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satocidal · 1 year ago

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Jealousy Jealousy” — Geto Suguru

Synopsis:- He dislikes you and you dislike him, rather simple an ordeal—except it’s not. Not when you’ve got one bed to share and your rival is Jealous for your attention—not when he can’t get enough of hearing your moans.

— word count:- 7.7k words ||Masterlist||

— A/n:- I wouldn’t consider myself a writer if I didn’t write a “rivals to lovers x one bed” trope so here it is. Poor jelly Suguru who’s also a little nasty but we like em like that. Au! Where Suguru doesn’t leave btw. Also smut starts after a long while💀

— Tw:- !Porn with Plot!MDNI!AFAB! Reader x Geto Suguru; perverted suguru!+perverted ex(?) hints at masturbation (both male and female); cursing (a lot of it); use of sex toys; geto is a thief (lmao); geto calls reader “doll”; spanking; dom! Geto to sub! Geto and then back to dom! Geto; oral (m and f receiving); pussy spanking; implied blackmailing

Kyoto and Tokyo.

Housing the two sister schools, they also housed three of the strongest sorcerers. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto and you—and irony lay bare that two of you did not like each other.

At all.

Insufferable he’d call you and exasperating you’d bounce back. And that was all their was to it—for the longest time and that’s what you two showed as well.

An eye roll here and a prodding middle finger there, you couldn’t even remember a time when you’d actually said “hi,” to him—considering your first meet was at the Goodwill event during a round.

So your annoyance was all too understandable when you walked into Principal Yaga’s room to find him lounging on the couch—ears stuffed with his earphones listening to shit you never liked.

“Yes sir?” You prompted, taking a seat across the man while Suguru didn’t even do so much as look at you.

Idiot.

“There’s a mission,” his eyes closed in on yours, “before you begin, don’t,” he was quick to add—“He’s already agreed to it and it has been decided that you two are the best suited for it. I will take no further questions.”

You find yourself raising a brow—no further questions? And he obliged?

“Why?” You asked regardless—“there are perhaps a hundred better pairs than us—why?”

“Your grade, your promotion and his to special grades depends on it,” the old man answered quietly, all too aware that his piercing gaze worked much better to shut you down than his words—“Now, any and every arrangement has been made. I just need you two to leave by tomorrow morning,”

Tomorrow morning? You could feel the gears in your brain turning fast—you would’ve asked more questions too, had the silly little Ijichi not dropped by, nervous and clammy, “Sir?” He’d called out—“You’re needed in the grounds…” voice timid, thoughts perhaps more so but nothing compared to your form left alone with Suguru Geto.

A silence.

Long silence.

“Why did you say yes?” You let out finally, frustrated to have that question knaw at your mind so long— only to be answered by another silence. Of course, he would play you just about now of all times.

You found yourself gritting your teeth— feet moved up close, his eyes staring at you all the same— “well?” You questioned again.

An eye roll passed, a sigh escaped, “Don’t go about getting ideas princess- I’m not keen of doing it with you but a promotion is promotion nonetheless. You should be glad you’ve got me helping you around,”

“Excuse you?” Your words very quick—sharp, “you’ll help me around?” You barked out a chuckle, “Don’t you go around being the princess with ideas Geto—much rather be helped by pigs than you,”

“Because pigs are the ones saving your ass every mission?” He quirked a brow—“Implication being you’re equable to pigs?” You smirked.

Your smirk only widened as he exhaled sharply, “Listen,” he began, “I want that promotion and so do you. The least we can do, for this one time is help each other. It’s a mutual goal, don’t fuck this up,”

You stared at him.

A brow raised, thoughts ran quick as you scanned his face—annoyance settling deep inside for his too stood sharp—“Fine,” you muttered, “For the mutual goal it is.” You heard him sigh—in relief? Mayhaps.

It was his turn to smirk now, “My my, she’s actually thinking this time—miraculous—”

“—Shut up,” you interrupted his words, “What exactly is the mission?”

He gazed at you quietly, “Hm, well, simple really. Someone like you—”

“—what is it?”

“Information extraction, and a side thing for this local deity who’s apparently a special grade. That’s theoretically all,” he paused, frowning, “it’ll take efforts,”

Your eyes narrowed up at him— “Don’t worry—I’ll figure it out.” He mumbled to nobody in particular.

You found yourself scrunching your face up at him, “Does it turn you on or something? To act like you’re the best?”

“I am,” he grinned,

“At being an idiot,” you added—“and it turns you on at least,” a wink he passed with that—your gag followed next.

What Suguru wanted, Suguru got.

Never a question about, never an objection either—you should’ve known.

“Let’s just call it a night Geto,” your voice bleak, tired—“So what if it’s shady? I know the owner,”

His eyes trained themselves upon you carefully, “It’s a fucking brothel y/n,” he paused, “and I know it’s well past 12 and you’re tired but pull yourself up a bit—”

“—I can even land us a discount,” whiny, your brows furrowed you pouted.

A grumble and a sharp exhale- Suguru didn’t do so much as grunt as he tossed you over he shoulder- silencing your yelp as he shushed you, “I’ll carry you- lead the way,” evident with his voice, he was tired and so were you.

You grinned and squealed internally, softly whispering directions in his ears as he lead the way through the foreign state.

You watched, and watched—eyes wandering onto his bun- the one he’d hurriedly made to help the heat, onto his fingers which held you close—grip tight to make sure you wouldn’t fall—it was embarrassing sincerely to be paraded around such but maybe, just maybe, with him, you liked it.

“Where the fuck is it?” A grunt- you smiled bashfully- “Think we walked past it some 5 blocks ago—” a giggle fell off your lips, his fingers pinched your sides- never playfully.

“The fuck are you-” an eye roll, an inhale, “you know what? Amazing,” and just with that he jogged back- the path retraced wher you came from, the shy pointing from the kids once again.

Five extra minutes you cause him, searching for the hotel- or brothel as Suguru deemed it—“Is this it?” Both your eyes watching the multi-story building in front of you.

It wasn’t half as bad as you’d thought it’d be—pretty decent, Suguru realised.

“You’ve called the owner?”

Before a ‘yeah’ could fall off your lips—clammy fingers gripped your waist—“Y/n!” A voice boomed, the owner- an old ex of yours.

Face flushed you faced him, “Oh hey,” you mumbled hesitantly, “Long time Hm?”

The man in front of you only smiled wide—a creep, Suguru muttered under his breath—sliding a firm handshake for the sake of formality.

Your ex chuckled- unsettling, “And this is your new man huh?” Your face flushed- Suguru’s did too— but he held his own—eyes narrowing at his words.

You however, chuckled nervously—and when you’d told Suguru you knew the owner, he thought, he never should’ve listened to you.

“Not uh…” you looked down, “not boy-friend—just uh, just—” you move to face him, a silent plea for help—“Colleagues,” he nodded.

“Just colleagues, yeah,” a nod you passed- relieved just a little.

The second guy only ever raised his brows, “Sure,” he smirked—“Come inside,” he ushered- hand, suguru noticed, too close on your back.

“Don’t tell me,” His face hidden behind his palm he spoke, “You said you knew him,”

“I do!” You prompted, helplessness evident in your voice—“He’s forcing you to fuck him,” Suguru’s expression a deadpan.

Your shoulders dropped-“He’s not…forcing me,” you bit your lip—“The only other option is us sleeping together geto,”

His eyes widened incredulously, “And that’s what you should choose—far more safe,”

You stared—of course you couldn’t sleep next to Suguru—not when—just no.

He sighed—“Really are an idiot,” you groaned internally- for the first time, agreeing with him, “Be glad I’m literally next door—call me at any moment that pervert-”

“-Geto!”

He shrugged—a fact was a fact nevertheless.

And now you lay awake, still, motionless in the cramped bed—so close.

So close the man’s body lay, the one you used to know all so well—the one which disgusted you now.

“Y/n,” he called for the nth time—your mind getting all too hazy to answer—fuck was that his hand on your thigh?

Mind a mess, eyes barely open and jaw slack- you got up, not a word—none at all as you pushed your way through the room.

A knock—and then two more.

He was fast to open the door, a glass of wine in hand, brows raised in amusement—“And I was correct?”

Rage all over you, a hand pushed him away—“Shut up,” his brows only ever raised higher.

“Bother me with a drink?” It didn’t sit as much of a question — a glass poured for you all too soon as you settled on his couch.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, grabbing it with both hands, fingers you found to be shivering a little too much.

Eyes narrowed, he watched you, taking a seat beside you, “Pray tell,” he began, “Did he say something? A fight between the lovers?”

A hint of jealousy did you catch? No- of course not.

You played with your silence, and his mind—just guilty eyes meeting his, as you sipped.

“Don’t tell me,” he whispered and you pin point a sudden anger inside—“Geto,” you mumbled, “it’s fine,” you but your lip.

Suguru’s brows furrowed, it most definitely wasn’t, surely you knew that—right?

A sigh left your lips—“Sit down please,” your fingers tapped the place beside you. He nodded simply- taking a seat beside you quietly, closer to how he usually would.

Another sip—“will you just sit here or…” his words were quiet, an initiative to not make you uncomfortable, more than you already were.

“This was the reason we uh,” you paused, eyes boring into the ply wood, “back when we broke up you know,”

Another nod- nothing to offer and when you didn’t say anything else, he tilted his head, “That’s it?” You snorted.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t a 3 hour documentary,”

“Thank everyone it isn’t, I was afraid I’d have to hug and comfort you and all,”

“Disgusting,” and you both chuckled—settling into your seats. Maybe someday you’d open up more onto your ex to Suguru, something in his eyes told you that you could. But as of now, just sipping on the off-brand wine seemed alright.

In a momentary silence you two sat in, nothing too comfortable but nothing otherwise either—until a moan was heard.

Your eyes snapped to him and his to you—a bewildered “What?” Spilling from both.

You’d have asked ‘did you just moan’ had the series of moans and grunts not continued and instantly, all too clear it was.

You see, the brothel had walls paper thin—pitiable were the customers of course—and this specific night, the both of you.

“Isn’t it your room?” Suguru questioned—a chuckle included, “What the hell,” you responded back- disgust prominent on your expressions.

Another chuckle, and another until the both of you sat there giggling all together- “If that’s how he fucked you, i am very sorry,” he grinned, “no wonder you used to be so frustrated all the damn time,”

Your jaw fell first, “Shut up?” You laughed, “Was not frustrated at all,”

“Nu uh doll, pent up sexual frustration is very real—I’ve seen it in Yaga and Gakuganji-”

“-Don’t you dare compare me to him,” your voice was shrill- now above the grunts in the room beside yours—shriller than the pathetic moans your ex was paying the girl to make.

And just so, two hours the two of you spent together- shy glances and touches shyer still- but enjoyable nonetheless.

It wasn’t the first night you’d drunk together, no, and such nights were always different—the grimaces that Suguru and you wore around each other during the day were always thrown away—smiles and grins, hidden glances and soft touches—nothing more, nothing less.

It was true that you guys barely ever talked when drunk—but it was all too obvious. But tragedy lay in the way you would simply forget, you would too and he would just the same. The nights were spent flamboyant, silly flirts and sillier jokes—all means to just adore each other As to what Satoru would call it.

Shoko on the other hand called it your idiocy, the sheer annoyance masked her expressions everytime she’d watch Suguru and you tumble around each other the next morning—as if the night before never happened.

Two hours spent laughing— every once a while Suguru would gaze at you, you’d do the same. It wasn’t ever weird, no.

If respectful could be the word to define any sort of staring, that would be how you did it.

Were curses and insults only thing to befall both your conscious mind and lips for each other? Yes. Would you two actually bare your life for each other? Satoru and Shoko had always guessed a definite yes.

And just so, flitting eyes captured between his, soon jumped to his clock—“It’s 12 already,” you mused, his eyes never leaving your face—“I should head back,”

“To that pervert?” He shot instantly, “Had he been good at sex I’d understand but he’s toxic, perverted and finished in 5 minutes—bet he didn’t even get the whore to cum,”

A drunk gasp escaped you as you smacked his thigh laughing—“You’re so drunk,” you mumbled, head lolling to the side, only to end up on his shoulder—it fit perfectly.

His eyes gazed down at you, “You’re drunk too- don’t go to him. Sleep here tonight,” and had you been conscious you’d certainly have fought the idea- ‘I can defend myself’ you’d have retaliated, which you of course could’ve but not like this. Not in your drunk state.

For the saying goes all too true, drunken words are sober thoughts.

So you nodded pliantly, head resting on his shoulder still, you nodded while he watched.

So close- just a mere inches and you could—just a little more booze and perhaps.

He noticed a lot in this position, your tinted lips—the warmness of your breath and body—your messy hair and insignificant attempts to not stare at his lips—he found you adorable.

“C’mere,” he called as he slowly got up- careful to not cause you discomfort, “you can sleep on the bed,”

“And you?”

A side-shrug he passed, “I’d be no better a pervert if I crept in beside you, you know,”

“It’s your bed,” subtle desperation- his drunk mind couldn’t catch —“I’ll be fine,” and just sometimes you had to curse the gentlemen to be all so gentle.

“Night,” you muttered as a yawn went past you- eyes following his form, tidying up his room to sleep on the couch you two just sat on—“G’night idiot,” he muttered back.

And in your sleep you wouldn’t realise of the little hurt he lay down with—choosing that scum over Suguru? Thoughts such replayed in his mind over and over; he was simply aching, for your touch and feel—drunk words were a sober man’s thoughts but what of the drunk thoughts never spoken aloud?

The morning came by fast- rays bright enough to break off your slumber, you let a yawn pass by.

Usually, a surprise would’ve caught you, to find yourself in his bed but somehow- just for once, last night didn’t lay forgotten — last night’s memory embedded in the corners of the room with empty bottles lying around—suguru’s short tossed on the couch as you heard the hum of a shower.

Unsure of the prospects, you lay just there- enveloped in the certain warmth of the duvet- until the water stopped.

The door opened swift, and to mock the gravity of situation, you close your eyes in the pretence of sleep—and you were partially glad you did for soon enough the soft thud of a towel falling entered your ears—naked Suguru stood, the view shielded only by your eyelids—embarrassment yours grew.

And in that moment, you fought hard to not open your eyes- the scent of his body wash all too inviting—citrus? You made a not to tease him on that later.

“You can stop pretending, I’m decent now,” your face grew warmer—you maintained your silence.

An annoyed exhale he let out—“When I call you dumb, instances like these are exactly what I’m referring to doll,”

You scoffed- “For someone who has the audacity to walk in like that, butt-naked, you shouldn’t talk at all,” your act let go just a second after his words.

You got up from the bed—yawning and stretching, Suguru’s eyes trailed up your form as your loose shirt lifted slightly along your hands—“The water’s warm right now- might as well go shower,”

You scrunched your face, “In your shower?” Before you could add further argument, “Your other option is simply that fucker,” and you knew he’d won the argument again.

“My clothes aren’t here,” a last resort you had and you grabbed on it desperately- he tossed you a clean towel, and one of his shirts—“You can wear these inside, I’ll just go grab your luggage right now,”

You rolled your eyes- he was relentless, stubborn entirely too much and you shook your head, having no option but to comply.

Suguru was quick—all too quiet as he slipped into the room beside, a musky scent heavy in the room.

In bleak darkness he reached out his hand, to pick up what he assumed to be your luggage—lips turning to gag instantly when his fingers felt something slimy on it. Each and every plan to annoy your ex left his mind quick as a disgusted suguru quickly picked up the bag beside the mess he’d touched already- rushing outside, back into his room.

A sigh left his lips—disgust painted over his face as he wiped his fingers with a napkin—the other hand settling down your bag—oddly heavy, and prodded out at certain angles, his interest was piqued.

Curiosity, he blamed it upon- focused fingers reaching out to zip open your bag- he knew it was wrong but then…something told him, deep down, you wouldn’t mind.

He heard the water falling come to a stop- he’d be quick anyways, hefty fingers reaching inside your bag—suguru felt so bad but a smile guilty adorned him all the same, especially when his fingers came in contact with the silky fabric of your panties—red? he grinned.

Fingers prodded deeper still, products of your daily use coming in his hand until finally he found it—aha! His grin widened, fingers slowly pulling out the little toy in hand.

And shame would befall you all too deep for in his hands was your pink little vibrator—he chuckled—how pathetic, and on a mission? All the more. Suguru’s thoughts raced, faster than ever—dirty, he felt in the best way possible until a sudden voice managed to creep to his ears.

A moan- again, different from last night—the source being all too different too.

From the bathroom he realised, face contorting to one of amusement as he thanked this time, the brother for having walls paper thin.

And as his fingers stuffed your items back in—pocketing the vibrator and leaving a single note in your bag, to be found hours later. Just so he was done—material worth stealing in his pocket and ears pressed against the door as he listened intently, finally the a moan of his name falling from your lips.

Thus he found, it truly was nothing more than that sweet little cry of his name from you that made him all so hard every argument, with your face so close to his- flushed red with annoyance—it was amusing really, of how you threatened to kick his ass while all he could think about in moments such was to pin you hard against the wall and pound yours.

Your fingers moved onto close the shower- assuming the thud of the door to be a sign of suguru leaving—a sigh escaped you as you propped yourself down into the bathtub.

Your fingers worked quick—you had to be, for Suguru could be back whenever and the last thing you wanted was for him to hear you such—and you let your head fall back- fingers quick to gather the slick around your slit.

It was simply desperate, you supposed, the way the thought of seeing him naked got you all so worked up—his scent and the prospect of wearing his shirt.

But a mind so restless could only be helped so much—the inkling of him leaving the room had your legs spreading instantly, lips bitten down to control the moans.

Pathetic, you called yourself—getting off of your rival—off him, of the way he carried you the day before, hiked over his shoulder—pathetic.

More pathetic were the moans and slight groans you found yourself unable to suppress, fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace—your clit glistening with no attention as you imagined him teasing you.

A gasp escaped your lips—eyes widening at the moment as you imagined him between your thighs—he’d mark your inner thighs with kisses you knew, leave you begging for him too.

“Fu-uck,” you muttered, the pressure rising up—“m’close,” you mumbled to nobody in particular and amusing was the fact that you’d left your clit untouched as you knew Suguru would too.

Desperate sighs and moans you let go—trust in the assumption that he wasn’t back yet- he couldn’t be.

“Please,” you begged—perhaps to yourself for more stimulation—“pleasepleaseplease,” your voice a whisper as a finger you thrusted and pulled out sharp—finally a finger rolling slowly around your clit.

“Fuck,” you drew out, as your moans fought to become louder—“fuck m’lose su’” your eyes widened again, mouth turned o-shaped as the pleasure you chased finally arrived.

“Mm!!” You moaned and finally—“Fuck please Suguru!” Let out as you came on your fingers-not loud, just enough to tip him over as well as he sat listening outside your door.

Your fingers looked for it in a frenzy—you were sure you packed it—“Ready?” You head Suguru call out.

“Wait!” You shouted back—“I can’t find something,” Suguru grinned, “A brain is it?” Your door opened just as that, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Look for it later,” he mused—eyes watching your hands buried in your bag, total concentration tossed into it—sweet.

“The mission ain’t waiting for your pleasure-satisfaction, I mean,” he chuckled- your eyes narrowed.

“Whatever,” you grumbled under your breath—walking outside, basking in the warm afternoon warmth and your ex’s gaze.

“He’ll join us,” you whispered—“wouldn’t let me leave without well, threatening to kick us out,”

Suguru scratched his neck—nerves racking and a thought constant to as why he hadn’t punched your ex yet.

“Sure,” Suguru sighed—to your surprise, “we’ve to be in a club anyways, gonna maintain our distance from trash,” you chuckled beside him—a slight twinkle in the way you looked at him.

You walked ahead of the two boys—aware of the unmoving gaze on your form—a small black skirt—a smirk you held, hungry eyes—theirs.

“How far is it?” You made sure to question your Ex, not once did your body tilt towards Suguru on the slightest—cruel.

“Just about here,” he replied, providing no help, but you smiled nevertheless—“Thanks babe,” you giggled.

Suguru merely watched.

And he watched the entire evening—potently, as you did the exact opposite of his entire plan. He watched as you swayed your hips—with the target himself.

He watched as you grinned and giggled, letting your ex roam his hands onto your ass—he wanted to punch him right there, but he watched.

He watched as you watched him, ass grinding back into your ex, a grin on your face—and he watched as you downed three shots right after your bit of the mission was done and he watched as you draped yourself around your ex.

And as the fact lay, You weren’t really sure to what you were doing, or why.

Suguru Geto had never meant anything exactly, more than a rival of course- and a drinking buddy- and the person you admired- and a classmate you wouldn’t want to lose- and yes. Nothing more than all that, ever. So the sudden need to spite him? It was new- exhilarating, some may say.

So you wove the game- an open invitation shoved into his face; Never the watcher however, he finally moved, jaw tightened and annoyance all so present on his face.

And this time, you watched- you watched as he made sure to drug the target all too well, maintaining eye contact as he let the girls sway around him too—you watched as he slid his hands into the girl’s skirt, the one he danced with—planting a soft kiss on her neck. And you watched simply, wondering how that could’ve felt.

But a game only remained one so long until you stepped it up a notch- turning around to kiss your ex, placing deliberately, his hand on your ass- a tease.

“Get away,” he spoke through gritted teeth, a shove to your drunk boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Hey!” You yelped—“The hell?” Your eyes wide—as if innocent.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me right now,” he muttered dangerously—eyes boring into yours—“Let’s leave,” his hand reached up quick, grabbing onto yours to pull you away.

“Woah there pretty,” you called out, brows raised, “who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

Silence—exactly.

“You can leave if you want Geto,” such condescension laced your voice, he was almost hurt.

“You’re drunk,”

“So are you,” you snapped back—he wasn’t—you knew he wasn’t.

He blinked once, then twice, gaze persistent—begging you to come; your hardened into denial.

He sighed one last time—“Get fucked bitch,” and before you could reply, he was gone.

Gone as that—leaving you in a mess of your own emotions and an idiot of an ex-boyfriend.

A three day mission, two days gone by, the larger partial of the mission dealt with—you crashed onto your ex’s bed the second night, no courage found to even meet Geto’s gaze after the scene at the club.

The smell of booze was intense, your mind slightly tipsy on its own accords. With a confused heart you scrolled through your Instagram, bored.

The snores of your ex—and the girl beside him provided little entertainment—the thought of Suguru Geto in the room beside did nothing to help, you wanted relief. But all to no avail for your vibrator was ‘lost’ too and the energy to chase your high was not your preferred option.

Your eyes found its way to the clock- 12:02 a.m. it was late—‘would he be asleep?’ You wondered, fingers adamantly rubbing slow circles around your nipples—again, desperate.

Eyes closed, you fought urges to call him—just to tease of course, you could pretend to be drunk after all.

And so your thoughts fought quick—to lay bare without him or with him, eyes staring at the screen if your phone—ring!

Your eyes widened- the caller id read ‘Bangs’, you mentally convulsed. You stared at the second for a decent ten seconds—11, 12, 13–you knew he cut it any second—14, 15–“Hello?” You mumbled quick, raspy.

“Awake?” He inquired- “No,” you replied.

You welcomed his silence on the line—“Come here,”

“No,” you echoed—“don’t wanna talk to you,” you mumbled- mind hazy to how you couldn’t help the fingers swirling around your hardened nipples.

“I’m not calling here to talk,” his voice was sharp—annoyed—a silence you offered him this time.

“You think I don’t notice doll?” You could hear the smirk, “You’re probably wet just by the sound of me,”—you were—“so needy,”

“You’re the one who’s calling me Geto,” you snapped, “Really needy of you,”

“Maybe I do need you—keep rubbing, slowly, touch yourself doll, just slightly,” your mouth ran dry—you obliged without a second thought, “and maybe I have something that you need too—tell me though, can your silly little ex even touch you as good as you imagine me to, even in his dreams?,” a grin—a shit-eating grin, on his face you imagined. Such a fucking thief.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered through your side of the line, an airy breath leaving you as your fingers dipped beneath your shorts—as you did exactly what he told you to—“Sure thing,” his voice polite with just the best undertones of condescension, “Just a request then, doll, check if you’re wet please,”

You could practically moan at his voice and words—you were wet, nimble fingers prodding cautiously, “I’m not,” you lied- a moan bitten back, “Seems like your needy cunt really does need the pretty pink vibrator to get ya turned on Hm?” Husky, he sounded.

“Give it back Geto,” a whine, “Come take it,” a challenge.

And however could you deny a challenge from him?

A knock, and then two more—just like last time.

The door opened just as quick—brows raised, “Yes?” He questioned as if he hadn’t just teased you through the phone 5 minutes ago—you eyed him, “I believe you stole something,”

He grinned, your frown widened—“Come inside,” his hand gently found its way onto the small of your back—the gravity of the situation slowly befell you, you regretted nothing.

You walked slow, as you’d last night, “Where is it?” You questioned, brows furrowed, “Where’s what, pretty?”

Fingers clenched you stared at him, “Enough with your games Geto—hand it the fuck back,”

You watched as he slowly walked around you, a slow pace as he ended right behind you, bending slightly to grab the soda can—something easily possible without managing to glue his dick to the round of your ass—your face burnt.

“My my, such a dirty mouth you got there doll,” you needn’t turn back to imagine his expressions, “Maybe I should punish you- you’ve been bad all night anyways,” your blood boiled at the whisper of his words- “I wouldn’t have to, had you not been the idiot you are,”

His fingers were quick on your waist, spinning you to face him—even without a surface to be pinned against, you felt trapped under his gaze.

“So mean to me,” he mumbled—eyes bearing into yours, a subtle smirk, “There are other ways of getting into a guys’ pants you know,”

Eyes narrowed you scrunched your face, “Rather fuck a-”

“-a pig before me,” he rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, I know doll,” a sip of his soda he took, “But that’s not what you were doing this evening Hm?” His fingers were quick to grab your chin too, urging you to look no where but his eyes.

“Tell me doll,” he pressed, “What were you trying to do Hm? Grinding against those guys’ cocks? You’re that cock-hungry? A slut?”

Red- you saw red as his words registered in your head—a shake of the head was all to be offered, “Such a pity I had to deal with this way because you can’t control yourself,” your eyes widened, shushed by a shake of his head—perhaps, reassuring.

“So tell me, what were you trying?”

You stared, like a kid caught stealing- you could only stand there guiltily, answer on the tip of the tongue, but too ashamed to mumble it out.

Suguru simply hummed, “Too embarrassed to accept it doll? That’s fine—maybe me sending pictures of your little toy or the recording of you moaning today in the morning—”

Your ears rang- no way he heard that- your mouth hung open, “You sound like a pretty bitch in heat you know,” it was simply insulting, to have him say all this- but it was in the way it felt good—in the way it made you wetter.

“Don’t,” you managed, he grinned further, “Don’t what doll?”

You rolled your eyes, seemingly unable to get out of your predicament, “Geto please,” finally—you could see he’d mentally relented already, “Please give me back my…” you paused, swallowing, “please uh- my, my vibrator, give it back please,” your face flushed.

His gaze remained fixated, “Don’t think that’s what it is, c’mon dummy, you’re smarter than this right?”

Jaw tightened, you stared at him, “Geto please, can I have my- my uh, my pretty little pink vibrator back?” The way you bit your lip so hard, Suguru was sure it would bleed any second—adorable.

He clapped right then, like a proud teacher—walking closer to you, “such an obedient doll,” so close hope stood, his breath lingering upon your face, eyes observant to every breath and sigh—smiling when he noticed your relaxed fingers.

He knew you liked this.

“Nope,” he chuckled—“don’t wanna hand it back yet,” you wanted to scream at him—you couldn’t of course.

“And you haven’t told me yet,” he continued, “why were you acting like a brat Hm?”

And somehow accepting this was worse than accepting the fact above- “I wanted..” he stared hungrily, “I wanted your attention,” everything in that moment felt more interesting than his expressions—he found you all too cute such.

“Aha,” he smiled wide, “You wanted to suck my dick so bad pretty?”

“Not everything is about your dick,” you flared—“But this is, isn’t it?” He sneered—and you quietened down again for it was.

It escalated quickly here on, his hand moving to grope your breasts—“Can i kiss you?” He murmured against your skin and as much as you wanted to humble him- to not feed into his ego, you nodded.

With his lips latched onto the supple skin of your shoulder he pulled you closer still—so very close, a you let out a soft moan, having accepted it was a lost battle to fight him anymore.

“Eager,” he gripped your jaw- making you face him again, “Aren’t we?” A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest—fingers betraying his composure too, in the hasty way they unbuttoned your shirt.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You mirrored his expression- smirking all the same as you unbuttoned his.

“Shut up,” he muttered, a simple command—but you’d be fucked truly if you listened to him of course.

“Do it yourself,” you grin- already pushed underneath him—“Aren’t even gonna tell me to stop? Thought you came here to get something? Or maybe the slut really did just want attention,” smile, condescending—and he did shut you up.

And so there you were, pinned underneath him- hungry lips searching every inch of you, mapping your body in just a certain way.

“Had I known,” he grunted in midst the frenzied kisses, “that you tasted so sweet—I’d keep you like this all the damn time rather than fighting,” you groaned against him, feeling his hard dick propped against your thigh—separated by all but a think layer of clothing—“You talk a lot, shut up,”

He let your words fall blatantly, mouth never parting from your face as it smeared around wet kisses all over it, letting a deep moan as your hands found their way into the tangled mess of his black hair, pulling slightly with every grind of his hips. A breathy moan escaped you too—His teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your ears—“this is what you want right? What you want all the damn time?”

You couldn’t care less about his taunting—until a sudden slap ended upon your face, jaw gripped by fingers—“Tell me, could those men have given it to you like I do?” Heat surged through you—pooling all the way into your abdomen.

A grin you passed and and nod—another sharp slap, it felt euphoric.

Slowly, Suguru pulled away, enticing a low groan from you—“get up,” he murmured and you obliged, black eyes staring into yours, “get up and on all fours,”

“Really gonna fuck in a brothel?” A cheeky grin you adorned, body working nevertheless, as per his words—with hands and knees planted on the bed, you gave a soft arch to your back.

The clink of his belt entered your ears, the low shudder of his clothes thrown away—“Since you love acting like a prostitute, it would only make sense, right?” A hand reached to pull away your shorts too, save for the little black thong you wore—a smirk on his face as he admired the view. His fingers were soft in the way they explored—touching and prodding every inch of your back, resting just a little too long at the curve of your ass.

Suguru geto was simply cruel in the way he administered the pleasure on you- handing you a little and taking away a whole lot for the moment his fingers came close to your clothed cunt, the moment your sensitive core could feel the slightest touch, he was gone. All too aware of the wet patch on your panties, you dared not question a thing.

Body shifted to face you, he kneeled on the bed too—your eyes widened slightly, scrolling down to the length of his cock, it was pretty you had to admit. A decent length with a girth that you knew you would have you crying later—an angry pink-ish tip welcomed you, pre-cum leaking over it.

“Go on,” he commanded, “not gonna put your whorish mouth to use doll?” And normally you’d have reciprocated his words- but just the way his hands gripped your hair, bunching it up into a ponytail of sorts- you knew he was playing. You inched closer, hesitant eyes staring up at him as you shyly licked the tip, it was salty, nothing that you truly minded.

You gulp- uncertain lips as they wrap around the top, an experimental flick to his tip you passed- a hiss escaping his pretty lips, grip tightening on your hair.

“Come now doll,” he sneered, “don’t go all shy over me now—run your mouth the way you used to suck up for that ex of yours,” you pass him a glare- mouth pulling away from his upturned cock entirely—he chuckled.

“No lie right? After all, you were begging to sleep with him doll, cozied up beside him yeah?” All the while he kept pressuring your hair, a soft cry you let out.

“You act very smart yaknow,” he rubbed his chin—“Try that again,” and with no choice but to comply — you open your mouth and insert the tip of his cock, your jaw loosening to accommodate the familiar girth of his length protruding from your oral cavity to the walls of your throat. Geto hissed at the swirl of your tongue on the underside of his dick, his free hand now on the top of your head with tufts of your hair in his fingers. "...mmhmm, this is how you should use that mouth doll, not in all that chit-chat you do,"

And if you could, in the moment you only wanted to bite his dick off- it would’ve been hilarious, had he not been holding onto the pictures and recordings—and you suck as you could, the precum’s taste all over your tongue while his grasp on your hair tightened— fingers roughly pushing your head to bob up and down.

It simply felt disgusting to be treated this way, like his slut- like his toy and only worse was the wetness between your legs that couldn’t seem to stop growing.

“Shit,” he breathed out, “Ah— shit shit, jus’ like that doll,” it felt Dirty—but so good, to have him falling apart at your touch, even if he held the control, “s’good for me yeah?” Raspy, he sounded-hips bucking into your mouth and before you could register what was happening, his fingers pushed your face to his base, his cock prodding deep down your throat, tears were quick to pool around your eyes.

And just then, he pulled out, leaving your mouth feeling hollow—finger quick to pump his shaft, lubricated by all but your spit—a string of saliva joining it still to your mouth. And right before you, Suguru came with a sharp hiss, “A-ah, fuck,” he groaned, cumming all over your face and chest—paining you in his mess.

You watched him like that for a second, unspent, eyes huge as you instantly get to suck on his thumb he shoved right into your face.

“Good girl,” he murmured— “So good f’me,” he grinned, he wasn’t done yet- not until you’d be too exhausted to even move.

He eyed your form, on all fours for him like a true slut, his eyes only held adoration as he watched his cum stain your face—his eyes, however, we’re quick to take note of your drooling mess soon.

He stood behind you now, face level with your clothed pussy—“How pathetic,” he grinned, “You got so fucking wet by me using your mouth doll?” It was the way he said it—making the statement sound so innocent and yet, “Or was it the call? You got all so wet by just my voice? But then again, should’ve known—”

—smack!!

Your body lurched forward with the sudden force—a cry escaping your lips. You heard him chuckle, “such a tease, you have to be punished right?” A shake of your head he offered, nothing against his predefined course of actions.

Another spank he lay down—lips biting down onto suppress your moans—“I’m talking to you doll—fucking answer me,” another spank, you couldn’t help the pleasure the pain from his palm provided.

Quick enough, his belt was grabbed- grabbing your arms, he shoved your form into the ass-up-face-down position, classic.

“Sorry,” you mumbled helplessly—aware of your bare ass being exposed to him as he slowly pulled down your panties.

“Fuck doll,” he bore, “you’re fuckin glistenin’,” you knew it and the fact that you knew made it all the worse—just so another spank came crashing down, a rough squeeze he offered this time too, “think I should gag you with these eh?” The cockiness all too prevalent in his voice as he pocketed your soiled panties.

A whimper you let out at his words—needy.

His eyes stared at your core, “Spread your legs for me pretty,” and even that small murmur seemed sweet to you as you obliged quickly—he chuckled.

“So obedient for me, you’re far better when you’re like this you know,”

“Savour it while it lastssss- oh” your words interrupted by a dega of his fingers down your slit—filthy.

Quick to inhale the scent of you— he spanked you again, “only use your mouth to moan and scream for me or to tell me to stop ok?” You nodded, head pressed into the mattress, heart racy.

And in that moment—the power handle shifted just a bit as Suguru moaned wantonly, nuzzling up his nose between your folds—for just in that moment, he let you guide him. A tentative tongue swivelled through your folds—lapping onto it like he was hungry, and perhaps he was top, for your attention and praise.

“Fuck- right there yes,” you moaned hazily, the grip of his fingers tightening around your thighs—sure to leave bruises, he sucked reverently, as if worshipping you in this state and form.

He didn’t tease you anymore—he couldn’t, for as much as he wanted to see you cry for him, for his touch—he was starved. And he wanted to show you too, that even in your palm he treated you better than any guy ever could.

“Mmm su!” You cried softly, mouth hanging open to just let out out moans and cries-“jus’ like that—s’ perfect,” you arched your back more for him—letting him better access to your hole as he whimpered against your clit—“So so good for me Su,” you mumbled mindlessly as His moans against your slick cunt vibrate you to your core, as he greedily laps you up, tongue-fucking the precise spot that you praised him for finding until the coil in your stomach tightens, and you brace yourself against his shoulder.

“Like that?” He groaned against your cunt, pulling away slightly only to insert a finger suddenly, “feels good baby?” He questioned, spitting onto your pussy and rubbing it all over your core messily—another finger inserted, he stretched you out slowly.

“Could your boyfriend have done this Hm?” You took note of the green in his voice—“of course he couldn’t—nothing could right doll?” You nodded hastily, too focused on chasing your high until—smack! Another spank to pull you out of it—you whined.

“S’tight doll—not even your fucking vibrator yeah,” slowly—the slight buzz of it entered your ears—eyes widening.

The hum only ever got louder as he brought your toy closer to your core—chuckling as you clenched around still air—“so desperate—who do you belong to Hm?”

Silence you offered, not even a moan as he rubbed the vibrator around your core—he grinned devilishly, “Now is not the moment to play games doll—” you groaned at the touch of the vibrator.

“Oh?” He smiled, “don’t want it? Isn’t this what you came for in the first place?”

Another swift smack—this time on your pussy, you clenched and cried all together—“Ah!” His fingers curled up inside you—“I’m talking to you—Mm! Yeah- talking to you doll,” he grunted, watching you fall apart—another sharp spank on the same spot had tears building up in your eyes again.

“Who does this slutty pussy belong to? Who do you think about when you cum doll?” You never wanted to feed his ego but in the way, he cruelly pulsated his fingers inside you—teasing your clit slowly with the vibrator you couldn’t help it.

“You,” you breathed out- “Fuck s’you—all you,”

“Scream my name doll, let your ex know it too,” and just then he pulls his fingers away too, and the vibrator—latching onto your clit, his tongue again, swirling and swiping—until, it was there.

And all in a moment, it hits you like a wave—pleasure washing all over you as you cum all over his tongue—shuddering and shaking through it, riding his tongue out as you did so.

If you could look behind and spot him, you’d be all too pleased I assure you, with cheeks flushed he kneeled behind you, lips swollen and covered in your cum.

“Shit,” he groaned after a moment of silence, his and yours, “Pretty sure you woke the whole hotel up with your moans ya know,” and just like that, he was back at his usual self—“Shut up,” you mumbled, moving your arms to remind him to untie you.

He was quick to settle you back into a sitting position—propped against his chest you lay, head resting on his shoulder—“You want something? Water?” He inquired, concerned eyes boring into yours, you shook your head, he nodded.

You sat there a moment, “It’s 1:30 already,” you mumbled, just like last night—“I should go,” he grinned again, “I would, had your ex been a better fuck than me,” you giggled at his words—“Certainly more entertaining,” you gingerly spoke—“Liar,” he chuckled.

“And please,” his fingers teasing your nipples now—slow, steady circles, “I’m not letting you go until I’ve made you cum at least thrice more,”

“Suguru!”

“And now you say my name?” A deep laughed rumbled as he held you close—“uh- suguru,” you looked at him closely, “Can you delete those…the pictures and all?”

He chuckled again—already aware of your angry gaze the moment he replied, “my doll really is dumb yeah? You think I would care enough to film you when I could cum at the sound of you moaning?”

“What the fuck Geto?”

All of this work is original and entirely my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

Taglist:- @rizzmin @isentsworld @gojoismybitch @todorokies @playboicartina @myrand0mfand0mbl0g @kazoomas @spaceisfarfarawayy

@immurrsed @illogicallyx (because a- for credit purposes and for the encouragement 🛐)

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mrsackermannx · 2 years ago

Text

˚ ༘ *ೃ༄ ❝ COME BACK TO ME…❞

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: gojo’s been plotting to get you back ever since you broke up.

୨୧ word count: 4.7k

୨୧ content: gojo satoru/reader, smut, no-curses au/office au, infidelity, exes to lovers, afab reader, light angst (strategic marriage/ breakup mentions), praise kink, porn with plot, love confession, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc), creampie, pussy-slapping, squirting, sprinkle of degradation, slight exhibitionism.

୨୧ author’s note: gojo brainrot finally gave way to some writing hehe, still getting used to characterising him so feedback is appreciated angels <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Don't shit where you eat," they say. They say that dating your colleague is never going to end well. However, even the most stoic people have a penchant for such relationships, not to mention the secret hopeless romantics.

Workplace romances can make even affairs appear heartwarmingly wholesome. After all, there was something about trudging up stair after stair when the elevator was too full to them smiling at you just a desk away. Their voice fond as they offer you a sunny "Good morning."

That person who never forgets your favourite vending machine coffee, who pats your shoulder and tells you 'you're doing your best,' who lends you their umbrella, who opens up to you over a beer after overtime. Who notices when you get a haircut, whose eyes are seldom on their computer screen but on your lips.

Not that you'd ever been unfaithful, not yet. But you'd heard countless stories. Girls talk, after all. You didn't judge, yet the point was although workplace romances could be wholesome and even sexually thrilling. They were sensational and exciting until they were over.

Until that person no longer stays with you through overtime, bitter memories of you chugging vending machine coffee, swapping candy and chips together and then spit just like you and Gojo always did. You definitely never told anyone how many times you fucked on the desks of the colleagues you both thought sucked, especially not after you'd broken up.

You were together for a while, and although you couldn't say it out loud because it was still too painful, you missed him. A lot. In fact, you spent most nights, fist screwed up at your sides, eyes blurring in the darkness, questioning if there would always be that void he left that no one could ever fill.

Though, breaking up didn't cause the type of animosity that made people scurry from rooms when you interacted. Instead, it confused the hell out of your colleagues. It hadn't even been half a year since, and you and Gojo didn't appear to hate each other at all.

But the pain lingering in your heart ached and was annoying and inconvenient, like a stubbed toe that felt sore and tender for weeks and weeks—but in your case, months. However, Gojo was hardly being subtle with his efforts to ever so secretly win you back at every opportunity. He didn't mind playing the long game. He was going to be your last.

All of you at the company came from important families in high social circles, marriage and dating. Love. It often came down to strategy, which was the only reason you were dating Miyano Haru, a Kyoto University graduate! CEO of a cybersecurity company!

Guilt gripped at your gut as you yawned at the thought.

Your families were shooting for a marriage ceremony during next year's cherry blossom season. But until then, Gojo wasn't slamming the brakes anytime soon.

Whether that be surprising you with your favourite lunches, leaving tickets for movie screenings, galleries, or museums on your desk, or sending Google calendar invites to restaurant reservations or spa appointments via your work emails across the office floor. With sweet messages like,

Gojo Satoru has sent a "Spa day pamper package for two for this Friday.”

Surprise! You look tired this week baby. Let's go here Friday, yeah?

Ps: You still look pretty, though.

Just like you were still fucking dating.

So today, when you're pitching a marketing idea in the monthly meeting, and Yaga cuts you off. Gojo cannot help himself.

Yaga was a great man, someone Gojo was grateful to for many reasons, but fuck was this man old-fashioned and unaware of it. He refused to see your potential because he was eternally sceptical of the efficacy of women's ideas.

But you had the best ideas today. Gojo smiled because your ideas were always the best and that’s why this decision was so easy. He could fondly recall your rants about Yaga after every monthly meeting where you'd complain about his blatant misogyny; even Sukuna would let a reluctant chuckle loose to the show.

All of you in the canteen at your table, Shoko, Utahime, Nobara and Maki at your side, growing passionate about gender pay gaps and audacious men at your company and then the world over.

Nanami always said the right thing, and so did Higuruma, Yuuta and Choso. Gojo decidedly took the credit for Megumi being so eloquent and respectful. Inumaki was outrageous at times, and Yuuji was a lover of all people and argued fiercely for both sides.

Those times were always fun.

Yaga peered over his glasses, "Why don't you expand again on how you plan to execute this idea, Reader?”

With one hand typing idly at his laptop and the other seating his chin, Gojo sighed so loudly all the eyes in the room cast to him. "Reader obviously has the best pitch for this project."

He grinned as Yaga's knuckles grew white and he humphed before his voice sharpened, "So, are we really gonna make her explain it again?"

"For once, even I agree with him," Toji added.

Gojo winked as he looked up at you, and you felt yourself melt a little, even under the icy breeze of the conference room's AC.

Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara huddled together under the oppressive communication Gojo and Yaga's eyes were engaging in.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, "So, what are you waiting for? Give her the project."

Nanami offered you a small smile and nodded before his expression soured, and he spoke before Yaga could open his mouth to protest. "I, for once, also agree with Gojo. I think we should open this pitch up for a vote?"

Choso raised his arm, "Me too. I think it's just what we need, in fact."

Maki nudged Yuuta and Inumaki before confidently booming, "I volunteer our assistance on the project!"

Albeit a little flustered, you bowed and thanked the room as Yaga reluctantly signed the dream project of the company to you. Sure, you were ecstatic you'd finally been recognised for your hard work and dedication, but you wanted to kill Gojo.

What didn't help was the aggressively obvious effect he had on you still. Sure, you had a new boyfriend, but Gojo didn't care. So that's why you found yourself lingering outside of his office door at 9pm because you knew he wouldn't care one bit. Like that man ever did overtime, you tsked.

Gojo had been playing a game with you, knowing you'd finally relent, that you'd come to your senses and stop denying yourself of what you really fucking wanted. "Be selfish."

Everybody you'd asked today had told you he'd stayed in his office all day. So yeah, he really was doing this on purpose. His light was on, and he was baiting you, and you hated how easy it was for you to take it.

You knew he wanted you to barge in there, all flustered and mouthy, so he could shove you to your knees and fuck your throat open.

Your boyfriend Miyano was sweet, he could talk about his feelings, and he didn't run away from emotional intimacy like others had. Like Gojo always had. But your family had set you up with him even though your shattered heart was still just that. Shattered. Your heart had been reduced to fragments— to a puzzle that only one genius could solve, he wasn’t prepared to give anybody guidance in the matter either. After all, geniuses couldn’t explain how to do the things they found easy.

And although you were the one that ended things with Gojo, it hurt all the same.

There was nothing wrong with Miyano per se. He came from a respectable family, one your family could bear you marrying into; though the Gojo clan would have been amazing, the Miyano clan wasn't terrible either.

But you never wanted your family to arrange a relationship or marriage for you. You fell for Gojo instantly and hard. You loved him like you never loved anybody else. He thrilled you, challenged you, and made it seem like the world was too small for you both and that you could see it all when you stood at his side. He made everything and every day exciting but had the vexing ability to make you feel safe and at home all the same.

Gojo Satoru was irreplaceable in every facet of the word, in his work, friendships, and relationships. As fickle as he could appear, he was the first to call in a crisis and someone you could wholeheartedly depend on.

But Miyano was sweet and emotionally forthcoming but…entirely too normal. You didn't yearn to peel back his layers one by one and didn't care much for his childhood stories, unpopular opinions, or core principles. But you treasured the few times you’d sat with Gojo, pestering him to tell you anything deeper, anything that no one else knew. Watching with sparkling eyes as his voice grew so quiet you had to follow his lips until your eyes blurred instead.

But it was rare he shared anything too personal with you. He had trouble with it more than most. Some nights, although you were sleeping in the same bed, you felt miles apart.

Gojo had a wall with everybody else, like a layer of infinity that meant nobody could really touch him or delve deeper. They only saw and knew the surface that reflected back to them like a mirror. No one could truly ever get close.

But it wasn't supposed to be the case for you, was it?

A fond and familiar laugh yanked you from your reverie, "Did you come to thank me? Because you can thank me by going to dinner with me tomorrow."

How was he larger than the door frame? You all but scowled as he leant down and tapped his cheek. "I also accept kisses as a form of repayment if you're willing," he said silkily, a jaunty grin on his lips at your expression. “With interest.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you huffed, wilfully ignoring the growing heat ping-ponging between your bodies. "Why did you do it?" Your brows knotted, "I wanted to get it on my own, Satoru. And my pitch was strong enough. I didn't need your help."

He threw his hands up and yawned obnoxiously, smoothing the back of his hair down, "Well, what can I say? I'm a doer, not a talker."

You huffed, “No, I'm sure you're always talking."

"You got me there, but" he checked either side of the corridor before he looped his arm around your waist and yanked you into his office. “Game over.”

"Satoru, I-" Your voice fell into a whimper as he flipped you against his door, his lips ghosting your earlobe as he caged you in.

"Maybe it's because I know you like to hear my voice," he whispered. "I know you like being talked through it. And, I know you didn’t need my help, we just needed a little push.”

We needed a final straw.

You swallowed, fists clenched at your sides as his body suffocated yours. Heat quickly crawled up your cheeks as his large hands slid slowly down your sides, the familiar smell of his cologne igniting memories from the last times you smelt it so closely. Kissing down his throat, across his collarbones-

"What are you doing?" You finally mustered, your voice a breathless squeak. Seconds passed, and the tension blazed and kindled, refusing to be extinguished into silence. You didn't dare turn around to see him enjoying you like this.

"Nothing, nothing you don't want me to do," he said in a lilting voice, hitching the hem of your skirt up half an inch. "You've always been so vocal, so I doubt you'd lose your voice in a time like this, would you?"

"No," you hissed, curbing any further speech in case you fucking stammered.

"Don't worry though, baby. You're easy," he scoffed, "and you never stay quiet, not with me.”

“Oh fuck you.” You gasped as he shoved his knee between your thighs to part them.

“Oh I will. But if that wimpy boyfriend of yours is doing his job, then I shouldn’t find your panties soaked in a minute, should I, princess?"

A breath passed, and then he hitched it up a little further, resting his chin on your shoulder to taunt you more. "I see the way you look at me, baby. I know you and that look in your eyes. It tells me all I need to know, princess."

His hand caressed your quivering thighs, brushing your stomach and pausing at your chest. He gripped one breast before the other before it settled upon your throat, and he tipped your head back.

His lips travelled down your temple, to your cheek, and to your neck, where he spoke, "Hm? Ignoring me isn't quite your style. Isn't that why you came here today?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, and then you knew you were truly fucked. Watching as he pulled away with a grin spreading as slow and molten as melted chocolate.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he whispered, blue eyes alight when you turned and showed him the blown-out lust glazing your eyes. "There we go, baby, that's it. Gonna kiss me?"

You nodded, already too far gone. His hand cupped the back of your head, and he met you halfway in a slow, sensual kiss.

Your fronts drew together, and he shimmied up your skirt until it became a corset. Then he cupped your cunt, the pads of his fingers trailing feather light. Your vision hazed, and your fists curled tighter into his shirt.

Your features were contorted beautifully with lust. "Do not tease me right now."

He laughed as you scowled, his heart aching. He'd missed you so damn much.

"Oh? Want me to rub your pussy, baby?" he cooed, long fingers smearing the slick oozing through your panties.

"Now I know what you fucking came for,” he groaned breathily into your lips, waiting for your sign to continue. Your panties were the door, and his dumbing teasing movements were tentative little knocks. But he knew you liked to be stripped bare and fucked like you were his. This was just the final round of his game.

You bucked your hips forward, needing more, needing him. You clung to him, tugging on his tie, "Satoru, Satoru, more, please," you whimpered through his kisses.

"I only satisfy what's mine, but you're not mine anymore, are you, sweet girl? So what can I do? Nothing."

You eagerly shook your head in protest, on your tip toes, just to drag your mouth down his jaw and neck. "Even though this needy pussy is leaking all over my fingers, responding to me like I own her," he tutted, "but I don't, do I? Pretty girl."

You made a noise half-whimper, half-growl, palming him through his pants until he hissed and then broke his feigned amusement from just how much you were riling him up. "I am yours, Satoru, always, always," you panted.

"I know that baby, but I need to know if she still is." He yanked your panties up so roughly the fabric strained against your clit and made you moan so lewdly you quickly covered your mouth.

"Needy girl," he said lowly before he drew his hand back and slapped your pussy. You moaned even louder, falling weakly into his chest. But you hardly fell far, as he grabbed your face in one hand and leant close.

"You like it when I slap your needy little pussy like this, baby?" His smile moved a millimetre as your eyes darted to his long, pretty fingers. "Want me to bury my fingers inside it till you come too? So you can stop being so needy?"

"Please, Satoru."

"Then show me, show me how much you want them," he whispered, eyes shooting down between you both as he started to circle your clit, not daring to touch it.

"Show me you're dying for it, and we can forget about all of this mess, can't we? You've just gotta show me who knows this pussy best.” The growing gravel in his voice turned the words into ragged commands.

In raptured submission, you yanked aside your panties and guided his fingers, back arching against the door as you ran them back and forth against your soaked cunt. Your breaths finally flew fluidly through the air, like his touch was what your body needed to convert the carbon dioxide.

His jaw grew slack at the sight of you, getting yourself off on his fingers, clumsily rubbing your swollen clit against his fingertips, breaths huffing from your nose in the exertion.

He leant into the beautiful image of you, moaning in your ear as your slick drowned his fingers. The slick wet sounds of your cunt as you run them back and forth, rapidly unravelling him.

"Look at me," he demanded, plunging two of his fingers knuckle deep until it squelched when you didn’t comply in seconds. You let out a humiliating whimper. The pleasure of the sudden yet sweet stretch danced through every nerve.

He grinned, fucking his fingers inside, “You look so pretty like this, I should take a photo.”

"I can't…." You couldn't speak, not when his fingers were relentless inside like this, clenching and fluttering as he bullied that spot inside you.

But his name was a never-ending hot, sweaty mantra.

"Trying to give me scraps, huh? But you're mine," he spat.

"No, I need you, Satoru. I need only you, only you," you babbled.

The lustful look in your eyes catapulted him over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore, his palm granting sweet friction to your clit as he fucked you like the world was about to end. "I know you need it, baby. I've got you. I know.”

He tried to undo your buttons with his free hand but was too fucked out to do it, grunting for your help, so you did immediately. "Say the words, and I'll stretch this sweet pussy out with my cock after you come, baby.”

"I'm yours, please. Fuck me," you whimpered, your entire body shaking as pleasure climbed through your body, building until you felt the pressure about to burst. Your hands roamed his body, eager to feel him as you removed your own shirt.

But like an animal, he was all over you, kissing, licking, and biting as you squirmed close to your climax. His lips closed around your nipple, and your spine straightened at the softness until he bites it hard.

You yelped, but he only laughed, "Hurts? Don't care, baby, it hurts seeing you with that loser, the number of times I've had to come in my fucking hand because of you."

The lewd sloshes of your pussy grew louder, and Gojo delighted in how you were now dripping onto the floor. So, he finally granted you mercy, pulsing his hand until you came in wild thrashing waves that rippled violently through your body.

"Oh yeah? Did that feel good, pretty girl?" he whispered, tilting your chin to devour your breathless mouth. The press of his lips and the erotic flicks of his tongue were making you throb wildly on his fingers. "See, you do like it when I talk.”

He let out such an attractive laugh at your glare that you fluttered around him again. "Baby again? I'm not gonna leave this pussy just yet, let up, or I won't be able to get my cock inside," he hummed. "Isn't that what we both want?"

"Then do it. Put it in me." You spread yourself, and he bit back a moan. His eyes flickered at how you shook when his thumb brushed your clit experimentally.

Your brows knitted at the lingering sensation, “Please, put it in me, now."

"Oh baby, but if you keep squeezing like that." Gojo grew dizzy at how your pussy refused to let him go, helping you tug away his belt and zip down his pants. Hazy, as you let up enough for him to take his fingers out of your spasming cunt.

"You really gonna let me fuck you right here, huh?"

His eyes were half-lidded at the sight of you in your office heels, panties soaked and half-pulled down, shirt hanging limply and open, your skirt a thick black belt hugging your torso.

You were a mess, his mess, his pretty mess.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful." He knelt down, working down your panties with his breath uneven, kissing each knee as he worked them down each ankle and then tossed them behind him.

"Shall I tell you something?" he mused, running his hands up and down your thighs as he kissed and licked at the slick threatening to stick them together.

"Yes, tell me." Your hands slid instinctively into his hair as he reached your pussy and kissed it.

"I'll be honest, yeah?"

He was waiting for a shaky, "Yeah?" so you granted him one laced through a whimper, so he suckled on your clit in return before speaking.

“I can pamper you. Spoil you, fuck you, take care of you." His voice was almost hoarse, thick and affected by something other than lust—a different emotion.

"I know that Toru, I do."

"N' I can—love you, too," he murmured, voice so uncharacteristically small but soft like it used to be when he spoke to you at night.

You gasped. Gojo had never said those words, not once. "Satoru, I-" His tongue dove into your cunt, and you almost toppled forwards, but somehow in seconds, he was carrying you. Holding you close, you heard the unmistakable clatter of the desk's contents clatter to the floor as he pressed you down upon the cold surface.

His large arms locked your torso down, and he swiftly resumed tongue fucking your cunt, delving his fingers in and out. His heart was pounding with his confession and from your lack of reply. Though he knew he was fucking you so precisely and so perfectly that it was indeed impossible for you to respond.

Until you burst once more, hands tugging his hair, bucking your pussy into his face, greedy for not just more, but for him. For the actions to do more than the words you could barely manage, so overstimulated and so sensitive that you felt yourself heating up. But then, as your pleasure erupted, feeling your hot arousal coat your thighs, a garbled "I love you" ripped from your chest.

Satoru froze for several seconds, and then it was as if someone found the remote and clicked play as he somehow tugged off his blazer and pants all at once. Ripping his boxers down just enough to grab the base of his cock.

Peering down at you, hungry and lovesick. "Say it again." You giggled and tugged him down for a messy kiss, working off his shirt.

"I love you, Satoru, I love you. I've never been afraid to say it." Your body was still shaking from your blinding orgasm, and he loved every second of it. He loved that he was about to ruin you even more.

His cheek brushed yours as he folded your body, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, "I love you," he whispered hotly into your ear, "I want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

“I already do.”

“Yeah?” You moaned in tandem as he bucked his hips repeatedly, more of his cock easing in each time. Teasing you over and over, even though you were ready to take him, and he knew it. "Can you take me, baby?"

"Yes!" You whined, breath hitching as he tapped his cock against your cunt before he slammed in and filled you to the brim all at once. You both groaned, the sounds fading into seconds of soft relieved laughter. "Oh fuck, Toru, so good."

He moaned, voice shaky in your ear, "That's it, baby, you're so good. Take my cock. It's all yours. Take every single inch."

"Fuck Toru, you're so deep, too deep!"

"No, baby, feels good, doesn't it?"

Before you knew it, he picked you up and slammed you against the glass overlooking the city. If you weren't on the top floor, you'd absolutely refuse. But Gojo always did like fucking you in front of Tokyo at night.

"You can take it, baby, you can fucking take it, yeah? Cause you're made for me, so made for me," he panted.

"I can take it."

"I know you can." He sucked and kissed on your neck, no doubt leaving his mark on you, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took every slam of his hips. His stamina had always been otherworldly, never tiring, even as he fucked you standing up, hands sinking into the undersides of your thighs.

"Leave him," he moaned, not in the slightest asking.

Luckily you didn't mind, as you tugged him closer and parted your lips, "I will, I promise."

"Because you're mine, baby." His teeth were clenched, and he was groaning into your ear. Usually, Gojo could pace himself, but it had been so long, and you felt so good clinging to him like this, it was so close and so intimate. “I love you.”

So close, and so…

He blinked at the revelation that hit him like a freight train, he wasn’t going to run any longer. He liked the intimacy, he wanted to tell you all the stupid things you wanted to know now, he wanted to be close, he wanted you. He wanted to be everything you needed and wanted.

"Are you gonna come?" Your voice was so sweet it gave him an instant sugar rush, "Come in me, baby, fill me, Satoru. Need your cum," you whimpered. “Want it?”

"Yeah? You fucking do, princess? Haah-" He pulled out and shoved your front against the glass. You moaned at the switch, and as he spread you apart before thrusting back in, his large hands engulfing each cheek.

He lost it as you pushed your hips back on him, moaning and babbling, "Then let's have the entirety of Tokyo be a witness as I give my sweet girl what she fucking wants, huh?"

"Fuck, Satoru, feels too good! I'm close too!" you moaned, both of your bodies meeting in desperate sticky clashes of hips.

He whimpered, “We're gonna come together?"

You were gonna send him over the edge tonight.

"I’m so glad you came. Take me, take it, baby. Oh fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, making you take every single rope of his arousal. Lewd sounds tore from your throats at the sensation of him filling you deeply. After seconds of panting and melting into each other's arms, he still made no immediate moves to leave you.

He thrusted slowly to drive it deeper, "I'm not on birth control anymore," you squeaked. "But I'll take th-“

"Good. We're getting the family started just on time."

You giggled tiredly, "You're on board that fast?"

He squeezed you as he laughed himself, arms locked tight around your waist, "Do you wanna see the engagement ring in my desk or?"

"Satoru!"

He twirled you around to face him, "I was gonna fly you somewhere and propose, but I suppose the cats out of the bag." He pouted and got on one knee, kissing your knuckles, "You'll marry me, won't ya? Think of this as a practice proposal, though!"

You sighed, "God, you're a fucking idiot."

"Heh, heh." He opened his desk drawer and produced a small black box.

“I wasn’t joking, actually,” he popped it open with a proud smile, "Shoko kind of helped me pick it, said it was-"

It was beautiful, everything you’d always envisioned but had never described to him or anybody else.

A slow tear slid down your cheek, another racing beside it seconds later, “Aww! Are you that happy to marry me, sweetheart?"

"Go away! But…yes."

He put the ring on the desk and cupped your cheeks, "Yes, you're happy, or yes, you'll marry me?" he asked tentatively.

"Both!"

"Yay!”

You were half-expecting people to jump out with confetti because Gojo was just that ridiculous sometimes, but instead, you heard shrill knocking and then Nanami's voice, absolutely exasperated. "Gojo! You knew I was working overtime today."

He shrugged, grinning at you recoiling into his chest and half-expecting Nanami to barrel in, "Probably the most action you'll get all year!"

He stroked your cheek, full of adoration.

But I got her back.

He always did like grand gestures.

©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.

tagging: @afortoru @luvjiro @sixpennydame @4sat0ruu @fangirlings-world @romantichomicide95 @nkogneatho @p00pdev1l @utahimeow @hayakawasb1tch @yocoochbussin <3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #mdni banner: @fic-dumpster <3 #still getting used to writing my baby <3

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lani-heart · 6 months ago

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|| series masterlist || ACT II PREVIEW // previously

parings -> riki nishimura x readerg enre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> neglectment / rejection word count -> 1k

abstract -> sometimes certain sacrifices have to be made.

y/n's perspective

The party was fine… despite our hybrids glaring at each of us. Karina was his hybrid who… didn’t like me. While Niki… looked like he wanted to jump my new fake boyfriend at any moment.

Our parents thought it was a good idea because they thought we were a little too close to them. What I didn’t know was that he was in a relationship with his hybrid. We were both the same, and we’d both have to lie for the time being so our hybrids wouldn’t get the treatment we feared.

“I was thinking of having her join those classes!” he said and she scoffed. “I don’t think you should. I didn’t want Niki to but he begged for them” I explained and he nodded. “Yeah, listen to your shiny new girlfriend,” she scoffed, and he sighed.

She had every right to be angry… but I didn’t want to be physically involved with him.

“y/nnie I wanna go home” Niki begged and I did too but we had a quota to finish before leaving. “I do too!” Karina also added to her owner and I chuckled.

“Hey, Niki? Should we go to the street market after?” I ask and his eyes light up.

“Do you really need to ask?” he said happily as Karina was now trying to be comforted by her owner. “Do… you have to fake date that guy?” he asked and I sighed.

“Niki… my parents want to set me up in an arranged marriage,” I said and he stopped walking to look at me. “W-what?” he asked and I sighed. “At first they wanted me to marry Hyunsuk, but he refused thankfully and then he rebelled so they dropped it for a bit. But… They wanted me to start dating friends and they gave me this huge list of boys to see if I got along with them.” I confessed and he looked… upset. “Of course I said no,” I said and he nodded as he hugged me tightly.

“He was one of them… but it seems like we have a similar situation to him. There are rumors about him, and how he’s in a relationship with his cat hybrid Karina '' I said and he hummed.

“Trust me… I won’t let them actually marry me off. I plan to stall until I have my own income and then, you and me!” I said and he chuckled. “We should live in Japan,” he offered.

“We should! Then we’d be free to do what we wanted”

niki’s perspective

She wasn’t kidding when she said she got a list.

Hyunsuk, Junghwan, Chenle, Seonghwa, so many but I also know some of them would never agree which meant she would choose and her parents would handle it.

I wonder… What would happen if we ran away like Hyunsuk’s sister?

While looking through her messages with her mom about this stupid arranged marriage… I saw something. “You’re planning on studying abroad?” I am now excited to see Kyoto University as her option with her mom. She smiled… “Snooping now aren’t you?” she teased and I chuckled.

“Yeah… Chenle was telling me how his friend is currently in China and how it was a good break for her. Especially since she’s an art student, she’s getting over the artist block and I thought… this would be a good way to avoid the rumors and dating situation to get out of hand” she said and I grinned.

“Where should we go first?” I asked and she chuckled. “Hmm… we have a lot to do there don’t we?” she asked and I nodded.

This was different from visiting Japan with her parents… we had no supervision and could go anywhere without being asked where.

“I do want to do some shopping in Shibuya, '' she said and I chuckled. “I want to go to Akihabara! We have to see what cafes have events soon!”

We were finishing up this semester early so we could have a head start in Japan. So this was my last etiquette class… I wanted to say bye to Jake but I don’t know what happened for him not to show up.

“That dog stole your coat, you know?” I heard and saw the bird. My coat that I left? “He also ran… not like I blame him,” he said. “Hybrids have chips though–” “They do… but you can easily cut them out” he explained and I sighed. Hybrids who ran away often were found easily… someone could report it.

“I don’t think he’ll last that long. They’ll find him easily” he added and I wondered… “Why didn’t you snitch?” I asked and he scoffed. “If I could run, I would too…” he said as he went to his seat by himself. He’d run away too?

It sometimes made me realize… the hybrids here, the majority, were miserable. Under either adoption programs or… rich kids with too much money.

Jay was a bird hybrid… exotic here for Korea often found in North America. Some hybrids were happy… but most were miserable. Jay and Sunoo were examples that I knew of… the bird hybrid has a reputation of being a good and responsible hybrid but never could stay with an owner for more than a few months. He was a free trial hybrid so others could see what they wanted in a hybrid to have a reference and then dispose of him.

Whilst Sunoo was a popular hybrid known for his looks but also for how fidgety the fox was… his owner was one that I hated. When we were younger we often talked and got along but with how his owner became more and more bitchy y/n no longer associated herself with her and so I never talked to him again.

Even Jake I guess… he was so desperate that he must've been given bad news.

It made me feel guilty at times but it wasn’t my fault I was given someone who actually cared about me.

“Stop that before I tell your owners!” the professor said as she scolded a group of hybrids throwing stuff at the deer hybrid on the other side. “His antlers are in the way!” Sunghoon said… he’s another example of a miserable hybrid.

“Idiots” I heard as I saw the black cat hybrid who always sat in front of me say bored out of his mind.

Maybe… I just quit these classes?

ttaglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc @nikisvanillaccola @blossominghunnie @mheretoreadff @k1ttylvr @starzniiky @kibs-and-bits @b3tt7boop @in-somnias-world @lol6sposts @xiaoderrrr @jihyosgfremade @b-a-nshee-blog @mimisamisasa @katsukis1wife @eggomi @thunderous-wolf @tinyteezer

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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letters4moon · 12 days ago

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JJK - University/College!AU headcannons

Satoru Gojo

— Major: Physics —

• switched from business because it was too easy

• his family forced him into it since he’s going to inherit the family business after graduation so he made sure to switch out in secret

• he genuinely finds physics interesting

• was humbled at first but quickly gained his footing

• often debates with Geto about the topics discussed in his philosophy class

• makes fun of Utahime’s major by calling it useless but defends Geto’s with his life when she brings it up (would never admit that he kind of agrees with her)

• complains when Geto stays up late because his desk lamp is ‘too bright’ (even though he literally wears a night-mask to sleep)

• doesn’t like how Geto makes coffee so he goes to a café every morning (thinks Geto’s is too bitter)

• lures Geto to hang out with him by promising to study together (he never does and just ends up goofing off)

• attends all of Geto’s concerts and drags Shoko along with him

• very popular and has a whole fanclub of girls (a lot of the guys hate him cause of it)

• friends with all the frat guys but always declines when asked to join (thinks he’s too good for them)

• constantly at parties yet somehow gets straight A’s???

• obnoxiously coughs and covers his mouth anytime Geto and Shoko smoke (he feels left out but refuses to stoop to their level)

• hella rich but attends with a full-ride (wanted to use the money that his family saved on other things)

• shows off his credit card whenever he wants to impress a girl and ask her out

• forced to visit his family in Kyoto throughout the year (hates it because he’s usually forced to visit around the time everybody is off on break)

• drives a Genesis around campus (has a BMW back in Kyoto but he decided to be ‘modest’)

• is 100% planning to move in with Geto (and maybe Shoko) after college

• often visits the bakery Nanami works at to piss him off

• gossips with Meimei anytime she’s lurking around campus

• hates alcohol but drinks it anyway to fit in

• has TERRIBLE alcohol tolerance and Geto or Shoko always end up dragging him home (sometimes the two just give him apple juice mixed with seltzer as a placebo)

• once when drunk he accidentally wandered off into a neighborhood and threw up on Toji’s lawn (Toji wasn’t home and Megumi and Tsumiki called the police)

• organizes impromptu trips for the group and rents out luxury hotel rooms or fancy Airbnbs

• when nobody wants to hang out with him he’s out and about exploring the city and making friends with some of the local high schoolers

• goes to the nearest convenience store with Geto whenever they pull all nighters to buy snacks and binge watch the shows the two of them have been putting off (Geto pays for the Netflix + snacks)

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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7 Psychopaths: Yeonjun

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!yeonjun x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 2.1k

x Warnings: violence, blood, knives, guns, general criminal activity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, strong language (naturally), a smidge of rough sex but nothing crazy, misogynists and xenophobes get their karma quite painfully

x A/N: This is #1 in a series of 6 stories featuring members of TXT/ATEEZ/Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

| | Next Psychopath: Lee Know | |

This? This is bullshit.

You should be sitting first class on that bullet train to Kyoto right now, sipping tea as you watch the bustling streets of Tokyo fade into a blur of neon light. Instead, your ticket is ripped to shreds at the bottom of a gutter two countries over and you’re slumming it in the back alleys of Nowhere. With the exception of a few flickering streetlights ahead of you, it’s almost too dark to cast a shadow out here. “Too dark,” insists one of the drunken assholes trailing behind you, “For a pretty little thing like you to be out here all alone.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you count five of them. The ring leader, let’s call him Red Shirt, has enough liquid courage in him to lead the pack in announcing every filthy thing they’d do with you if you let them. You roll your eyes, pushing forward to your destination, dying to escape them and the unpleasant stench that the mugginess after tonight’s rainstorm has left lingering in the air. “She’s not listening to us,” teases Black Jacket, “Maybe she thinks she’s too good for you.”

The childhood trauma of rejection at the hands of an unloving mother flips a switch inside of Red Shirt that he’d know was there if he’d gone to therapy like his ex suggested and he’s charging towards you in seconds. Shoving your hands in the pockets of your long leather jacket, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for a confrontation that you aren’t even kind of in the mood for. There are much bigger things to worry about tonight. Much more pressing issues than Red Shirt and his band of sexually insecure misfits.

You reach the edge of the alley, almost clear of the group, when a hand slams down on your shoulder squeezing tightly enough to leave a bruise. “I know you hear me talking to you! Do you know what we do to girls like you around here?” Red Shirt hisses, venom dripping from his words. Grasping the handles of the switchblades in your pockets, you whip around, unfolding them at the speed of light and burying them in his shoulders. The flesh squishes like raw meat on a butcher's slab. You love to hear it.

Red Shirt drops to his knees, deep burgundy blood soaking through his shirt and dripping down his shoulders. The scream of anguish he lets out is enough to split the earth in two. The other four stumble back, the shock of their leader groveling in pain for likely the first time ever enough to make them want to shit themselves. You stare down at him, your eyes cold and void of any sympathy, “You know what I do to guys like you?” Twisting the blades, one of them nicks bone, making him whine like a wounded animal.

“Do you want me to show you?” you ask, smiling warmly, “Or are you gonna gather your friends and get the fuck away from me before I make sure you never use these arms again?” There’s an attempt at speaking. A croak, drowned out by the waterfall of tears rushing down his cheeks. “What’s that? I can’t quite hear you.”

“Leave. We. Leave” he manages.

It’s not the groveling that you’re used to but it’ll have to do for now. The blades ease out of his shoulders smooth as butter. His body hits the concrete hard enough that he nearly splashes water---at least you hope it’s just water---on your high-heeled boots. You squat down, casually cleaning your blades on his shirt. “If it makes you feel any better” you sigh, “Red is your color.”

“Do I have to talk slower so that you understand me? I Don’t. Owe. You. Shit.”

The words of the cocky American cooking up dope in the basement of this hole in the wall laundromat echo in Yeonjun’s mind. They call him San Jose for the time he spent in California locked away in a supermax prison. You learn a lot when you’re shoved into a cage in a strange new place with people you don’t know. And, for Yeonjun, English was one of those things. This American didn’t need to speak slower. San Jose understood him the first time.

The insult was just overkill which is precisely why he feels no guilt popping coins into the max load dryer the American’s currently folded into. The window's smeared with blood from the bones that had to be broken to wedge him in there to begin with. Messy but necessary. Beneath the stained floors, marbled with dirt, Yeonjun’s associates facilitate more bloodshed among the guards too loyal or too stupid to run before things got this bad.

“You don’t have to do this!” the American begs, suddenly confident in the lack of a language barrier, “Please! I’ll get you your money! I promise!” Yeonjun taps at the glass, watching the American squirm like a panicked fish swimming in poisoned water. “So sorry” Yeonjun apologizes, “I don’t speak English.” The press of a button sets off the buzzing noise that signals the start of a cycle.

Tiny green lights glow beside the options Yeonjun patiently selected. Cycle: Heavy. Heat: High. Door: Locked.

There’d been a point where this was all about the money. But now? If he handed it over Yeonjun would throw it into the dryer and let it burn right along with him. Hypnotized by the clanking of the American’s body as the drum makes its labored turns, Yeonjun almost doesn’t hear the front door creak open. You stop dead in your tracks when you’re greeted by the barrel of a 45 ACP pistol. I said he almost didn’t hear the door. Just almost.

You throw your hands up, more as a peace offering than a sign of surrender. “You aren’t gonna shoot me are you, Yeon---” “You don’t get to call me that anymore, X” he snaps, raking his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, “You’ve got 10 seconds to turn around before I pull this trigger.” “Yeon---” He turns to you, his left eye twitching, and cocks the pistol. “San Jose” you say in an alluring tone, taking baby steps toward him, “I just wanna talk. Five minutes. That’s it. Can you give me that?”

Yeonjun can hardly look at you but he can’t bring himself to turn away. Why are the flowers most likely to kill you always the prettiest to look at? He groans, his rage softened by the sight of your face after almost a year apart, “Five minutes.”

Bent over the wooden desk in the manager’s office, you dig your heels into the floor, desperate to keep your trembling legs from giving out. You could say that you’d forgotten what it was like to have Yeonjun’s tongue performing acrobatics inside of your tight pussy but that would be a lie. There’s simply no way to forget how talented this man is with his tongue. Your memory though, pales in comparison to the real thing, and experiencing it for the first time in a long time has juices dripping down your lush thighs.

From his position behind you, the second time you’ve had a man on his knees tonight, Yeonjun’s fingers press into the softness of your ass. It looks glorious beneath the teal overhead lighting. Flawless in every way. Just like everything else about you. The taste of you is addictive. Sweet enough to rot his teeth. He squeezes your ass harder, raising you up to create the perfect angle for him to swipe his tongue between the slickness of your folds. His tongue brushes over your clit, making you moan in ways he can’t help but grin at.

“Why me?” he asks between sloppy, eager laps at your slit, “What does your boss want me for?” Nails tapping on the desk, nearly scratching the cheap plywood, you arch your back at the tugging in your lower belly. “She has plans. Something big and I don’t---aah---question her. I just---fuck.” Your body collapses, a spark traveling through your veins like liquid fire. “I just know she wants you back with us.” Yeonjun rises to his feet, pushing your dress up further to reveal the small of your back. He kisses it with the gentle lips of a man born to be a lover and bred to be a killer.

“But do you want me back?” he asks in a rare moment of vulnerability. You groan, rolling over onto your back, hands covering your face. Spending time with him, talking to him, loving him, the entire experience of being with him had been one of the only things that made waking up in the morning worth it in a life like this. None of it was ever just about the sex, as amazing as it is. It was always about him. Do you want him back? Of course, you do.

The head of his cock nudges at your slit, smearing your juices through the delicate petals of your pussy. Yeonjun runs his hands along your curves, indulging himself in the nostalgia of nights like this. “Do you?” Taking him by the collar of his shirt, you drag him on top of you, kissing him passionately as you lower yourself onto him until every inch is buried within you. “I do” you whisper, the sincerity in your eyes swearing to him that you aren’t lying. You wouldn’t. You can’t.

The feeling of being wanted by you again, knowing that you’ve wanted him all this time, is a high unlike anything else. Your legs wrap around his waist, keeping him flush against you as he dips in and out of you. The ridges of your walls when you clench around him. The blood pumping through those gorgeous veins that travel up his shaft. It’s almost too much. You kiss his forehead, stroking the back of his neck, unsure if that thumping is your heart or the body in the dryer just beyond the door. “I missed you so much” he moans into your chest, licking beads of sweat from between your cleavage.

“Fuck me harder then. Prove it.” You pose a challenge that he takes on without hesitation. Pinning your arms over your head, one hand keeping your wrists locked together, he thrusts into you with a force that carries a certain finesse civilian men painfully lack. He doesn’t miss a single sweet spot, making every tiny movement count. Every sensation pushes you closer to the edge of oblivion---and the desk. You don’t even have to speak for Yeonjun to know you’re about to cum. Your body tells him. It always has.

That thumping? It was your heart after all, and it’s at maximum volume in your ears as you come undone beneath him. The death grip that your walls have on him, your moisture coating him, leaking out to make a mess of his pants, has him coming right along with you. The warmth in your belly as he fills you up has you silently begging him not to stop, your brain still too lost in ecstasy to formulate more than a few incoherent whimpers. If he had it in him never would but you’re milking him so well, draining him of everything, that all he can do is stumble backwards before you take his soul too.

“Fuck” he pants, his body propped up against the wall behind him, “You’re the devil.” Pushing yourself up, you use what little balance you have to get your clothes back together. You wink at him, throwing your coat back on, “But you love me.” Locking eyes with him, you help him fix his pants, teasing the rim of his tip before tucking it away, “I’ll see you in Berlin then?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world” he answers, lips hovering dangerously close to yours. You kiss him once more and his arms come around you, desperate to keep you here forever.

A cutesy ringtone blares as your phone vibrates in your pocket. You know by the sound of it that it’s your boss. “Answer it” he insists, kissing you one last time before turning you loose. With the phone in your hand, anticipating an interrogation from your boss, you march out of the manager’s office, ignoring the half conscious man with salami for skin hanging out of the dryer. “You be a good boy now, San Jose!” you shout behind you.

Yeonjun follows you out of the office, shoving the body back into the dryer without taking his eyes off of you, “You can call me Yeonjun again!” You can only laugh to yourself, disappearing back out into the night. You like that name better anyway.

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt au #yeonjun angst #yeonjun smut #txt angst #txt smut #chubby reader #plus size reader #thick reader

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yuesya · 1 year ago

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Shiki might not be in the same weight class, so to speak, as Toji, but in the same age au I feel like she would probably make up for that in sheer unadulterated rage, would this be a scenario she'd be able to do a black flash or two, would she be able to win, I know she might just be able to unwittingly stall but I can't stop thinking about Satoru assuming Shiki hates them and him coming to seeing her whailing on the guy who killed him, alternatively seeing her enter a fight they both know she probably won't win for him

His body feels light, when he wakes up again. Cursed energy thrums through his core, reversed and tingling in his limbs. The blood on his clothes makes the fabric stick disgustingly to his skin, but he's not bleeding anymore. He won't bleed again, not anymore.

Throughout the heavens and the earth, I alone am the Honored One.

Satoru opens his eyes.

The first thing that he sees is a dark blur -the unmistakable form of the man who'd cleaved him open with that strange cursed tool, then stuck a knife into his head. Good, he hasn't gone far. He's not going to have a chance to get the drop on Satoru again.

The second thing that he notices-

A white whirlwind, tumbling into a messy roll and skidding across the ground. Dainty feet plant firmly into the stone steps before the momentum is even fully bled off, and a white-haired girl promptly launches herself back in the Zenin man's direction-

Crimson splatters dot the ground liberally in her wake.

Blood.

That's... Shiki's blood.

... Shiki. Wait, what in the world is she doing here?? Isn't she still supposed to be in Kyoto? Why is she-?

The man roars. A powerful blow connects against the girl's side, and she's sent flying once more. Idiot, idiot. Someone with physical capabilities like that is a terrible matchup for Shiki, who requires close-range physical combat for her technique to be effective. Can't she see that? Is she blind? Doesn't she know that she can't-

The Zenin turns, and Satoru's thoughts stutter to a halt. There's blood dripping down the man's side, his entire right arm severed at the shoulder. And, on his torso... there's also a long slash that looks suspiciously similar to the injury that Satoru himself had sustained.

He... doesn't know what to think about it. Shiki holds no fondness for him, and the feeling is very much mutual. But even so, it's...

...

Across on the other side of the field, his cousin lands in a crouch, and her head snaps up. He's never seen her with that sort of expression before -usually, Shiki is either impassive like a porcelain doll, or wearing a look of faint irritation. But in this moment, there's a fierce snarl on her lips as she glares-

With only one eye.

... There's nothing but a bloody, gaping hole on her face, in the place where her left eye used to be.

Before his mind has even caught up with what he's doing, Satoru finds himself surging to his feet, Blue and Red building in his cursed energy.

#QA #Writing #so yeah #we have a moment of satoru and shiki v. toji #good old family bonding am i right #;;;#zenith of stars au #same age au

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aphicelend · 3 months ago

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Misaki Shirayama

26 y.o | 1.52 cm | Japanese | April 4th | Aries

(APH) Human | City Ver. | Colorful AU | BOX AU

Tags: #Art/HC tag | #Posts related to her | #MisAme

Wanted to do a profile for her here 💦 Misaki has been one of my fave oc's since 2012 and i'm having fun drawing her a lot again, and I love to put her in my other oc's stories 💃 so here's info of her hetalia AU(?

i wrote everything in spanish and im lazy to translate it properly so, google translator yay

| Personality

Misaki is a young woman with a fiery personality, she has little patience for stupidity. She is a hard worker, and likes to put effort into what she likes. She is also stubborn when it comes to opinions if it is not her way she will not do it, she tends to violence when someone bothers her. Her pride is something precious to her.

Despite this, when she gets upset she needs her time to calm down and then apologize. Even so, Misaki is a girl who cares about others, her way of showing her appreciation is through actions, especially cooking.

Socially inept, having lived surrounded by “nations” Misaki behaves awkwardly with other humans, for some reason she always feels distant and finds it difficult to understand them.

Having grown up with nations, Misaki did not develop “parental affection” or someone to consult her problems with, because she considered that Japan would not fully understand her.

He usually feels a constant feeling of loneliness, his heart is a hard shell that makes it difficult for him to let in emotions like love.

| BACKGROUND (Hetalia AU)

Strip about her background

In this AU, Misaki was raised by Japan who took care over her as she was abandonated. Her childhood was kinda chaotic, surrounded by nations of course she didn't grow like other kids, she felt distanced.

Japan tried his best to give her a normal life, of course he wasn't used to raise a kid. Misaki always wondered why did he took her? He felt lonely? She would never know.

She always had a sense of loneliness, a feeling of she doesn't belong where she is. Mother? Father? What's that, she only had "weird uncles"

Misaki was very problematic at school, her classmates teased her a lot and she answered back with violence.

Through her adolescence, she kinda developed a crush on Yao, and she was rejected, of course, the man only saw her as a little sister.

More about it here.

Time heals, she tried to moved on. On Uni, she meet a guy named Kazuo, they clicked and became a couple, Misaki thought that finally had someone who cared for her deeply, but no. The guy cheated on her. That was the point that made her close herself.

-> She lives alone in an old traditional house that Japan left for her, she works as botanic in a national park in Kyoto.

| Interests and facts

She LOVES gardering and plants. She has a traditional garden on her house and it's her first priority.

She's very good at cooking, Japan and China taught her very well.

Also Romano as shared with her some italian recipes so she could "learn something good"

Her way to show love is giving you food.

Her dream is to open her own restaurant.

One of her interests are kimonos, she likes to make her own

Favorite station is autumn, she loves when trees go orange.

Loves cats, and bunnies, loves cute things.

She likes minimalist clothing, plain clothes or stripped patterns

Her face may look annoyed but she's kind, and gets along better with girls.

She has been mistaken for a minor

Does she feel something for Alfred?? who knows.

She's just afraid to someone break into her heart and get too attatched.

| RELATIONSHIPS

I made this chart

| Music

Mostly vocaloid because i'm a weeb

Balsam / Misaki - About her loneliness

The Beast / Misaki - Her fear to open her heart

I'm glad you're evil too / Misaki - Her wish to find someone

Girl Pilot / MisAme - Their dynamic, Alfred trying to reach her but he can't

I can't stop the loneliness / Misaki - the song says it all lol, maybe her fear that its too late?

Hammer Song And The Tower Of Pain / Misaki - Pushing everyone away it's the best

MAD HEAD LOVE / MisAme - Their dynamic, they're idiots.

----

If you got this far here's some old misaki drawings, old hetalia? ocs? she used to have friends and now she's DEPRESSED.

2012 | 2014

#karuocs #karuocs misaki #hetalia #aph oc #hetalia oc #oc x canon #karudibu

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yanandreckless · 24 days ago

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Kenough With The Gray!

Fandom: The Gray Man

Pairing: Sierra Six/Reader

Tags: Bodyguard!AU, Flirtatious Banter, dollification proclivities if you will, Heiress!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Age difference (Reader is in her twenties, Six is 40ish)

Even the movie itself has a reference to Ken and I am a big fan of handsome men being Ken dolls so here we go.

“Don’t you ever get bored?”

You’d asked, adjusting the chain belt on the tiny pleated denim skirt. It hung low and you kinda wished you had a hip tattoo. Humming in consideration, you lifted your gaze from your midriff in the full length mirror and found his gaze already locked on your face, one eyebrow slightly cocked. He was chewing gum in that languid way he always was.

Feet spread shoulder-width, left hand holding the wrist of the right at groin level. He’d always stand like that or with arms weirdly crossed, holding his biceps instead of tucking them like a normal person. Probably some weird bodyguard thing.

He’d come into service one morning, unexpectedly, along with a voice message from your father, whom, at that point, you hadn’t seen in 3 months and 17 days. He was to be your new bodyguard, Daddy wished you could be with him in Kyoto but he was just so busy he’d hardly be able to entertain you, and Court here comes highly recommended. You, princess, were not to worry and you were to have great fun at the Fashion Week shows.

Fashion Week had happened the previous month.

For your new bodyguard, it may have never happened at all, if his copycat suits were any indication. He alternated between a gray suit (with that nerdy pattern! As if!) with a black shirt and vice versa with mind-numbing regularity. Two black suits, one gray suit. Two black suits, one gray suit. He seemed to always be wearing the same pair of shoes, or, and you couldn’t decide which was worse, he had several identical pairs.

It was a shame, really, that this man was a bodyguard, of all things. He had the face of a model. Perhaps even a movie star, it was distinctive enough. Once he started trailing behind you everywhere you went, as per his new job duties, the frequency in which you started appearing in magazines increased.

You had always been popular, the only child of the owner of one of the largest conglomerates in the world, and the media would follow your every move, but they’d never written about your security before. All of a sudden, the handsome man controlling the crowd around you and shielding you with his (perfect but who’s looking) body had become a news-worthy topic.

Which brought you to your current situation.

Over the years, you had become somewhat of a style icon, so much so that brand offers had already become a boring occurrence, so much so that magazines looked to you to predict trends, not to follow them.

Court? In his two boring suits? Serious fashion no-no. And now that he was in all the photos with you…

His gaze doesn’t leave your face, eyebrow still cocked, and you realize he’s waiting for you to answer your own question. You sigh, but do so anyway. You can’t expect a bodyguard to be a well-versed conversationalist, if all the ones you’ve ever had were any indication.

“Of your same two suits?”

“No.” He replies simply. He’s always short with you, but you still can’t really call him rude. His tone is flat, and that is annoying, but his voice is nice and deep, and it’s even more annoying you don’t get to hear it more.

“Well, I am bored.” You say, flashing a smile at the store attendant who is arriving, heels clicking on the marble floor, with a chrome rolling rack, the new male collection neatly lined on hangers.

The attendants all know you, so she leaves you to it, but you know at least one of them is keeping an eye on you, ready to pounce at the slightest hint of you needing anything. The two glasses of pink champagne and a heart-shaped tray full of artisan chocolates on a small table with two plush armchairs in the corner, a vase full of lilies, and even your preferred choice of music in the Mugler store, now closed for other customers, all speak of the luxurious treatment you have become used to, and think it’s time Court did, as well.

His eyes flit toward the clothing rack and he undoubtedly understands what your plan for today is. The corners of his mouth twitch in a half-smile as he redistributes his weight in that way that has no right to be as attractive as it is.

You approach the rack and start browsing:

“You look like a 42 regular, so that is what I asked for. Even in those atrocious off the rack suits you always wear, your waist looks like Mugler was made for it.”

“A real talent, to compliment and insult someone in equal measure.” Court says, blue eyes twinkling as the only indication of amusement.

“Must have learned it from a movie or something.”

You pull out a double breasted black jacket with silky lapels and the classic sharp Mugler shoulders. Court eyes the garment and doesn’t move an inch when you curl your finger for him to approach.

“That’s a black jacket.” He states, uncurling his hands and adjusting his own, much inferior, black jacket. Ass.

“If you’re trying to prove you’re not colorblind, I’m still not convinced. Come here.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Court truly chuckles. You’ve seen his mouth curl into smirks a couple of times, but you’ve never seen him truly laugh:

“Are you that bored, miss?” He always addresses you that way and you always wonder how sarcastic it is.

“I think we passed a Mattel store earlier. Can’t you just buy a Ken doll?”

“Why, when I have one right here?”

Seeing how he won’t approach you, you approach him, pressing the new jacket against his frame:

“You attend events with me, you’re in photos with me. I’m a billionaire and yet you’re always wearing the same two things. That won’t do.”

“Your father is.” Court says, eyebrow quirked as he pops his gum.

“My father is what?”

“Your father is the billionaire.”

You blink at him, half-surprised at the gall, and half… well… there’s something attractive in the way his eyes glimmer as he looks down at you, half-smirking. Taunting.

“And yet, everything the sun touches…” You gesture around yourself vaguely and he snorts.

“You go and try this on, we’ll go from there. I was thinking: this jacket, distressed jeans, a light wash, wide leg; and I’d add a long earring and a watch to accessorize. As for shoes… maybe combat boots. Or maybe we do a full black suit with a bright-color shoe and a silk scarf, or a pair of sunnies as color accents. If the jacket looks good unbuttoned, maybe we could also do-”

“Miss.” Court is smiling:

“You really want to play with me that much?”

He looks uncharacteristically adorable as he smiles and you find yourself sputtering. How smooth.

“Not play with you! I’m serious, Court, you’re cramping my style at events!”

“Nobody says “cramping my style” anymore, what are you, 40?”

“Unlike you, no! Just go and try this on!”

You nearly slam the hanger with the jacket against his firm chest and he doesn’t move an inch. It falls to the floor:

“You never said the magic word.”

You probably could have him fired with one magic word to your father. And yet…

“Please.”

Court smiles, bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and swiftly picks up the jacket:

“My pleasure, miss.”

#the gray man #ryan gosling #sierra six #court gentry #six x reader #sierra six x reader #bodyguard #ken doll

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penn-dragon · 1 year ago

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Kyoko still regularly visits the Corn clearing because it's her happy place, and early into the production Ren goes to visit the spot for nostalgia and happy memories. They run into each other there and Ren immediately realizes who she is

#skip beat #kyoko mogami #ren tsuruga #kyoren #never left kyoto au #I think he kind of knew already in the back of his mind but didnt really register it until they meet in the forest #a big part of the fun of this au for me is imagining what their reunion would have been like if they hadn't gotten off on the wrong foot #like they do in the manga #because even after he finds out his distaste for her motivations and her consequent grudge against him color their interactions for a while #(I also think she unintentionally triggered his trauma when they first met which is why he reacted so strongly to her but thats a rant for #another day)#he's just so so so so so drawn to her while also desperately wanting to keep his distance #but it's hard when he feels like he's suddenly back in his most precious memories #and kyoko is so charmed by him #platonically (at first)#she connects to people so quickly and the only reason she disliked Ren for so long was because he was mean to her hgkdfjdk #and I don't think 30 year old kyoko would have the same 'i hate who Sho hates' mentality 16yo kyoko did bc thats just how teenagers are lol #anyway i've ranted long enough I think about them so much

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symphonic-scream · 5 months ago

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I was left unattended there's a new au

Haru Sakura au for Persona 5

P5 au where Haru moves into LeBlanc's attic after she joins the team

Joker lives in the Sakura house by then, has his own room, and they've just been using the attic as a hideout

They go and get Haru and Mona back and. They all watch her sleep on the couch, and no one wants her to go back home.

"...you think Boss would let her stay here?"

"It's worth asking..."

So, Haru lives above Leblanc. She gets her stuff from her old house, so the attic has a bigger bed in it, a vanity, and they all build an Ikea dresser for some of her clothes

In this one she decides to take a gap year. A year spent, learning to love and to live. A year learning to be Big Sis Haru

Anyways.

Haru: I, I think I'm gay,

Akira: hey, hey it's okay, do you want a hug?

Sojiro: now, I'm not up to date with the world and stuff, but you love who you love, you can't choose that. Anyone that gives you hell? Just send them to me, and they'll never bother you again

Futaba: ...was it Makoto or Ann?

Sojiro: Futaba-!

Haru: Mako-chan, shes- gosh,, I could probably go on for hours,

Akira: I'll listen if you want. I'm sure Dad and 'Taba have other things to do

Sojiro: I can listen to anything else. Just, not love stuff. Don't wanna picture you kids getting older

Futaba: I have to bully kids on Roblox

Haru gets a room in the Sakura house too. Hers is, technically the attic again, but it's big. It was a surprise too, Sojiro paid Ryuji and Makoto and Akira to fix it up, make it liveable

Makoto goes away for the first semester. Kyoto, then back to Tokyo. She and Haru call and text, video call too. Haru praises her haircut, and smiles when she wishes Makoto luck with a date. Doesn't know why her chest feels heavy

Makoto's first day back is day one of strikers. Ann and Akira and Ryuji are going to pick her up from the airport, and Haru doesn't originally want to go, but. Makoto's last text before she loses service is just

"I can't wait to see you again, you don't even know how much I've missed you. Would it be too forward to ask for a hug?"

Haru leaps out of bed and down the stairs, and gets to the van just as they're about to leave

Ann: girl- you're in your PJs??

Akira: you said you didn't want to...

Haru: i- I want to be there! Please,

And she wrings her hands, waiting and listening to the others talk, and-

"Haru!"

Makoto is beaming, undercut and more unevenly cut hair. Wearing a flannel and some shorts, comfy clothes, but it still makes Haru forget to breathe

Makoto pauses, to ask for that hug, be a little cheeky, and Haru just. Crushes her. Sniffling slightly into her shoulder, mutters a soft "I missed you so much,,"

And they're friends. They're friends! Haru has to keep insisting this to her brother, and her sibling, and Ann-

Makoto sits close to her the entire time. Leans over to make jokes, and smiles at her with that, new, silly smile she's found

And. Makoto, at some point in Strikers, breaks the news that she's staying in Kyoto for the year. To finish her year. The program director likes her, it seems

Haru acts normal about it, but when she's alone later, Akira finds her and wraps an arm around his sister

Akira: it sucks, huh?

Haru, wiping her tears: it does,, but- this is good for her studying,,

And the others, they're talking to a more demure Makoto

Ann: got a girl in Kyoto?

Makoto: sort of? She, doesn't want to be exclusive. And, I'm thinking I might actually not like her as much as I'd thought

Ryuji: huh? For Real?

Makoto: ...there's someone else I'm now realizing I may be, in love with

Later on, it's like March now, the next school year is a month away, and

Haru: so, then Sojiro said-

Makoto: I'm coming back to Tokyo!

Haru: ...you are?

Makoto: I, I am. I'm going to Tokyo U for my second year. Is, does this make you, happy?

Haru: you silly girl, I'm ecstatic! But, is this what you want? What about your girlfriend?

Makoto: she broke up with me. I deserved it, it's. A long story. I'll tell it to you when I'm home?

Haru: yeah,, when you're home,,

The second airport reunion is much more emotional. Makoto sprints through a crowd, and swings Haru around, who's actually crying and just. They both missed each other so much

Makoto had a plan. She had it all worked out, but, in the moment, she just-

Makoto: I missed you so much, I love you, Haru, I-

Haru: *gay shut down as Makoto rambles a little, then springs up for a messy kiss*

So then they're dating. Haru starts her first year as Makoto does her second, and it's. They're both in much better places

Sojiro has to get used to his newest and oldest daughter coming down from her attic room in the morning with her girlfriend, who he knows already, but who gets so goddamn awkward around him now

Futaba snickers and teases as Makoto gets so red, and Akira winks and teases, and Haru gets pink and giggles back, and just. She's in a much better place in life

A gayer place

Makoto would have had a year of gay exploration and learning about herself in the background. She comes back to Tokyo knowing she's more butch, having a new style and absolutely sure she's head over heels for Haru

Haru's been growing her hair out. It's ponytail length, and she's just, more at ease with herself

Makoto spends her first night back in Tokyo at Sae's, but then, she meets Haru for a late lunch, and they go back to Haru's room, and, the giddy little make out, and the way they just. Talk stuff out while curled up in Haru's big bed

Makoto: I've had a crush on you since Beauty Thief

Haru: I, it took me a bit longer. Christmas Eve,

Makoto: I'm so glad I didn't stay in Kyoto any longer. Being apart from the others, from *you*, it was necessary for finding myself, but it was almost too much

Akira goes up to Haru's room the next day and finds the GFs playing Smash Bros or something

Haru, in Makoto's flannel and a soft skirt. And then Makoto, in a sports bra and butch boxers and just

Akira: oh. I didn't know Makoto, slept over

Makoto: we didn't-

Haru: she just slept over, 'Kira, take your horny brain elsewhere. What's up?

Akira: Dad and I are making hotpot for tonight, Ryuji and Yusuke are coming over, sleeping over in the living room. Do you two wanna join?

Haru: Mako-chan?

Makoto: I'm down. I- are we going to join the guys downstairs? Or-

Akira: ...you're staying over again?

Haru: mm! We'll hang out with them, but I'm still owed my solo Mako time

So yeah.

#makoto niijima #haru okumura #persona 5 #okujima #haru sakura au

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fearfulachilles · 11 months ago

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8. gossip & uncertainty.

chapter eight to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .

full contents here.

summary: you finish the week learning you'll be scribing for the mysterious dr. geto and hearing new gossip regarding kento. meanwhile, kento finished the week with being handed an offer he never thought he'd hear.

The clinic portion of the hospital is only open on weekdays, but Satoru had mentioned he’d like to open it for seven days a week in the future. You hope you’re off in med school when the time comes.

You work with Dr. Gojo again before the week ends. You’re fascinated by neurosurgery and he notices it. He tells you about his favorite surgical case during his fellowship here at Jujutsu Hospital and how he developed his own technique that helps reduce risk during brain surgery by 85%.

“That’s amazing.” You say, starstruck.

Satoru doesn't feel like a boss at times, he's easy to talk to. You ask when was the last time he had to use his technique and he says a year ago, around the time he last performed surgery.

There’s gossip of Satoru’s lack of surgery hours that you’ve heard…well, Nobara heard and told you. Some rumors say it’s because of malpractice and others say it’s because he’s been banned from the operating room by the chief of surgery. Satoru doesn’t hide the fact that he hasn’t been in the operating room in sometime, but he usually brushes it off it with a joke and never explains further.

You bite your lip and take a chance. “Can I ask why it's been so long?”

“You’re kidding, right? I have my hands full with this clinic. Surgery will be there when I’m done.” He answers, then changes the topic quickly after.

That's when Satoru shares information regarding your schedule next week. You’ll be scribing for Dr. Geto.

“He's filling in for me, just for a day. I’ve got some bullshit meeting to go to.” The young doctor explains, rolling his eyes.

When Satoru stopped performing surgery, Dr. Geto took over all his surgical cases, causing his surgery schedule to double. Because of that, Dr. Geto doesn’t have time to be in clinic, other than when Satoru absolutely needs him to be there.

It’ll be an exciting start to your week.

_________

You decided to Google Dr. Geto once you got home. You don’t know much of the physician, not even what he looks like. When pictures of him show up, you were taken back by how pretty Suguru Geto was. Was every doctor in that hospital good looking?

Then something catches your eye.

“Have you guys ever read this article? 'Dr. Satoru Gojo renounces titleship to famous Gojo technique.'” You read aloud to your roommates. “He gave credit to... Suguru Geto? It’s called the Geto technique now.”

“Weird. I wonder why he'd do that.” Yuji commented.

“Maybe he stole it from Dr. Geto and finally got caught.” Nobara speculated. She always loved a scandal or drama that didn't involve her personally. You couldn't blame her, you did too.

“I heard they're close friends, I doubt that happened.” Megumi chimed in.

From your reading you learn that Suguru is also a gift to medicine, similar to Satoru. He was a couple years older and accomplished many things in med school, alongside Satoru, and during his fellowship in a Kyoto hospital.

Nobara decides to bring up some more gossip she's heard, her voice filled with juicy intention of trapping you into the topic. “I heard that Dr. Nanami was left on his wedding day.”

You take the bait.

“He what?” You whip your head around from your phone screen to look at her.

Nobara nods. “Yup. He was getting married to some pharmaceutical rep, but she never showed.”

“That's probably why he looks so grumpy all the time.” Yuji says.

“Where did you hear that from?” You ask intrigued.

“Maki told me. She's the cute nurse I told you about. She used to work there, then she quit, but Dr. Gojo hired her again.” Nobara explains. She met Maki Zenin when she got lost on her way to the cafeteria in the hospital on the very first day. Since then, the two had been texting.

You've never bothered to learn the dating history of your past flings, but this was different. Being engagement and left at the alter are serious. You think, is he using me as a rebound?

You shake off the thought because you're not supposed to care, but you still feel something tugging deep within you. You ignore it.

_________

It had been the slowest week of Kento’s career, mentally. He had back to back surgeries scheduled and he stayed at the hospital until the early morning hours, busy with operative notes, but it had felt long and nearly tedious because you were on his mind.

The week is over and he arrives home tired. He drags himself to his kitchen and looks through his fridge. Kento feels the motivation to cook real food for the first time in a long, long time. He used to cook all the time, having a passion for it and always experimenting with new recipes.

He lost that side of him long ago, the side of him that looked forward to the things in his life and enjoyed them, as if he outgrew happiness. He thought he would never find it again. It had strained his relationship deep enough to be left stranded at an alter he never wanted to be at.

Then he met you, he talked to you, kissed you, and touched you. He saw the vibrant color of your hair, eyes, and body. He tasted your lips and felt your skin on his. It felt like he had been holding his breath for years, waiting for something to come along. Then, you came along. He made you laugh in that bar and thought this is how it feels to breathe again.

His microwavable dinners from the frozen aisle and instant coffee weren't enough to get him by anymore. He missed the spices of his home cooked meals and the richness of his favorite coffee beans. His days weren't dull anymore. He appreciated the rising sun in the sky on his way to work and the sound of chirping birds outside his bedroom window a little more. Your touch brought his senses back.

In the midst of his thoughts of you, he thinks back to when you mention your mother had Cordis Aneurisma, a slow killing disease of the heart and a medical mystery. The only fact known was that it is genetic, primarily in women, with a 50/50 chance of a mother passing it to her daughter.

Kento never really enjoyed taking chances like that. Though, he took one with you.

He had told you he didn't want anything serious, something he'd never done before. He was raised to be a traditional man, primarily by his grandfather. So, he worked towards a good and stable career with a great salary, and he was going to get married and settle down. After being with you, he knows he doesn't want to go return to that, even if it meant breaking his traditional values he was raised with, all for a chance you'll let him stay around for a little longer. He hopes you do.

He cooks something quick and easy for him before he digs up his old med school textbooks and begins searching for anything on Cordis Aneurisma. Two textbooks turn into five, and when his sixth one doesn't have anymore information than the others, he moves his research on to his laptop.

He doesn't hear the knocking on his front door until it's loud enough to bring him out of his thoughts. When he opens it, it's Asami, his ex-fiancée.

She greets him with a smile, but Kento stares blankly at her, blinking his eyes. He didn't expect her to come by today, but she has made it a habit of showing up unannounced, which usually led to them fucking on his couch.

Asami walks past him and makes herself at home, and he doesn't stop her. She places her handbag on his counter and walks further inside.

“Did you just get home from work?” Asami asks.

Kento looks down at his attire to see that he's still wearing his scrubs. He looks over at a clock in his home and realizes it has already been a few hours since he got home. He lost track of time reading up on the genetic illness.

She moves on, not taking notice of Kento’s cooked dinner. Asami was never good at noticing the small things in him. She peeks at all the opened textbooks and then over to what is on his laptop. “Do you have a patient with Cordis Aneurisma? How sad.”

Kento hadn't spoken a word yet. His face had turned back to the one Asami had known very well now, neutral to everything.

“What are you doing here?” Kento finally asks, speaking his first words to her. He dreaded thinking she was going to finally explain herself to him on why she left that day, something they both had been avoiding to acknowledge.

Asami steps her way over to Kento and places her hands on his broad chest. She's smaller than you, he doesn't like it. “I wanted to talk. I miss you.”

I miss you. She said that last time she was here, in the middle of sex. Kento had thought it was just in the moment of bliss, he had hoped it was.

“And I've been thinking about us…getting back together. I-I think we should try again.” Asami continues, sounding eager and unsure all at once. She's fidgeting with her fingers on his chest.

Her words make Kento run cold. He looks down at her face, uncertain of what to say or think. He spots her engagement ring on her finger, she had recently began putting it on again.

“We don't have to talk right now, I just wanted to tell you in person, but I'd like you to think about it.” Asami smiles with her lips closed and with a sense of uncertainty. She can’t read his face, he hardly gives her any sign of what he was thinking.

Asami removes herself from him and grabs her bag from the counter, knocking off the parking ticket Kento had taken from you. She picks it up to place it back, and reminds him, “oh—don't forget to pay that, Kento.”

She comes back to him, slipping her hand into his larger one and pulling him over to his front door once again as she makes her exit. She meant for this to be a quick visit. “You will think about it, right?”

Kento doesn't say anything in return, he just slowly nods at her words. She nods back, taking a chance and tugging him closer, raising herself on her tiptoes to kiss him. He kisses back for a moment, but all he could think about were your lips.

He didn't like comparing women to each other, but the feeling of you still lingers on him. He could only think about how much he would rather kiss you again instead of her. He abruptly breaks the kiss, pulling away, and it leaves Asami taken back.

Words don't need to be exchanged for what she felt as Kento pulled away from her, so she leaves him to think about her offer alone.

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atwooozi · 3 months ago

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gojo x oc

Chapter 18: Promise?

summary: Ai wakes up at Gojo's place after a long night, surprised to find herself still there. As she groggily stumbles through her morning routine, Gojo’s carefree and teasing nature contrasts with her exhausted state. Gojo, freshly out of the shower and looking effortlessly composed, offers to make coffee, revealing small nuances about their growing connection as they banter.

genre: modern AU, slice of life, comedy, eventual romance, eventual smut, some angst

A/N: Gosh, once again I'm sorry for the inconsistency. My poor kitty got sick and then I did right after so I took a week off from editing to recoup. Hopefully, nothing else gets in the way as I continue posting from here on out.

Anyway, the song for this week is Sugar Magic by tonun . I feel that this song suits this story so well. It's so light and fresh while at the same time being a little bit bitter.

READ ON AO3

Ai groaned as she woke up. Her body–especially her neck–was aching all over, thanks to the awkward position that she fell asleep in. She opened her eyes, expecting to see her room. To her surprise, she was met with anything but that.

Ai was still at Gojo’s place. She had fallen asleep after they finished watching that awful movie. She was curled up on his comfy couch, covered in an amazingly soft blanket, and Gojo was nowhere in sight.

She carefully got up and stretched, her joints letting out popping sounds as she moved. While some of the soreness was gone, she still had a dull ache on the side of her neck.

What time is it?

Ai yawned as she padded her way over to where she left her bag beside the dining room table that still had the box of pictures sitting on top of it.

When she dug through her things she found her phone. The time read four-thirty in the morning, and the battery was almost dead. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. She was still on Gojo’s stupid schedule from when they were doing reshoots two weeks ago. Around this time if she were still in Kyoto she would be dragging herself to the car with Geto and Junpei in tow as Gojo finished getting his makeup done. Even though the experience was fun there was a part of Ai that was thankful that this assignment was close to being over.

“Ai-chan’s awake!” Gojo smiled as he made his way over to her. “You look scary when you wake up.”

From the looks of it, Gojo had just gotten out of the shower. His usually fluffy hair was damp and his flawless skin had a nice sheen to it. Not to mention the soft-looking towel that was draped around his neck to catch the remaining droplets of water from falling onto his very simple, but somehow sultry outfit. Ai had never realized how a black compression shirt and gray sweatpants could look so nice before–or maybe she was just tired.

She was probably just tired.

“Earth to Ai-chan~” Gojo sang as he flicked her forehead playfully.

Ai frowned at Gojo and swatted his hand away. She wanted to say something back, but her brain was still adjusting to being awake after only a few hours of sleep. If there was one thing she disliked about Gojo it was the fact that he was such a morning person.

“How do you have so much energy?” Ai mumbled as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Gojo smiled as he pulled Ai up gently by the wrist. “I’d like to think it’s because I’m so pretty that I don’t need that much beauty sleep.”

Ai couldn’t help but roll her eyes, causing Gojo to laugh. “I would say something but I can’t think properly right now,” she muttered as she lightly slapped her cheeks, trying to wake herself up. Unfortunately, it didn’t help much.

Gojo ruffled Ai’s hair. “C’mon, I’ll make you some coffee,” he said as he led the way to his obscenely beautiful kitchen.

It was clean with sharp lines and almost monochromatic, except for the colorful magnets and pictures of Megumi and Tsumiki that covered the fridge door. The kitchen resembled something from a fancy restaurant, rather than the typical Japanese home. The decor somehow fit Gojo. The man was anything but typical, so why would his home be?

Ai took a seat at the counter and rested her head on the cool marble surface. It made her shiver, but it felt somewhat refreshing, waking her up some.

“How do you take your coffee, Ai-chan?” Gojo asked as he put fresh coffee beans in the grinder.

Ai sat up, now excited for the fresh coffee he was making her. The smell of freshly ground beans filled the air–it was heavenly. She was used to the cheap instant coffee that she would unceremoniously make herself, just to get her caffeine fix, but despite the ungodly hour, she felt like she was in the lap of luxury. The more she thought about it the harder it was to remember that last time she was able to just sit and relax with a cup of coffee.

“I like a spoonful of sugar and lots of cream.”

Although Gojo had his back to her, she could feel his light and cheerful energy. She found herself fascinated with the way he easily moved around his kitchen to get mugs and turn on the tea kettle.

“Gojo–”

“Satoru,” he corrected as he pulled a pour-over coffee maker from a high cabinet.

Ai blinked as she watched him, any objections she had were now gone. She was worried that the meal he made her the other day was a fluke, but she was starting to quickly learn that Gojo was more competent than she thought.

“Do you like coffee, Go–I mean, Satoru?” Ai asked as she curiously watched him.

Not many people had pour-over coffee makers if they didn’t particularly care for coffee. It felt like a silly question, but Gojo didn’t seem like the type to enjoy more bitter flavors given his obvious sweet tooth.

Gojo looked over his shoulder at Ai and shrugged, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s more Suguru and Gumi-chan’s thing,” he explained as he poured the boiling water over the freshly milled coffee grounds. “I started drinking it because Suguru did.”

Ai chuckled and smiled to herself. “Were you trying to impress him?” she joked.

“Yeah,” Gojo answered honestly. “I thought he was so cool so I forced myself to drink coffee when we’d hang out. It’s not my favorite thing, but I don’t hate it.”

“Does Geto know that?”

“No,” Gojo said, turning to her with a wink. “So let’s keep that between us, ‘kay?”

Ai nodded. “‘Kay.” “Here,” Gojo said, placing a mug of coffee in front of Ai. “You can add the cream yourself.”

Ai nodded as she took the mug into her hands. When she looked down at the cup it smelled delicious, almost chocolatey. She poured the cream that Gojo had placed on the counter into the cup until the liquid turned a lighter brown color. She blew on gently as she brought the cup to her lips and sipped it.

“Well?”

Ai almost whimpered. “It's so good…”

Gojo wore a smug smile as he watched Ai. “I'm glad you like it,” he said as he brought his cup to his lips. He took a sip and sighed. “Suguru makes fun of me for all the sugar I use…” he said thoughtfully. A silence washed over them both as they sipped on their drinks. It felt almost too domestic to Ai. While she loved how natural it felt, it felt equally unsettling. She couldn’t let herself get used to this. They only had a finite amount of time together left. She needed to remember that.

“I need to go home,” Ai stated as she sat the mug on the counter.

“Why?” Gojo pouted. “Today is our big interview day anyway. Just stay.”

Ai shook her head as she stood up. “I can't do that. You think Geto won't notice if I wear the same clothes twice?”

Gojo hummed in throught before answering. “You’re right, stupid Sugu notices everything .”

There was a brief silence before Gojo decided to open his mouth again.

“Can't you just borrow something of Tsumiki’s?”

Ai narrowed her eyes at Gojo. “No, you clown.”

Gojo groaned as he circled around the counter. He immediately went slack and he leaned against Ai, causing her to almost topple over from his weight. He wrapped his arms around her much like a child would do when they didn't want their parents to leave for work. “But I don't want you to leave…” he muttered as he buried his face in Ai's still messy hair.

“Gojo–”

“ –Call me Satoru,” he pouted as he nuzzled his face deeper into Ai’s hair. “Pleeeeease…pretty please.”

“Satoru, I'll be back later.” Ai sighed as she hesitantly rubbed his back.

She was still unsure how to interact with him. Gojo was so touchy and affectionate, it was almost overwhelming. He was the most touch starved person that she had ever met.

“Can I come with?” Gojo looked at Ai with pleading eyes. “I'll behave. I promise.”

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“Ai-chan,” Gojo called from her living room. She could tell just from the tone of voice that he was bored.

Ai groaned inwardly as she hit her head against her bedroom wall with a gentle thud. She was afraid to answer him, but she couldn’t leave him alone either. The fact that he went quiet was almost more unnerving than his constantly calling for her as he looked around her small apartment.

“...What?” She called out reluctantly.

She squeezed the moisture out of her hair with a towel while waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t respond her heart sank.

Did he die?

Hesitantly, Ai peeked out of her room to look into her small living room. Satoru was standing in front of her bookshelf holding a picture frame while smiling to himself. She let out a sigh of relief and quickly ducked back into her room and went back to fixing her hair. Hopefully, the bookshelf would keep him occupied for a while so she could finish getting ready.

Ai swore that she got ready in record time. Blow drying her hair would take too long, so she had to settle for her natural waves and light makeup. She wore a soft, light-blue turtleneck and simple, loose-fitting pants. Since they were going to be at Gojo’s place to conduct the interview, she figured she could dress a bit more casually.

Gojo glanced over at Ai with a gentle smile on his face. He had been skimming through one of the books on her overcrowded shelf. “Do you write in all your books?”

Ai furrowed her brows and walked over to stand next to Gojo as she inspected the careworn novels she had collected over the years.

“Not all of them…” She said as she picked a book off the shelf, skimming through the contents. The pages didn’t have any of her little scribbles in the margins or colored reading tabs. “The ones I haven’t read yet, for example.” She grinned as she looked up at him.

Gojo chuckled and put the book he was holding back. He nodded towards the frame he was holding earlier. “Is that you and your mom?”

Ai nodded as she reached for the picture. She ran her thumb over the glass as she looked down at it–it was a picture from her high school graduation. In the photograph, Ai wore a red hakama that had been in the family for a few generations, as her mom stood proudly next to her in front of the school gates.

“You looked pretty,” Satoru said as he looked over Ai’s shoulder.

She felt her face flush and her heart flutter at Satoru’s compliment. Ai never thought that she was bad-looking, but to get a compliment from someone that other people saw as beautiful felt exceptionally nice.

“Your head looked bigger then, but I think you grew into it,” Gojo chuckled.

Ai jabbed her elbow into Gojo’s stomach, causing him to groan. She put the picture down back on the shelf carefully. “Do you just say whatever comes to your mind?”

Gojo rubbed where Ai had jabbed her elbow and pursed his lips. “Only with certain people.”

Ai sighed as she went to grab her keys and slip on her shoes. “Let’s go. I don’t want Geto or Junpei-kun to get there before us.”

Gojo obediently followed Ai after he slipped on his shoes. She was surprised he didn’t fight her on leaving. She thought she’d have to drag him out of the apartment.

“Do you really think they’ll get there before us?” Gojo asked as Ai locked the door behind them.

Ai looked him point blank in the eyes. “Your friend is a demon and I think he lives to torment me.”

Gojo shrugged, still appearing as carefree as ever. “Suguru? He’s an angel.”

Ai couldn’t help but chuckle at Gojo’s response. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

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Somewhere near the Omote-Sando station Geto Suguru was waiting for Yoshino Junpei to meet him. Just as the younger man walked up to him Geto couldn’t help but sneeze.

“Are you getting sick, Geto-san?” Junpei asked curiously as he adjusted his face mask.

Geto rubbed his nose and sniffled. “If you gave me your cold I’m making you pay my doctor’s bill.”

“B-but I just got here…” Junpei stuttered.

Ghetto narrowed his eyes and looked around the station suspiciously. “Someone must be talking about me…”

Junpei scratched the side of his head as he stood next to his odd, yet handsome companion. “I’m sure it’s all nice things, Geto-san.”

Geto smiled, causing his eyes to morph into crescents but instead of it being disarming it was rather unnerving. “It had better be…”

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As Ai and Gojo walked into the train station, Gojo kept glancing Ai’s way. Even with his glasses obscuring his eyes she could feel his stare on her. It made her heart tremble.

“What?” she asked, exasperated. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“You wear a lot of blue.” Gojo pointed out as he put his hands in his pockets.

Ai glanced down at her outfit. Gojo’s comment had caught her a little of-guard. “I like the color blue.”

Gojo nodded as he looked ahead, looking for the train. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Ai furrowed her brows and glanced at Gojo. “You always wear black or white.”

“That’s because it goes with everything.” Gojo pulled his glasses down and winked at Ai. “I think you should try red though.”

Ai wanted to question Gojo further but they had to get on the train. She’d have to ask him about it another time.

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When they arrived back at Gojo’s place, the sun was hanging bright in the sky. It shined brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was truly a beautiful view of the city, but at this level she couldn’t help but feel disconnected from the people on the streets. They looked so small, like ants.

“Home sweet home,” Gojo said as he stretched and sat himself down on his large luxurious couch. He sat himself in the middle and let his lanky body stretch fully, taking up as much space as possible. He let his head fall back, hanging over the top of the couch to stare at Ai with a smile.

Ai set her bag down at Gojo’s dining room table and took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous now. She and Gojo had been alone many times now, but this time felt different. No one could interrupt them. He had purposely cleared his schedule for today’s interview. She pulled out her notebook as well as her laptop. If she forced herself to work then maybe that would ease her nerves a bit.

“Ai-chan,” Gojo whined and got up from the couch. “Stop working and pay attention to me. You can work when Suguru and Junpei-kun get here.”

Ai glanced up from her laptop, trying to keep her composure. “I’m just trying to be prepared.”

Gojo rolled his eyes dramatically and flopped back onto the couch, making a big show of being ignored. “You’re so serious, Ai-chan. You need to have some fun.”

Ai couldn’t help but smile at Gojo’s dramatic display. He seemed to always know how to lighten the mood when she was feeling stressed. “I’ll have fun after the interview. I promise.”

Gojo shot up and wore a goofy grin as he looked Ai’s way. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Gojo started to hum to himself happily, fiddling with his phone. He was probably playing his Digimon game. Ai turned her attention back to her laptop, trying to focus on what she was writing.

A few minutes later, Geto and Junpei walked through the door. Ai looked over with a frown. “You have a key?”

Geto wore a mischievous smile, his eyes turning into those all too familiar smug slits as he spun the key around his finger. “Jealous?”

Ai rolled her eyes at him and tilted her head to look at Junpei. “Junpei-kun, get away from the evil man.”

And just like that, for no reason whatsoever, Geto sneezed.

Junpei stepped away from Geto and quickly bowed to Gojo before he made his way over to Ai. Geto stuck his tongue out childishly at Ai as he walked into the common area.

“Took you guys long enough,” Gojo said as he lazily got up from the couch.

“Our train was delayed,” Geto sighed as he started to get his camera set up.

Junpei was still a bit under the weather from what Ai could tell. He had always been pale and his under-eyes a little darker than most, but he looked different enough for Ai to notice despite him wearing a mask.

Ai frowned as she stood up and instead of greeting her kouhai, she pressed the back of her hand to Junpei’s forehead. “No fever…but you still don’t look well, Junpei-kun,” she sighed as she looked at him. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

Junpei gave a firm nod. “I’m fine, senpai. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Ai-chan!” Gojo whined, “I think I have a fever too.” He whined wanting to be the center of attention.

“Let me see, Satoru,” Geto said as he held his hand out to check Gojo’s forehead.

Ai chuckled as she watched Gojo gently swat Geto’s hand away with a frown. “But you were fine earlier.”

“Earlier?”

Shit…

“When did you get here, Senpai?” Junpei asked, concern evident in his voice. “Were you waiting long?”

As Ai panicked to come up with something to say she could feel Geto’s piercing gaze and it sent a chill down her spine. “I don’t think she left,” he said simply.

“Wha–”

Before Junpei could even get the word out Ai waved her hands as if trying to put out the imaginary fire that she had started. “A-anyway…Junpei-kun, let’s get you set up to take notes, okay?”

Geto finished setting up the camera and looked over to Ai and Junpei. “If you need a break, Junpei, just let us know.”

If Ai was alone, she would probably cry. Even though Geto was a demon, at least he was nice to her kouhai. It truly warmed her heart.

Junpei shook his head. “I’ll be okay.”

Ai wanted to object but decided to trust Junpei’s judgment. “Alright, if you’re sure.” She handed over her notebook and pen. “Take notes for me today. Leave the camera stuff to Geto, okay?”

She couldn’t help it. Ai didn’t want to baby Junpei, but she wasn’t going to let him do anything too physical, like helping Geto with the lighting. Hopefully, note-taking wouldn’t be too much for him.

Ai took a deep breath and turned to Gojo who had sat himself on the armrest of the couch, seemingly pouting as he played with his phone. “Are you ready, Gojo?”

Gojo looked up and flashed Ai a smile. “Let’s do this.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fanfiction #fanfic #gojo satoru #ao3 fanfic #geto suguru #gojo jjk #gojo x oc #I need to get my shit together

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