lots of aftercare and a happy + crack ending (thank you flix)

happy (early) birthday to the honoured dick one. the strongest in bed. i know his birthday is in december but i needed u all to read this right now. so enjoy nine thousand three hundered words of filth, from me to you, with all the love possible <3. i wrote female gojo with @/owwllly's version in mind, so please show them your love xx this has been my fav threesome fic to write!! dedicated to my pookie daph aka @curtins - there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !!

— masterlist here ☆

"so you're telling me... this happened because you couldn’t mind your business?" you deadpan, arms crossed as you stare at two very identical gojo satoru’s in your living room. one of them is busy fiddling with infinity while the other is lounging on your couch like she owns the place — wolfcut, tight black turtleneck, and a smirk that could rival the original's arrogance.

“technically, i was minding my business,” the og gojo protests, leaning back against the wall with his usual, unbothered grin. “baby, ’s not my fault the curse decided to spice things up and give you, like, a bogo deal on me. you're welcome, by the way."

"bogo?" you repeat, staring at him blankly. "buy one, get one? 'toru, this isn’t a trip to the mall — this is a problem."

“problem?!” the female gojo pipes up, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “babe, this is a blessing. look at me — don’t i just scream perfection?” she runs her hands dramatically down her torso, pausing to cup her very impressive pair of tits. “and these? way better than whatever he’s working with.”

“hey!” the og gojo snaps, looking genuinely offended for once. “my pecs are great! they’re sculpted by gods!”

“oh please.” she waves him off, smirking. “you can bench press all ya want, but nothin' competes with these.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “great. now there’s two of you and you’re already competing with each other. this is exactly what my therapist warned me about.”

"your therapist doesn’t even know her," og gojo interjects, before muttering, "probably thinks i'm better."

“knows me?” the female gojo raises a brow, mimicking his exact tone. “honey, i am you — just hotter and with better hair.”

“oh, please, my hair is iconic —”

“only ‘cuz i have it now —”

“okay, shut up, both of you,” you groan, cutting through their bickering. “are we just ignoring the fact that this situation is insane? one of you is going to have to fix this. preferably him,” you gesture to your boyfriend, “because i’m sure as hell not trusting the version of you who discovered boobs for the first time an hour ago.”

"that’s fair,” female gojo shrugs. “i got distracted for a good ten minutes.”

“ten?” og gojo snorts. “please, i bet you’re still distracted.”

“better than looking like an overgrown snow cone —”

“that’s it!” you snap, cutting them off again. “you’re both sleeping on the floor until this gets fixed!”

they stare at you, identical smirks creeping onto their faces. the synchronization is downright creepy.

“what?” you snap.

“you mean we can’t sleep next to you?” female gojo teases, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “oh, baabbyy, don’t be like that. we’ll make it work. one on each side, warm and cozy…”

“dream on!” you yell, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at both of them.

despite your protests, you eventually settle into bed, burying yourself under the covers in hopes that sleep will somehow make this bizarre situation feel a little less insane in the morning. your boyfriend is sulking on the couch — he’s got that kicked puppy look down to a science, complete with dramatic sighs and pointed glances your way every time he fluffs the pillow. you ignore him. you deserve this break.

or at least, you thought you did.

the bed dips behind you, and you freeze, already knowing who it is before she even opens her mouth.

“hey,” female gojo whispers conspiratorially, her voice a softer, almost sultry version of your boyfriend’s usual annoying tone. “girl’s night, right? let’s talk about feelings and, like… skincare or whatever. isn’t that what girls do?”

“go back to the couch,” you mutter, trying not to sound as mortified as you feel.

“oh, come onnn,” she presses, shifting closer. “i’m technically you now. you, me, and him — we’re a team. solidarity and alla that.”

“team or not, you’re still satoru,” you grumble, rolling over to glare at her. “and you’re supposed to be fixing this, not playing barbie dreamhouse with my sanity.”

she gasps, clutching her chest as though you’d just gravely insulted her. “barbie dreamhouse? wow, honey, that’s just rude.”

you sigh, already exhausted, and roll back over, resolutely closing your eyes. “goodnight.”

except she doesn’t leave.

instead, she shuffles even closer, slipping under the covers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“what the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice muffled by your pillow.

“it’s called cuddling. girlhood, babe. embrace it.”

you groan, but it’s drowned out by the warmth of her pressing against your back, her arm draping over your waist like she’s done this a hundred times before. the touch is familiar — too familiar — but also distinctly… different. softer, almost delicate, but with that same satoru confidence you’ve grown used to.

you’re about to relax when — oh.

oh no.

that’s definitely her tits pressing against you.

“seriously?” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you shift uncomfortably.

“what?” she hums innocently, though you can practically hear the smirk in her tone. “they’re natural, by the way. in case you were wondering.”

you roll your eyes so hard they might fall out of your head. “get off me.”

“nah. you’re comfy.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“you love it,” she whispers, cuddling closer, her breath warm against the back of your neck.

meanwhile, from the couch, your boyfriend groans dramatically. “wooww, guess i’m not needed anymore! don’t mind me, just a lonely man being replaced by his better half!”

you groan louder this time, burying your face in the pillow. “i hate both of you.”

“you’ll get over it,” female gojo chirps.

you’re not so sure.

you drift into a restless sleep, but it’s not long before something — someone — pulls you back into a groggy haze. at first, you think it’s just the weight of her arm slung over your waist, the kind of innocent touch you’ve grown used to from satoru, only now softer, smaller.

but then you feel it: nimble fingers ghosting the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your skin with maddening lightness.

your eyes snap open, and before you can twist around, you hear her chuckle — a low, almost predatory sound.

"eaasy, babe," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear as she burrows closer, her chest flush against your back. "don’t wanna wake him, do you?"

your heart skips a beat, half from the sensation of her lips brushing the shell of your ear, half from the realization that your boyfriend is right down the hallway.

“what the hell are you doing?” you hiss, your voice barely audible, but it only makes her grin wider. you can’t see it, but you can feel it in the way her teeth graze your neck, her nose nuzzling against your skin.

“just havin’ a little fun,” she murmurs, her fingers dipping slightly lower, teasing. "you’re sooo uptight. ’s cute."

“stop,” you whisper, though your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. you’re painfully aware of every point of contact — her fingers, her chest pressed against you, the way her legs tangle with yours like she’s been doing this forever.

“oh, come on,” she purrs, lips trailing a featherlight path up your neck. “you can pretend to hate this allll ya want, but she’s kinda telling a different story, babe.”

your breath catches as her fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, and you bite your lip to stifle a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“shhhhh,” she teases, her voice dripping with amusement. “don’t wanna wake him. imagine the tantrum he’d throw.”

“'toru,” you snap in a whisper, barely managing to keep your voice steady, “you’re impossible.”

“she is impossible,” she corrects smugly, emphasizing the distinction. “and you love it.”

you squirm, trying to shift away, but it only earns you a low chuckle and a firmer hold around your waist.

“relax,” she coos, her fingers retreating just enough to drive you insane. “’m just here to keep ya company. whether that means getting a rise out of you or, y’know... edgin’ this pretty lil’ pussy for the rest of the night? your call.”

you swallow hard, caught between indignation and the way her touch sets your nerves on fire.

“make your choice, babe,” she whispers, her voice playful but laced with a dangerous edge.

“just try not to moan too loud. wouldn’t wanna give him ideas.”

you close your eyes, torn between cursing her and praying she doesn’t stop.

this night just got so much longer.

your brain is waging the ultimate war, a full-on battlefield of ethics versus… whatever this situation even is.

is it cheating if it’s your boyfriend’s hot female counterpart? technically, it’s still satoru, right? like, some weird multiverse loophole you could maybe rationalize later when guilt comes knocking.

but right now, the only thing knocking is your resolve, which is hanging by a thread as those nimble fingers dance along your clothed slit, teasing just enough to drive you to madness.

you bite down on your lip, a mix of frustration and need building as she leans in closer, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "you’re thinkin’ so loud, honey. wanna share with the class?”

“shut up,” you hiss, squirming as her fingers dip a little lower, just brushing the edge of your clothed clit.

she laughs softly, the sound rich and teasing, as if she’s enjoying how much you’re struggling. “ohhh, ya gonna give in, aren’t cha?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “ya so cute when you’re pretending to resist.”

your breathing hitches as she presses her palm against your clothed cunt, her fingers tracing delicate, torturous circles. it’s enough to make you curse the heavens for whatever cursed logic landed you here but also enough to make you moan softly despite yourself.

“fuck it,” you mutter under your breath, the words more to yourself than to her, and you stop fighting, letting her fingers dip inside your panties.

her grin is unmistakable — so much like satoru’s but with an edge of mischief that’s uniquely her own. “there she is,” she whispers, and her fingers find your clit, circling it with the kind of precision that makes your whole body tense.

“jesus christ,” you gasp, your hand shooting out to grip the sheets as she keeps her pace slow, deliberate, almost cruel in its teasing.

“nah,” she chuckles, her lips brushing against your neck, “just satoru. but you can scream my name later if ya want.”

you stifle a groan, your mind racing between indignation and the hot, electric sensation pooling low in your stomach.

“careful,” she teases, voice low and smug. “wouldn’t wanna wake him, would you? unless…” she pauses, fingers pressing a little harder, “...you want him to watch.”

you choke on a mix of a gasp and a protest, twisting slightly to glare at her, but the sharp look you’re going for is lost in the haze of heat clouding your brain.

“you’re the worst,” you manage to whisper, though it lacks any real bite.

“and yet, here you are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “enjoying every second of it.”

she’s not wrong, and that realization alone might kill you.

you never thought you’d find yourself in a situation like this — not that you were opposed to the idea. women were great, truly a gift to the world.

but how many people could say they were being finger fucked by their boyfriend’s female counterpart? it was such a specific, cursedly unique predicament that you almost wanted to laugh.

almost.

if you weren’t too busy biting back a moan as her fingers worked you with an infuriating rhythm.

the obscene sounds were soft, but in the quiet of the room, they echoed like a symphony of sins you’d be reckoning with later. and when her other hand pressed against your lips, fingers tapping lightly, you didn’t even hesitate.

you took them into your mouth, sucking with enough fervor to have her humming appreciatively behind you.

“oh, you’re full of surprises,” she purred, her tone dripping with amusement. her nails — surprisingly manicured and oddly elegant — scraped against your tongue, and you felt a shiver crawl down your spine. “never took ya for someone with an oral fixation. should i be jealous of him?”

you glared up at her weakly, but it only made her grin grow wider.

“no need to get all pouty, baby,” she teased, pulling her hand away with a wet pop! before dragging her nails down the side of your face in mock affection. “you’re already givin' me plenty of attention.”

“you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, your voice muffled by a moan as her fingers curled inside you just right, hitting a spot that made your legs tremble.

“and yet, here you are,” she countered smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “suckin' my fingers like you’re starved for it. but don’t worry pretty, i’ve got plenty to give.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, torn between mortification and the unbearable heat flooding your veins.

“close enough,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against your ear as her fingers continued their relentless, torturous pace. “but you can scream that louder later. just remember to keep it down for him, yeah? wouldn’t wanna give him a heart attack.”

as if on cue, you heard your boyfriend shift on the couch down the hallway, groaning in his sleep.

her grin pressed against your skin, smug as ever. “looks like we’re on a time limit. better make it count, babe.”

it’s almost like she wants to be caught.

you can feel it in the deliberate pace of her fingers, the smug curl of her lips pressed against your ear, and the way her voice dips just low enough to make you think she’s daring him to walk in.

what’s he gonna do, anyway? accuse you of cheating? on him?

with him?

the thought’s absurd, hilarious even, if not for the way your brain is too scrambled to dwell on it.

“you’re so tense,” she purrs, her tone that perfect mix of teasing and filth, her fingers quickening their pace with a precision that’s downright sinful. “relax, ma. you’re doing so well f’me.”

“sh-shut up,” you hiss, though it lacks conviction, your voice shaky and edged with desperation. the familiar, blinding heat in your stomach coils tighter, threatening to snap as her movements grow more deliberate.

but she doesn’t shut up — of course, she doesn’t.

“awww, don’t get shy on me now,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as her lips ghost along your jawline. her words spill out like poison dipped in honey, filthy and deliberate.

“you’re sooo close, aren’t ya? can feel it, babe. you’re twitching around my fingers. think you’ll cum before he wakes up?”

you choke on a whimper, your head spinning as her words sink deep into your hazy mind. the wet, obscene shlick, shlick sounds of her fingers working you only makes it worse, the sound bouncing off the walls and mocking any remaining shred of dignity you have left.

“don’t fight it,” she coos, nipping lightly at your earlobe. “you wanna cum sooo bad. just do it, babe. be a good girl for me.”

the knot in your stomach pulls impossibly tight, her voice the final push as she angles her fingers just right, and you’re gone.

you tremble, your hands gripping the sheets like a lifeline as your release crashes through you in waves so intense that you’re outright whimpering. the sound spills out before you can bite it back, and she takes full advantage, her fingers slowing just enough to draw it out, prolonging your undoing.

“thaaat’s it,” she hums, satisfaction dripping from her voice. “good girl.”

you gasp for air, your body slack against hers as she finally pulls her hand away, leaving you boneless and dazed.

“see?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, her tone still annoyingly smug. “told ya'd like it.”

before you can snap back, you hear a groan from the hallway — your boyfriend stirring on the couch.

“oops,” she whispers, her voice featherlight but laced with mischief as she leans closer to your ear. “think he heard that?”

⋆˙⟡ —

gojo was not having it.

being sentenced to the couch while he — or she — got to hog your warmth? outrageous.

what kind of half-assed excuse was "girl’s night" anyway? he was the epitome of versatility! gender fluidity incarnate! hell, he’d rock a pair of heels better than most and still kick ass.

he rolled onto his back with a huff, staring at the ceiling and debating his next move.

screw it. he wasn’t about to let himself — herself — win. this was his girlfriend, damn it.

with a frustrated groan, he dragged himself off the couch, trudging down the hallway. barefoot and irritated, he rehearsed what he’d say as he barged in, fully intent on dragging her ass out and reclaiming his rightful spot in your bed.

but the second he opened the door, all those thoughts evaporated.

his jaw dropped, his cerulean eyes widening behind the curtain of his disheveled hair.

there you were, his sweet, pliant girlfriend, lying there with your head tilted back, cheeks flushed, and lips wrapped around fem gojo’s fingers.

and the smell — fuck, the smell of you hung thick in the air, so sweet and heady it made his knees damn near buckle. it hit him like a freight train, and with it came a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle: shock, irritation, a twinge of jealousy, and, much to his own annoyance, arousal.

“are you serious right now?” his voice rang out, low and sharp, cutting through the quiet of the room.

you froze, your eyes snapping open as you turned to look at him. fem gojo, on the other hand, smirked, her fingers lazily slipping out of your mouth with an exaggerated pop!

“oh, hey,” she drawled, utterly unbothered by his presence. “took ya long enough.”

“what the hell is this?” he gestured vaguely at the two of you, his gaze bouncing between your guilty expression and her smug one.

“girl’s night,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone so casual it made his eye twitch.

“girl’s night?” he repeated, his voice climbing an octave. “girl’s night doesn’t include —” he waved his hands, “ —whatever this is!”

“reelaxx, dude,” she cooed, sitting up slightly but still keeping one possessive hand on your thigh. “you’re overreacting.”

“overreacting?!”

you flinched at his tone, but she didn’t budge, only grinning wider.

“jealous, are we?” she teased, leaning back into the pillows like she owned the place. “don’t worry, there’s plenty of her to go around.”

his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “you think this is funny?”

“a little,” she admitted, cocking her head. “but it’s fun when you’re mad.”

he stormed over to the bed, yanking the covers off with dramatic flair.

“get out,” he demanded, pointing toward the door.

“make me,” she challenged, her grin growing downright wicked.

oh, that was it.

“fine,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “you wanna play games? let’s play.”

in one swift motion, he was crawling onto the bed, caging both of you in with his presence. his gaze flicked to you, burning and possessive, before turning back to her.

“you started this,” he growled, “so you better keep up.”

she raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh, i’ll keep up.”

you swallowed hard, caught between their clashing egos and the growing heat simmering between the three of you.

this was about to get very interesting.

his hand clamps around your neck before you can even register what’s happening, yanking you into his lap like you weigh nothing. the surprised squeal that escapes your lips is muffled instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours in a kiss so sloppy, so overwhelming, it leaves you gasping. his tongue dominates yours, hot and unrelenting, and you barely have time to catch your breath before he pulls away, his next words like a slap to your dignity.

“you’re such a fuckin' mess,” he growls, his free hand coming down sharply on your ass with a loud smack!, the sting sends a jolt through you, and your body involuntarily arches against him. “lettin' her get her hands allll over you like a desperate little slut.”

you whimper, the sound earning a low, derisive laugh from him as he lands another smack!, his hand squeezing the soft flesh just to watch it jiggle.

“you like that, huh?” he sneers, his grip tightening around your neck just enough to make your head spin. “bet you’re fuckin' soaked, aren’t cha? letting anyone who’ll touch you have a go. pathetic.”

“not anyone,” fem gojo pipes up from her spot on the bed, her voice laced with amusement. “just me. well, technically you. so you’ve only got yourself to blame, babe.”

he shoots her a glare, his lips curling into a snarl, but she doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. in fact, she looks downright entertained, one hand lazily palming her tits through her shirt, her grin smug as she watches the scene unfold.

“don’t mind me,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “’m just enjoyin' the view. gotta say, though, you’ve got good taste.”

you shudder at the low hum in her voice, your face burning as her gaze flicks to where your body presses against his, her smirk deepening.

“shut up,” he snaps, his hand sliding down to your hip to yank you harder against him. “this is my show now.”

“oh, by all means,” she chuckles, leaning back on her elbows as her fingers toy her nipples. “don’t let me stop you. though, technically, this is still me giving her what she wants.”

he growls, his grip on you tightening as he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes narrowing. “you’re mine,” he hisses, the words like a brand against your skin. “doesn’t matter what fucking form i’m in. you get that?”

you nod weakly, your body trembling as his other hand lands another sharp smack! to your ass, drawing a coo of delight from his female counterpart.

“good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours before claiming them again, rough and punishing.

“now, let’s see if you can prove it.”

“oh, this is getting good,” fem gojo says with a delighted laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she settles in to watch the show — completely unbothered and clearly relishing every second of it.

⋆˙⟡ —

you’re losing it. outright losing it.

it was bad enough when gojo insisted on doing you in front of the mirror, forcing you to watch as he destroyed every last shred of your dignity.

but this? this was next level.

having someone else watch — and not just anyone, but the female version of him, sitting there with that same smug smirk plastered across her face as she enjoyed the show — this wasn’t on your bingo card for the year.

and yet, you couldn’t lie to yourself. the heat pooling between your legs was unmistakable, your slick soaking through the fabric of your panties and seeping onto his clothed crotch. the mess you were making was evident, each grind against him creating an obscene wet sound that seemed to echo in the room.

“oh, babe,” fem gojo moaned, her head tilting back as her hands finally slid under her shirt, teasing the plush swell of her chest. “are ya sure you’re not doin' this f'me? ‘cause this is better than any mirror show.”

“shut it,” male gojo snapped, his lips pulling away from yours, a string of spit connecting you as he shot her a glare. “you’re lucky i haven’t kicked your ass out yet.”

“please,” she purred, rolling her nipples between her fingers with a soft moan, her smirk growing wider. “you’re not kicking me out of anything. besides —” her gaze flicked to you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, “ — she doesn’t seem to mind me being here. do you, pretty?”

you whimpered, the humiliation and arousal swirling together in a heady cocktail that made it impossible to think straight.

“answer her,” male gojo growled, his hand sliding down to grab your ass, forcing you to grind harder against him. “or are you too dumb to use your words?”

“i — i —” your voice broke into a soft moan, your hands clutching his shoulders for support as you buried your face in his neck, unable to meet her eyes.

“look at you,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “such a good girl, falling apart like that. and here i thought you were the composed one.”

“don’t get used to it,” male gojo bit out, yanking you back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and commanding. “you’re mine, got it? doesn’t matter if it’s her or me watching. you’re still only ever gonna fall apart for me.”

“you’re so possessive,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with mockery as her hands continued their lazy exploration under her shirt. “'s cute, honestly. but you can’t deny it’s a little hot watching her fall apart like that.”

“you really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he snapped, but the irritation in his voice was edged with something else, something darker, like her words were getting to him too.

“oh, i know when,” she said with a sultry grin, her fingers tweaking her nipples with a sharp intake of breath. “but where’s the fun in that?”

you gasped as his hips jerked up against you, the friction sending another wave of heat through your already overstimulated body.

“don’t get any ideas,” he growled, his attention snapping back to you, his grip tightening on your hips. “you’re not done until i say you are.”

“god,” fem gojo moaned softly, her hands sliding down her cunt as she watched you both. “if this is how you treat her in front of me, i can’t imagine what you’re like when you’ve got her all to yourself.”

her words only seemed to spur him on, his lips crashing into yours again, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away just enough to whisper against your mouth.

“don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “we’ll make sure she knows exactly what it feels like to belong to both of us.”

the promise in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and the look in fem gojo’s eyes made it clear she had no intention of being a passive observer for long.

clothes hit the floor — or in your case, were outright shredded by your boyfriend’s impatient hands. the sound of ripping fabric and your startled gasp barely registered over the muffled curses coming from fem gojo, who was too distracted fumbling with her own shirt, her needy arousal making her hands clumsy.

“damn it,” she muttered under her breath, finally managing to toss her shirt aside. “you’d think i’d be good at undressing myself by now.”

“could’ve fooled me,” male gojo quipped with a sharp grin, not even glancing her way as he manhandled you into position. “i could’ve stripped you in two seconds flat.”

“yeah, yeah,” she shot back, rolling her eyes as her shorts hit the floor. “maybe i wanted to take my time.”

he didn’t reply. instead, his hands clamped down on your waist, and before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself being flung off his lap. you landed on your stomach, a surprised cry escaping your lips as your face ended up inches away from fem gojo’s already glistening cunt.

the sweet, heady scent of her arousal flooded your senses, making your head spin.

“oh?” she cooed, leaning back on her elbows and spreading her legs a little wider, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “is this your way of apologizing? putting her in prime position f'me?”

“shut up,” male gojo snapped, his voice sharp as his hands gripped your hips again, pulling them up so your ass was in the air. “she’s here to learn who she belongs to.”

“sure,” fem gojo said, clearly unconvinced as her fingers trailed teasingly along the inside of her thighs. “and if she just so happens to learn how to make me feel good in the process, well, that’s just a bonus, hm?”

you whimpered, your mind spinning as you tried to ground yourself, but the sharp snap of your boyfriend’s hips against you derailed every coherent thought.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” he hissed, his pace unrelenting as he pounded into you from behind. “ya so quiet now. where’s all that pretty whinin' you were doing earlier?”

“h-her mouth’s busy,” fem gojo chimed in with a laugh, her hand sliding into your hair to guide your face closer to her. “or at least, it should be. come on, ma. show me what ya got.”

you hesitated, your face burning with a mix of humiliation and arousal, but a sharp smack! on your ass from male gojo left you gasping.

“don’t keep her waiting,” he growled, jealousy dripping from every word as his nails dug into your skin. “you were so eager to let her touch you before. let’s see how you like being used.”

“god,” fem gojo moaned softly as your tongue tentatively flicked over her slick folds, the taste of her flooding your senses. “she’s so good, isn’t she?”

he scoffed, his thrusts growing harsher, each one making your body jolt forward against her. “she’s good because i made her that way,” he bit out, his voice low and possessive. “don’t forget who she comes back to every night.”

“we’ll see about that,” she teased, her fingers tightening in your hair as her hips rolled against your mouth. “if she keeps this up, she might be spending a few more nights with me instead.”

“over my dead body,” he snarled, his hand reaching around to toy with your clit, the rough circles of his fingers sending shockwaves through your body.

you whimpered against her, the vibrations drawing a shuddering gasp from her lips.

“oh, fuck,” she moaned, her head tilting back as her free hand slid up to tweak her nipple. “you’re gonna make me cum, babe. keep goin' —don’t stop.”

male gojo’s hand tightened on your hip, his rhythm faltering slightly as he let out a low, guttural growl.

“she’s not coming for you,” he spat, leaning down until his chest was flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s coming because of me.”

“whatever you need to tell yourself,” fem gojo panted, her voice laced with amusement and ecstasy as her hips bucked against your face. “but we both know who she’s really falling apart for right now.”

your thoughts were spiraling. absolutely spiraling.

how the hell were you supposed to explain this?

my boyfriend’s giving me the most insane backshots of my life while i’m eating out the female version of him.

except… she wasn’t just “him” anymore. she was her, right? so does that make her your girlfriend? was it cheating? was it some weird alternate-universe poly thing?

“ugh, no time to think,” you muttered under your breath, your words muffled as you dragged your tongue along fem gojo’s slit.

“what’s that, sweetheart?” fem gojo purred, her hand tightening in your hair as her thighs quivered under your grip. “don’t stop on my account. you’re doing so good.”

“oh, don’t stroke her ego,” male gojo snapped, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that had your entire body jolting forward, your face pressing impossibly closer to fem gojo’s dripping cunt. “she’s not that good yet.”

“jealous much?” fem gojo teased, her voice lilting and smug as she rolled her hips against your mouth. “she’s got me riiight on the edge, babe. maybe you should let her focus instead of barking orders like you’re the only one who matters here.”

“focus?” he sneered, leaning down until his chest was pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s too busy falling apart to focus. look at her — her hands are shaking.”

you whimpered at his words, your hands trembling as you tried your best to keep fem gojo’s thighs spread wide.

“awwww, baby,” she cooed, her fingers stroking your hair gently, a stark contrast to the vulgar praise spilling from her lips. “don’t listen to him. you’re doing amazing. so eager, so pliant — just like i knew you’d be.”

“pliant, huh?” male gojo growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “is that what you think this is? you think she’s here for you?”

“she’s here for both of us,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk widening as she tugged your hair, forcing you to look up at her. “right, babe? tell him how much you like making me feel good.”

you tried to answer, but the words were swallowed up by a moan as male gojo’s hand snaked around to rub tight, merciless circles against your clit.

“she doesn’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low and dark, laced with jealousy. “her body’s doing allll the talkin'. look at the mess she’s making.”

“maybe that’s because you’re being so rough,” fem gojo said, rolling her eyes even as her thighs trembled against your face.

“or maybe —” her voice dropped, dripping with faux sweetness as her smirk turned wicked, “ — it’s 'cause she likes me better.”

that set him off.

with a low, guttural growl, he pulled you back sharply, forcing you to arch against him as he slammed into you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“say it,” he demanded, his voice rough as his fingers dug into your hips. “tell her who you belong to.”

“oh, don’t make her choose,” fem gojo said, her tone mockingly sweet. “she’s doin' so well for both of us. aren’t cha, babe?”

you whimpered, your mind too clouded with pleasure to form a coherent response, and she laughed, low and sultry, her fingers sliding along your jaw to tilt your slick-covered face up.

“poor thing,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “don’t worry. you don’t have to pick. we’ll just take turns.”

male gojo’s hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to meet his blazing gaze.

“no,” he growled, his jealousy boiling over as his hips snapped against yours. “she’s mine.”

“ours,” fem gojo corrected, her voice smug as she ran her tongue along your flushed cheek, laughing when he snarled in response.

“dream on,” he spat, his possessiveness evident in every word, every movement, every sharp thrust.

and you? you were somewhere in the middle of it all, lost in the overwhelming heat of them, the push and pull of their jealousy, their praise, their relentless need to claim you.

⋆˙⟡ —

the room at two in the morning was a symphony of chaos and filth, the soundtrack of your life choices. gojo’s low muttering against his breath, some mix of cocky praise and jealous snarling, occasionally punctuated with a sharp smack! to your ass. your muffled whimpers and gasps as your face stayed buried between fem gojo’s legs, and her breathy, high-pitched praises as she tugged on your hair like she owned you.

“thaaat’s it, babe,” fem gojo cooed, her fingers tightening in your hair. “s'good f'me, aren’t cha? suuccch a good girl.”

wait, hold on. fem gojo pulling your hair? wasn’t that supposed to be a boyfriend gojo thing?

before your brain could unravel that disturbing yet arousing conundrum, she yanked hard, pulling your face impossibly closer. your nose pressed rudely against her clit, and the sudden pressure had her legs trembling around your head.

“oh — fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpered, her usually smug voice cracking as her hips bucked involuntarily.

and then it happened.

you barely had time to process her thighs clamping down around your ears, muffling everything but the obscene sounds of her unraveling. warm liquid gushed against your lips, your chin, even dribbling down your neck, as fem gojo outright squirted.

“oh my god,” you thought, frozen in shock even as your boyfriend’s hips snapped sharply into yours again, jarring you forward for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

“holy shit,” male gojo muttered, his voice equal parts awe and irritation as he caught sight of his counterpart’s unrestrained climax. “you fuckin' squirted? that’s my thing!”

fem gojo, still coming down from her high, let out a breathless laugh, her legs falling limp as she sprawled back on the bed.

“looks like your girl’s a fast learner,” she teased, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

“learner, my ass,” he shot back, a sharp thrust making you moan against fem gojo’s overstimulated folds. “i trained her to be this good.”

“uh-huh,” fem gojo drawled lazily, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. “then why’d she just make me squirt first? sounds like she’s got a natural talent you couldn’t teach.”

“shut up,” he growled, his pace picking up as he slammed into you harder, clearly trying to reassert dominance.

you, meanwhile, were somewhere between mortification and pride.

first time eating someone out, and they squirted. that was definitely going on the mental highlight reel of your life — even if it was your boyfriend’s female counterpart.

you figured you might as well keep going with fem gojo. after all, your boyfriend had the stamina of a goddamn bull and a petty streak longer than your to-do list. no way he was letting you off easy after everything tonight.

lucky you, though — he’d also trained you well enough to cum at the same time as him. how lovely.

…ignoring the fact that your current position was utterly humiliating. your back arched up so prettily, your face now smooshed between fem gojo’s outrageously, illegally hot rack.

“suck,” she demanded, her voice dripping with the same playful authority you usually heard from your boyfriend, but with a distinctly feminine lilt that had you shivering.

“oh, don’t act like you’re in charge,” gojo snapped from behind you, his thrusts growing sharper as if to punctuate his annoyance. “you’re just here for the ride.”

“and you’re here throwing a tantrum,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk evident in her tone as her hands pressed you deeper into her chest. “you’re the one that left her unsupervised.”

you barely registered their bickering. your head was swimming, lost in the overwhelming heat of fem gojo’s body and the relentless rhythm of your boyfriend behind you. your tongue flicked over her hardened nipple, drawing a satisfied gasp from her lips as she arched into you.

“good giirrl,” fem gojo purred, her fingers threading through your hair again, keeping your face buried against her. “you’re learning so fast.”

“don’t praise her for that!” gojo barked, his voice tinged with frustration even as he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. “she’s mine, not yours, so quit actin' like ya got a claim on her!”

“if she’s yours, then why’s she so eager to listen to me?” fem gojo teased, her breath hitching as your tongue swirled around her sensitive nipple.

“you wanna see who she listens to?” he growled, leaning over you as his hand snaked around your waist, his fingers circling your clit in quick, punishing strokes.

that did it. the tension coiling low in your stomach snapped, and you came with a muffled cry against fem gojo’s chest, your whole body trembling as pleasure washed over you.

at the same time, gojo’s hips stuttered against yours, his grip tightening as he groaned through gritted teeth, spilling into you with one last deep thrust.

the room fell silent except for your ragged breathing and fem gojo’s low chuckle as she trailed her fingers through your hair.

“aww,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “looks like we both won, huh?”

“we?” gojo barked, glaring at her over your back. “you’re lucky i didn’t kick your ass out of this bed halfway through.”

“lucky?” she repeated, her smirk widening as she leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “please, babe. i’ve got her attention. you’re just here to keep things interesting.”

gojo had had enough. sure, he’d made you see stars, made you fall apart on his dick like he always did. and yeah, he’d just had his own finish, but that didn’t matter.

he was greedy. always greedy.

his icy blue eyes darted to fem gojo, still lounging smugly with that shit-eating grin plastered across her pretty face. oh, he hated seeing his own smugness reflected like that.

“alright,” he huffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair before cracking his neck. “you wanna play games? fine. hold her for me.”

“oh?” fem gojo purred, clearly intrigued, though she raised an eyebrow. “what’s this now?”

“don’t ask questions, just do it,” he snapped, his tone sharp but impatient.

to your surprise — and maybe horror — fem gojo complied, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you back against her chest, locking you in place.

“good,” gojo muttered, his gaze dropping to your already trembling body. his lips quirked into a devilish smirk as he cracked his knuckles.

“now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice saccharine and low as he leaned down to meet your wide-eyed gaze, “you’re gonna give me six more. f'good luck. for my six eyes. makes sense, right?”

“s-six?” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you squirmed in fem gojo’s hold.

“don’t pass out before number three, okay?” fem gojo chimed in, her breath tickling your ear as she pressed a playful kiss to your temple.

“oh, she won’t,” gojo assured her, his tone all cocky confidence as his fingers found your oversensitive clit, circling it slowly, almost mockingly. “i’ve trained her too well for that.”

“you’re insane,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his movements picked up, sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body.

“and you love it,” he shot back, grinning as your hips bucked involuntarily.

“she’s already shakin',” fem gojo mused, her hands holding you firmly in place as you writhed in her grip. “think she can even make it to six?”

“she’ll make it,” gojo said confidently, his fingers dipping lower to press inside you.

you let out a strangled moan, your body arching against fem gojo as she held you tighter.

“one down,” gojo teased as you convulsed around his fingers, your first orgasm ripping through you with humiliating ease.

“just five more, baby,” fem gojo cooed, brushing her lips against your ear. “think ya cunt can handle it?”

you didn’t have the breath to answer, already lost in the haze of pleasure and anticipation as gojo smirked down at you.

“don’t worry,” he murmured, sliding his fingers out only to replace them with his cock, the stretch sending your mind reeling.

“we’ve got allll night.”

⋆˙⟡ —

the first rays of the sun filtered into your room, casting soft golden streaks across the absolute battlefield that was your bed. clothes were long forgotten, scattered along with the remnants of your once-organized collection of sex toys — all strewn haphazardly on the mattress and floor, evidence of what you’d been subjected to.

but you couldn’t exactly reflect on the mess, not when your mind was lost in the fog of overstimulation.

your body dangled limply in fem gojo’s strong, steady arms, her breath warm against your ear as she held you upright. your head lolled back against her shoulder, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your boyfriend once again set a punishing rhythm with his hips.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice rough from hours of exertion but no less smug. “what number are we on now?”

you tried to answer, you really did, but all that came out was a broken, incoherent moan, your voice cracking as your legs trembled helplessly.

“what was that?” fem gojo teased, her laughter soft and melodic as she adjusted her grip on you, her fingers brushing over your slick, sweat-dampened skin. “i think she lost count. did we hit six or are we on nine?”

“definitely nine,” gojo declared, grinning as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “but she can’t keep up. guess i’ll just have to count for her.”

you whined, barely able to lift your arms, let alone argue.

“poor thing,” fem gojo cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as her lips trailed along your neck. “bet her brain’s all mush now. aren’t ya, pretty?”

you whimpered in response, your body shuddering as another wave of pleasure surged through you, leaving you gasping and clutching at fem gojo’s arms for support.

“look at that,” your boyfriend said with a chuckle, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you closer. “she’s still got some fight in her.”

“for now,” fem gojo quipped, smirking as she nuzzled into your hair.

“but i think we’ve got her for a few more rounds before she taps out.”

“good,” gojo muttered, his pace quickening as his grin widened. “’m not done yet.”

⋆˙⟡ —

you should’ve known better. should’ve known better than to assume fem gojo would let up.

sure, she’d been lounging lazily for a while, playing her role as the smug spectator while her male counterpart relentlessly worked you over. but the thing about gojo — male or female — was that patience wasn’t exactly their virtue.

“y’know,” fem gojo began, her tone as sweet as honey but laced with mischief as she propped her chin on your shoulder, her lips brushing against your ear. “i think we should switch things up for the finale.”

“finale?” you rasped, your voice hoarse and barely audible, every muscle in your body trembling from the sheer exertion.

“yeeaah, finale,” fem gojo purred, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thighs as she glanced up at her male counterpart, who raised a curious brow. “we’ve been so focused on her. don’t you think it’s time she gives you some love, hmm?”

gojo smirked, catching on immediately. “oh? you’re suggesting somethin'?”

“just an idea,” she said with a shrug, though her grin was positively wicked. “how about she thanks you properly? y’know, with her mouth.”

your head snapped up weakly, eyes wide. “wait —”

“shhhh, sweetheart,” fem gojo cooed, pressing a finger to your lips. “’s only fair, don’t cha think? he’s worked so hard.”

“exactly,” gojo chimed in, already moving to position himself over you, his knees framing your chest as he settled on the bed. “you should thank me.”

before you could protest — or muster the energy to protest — you felt fem gojo’s hands on your thighs, spreading them apart with ease.

“and while you’re doing that,” she murmured, her breath warm against your inner thighs as she lowered herself between them, “i’ll take care of this pretty little cunt. sound good?”

you didn’t even have the chance to respond before her tongue was on you, dragging a loong, languid stripe up your soaked folds that made your back arch off the bed.

“shit,” you gasped, your hands clutching at the pillows beneath your head as your boyfriend smirked down at you.

“open up, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he cupped your jaw, guiding you to take him into your mouth.

you whimpered, your lips parting obediently as he slid inside, the weight of him on your tongue making your eyes flutter shut.

“thaaat’s it,” he praised, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate motions. “such a good girl f'me.”

beneath him, fem gojo was working you over with the precision of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. her tongue flicked against your clit, her lips wrapping around it to suck softly before diving back down, licking and lapping at you like a woman starved.

“god, you taste so good,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your folds as she gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place. “i could do this all day.”

your muffled moans vibrated around your boyfriend’s cock, making him groan as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

“fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back as his movements quickened. “you’re gonna make me lose it, baby.”

the combination of sensations — the weight of your boyfriend in your mouth, the relentless pace of fem gojo’s tongue — was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once again.

“don’t pass out on us now,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with amusement as she felt you clench around nothing, your body trembling violently. “you’ve got one more in you, don’tcha, sweetheart?”

you weren’t sure how you’d survive this, but as your boyfriend’s groans grew louder and fem gojo’s ministrations became even more fervent, you realized there was no escaping it.

you were completely at their mercy, and god, you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

the room was chaos, pure and utter chaos. the obscene mix of sounds — gojo’s low groans, your muffled gags, and fem gojo’s pleased hums — was almost too much for your fried brain to process.

you thought you were doing pretty well, honestly. your boyfriend’s usual sarcasm and taunting remarks had been steadily replaced by breathy curses and groans of approval.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, his hand in your hair guiding you at a steady pace. “you’re so damn good at this — shit, look at you, taking me so well —”

you felt a flicker of pride at that, the kind that came with knowing you were completely wrecking him. but fem gojo? oh, she had other plans.

“aww, don’t forget 'bout me,” she chimed, her voice dripping with amusement as she leaned down, her breath warm against your oversensitive core. “can’t have you hogging all the fun, can we?”

before you could even process her words, her hand came down, a sharp slap! landing square on your clit.

the jolt of pleasure-pain tore a strangled sound from your throat — a sound that unfortunately turned into a gag as your body jerked in surprise, taking your boyfriend deeper than you ever had before.

“holy shit,” gojo choked out, his hips snapping forward instinctively as your throat spasmed around him. “fuck fuck fuck — wait! —”

too late. the sudden sensation was too much for him to handle, and with a low, guttural groan, he came, hot and thick down your throat.

“good — hah — girl,” he panted, his grip on your hair tightening as he rode out his high, his chest heaving. “goddamn — you’re perfect.”

but you barely had time to process his words before your body betrayed you again. fem gojo had taken full advantage of your momentary distraction, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you right to the edge — and then push you right over it.

“there it is,” she cooed as your thighs tensed around her head, her tongue still lapping at you eagerly. “god, you’re so pretty when you lose it.”

and lose it, you did. with a loud cry muffled by the aftermath of your boyfriend’s climax, you came, harder than you ever had before. the intense wave of pleasure ripped through you, your slick gushing out in a way that left both you and fem gojo absolutely stunned.

“well, well,” fem gojo murmured, pulling back just enough to wipe her soaked face with the back of her hand, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. “looks like we’re even now, huh?”

gojo’s dazed expression quickly turned smug as he caught his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair. “a squirt for a squirt?” he quipped, his grin sharp as he looked between the two of you. “not bad, sweetheart. i’m almost impressed.”

you groaned, your face burning as you buried it in the nearest pillow, both mortified and completely spent.

“aw, don’t get shy now,” fem gojo teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh. “you did so well. maybe next time, i’ll let you return the favor properly.”

“next time?” you croaked, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“of course,” she said with a wink, already sitting up and stretching like she hadn’t just been part of the most insane night of your life. “you don’t think this is a one-time thing, do you?”

gojo groaned, flopping onto the bed beside you with a lazy grin. “oh, definitely not,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair. “you’re stuck with both of us now, babe.”

and judging by the way they both looked at you — smug, teasing, and entirely too pleased with themselves — you knew you were in for a long ride.

you were done.

like, stick-a-fork-in-you done.

lying there in a dazed mess of tangled sheets and sore limbs, your legs were trembling so hard you swore you could start a minor earthquake. you didn’t even have the strength to bat an eye as male gojo leaned over you, brushing away the strands of hair plastered to your forehead with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness.

“baby, you good?” he asked, a rare note of genuine concern lacing his voice.

“does she look good to you?” fem gojo cut in, lounging nearby with a towel draped over her shoulder. she reached for your pussy tentatively, only for you to weakly swat her hand away.

“don’t you dare.” your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it still made her chuckle.

“relax, i’m just kidding!… mostly,” she added with a wink, settling back as male gojo shot her a glare.

“she’s off-limits right now,” he said firmly, tossing a bottle of water onto the bed. “here, drink. if she passes out, it’s your fault.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes but still accepting the water with shaky hands. “like it’s just her fault,” you mumbled, earning a sheepish grin from him.

“you’re right, babe,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “but, c’mon. twelve orgasms? i mean, that’s a record, right? a feat of human engineering, honestly.”

fem gojo scoffed, sitting up to stretch. “please, if i wasn’t here, she wouldn’t have made it past six. you’re welcome, by the way.”

“you’re welcome for the stamina training i gave her,” he shot back, sticking out his tongue.

“both of you, shut up,” you groaned, dragging the towel over your face. “my entire body feels like jelly, and if one of you so much as breathes near me, i’m out the window.”

“she’s spicy when she’s exhausted,” fem gojo murmured with a smirk, tossing her head back dramatically. “fine, fine. i’ll behave.”

for now.

male gojo wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you against his chest as fem gojo slid in on your other side. “we’ll take care of you,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“mmm,” was all you could muster, melting into his warmth despite yourself.

“you’re amazing, y’know that?” fem gojo whispered, brushing a hand over your hair. “an absolute goddess. we’re lucky to have you.”

you snorted weakly. “oh, now you’re sweet.”

“only ‘cause you look like you’ve been through a war,” she teased.

male gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice softening. “but seriously, babe. if we went too far —”

“you think?” you interrupted, cracking open one eye to glare at him.

“okay, fair. but we’ll make it up to you. promise.”

fem gojo hummed in agreement, already grabbing a nearby lotion bottle. “massages, snacks, cuddles. whatever you need.”

and for once, they actually seemed serious. no teasing, no ulterior motives — just two ridiculously hot versions of your boyfriend determined to take care of you.

maybe having both of them wasn’t so bad… as long as you kept fem gojo’s hands away from certain places.

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loafteaw · 8 days ago

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best friend!ino is such a desperate loser for you, and he’s hardly ashamed of it. always at your beck and call and ready to serve—need a wedding date? he’s buying a suit. need a night off? he’ll finish up any paperwork you’ve got to do. need to destress after a long day? use him like a sex toy until you’re satisfied.

you thought he was joking when he first offered. but you were pent up and he was looking you straight in the eyes and asking—no, begging—to be used by you. takuma, you realised very quickly, will do anything to please you.

and he loves knowing he’s making you feel good. with you laid out on clean sheets, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs as he makes out with your pussy like he’s in love with it, which he is. moans as he eats you out, watching you through his lashes for any sign that you’re enjoying the way his tongue feels lapping at your clit.

he’s messy, strings of spit connecting him to you as he pulls back to tell you just how perfect you are. so he can watch his fingers plunge into you, curl upwards and bring you to orgasm. he never makes you wait, never makes you beg—he’d rather die than deny you anything.

and if you let him fuck you, feel you from the inside out, he’s just as eager to please. lets you ride him, control the pace and timing and keep him in check because he gets overexcited and too rough and fast sometimes. he can’t help it, though, you make him restless.

how good you feel wrapped around his aching cock, tip red and sore and desperate to fill you up with him cum. he has to do anything to keep himself from cumming—anything to hold out long enough for you to use him to his full potential. god he wants to be good for you, he’ll bite his lip and do math in his head and think about anything but the way you sink down on him and move your hips in painfully slow rolling waves of melting lust and—

he doesn’t realise you want him to come undone until he’s emptying his balls inside of you with teary eyes and choked apologies. your smile, though, tells him that you’ve been given exactly what you want. because when you kiss his forehead and push him back down into the mattress, takuma is met with another roll of your hips and the dawning realisation that you’re going to overstimulate his poor cock until you’re bored of the way he fills you so fucking deep it hurts.

he can take it, though. even if he can’t—he will. anything to make you feel good.

for my tumblr crush @creamflix

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loafteaw · 9 days ago

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pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

𝝑𝑒 𝐒��𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

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loafteaw · 9 days ago

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holy

sukuna slipping his hand between your legs in the middle of an important dinner because what good is his ability to form a mouth on his hand if not to make you cum over and over by just cupping his hand over your pussy? hm?

#sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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loafteaw · 14 days ago

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IM EARLY OMGOMGOMGOMF HEHEHEHE

I LOVE BAD BITCHES THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ PROBLEM! ၄၃ satosugu x female reader

18+ content, minors or blank blogs don't interact. unestablished relationship, roommate arrangement. bisexual! satosugu, top! suguru + switch! satoru. threesome. humiliation, degradation, dirty talk. m. masturbation. exhibitionism, slight voyeurism. fingering. orgasm control + denial. finger sucking. sloppy makeouts + three at once. oral (f. recieving) + squirting, clit/pussy slapping. riding. double penetration. face sitting. overstimulation. prostate stimulation. accidental love confession during the heat of it all. weirdly happy ending? - rl's established

thank you so much for 1OOO followers you lil freaks divas. this took so much time to write lol, i hope you all see the vision. this work was inspired by this smut audio by augustinthewinter. the link takes you to a re-upload on spotify [for easier listening], and sadly not the audio posted by the original creator. do your part and please support him and his work here <3

— masterlist here ☆

you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine if you just ignore the tension radiating from your bed behind you.

you’re adjusting your eyeliner in the mirror, a faint smile on your lips, trying to focus on the excitement of the night ahead.

still, the weight of suguru’s silent gaze feels like a steel rod pressing against your back.

every now and then, you catch his reflection in the mirror, arms folded, brow furrowed slightly, watching your every move without saying a word.

and then, of course, satoru comes crashing in, slinging the door open like he owns the place. he practically throws himself onto the bed next to suguru, his excitement bursting out like it usually does.

“hey, hey, what if the three of us got wasted and binged some trashy netflix show? i’m thinking love is blind — oh, wait, you’re —” he blinks, taking in your outfit.

his voice trails off, and his expression turns from bright to bewildered as he glances from you to suguru, then back again.

“wait, where are you going dressed like that?”

you sigh, knowing there’s no way you’re escaping this.

“i… have a date,” you admit, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit. you catch suguru’s eyes in the mirror, and he raises an eyebrow, his arms still crossed, jaw set tight.

“oh?” suguru’s voice is cool, almost too calm, but there’s an edge underneath that doesn’t escape you.

“does he know you live with two men?”

you swallow, fiddling with your hair as you avoid his eyes. “well… no, i mean, it just never came up.”

satoru lets out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, giving you a once-over that’s half-impressed, half-amused.

“so you’re planning to let him find out on his own when he walks in here and sees us? that’s bold.”

you roll your eyes, though you feel your cheeks heat up under their combined scrutiny. “it’s not like that! it’s just… i don’t know. i didn’t think it mattered.”

“doesn’t matter, huh?” suguru’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he stands up, slowly, crossing the room until he’s standing just behind you. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, his reflection towering over you in the mirror.

“so, what’s he like?” he asks, voice dripping with an intensity that makes your heart race a little faster.

you open your mouth to respond, but satoru’s laugh cuts you off. “yeah, yeah, tell us! tall, dark, and handsome, or short, plain, and boring?”

you bite back a grin, feeling the tension lighten just slightly with satoru’s teasing. “he’s nice. a gentleman, really. you’d probably like him,” you say, attempting a casual tone, though you can feel suguru’s stare growing sharper.

“a gentleman?” suguru scoffs, his lips curling into a smirk. “think he’d still be one if he knew you had two roommates watching out for you?”

“maybe he’d be intimidated,” satoru chimes in, grinning. he gets up from the bed, crossing the room to stand by suguru. “i mean, c’mon. anyone would feel the pressure, having to impress not just their date but her two very intimidating roommates.”

“intimidating?” you laugh, glancing between them. “i doubt anyone would find either of you intimidating.”

“oh, so that’s how it is,” suguru murmurs, stepping even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

“you think we’re harmless?”

your heart thuds, pulse quickening as he leans in. “you know i didn’t say that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

suguru’s close enough now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours, and there’s an undeniable thrill that makes your head spin just a bit.

“do you really think he can keep up with you?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face in the mirror. “think he’s enough?”

you don’t answer, mostly because you’re not sure how to.

suguru’s words linger in your mind, twisting in ways that make you hesitate, and you feel satoru’s gaze on you too, a spark of something mischievous and knowing in his expression.

“you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let us meet him,” satoru suggests, his voice a lazy drawl that only adds to the heat building in the room. “just to make sure he’s, y'know, worth your time.”

you bite your lip, glancing between the two of them in the mirror, feeling the weight of both their gazes, the way their words seem to dig deeper than they should.

“why do i feel like the two of you would scare him off?”

“maybe because we would,” suguru murmurs, his voice like a dark promise. “if he’s not up to standard.”

satoru grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“or maybe we just want to keep you to ourselves.”

your heart skips a beat, and you’re sure your face must be burning.

“you two are unbelievable,” you manage, trying to laugh it off, though the sound comes out more breathless than you’d like.

you feel your stomach drop the second you realize satoru's got your phone. he'd snatched it up casually, thumb already working its way across the screen, entering your password like he's done it a million times. he lets out a strangled sort of noise as he stares down at the screen, his wide blue eyes taking in whatever he's found with an expression of pure shock.

"uh, what exactly have you been watching here?" satoru barely suppresses a snicker as he holds up the phone for suguru to see.

"‘getting used by my two roommates 'til i can’t walk?’ really?" he reads the title, drawing out every word in that slow, teasing tone he loves to use. "didn’t know you were into…this."

suguru’s dark eyes flash as he looks from the screen to you. he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature mix of irritation and amusement. "that's why you’ve been ignoring us, huh? too busy fantasizing to even tell us you had a date tonight?”

“it’s not —" you start, but suguru's hand is already at your waist, pulling you into his lap, effortlessly pinning you against him. your back’s pressed against his chest, and he’s got you facing the mirror, the smirk in his eyes only growing sharper as he settles you firmly on top of him.

“stay still," suguru murmurs, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver up your spine. "i wanna see you finish your makeup. maybe you’ll explain what’s going on here while you do."

satoru, still grinning, swipes further through your history, leaning closer with a loud, exaggerated gasp. "ohoho, what’s this? ‘my roommates won’t let me leave until i’ve begged them’? suguru, she’s got a whole list of ‘em!”

“tell me, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice drips with mock sweetness, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “are you disappointed it’s only a video?”

you try to fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks, attempting to focus on your eyeliner, but his hand at your hip keeps your body flush against him, heat radiating off him in waves. “you know i didn’t… it’s just a video, okay?”

“just a video, huh?” suguru’s thumb strokes your waist, and you catch his intense gaze in the mirror, dark and heavy-lidded, roaming over every flustered inch of your face. “don’t act so innocent.”

satoru snickers, flipping through more tabs on your phone. “so, when were you planning on telling this poor date of yours that you’ve got two guys in the apartment with you? two very protective guys, at that?”

“satoru —”

“nah, ’s cute.” satoru gives a little shrug, glancing at suguru with a grin. “she thinks she can just go on some little date and come home without us findin' out what she's been doin'.”

suguru’s grip tightens, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed in the mirror as he presses his lips close to your ear, voice low and dangerously smooth. “you like being watched that badly, huh? well, i’ll make sure you don’t even get a chance to squirm.”

you’re struggling to focus, trying to keep your hand steady as you bring the eyeliner back to your lash line, but it’s almost impossible with suguru’s iron grip keeping you firmly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you might escape at any second. his breath skims against the back of your neck, and he chuckles softly each time your hand trembles, knowing full well what he's doing to you.

meanwhile, satoru’s barely holding it together on the edge of the bed, and he’s not even trying to hide it. he’s got one hand slowly working his dick over his pants, the other still gripping your phone as he reads off your search history, letting out a low, exaggerated groan between words.

“let’s see… ‘getting absolutely used by my two roommates’…” satoru moans out the title, every word slipping from his lips laced with a mix of teasing and raw need.

his eyes flicker over to you, heavy-lidded, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. “y'know, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”

you shift in suguru's lap instinctively, your body craving some kind of friction, some release for the ache pooling between your legs. but his hold only tightens, hands splaying over your thighs to keep you completely still.

“what do you think you’re doing?” suguru’s voice is low, dangerous, his gaze dark as he watches you through the mirror. “i told you to keep still. or do you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”

the demand in his tone leaves no room for defiance, but your pulse quickens, the heat radiating from his chest pressing into your back as he keeps you locked against him. you bite down on your lip, doing everything you can to keep yourself composed, but your voice comes out in a breathy whisper. "s-suguru… please, i just —"

“‘please,’ huh? sounds like you’re already begging,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of your neck, sending a jolt of anticipation straight to your cunt. his fingers trail lightly over your hips, teasing, but keeping you pinned firmly in place.

“but begging isn’t going to get you what you want tonight.”

satoru lets out a soft laugh, the sound melting into a quiet groan as he slips his hand into his pants, finally giving himself the relief he’s been aching for. “oh, don’t worry, i think she’s getting everything she wanted, alright,” he says between breaths, his eyes flickering between you and suguru with that playful glint that drives you wild.

he jerks himself slowly, deliberately, his breath catching as he reads off another title from your history, voice turning breathy as his hand works himself harder.

“this one’s good… ‘roommate makes me sit still while i drip for him.’ god, you’ve got a real filthy mind, don’t cha?”

your cheeks burn as you try to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection, hands shaking as you lift the mascara wand, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. but your efforts are futile, every word they throw at you stoking the heat building in your cunt, making it harder and harder to focus.

“don’t worry, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice is a rough whisper, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches your gaze in the mirror. “we’re just giving you what you’ve been craving all along.”

satoru’s moans fill the room, breath hitching each time his hand slides down his dick, the rhythm picking up as his eyes darken with lust. he’s not even hiding his arousal anymore, not holding back, his gaze burning as he watches the two of you in the mirror.

“c’mon, 'guru, stop teasin' her. hike up that damn dress, let’s see what she’s hiding under there.”

suguru’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, the glint in them both dangerous and amused. he moves slowly, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, making your skin tingle as he exposes more of you. he lets out a quiet hum of approval as he tugs your dress up to your waist, leaving you sitting there, fully exposed, save for the thin fabric of your panties.

“these are cute,” suguru murmurs, voice low and teasing as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to the floor. he lets his hand trail back up, grazing the inside of your thigh, making you tremble with anticipation. “don’t even think about moving, sweetheart. if you mess up your makeup, ’m stopping.”

you swallow hard, nodding, feeling your pulse throb as his fingers dip lower, brushing against your already-sensitive clit. the touch is feather-light, almost too soft, and it leaves you aching for more.

satoru groans from the bed, his hand moving faster as he watches you, his reflection in the mirror every bit as unrestrained as his tone. “that’s it, sugu'. make her beg. let her feel what she’s been fantasizing about this whole time.”

you force yourself to focus on your blush, lifting the brush to your cheeks, trying to keep your hand steady even as suguru’s fingers start moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the pleasure sparks through you, making it nearly impossible to concentrate, and you can feel your cheeks burning, your breathing quickening with every movement of his hand.

“s-sugu… please… don’t stop,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation as you fight to keep your grip on the brush. “please… i’ll do anything.”

he chuckles, low and taunting, leaning closer to your ear, his fingers pressing down just a little harder. “then keep your hands steady, doll. if you want me to keep goin', you better not mess this up.”

but it’s useless; between suguru’s teasing touch and satoru’s moans filling the room, your hands are already trembling, and the brush slips, leaving a streak of blush too high on your cheek, too heavy, ruining the carefully crafted look you’d been working on.

suguru notices instantly, his eyes narrowing, a mocking smirk on his lips as he catches your mistake in the mirror.

“well, look at that. can’t even follow simple instructions, can you?” he tsks, pulling his fingers away, leaving you aching, desperate, empty.

“n-no, sugu, please —” you stammer, voice raw with need, looking at him through the mirror, eyes pleading. “please, i’ll fix it, i swear. just don’t stop, please… i need it, i need you —”

satoru laughs, still stroking himself, his voice thick with pleasure as he watches you beg. “she’s real desperate for it, 'ruru. look at her, practically falling apart from just a little teasing.”

suguru’s gaze is unyielding, his smirk growing as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “then maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep still,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "maybe i should let you sit here and watch instead. see what happens when you don’t listen.”

your heart pounds, every nerve in your body on fire, and you’re barely even thinking when you grab his wrist, pulling his hand back to where you need him most.

“please, suguru,” you beg, voice thick with desperation. “i’ll do anything… i’ll fix it, just… please touch me. don’t leave me like this.”

satoru’s groans are growing louder, filling the room with the heat of his breathy, drawn-out moans as he watches the scene unfolding in the mirror.

“yeah, sugu',” he mutters, hand working faster over his dick, his eyes trained on your reflection. “spread those pretty folds f'me. lemme see her fall apart.”

without a moment’s hesitation, suguru’s fingers grip your thighs, spreading your legs wider, baring you completely in front of the mirror, his hand moving down to part your slick folds with calculated ease. you gasp, your cheeks burning as you take in the sight — your own reflection, flushed and needy, legs open, your slick glistening in the low light. suguru’s eyes flick to the mirror, catching your gaze, smirking as he takes in the mess you’re making on his lap.

“look at that,” suguru murmurs, voice low and edged with satisfaction. his fingers slip between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been dripping down onto him, his smirk only deepening as he holds his slick-coated fingers up in the mirror, showing you just how worked up you are. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. did you really expect me to stay calm with you squirming like this?”

“s-sugu…” you whimper, feeling yourself clench as his fingers dance between your folds, teasing but not quite giving you what you’re aching for. every brush of his skin against yours sends another wave of heat through you, and your head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted in silent desperation.

“such a messy girl,” he continues, pressing a single finger into you, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch as he slides in. “this what you wanted? to end up spread open, on display for us?”

you can barely form words, your mind hazy with need, hips instinctively rolling against his hand despite his warning to stay still. “yes… yes, please…”

satoru’s moans grow louder as he watches you, the slick sound of his hand stroking himself filling the room. “fuck, look at her, suguru,” he pants, voice thick with arousal. “all pretty 'n desperate, just like she’s been dreaming about.” his eyes fall shut, his hand moving faster as he chases his high, the sight of you enough to send him over the edge. his hips jerk forward as he cums, his body trembling, a low, satisfied groan escaping his lips as he rides out his release.

suguru only smirks, his gaze never leaving your reflection, watching your every reaction with a dark, predatory satisfaction. “see that?” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum.

“even satoru couldn’t keep himself together, and here you are, makin' a mess all over my lap.” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes. “tell me, sweetheart, did you really think i wouldn’t get turned on by seeing you like this? so desperate, so needy?”

“i… i didn’t think…” you stammer, the words catching in your throat as his finger curls inside you, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

“didn’t think?” suguru’s voice is a low, dangerous hum, his other hand slipping up to wrap lightly around your throat, holding you firmly in place. “then maybe you should’ve thought a little harder.”

satoru practically stumbles forward, his legs still shaky, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he moves closer. he’s got that pleading look in his eyes, the one that’s rare, the one that only comes out when he’s truly desperate. resting his head against suguru’s shoulder, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, voice low and needy as he murmurs, “suguru… let me taste her. please.”

suguru’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly reveling in the control he holds over both of you. he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you through the mirror, dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far more possessive.

“hear that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, dipping his fingers back between your folds, swirling them slowly, thoroughly, gathering every bit of slick as he teases you with languid strokes. “even satoru can’t resist you.”

you gasp, body shivering as his fingers press against you, teasing the sensitive spot that has you arching in his lap, barely able to keep your head straight. suguru’s hand is relentless, moving with a torturous slowness that leaves you aching, dripping, clinging to the last bit of control you have left.

then, with deliberate care, suguru pulls his fingers back, coated in your slick, and holds them up in front of satoru’s lips, his gaze hard and commanding. “go on, then. taste her.”

satoru’s eyes darken with unrestrained hunger as he stares at suguru’s fingers, coated with the evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he parts his lips, leaning in to take suguru’s fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks gently, his tongue swirling around suguru’s fingers, tasting you fully. he moans, soft and low, savoring the taste, his body shuddering as he licks every trace of slick from suguru’s skin, desperate, greedy.

“fuck, she tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent, as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to you, his gaze heated. “didn’t know you could be this sweet.”

suguru chuckles softly, watching satoru with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, his fingers finding their way back between your folds, slipping in with ease, now even more eager to tease you, to push you right to the edge and keep you there.

“well, you heard him, sweetheart. seems like we’re both a little addicted to you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety taunt, his breath hot against your ear. “you’d better get used to this — having both of us right where you want us. or, should i say, right where we want you?”

you’re lost in the haze of it all, every shred of control slipping as you feel yourself practically begging, voice breaking with need. “please, sugu… 'toru… i need… just, please, do something — anything,” you gasp, head tilting back, completely vulnerable under their gaze. "can't take it anymore."

satoru’s hand slips around suguru’s shoulder, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to suguru’s neck, lips brushing against his skin as he murmurs, “c’mon, sugu, don’t be so mean to her.” he lets his teeth graze just slightly, a playful nip that’s more coaxing than demanding. “just look at her, desperate for us, dripping all over you. can’t you give her a little taste of what she’s been begging for?”

suguru’s gaze flickers between you and satoru, a dark smile on his lips, but you can see the way his resolve begins to soften under satoru’s coaxing. his grip loosens just enough, giving you a chance to scramble up, your legs feeling like jelly as he finally lets you go. he stands, smirking down at you with a hunger that makes you shiver, and gestures for you to sit back on satoru’s lap.

the vanity chair feels cold beneath you, but the warmth of satoru’s chest pressed against your back is intoxicating, his hands coming down to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “thaaat’s it, baby, open up for sugu. let him see how pretty you are.”

you whimper as you feel suguru’s fingers trailing up your inner thigh, eyes locked on cunt as he kneels down between your legs, his gaze dark and unyielding, filled with that same possessive hunger you’ve come to crave. his hands settle on your thighs, tugging you just a bit closer, his grip firm as he lowers his head, placing a kiss right against your aching, dripping pussy.

satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them spread, his lips brushing against your ear. “look at you, such a messy lil' thing. bet you never thought we’d be the ones to make you this needy, hm?” his voice is a low murmur, taunting yet sweet, driving you to the edge with every word. “just let suguru take care of you… let him taste allll that sweetness you’ve been saving just for us.”

“oh god… please,” you breathe, voice breaking as suguru’s tongue flicks against your perky clit, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through you. he works with a deliberate intensity, his mouth moving in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing you, pushing you higher and higher, until you can barely think, every nerve alight with sensation.

“thaaaat’s right, just like that,” satoru murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter, keeping you spread wide open as he watches suguru devour you. “such a pretty lil' thing, all laid out for us… makin' a mess just for him.” his hand moves up, sliding around to your chest, fingers grazing over your nipples as he leans in close, lips brushing against your neck. “think you can take more? think you can handle everything we want to do to you?”

suguru’s mouth moves with more intensity now, his tongue pressing harder, faster, flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, hitting that spongey spot that has you arching back against satoru, your voice breaking into a desperate, breathless moan.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?” satoru coos, his tone almost mocking, a playful edge to it as he watches your every reaction in the mirror. “look at you, falling apart so easily. gonna make such a pretty mess, aren’t cha?”

suguru’s fingers pump into you, his tongue swirling, flicking, his movements pushing you to that razor’s edge. his grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you tremble, his own hunger growing as he devours you with an almost feral intensity. "come on," he growls against you, his voice low, sending vibrations through you. "cum for us, show us how much you need it."

and that’s all it takes — his fingers curling inside you, his mouth pressing down, sending you spiraling over the edge as you cry out, back arching, body quivering as your orgasm crashes over you. you feel yourself let go, shuddering in their hold, leaving you breathless, a mess on satoru’s lap as suguru keeps working you through it, lapping up every bit of your sweet cum, refusing to let you come down easily.

“there you go,” satoru murmurs, voice laced with satisfaction as he keeps you spread wide, watching you come undone, helpless and completely at their mercy. “such a good girl… makin' a mess for us like that.”

suguru pulls back slowly, a smug grin plastered on his face, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. he chuckles lowly, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he wipes a bit off his face with the back of his hand, though not nearly enough to hide what he’s done to you.

“look at that,” he taunts, giving you a mockingly impressed look. “made ya squirt allll over my face. you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? such a messy little thing…” he trails off, licking his lips as if savoring every last taste.

you feel heat rush to your face, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as you squirm in satoru’s lap. “don’t… don’t say it like that,” you mumble, your voice trembling, though there’s no denying how much his words affect you. you can’t hide how badly you’re still aching, the intense wave of arousal making you want more, despite the fact that you just came, and squirted, at that.

satoru’s hands roam along your thighs, holding you tight, his lips curved into a playful grin as he leans forward, his mouth hovering close to suguru’s. “she did a number on ya, huh?” he says, eyes gleaming with delight as he catches sight of the slick coating suguru’s chin.

without missing a beat, satoru closes the gap, his lips capturing suguru’s in a deep, messy kiss, tasting you on him, savoring it. he moans softly, the sound low and teasing, his tongue exploring with unrestrained enthusiasm as he presses closer.

the sight of them kissing, sharing your taste, is almost too much to bear. you can’t stop the whimper that escapes you, a sound so needy it leaves you breathless. “don’t leave me out,” you plead, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “please… i want…”

they both pull back, a wicked grin spreading across satoru’s face as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing your lip in a slow, taunting motion. “oh, sooo needy, aren’t cha?” he purrs, enjoying every bit of your desperation. “well, we can’t just ignore a request like that, can we, sugu?”

“not at all,” suguru murmurs, his voice low and filled with mischief as he moves closer, settling back down in front of you. he places his hands on your thighs, his fingers curling possessively as he draws nearer. “c'mon, sweetheart. let’s make it a little messier, just how like you like it.”

satoru’s hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips brush against yours, just close enough to make your pulse race. suguru’s hand finds its way to your cheek, and in a moment, the three of you come together in a heated, breathless kiss. your lips meet satoru’s first, his mouth soft but demanding, as suguru’s lips slide over yours from the other side, his taste mingling with the lingering remnants of your own cum. it’s dizzying, overwhelming, the way they both claim you, tongues slipping against yours, tasting, exploring, hands holding you in place as if you might slip away.

“you taste so damn good,” suguru whispers against your lips between kisses, his voice hoarse, filled with a dark satisfaction. he pulls you back into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before satoru’s slips in, joining the two of you, the three of you completely lost in each other.

“bet you never thought ya’d end up like this, huh?” satoru teases, voice a breathy murmur as his lips trail down to your jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that have you arching closer to him. “on my lap, our pretty little thing, squirmin' and desperate for both of us.”

suguru lets out a quiet sigh, and you can see the strain of impatience tightening his jaw as he kneels in front of you and satoru, his brow furrowed in something halfway between a pout and a scowl. he’s letting you and satoru indulge and draw things out, but his patience— impressive as it is — seems to be fraying at the edges.

“look at you two,” he murmurs, a dry chuckle slipping out. “have your fun, make your mess, and where does that leave me?” his gaze flickers between you and satoru, voice low and pointed. “just standing here, waiting, like a good little bystander?”

“oh, poor suguru,” satoru teases, his hand running soothingly down your back as he shifts you on his lap. “you’ve been so patient, haven’t you? just watching and… wanting?” satoru’s lips twitch in a smirk, his fingers curling against your hip as if making a show of it for suguru’s benefit.

suguru’s eyes narrow slightly, his usual calm slipping into something darker. “patience only goes so far, satoru,” he mutters, tone thick with frustration. “you two get to cum like a bunch of damn teenagers, but where does that leave me?”

you reach out, voice soft, feeling a pang of guilt. “suguru… don’t be mad.” you give him a small smile, tugging him closer. “we didn’t forget about you.”

satoru grins, pulling suguru even closer. “yeah, don’t worry, we’re all yours now. what do you want, hmm?” his voice drops, playful but inviting, his hand resting on suguru’s shoulder.

suguru’s hand reaches out to cup your chin, thumb tracing along your jaw as he finally, slowly, allows himself to smile. “maybe,” he says, voice soft but firm, “you both owe me a little something for waiting so long. i’ve put up with enough teasing.”

satoru chuckles, sharing a look with you before looking back at suguru. “oh, we can more than make it worth the wait, can’t we?”

suguru’s eyes glint with that familiar authority as he finally straightens up, standing up and crossing the room with calm, measured steps. his gaze flickers between you and satoru, a quiet command already forming in his dark, focused eyes. he looks pointedly at satoru, a hint of impatience underscoring his words.

“satoru,” he says, his voice low and firm, “take her to the bed. it’s about time you two put in some work.”

satoru’s eyes light up with a mischievous gleam, and he scoops you up, one arm slipping under your knees as he gently lifts you, carrying you to the bed without a second’s hesitation.

he sets you down on the bed, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in close, his gaze warm but teasing. suguru settles back in the chair by your vanity, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness as he watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. there’s a clear expectation in his expression, a silent reminder that he’s still in control here.

“don’t let me down now, satoru,” suguru says, his voice rich with authority, his gaze unwavering. “show me exactly how well you can follow instructions.”

suguru exhales sharply, eyes narrowing as he watches you and satoru with a simmering impatience. his jaw tightens as he pushes down his waistband in one swift motion, freeing himself with a low, restrained groan as his hand wraps around his dick, stroking slowly, his gaze heavy and fixed on the two of you.

“don’t just sit there,” he says, his tone edged with authority. “if you’re so set on putting on a show, then do it right. make it worth my while.”

satoru grins, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he glances at you, his fingers tracing down your arm before he pulls you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

“guess we’d better make him happy, hmm?” he teases, hands resting on your hips as he guides you down onto his dick, his touch both reassuring and charged with excitement. “don’t want to disappoint, do we?”

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in being watched, knowing suguru’s eyes are glued to every little move you make. your hands grip satoru’s shoulders, and he chuckles, encouraging you as you settle in him, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“that’s it,” suguru murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “show me how eager you are.”

you can feel satoru’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as you begin to move, finding a rhythm together. satoru’s hands roam along your waist, his voice filled with playful heat as he whispers, “keep going, just like that. let him see how good you are.”

suguru laughs, a low, mocking sound as he sits back, continuing to jerk himself off, his dark gaze fixed on you, unrelenting. “pathetic. you think you deserve to be taken out and treated sweetly?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got two men right here who know exactly what you need, and you were gonna settle for some monkey? that’s adorable.”

the humiliation sinks in, burning hot under your skin as suguru’s words echo in your head. you try to keep your focus, to follow each command as satoru’s hands guide your movements, urging you to grind down on him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers filthy encouragements that send shivers down your spine.

“come on pretty, don’t look at him, look at me,” satoru murmurs, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of your hips, directing you with a firm, possessive touch. “thaaat’s it. show him who you really belong to.”

your hands tremble as you cling to satoru’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth between him and suguru, who’s watching with that insatiable hunger in his eyes, his own hand moving lazily along his dick, strokes slow, deliberate, just enough to keep himself on the edge as he observes every humiliating, vulnerable moment between you and satoru.

“god, you look so pathetic right now,” suguru sneers, his voice thick with disdain, though his eyes glint with barely contained desire. “tears in your eyes, desperate to please us. tell me, was this what you were hoping for? were you just pretending to go on that date so we’d punish you? is that it?”

“n-no, i… i just thought…” the words choke in your throat as you feel satoru’s hand slide up to grip the back of your neck, his touch both comforting and possessive, holding you in place, forcing you to look into suguru’s intense gaze as he studies every quiver of your lips, every tear that spills over.

“don’t lie to us,” suguru snaps, and the sheer authority in his voice sends a thrill through you, leaving you helpless as you try to keep your rhythm on satoru’s lap, your body caught between the need to please them both and the overwhelming shame of being so exposed, so vulnerable under their scrutiny.

“you’re lucky ’m lettin' him touch you first,” suguru continues, voice low, his hand moving faster now, breaths coming in harsher pants as his own arousal intensifies. “lucky i’m not dragging you over here and showing you what real punishment feels like. maybe then you’d think twice about pulling a stunt like this again.”

“i… i’m sorry,” you whimper, the apology tumbling out without thought, the words desperate, choked as you try to meet suguru’s unyielding gaze, wanting so badly to appease him, to make up for even the idea of going anywhere without them. satoru’s grip tightens, his hands moving with a rougher urgency, guiding your hips faster, harder against him as he murmurs praises, teasing promises against your neck.

“yeah? you’re sorry, huh?” suguru taunts, leaning forward, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “then prove it. show me how sorry you are by doing exactly what we tell you — no hesitation. make me believe you’d do anything to keep us happy.”

“y-yes, suguru…” you whisper, cheeks burning with shame as you follow satoru’s guidance, riding him just the way he wants, feeling every inch of him pressing into you, the tension building with each movement, each lewd sound that fills the room.

“good girl,” suguru breathes, eyes dark, satisfaction evident as he watches you, his strokes quickening, matching the pace of your desperate motions, his gaze unwavering, fixed on the sight of you breaking down, surrendering completely to their control. “maybe this will teach you who you really belong to.”

satoru’s grip on your waist tightens with each roll of your hips, his smirk stretching wider as he watches you struggle to keep pace, his cock stretching you until your thighs tremble. your own voice, hoarse and raw, betrays you with every sound that slips free, the room filled with your desperate, incoherent whimpers.

but it’s suguru who keeps that edge of humiliation sharp, his fingers finding every weak spot, every place that makes you melt and squirm as he's behind you.

“c’mmon, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his fingers pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. the roughness makes you gasp, your body arching as you try to focus, but his low chuckle tells you he knows just how close to breaking you really are.

“thought you wanted to go out and be wined and dined, hm? but look at you,” he taunts, his words hitting deeper than any touch could. “acting like a little masochist, practically begging for more. ’m not even sure you remember who’s inside you right now, or are you just too dumb on ‘toru’s cock to care?”

“s-sugu… i–i can… i’m –” your words stumble, dissolve, lost in a gasp as his fingers come down with a sharp slap! against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your whole body shiver. it’s overwhelming, cruel, but there’s no denying how much you crave it - the brutal control, the way they push you further, faster, until all you can do is hold on.

“oh, i think you like it, babe,” satoru teases, his tone dripping with that cocky assurance as he watches your dazed expression. “see, you’re taking everything we’re givin' you, even that little ache in your hips. you’re just gonna keep goin', aren’t cha?”

“y-yes… anything… i’ll… i can — i can take it,” you pant, voice catching as you meet suguru’s dark eyes, filled with that familiar, ruthless amusement. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his touch unyielding as he pinches your nipples again, harder this time, watching with satisfaction as your face contorts with a mix of pleasure and pain.

“yeah? then prove it,” suguru breathes, his voice low, daring, as his fingers slide back down to flick against your swollen clit with a relentless pace. “show me how much you can handle. if you’re gonna be ours, then you’d better keep up.”

it’s cruel, it’s overwhelming, but that edge of that masochistic thrill surges through you as you sink deeper, surrendering to every brutal, delicious touch, loving it more than you could ever admit.

satoru’s grip on you falters, barely able to register when suguru thrusts into you from behind, satoru's hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as he tries to steady both of you under the sudden, relentless rhythm. the shock jolts through your whole body, forcing a strangled moan from your lips as you’re practically bounced between them, your mind barely keeping up with the intensity. it’s messy, overwhelming, the slickness of your bodies pressed together, every nerve ending alight.

“you little slut,” suguru snarls, voice rough and dark, his grip bruising as he slams into you, barely giving you a moment to adjust. “thought you could keep me out of this? thought ‘toru could have you all to himself? what a selfish bastard,” he sneers, throwing a mocking glance at satoru, who’s panting beneath you, just as helpless as you, his own words failing him in the haze of pleasure.

satoru’s only response is a choked groan, his nails digging into your skin as he’s forced deeper inside you with every brutal thrust from suguru. “f-fuck… yeah… yeah, you’re right, sugu,” he manages to gasp out, voice strained. “should’ve… should’ve let you have her from the start, huh?”

his words are broken, barely coherent, but the way his hips buck up to meet you makes it clear just how much he’s losing himself in the feeling, in the sight of you completely overwhelmed between the two of them. his eyes lock onto yours, desperation painted across his face as he breathes, “who’s making you feel better, huh, baby? tell us… tell us who’s got you like this.”

the question leaves you reeling, mind scrambling to answer as every thrust sends sparks down your spine, your body caught in the unyielding rhythm of their touch, their words. the overwhelming intensity builds, cresting higher and higher until you can’t even find the words, can’t think of anything but the way they’re both consuming you whole.

and when suguru’s fingers snake down to rub at your clit with punishing pressure, it sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision going white as your whole body clenches, shuddering violently. your orgasm crashes over you, raw and uncontrollable, soaking both of them as you shake, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowns out everything else.

“oh, fuuuck, yeaah… that’s it,” suguru growls, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you cum, his thrusts not slowing, his hand digging into your hips with renewed force. “knew you’d come apart like this, just needed a little push. pathetic, aren’t you? look at you, makin' a mess all over us.”

satoru moans, his own hips thrusting up as he feels your cum coat his dick, his eyes half-lidded, dazed. but before you can even catch your breath, satoru’s hands are already pulling you down, his grip firm as he positions you above him, eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger.

“oh, you thought you were done, sweetheart?” he taunts, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “nah, you’re not getting off that easy.”

he drags you forward, forcing you to settle over his mouth as he takes a loonnng, deliberate lick, his tongue swirling over your already sensitive folds. a sharp, keening whine escapes your lips as the overstimulation makes your head spin, hands scrambling to grip the headboard as you try to find any bit of balance.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” satoru groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder. “can feel you shakin', baby. what’s wrong? thought you could handle us?”

“sato — please,” you gasp, the plea spilling from your lips as his mouth works you over, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking until you’re trembling, barely able to hold yourself up.

“oh, you’re just greedy, aren’t cha?” suguru’s voice comes from behind, mocking yet laced with desire as he steps up, his hands pressing down on your back, pinning you against satoru’s mouth as he positions himself against your other roommate. “actin' like a needy little thing… and leaving me to finish off while you get all comfy on ‘toru’s face?”

satoru lets out a muffled moan, and you realize suguru’s not just watching — he’s lining himself up against satoru, pushing inside with a sharp thrust that makes satoru’s body jerk beneath you, his hands digging harder into your thighs as he’s sandwiched against you both.

“fuck, suguru,” satoru moans, his voice coming out muffled as he keeps his mouth firmly latched onto you, his grip tightening as his body shivers with every thrust suguru gives him.

“god, 'toru, you’re so desperate,” suguru sneers, picking up a ruthless pace, each thrust making satoru’s tongue press deeper against you, pushing you closer to another orgasm despite the aching overstimulation that has you seeing stars. “you’re always actin' like a greedy little perv… can’t even let me have her to myself without gettin' ya share, huh?”

satoru’s hands move to grab your waist, pulling you closer, nearly burying his face in your sloppy pussy as he lets out a choked, needy whine against you. “c-can’t help it… shit, ya feel so good,” he gasps, voice muffled and broken, his breath warm against your swollen folds as his tongue presses deeper, eager and desperate. “taste s'sweet, baby… can’t get enough.”

you’re practically sobbing by now, your hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white as you rock against his face, feeling the pleasure climb with each swirl of his tongue, each brush of his lips. “i… i can’t… too much, satoru, please —”

“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” suguru growls, his hand coming up to push between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch as he ruts into satoru, the sharp rhythm making you jolt with each movement. “you’re gonna stay right here and take it, just like the little slut you are, yeah? don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

satoru’s moans grow louder, more desperate, as he’s thrust into over and over, the pleasure and intensity breaking him down as his grip on you tightens, his mouth working you over with fervor, almost as if he’s trying to drown himself in you.

“who’s makin' ya feel good, huh?” suguru taunts, his voice dark and rough as he keeps up his pace, driving satoru’s face further against you with every thrust. “tell me who’s got you fallin' apart like this.”

“y-you both — oh god, both of you, please —” you stammer, your voice breaking as your thighs shake, every nerve alight, each stroke of satoru’s tongue pushing you closer until you’re lost, another orgasm overtaking you, spilling over like a flood that leaves you sobbing, spent, and completely theirs.

caught between suguru and satoru, the pleasure swells in waves, overtaking you so completely that words blur into desperate confessions, spilling out between gasps and shudders.

“l-love you… both of you, so much,” you babble, the sincerity threaded with breathless need, and it’s enough to push them over the edge.

satoru’s groans vibrate against you as he holds your hips, fighting to keep focus on your pleasure even as suguru’s relentless hand brings him to his own breaking point. he tries to keep his mouth steady, his tongue still teasing over you, but he’s undone, bucking helplessly, gasping, “shit… suguru, i —”

“you like this, don’t you?” suguru sneers, his voice thick with both pride and satisfaction as he thrusts into satoru. “can’t even take your eyes off her, even while i'm inside you,” he taunts, his words making even satoru flush. “look at you both, so desperate, so damn needy.”

satoru lets out a strangled moan, his body tensing as he comes, his release coating his own stomach as suguru’s hand jerks him through it. satoru’s head tilts back, eyes half-lidded with dazed pleasure, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he lets himself fall into the sensation, never breaking contact with you.

the combination of their sounds, suguru’s deep, satisfied groans as he spills into satoru, satoru’s quiet, shuddering gasps beneath you, and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your own body, sends you tumbling into your third - or was it fourth? - climax. it’s dizzying, consuming, leaving you boneless, shaking, barely holding onto the headboard as the last tremors run through you.

satoru is quick to catch you, his strong arms guiding you down to rest, his mouth softening from its earlier intensity as he places gentle kisses against your thighs. “ya good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his tone tender, grounding you with a warm smile as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.

“yeah… just, totally spent,” you mumble, a laugh slipping out as you relax into his hold. suguru settles beside you, his hand stroking soothing circles on your back, his gaze softened from its earlier sharpness.

“good girl,” suguru praises, his voice quiet now, full of affection as he pulls a blanket over you. “took everything we gave you… we’re proud of you.” his lips brush your forehead, and for a moment, there’s only warmth, only the steady rise and fall of your breaths.

you snuggle between them, letting out a contented sigh. “oh, by the way, um…” you start, a sheepish pout forming, “there wasn’t actually a date tonight.”

there’s a beat of silence before satoru bursts into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face as he leans back, groaning.

“are you serious?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “we did all that because you made up some story?”

suguru smirks, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leans close, tugging you gently by the chin so you’re looking right at him. “you’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice low with amusement. “but you’re ours now, so there’s no need to make up stories to get our attention.”

“unless…” satoru teases, his eyes glinting mischievously. “you just like getting us all riled up.” he taps your nose, chuckling as he pulls you back against him, letting you rest in his embrace.

you let out a soft giggle, feeling safe, cherished, utterly at ease. satoru's arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him as his laughter bubbles up, muffled by your hair.

"oh, yeah," he snickers, his voice low and teasing, "guess we’re a trio now, huh? what, you didn’t think it’d get official after all that?”

suguru huffs a laugh, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he leans in, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of amusement and mischief. “our little trio, huh?” he murmurs, his tone somehow both affectionate and playful. “and here i thought you’d keep us on our toes a little longer.”

you look up at them both, cheeks still warm, lips swollen from all the breathless kisses, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out of you. “so that’s it, huh? i’m stuck with you two now?”

“stuck?” satoru grins, his voice full of mock offense. “you better be thrilled to be our third, princess. you know how hard it was to keep this one” — he tilts his head at suguru, whose smirk only grows — "from swooping in first?”

suguru chuckles, rolling his eyes as he brushes a thumb along your cheek, his voice dipping. “oh, she was always going to be ours,” he murmurs, confident and possessive. “it was just a matter of when.”

“and where,” satoru quips, giving your hip a playful squeeze, making you squirm with a laugh. "and how often."

you press your hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “what did i get myself into?” you mock-groan, only to have both of them pull you close, laughter and warmth wrapping around you, sealing you into your newfound trio — exactly where you want to be.

#satosugu smut #satosugu x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

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loafteaw · 16 days ago

Text

I LOVEEE

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit.

in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.

you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok.

you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy.

and oh, did the internet have thoughts.

soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:

who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS

you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel.

like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.

soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:

the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.

and the kicker?

you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters.

here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.

but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least.

you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.

“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”

suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly).

and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).

you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.

but the cherry on top?

oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.

they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.

one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:

homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”

it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.

“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves.

who the hell were you to say no to that?

it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.

the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.

you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.

“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”

“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”

the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.

“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”

honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.

“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”

“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.”

yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.

“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”

“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”

“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”

toji fushiguro?

if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend.

he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?

“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.

gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”

you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people.

“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?”

“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”

“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”

“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”

“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”

oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.

sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.

you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.

by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.

sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.

another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.

“tough night?”

“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”

“…can’t say that i have.”

you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.

“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.

the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”

the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”

“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”

why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.

“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.

and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.

in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.

oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”

the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”

oh god.

but you couldn’t stop now.

you were committed.

you were bold.

with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”

“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all.

oh god, this was actually happening.

he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.

he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”

“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.”

smooth, real smooth.

“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”

“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”

he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”

you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”

he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”

“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.

the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”

“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”

he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.

the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”

“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”

he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”

it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”

before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.

oh god. oh god.

you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time?

run.

“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”

he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”

you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.

“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.

“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”

he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”

“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.

you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.

maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.

he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.

you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”

he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”

you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”

“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.

“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.

but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”

princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”

“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”

you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”

“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”

you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”

he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”

you blinked, feeling a blush rise.

this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters.

oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.

“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”

“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”

oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.

somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.

was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?

“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.

“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.

oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.

“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”

“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”

“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”

“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”

he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.

and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”

“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.

“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.

oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.

“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.

you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”

“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking.

toji, toji… where had you heard that name?

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”

“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”

he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”

“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro.

the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life.

the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.

“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”

he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”

you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow — you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”

he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”

your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.

“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”

toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”

just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.

you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene.

you’d probably just hit rock bottom.

“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”

toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”

you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement.

“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.

toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”

you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”

toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”

he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”

oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.

normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”

wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.

OH.

your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.

“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”

as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.

“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”

you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.

you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?

as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.

the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face.

great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day.

toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.

you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?

“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.

“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”

toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”

you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.

“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”

you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”

the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.

toji always knew he was hot.

i mean, how could he not?

with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question!

being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.

“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”

“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”

toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”

“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”

“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.

fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.

“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.

“dad! there’s water everywhere!”

toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.

but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.

“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”

because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.

he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”

he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!

but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no.

if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find.

and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring.

because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.

“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.

“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”

“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."

another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”

“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.

“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.

toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.

with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”

great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.

just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”

the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”

toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.

then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”

when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”

of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him.

“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.

whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”

some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”

“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”

“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”

so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king” or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”

but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.

big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence.

“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.

“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”

but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.

by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”

but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”

all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.

then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love.

maybe both.

of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”

after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly.

and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”

her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.

“toji. toji fushiguro.”

the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”

toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan.

so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him.

talk about a power move.

“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young.

he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.

“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.

“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”

you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address.

impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.”

a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.

so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.

but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head.

“you can dance… you can jive…”

great, now he’d be humming it for days.

both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you.

toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.

“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”

“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”

toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.

“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.

“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”

you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.

all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.

“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”

a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now?

he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.

“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.

toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”

you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”

“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.

suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”

“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”

with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.

suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”

nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table.

you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you.

ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.

you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.

toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.

“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”

he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly.

oh god, why is he looking at us like that?

“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.

toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”

oh my god.

you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.

“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”

“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.

toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”

“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.

“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”

toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.

it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.

the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.

“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”

devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”

he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”

“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”

from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”

you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”

“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”

she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”

toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.

you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.

and it only gets worse.

another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.

“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”

you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years.

at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.

just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.

“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really.

there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting.

toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.

gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?

“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.

you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.

you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”

but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.

you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.

“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”

toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed.

and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.

“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”

you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines.

you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this?

he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.

toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”

gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”

you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.

one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”

and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.

“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”

the room is dead silent.

you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.

finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you.

“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”

you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.

the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.

sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less.

is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.

there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.

as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly.

maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut.

or… cheap anything, really.

yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.

just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.

“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”

you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing.

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.

of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar.

oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…

wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking.

definitely that.

but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.

"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t.

“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”

it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila.

if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.

but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.

“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”

you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”

“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”

yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.

you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.

“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”

and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever.

but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.

which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”

toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”

oh. okay.

you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?

definitely not questioning life choices here.

by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused.

toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.

“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.

but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.

without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”

the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat.

“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”

defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?

“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.

“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”

you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something.

but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.

“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”

“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.

the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity.

“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”

and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”

the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something.

what the hell is happening right now?

with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.

“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”

toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.

“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.

toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.

you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday.

as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity.

and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.

but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces.

that’s something.

toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much.

today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.

toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?

while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare.

it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.

ah, kids.

as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.

“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.

“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”

he nods, considering. “good answer.”

a pause. “favorite superhero?”

“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.

“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”

noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.

then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”

“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.

he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.

“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.

he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi.

he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.

but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice.

almost… reassuring?

ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line,

“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…”

yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.

of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.

“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.

toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason.

“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then.

maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.

toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left.

“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”

toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.

you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend. gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.

satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged.

“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”

“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.

“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.

"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.

"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.

"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.

toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”

ouch. okay, fair point.

because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really.

toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.

meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.

"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.

you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”

megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes.

but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”

toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”

"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”

toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”

you make a face, biting your lip.

“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”

toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”

“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.

“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.

“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”

you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”

the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.

still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.

“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game.

but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.

toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.

but then he catches himself. seriously?

he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever.

he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it.

nothing more.

yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.

“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.

“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.

toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest.

yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something.

and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.”

but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.

he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move.

he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.

but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.

toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.

gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right? gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔

toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.

you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that. gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying. gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.

he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…

well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.

toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.

you are the dancing queen…

it’s absurd, really.

he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.

young and sweet, only seventeen…

and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter.

he chalks it up to the neon lights.

or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.

feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...

oh god.

is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.

you can dance, you can jive…

the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.

having the time of your life…

and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.

toji sighs, shaking his head at himself.

just great.

the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.

toji's trying his best to lock in.

but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.

he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him.

stay focused, toji.

he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it.

but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.

ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile.

“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.

“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”

toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again.

oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.

the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.

and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing.

oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.

“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”

“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”

he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”

“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?

“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.

but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”

“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.

“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”

wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?

you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”

so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home.

and lowkey?

so does toji.

it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.

he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.

but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”

megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.

“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial.

your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.

toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.

“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.

as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.

“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”

but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”

toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked.

“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise.

megumi doesn’t cry.

ever.

this is new territory.

megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”

you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.

“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”

“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart.

“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”

the absolute silence that follows is deafening.

you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.

“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”

“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”

toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second.

makes him smile.

he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.

“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “

maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”

“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.

“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”

“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”

“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”

“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.

megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”

“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”

megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”

toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door.

gentlemanly of him, sure.

though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.

“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”

“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.

“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”

“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”

you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.

“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”

“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you.

“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”

“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”

the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.

“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”

your face goes nuclear.

that line.

of all the lines, that one?

“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.

“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”

“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”

“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”

“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”

there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.

“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”

“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up.

“so that’s what you think of me?”

“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”

“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”

“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”

“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.

your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”

“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.

“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.

ah, shit.

as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.

“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”

toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.

“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”

toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”

“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”

“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”

“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.

“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”

toji’s eyes go wide.

“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”

“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.

toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness.

that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now?

yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.

“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”

megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”

toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”

they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans.

as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.

“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in.

but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second.

he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.

“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”

“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”

toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”

megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”

toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that.

happy, huh?

he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder.

wonder what life could look like with you in it.

but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?

“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”

ugh.

he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.

“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”

“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.

megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”

toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”

and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.

ah, shit.

as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.

with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.

you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?

a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.

gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract??? gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?

toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.

you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?

he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.

gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT??? gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments? gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??

toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.

you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed? gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice?? gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?

toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.

you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private. you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.

there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off.

but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.

gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy. gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor. gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.

toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.

you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman. gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.

and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind.

stupid.

he shouldn’t have even told gojo.

but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself.

not even a bit.

as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened.

you kissed toji fushiguro.

the toji fushiguro.

colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.

but the problem?

there was a mini him there.

a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze.

you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad?

and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!

you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet.

“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips.

“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”

your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles.

“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.

ugh.

“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”

you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”

you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”

your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again.

“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”

you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”

you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head.

that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…

stop.

but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.

“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.

you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips.

burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said.

well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.

you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.

“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought.

but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.

“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself.

if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?

your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”

you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him.

his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath.

girl, get a grip.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!

it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.

“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”

but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.

but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…

you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.

ah, shit.

you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension.

the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.

“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.

“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”

“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”

“and what occasion is that, exactly?”

“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.

you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”

“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.

“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”

“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”

“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”

gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”

you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”

“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”

he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”

just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment.

in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.

“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.

you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing?

“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.

gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.

“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”

toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.

you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?

toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”

“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.

“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.

meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed.

giggling. when was the last time he did that?

he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no.

by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck.

definitely.

but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins.

it was, somehow, worse.

his mind cued up dancing queen.

“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop.

“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”

why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.

“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.

and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.”

god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.

“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”

yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.

and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head.

and knowing gojo? he probably already had.

the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today.

and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji.

alone.

in silence.

you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.

finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —

“are you single?”

you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.

“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.

“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”

“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”

there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.

“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”

“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”

“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”

“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”

you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”

“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.

“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.

“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”

“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.

“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”

“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”

toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter.

“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”

the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —

the studio door banged open.

“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.

you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.

“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.

toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.

“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”

your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass.

you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.

“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”

outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt.

toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.

“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”

you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”

“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.

“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass.

was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?

but then —

“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”

toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”

“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”

toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.

“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it.

“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice.

you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.

“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”

toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”

gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”

toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.”

he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.

by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.

“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”

“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”

toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”

gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”

both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation.

“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”

“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.

“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”

“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”

“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”

“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.

“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”

you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison.

something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…

toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited.

gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”

gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”

you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”

suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”

“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”

he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”

you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”

suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face.

“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”

“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.

toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen.

who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?

the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere.

suguru.

that damn calm, collected face of his.

the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.

toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.

why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right?

sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually.

but still.

he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.

before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.

“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”

you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.

“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”

“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”

you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”

but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.

“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”

“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.

you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.

he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”

toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.”

the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.

“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”

toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”

as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”

toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”

“oh? like, you?”

he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”

you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”

“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”

at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks.

and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru?

he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?

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#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader #jujutsu toji #toji x you

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loafteaw · 17 days ago

Text

OH MY GODODODODODODBEJDJWJDNQNWNWN

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene."

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in.

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers.

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!”

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up.

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under.

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck.

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless.

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table.

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond.

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?”

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage.

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you

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loafteaw · 17 days ago

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WHO DECIDED TO GATEKEEP THIS.

credit: haekz (ig) I WAS TOLD THIS BY A COMMENT!!

#jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk geto

21K notes · View notes

loafteaw · 17 days ago

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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?”

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows.

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.”

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!”

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him.

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot.

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side.

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!”

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right?

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be.

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!”

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake.

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him.

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it).

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute.

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal.

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes.

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.”

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?”

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars.

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly.

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!”

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read to the end we're making out.

UPDATE: DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO CHARACTER AI?!? it's plain disrespectful. callout 1 and 2 on the thief (who is @/grimmjowsweetheart.)

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #jjk smut #jjk fluff

29K notes · View notes

loafteaw · 18 days ago

Text

oh my love nicole 😭😭 this was so goddamn amazing; every moment of reading this girl i love u so much and ur talented works 😭💗 dont even worry about the late post 😭

beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many others souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t to let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until and invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo smut

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loafteaw · 20 days ago

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we lov u guys,, ure never obligated to put out or create writings if u dont want to!! honestly, i as a reader already love being able to interact with most of u 😭💗 its SO sad how some ppl can’t understand that

you know, i wasn't going to make a post about this so as not to give this anon the satisfaction of a response, but they've been blocked so they won't see this anyway and i think there's a bigger issue to address here.

i want to start by saying that i've got thick skin and this doesn't affect me in the way they clearly would like it to. it says much more about them than it does about me and i've got bigger fish to fry than some insecure anon.

what i DO want to address is the fact that i've seen more and more posts popping up lately about how some people need to be nicer to authors and while this applies not just to authors but to everyone, i do feel it's worth mentioning that in all honesty i'm glad this came to me and not someone who may be put down by a message like this. i know the anon button tends to make some people much more bold but if at any point you ever think of sending anon hate to someone, maybe take a moment to consider how foolish of a notion that is.

on the topic of authors in particular, please bear in mind that we do this for free, in our spare time. i work a full time job, this is just a fun hobby for me. imagine if you shared your hobby with the world and someone anonymously told you it was bad, how would that make you feel? i'm quite fortunate that this sort of thing doesn't get to me but that doesn't make it any nicer of a message.

on a much lighter and somewhat unrelated note, i also received a very nice text from a wrong number around the same time as i read this message, so i think they cancel one another out lmao. just thought that was funny.

anyway, sorry for the much more serious post than my usual content, but please, as a reminder, be nice to authors, and for that matter be nice to everyone. you never know what someone else is going through, and even if you do, it's no excuse to be hateful or rude.

#🎥 creamflix ♡ behind the scenes

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loafteaw · 20 days ago

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oh my gosg WHADAHEK THIS SO GOOD

▷ (S)CREAM VI

Synopsis . In which your ‘killers’ soon realize you’re not stuck with them but they’re stuck with you… / Pairings . (Separate) Ghostface!Geto x f!reader, Ghostface!Gojo x f!reader, & Ghostface!Choso x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, three/foursome, squirting, non-curse au, oral sex, reader gets kinda passed around, men teasing one another, dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationship, lowk feral reader, cuck!Geto, rough sex, praise, overstim, degrading, tw: spitting, pet names, filth (cùm eating), pussy slapping, teasing, a hint of knife play, etc . / wc . 9.6k (oops!)

A/N: Sorry this is late, but anywho! I <3 Ghostface. Art creds to @aransmind [MDNI]

“You want me to wear that and chase you around the estate?”

“Yeah, and when you find me…”

“I fuck you instead of killing you.”

“Mhm!” You hum cheerfully to your rather concerned boyfriend whose lap you’re currently sitting on.

Those dark raven strands of hair framing his gorgeous face sway with the light tip of his head to the side as his naturally slim eyes narrow at your overly excited expression, “And I’m doing this, why?” Geto questions.

You let out a giggle, which only confuses him even more. “Because Scream is my favorite franchise and Ghostface is hot… Duh.”

It’s as if the man only falls for you more and more every day. Geto’s been with you for roughly two years now and yet you’ve never revealed this sudden… mask kink you clearly have. He likes the Scream franchise just as much as you do and the idea of chasing you around and eventually fucking you in costume definitely excites him.

So there you are; sitting in his lap and pouting, steadily snaking your arms around his neck and pulling yourself in close before you plant a chaste little kiss on his lips.

“C’mon Sugu, I know you’ve thought about it before,” You point out to him in a low purr as your lips depart from his.

The hands that’d been calmly resting on your hips suddenly grow intrigued as they slide up to your waist and give you a soft squeeze, “I really haven’t.” He admits honestly. You can see it all in his eyes that he silently agreed to this the moment you brought out that stupid mask.

At his soft admission, a gleaming smile spreads across your face, “Okayy, well you are now… So is that a yes or what?”

He pretends to think for only a moment longer, glancing off to the side in faux thought before landing those pretty lilac irises back onto you, “Yeah, sure. Tomorrow's Halloween so, we can do it then.” Geto tells you.

And that was all it took.

Halloween night was here before you even had time to fully prepare for it. The entire day you weren’t able to stop thinking about the moment Geto would walk through the front door, dressed in all black with that overly attractive ghostface mask cloaking his equally beautiful face.

Your heart was racing in anticipation as the sun began to set outside and the clock ticked closer and closer toward the time of which he would return home from work. You knew he’d be there no more than thirty minutes after and all you could do was wonder how this all would go down.

Clad in only one of his oversized white t-shirts, you distracted yourself by mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you awaited the moment he’d get home. Any second now and you’d hear that lovely security chime go off—

You jump a little in your bed when your thought is cut off by an incoming unknown number. If you weren’t buzzing with excitement before, you damn sure are now because it’s clear your boyfriend is going out of his way to play into this with you. There are practically small hearts in your eyes as you tap that enticing green button on your screen to answer the phone.

Biting back a smile, you’re quick to bring the phone up to your ear, “Hello?”

An almost low-quality distortion to the person’s voice is instantly recognized by you—it wasn’t Suguru’s voice at all, it was that infamous voice changer that spoke to you. “Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” A man asks, and you know this line all too well.

Hell, you know the entire dialogue. This is exactly why you sit up in your bed and hold back that smile of yours like your life depended on it. Tilting your head into the phone, you glance around your bedroom, “Who is this?”

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” The ‘mystery’ man continues.

You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from giggling right then and there. Your dark little fantasy was becoming true right before your very eyes and it had a sliver of excitement slipping down your spine. Sliding out from your bed, you take small steps toward the nearby window and glance outside.

Scoffing softly, “I don’t think so.” You quote, straight from the first Scream. You’ve seen the movie enough times to recite the whole thing word for word, even his lines.

It’s a bit off-script how things go from here on out but, that’s the goal.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” He purrs. Even with that damn voice changer, you’d recognize that purr any day. You know this is your boyfriend and that only has your body heating up with each passing second.

Now you’re left to improv a bit. “Think so?” You reply as you pull your bedroom curtains closed and turn away from the window.

“Oh I know so, sweetheart. It’s Halloween night and you’re doing nothing to celebrate.” The man on your phone points out.

You’re walking out of your room now and taking a careful peek into the dimmed hallway. “And that makes me not fun? What am I supposed to do to celebrate Halloween aside from dressing up and maybe handing out some candy?”

He chuckles. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure something else out.”

“Let me guess,” Your brows raise a little, “I should be watching scary movies?”

“That depends. You like scary movies?” There you are, right back onto the script.

“Uhuh,” You hum in response with a slight nod as if he could see you.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” And there it is, infamous line one of many. You nearly let out a dreamy sigh knowing that it’s nothing but your boyfriend on the other end.

Allowing yourself to smile this time, you trek down your hallway and towards the staircase. “Uhhh, I dunno,” Of course you know, but where’s the fun in saying it so soon?

“You have to have a favorite. What comes to mind?” Every scratchy distorted-pitched word that pours from the man’s mouth has anticipation bubbling within you.

You sigh. “Uhmm, Halloween!” As you recall that answer straight from the movie, you turn to your staircase and allow your eyes to scan the first floor of your home.

Most of the lights are on so it’s not too dark or anything but you really are curious whether or not Geto has made his way inside already.

“Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters?” You quote flawlessly yet again. You’re such a fanatic for the Scream franchise that you’re loving every single second of this.

“Yeahh,” He purrs again, making your heart involuntarily flutter.

You begin to slowly descend down the flight of stairs, “What’s yours?”

“Guess.” He orders on the other end.

Pausing halfway down, you glance over to your kitchen. The light is still on and everything is exactly the way you left it. “Uhm, Nightmare on Elm Street?” You soon reply.

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” The way your boyfriend knows every word to this just as well as you do makes your stomach churn in affection just a bit.

Your voice turns enthusiastic and you continue your steps down, “Yeah! Freddy Kruger.”

“Freddy, that’s right.” He continues, “I like that movie—it was scary.”

“Well the first one was but the rest sucked.” You’re downstairs now, looking around at the way all the blinds in your home are open. Did you leave them like that for this exact reason? You don’t remember.

“Mhm,” ‘Mystery’ man hums and you swear you can picture the smirk on his face as he utters the next infamous line. “Soo, you got a boyfriend?”

You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second before smiling, “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Now you’re making a right to enter your living room, heading toward your couch placed in the center.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks again.

You pause for a second. This literally is your boyfriend so, surely he wants you to play into this question, right?

“No.” You chirp simply.

You can hear the smile on his face even through that stupidly attractive voice changer, “You never told me your name.”

You know what comes after this and you can’t help but begin to look around as you plop down on your couch, “Why do you wanna know my name?”

It’s silent over the phone for a long couple of seconds

“Cause’ we wanna know who we’re looking at.”

Your heart surprisingly sinks as those words hit your ears. We? That’s not… how that scene goes. He was supposed to say that he wants to know who he’s looking at. There’s no we? Where the hell did he even get that from??

For the first time since you picked up this damn phone and started this whole thing, you’re actually a bit nervous. Chuckling loosely, you try to play it off as your eyes glance around your living room, “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

There’s a shuffling over the phone for just a moment. Then, you hear that distorted voice again, but the pitch is slightly different. “C’mon, princess. You’ve seen the movies, you should know by now that there’s hardly ever only one killer.” The man says.

Eyes all over every corner of the house, heart thumping slightly in your chest, you can feel your anxiety rising within. “I… I don’t understand.” You murmur softly.

And then… all the lights go out with a loud noise coming from somewhere outside. If you weren’t shaking in fear before, you damn sure are now. Your eyes go even wider and you move to put your phone on speaker, clicking your flashlight on right after.

“S-Suguru, this isn’t funny! I like the movies ‘nd all but I’m not the biggest fan of being scared, you know that.” The person(s) on the phone can hear the clear trembling in your voice as you stand up and point your flashlight to whatever area your eyes land on, searching for any signs of anyone.

There’s a snicker over the line. “Oh but this iss funny, sweets.” The tone changed again—it’s still distorted in that famous Ghostface pitch, but it’s not Suguru nor the person who’d said something before. “You look sooo scared right now.”

Aw hell, that lets you know he (or they) can see you right now. Which is just great considering you can’t see shit aside from darkness and the few areas of your house that your light lands on. You’re scared to leave the living room but… you’re also terrified of staying right where you are. You don’t know how many Ghostface’s are in your house right now and you don’t know what the hell Suguru has planned for you tonight.

“Stop playing around! Turn the lights back on and quit this scary shit, Suguru.” You huff out into the call, taking one step to your right and hearing the floor creak below your foot.

The house is eerily quiet—which is ridiculously concerning considering how he-, they can see you but you can’t see them at the moment. How the hell are they talking to you without you hearing them? They are in your house now, right??

“You said you wanted to get fucked by Ghostface, baby.” The voice returns, as does that natural purr, letting you know it’s Geto talking once more. “You never said how many…”

You slowly walk around your couch and shift your flashlight toward the blinds, trying to get a look outside your windows. “Are you serious? That sounds insane. How many of you are there?!” Your gaze flicks toward the nearby staircase and you only scare yourself as your eyes get lost in the darkness of your home.

Geto’s still talking, “Including me, there’s three of us. How does that sound, hm? I’m obviously not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to but, you do know who we all are.”

You swallow thickly. “Do I?” This time your words leave in a whisper and you swear you hear a shuffling coming from upstairs.

Lord knows you’re scared out of your mind right now. But, it is comforting to know that whatever this is, your boyfriend is in control of it all. You trust him more than anything, so there’s no real reason to be scared… right?

“Mhm. So how ‘bout we play a game?” Your boyfriend requests, and the sound of him smiling again is heard through his tone.

You stop walking entirely and your eyes are fixated upstairs as you flash your light up there. “Okay Jigsaw.” You snort, “What… What kind of game, huh?”

He sighs, almost sounding as though he were sitting back against something. “The one you and I were going to play. Y’know, you run around ‘n hide but if I find you, I fuck you. Let’s continue that but… with two others.”

“Suguru, you’re gonna let two other guys fuck me?” You’re beyond baffled by this whole thing. Never in a million years would you have expected this from your boyfriend. This is the same man who got mad a while ago for the way some guy who was all flirty with you at a restaurant…

Geto hums deeply, “S’long as you’re okay with it and they find you before I do, yeahh.”

“I didn’t know you were into that…” You reply, moving a hand to tug his shirt further down your body. Knowing that there was more than just him in the area right now made you a bit self-conscious.

“Didn’t know you were into masks but the Ghostface thing really does it for ya’, huh?” Suguru snaps back with that sass you know and love.

“I mean…” You shrug, “Yeah.”

“Right. So then, the game is simple. You try to hide and whoever finds you first; fucks you.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh, nooo. There’s more to this baby…” You swear you hear a creak upstairs—coming from somewhere down the left end of the hallway. It gives you the chills as Geto continues. “See, I know how loud you are when you cum so… tonight, I want you to be nice and quiet.”

You gulp, “What happens if I’m not?”

“Another one of us will find you.”

“Oh—“

“…And join in.” He steadily adds on with an amused smile on his face that you obviously can’t see right now.

Your heart races at the thought alone. “Oh.”

Just for extra consent, Geto tilts his head against the phone, “That alright with you?”

“Yes… but, wait do I still have to be quiet even if there ends up being two of you guys fucking me…?” You lean to the side a bit and aim your light toward the direction you heard the creak, spotting no one and no signs of life whatsoever.

“Yep.” Geto replies with a teasing pop of the ‘p’.

“But—“

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine. After all,” The voice changer clicks off and Suguru’s tone is nice and clear with you, “Y’know whose cock you’re supposed t’get loud on.”

You feel yourself throb at the sound of his voice without that stupid filter, puffing out a little sigh in reaction to his lewd words.

“Oh, and by the way…”

“Huh?”

The voice changer clicks on one last time and he chuckles. “They’re already in the house.”

——

Okay, you knew Halloween was one of Suguru’s favorite holidays but shit you didn’t expect him to go all out like this.

Not one, not two, but three Ghostfaces in your home searching for you right now? You’re lucky the house is big and there are plenty of places to hide but fuck is your anxiety through the goddamn roof as you sit in the empty tub of your first-floor bathroom. The door is shut but not locked and you’ve got the tub curtain pulled closed, just in case one of them does happen to stroll in.

Obviously, this wasn’t the best hiding spot in the world but you wanted them to eventually find you. You were scared in the beginning because of how unexpected this was but now you’re just as excited as you were when you first received that infamous phone call and recited all the lines with your boyfriend.

As soon as the call had ended, you clicked your flashlight off and snuck around in search of a hiding place—which is roughly how you ended up where you are now…

Now you’re left wondering who would find you first. Well, that and who the hell is under two of those masks. You suspect one of them is Gojo Satoru since that’s your boyfriend’s best friend but the other guy… you’re not too sure. Geto said you knew him but that still doesn’t help much.

Your boyfriend has a lot of friends that you know. Which one does he trust enough to let them have their way with you??

After maybe fifteen minutes of sitting in the tub, you start hearing someone outside the bathroom door. Footsteps shuffle by and you can tell the person went off into your kitchen. Then you hear the sounds of doors and cabinets opening, all of which make your breath hitch.

It’s so nerve-wracking and exciting waiting for someone to swing open the bathroom door. The footsteps soon pass it again and you let out the faintest sigh.

…Only to hear those steps halt not too far off from the door. Then, they turn and your body stiffens up entirely as each thump against the hardwood floor draws closer and closer to the door. You can’t see it because of the shower curtains but, there’s a shadow at the bathroom door.

Then you hear a small clinking sound, followed by a very soft… thump? Almost as if someone were leaning against the bathroom door to listen.

It was so scarily exciting that you had to move a hand over your mouth to keep yourself as silent as possible. After which, it’s all so very motionless.

There’s no sound, safe for someone walking around upstairs, and you just know someone’s outside the bathroom door right now. Your heart sinks into your ass the moment you hear that doorknob turning torturously slow until it’s lightly pushed open.

Then, there are but two soft steps taken inside and you don’t hear it but the door is closed behind whoever just entered.

They could be coming in to just use the bathroom… riiiight?

That’s extremely naive of you to think but a girl can only hope. Another step is taken deeper into the bathroom and that soft clinking sound you heard before is getting louder. It’s faint, almost like… jewelry or… necklaces slapping against one another gently. Jewelry… Necklaces… Which one of Geto’s friends do you know wears a lot of jewelry...? C’mon, think.

Necklaces… rings maybe… piercings—

The very second it clicks in your brain who this might be, you practically flinch right out of your skin as you spot a knife slowly moving to slide the bathtub curtain open. As the curtain is pulled open, you’re met with the tilted head of someone in a Ghostface costume.

Your eyes are all wide on them and you genuinely have no idea where on your body this guy is looking but the mask is actually quite scary when it’s all dark and neither of you is making any sudden movements.

His head slowly angles to the opposing direction, just like Ghostface often does in the movies, and you gulp loudly. The curtain is pinned to the wall by the knife in his hand and you think you’re sweating.

“Scared?” His voice is deep. Familiarly deep. It quickly confirms your suspicions of who’s face may be lying beneath that iconic mask.

With your eyes all frantic along what’s covering his face, noticing the bits of blood and cracks decorating it, you swallow thickly yet again. “Choso?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper and the air feels so heavy with tension.

His hand moves away from the wall and the knife, which you hope is fake, is placed on the edge of the tub with a soft tapping noise emitting into the still air. Then he takes that same hand and lifts it to pull his mask up to the right side of his face, revealing his expression to you as he crouches down to your eye level. You quickly feel your fear die off and it’s replaced with… something else as you study his face. There’s fake blood splattered on his skin, makeup extending the tattoo along the bridge of his nose, and piercings that stand out against his facial features.

“The tub, really?” He whispers to you, chuckling softly and flashing this kind smile at you that makes you feel overly warm inside. “S’this the best you could do? Y’know if I was a real killer you’d be dead right now, right?” Choso teases, all of his words kept in a low voice.

You roll your eyes and shift against the cold tub flooring, “I wouldn’t have hid in here if you guys were real killers, I’m not dumb.”

His lips curve into this sexy yet lazy smirk and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. You had a thing for Choso way back before you started dating Geto and it seems as though your body hasn’t forgotten why. “Yeahh?” Choso chastises with another tilt of his head, “Think you would be the final girl?”

Leaning forward a bit, you nod. “No, I know I would.”

Choso lets out a hum before biting his lower lip for a moment. Then, he lets it fall from in between his teeth and you think you’re in a trance. “Oh she’s cocky, huh?” He teases.

You smile at him and then push up to stand on your knees. Leaning all the way forward, you slowly reach for the knife and take it into your hands. Then you move to hold the tip of it right underneath his jaw and the sound of his breath hitching hits your ears just right.

You openly stare at his lips and watch the way his smirk slowly transcends into a full cocky smile. “Y’know that’s not fake, right?” Choso hushes out to you.

The knife is carefully caressing his skin as you trace it up slightly to his chin, “It’s not?” You ask innocently, placing your free hand on the edge of the tub and watching how he slowly moves to sit on his knees so that he’s looking up at you.

His face is all pretty from this angle, big brown doe-eyes batting up at you so softly, such a pretty face of dark innocence presented before you. Who’s really the ‘victim’ here—you or him?

“Nah,” Choso whispers, “That’s a real knife.”

“Why would you carry around a real knife?” You ask in an equally soft tone as your brows twist up in confusion.

He shrugs. “Honestly, I was gonna ask if you were into a bit of knife play…”

His words make your mind stray away from the situation at hand. Your imagination is quick to push out ideas and all sorts of scenarios that could have occurred with this knife of his had you not looked so scared when he first saw you…

“Are you?” The question in return makes Choso’s gaze flicker into something way more lustful than it was moments before.

He scoffs, “Am I? Why would I ask you about it if I wasn’t.”

“So… What, you wanna cut my clothes off of somethin’?” You ask carefully, steadily slipping the tip of the knife along his jawline.

Choso just barely nods his head in response.

“Y’know it’s funny you say that and yet you’re the one on your knees with a knife held up to your chin right now.” You point out with an all-knowing grin plastered all over your face.

Choso bites back a laugh. It’s cute that you think you have the upper hand here. “You and I both know that could easily change in a matter of seconds.” He claims.

And y’know, maybe it’s because you found yourself turned on by this whole game or maybe it’s simply because you wanted to fuck Choso but either way—you do not shy away from testing that theory. All you said was a simple ‘prove it’ and you found yourself in quite the position moments later.

It was one thing that Choso managed to easily gain a hold of the knife once more but it was another thing entirely that he was able to swiftly and quietly get you out of the tub and into his arms. All without even so much as grazing you with that sharp weapon too.

It was almost impressive, in all honesty.

Somewhere in the mix of all that, he ends up placing the knife down and soon has you sitting on the bathroom counter. Well, had you sitting on the bathroom counter—it quickly becomes a lot more than simply that.

Choso used that lil’ knife of his to cut down the center of your (Geto’s) shirt and was quick to have you all exposed to his overly greedy eyes. You were wearing nothing more than this lacy black set beneath that oversized shirt so it wasn’t much to get you unclothed.

One second he was cutting your shirt open and the next his lips were on yours. Then his pierced tongue was in your mouth and your arms were around his neck, tugging him closer to you and feeling his hard cock poking you through the thick layers of black clothes between you and him.

Which is exactly what led to the way you are currently.

Choso now has your legs spread wide open for him and his clothes are hardly even off, safe for the black cloak-like jacket that slipped off of his shoulders and the way his pants have been tugged down. He’s got on this black compression shirt and you spot the layered chains/necklaces hanging from around his throat that you heard earlier. Now leaning back slightly against the mirror behind you with your eyes set down between the two of you, you’re left watching the mean slap of Choso’s leaky cockhead against your clit.

“Cho,” You whispered out pleadingly. He’d been doing this for the longest—tapping his thick cock against your clit and then rubbing it from side to side against you, feeling the way you leak onto the counter below and hearing those faint whines escaping your throat.

Then he has the nerve to have the sluttiest expression on his half-revealed face, eyes all low-lidded and glued to your exposed pussy, bottom lip locked in between his teeth as he holds back his own breathy sounds of pleasure, and brows all tense as if he’s not the one torturing the two of you like this. “Shiiiit,” Choso rasps out, sliding his cock down slowly and pressing his fat tip against your weeping hole. “Suguru was right, this pussy is s’fuckin’ loud ‘n messy…” He breathes.

Your lips are all parted and all you can do is pant softly as he lifts his tip away and then slaps it against your cunt again, listening to the shlick tapping sound that comes from your sex.

Almost in a daze, he glides his cock up and down your wet folds, “Look at herrr,” Choso purrs, “All wet f’me. Can’t believe he’s lettin’ us fuck you.” His hips push forward a bit and you feel the way his heavy shaft glides against your cunt instead of inside like you so desperately want him to.

You have to suppress the needy whine that threatens to escape your throat, holding one hand slightly over your mouth. “Choso, please.” You whisper beneath your palm.

He pulls his hips back and angles his tip back down to your entrance, pushing forward ever so slightly and teasing that tight ring of muscle, not trying to really push himself into you at all. “What is it, princess?” Choso taunts, smirking as he lifts his eyes up to your face, “Want me to fuck you?”

You throb at his words, nodding as if a second longer would have you pronounced dead. “Please,” You whine, trying your best to wiggle your hips forward.

Choso leans forward and moves his lips right up your ear, his breath all warm and tickly against your skin. “Yeah? Y’want my cock inside you that badly?” He says with another faint push of his hips. Every word that leaves his lips has you dripping all over him.

It’s not until you move your hand away from your mouth and place it on the counter space behind you, and whisper, “Yes Choso, just put it all the way in already, I’m losing my fuckin’ m-mind…” Your last word leaves a little shaky due to the way he suddenly moves a hand over your lips.

Pressing his palm against your mouth, you grow confused until you look over to the bottom of the bathroom door and see a shadow moving by. Yet another Ghostface was nearby.

Choso, not yet wanting to ruin his alone time with you, presses his lips further against your ear, and his other hand grips your thigh tightly. “M’not ready t’share you yet so, be really fuckin’ quiet f’me, alright?” His warning confused you for half a second before you felt him roll his hips forward with a sharp snap at the end, stuffing you full with every hard inch of his cock in one go.

Your eyes tear up and your mouth hangs open under his hand, a strangled moan escaping your throat. Choso’s dick is so stupidly big, reminding you of your boyfriend in more ways than one. Unlike Geto though, Choso’s got this ruthless right curve and just drags against your sweet spot with every small movement he makes, the rest of his cock felt throbbing and twitching wildly against your sodden walls.

He lets out a choked grunt against your ear and you can feel him humping his cock deeper inside you with these small maddening little thrusts. “Does he even fuck you? S-Shiiit…” Choso lets his thoughts be vocalized against the crown of your ear and you only squeeze around his girthy shaft. “S’fuckin’ tight.. God-, fu-uck…” His voice has this pretty lil’ crack at the end that makes you soak his cock even more, sloppy juices leaking all out from where the two of you are connected.

Choso has to tug his hips back a bit and he completely forgets that he recently heard someone walking by the bathroom as he mindlessly thrusts right back into you. Your eyes meet the back of your skull and you groan into his palm. The wet gurgles and squelches from your pussy are what draws attention to the bathroom, if any.

Which is something you can’t even control, especially not with the way Choso goes from short grunts in your ear to moaning delightedly against your skin and fucking his thick cock into your sinfully warm cunt. Deep and almost passionate strokes are made into you and he can’t help but rid his hand from your mouth at some point. Moving it back to your thighs, he sprawls your legs out even wider so his cock can dig deeper into you.

With your jaw still hanging open, the sounds of him fucking you against the counter slowly grow louder and louder. You’re trying not to moan but it’s so hard with him—Choso knows how to use his cock all too well and his eyes are studying your face so he knows where exactly he should be thrusting. Just the slightest shift of his hips causes drool to leak from the corner of your lips and that makes him flash this fucked-out little smile.

Choso leans up closer and his body sandwiches against yours for a moment. You swear you can feel his angry cockhead prodding at your guts because fuck is he in there deep. Not to mention how orgasmic it is to feel him drag his pierced tongue against your chin, lapping up the mess of drool from your face before shoving the muscle into your mouth and forcing you to suck on it.

That leaves your moaning drowned out for a bit and Choso takes the opportunity to pound himself into you like a damn madman. Your legs quickly begin to feel like jello in his hands and you couldn’t even focus on sucking on his tongue anymore. Then, he pulls his mouth away, just barely, and the two of you are staring deep into each other’s eyes as his pace gets faster. His hips are so sharp against you and you can feel his weighty balls slapping against your ass with every mean and pronounced thrust.

Your breath mingles with one another and you’re both so fucked out that you don’t even realize you’re a lot louder now until you spot the bathroom door cracking open in your peripherals. It barely makes a sound as it’s pushed open slightly and all you see is yet another person wearing a Ghostface mask—the sight alone and the clear eye contact you make with them leading straight to your orgasm.

The second Ghostface stands motionless, doing nothing more than watching the blissful way your eyes lull to the back of your head and you release this sweet moan of Choso’s name. Choso, oblivious to being watched right now, is so close to emptying himself inside you.

“F-Fuck,” He huffs, tipping his head back and looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “So tight… I’m gonna c-cum if you keep squeezin’ me like that.” His voice fluctuates here and there but by the time your eyes roll back into place, the bathroom door is shut and that second Ghostface is now standing right behind Choso.

You flinch and Choso chokes out a grunt at how tightly you just clenched around his cock. The second Ghostface is slow to lift his mask up a bit, only revealing his mouth with this recognizable snake bite piercing that has your cunt gripping onto Choso even tighter. Then, the man leans to Choso’s ear and practically scares him into cumming inside you.

“What do we have here, hm?” Gojo whispers, making Choso’s hips stutter against you. He then reaches a gloved hand around Choso and your neglected clit is met with his thumb swatting over it, “Can’t believe you found her first. S’not fair…” Gojo hums softly with a slight pout.

You have this dumbfounded look all over your face and you may be fucked out of your mind but you swear Choso’s cock is almost harder inside you. The two of you curse in unison as Gojo rotates his thumb against your clit in a sensual circle motion, making you clench again and Choso rolls his gaze back—only the whites of his eyes visible to you.

“K-Keep rubbin’ her like that,” Choso pants with a soft moan. “She’s so fucking tight… I’m gonna die in here, s-shit.” He curses dramatically.

Gojo flicks his thumb upwards against your clit with a nasty trickle of your slick oozing out onto Choso’s cock. “You’re not gonna die, Cho,” He says in a chastising tone with a smile on his face, taking his free hand to pull his mask further up so that you can see his eyes.

You watch the way Gojo looks over Choso’s shoulder and stares at Choso’s lengthy cock disappearing in and out of your slobbering pussy. Gojo feels his own dick throb against his pants, pressing himself a bit closer to Choso and moving to talk into his ear. “I mean look at her,” Gojo directs, leading to Choso focusing his hazy gaze onto your face. “You’re already fucking her to tears, you’re not gonna die, heh. You’re fuckin’ her good.”

That last praise is what causes Choso to slump forward against you and roll his hips harshly against you—followed by which is a thick spurt of cum as he finishes inside you with a broken groan pouring from his lips. All as Gojo keeps his thumb on your clit, despite his hand getting squished in between you and Choso’s body.

Then Gojo smirks and leans in toward Choso again, “There ya’ go, good boy. Let it all out inside her. Jus’ like that…”

You don’t think you’ve ever been this… ruined before in your life. Watching Gojo tease and praise Choso like that while you were still being fucked and your clit was being stimulated led to you abruptly squirting. Choso’s cock slips right out of you and Gojo removes his hand just so that both of them could watch you let out that filthy lil’ stream.

Choso’s completely out of it as he watches your pussy spasm wildly. “Holy…” He whispers, hardly able to finish the rest of his statement.

Gojo clicks his tongue, “Suguru didn’t tell us you were a squirter. Or, has he never made you do that before?” He asks, slowly lifting his eyes up to your face.

You look like you’re about to pass out, your body all sweaty as you lean back against the mirror again and pant heavily. “He… hah, f-fuck, h-he has.” You squeak out softly.

Gojo hums before looking back down, allowing Choso to step (stumble) back slightly past him so he can catch his breath. Then, once Choso is completely out of the way and the space between your legs is left vacant—Gojo lets out an alarming chuckle.

He watches the way Choso’s cum dribbles out of your overstimulated cunt, glob after glob leaking out so prettily that Gojo can’t help but crouch down to get a closer look. Your eyes lazily follow his snowy head of hair and watch as his face is repositioned in between your spread legs. He moves his gloved thumb to your pussy lips and sloshes that mix of you and Choso’s cum around against you.

Then, Gojo flicks his gaze up to you and you gulp. He looks you dead in the eyes before spreading your lips further apart with his thumb and leaning forward. Your jaw drops in shock as Gojo cups his mouth against your pussy and suckles the mess from Choso into his mouth.

You whine, “S-Satoru—oh, w-wait,” You’re left gasping as you shoot a hand down to his hair and grip him tightly.

Gojo groans deeply and you feel his tongue lap against your saturated cunt leisurely. Moving up and down in a sloppy filthy manner, your legs are trembling while Gojo cleans you up casually.

Choso’s sitting on the nearby toilet seat now, batting his lashes at Gojos actions in shock. “Satoru you… you know I just—“

“Mhmm,” Gojo mumbles into your pussy, pulling his lips back just barely to allow a cool slap of air to hit you. Then, he swallows. “You both taste really,” Gojo leans back in to kiss your cunt, “Mmph… fuckin’ sweet.” He murmurs against you before slithering his tongue inside you.

Your back arches and your legs move to close around his head as your fingers tug desperately on his locks of hair. “S’toru,” You mumble, “Fuck. Please… mgh, n-needa’ break. I-I can’t—“

Gojo tilts his head and smiles into your honeyed slick, “Sweetheart,” He rasps against you, suckling on your taste for a moment longer before pulling off with a wet pop! “I jus’ got here ‘n you want a break from me already?” He says, pushing out his bottom lip to pout. “That’s so mean.”

Before you even get the chance to argue with that, he’s diving right back in and eating you out like a man staved. Sucking, licking, kissing, spitting—Gojo’s between your legs in some kind of trance as he drools all over his current meal. He’s such a messy eater too, his actions quickly leading to the lower half of his face being coated with remnants of you.

After a bit, Choso seems to have collected himself and he’s soon standing up. His pants have been hastily pulled up and you’re too lost in the overstimulation Gojo’s giving you to realize Choso is approaching you too. When your eyes lift, you see Choso with his Ghostface mask back over his face and his phone held in his right hand.

Cocking his head to the side, he looms closer to Gojo and sneaks a, now gloved, hand into his bright white tufts of hair, prying his mouth away from your cunt with a harsh tug. You watch with teary eyes as Choso holds his phone up to Gojo’s face, and hums out a low, “Smile.” With the voice changer turned on.

Gojo sparks a toothy grin and his expression is all high in pleasure. He looks faded out of his mind, simply off of eating you out alone. The flash from Choso’s phone lights up the bathroom and within the picture he just took, only your legs are visible dangling over Gojo’s shoulders. They’d just recreated that infamous photo you see around this time of year all over your socials. Usually, the victim would be laid out stomach first on the floor and Ghostface would tug their head up by their hair but, this definitely works too.

“Atta’ boy,” Choso praises after he’s taken the desired amount of pictures.

Gojo looks up to you and he’s pretty sure he can see little hearts in your eyes as you glance back and forth between him and Choso. “You don’t mind, do ya’? We wanna have somethin’ to remember this by,” He tells you.

You simply shake your head no and both of the men in front of you smile. Choso then nods his head a little before using his grasp on Gojo’s hair to shove him back down in between your legs—earning a surprised hum from your throat and a muffled groan from Gojo’s.

Despite the little Surprise, Gojo gets back to work with his mouth and you end up leaning forward a bit in surprise. Choso moves over to the side a bit and he feels you drop a hand to Gojo’s head to give him a light push away so he can ease up on you. In contrast to this, Choso steals your attention by wrapping a free hand of his around your throat. Your eyes shoot up to him and you’re met with the eyes of Ghostface since he’s got the mask back on.

Purposefully, he does that head tilt again. So slowly does it tip to the side as Gojo’s teeth graze your clit, causing you to let out a pleasureful yelp. “Fuck!” You gasp, to which Choso removes his hand from Gojo’s hair.

Creeping up along your body, Choso grabs a greedy handful of your breast before leaning in. “That was loud, princess. You’re gonna get us all caught,” He snickers to you.

Your bottom lip quivers and you think the sight of it makes Choso feel bad. He takes his hand off of your tits for just a second to pull his mask up and then returns his gasp. Both of you have the same idea in mind but it’s you that reaches for him this time, tugging him in so that his lips can meet yours again.

And then it’s just sloppy from there on out. Anyone with ears could walk past that bathroom, or anywhere down stairs for that matter, and hear the sliding of lips over one another followed by gurgled gasps and barely muffed goans. Choso’s making out with you while he plays with your tits in his hands and Gojo’s still lost in between your legs.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire and your head is beginning to spin from how good you feel everywhere. It only gets worse when the two start muttering praises out to you.

Dragging his lips down to your chest, Choso hushes out these elated whispers, “C’mon pretty girl, don’t tap out on us jus’ yet.”

Then there’s Gojo who moves to suck on your inner thigh. “Yeahh, don’t tap out. Let us make you feel good, baby.” He hums into your skin.

The counter beneath your ass is a slippery wet mess just like the bottom of Gojo's face and all the way down his neck with the way he let your juices trickle along his skin as he ate. All three of you get a little lost in the moment for quite some time. So much that you all seem to forget there’s supposed to be a third Ghostface.

Who, unknowingly, ends up silently opening the bathroom door and catching the way his two friends have his girlfriend all spread out ‘n ruined like some slut. Geto swore he almost came in his pants at the sight alone. You don’t seem to notice he’s standing there and you’re the only one facing him. His eyes are all over your wet expression, watching and listening to you moan two other guy’s names.

He didn’t even want to say anything. Geto just wanted to remain where he was and watch because lord knows if he joins in he won’t last longer than a few seconds. So, he does exactly that—going completely unnoticed there for a while.

Up until Gojo pulls his mouth off of you for a second. He looks up to see Choso decorating your chest in hot kisses and wet hickies, the two of you constantly making eye contact with one another before he moves his lips to yours again. Fuck just watching you two was hot. So hot that it makes Gojo wonder where the hell his best friend is at and why he’s missing out on all this.

Which is what leads to him turning around to glance back at the bathroom entrance, quickly spotting Geto standing there leaning against the door frame. Well, shit. It’s in that moment that Gojo realizes he sees the appeal in the whole Ghostface thing because fuck is his best friend just as hot as everything and everyone else in this damn room.

After Gojo, you’re the next person to realize your boyfriend is now present, and then Choso seconds later. Each of you have this face as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to but that little detail is irrelevant given how Geto could care less about how he was the last to find you. And sure, he may have watched you run into the bathroom earlier and could’ve gone in there to scare you a while ago but, watching Choso and Gojo eventually find you and then listening to them interact with you from outside the bathroom was far more entertaining.

—

So, one thing led to another and…

You find yourself laid out in your bed all over again, this time accompanied with three men. Geto was the first to get himself situated—seating himself not too far away from the bed and telling you to “put on a show for him”.

By this point, who were you to even question him? If Gojo and Choso were leading things before, they damn sure aren’t now because it’s you who’s ordering them around and letting them know where you want them. Starting with you on all fours, showing off that arch that Geto has had you perfect over the years. Then your legs part slowly and Gojo’s behind you in a trance as he watches you move a hand to spread your cunt open for him.

“You spoil us, sweetheart,” Gojo rasps in a low pitch, voice slightly hoarse from how long he’d gone without talking earlier.

You wanted to focus on him some more but a pair of fingers are placed on your chin and your face is quickly redirected to the second man of need. The moment your head turns, you’re met with Choso’s fat cockhead right in front of your face. Batting your lashes, you’re slow to look all the way up to him and see the way he’s smirking down at you.

“‘Could get off on that look alone, y’know.” Choso comments deeply in reference to your wide glossed over eyes and how close his tip is to your lips.

Gojo’s behind you frowning at the way Choso stole your attention yet again. In an attempt to, at least, have your mind on him once more, Gojo simply pushes his hips forward and eyes the sloppy part of your pussy spread against his pink tip. He hears it, Choso hears it, they all hear the way you gasp softly. It’s like they’re all hyper aware of every sound or slight movement you make.

Immediately after, your hips are wiggling back and Gojo’s quick to palm the fats of your ass. “Finally givin’ me some attention now, huh?” He quips.

You pull away from Choso’s touch just to look back at Gojo. “Suguru should’ve told you guys, I hate bein’ teased.” The way you force yourself back on him not even a second after that last word is leaving your lips has Gojo’s jaw falling and his fingers curling into your skin.

“W-Woah sweets, you could’ve warned me f-first…” He stammers, eyes dropping down to your greedy cunt swallowing up his lengthy inches of cock like it’s nothing. Gojo had to bite back a whine as he listened to the syrupy squelches that came with each backward push of your hips. “Fuuck, don’t stop. Give it t’me, baby.”

Gojo doesn’t even have to move yet and you’re already letting off a shaky moan, driving your hips back carefully and feeling him fill up every inch of your cunt. He’s all dazed while he watches his aching cock delve deep inside you, inch by inch—you take him like you were fuckin’ made for him.

The man is just dazed. He understands why Choso said he was gonna die earlier becuase fuckin’ hell he’s not even all the way in yet and you’re already clamping around his veiny shaft with no intention of ever letting go. And the goddamn arch you have, they way your ass looks all pretty backing up against him—

Gojo’s thrusting forward before he even realizes he is and his hands slide up to your hips to hold you nice ‘n steady. Your legs shake and your jaw mirrors his with the way it just hangs open. Then there’s your eyes and the way they roll back, a delicious moan exiting from deep within your throat.

He definately fucks you harder than Choso was earlier because you can feel his cock everywhere—he has you so stupidly full and dumb on his dick within seconds, landing a mean hand down onto your ass amid his thrusts.

“Ohh fuck, Suguru y’had this pussy all to yourself all this time?” Gojo grunts. “…S-Selfish bastard.”

Gojo’s hands are arguably slimmer than your boyfriends but his grip on you is just the same. Hence why you can’t do anything as he tugs you back to meet his rough pounding. Hell, all you’re left with is a brain full of nothing as your head turns to face forwards and you unconsciously look up at a stunned Choso.

His hand is wrapped around his cock and despite being right in front of your face, he’s definitely jerking off to they way Gojo’s fucking you (or maybe just to Gojo himself, who knows). When Choso does look down, you see his brows twist up and his lips part.

Your mouth is already hanging open so clearly you’re silently offering to help him, right? Which is why he angles himself toward your gape mouth and grunts, “Open up f’me pretty girl, nice ‘n wide…”

And you do, widening your mouth for him to slide his cock in steadily. Choso hisses at the sensation, the underside of his cock gliding down the center of your slobbering wet tongue so lewdly that it makes his teeth grind together. God, if you weren’t every bit of perfect like this. He watches the way his dick fills your mouth and feels how ridiculously tight your throat is as he eases his hips forward.

Almost in unison, Gojo and Choso and up tossing their heads back—one letting out a guttural groan and the other releasing a sweet moan. You’re soaked just about everywhere. Your pussy is sobbing and dripping around Gojo’s cock and your mouth is hardly any better with the way drool is dribbling down from your chin and onto the bed.

All as your boyfriend is losing his ever loving mind.

Geto came twice in his hand already and yet he’s still bucking his hips up into his fist. He’s never been this hard in his life. Something about watching you get absolutely ravaged by his two friends just make his dick throb in ways he cannot explain. You look perfect too, so damn angelic despite the rather sinful situation you’re in. There’s a creamy mess of cum slicked up and down Geto’s length from the thick tip to his base.

You’re busy getting fucked to tears (again) by Gojo and Choso, one of which has a heavy hand on your head encouraging your throat further around his curved cock and the other keep’s snapping his hips against your ass with his weighty balls grazing your clit every now and then.

You’re all so screwed. This is like something straight out of a damn porno and yet you didn’t care. Hell, you could hardly fathom enough thoughts at the moment to care.

And of course all three of them are just babbling all sorts of things to you, teasing you, taunting you, making you dizzy with pleasure.

Gojo’s back there spreading your ass apart and watching how wet you’ve gotten his dick, smiling sinfully at the sight. “Look at this pretty girl,” He grunts, “Takin’ my cock so. fucking. well. ungh.”

Then there’s Choso, nodding along as if he agrees with Gojo’s groaned words. His fingers are buried into your hair and by this point he’s fucking your face at the same rate Gojo’s fucking your cunt. “Her throat’s even better—shit. Y’should see how her lips look wrapped around me right now. Especially when I get,” Choso pauses just to give his hips one tortuously slow push, making you deepthroat his angry cockhead. “Right here, f-fuck.”

Again, Geto’s on the side just losing himself at the moment. You make the mistake of glancing over at him and his eyes lock with yours. Geto’s bottom lip is quivering and you watch his hand jerk himself off faster, his legs shifting open and closed as he overstimulates himself. Some nerve you had to look at him as if you don’t have two cocks inside you right now.

“M’gonna cum,” Geto’s muttering to himself over and over in some fucked-out little mantra.

Watching his head toss back and the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down is probably one of the sexiest sights. The Ghostface mask is all pulled up and his hair is splayed out in a mess of strands.

You end up gagging around Choso when Gojo hits your sweet spot for the sixth time in a row, your fingernails clawing against the sheets below. That’s all it takes for Choso to pull out and come undone all over your face without warning. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting your throat to tighten around him like that so suddenly…

Geto’s not too far behind, cumming in thick ropes with a sexy groan of your name leaving his lips—a sight you barely get to see because then Gojo’s leaning over you and your torso is suddenly pressed down against the bed for a moment. Then, you’re tugged up by a harsh grasp of your hair and Gojo’s fucking you even rougher than he was before, pressing his lips right against your ear.

“Fuckin’ slut,” He degrades so suddenly, wraping a free hand around your waist just to swat a finger over your clit again. “Look at this mess,” Oh, he’s just mean all of a sudden. Gojo lets go of your hair and turns your face toward him, leaning in and… licking the remnants of Choso’s release off of your face, again.

Your breath hitches and you wish you could have said something snarky but then you’re shoved right back down onto the bed. Gojo shifts his gaze to Choso, who flinches at the sudden eye contact, and then motions for him to come closer.

Once he does, Gojo grabs him by the jaw and pulls him in. “Open your mouth,” He breathes out hotly.

Choso bats his lashes at the man but doesn’t hesitate, parting his lips and taking the extra step as to sticking his tongue out. Gojo spits right onto the center of it and then smirks, “Good boy, now swallow it ‘n taste yourself f’me.”

It’s right about then that you release for the nth time of the night, followed by you squirting again due to the exchange you just heard between those two men. Then, as you wait for the stars in your vision to clear out, you hear Choso gulp loudly.

Half-way smiling to himself, Choso scoffs. “Guess you were right… I do taste pretty sweet.”

A/N: ty guys so much for 6k followers here btw!! much love, mwah.

#jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut

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