#gojo doesn’t let himself process things and

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ GOJO SATORU ; — i hate how you make feel while simultaneously being so incredibly unfeeling

࿄ ! warnings - afab!reader, angst, lowkey reader is a meanie but she has reasons, okay! no other warnings :}

love is fruitless with gojo satoru.

he’s attractive enough - shiny grey-blue eyes, tall, tan: the whole shebang and it’s no wonder that girls fall at his feet for a single chance to bed the man. and, in a twist of fate: when a lucky girl gets to have gojo in her room, she’s met with the night of her life before he slips into the night, inconsequential and cold to the world - as if he hadn’t ran his hands on her naked body.

that being said, once you get to know him, you come to realise it is virtually impossible to be around gojo without wanting to pull your hair out. you once told him that you couldn’t be around him without feeling the urge to pull out handfuls of your hair. he laughed at that; bandage crinkling across his eyes and rows of bright teeth blaring haughtily at you.

even at moments that would require some warmth and thought-provoking soul searching, he’d look at you with the same expression he always gives - one of faux joyousness and a chastising turn of his lips poking fun at you because you felt something that happened to be the antithesis to what he’s feeling… if gojo could actually feel anything at all - given how he presents himself. how could you ever enjoy the presence of someone like that?

“what do you think of gojo, y/n-san?” asks utahime across the chabudai and you snicker, the sourness noticeable even in the tone of your laughter - if you could even call it that - ‘laughing.’

“arrogant. egotistical. one track minded. sometimes i want to wring my hands around his neck to get him to be quiet but-” (utahime giggles slightly at your words and you beam a little - only a little).

“it’s not fair to speak about someone when they’re not here to defend themselves,” interjects a voice and you can practically hear the pout in his tone.

“who said i was being fair?” you hum, a sip of ginger and lemon tea running past your lips and it does little to satiate the rumble in your gut and the rise of acrid bile in your throat. damn you, acid reflux.

“well, if we’re being unfair to each other, i think utahime should ask me what i think about you,” says gojo pointedly and he sits cross legged at the low table - raising what seems to be a brow under his many layers of bandages.

“for your information, we were not playing a game-”

“no, you can go on and ask him, utahime. i’m a big girl. i can take it.” you narrow your eyes at the white haired man when you say that and it’s somewhat laughable that even though he’s sat down, at your level, gojo is ridiculously too statuesque to look right at you - prompting what you can feel is a fiery blush erupt on your cheeks when he leans down. you want to kill him so badly. just who does he think he is?

“um… o-ok, if that’s alright with you then… what do you think of y/n, gojo?”

a beat passes and you hold down a swallow, a gulp, at the silence that ruminates the staff room. gojo looks away, as if in deep thought and you roll your eyes at the over the top act.

the man leans down again, elbows on the chabudai, “i think y/n is afraid. constantly running from anything that invokes even the slightest bit of fear and feeling in her bones,” and utahime chokes in disbelief, shaking the palpable heavy tension in the room.

“i don’t think i’ve ever met a jujutsu sorcerer with traits as undesirable as those- i mean, have you, utahime? talk about a red herring.”

another beat passes and you haven’t said a word; if the furrowing of your eyebrows and embittered scowl on your lips was anything short of an answer, though, then gojo had definitely hit a nerve.

unfortunately for utahime, if gojo goes low, you simply go lower.

“huh. maybe you think you’re right about me, gojo…” and he smirks, victorious in this little dance that you’re both caught up in - with utahime caught in the superfluous torrent of it all and you let a moment pass, you let gojo believe he’s won before you continue, “but it actually couldn’t be further from the truth. at least i’m deliberate about what i let others perceive about me. you want to know what i really think of gojo satoru? i think ‘how can someone as powerful and omnipotent as you be so unimaginative… so boring and so miserably orchestrated?’”

you look down at your hands, playing with the rings on your fingers and wanting to avoid the looks of the other two heads in the room, shaking in belligerent disgust and just second hand audacity.

“above all, though… gojo satoru is all too obvious yet not at the same time. it becomes neither cool or interesting when you pretend to be some suave and sexy man who strolls through life. no one knows gojo better than he knows himself and he knows that every night, when the capes and the glasses and the- the fucking bandages come off, all what stares back at him is what he attempts to hide and that’s when he really starts to feel. in the four walls of his empty room with empty eyes staring back.”

you finally look back up to see a pair of disbelieving eyes staring back at you and you can feel another boring into your soul. the bile sits at the back of your throat again and a pang knocks at the edge of your heart.

“i may be scared but you’re terrified and you go about your life like you’re not constantly thinking - worrying. if my problem is that i don’t let myself feel enough then, gojo, yours is that you pretend to feel and act superior to us normal people because you’re a fraud.”

you’re panting - breathless - by the end of it and your eyes widen, burning and brimming at the implication of what you’ve just said. your hands are clammy and the burning - the sourness starts to grow all over again. you can’t bear to look at gojo for even a second before stumbling from under the seat and storming out of the room.

consequently, that evening after the whole debacle, with gojo sporting a frown that didn’t curl up once even in the company of his students, does gojo let himself feel something. and it feels pretty damn good.

he just wishes that it hadn’t come from you of all people.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[ieirism]

intertwined. | preview

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

setting: omegaverse!au, university!au

genre: angst, smut, some fluff

contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so he’s kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo

summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested

-

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Satoru’s cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.

“We never have to talk again afterwards,” you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. “This is just gonna be a one-time thing.”

Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.

“Just a one-time thing,” he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you would’ve noticed Satoru’s gaze wander—only to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neck’s scent gland. You would’ve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.

“Well then,” he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.

He’s so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.”

You’ve heard stories about what he’s like in bed; it’s inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, he’s gotten around. You don’t expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. You’re waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. You’ve prepared yourself for that.

Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. “Been waitin’ so long for this.” His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.

You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re not here to play romance with Satoru—yet, the slow gentle kisses he’s giving you and the gentleness with which he’s holding you are cutting it too close.

“W-Wait,” you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. “What are y—“ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.

“You smell so fuckin’ good…” His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You can’t even pay much attention to that, though, not when—

“Y-You do, too…” The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.

“You’re gonna kill me.” You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you don’t have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.

“N-Not there,” you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.

He’s close, too close—you’re terrified of what he’s capable of, only because you don’t know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. You’re slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingers—you’ve never felt so weak.

You hate how he makes you feel. You’ve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. You’re nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alpha’s obedient mate. You’ve fought back, resisted, protested—yet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.

This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred… with longing.

Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. “Right.” Satoru’s lips quirk into a crooked grin. “This is just a one-time thing, huh?”

You recognize that smile.

It’s the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mama’s favorite vase and blamed the cat. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.

He’s lying.

Far too late, you realize you’d made a big mistake.

-

author’s note: i can’t even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever get around to writing a full fic because i’ve been planning this in my head for weeks and there’s so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(

if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.

thank you for reading this far :)

[egglain]

Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)

incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna

summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet… most of the time. AKA: how the jjk men comfort you

a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just… can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles 🫶

Nanami

Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.

Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.

He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.

He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.

He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.

If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.

“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”

Choso

Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.

But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.

He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.

But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.

And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.

“So sorry—“

He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.

“How do I make it stop?”

His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.

You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.

Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.

Toji

Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.

Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”

It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.

That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.

No, he’s developed a plan.

At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.

He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.

Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.

“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”

Gojo

Gojo’s a little… misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.

He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.

When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.

Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.

Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.

He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.

While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.

He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.

You are the strongest together, after all.

Geto

Suguru is a problem-solver.

He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.

“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”

He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.

Understands.

The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.

But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.

And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crêpes with the girls.

Sukuna

The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.

Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.

But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.

He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.

“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”

Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.

He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.

When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.

He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.

[soleilapproves]

Gojo is your insufferable boss who is also in love with you.

Note: female bodied reader, reader is referred to as princess at one point, angst to fluff, they argue in the end but all is well. This is NOT proof read so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. I’m still in the process of editing it.

Word count: 2.8k

-•-

Click clack

Click clack

Gojo was counting down the steps of your echoing heels from the other end of the corridor. His heart stirred as he took in your attire- pencil skirt, crisp blouse without a single crease, and a simple smart watch adorning your wrist. In your hand, you were holding your bag for the day and Gojo’s iPad that you used to organize his plans.

His smile grew as you approached closer. He knew that crushing on his assistant was unethical, but could he really help himself? The way your tone changed when you’d find out about him skipping important meetings just made you seem more irresistible to him. It didn’t help that you had the kind of beauty that was seen born once every century (in his humble opinion).

It was obvious that Gojo had a thing for people that commanded attention and authority. Except you didn’t see yourself as that kind of person.

“Good morning, dear.” The cheeky CEO was grateful to be wearing shades in doors because who knows what you would’ve said if you found out that he was checking out how your breasts looked in that blouse. “Good morning, sir.” He inwardly groaned at the term. You oblivious that you were undeniably attractive to this man.

The entire day he would only stare at you. During meetings with potential investors, he’d ask for your opinion out of the blue, catching you and the the attendees by surprise. It was said behind closed doors that you were the true head of the company as Gojo always asked you first before making any important decisions. It irked many of his clients but they knew the man grew up spoilt.

It angered female employees to see that you were getting special attention from him. You even had your own coffee machine by your desk because he didn’t want you to go all the way to the employee break room. He would even send his chauffeur to pick you up if you called in about the train being too late. Of course, he’d be in the car too. He doesn’t want you alone with any man for too long.

However, there were negative aspects of receiving his undivided attention too. He’d make you stay late at the office for extra paperwork, so you would both end up working together and even sleeping on the employee couches at times. He would always call you at lunch time to eat and work with him, often letting your homemade lunch go to waste. And last but not least, he would make you work with him during all his recreational and wellness retreats because he couldn’t stay in the office for longer than a week.

You were exhausted and you wanted to quit to pursue your long term goal of starting your own small business. As gorgeous as he was to look at, he was a chore to work for. All you needed was an excuse.

Unfortunately, you had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

Which is why you were surprised when he asked you out on a date. And he was even more surprised when you declined.

“Why not, princess?” It was 12 am and this man was on your doorstep, drunk and on his knees. He had discarded his usual suit jacket and his shirt had two buttons unbuttoned from the top. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was a mess, almost like he had been running his hands through them all night. He looked like the definition of a drunkard.

“For one, sir, you are my boss and second, you are drunk. It is obvious that you are not well.” You had taken care of him when he was drunk before but it mainly involved dropping him off at this apartment after he had one too many drinks at a hotel bar. Never a situation where he would come to your place by himself.

“Then I’m firing you.” He slurred, eyes glossy from the tears of rejection.

“Sir, please, this is after work hours and I would like to sleep on time for at least one night. I don’t know how you got here, but I’m calling your chauffeur.”

“No! Don’t call Ijichi! Just give me 5 minutes and I’ll leave. I need to tell you how I feel.”

You sigh and nod. Your patience was running out but you decided to listen to the poor man. He stood up (still slightly wobbly), rested one arm against your door frame and leaned in dangerously close to your face to the point where you could smell the Pinot noir on him.

“From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were going to be my wife. I knew I couldn’t let you go.” His glossy eyes bore into yours as his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell he was feeling particularly rough today.

“You know what kind of a man I am. I have no discipline. I’m rash. I’m a flirt. But you-“ he lifted his finger and pointed it right above your chest.

-you straighten me up. I felt like a fucking loser. I had no direction but when I’m with you, I feel like I have nothing to lose.” Your seething anger was replaced with curiosity. Why was he having all these feelings for you out of all people?

“You have no idea how much I like you. I’ve had to pinch myself to not kiss you when you tell me to take my meds on time.” Your eyes widened at his words.

“I’ll make you happy I promise.” He whined as he toppled on to you. His legs had finally given out. You huffed and puffed as you dragged the 6 foot something man to your couch. After sending a quick text to Ijichi, you handed him a glass of water. “Ijichi will be here soon, sir.”

“No, no, no, don’t do this to me. Let me finish!” He began whining again. You sighed as you sat next to him. He took that as a sign and leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn’t have the energy to complain so you let him stay there. “You’re one of the only people who is honest with me. Everyone tells me what I want to hear but you tell me what I need to hear. Thank you.” You could hear him slur a few more confessions before he fell asleep.

You couldn’t help but think about how lonely it must have been to live life like that. To rely on your assistant because no one else seem trustworthy.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that Gojo didn’t provide you with any sense of companionship. But at the end of the day, he was your boss and you were just an employee. It was wrong and unethical.

So why are you letting him sleep on your shoulder?

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out to scratch his head. His hair feels softer than it looks (courtesy of all the hair treatments he invests in. You would know since you’re the one who schedules them). His arms suddenly wrap around you and you’re stuck in one position.

As wrong as it was, it felt like the two of you were destined to be this close to one another. The warmth his body gave you was like any other and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his muscular arms fit around you.

“Just tonight.” You whispered to yourself, hoping that Ijichi would take his sweet time driving to your place.

-

The next day at work was the same as usual. You walked in, greeted Gojo, gave him his hangover medicine, he thanked you as he downed another large cup of coffee, told him about his plans for the day and you went back to your desk.

However, there was a certain shift in Gojo’s energy. He wasn’t directly looking at your face nor was he making the same flirty remarks he usually made. You had a feeling that Ijichi might have filled him in on the details from the previous night (you didn’t tell the man about Gojo confessing to you so you were hoping that Gojo himself didn’t remember anything).

And lucky for you, for the first time in a while, he hadn’t forced you to work during lunch. It was the perfect time to hand in your two weeks notice. He was away on some personal business and wouldn’t return until a couple hours later so you emailed him your resignation.

You walked into his office and left a white envelope.

An hour later, you could see all your colleagues rush into their work spaces. There was still half an hour left before lunch ended. “What’s going on?” You asked Ino Takuma from Logistics. “Gojo’s mad. I don’t know why but everyone’s scared because nobody has ever seen him like this.”

You had a feeling that it was because of you. A few minutes later, you could hear him stomp through the hallway toward your office. You immediately stood up and bowed to greet him.

“Good afternoon, si-“

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His tone was sharp and his voice was deeper than usual.

“One minute I’m getting a suit fitted and the next I find out that you don’t want to work for me?” He sounded betrayed. You almost felt bad what you were doing but you knew you couldn’t handle the mental stress of working for him.

He grabbed your arm and dragged you to his office. Usually you’d be standing across his desk but he stood you in front of the panoramic window. “Look, I’m sorry for last night, that was wrong of me. Hell, I’ll never drink again. I might’ve accidentally told your address to the taxi driver because Ijichi picks you up all the time but I swear it won’t happen again.”

You inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t remember.

“Do I not pay you enough?”

“It’s not that, sir.”

He started pacing around the office now.

“Are you getting married?”

“I don’t have the time to date, let alone get engaged.”

“I see, I see. Loan sharks after you? I can pay them off for you.”

“Sir, it is none of the reasons you have stated. It’s personal and I would like to start with the hiring process for your next assistant as soon as possible.”

“But why?! What’s so bad about me that you want to quit?” He whined and you were reminded of the previous night’s events.

“I don’t have enough time for myself because of this job. I’d like a break from the work force.” You reluctantly answer him. You knew he would keep pressing until you nudged so you decided to give him what he wanted anyway. His spoilt nature won again.

“I can just hire a second assistant, take all the vacation days you need and just come back to work.”

“Sir, that would be unfair and unethical.”

“You don’t get it, you’re the best I’ve ever had.” He said as he walked towards you. “I don’t think I’ll find anyone like you again.” For moment, it felt like he was saying what was in his heart. His big blue eyes were tantalizing to stare at. You could clearly see his pupils dilate. How could you not realize that he wanted you sooner?

However, you couldn’t let your heart tremble at his unintentional seduction so you used your most professional voice. “There are many dedicated individuals out there. And I’m sure I’ll find someone even more capable.” You smiled.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to compile a list of potential assistants.” You said as you walked past Gojo. His heart sunk as he saw you leave his office. He was going to find a way to keep you whether you liked it or not.

He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed the number of his best friend/lawyer.

“Gojo, you son of a bitch, wouldn’t you be able to date her if she resigned?” Gojo’s lawyer, Geto Suguru, said through the phone. The man had decided to use the law to keep you with him. “Yeah but, now is the easiest time for me to show her that I can take care of her! Find a way!” The lawyer groaned and hung up. He could only take so much of Gojo’s tantrums.

Gojo decided on the next best thing to dig deeper into the exact reason why you didn’t want to stay with him.

He walked out of his office and called you out. You got up in your seat and bowed to him. “You’re staying late today.” He commanded and went back into his office.

Great. Overtime.

-

You were sitting with your laptop on one of the couches in Gojo’s office while he was signing a few papers on his desk. You groaned because your back hurt from sitting in an uncomfortable position for hours on end.

“Get used to it. It’s gonna be like this for two weeks. I’m behind on a new acquisition.”

You ignored him. You had two weeks left till ultimate freedom so you didn’t want to sour your mood by clapping back.

A few minutes later, an agitated Gojo walked towards you and stood right in front of you, commanding attention. He was almost like a child when he wanted something. “Your boss is standing in front of you and you’re choosing to ignore him?”

“I’m doing what my boss wants me to do- work.” You failed at clapping back. So much for being at peace.

His hand pulled your laptop away and he put it on his desk. To say that you were annoyed was an understatement. You were sleep deprived, hungry, dehydrated, and in pain and this man wasn’t letting you cater to any of it.

He plopped himself next to you and folded his arms. Staring at you. You stared back at him. This moment felt like deja vu, reminding you of the night before.

“What are you gonna do once you leave the company?”

“Do you really care?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to start my own business. I have a lot of ideas but first I’m gonna look for space to rent.”

He chuckled to himself.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because, my dear assistant, I own more than half the commercial spaces in this city. You will eventually be working for me anyway.”

Of course he did. Being such an influential man came with the perks of having so many properties. You were bound to run into him and you forgot to factor that in. And unfortunately enough, you didn’t have enough funds to move to another city.

You stood up. “I think I need some water.” But before you could leave Gojo’s office, he stood up and pinned your arms against a wall.

“Quit playing games with me, Y/N.” His hands moved down to your wrists and held them firmly. “You’re unbelievable. You’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?” You asked him.

“Darling, I know you want me too. I didn’t forget what happened last night. The way your hands moved against my hair said a lot.” His usual smirk was gone and he looked serious.

You couldn’t believe he manipulated you. Oh who were you kidding? You should’ve seen it coming.

“You’re an insufferable man. You’re spoilt, conniving, scheming, obsessive and-“ you couldn’t go on because Gojo planted his lips against yours.

At first you were angry. How could this man just shut you up with a kiss but a second later your body began reasoning with you as you leaned into him.

“And somehow you put up with this spoilt man, didn’t you? Working for him for years and seducing him so easily.” He whispered against your lips. You could only look away but he was quick to find your lips again, this time, taking his sweet time to enjoy the feeling. His mouth worked slowly against yours as he swallowed your moans. His tongue licked your bottom lip and he used his thumb to pull down your chin so he could explore your mouth.

His other hand went around your waist, pressing you further into him.

Your hands move from his chest to grab his face to pull away.

“This still doesn’t mean that I’m going to keep working as your assistant.” You breathe out.

“Works for me, no code of conduct violated.” He said as he stared down at your swollen lips. His ego swelled because he knew that he was the reason behind it.

You were starting to look forward to overtime.

-•-

Idk what I did with the ending 🗿

P.S. you cannot tell me this clip doesn’t scream Gojo

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 56 || The Official End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & semi-angst.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ This is the last chapter.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AS FOR THE MAN WHO lost in the game of winning your heart, Gojo Satoru patiently waited day by day for that fateful phone call of yours. He wasn’t sure when it would be but he knew you’d call sooner or later.

The journal had to be burned. He needed to make sure it was, promising to himself that burning it would be burning the horrid things he put you through. It’d be the death of something so very toxic and would leave the two of you truly free from the list. That, and Gojo saw burning the list with you as his way of finally letting you go.

So, patiently, he waited. Every day he’d check his phone to see if your contact name would appear across his screen, his heart aching for the inevitable. Gojo was lost in a space of wanting that day to come as soon as possible and also wanting you to take your time to get to that point.

At the end of the day, burning the journal was your way of letting him go too. You needed to burn it with him just as much as he needed to burn it with you. Whatever it was that still floated in the air between the two of you needed to die along with the cursed words written upon those pages in your journal.

If not, other things, such as your relationship with your boyfriend Choso would soon crumble if truths he never wanted to know were revealed to him.

So yes, the end was near— closer than anticipated, and only you and Gojo knew that.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Which is exactly why you took your sweet time in calling him.

Not days and not weeks did you wait but two months. From the day you started dating Choso, you tried to put all thoughts of Gojo in the back of your head, only ever thinking about him whenever you remembered you had a book to burn.

Sometimes you’d look at your phone and debate on calling him to plan the whole burning process out but ultimately, the sound of your boyfriend saying something would pull you away from those thoughts.

A perfect example would be currently as you stood in Choso’s apartment on a Sunday morning in his kitchen, attempting to prepare some kind of breakfast as he slept in his bedroom. The two-month mark of your relationship with him was nearing and things couldn’t be better.

If you weren’t able to see him throughout the week because of school, either of you always found a way to be with each other by the weekend. Most times it was at his place since you had a roommate and by now, you’d practically moved in with the man.

Not that he minded of course. What better to wake up to than you in his arms? Or what could top noticing your feminine products begin to take permanent place in his bathroom? Then there was the occasional time he’d find your clothes with his as he went to do laundry.

He loved every moment he realized you were starting to take over his apartment day by day.

So today, when he gets a strong waft of pancakes swirling into his nose, he wakes up smiling because he knows it’s you in his kitchen. Choso’s eyes cracked open and he let out a heavy yawn, his arms and legs stretching out as he woke himself up some more. Despite knowing you were in the kitchen, he did prefer waking up to your body heat against his and you pressed into him.

He doesn’t know if you’re aware but you’re more clingy than he is when you’re asleep. Throughout the night, Choso would sometimes wake up to drink a bottle of water but the very second he shifts away from you, you’re tugging him back and grumbling something in your sleep with this cute little pout on your face.

God, Choso was so in love with you. Everything you did made his heart race. Every laugh shared, every lingering touch, every joyful glint in your eyes— you were the embodiment of perfection in his eyes. Never would he view a woman in the same light he views you. And to think you’re his girlfriend? What did he do to deserve you?

These are the kinda’ thoughts he has nearly every morning, today more so than others. Because just why are you out in the kitchen humming to You Rock My World by Micheal Jackson and cooking up a storm of breakfast with not a care in the world?

Choso’s getting out of bed without a second thought, rushing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and cleanse his face before heading out to you. As he walked down his hallway, the sound of music grew louder and louder until he was near his kitchen.

Then there was you. Oh the sigh of joy he lets out at the sight of you is so lovestruck. Your back was to him and you had a spatula in your hand, clearly making eggs as your hips swayed from side to side along with the music playing and sweet little hums left your lips along with the tune.

Choso couldn’t help but smile, wondering if you knew that you really did rock his world just as the song was saying. His head is nodding along to the music before he realizes and he begins to smoothly make his way over to you.

You’re so wrapped up in your cooking and vibing to the music that you don’t even realize Choso is approaching until his hands slide onto your waist. You inhale sharply in reaction, jumping only a little in shock before you turn your head back to look at him.

“Mornin’ baby,” Choso hums with a happy little smile on his face. His morning voice gives you butterflies and you flash him a smile before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

“Mh, Good morning, Cho,” You reply, “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet y’know…” You say suddenly as you turn back to the eggs you had cooking on the stove, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Choso chuckles and he’s behind you dancing slightly to the sound of Micheal Jackson’s voice, “Should’ve closed the room door then,” He responds, “I’m a simple man y’know— I smell pancakes, I come running.”

You giggle at his words and feel his hands slide down to your hips as the two of you sway slightly against one another. He starts humming to the song and seems to be enjoying himself as he dances against you and watches you finish your breakfast preparation.

An intrusive thought comes to him and he’s speaking before he thinks it through, “Y’know, you’d make a good housewife baby,” Choso says suddenly.

You begin to plate all the food you’ve cooked and raise a brow at his words, “Would I really?”

“Yeah-, sorry, is that weird to say?” He asks curiously, tilting his head a bit before sneaking up a piece of bacon into his mouth.

You send him a look because of him eating despite you not being finished and then roll your eyes at him teasingly, “No, it’s not a weird thing to say. But y’know, in order for me to be a housewife I’d want two things,” You claim before stepping back a little to reach into one of the drawers for utensils. 

Choso hums, “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“One,” You turn to him with a telling look, “A ring on my finger,” You explain.

He nods with a smile on his face, “Obviously. And two?”

“A man who’ll do everything I don’t,” You say vaguely, “Y’know, like pay for whatever I may need since I wouldn’t have a job, and basically-“

“Take care of you?” He interrupts unintentionally, “So for you to be a housewife, you needa’ man to take care of ya’?”

You shake your head, “Not need, Choso, want.” You correct, “I could easily provide for myself and just get a job but,” You find the utensils you were looking for and place them with the plates of food before turning back to look at your boyfriend, “If a certain someone wants to make me a housewife, he better come with those two things.”

The man laughs at your words and then throws his hands up defensively, “Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to make you a housewife. I want you to do whatever makes you happy.” He explains, shrugging a little, “And I was jus’ pointing it out that you’d be a good housewife,” Choso leans a little closer to you, “If that’s what you choose to be.”

“Uhuh,” You hum casually before slipping away from Choso’s grasp with two plates in your hands, “Well, isn’t it too early to talk about that kinda’ thing anyway?” You ask as you place both plates down on the coffee table in the closeby living room.

Choso’s over in his fridge now, swiping up something to drink for the both of you, “Mmmmh, too early to talk about marriage?”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “It’s only been a month, so-“

“Two months baby, this Friday it’ll be two months,” Choso corrects as he exits the fridge with your favorite drink in hand, “And it’s never too early to talk about marriage— that’s what people date for, no?”

“I mean, yes but…” You shrug, “I dunno…”

Choso quirks a curious brow and starts to walk over to you while you’re moving used dishes into the sink. He stops you from moving by wrapping his arms around your waist and popping his head over your shoulder.

“Baby, are you dating me for some other reason?” He asks.

You blink, “Hm? What do you mean?”

“I mean like… Y’know I’m dating you to hopefully marry you one day, right?” Choso questions.

“Oh, well… I just don’t really think about marriage, Cho.” You explain with a sheepish shrug, “I’m dating you because I fell in love with you,” Turning your head to look up at him, “Is that okay Mr. Kamo?”

Choso smiles, “Yeah that’s jus’ fine, Mrs. Kamo,” He murmurs playfully.

Your entire face flushes in heat and your eyes widen, “Ohh, do nottt call me that.”

Your boyfriend smiles, “Why? Should I be calling some other woman ‘Mrs. Kamo’?”

“Well, no,” You answer, brows tensing and lips poking out to a pout.

“Alright then, if you’re gonna call me mister anything then I’m gonna call you the accompanying missus,” Choso tells you cheerfully.

You stare for a moment and his smile deepens before you roll your eyes and look away, “Whatever, Choso.”

“Ohhh, now it’s back to Choso?” He taunts, moving to your ear, “I kinda’ liked Mr. Kamo, y’know.”

“Did you?” You ask in return, smiling a little.

“Mhm,” Choso hums, “But you can only call me that if you let me call you Mrs. Kamo,” He tells you.

You giggle, “I dunno if I’ll let you call me that but it does have a nice ring to it…”

Oh his heart swells at those words, his smile getting impossibly wider as he gushes, “Yeah? Y’like the sound of that title?”

You nod a little, “Mhm, it’s cute, I guess…”

“Ohhh baby don’t tease me like thatttt,” Choso whines, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and starting to kiss you, “Either you like the sound of my last name being yours or you don’t…”

You chuckle at both his words and the way he starts kissing your neck so sweetly, lips locking with the area that always makes you squirm in his grasp, “I do like the sound of it, Cho-, love it, but,” You suddenly turn around to him and he pulls his head away from his neck, “It’s too soon to be talkin’ about this kinda thing.”

“It’s not,” He shrugs, “I didn’t say hey let’s get married tomorrow or in a few weeks,” Choso explains through a chuckle, “I just said that I’m dating you to eventually do so. That could be years from now but I do want you to know I’m thinkin’ about it from time to time.”

You stare up into those pretty brown eyes of his, your hands rising to his face and moving to squish his cheeks, “Right, so is this your form of reassurance?”

“Mhm, I love you so much, princess and I hope to get down on one knee and propose to you one day in the future when we’re both ready,” Choso proclaims.

The smile that spreads across your face only deepens that loving emotion Choso has for you. “Aww, how romantic.”

He pouts, “S’that all I get in response?” Choso mumbles tauntingly.

You scoff, “Oh yeah you’re pretty great too.”

“Baby,” He frowns.

With a roll of your eyes and a giggle, your arms wrap around his neck and you lean closer to him, “I love you even more, Choso.” You say before kissing the tip of his nose, “You’re my happiness, my reason to smile, my peace,” Your lips move to his cheek and then they ghost his lips, “My everything. I hope we stay happy and get married one day too.”

His face is red as if he didn’t just request that you say all that to him. Swallowing hard, “Much better,” Choso teases.

“Shut up,” You snicker before kissing him.

It’s a passionate one with Choso leaning into you and his arms holding you tightly as your lips slide over one another, your tongue soon pushing into his mouth and earning a hum from him. Choso’s lips twitch into a half-smile mid-kiss and he steps forward with you, causing your lower back to hit the counter.

His tongue slips over yours and he maneuvers his way into your mouth, one of his hands sliding down to smack and then grab your ass, the contact making you jump.

“Choso-,” You gasp in between his lips, “Food’s gonna get cold,” You mumble against him.

Choso’s hand squeezes your ass and he tilts his head, slightly ignoring what you just said and kissing you more aggressively. You unintentionally moan when both his hands grab your ass and he smacks it yet again, clearly having a thing for playing with your ass.

“Cho,” You whine against him.

He pulls away from your mouth with a bit of saliva sticking to his lips, “Hm? Yes baby?”

“Our food is gonna get cold,” You whisper.

Choso nods, “I know but, we can warm it back up,” He says before suddenly dipping down and then lifting you up onto the counter.

You shake your head, “Nope, we’re not doing this again.”

“Not doing whattttt?” Choso drags out innocently as he parts your legs so that he can stand in between them.

“You can’t keep eating me out and calling it breakfast Choso,” You say sternly, referring to the past few occurrences this has happened with him, “I made you real food for a reason.”

Your boyfriend laughs and tips his head to the side, “Is your pussy not real food?”

“No, dummy, it’s not,” You tell him, tone playful.

Choso rolls his eyes, “Fills me up perfectly fine tho’,” His hands slide down to your outer thighs and he drops to kiss your neck again, “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“But I made you breakfast and if you don’t eat it I’ll be sad,” You murmur to the man, your words making him freeze all movement.

Slowly, Choso lifts his head from your neck and his eyes meet yours, “Seriously?” He asks curiously, a hint of worry in his voice.

You nod, “I told you I wanted to surprise you…”

Choso nods his head understandingly, “Alright, alright, my bad baby, I’ll eat you out some other time then. Let’s go have breakfast together like you wanted to, yeah?”

A cute smile grows on your face and the worry he had instantly fades. He carefully pulls you off the counter and gives your forehead one last kiss before you take his hand and drag him over to his living room.

There was some show the two of you had recently been watching together so you wanted to do that as you ate. Quickly seating yourselves and putting it on to enjoy a cute little breakfast together.

It was wonderful. Such a nice couple's moment shared with one another that would forever live inside your head. With a bunch of laughter and silly little comments shared between each other, you and Choso spent a great day together.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Sometime later throughout the week, there was this feeling you got in your heart— a feeling as though there were doors still open that needed to be shut.

The doors in question were ones that led to halls of feelings and memories with Gojo Satoru. 

This all spurred on Tuesday when you were cleaning your bedroom and came across that locked drawer of yours, the journal lying idly inside. Choso was lying on your bed, taking goofy pictures of himself on your phone and not paying attention to what you were doing at all.

If you were going to see Gojo again, you should tell your boyfriend, right?

Turning to him, you see him messing with the point five option on your camera and you laugh at him, earning his flustered gaze of being caught as he tossed your phone down.

“You didn’t see that, right?” Choso mumbles to you.

You’re snickering, “I did. You’re so unserious and I love it.”

He flops his head down into your pillows and groans, “Well my girlfriend’s not showing me any attention so I had to distract myself with something.”

“Oh? Is my boyfriend feeling needy for me now?” You say suggestively.

“Yes,” Choso hums, voice muffled by the pillows.

You sigh and stand up, walking over to him before plopping down on your bed beside him, “Well, that’s perfect timing because there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

His head pops up like an excited little puppy and Choso’s eyes are wide on yours, eager to hear anything you have to say to him, “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Well, it’s somewhat of a serious conversation…” You hum nervously.

He tilts his head for a moment and then moves to sit normally, “What is it, baby?”

Taking a deep breath, you try to remember that Choso’s rather open to anything you have to say so there’s no reason to be nervous, “Okay uh, remember that other guy I told you about…”

“My competition? The one who got you that necklace on Christmas?” Choso asks for clarification.

You nod, “Mhm. Well, it’s about him.”

“Okay…” Choso says, awaiting your explanation.

“I have to see him,” You explain bluntly.

He blinks, “For…?”

“There’s… There’s this-, this thing we had together…”

“You’re not secretly the mother of his child are you?” Choso blurts out teasingly.

You snort, “No!”

Choso chuckles, “Okay, okay, so what’s the thing?”

“Uhm, it’s a journal…” You murmur timidly.

Your boyfriend tilts his head and raises a brow, “Of?”

“Memories.” You answer.

He nods, “Uhuh…”

“Memories that he and I promised to burn together.”

“Ohhh,” Choso’s brows raise and then he nods again, “That’s uh, that actually sounds rather peaceful.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm, sounds like a good way to let someone go,” Choso comments, “Why’d you feel the need to tell me?”

Your brows pinch together. Why wouldn’t you tell him? “Because you’re my boyfriend?” You say in an obvious tone.

Choso blinks, “So?”

“I-I dunno I just thought you should know!”

“I appreciate that but, I trust you.” He laughs a bit, not seeing why you got so serious over this topic, “You don’t have to tell me every little thing you’re gonna do with some guy.”

“Even though he could be considered an ex-lover?” You question.

“You’re going to completely end things with him, I think I’d be fine if you told me after the fact or not at all,” Choso claims with a shrug, “But since you did tell me, when are you gonna go do this?”

“I’m thinking tomorrow…” You explain your thought process on the matter and he nods along with you.

Then, another brow rose, “Why tomorrow? Is it some important day?”

“Well…” Your gaze drops to your lap for a moment as you think back, “Tomorrow’s Wednesday.”

“Okay…”

“It… His complicated relationship with me started on a Wednesday.” You explain.

Choso coos, “And you wanna end it on a Wednesday?”

“Mhm…” You hum.

“Alright,” He shrugs yet again, feeling so very casual about this, “Do I need to do anything or…?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know.”

He nods, “Okay, thanks for telling me.” He says with a pleased grin on his face.

And that conversation pretty much ends there— just like that. You had to blink a few times to make sure this was real because you’re still trying to get used to problems or confusion getting solved and cleared up so quickly.

That was so much easier than you thought it was going to be.

Which is exactly why after that, Choso asks if you were gonna call the other guy and you told him you would sooner or later— to which your boyfriend insisted that you call him ASAP.

Then, before you could argue him down, Choso got up and said he’d give you space to make that phone call. He studies your body language and facial expressions all the time so he could tell that this was the kinda thing he needed to push you to do or else it would never get done.

And with that, Choso left you in your room.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was hard to make that phone call.

Like, really hard. Even once the call was made, hearing Gojo’s voice after so long made your heart ache. You don’t know if he realized it but he sounded so much more at peace over the phone.

The last time you spoke to him, he seemed anxious and ready for something bad to happen but this time, Gojo sounded so relaxed and at ease. It seemed as though his heart had gotten the proper time it needed to heal.

But then again, that’s just how he seemed over the phone.

“Tomorrow?” Gojo asked softly, “You wanna do this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” You question in return.

“Course’ it is,” He hummed, “I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to call me.”

You chuckle, “Sorry it took me a while…”

“It’s alright,” Gojo says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mhm…” You hum almost longingly.

“Cya, sweets,” He dismisses.

You sigh heavily and your voice is barely even there as you utter the word bye— to which he ends the call.

You’re unsure of why but you didn’t want things to end yet. This was really the last page of such a headache of a story, the rolling credits of a heart-wrenching movie…

Just as quickly as that call went by, so did the rest of your day. Choso pointed out how gloomy you seemed and he knew it was because of what you had to do the next day. Even so, he just comforted you and told you everything’s gonna be okay-, that this is for the best.

You agreed with him, knowing that this wasn’t a weight you could carry on your shoulders forever. Despite not ever learning the truth, things would just have to end here.

If anything, Gojo did promise that he’d give you the truth in some years if you still cared. So, there would always be that to look forward to…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The next day was cloudy. Large fluffy gray clouds decorated the sky, small peeks of sunlight escaping through the cracks every now and then. Honesty, the weather matches your mood.

Gojo sent you this location of where he wanted everything to take place and you drove out to him by yourself. Choso told you to call him if you needed him for anything and again assured you that everything would be okay.

Somewhere deep down inside he was worried that this final meeting with an ex-lover of yours would or could change something between you and him but ultimately— Choso’s trust in you overpowered that worry. You’d shown him how much you loved him too much for him to doubt you now.

As for you… You don’t think you were ready to even lay eyes on Gojo yet, having sat in your car parked not too far from the spot he’s in for roughly thirty minutes. It took some real strength for you to get out of the car and head over to him.

He was in this park-like area but it seemed rather abandoned. It wasn’t ominous or anything, just dull and void of recent activity. There was this small river that you spotted Gojo nearby and in front of him was a large metal trash can— an item that seemed to be used numerous times to burn things.

Part of you wondered if Gojo had done this kinda thing before. Yet, all thoughts went out the window when you heard him humming to something.

Raising a brow at the lanky white-haired man, you notice he’s got headphones in his ear, casually humming along with whatever he was listening to. You were smiling at his cluelessness about you being there before you even realized it.

The closer you get, you notice his music is rather loud and he’s not paying attention to anything at all. Gojo had Sober by Childish Gambino blaring in his ears and you watch as he just stops nodding his head and then his shoulders raise and fall whilst he sighs heavily.

Gojo’s head tips back and his eyes shut— lost to his thoughts and oblivious to you approaching him. He was such an angelic-looking man and you hated to admit it but even now as you approach his side, you couldn’t help but admire him.

He seemed slimmer than the last time you saw him and as you studied his face, there were eyebags beneath his sockets, the sight making your brows furrow. His hair was a mess, seeming as though he didn’t even bother to brush it into a presentable state, and yet he still managed to look as beautiful as ever.

You do nothing more than nudge his arm and Gojo’s eyes flutter open, his head slow to turn and look down at you. The eye contact lasts for a long moment and it’s like you watched his eyes light up for a moment only to dim again. Not that they dimmed negatively but, they certainly weren’t as bright on you as normal.

Gojo heaves out yet another sigh and then moves to pull his phone out and pause what he had been playing. Then, he takes out his headphones and pockets them, “Hey,” He greets simply.

You swallow, “Hi Satoru.”

Gojo pauses, smiling for a moment before chuckling, “We’re really doing this, huh?”

You tilt your head, “Yeah, why? Are you not ready?”

The man shrugs, “I dunno.”

You simply stare up at him with pretty wide eyes, the sight making his heart skip a beat as he looks off to the side.

Something comes over you and you step closer to him, lifting a hand to his face and forcing him to turn his head to you again. His eyes are slow to drag down to your expression and he’s breathing oh so softly.

You frown at him, “Have you been getting any sleep?”

Gojo chuckles nervously, “Of course-“

“Don’t lie to me,” You cut off sternly.

He eats his words and then shakes his head, “Sorry. I’ve had a few restless nights here and there but I’m fi-“

“Please Satoru, don’t tell me you’re fine when it’s so painfully obvious you’re not,” You plead, shoulders sinking, “How am I expected to ever be happy if I know you’re hurting?”

His heart jumps at your words. Why is it that you care so much? Gojo smiles a little, “I’m not hurting, I promise. I just… I can’t sleep sometimes but I’ve had that problem long before you.”

“I’ve never seen the bags under your eyes this heavy before,” You point out before removing your hands from him and sliding the bag you brought with you off your shoulder.

“Why do you pay so much attention to me?” He asks.

As you drop the bag, you bend down to pull out the highlighted item of this meet-up. “Because I care about you, dumbass,” You voice out passive-aggressively.

Gojo gives you a dopey grin, “Yeah?”

You roll your eyes at the man and then move to smack his arm while you stand to your feet, “Yes. As much as I don’t mean to, I do. I care about you a lot.”

He frowns and rubs a hand over where you hit him, dramatically acting like you actually hurt him, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I do. But I’m allowed to care about you.” Your words left you as you approached the metal trash can and placed the book on top of the pile of previously burned items.

Gojo nods and reaches into his pocket for a lighter, “Fair enough.” He hums, stepping toward you and the item and staring at it for a moment, “How discreet; writing on the cover ‘list of people to seduce’.” He teases.

“Oh shut up,” You whine playfully, “I was stressed when I wrote that, okay? Hop off.”

Gojo snickers, “My bad, sweets.”

Then, he flicks the flame to his lighter and reaches in his other pocket to pull out some small bottle— the liquid inside presumably lighter fluid as he then pours it over the book and proceeds to light the item on fire.

Both of your eyes have a glint in there as the flames ignite— the warmth caressing the surfaces of your faces.

Silence overcomes the two of you and you guys just watch the journal burn. It feels like there is so much and so little to say at the same time.

Eventually, Gojo just blurts something out at random, “Both.” He hums.

You chuckle and turn your head to him, “W-What? Both what?”

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.”

You simply blink, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does, you just won’t understand it.” Gojo hums, smiling a little.

With a sigh, your eyes grow pleasing, “Then help me understand, please.”

“There isn’t much more for you to understand.” He states, “I’ve given you every answer I have, love.”

“But you haven’t.” You emphasize. If it’s all over, why can’t he tell you now? “You’ve given me everything but the answer.” You say.

“Answer to what?” Gojo taunts.

“Why. Why you did everything you did?” You ask.

He snickers and is casual with his answer like always, “Because I love you.”

“That-“

“You asked for an answer and I’ve given it to you nearly every time.” Gojo cuts off, “It’s always been that and it’ll never change. I did what I did because I love you, why is that so hard to accept?”

“Because that doesn’t make sense.” You argue with a scoff, “You fell for me amid your blackmail and yet you blackmailed me to begin with because you're in love with me?

“The answers are in your question.” He tells you.

Another sigh escapes, “What?”

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.”

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?”

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement.

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him.

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.”

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yup.”

“Satoru, I-“

“There’s things I should’ve done differently but I can’t take it back. My mistake was loving you and my happiness is also loving you but, only in letting you go will either of us find peace.” Gojo explains finally, “You know this.”

“I do.” Shaking your head, you shrug, “But, there’s so much unanswered.”

“There isn’t.” The man chuckles so sweetly, almost in a way that says he knows it all— which he does seeing as he simply keeps you in the dark.

Groaning a bit, “Satoru-“

He just cuts you off again, “I’ve given you my truth. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Okay, fine.” You result in saying.

The soft crackle of flames engulfing the journal fills the air accompanied by the two of you breathing softly. The reflection of the flames could be seen in either of your eyes and both of you simply relaxed yourselves.

He wasn’t going to give you any non-confusing answers and, y’know what, you were okay with that. Gojo promised one day he would and you believed in said promise.

So, now it’s quiet-, peaceful even. The journal was burning and burning, all known evidence of the list and memories that came with it being ridden from the world only to lay within the minds of you and Gojo Satoru.

How it started, how it ended— only the two of you would remember-

“Y’know…” Gojo suddenly speaks, breaking the silence and lightening the mood all of a sudden, “Before we part, we should name it.”

You scoff and glance at him, “Name what?”

“The list.” He clarifies.

Blinking, you raise a brow, “Why? It has a name already; the list.”

Gojo rolls his eyes and he moves to nudge your arm, “Oh come onnnnn, that's so plain. It needs a title.”

“Why? It’s burning.” You point out bluntly.

He’s smiling, “Okay, and the title of it can burn into our heads.”

“I don’t understand the importance of a-“

“The Hit List,” He suddenly spews out.

You freeze for a moment before letting out a cackle, “The Hit List? I was seducing people, not assassinating them.”

Gojo chuckles, “Alright thennn, The Lust List.”

“Mmmh, no.” You hum.

“No? Why not?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders as he does so.

Tilting your head, your eyes ogle the burning book a bit more, “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Uhuh…” He nods, “Okay how about The Lewd List?” He suggests as he wiggles his eyebrows in a silly manner.

You laugh at him, “Hell no!”

“Alright then picky lady, you come up with somethin’,” Gojo says with a pout.

You fold your arms and hum in thought, “The Kiss List.”

“Did a lot more than kissing though, didn’t you?” He comments under his breath.

You smack his arm and he laughs. “The Sex List, then. Since I did more than kissing.” You mock him, purposefully making your voice deeper.

Gojo’s got this big smile on his face and the sun has emerged from the clouds to shine over the two of you. “That one’s not too bad but, no.”

“No?! Well then this naming bullshit is stupid.” You result in saying as you frown playfully.

His cheeks are all flushed from both laughing with you and the heat from the flames before him, “You’re stupid.” He responds with the same energy.

“Nuh-uh.” You hum.

Gojo snorts, “Yuh-huh.”

Giggling at the banter you still have with this man, you sigh, “Okay, whatever Satoru. Come up with a name or else-“

“Oh! I got it!” He suddenly claims with a snap of his fingers.

You look at him and tilt your head, “Yeah? What?”

Gojo laughs, “Oh this is perfect.”

“What is it, dumbass?” You urge.

He freezes dramatically and gives you a slow head turn as if he were offended, “Well if you’re gonna be mean to me I’m not gonna tell you…”

“Satoru.” You blink.

He blinks twice to mock you, “Sweetheart.”

“Just tell me the damn name already.” You sigh.

Gojo, being the dramatic king he is, steps closer to you and tosses an arm over your shoulder. He leans down so his voice is near your ear and he smiles, “You’re gonna like it.”

“What is it?” You huff out impatiently.

With one last snicker, Gojo tips his head over to rest it against yours as you both watch the book burn into its final ashes— both of you smile at its destruction and then he sighs.

“When you first asked me what you’d be doing with the list of those names, what did I say?” He asks as you both keep your eyes on the idle ashes.

You relax under his touch, “You said I’d be fucking them.”

“Right so, naturally,” Gojo pauses just to build up your anticipation, “The name should be rather simple.”

Nodding, you await him to say it, “Exactly…”

His smile grows into something softer, more at peace, “So we’ll remember it as…”

This gentle exhale leaves your lips as you wait for him to just say it already.

Gojo’s careful as finally tells you, “…The F*ck List.”

“That’s…” You blink, “That’s perfect but why’d you say it like that?”

His brows furrow, “Like what?”

“Like you censored the u in fuck, it sounded like you said The Fck List instead of The Fuck List-“

“Shhh,” Gojo shushes playfully, “It’s more aesthetically pleasing the way I said it, okay?”

You giggle again, “That doesn’t-“

“Sweetheart, please.” He interrupts.

“Fine fine…” Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “I guess that’s the name then.”

“Yup, and also the end.”

“Hm?”

“List is complete, you’re happy, I’m happy, so…” Gojo’s voice softens, “That’s the end.”

Feeling happy for some reason, you’re smiling as you speak, “Is it really?”

“Mhm…” Gojo hums and the two of you watch the dying flames as he truly speaks his final words on the matter, “…The end of The F*ck List."

mlist || previous chapt || alt ending || extras

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 

He also had his cursed technique. 

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it. 

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely. 

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 

Perfect, beautiful girl. 

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

breakfast, lunch, & dinner pt. 2 -> the jjk men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you -> hiromi higuruma, satoru gojo, shiu kong, suguru geto, takuma ino

hiromi works so hard, & he’s just so tense all the time, carrying so much on his shoulders. but, if anything, that weight falls off when he’s got your legs hiked up over his shoulders, face buried in your heavenly cunt. he’s diligent about it, tongue sliding against all those places that have you falling apart on him. it’s his love language, it’s his favorite pastime, he could spend hours in between your legs if you let him, & why wouldn’t you when he’s so attentive, so sweet, sitting you on top of his face, & pulling you down, so gentle & yet so debauched, gaining his own delicious pleasure from it. oh, he’s hard? he didn’t even notice, he’s cum in his briefs twice now & he’s not about to start worrying about it now. 

(the nose, the nose, the nose, the nos—)

satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, every little movement is so perfectly designed to have you creaming all over his face. when he knows so much about you, he’s able to tease you. you just fall apart for him, at the simplest things, & you get mad at him for it too.

“st-stop teasin’ me,” you’d whine after the fifth time of his hot breath ghosting over your cunt, innocent kisses falling against your inner thighs. “just-just do something already.” 

“do what?” he’d mock, tongue sliding against the lips of your pussy, tingling sensations coursing through you body. he’d get off on it, the way you would grab him by the scalp, soft hair taut between your fingers, & shove his face in your cunt, showing him exactly what to do, as if he didn’t already know. he just wanted his pretty girl to tell him. 

“where d’ya think you’re going?” shiu sneers, gripping the fat of your ass so tight it’ll surely leave bruises for tomorrow. 

“c-can’t take any-anymore, shiu, too much s’too much,” you babble, trying to pull away from his tongue lying flat against your oversensitive cunt, nose prodding against the taut of your asshole. 

“you can, pretty, & you will, ‘cause you’re gonna be good & sit still for me, aren’tcha?” of course you are, always so good for him, that’s what makes him what to stick his tongue in you every night because it always has you dumb & soft & pliant for him to fuck you afterwards. 

it’s a game to suguru, how fast can he make his pretty girl cum. don’t take that wrong, though, he’s certainly not in a rush; he just knows you all too well: the soft sighs as he trails kisses down your abdomen, grinning as it tightens against his lips, ticklish; the whines the spill from your lips as he noses at your folds, fingering them apart so he can get the best view of his favorite thing; the pretty mewls you choke out as he sucks on your clit, abusing the poor thing; the downright filthy moans that he pulls from you as he slips a finger in next to his tongue, & that’s all it takes for you to cum on his skilled tongue. 

it’s not that he’s trying to expedite the process by any means, suguru just loves to bring you pleasure, maybe a little too much, you think. he’s a little. . .sadistic with it, because as quickly as you fall apart on his tongue, well that’s how fast he's starting back up again, if he ever even stopped. 

back to front, & front to back ‘til you’re a sobbing mess, & takuma's looking up at you saying, “don’t you like it, pretty? doesn’t it feel good? huh? so why are you cryin’ then?” & if you had any sense left you’d make him regret that, but this is takuma’s place to shine. he can’t hardly contain himself when you’re sitting on his cock, or rubbing your tits on it, but when he’s face to face with your perfect, dripping cunt, he’s able to focus a little more—only a little more. 

he likes to lick fat stripes with his tongue over your panties, slipping them to the side sticking his tongue right in you ‘cause he can’t keep his girl waiting. he’s messy with it, too, not caring that he’s a slobbering mess all over your pussy, spitting on it even though you’re already so wet for him. 

did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[faithums]

…shopping with jjk men—> ੈ✩‧₊˚

✎ synopsis: what happens when you decide to agree to go shopping with these boys, but shopping doesn’t exactly happen…

<suggestive in some parts> <fluff> <crack> <subtle angst>

inclu. gojo, nanami, megumi, choso, yuji, toji, inumaki, geto

╰┈➤ gojo satoru

of course he takes you to a bougie mall just so show off his wealth. what can he say; actually wait, he does know what to say- he calls himself a ‘philanthropist’ (putting that lightly) because he once gave a kid on a playground a half eaten krispy kreme. he takes you in all of the shops, bombarding you with a plethora of new designer items, he really does too much…

“Saturo-,” you couldn’t really speak coherent words as your boyfriend was currently picking out several different items of jewellery and placing them infront of you. They were all so beautiful; silver plated with diamond crusted attachments, which glistened in the reflection of the glass chandelier. He had dragged you to a very, expensive jewellers, and was insistent of you- well him- making a purchase.

“Shush. You’re getting at least one thing.” He quickly shut down your rebuttal as per without hesitation. Then carefully, he lifted your wrist up, dragging the enticing metal over it, tracing the subtle contours of your forearm. The sudden cold contact made your breath hitch slightly, but the worst thing was the price… You were shocked- to say the least. Why did the woman in-front of you let him behave in this childish way.

“What the hell.” A whisper spilled from your lips, “Saturo this is extortionate, I can’t have this. It’s just daylight robbery- I’d be too scared to wear it out.” Small protests were made but he just kept on and on, yapping to the sales clerk beside him about the insurance of the pulchritudinous bracelet. The fact that it had insurance was a crime in itself.

“‘Nnnnnd that’s what… like two ish grand? Okay okay. Bare with-,” Gojo’s arms were slung into his pockets, rummaging for his wallet. He is so nonchalant- too nonchalant about this… Sooner than later, the transaction had been completed and you had another bag in your hands. The hummed to himself as he watched you struggle to hold like what, 10 ish (maybe more) bags. It was funny, you could tell which ones you’d brought yourself, as you had some PRIMARK bags, yet some Tiffany & Co. bags (i wonder who brought which ones…). It was nice to treat yourself, but him spoiling you most days- you felt somewhat guilty.

“Saturo. Can I get you anything in return? If there’s anything you want, I mean- I know I don’t have as much as you bu-,” your ramblings were cut short by Gojo’s immediate response.

“Hm. I can only think of one thing if I’m honest,” he pondered suspiciously, putting his hand on his chin like a childish idiot.

“What.” You replied with a smile creeping up your cheek as his arm slithered around your waist; taking some of the weight from the bags in the process.

“Backshots.” He grinned smugly.

A grimace formed on your face, knowing full well what would happen when you two returned home. After all, if gratitude can be free- then backshots it is.

╰┈➤ nanami kento

a gentleman, through and through. his patience shines when he is with you: helping you declutter your thoughts, calming you down. he takes time for you, and especially with you. he loves seeing you immersed within the clothes you surround yourself in, not interested in anything but you. he really is a gift too pure for this world…

Nanami promised to take you to the mall today, so here you were. The morning sun cascading down your neck, it heating up your skin ever so subtly, creating a comforting warmth. You found yourself strolling hand in hand with him. The air still alive with possibilities and the hun of excitement.

The boutique stood out like a beacon of elegance admits the bustling mall, it’s exterior adorned with intricate wrought iron accents and tall, gleaming windows that showcased the latest fashion wonders like prized jewels in a treasure trove. Upon entering, a wave of opulence washed over you, enveloping you in a cocoon of luxury (that you wished lasted a lifetime).

As you navigated through the labyrinth of silks, your fingers grazed over sumptuous fabrics, each touch eliciting a sense of delight. No wonder Nanami decided to take you here. It’s very fancy- to say the least. The ambiance was one of sophistication and refinement, yeah, this is Nanami territory.

You decided to chose out a dress, on Nanamis behalf (he said it was ‘his treat’), so now you’re stood before a full-length mirror examining yourself and if this was nice, or not…

The soft, velvety fabric of the black king dress was dripping down your figure, you couldn’t help but feel a path of uncertainty fluttering within the depths of your heart. The dress, with its sleek silhouette and subtle shimmer, represented the shop at its peak. Yet you gazed at your reflection, doubts crept in like shadows in the moonlight.

Your fingers traced the delicate embroidery adorning the bodice, the intricate patterns seeming to dance beneath your touch. You shifted uneasily, the fabric clinging to your form in a way that felt both foreign and unfamiliar. A flicker of insecurity danced in your eyes as you searched for reassurance within the depths of the mirror- yet none was found.

Beside you, Nanami, your Kento. He stood tall, with an unwavering presence, his eyes utterly fixated onto you, which sent a warmth flooding through your veins. His gaze offered solace admits the storm of hesitation that raged within.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice smooth like honey, a melody that washed over you like a gentle breeze. “You look.” He stopped, looking you up and down again, “stunning.” To which you blushed at his words.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m not too sure if it’s right for me.”

His gaze softened, he cupped your cheek. His touch was like a balm to your wounded spirit, his presence a source of strength in your moment of vulnerability. “It’s not about the dress,” he replied, voice filled with sincerity, “it’s about how you feel when you wear it. And right now, as far as I’m concerned, you look. Breathtaking.”

His words, like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty, anchored you to reality. With a tender gesture, you leaned forward, pressing a delicate kiss to Nanami’s cheek, a silent token of gratitude for his unwavering love and encouragement.

╰┈➤ fushiguro megumi

this boy. he is clueless. utterly clueless. he doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to basic shopping- you’re surprised he can even get dressed: speaking of getting dressed. you’ve taken him to get new clothes because the little freak basically lives and breathes in the same 3 hoodies all of the time. so now you’re helping him try on clothes in the back changing rooms of a shop…

You were currently egging your anxious boyfriend on to get new shirts, joggers, coats, anything. Just clothes. He desperately needed new ones. He’s been living in literally the same ones for the entire time you’ve been dating.

“I swear to god Megs. If you don’t come out of this shop with at least a hanger I’ll kill you myself.” Your warnings didn’t seem to bother him as he only hummed in response. You both began looking, rummaging throughout the clearance racks. Scouring and mapping out the highs and lows of the shop until your hands had found themselves tugging on a specific item of clothing you would die to see him in it.

“Fushiguro. Come here right now,” you said, condescendingly, walking over to him, slowly closing the distance between you. “Look at this.” You handed the shirt to him. Waiting for a reaction, but instead you just got an inconspicuous raise of an eyebrow, inspecting the shirt.

“What about it. It’s literally just a normal black shirt?” He questioned you and your antics as something had to be up… “You know I don’t need any more black t shirts.”

“I don’t care you’re trying this on or else I’ll. uh. I don’t know but I’ll do something,” you rebutted his faffing about and basically dragged him to the changing room cubicle at the back of the store. You nudged his arm, indicating that you hadn’t got all day, even though he seemed to think otherwise.

A few minutes had passed and no signs of life had emerged from Megumi’s cubicle. “You okay in there?” You replied hastily, and got a meek reply of: “No.”

“No? The fuck does he mean no.” You mumbled under your breath, “babe what’s wrong?”

“Is it supposed to be this tight?” And with that the curtain dividing the two of you opened, revealing Megumi with the worlds most tightest compression shirt on, which looked as if it had been tailored for him especially.

Your jaw was practically on the floor, it was a fight to stop your mouth from falling in awe. He looked so- good. But ‘good’ puts how he looks too lightly; so let’s go with irresistible. The faint outline of his abs peaking from under the restriction of his shirt, his body’s contours moving as he fidgeted. “My my Megumi. Bend me over and do me dirty, you look nice,” you announced to him.

“Nice? After you say that, nice is what you come up with?” He deadpanned with a subtle smirk

“Thought it was suitable.” You smiled. “Giving my big girls vocabulary a rest for today. I mean, keeping my eyes on you is like a chore.” You chuckled then sighed, and on queue your eyes did again search from his veiny arms to his slightly turned head (with the smallest hint of blush visible).

“Shut up.” He protested whilst rolling his eyes.

“When we get back home I want a fashion show.” You declared, whipping your purse out already, determined to buy this for him.

╰┈➤ kamo choso

choso is the most oblivious person when it comes to the basic things in life. ask him you’re going for a girls night and he will insist on coming with you, but then you will have to explain to him and let him down gently that he can’t go. but today you’ve dragged him to the mall and now he doesn’t have a clue what’s what…

Dragging Choso into Sephora wasn’t exactly on your list of typical couple activities, but you couldn’t resist the urge to splurge all of your hard earned money on crap you didn’t need (who doesn’t!) and besides you were overdue a makeup shopping trip. As you began to peruse the aisles, you can’t help but to notice a group of young girls, no older than ten, browsing and gawking at the Drunk Elephant section nearby.

“What’re they going here? Haven’t they just come out of the womb or something?” Choso whispers, his curiosity piqued by the sight of such young customers in a makeup store.

“Hm. Oh. Yeah no, they’re just ogling at the viral products, which in fact won’t do anything for their non hormonal skin. That’s normal in makeup shops Chos,” You reply casually, not necessarily caring as you’ve heard of many stories like this- although these kids are supposed to be brutal.

You focused your attention to the products infront of you, “hmmm, I do need a new setting spray.” You picked the bottle up, seeing if it matched the one on your phone. Choso chirped in.

“Setting Spray? Is it like… a magical mist that sets the mood for your makeup? So is it when you’re angry, you do angry makeup.” He asked obliviously.

“What do you mean by angry makeup-,” you cut yourself off before you got distracted, “Not quite love…” you dismissed his naive behaviour with a loving smile.

You hadn’t really taken in how tall he was, stood next to you it was as if there was a skyscraper. He’s just too attractive. You admired in silence, as he cluelessly picked up an eyebrow gel and scraped a bit on the back of his hand- then went on to complain how his hand was sticky.

Some time had passed and the Sephora ten year olds were slowly approaching the section you were stood in. It had clicked what you both were blocking with your figures… Retinol. These Sephora kids bloody loved this stuff, even though it is way way too damaging for their skin, they think they’re Einstein and don’t want to be disproven.

“Chos let’s go.” You grabbed his cold, pale hand to avoid this inevitable conflict. But he was interested in the thing you needed to distance yourself from… “Retinol? Chos, do you really need that?” You advised him.

“I think I’ll get it, just trying it won’t hurt- will it?” He asked, his dark eyes staring lovingly at you.

“Most likely not.” You laughed at the entire situation to yourself, you did not expect to see your boyfriend in a queue for Sephora to buy retinol. It was very humouring.

All seemed quiet until this little girl approached Choso and demanded for what he hand in his hand to ‘be hers’. He just stood there, puzzled.

“No.” He said bluntly, and this child did not stop screaming. It was like Choso had pulled a fire alarm. As long as that kid doesn’t get its way then it doesn’t matter.

He ended up purchasing the retinol, which is so weird to think about… ‘As long as it keeps him happy’ you thought.

╰┈➤ itadori yuji

he’s always thinking about his stomach, then jennifer lawrence, then you. so it’s ideal that he starts off his afternoon by feeding the first and third most important things in his life, by taking you straight to the food court…

“You’re paying.”

“WHAT?” He practically shat himself when he heard this, “WHY?”

“Maybe because when we go for food. You order the entire menu. Every. Fucking. Time. Yuji.” You said, sternly, as in ‘I’m happy to be here sternly- but if you make me pay I’ll kill you sternly.’

“It’s not my fault that I’ve got like six stomachs or something! I just think it means I’ve got a good ability to digest food quicker,” Yuji yapped on and on, trying his hardest to justify his case as he talked to himself.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night babe,” you leaned into his shoulder as he pulled you toward him via the waist as you two walked to the food court.

The rich aromas of sweets and savoury attacked your senses, as he guided you to the birthplace of gluttony. It oozed of pride in its branding, as when you stepped through the door- the ostentatious architecture made itself present, the waiters all in their matching regal uniforms, there must’ve been a fountain somewhere deeper in the restaurant as the smell of spring water came apparent.

Yuji took one look at you and your reaction to the extravagant establishment and you both knew what would happen next.

“Fancy a wagas?” Yuji stated, fine dining wasn’t his style, you knew this, this man cannot sit still- let alone be waited upon.

“Couldn’t think of anything better babe,” you smiled, as he gave the top of your head a chaste kiss, briefly rubbing his face against your hair as he said previously that he ‘liked the smell’. “Babe if you’re smelling my hair again I think I might cry. This is literally the third time within the past half hour.”

“You’re only allowed to cry when we’re sat at a table with food infront of us. Now come on, I’m starving,” he gripped your hip and escorted you out of the posh building as you two rendezvoused to the nearby Wagamamas.

A bit of time had passed and you two were tucked into your meals, which were delicious. And Yuji had the audacity to ask (like the cheeky sod he is): “Can you actually start crying so we can get a free meal? The staff look like they’d take pity on you.” And in response you threw an edamame at his smug face.

“Get lost you gannit. You’ll be crying when you see the bill,” a cacophony of laughter emerged from your lips as you had just cursed the upcoming tab which was about to be placed in-front of Yuji.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Yuji’s once cute and naive smirk disintegrated from one of happiness to pure horror when the total cost from the check was in eyeshot. 

╰┈➤ fushiguro toji

this mf cannot afford to even go into a mall (let alone buy something in it). he’s often spotted cavorting around mcdonald’s waiting until somebody’s order has been called up, pretends to be said person, takes the food and dips immediately. whilst you watch with horror from the back of the room. or sometimes, he has told you he would be at work, so when you decide to visit your local mall (to treat yourself whilst he’s away) and see him begging for money outside of it alls he can say is “gotta make money somehow doll,” with a grin and he thinks he can get off scot free? yeah, absolutely not.

n/a…

╰┈➤ inumaki toge

this man thinks he’s so hard core, thinks he’s the silent but deadly type: when in reality he looks like a weirdo lingering behind people acting like that one man emoji (🧍‍♂️) . and now he’s followed you upto the store in the mall with all of the jelly cats piled in it…

You and Inumaki were walking up the stairs of the shopping centre, when you caught a glimpse of a particular bag with a specific logo on it… Inumaki hand tensed around the mound of flesh which was there originally, now his hand was clenching around the air, you had ran off in the distance somewhere as you’d seen something you’d been wanting for a while.

“Ohmy godoh. my gof-,” your thoughts were disorientated a little, and your breath wasn’t catching up with your train of thought; but you couldn’t help but run after this woman with this bag. You needed it. And when you had finally caught upto her you politely said, “Excuse me, you know your bag? Where did you get it from? I cant seem to find a store where they sell them?” And the woman responded, a bit confused as you were enquiring about a paper bag, but you got the location of where you needed to go.

Inumaki had been left in the dust at this rate, frantically panicking as he was trying to find you, but he saw a glimpse of you from across the other side of the mall and b-lined for it. (A very funny sight to witness.) But you were too absorbed with what you had in your hands, not just that- but what was all around you.

You were in a store which sold soft animals, but the best news was that it’s sold JellyCats, you had wanted these teddies for a while, but there were no local shops which had them. The air smelt clean and crisp, juxtaposing the once stuffy, smelly, BO infested mall air, the place was magical, it was as if a part of your childhood was taken away and kept here.

Once Inumaki had found you again, he had found himself inside of the store as it had caught his eye, as he knew you would be inside of there. He walked upto you again, relived at the sight of you- however you seemed to be to infatuated with the teddies and not himself. So, the once pristine fluffy teddy in your hands got absolutely clarted by Inumaki’s fist.

“Toge what the hell are you doing you freak.” You joked, knowing he has called you far worse over text. “You cannot just punch all of the teddies.” You exclaimed between slight giggles. You shook your hand as you continued to browse the aisles, careful not to pick up any more victims for Inumaki’s playful punches (which were meant with full intent with the sheer vigour of how he clarted them).

You had been looking for this specific JellyCat which has a brown elephant, you’d had your eye on it for a while now, and low and behold. There it was, sat on a shelf by itself, it was practically begging for you to pick it up and re-home the cute thing.

However, there was a kid coming to toward it. “For gods sake,” you let out a slight groan, your paces speeding up ever so slightly in attempt to beat this child at reaching it before yourself. When suddenly Inumaki appears from literally thin air, snatches the elephant from the shelf, and hands it to be- and to top it off- the kid is given a gift too. The gift of Inumaki whipping out the ‘L’ hand sign.

“Toge…” you sighed and smiled lightly yet victoriously. You ruffled his hair, “Thanks babe.”

╰┈➤ geto suguru

i swear geto is the same as having like scary dog privilege. you lead the way and he lurks, when in reality he’s just made you walk infront of him because you’ve elbowed him as he made a snarky joke about the a weird guy walking past. doesn’t even make sense. anyway, now you’re leading him to the sweet shop at the end of the mall…

“Fudge?” Geto sighed, “really? Out of everything you’re going to get fudge.” (Geto does not like fudge. Whatsoever.)

“Yeah. I am. What’s got your knickers in a twist Sugu?”

“It’s vile.”

“You’re vile.” He rolled his eyes, even when you were in-front of him you could just sense it.

The sweet shop made itself closer and closer until the luminous neon lights were reflecting from the walls, and your face- making it appear pink and blue. As you and Geto step into the sweet shop, the air iss thick with the scent of sugar, like a warm embrace from a long-last friend. The vibrant array of sweets and treats dazzle your eyes, each confectionary a colourful masterpiece in its own right.

You turn to Geto, excitement bubbling within you as you’d been craving something sugary all day. “I’m starvingggg,” you whined, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

“No you’re not.” He quipped.

“Shush. Let me try one,” you said as you reached for a sample, and it was like you’d been transcended to a realm of peaceful tranquility. “Want one?” You offered to him.

“Nah, I’ll stick to the classics” you grin at his choice, admiring his steadfast dedication, even though he acts like an old man sometimes.

“Cant argue with you for that babe,” you reply, selecting a few more treats for yourself. “After all, why mess with perfection? Even though fudge is still top tier.”

He chuckled, the sound wand and genuine, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Exactly,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sometimes, simplicity is the sweetest indulgence of all.”

“Ooo. Get you and your fancy quotes, where are you reading them from then?” You ask, then pop another sweet into your mouth. He just smiles warmly.

As the two of you are walking out, there seems to be something which catches your eye: it reads ‘fudge flavoured condoms’. You felt your eye twitch. “Suguru. I want to die what the hell is that.” And to which Geto followed to where you were indicating toward and just laughed hysterically.

“Want me to buy some?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Absolutely not.” This was humiliating. Safe to say that you won’t be running back to fudge anytime soon.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[lordsukunas]

jjk men & you: nail appointment!

tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.

cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.

a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!

✿ — gojo:

first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.

“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”

✿ — ino:

he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.

“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”

✿ — nanami:

only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”

✿ — geto:

at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.

“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”

✿ — toji:

only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).

“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”

✿ — choso:

kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.

“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”

✿ — sukuna:

has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.

“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”

✿ — higuruma:

he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.

“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”

✿ — mahito ..?:

a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.

“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ do you believe in love? | gojo satoru

wc: 808

summary: you’re both 23 when you first ask gojo about love.

contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are mentioned, a bit of sad, there is a swear, kind of a will-they-won’t-they, alludes to some of gojo’s possible internal struggles, might feel a bit ooc? but i like to think gojo does have serious conversations once in a while 

a/n: the kind of gojo i envision in this is inspired by all the teen dad/dad gojo fics that i’ve ever read, most notably 'teen dad gojo' by @seravphs and 'keeping up with the fushiguros' by @/augustinewrites. this isn’t an addition to any of their works, but the way they write and characterise gojo has shaped the way i understand him (and ultimately how i write him) in these little blurbs of mine :’) please do check their works out if you have the time, it’s some of my favourites!! :’)

collection masterlist: conversations on love you are here -> 02. tell me about love (show me how)

“Do you believe in love?” 

You don’t think he hears you at first, but that’s impossible; the night is quiet, with only you and Gojo sitting by the steps of the dormitory entrance. His dangly long legs brush against yours, lingering barely. 

Since Suguru’s defection, Gojo’s gotten a lot more contemplative. He hides it a lot, especially with Megumi and Tsumiki around, but there are times that you catch him spacing out. There’s a far away look on his face and his demeanor completely shifts, rambunctiousness fading into something more restrained, if only in that moment. 

Other times, you’re let into that space with him, like now. 

“I do.” he replies, uncharacteristically succinct. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it. 

You weren’t expecting it, to be honest. With everything that’s happened to him so far, you were ready for a flat out cynical ‘no’. But—

“But,” he continues, “not for me.” 

There’s the ‘but’. 

He turns to look at you, eyes covered by the bandages he’s been opting for more recently. You’ve known Gojo since you were both 15, and somehow, you’ve gotten good at guessing what he’s always hiding. 

“You wanna tell me why?” you nudge. You figure this is good for him—or at least you hope it is. 

Getting Gojo to actually sit and have a real conversation with you has been increasingly difficult since Suguru disappeared. Taking in the Fushiguros, then the higher ups assigning him missions back-to-back-to-back—it’s been a lot. And you worry about him, if he’s even been able to sit down and process everything, if he’s even given himself the chance to feel for once. 

“Not really,” he shrugs, turning back to the garden in front of you. There isn’t much to discuss, it either fits in his life or doesn’t. When he’s meant for a purpose much larger than himself, small wants remain at just that: small, negligible. 

You huff, unable to hide your disappointment, “Okay.” 

But, you respect him and what he wants (or does not want) to say. 

As you stare out with him, Gojo eyes you from the side, the pout on your lips a teenage souvenir you still carry now at 23. He breaks into a small smile, the corners of his lips curving up slightly, fondly. 

“It’s just not meant for me, that’s all.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he says that, too. 

You slowly avert your gaze from the grass in front of you, focusing on him instead. His smile is still there, although it feels resigned, like he’s accepted this long ago. 

Gojo has never been meant to handle something so delicate and fragile—his divinity keeps him untouchable from such pure things. 

Still, you want to tell him that that’s not true. That you think love is meant for everyone, even in this fucked up, cursed world—especially in this fucked up, cursed world. 

You want to tell him that love is meant for him too. 

“Do you wish it were?”

He hums, arms stretching back as he leans on his wrists. His head dips back, looking at the sky. There’s a pause, then an exhale before he continues, “There’s no point thinking about it, I guess.” 

A non-answer. You take what you can get; it’s hard enough getting Gojo to be honest with you, much less talk about things like this. The night continues this way: you exchange anecdotes about your latest missions, then talk about Megumi’s most recent involvement in a school incident. Serious questions pop up here and there but you don’t push, and Gojo is willing to share what he can. 

.

.

.

You are 23 when you first ask Gojo if he believes in love, and he does, but what he doesn’t tell you is this: that he only believes it because he sees it in you—through the things you do, for Megumi and Tsumiki. For him too. 

There’s always been this unspoken thing between the two of you. He doesn’t know what to call it—never has, but it’s comfortable and safe, so he tries to keep it that way. 

Suguru has left an unpatchable hole inside of him that only you can seem to touch, softening the jaggedy edges so it doesn’t cut as deep. When he first showed up with Megumi and Tsumiki that one Friday night, you had all the questions in the world; he could see it, feel it in the furrow of your brows and the tapping of your foot. But instead, you asked this: “Have you guys eaten dinner yet?”

Gojo cannot afford love, not yet. Not when there’s still so much at risk, still so much to do. The cons significantly outweigh the pros on both ends, so this will have to do for now—this unspoken thing, that he hopes one day, he can finally call for what it really is.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[belleshub]

prompt 4

yanking them by their..

satoru g. — ear.

it may sound weird at first. satoru never lets anyone touch him. the strongest. he can’t be touched by his usual means of infinity.

so why did he let you do so? it’s a conundrum to him as well. why does he touch you, put on his flawed personality for display and be so vulnerable? because as much as he’d want to deny, he loves you.

he loves you so much, to the point where he in fact invited you to go shopping with him! sure, he probably would’ve done it with himself or someone else if you were to decline, but you didn’t.

that’s what matters.

youre glossing through the crowded mall, turning a head at anything that catches your eye - and that’s when you see it.

the perfect outfit, clad on the stores front mannequin. you’re just hoping and..

“that kid there has a digimon card—“

“you are such a nerd.” you throw your head back with a exasperated groan, fingers pitching the lobe of warm hearing vessels.

“cmonn, you’re not even buying anything.”

he whined. he knew very well that he was giving you an inch.

and you knew too.

immature, much?

“I was literally just looking at somethin’, what are you on about?” you bark back.

“okay, but like, I didn’t..”

“do you even know what you’re trying to argue about?” you furrow a brow.

“can’t you mentally bookmark it?”

“…” you two shortly find your way over to a gamestop. an embarrassing scene.

suguru g. — hair

more often than not, suguru doesn’t like when other people touch his hair. he meticulously grooms it, and takes care of it to the fullest. and if someone were to touch it - they’d have to be on the list of people he can tolerate. like his parents, or maybe shoko and gojo.. and without a doubt, you.

how could he not? suguru any touch of yours to be a grounding anchor to the reality he sometimes can’t even process himself. you’re his safe space. and he means it in every definition his brain could fathom.

and with you, it’s the same. you two were simply hanging out after school, and with how sassy he was - you two were prone to indulge in some banter.

sitting on some bench next to some convenience store, you chow down on some chips - him, observe the general public. it was one of those moments where, there isn’t exactly a set plan for the day - but rather more of a reprieve from your usual treacherous schedule.

so in short, you were just.. chilling.

while you were relaxing, you rant to him about your latest fixation, and then.. he gets a text message! from.. who?

“are you listening?” you lean forward, squinting as you tried to look at his screen.

“no, yeah..” he replies monotonously. you didn’t like that.

“I dare you to recount what I just said within three sentences—“

“I think satoru set me up, that snarky bastard.” his eye twitched as he tightened his grip on the flip phone. was he gonna break it?

“dude, relax, maybe he’s like.. I dunno..”

then you pause when you read the message.

“who the hell is misaki sato? and why does she have your number?”

“I told you, satoru set me up, I don’t know that girl!” he frowned, and you gently grab a tuff of hair, tugging just enough so you don’t place tension on his oh so tender scalp.

“oh shit! I think I know her!” your eyes widen, an accomplished smile gracing your features.

“was pulling my hair necessary?”

“shut up.”

yuji i. — arm.

you two were relaxing after just exiting from the movie theater. yuji just convinced you to watch a boring, dramatic and theatrical slasher. given that you genuinely had no other pastime, you took him up on his offer.

rookie mistake on his end, because for you, your knack for unconventional garbs was going to be the death of him.

“oh my god, oh my— yuji!” you exclaim. “it’s a flash sale, you know how much I love this stores stuff.”

“are you gonna even use half of the things in there?” he said sheepishly - until he saw merchandise. merchandise of his favorite movie!

“oh..it’s..its!”

you give him a side glance.

“oh, human centipede…”

“that’s like an entirely different thing!” he complains, and you simply push his back and your hand lands on his arm. circling around it, you pull him forth.

“my bad, that weird murder shit you like..” you correct yourself. awkwardly.

“it’s not weird!”

megumi f. — collar.

to be frank, megumi wasn’t to chatty type. he was more for the tiny things, the things that made it matter.

acts of service. that his niche. so.. why was he here.. crafting all these.. origami gifts.. why? because he wanted to surprise you. particularly because you just passed exams. he’s been routing for you, studying.. buying your energizers..

yuji brought up the idea, and megumi decided to entertain it. for once.

he presses the youtube video back, navy eyes narrowing further as he scrutinized the screen just one more time.

pink hair blurs his vision, and immediately, he’s over it again.

“maybe we should ask nobara. she’s a girl, she probably knows a lot about—“ yuji fell short of his exclaimation as megumi pressed him off to the side. he may or may not subtly have elbowed him in his side as well.

“I think I know my girlfriend, yuji..” he rolled his eyes, maybe at this point, he should give up. but if it’s one of your favorite..

clink.

the noise of a door unlocking throughout the dorm room sounds, and megumi feels like his soul has been snatched. hastily, he slams it close.

yuji, on the other hand, turned to the side, front obscuring the accumulated supplies in the front of them.

“ohh, heyy! we didn’t know you were..coming so soon?”

with your arrival, you don’t exhaust haste to trot your way over to megumi.

“the air in here doesn’t feel right.” you say.

“what the hell is that even supposed to mean?” yuji barked, hurriedly pushing the papers under the bed.

“I meant what I said! you guys are doing somethin’, and it’s suspicious! why else would yuji be in here?”

“I mean, he’s not always an unwanted presence..” megumi looks off to the side, a snicker escaping his lips.

“are you insinuating there has been times where I was a unwanted presence?” his friend yells, jaw hung low in appall.

you tsk, and pull his collar, trying to see what was behind him.

he didn’t seem.. particularly bothered by your proximity.

“now, what exactly are you guys try’na do?”

[captain-hawks]

Coming in with an absolutely unhinged pair of Nanami and Choso… idk maybe Nanami walks in on something something going down with Choso and by God someone fuck that business man…

💋mojogojocasahouse

(i make no apologies whatsoever for what i just wrote, but i do wholeheartedly blame you<3)

— kento nanami x f!reader x choso

c: 18+ only, smut, threesome, fingering, masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected p in v, creampies, anal sex, double penetration in both holes

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — THREESOME EDITION!

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god.”

The first voice is your own, the words spilling from your lips in a breathy whine.

The second belongs to neither you nor the man with two fingers lodged between your spread legs in the middle of the living room—but rather, one unsuspecting Kento Nanami.

Choso is entirely unperturbed by the interruption, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of your cunt as he turns to glance at the sorcerer, who has seemingly decided the hideous painting on the wall beside the couch is the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. 

“Gojo didn’t mention you were stopping by, Nanami,” Choso says casually, like he’s not currently swiping his thumb across your puffy, swollen clit. 

You can’t fucking help it—you moan. Just a little.

Nanami twitches.

There’s a jingling of keys as Nanami flexes his hand and replies through gritted teeth, “He also failed to mention he has a…roommate now.”

Choso curls his fingers, toying with the spongy spot that makes your breath hitch in your throat, and you have to bite down on your fist. “Yeah, just for a little while.”

There’s a lewd, wet squelch as his digits slide through the fresh gush of arousal dripping out of your tight channel, and Nanami coughs. “He borrowed a book from me, I believe it’s on the shelf over there.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Choso smiles.

Nanami’s on the verge of swinging around to face you, his lower half nearly turned around, but he seems to think better of it as he remembers the compromising position you’re currently in. “I can come back later.”

Choso slides a third finger into your cunt, and you gasp, fingers lodged in a death grip on the throw pillow. “Or you could join us, if you’d like.”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami says stiffly, swiveling toward the entry hall.

“Nanami—”

Maybe it’s a little unfair—the whiny, breathy way you say his name. But he freezes nonetheless. 

The thing is, Choso is well aware of the stupid little crush you have on Nanami.

Gojo is well aware of the stupid little crush you have on Nanami.

Everyone, it fucking seems, is well aware of this crush you’ve been nursing on jujutsu’s most begrudging sorcerer besides the man himself.

“—please,” you finish lamely, well aware that this may very well be the world’s worst proposition of all time.

But fuck if he doesn’t slowly begin to finally turn toward you, eyes going a little wide as he takes in the full picture of you spread open wide for Choso as he knees on the floor in front of you, your bra and panties left discarded on the floor, breasts on clear display beneath your unbuttoned top, your skirt shoved up and out of the way. 

As he approaches, you nearly pinch yourself—but the bite of Choso’s teeth against your inner thigh is enough to confirm that you’re certainly not hallucinating this fucked up scenario.

Nanami’s tie is loose around his neck, his glasses nowhere to be found, his normally tidy blonde hair finger-mussed after what you can only assume was a long day with Gojo. There’s a low chuckle as Choso rests one hand against your abdomen, raising his eyebrows as he feels the way you involuntarily clench down on his fingers while you shamelessly rake your eyes up and down the sorcerer. 

“Did Gojo put you up to this?” he sighs.

This time, Choso does outright laugh, shaking his head. “You should feel how much more wet she’s gotten since you walked in.”

You watch the way Nanami swallows, likely in the process of weighing out the situation and realizing he’s now in too deep to act like this didn’t fucking happen. So instead, he begins to roll up his sleeves, which somehow manages to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever seen.

Choso pats the spot on the couch beside you, and Nanami raises an eyebrow before settling down on the cushion, not at all subtle in the way he lets his palm drag over the now-tented erection at the front of his slacks.

“Come for him first,” Nanami tells you calmly, unbuttoning his pants and tugging his eye-wateringly large cock out like this is a fucking business meeting.

Without missing a beat, Choso ups the ante on the rhythmic plunge of his fingers into your wet cunt, using one hand to spread your legs a little further apart—just enough so your knee brushes against Nanami’s.

Normally, he might lean in and drag broad strokes of his tongue across your clit, or even slip a finger into your other tight, puckered hole, but right now, you don’t need any of that to speed up your journey to the edge of the orgasm he’s steadily been dragging you toward.

Because all you can hear now is the sound of Nanami’s spit-slick palm pumping his cock, which has the coil in your gut twisting so tight you can hardly breathe. Even Choso’s groaning over how goddamn wet you are, taking it upon himself to start stroking his own shaft as well as you make a mess of the blanket tucked beneath you. 

But it’s when you turn to look at Nanami that you’re well and truly fucked—because if you were turned on before, you’re positively cock drunk now on the sight of his exposed throat, his eyes momentarily shut as he tips his head against the back of the couch, your name a quiet groan on his lips as he fucks his fist.

You come so hard, you nearly sob, every muscle in your body tensing as your climax pours through you. 

And then Choso’s helping you up, Nanami’s arms wrapping around your waist as they both ease you into straddling his lap, and you can’t help but gasp at the feeling of the latter’s cock pressing lengthwise against your slick, sensitive folds.

“Fuck,” Nanami groans as you begin to rub your cunt along his thick shaft, one of his hands sliding up your side to cup your breast, thumb stroking at your peaked nipple.

“Want both of you,” you exhale, turning to look back at Choso, who’s still got a hand wrapped around his cock.

“Are you sure you can take it?” Nanami asks as he leans in, brushing a thumb along your lower lip.

You run your tongue along his finger, and he sticks it in further, groaning in approval at the way you messily suck at the digit. 

“Two holes are there for a reason, right sweetheart?” Choso breathes against the shell of your ear, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, one hand caressing the globes of your ass.

You shiver, and Nanami’s lips find yours.

Some day, you’ll think about it more—the dizzying precision of Nanami’s kiss, like fighting isn’t the only place where he can find a weak point to bring someone to their knees. But right now, all you can comprehend is the feeling of Choso’s finger teasing at the rim of your ass, the sound of the bottle of lube sitting on the coffee table popping open.

Nanami’s grip on your hip is firm as he positions his cock at your dripping entrance, and it’s a battle in and of itself not to immediately let your greedy cunt take him in all at once as he eases his way into your tight hole.

When you’re finally fully settled, his shaft balls deep inside of you, he kisses you languidly as he uses both hands to help lift you as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you, the stretch of Choso’s finger in your lubed-up asshole getting deeper all the while.

“You feel so good,” Nanami groans, leaning in and dipping his head down to run his tongue along the swell of your breasts.

“Isn’t she so goddamn tight?” Choso breathes out, and you whimper at the spark of pleasure that zips down your spine as he scissors your ass open with a second finger. 

“So fucking tight,” Nanami rasps, mouth sliding across yours again, but this time he takes your lower lip between his teeth. “And so fucking pretty like this.”

Heat curls white-hot in your gut, every single nerve ending in your body strung tight like a rubbed band. “Choso, if you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna—”

It’s certainly not the first time Choso’s fucked you in the ass.

But either way, you’re not prepared for it this time—not when you’re already so full of Nanami’s fat cock stuffed in your cunt, eyes threatening to brim over with tears of pleasure as he kisses you hard and swallows down the moan that crawls up your throat while Choso eases his cock into your other hole.

It feels like both a second and a lifetime, waiting until Choso’s buried to the hilt, both of them murmuring “Good girl” and “Doing so fucking good for us” and “Could come just like this” as you tremble and whimper under the force of the heat blazing down your spine and between your legs.

And then they both start to move, and pleasure explodes inside of you, your mind going blank as the entire space of your existence is reduced to the euphoric feeling of having two cocks pumping in and out of your pussy and ass at the same time.

“She’s not gonna last long like this,” Choso tells Nanami.

“Neither am I,” he pants, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks up into your wet, sloppy cunt.

“Tell him where you want us,” Choso murmurs against your ear, hands roaming over your bouncing tits.

“Inside, inside,” you moan, the sound halfway to a sob just as your orgasm punches through you, an intense tidal wave of pleasure flooding through you and gushing all over Nanami’s dick.

“Fuck,” he roughly chokes out, his thrusts growing sloppy and uncoordinated as you come on his cock, and he responds in kind by plunging in deep one last time as he moans, ropes of cum spurting inside of you.

Choso’s hands join his atop your hips as his orgasm hits him a moment later, his cock pulsing as he fills your ass to the brim with his hot, sticky seed.

And well, as they both try to help you to your feet once you’ve all somewhat caught your breath, fuck Gojo’s brand new living room carpet—because there’s no saving it from the copious amounts of cum that immediately begin to leak out of both of your used holes, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor below.

spicy sleepover masterlist

[cmdrfupa]

Mother knows

1.04k words

I’m trying something out. Working my way into a Gojo piece. Spoilers ahead. Thank you for reading!

The garden had always been a place of quiet reflection, but tonight it felt heavier, weighted by the unspoken tension in the air.

Gojo’s mother sat with the poise of someone used to bearing burdens, her spine straight, her hands clasped delicately in her lap. You sat beside her, mirroring her posture, though your fingers betrayed you, nervously tracing patterns on the hem of your sleeve.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t necessary. This was the first time meeting your husband’s mother in person but there was a mutual understanding in the silence, an unspoken acknowledgment of the storm looming on the horizon.

Finally, she broke the quiet. “I used to come here with him when he was just toddling,” she said, her voice carrying a wistfulness that felt foreign coming from someone as composed as her. “He would sit right there on the grass, picking flowers, and tell me which ones I had to keep alive forever. ‘You can do it, Mom,’ he’d say. ‘You’re a Gojo too.’”

A soft laugh escaped her, but it faded quickly, replaced by a pensive look. “I always wondered if he knew, even then, how much weight the name Gojo carries. How much the world would demand of him.”

You glanced at her, her words striking a chord within you. “He must’ve known, even if he didn’t understand it yet,” you replied, your voice low. “It’s part of him. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair. Not to him, not to you.”

She turned her head slightly to look at you, her gaze sharp yet searching, as if trying to unravel the layers of your own thoughts. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. Finally, you nodded. “Terrified,” you admitted. “Not because I doubt him. I know what he’s capable of. But even Satoru has limits. And this fight... Sukuna... it feels different.”

Her eyes softened at your confession, and she reached over, placing a hand on yours. Her touch was cool but steady, grounding you in the moment. “It’s different because it’s not just about the fight,” she said quietly. “It’s about what happens after. What happens if he wins and loses a piece of himself in the process. Or worse.” Her voice faltered, just for a moment, before she composed herself again. “It’s about the things we can’t control. The things that even Satoru can’t control.”

You tightened your grip on her hand, drawing strength from the shared vulnerability. “You’re right,” you said. “No matter how scared I am, I refuse to let him see it. He’s always carrying so much—he doesn’t need to carry my fear too.”

His Mother looked out at the tranquil ripple of the pond nearby. “When he wrote home and told the high council of the family he’d found someone to marry, I felt an inkling of relief for the first time since he was born.”

She studied you for a moment, her lips curving into a faint smile. It wasn’t a smile of amusement but one of approval, of recognition. “I see it, you know. The way his eyes soften when he looks at you. The way he jokes a little louder, stands a little taller when you’re around or even speaks of you. He may never say it outright, but you’ve given him something no one in this clan ever could—a reason to keep fighting that isn’t just about duty or power. You’ve reminded him what it means to live.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and luminous, like the first stars appearing in the dusk. You can’t help but glance down, feeling the full weight of what she’s saying.

“We never had much a connection. He was sent off for schooling the moment the world said so. Training and duties for a child.” She shook her head ever so gently. “But I knew he was going to do what was best.”

She looked back out to the pond. “He might be strong but you are stronger. You saw what he had to deal with and what he had to become and stuck by his side through it all.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I think I get it from him,” you said, your tone light but your words genuine.

Her smile widened just a fraction, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of pride in her expression—not just for Satoru, but for you. “You had it before you met him. You’re just the first person he felt comfortable being malleable around.”

The moment hung between you, a shared understanding settling into place, when a familiar voice broke the quiet.

“Did I just catch my mom smiling? To someone who isn’t me? This has to be a historic moment.”

Satoru stood at the edge of the garden, his hands in his pockets and his signature cocky grin plastered across his face. The sight of him, so casual and carefree, was both a comfort and a stark reminder of what lay ahead.

His mother’s composure returned in an instant, though her tone held a trace of humor as she responded. “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. It’s not that rare.”

“Sure it isn’t,” he quipped, striding over to join you. He dropped onto the bench beside you, leaning back with a languid ease that belied the tension in the air. Leaning in to kiss your cheek then his mother’s. “So, what’s the topic? My amazing childhood? My stunning good looks?”

“Your stunning arrogance,” you shot back, unable to resist the jab.

He smirked, but there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked between you and his mother. “I leave you two alone for five minutes, and suddenly you’re ganging up on me. Guess I should be flattered.”

Despite his teasing, there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—gratitude, maybe, or relief. He might not say it out loud, but you knew he appreciated this moment, this connection between the two people genuinely cared for him the most. No abilities, no strength. Just his existence.

As the three of you sat together, the weight of the coming battle didn’t disappear, but it felt a little lighter.

For now, that was enough