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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐻𝐼𝒟𝒟𝐸𝒩 𝑀𝐸𝒜𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮
info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.4 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ teacher!reader ﾉ both gojo and reader are ~22 ﾉ gojo has taken in megumi + tsumiki
it’s the third time this month that megumi has been the only student left in your classroom. your boss had warned you that this should be something to expect, that his circumstances are special. you truly haven’t had a problem with him sticking around once the school day ended—your only issue is that you’re never certain what days he might be extending his stay or for how long.
it’s the tiniest bit inconvenient, not knowing whether you should bring extra snacks for the boy or if you can agree to plans after work with friends. you’ll never fault megumi for the uncertainties of his schedule, though.
he really is a good kid.
you’re sitting across from him now and he’s got one of the two onigiris you packed for yourself during your after-school grading set on a napkin. his hand reaches out for the last bite of the rice ball before popping the remainder in his mouth. you don’t realize you’ve been staring at the boy until his dark eyes meet yours. in an attempt to avoid any awkwardness, you ask, “how’s your sister?”
“good.” his reply is short, simple—not far off from how he usually acts in class. megumi’s not much of a talker, that much has become clear to you in the few weeks you’ve been his teacher and even more so in these one-on-one moments. it doesn’t bother you and you’ll never push him to hold a conversation he clearly doesn’t want to have.
“anything you want to do while we wait?” he’s finished his snack and you aren’t sure how much longer it’ll be until his guardian, gojo, is here to pick him up. “we could go to the playground if you’d like.”
he shakes his head, leaning down to grab something from his backpack. “that’s okay, i’m fine reading.”
it’s only your first year teaching out of college but you can confidently say that you haven’t met many ten-year-olds who choose to read over playing outside; on a playground all to themselves, at that. the sight of megumi flipping through the pages of his book to pick up where he left off brings a small smile to your face.
your initial thought is that it speaks well of his example at home. although, from the short interactions you’ve been granted with gojo, something tells you that megumi’s interest in reading came from elsewhere.
you’ve had trouble getting a read on the one called gojo satoru, partly because each of your meetings with him last no longer than a couple of minutes, but mostly because he gives off the impression of someone who doesn’t want others looking at him too critically. it’s a little strange, you think, that a man as outgoing as him is just as guarded.
you ponder on the seemingly endless unknowns that surround gojo as you clean up the small snack you shared with megumi. thoughts of him tug at the back of your mind even when you’ve returned to the table with the boy to get some grading done.
the sun’s harsh rays have started to turn a softer golden by the time gojo arrives to take megumi home. he quietly hums a made-up tune as he walks down the path that leads to your classroom. the melody dies in his throat several feet down the hall upon his realization that your door is ajar. virtually undetectable footsteps carry him the rest of the way and he stops just outside your room.
gojo spots you and megumi situated at one of the many tables, a book in megumi’s hand and a pen between your teeth. there’s a slight crease in your brow as you examine the paper on the surface that makes gojo chuckle a bit.
the sound draws your eyes up and to the doorway. there gojo stands, a grin pulling at his lips.
“gojo-san,” you greet him, standing up and wiping the palms of your hands on your thighs.
your words act as an invitation as the man only enters upon hearing them. he waves and offers you a spoken “hello” before placing the same hand on top of megumi’s head. the boy brushes it away nonchalantly and begins to pack up his things.
your gaze is focused on gojo, how he theatrically frowns at megumi’s silent dismissal and how the dark lenses he wears slide down the bridge of his nose, exposing cerulean irises framed by white eyelashes. his attire is different than the uniform he typically dons when you see him at the end of the day, something you’ve noticed holds true every time he shows up late. this time around, he wears a plain white button-up and sandy brown linen pants.
you’ve never questioned it before but the trend has started to make you wonder what exactly he gets up to on these days. although, you don’t think about it too hard. as long as he’s here and megumi makes it home safe, there isn’t much beyond that that you need to know.
“yoo-hoo,” the sing-songy call rings through the air. you reckon that it came from gojo, if his toothy smile is any evidence.
“i’m sorry,” you apologize for spacing out (and for something so trivial, at that) before painting on your practiced smile. “did you say something?”
“i was just asking if megumi here gave you any trouble.” gojo tries, again, to ruffle the boy's hair but a smaller hand is there to knock his away, as if megumi expected the bothersome gesture.
you hold back a laugh at gojo’s continued efforts being met with even more denial by the fifth grader. “not at all.”
“good.” the white-haired man nods, strands of the silky hair brushing the tops of his glasses. his gaze flits from megumi to you in a split second and even though most of his eyes are hidden, you can feel the intensity his stare holds. “sorry for keeping you so late, i had a bit of extra work to handle today.”
“i don’t mind,” you reassure him with the wave of your hand. “but…”
a thought crosses your mind that leads you to bend down and grab a sheet of paper from the table. you fold the parchment into a square before picking up the pen you had been grading assignments with earlier and scribbling something on the page. gojo and megumi watch quietly as you do so and wear similar expressions of confusion when you hold the paper out to the former.
gojo takes it without hesitation and angles his hand so that he can read what you’ve written. it looks like your phone number and name followed by a wonky smiley face. his eyes widen ever-so-slightly before he looks over his glasses at you. “what’s this for?”
“oh!” you seem to have forgotten to tell him the intent behind sharing your number. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you explain. “just so you can text me in advance if you know you’ll be running behind.”
for a short moment, gojo had interpreted it as something different, though, he opens his mouth in the shape of an understanding “ah” at your clarification while stuffing the square in his pocket. he doubts he’ll ever have the time to actually do so but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “got it, will do.”
your lips curl up in a tight smile as you silently berate yourself for coming off as unprofessional.
“we’ll be out of your hair, then.” gojo’s voice breaks through the thick silence between you. you simply nod in acknowledgement. “thanks for staying late with megumi.”
the dark-haired boy politely parrots his thank you.
“you’re welcome. see you both tomorrow.”
on their walk home, megumi glances to his side at the man towering over him. he’s pulled out the piece of paper you gave him and is happily saving your number in his phone. megumi may be young, but he’s nothing if not attentive.
“why do you keep stopping at home to change?” he asks gojo.
clear blue eyes stay glued to the device in his hand. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
megumi scoffs. “you put on cologne, too.”
“i always smell this good,” gojo argues, finally stuffing the things and his hands in his pockets. he looks down at megumi, wearing the smile the boy finds annoying.
something about it feels like confirmation to his suspicions.
“are you trying to impress my teacher or something?”
the fall of gojo’s smile is all megumi needs to know that he’s right.
lithe fingers reach down to pinch the boy’s cheek. “shut it, kid.”
sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios
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— 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉 ౨ৎ
okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ dubcon (via alcohol) ﾉ hand job ﾉ mentions of blow jobs
when your mother remarries and yuta comes into your life to fill the role of step-brother, you aren’t exactly sure what to expect.
you’ve never had a brother before, no one to threaten boys in an attempt to discourage them from breaking your heart or annoy you when you have friends over for the night. and you anticipate that he’ll fit the mold, fall into the standard that’s been set by your friends. as unfamiliar as you are with siblings of the male variety—you don’t consider yuta’s behavior as brotherly.
he’s kind, and you suppose that’s a trait that can be attached to brothers—but not in the way yuta is nice. there’s something… different about the way he smiles at you, like he’s thinking about things other than what you’re talking about, like there's something else on his mind that you aren’t privy to. it’s a pretty smile, you acknowledge every time you see, but it makes you a bit uneasy.
the things he does for you feel more like acts boyfriends take on—opening doors for you, zipping up your coat, offering to take your makeup off after a long day. it’s hard to turn him away or tell him no, especially when he insists on helping you out. how can you deny him when he wears a pout that’s practically begging for your permission to lend a hand? and, as he says, he’s your brother, after all.
you’re close, but not in the way siblings should be. he tells you a lot, things that he shouldn’t feel comfortable telling his sister, things about his relationships that you have no business knowing, that make your cheeks warm up and your teeth bite down on your lip. he asks about yours, too, curious to know whether or not the boys you bring around are satisfying you, “the way they should be,” he likes to say. you’re never quite sure how to answer him or just why he’s so interested in parts of your life that are meant to be private.
things have gotten even stranger since the two of you moved out of your parent’s home, relocating to live on your own and start lives outside of your family unit. yuta still makes an effort to visit you often, going out of his way to make sure the apartment you end up renting isn't too far from his. you’re sure that if it were up to him, he’d have you living in his spare room.
he’s over your place now with the intention of “catching up” despite seeing you only a week ago. his presence in your home has become a normal one, so much so that you’ve gone out of your way to get him his own pair of slippers and even make sure that your fridge is always stocked with enough food for two.
neither of you has paid the dinner you made much mind, you focusing on your wine and yuta focusing on you. you’ve almost gotten used to being the subject of his dark stare, but you’ll admit that meeting it is a little easier with alcohol in your system. another sip of the beverage is enough for you to find your voice. “so, how’s that girl you’ve been seeing?”
whether it’s because your living room is dimly lit or because you’re starting to feel the effects of the wine, you swear you see yuta deflate with your question. the lighting isn’t tricking you—his shoulders do slump a bit upon hearing your query. he knows he’s forthcoming with information regarding his relationships but he thought he made the fact clear; that all of these girls are simply placeholders for the one he truly wants. you don’t seem to have caught on. “i’m not seeing her anymore.”
you snort, swirling your wine in its glass. “what was it about this one?”
yuta’s turnover rate with girlfriends is something to gawk at—you don’t think you could count the number of women he’s wooed over the years even if you tried… not that you’ve ever found yourself keeping track. it should be a glaring red flag, how quickly he moves on from one to the next without batting an eye, but you merely chalk it up to him being a bit of a player. and that much should mean nothing to you. guys who sleep around aren’t your type and even if you didn’t mind the lifestyle, yuta is off-limits.
not that you’ve ever thought of him in that way.
yuta shrugs. “she just wasn’t right for me.”
“is anyone?” a giggle bubbles up from your chest and it makes yuta’s heart jump, bang against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape and make its way into your hands. he’s met with a sick thought, a little voice in the back of his head whispering that your hands are where his heart belongs. “you know, you’re super picky.”
he grins at your claim. it wouldn’t be untrue to say that he has acquired a specific taste, a fixed hunger, over the past few years. “picky” isn’t quite the right word—he prefers “particular”. “i’m not, i just know what i want.”
you nod, bringing your glass to your lips. “and what’s that?”
“you.”
the little bit of wine that made it into your mouth is sputtered back into the glass as yuta’s confession wafts through the air. you’re too busy trying to compose yourself to see the way the corners of yuta’s mouth twitch at your reaction—how his gaze falls to your lips to watch how you lick them to clean up the mess of wine.
you’ve always thought that he’s treated you like someone other than a sister but you never imagined he’d come right out and say it, and so shamelessly, at that. your cheeks heat up as the single word hangs in the air, the warmth spreading up to the tips of your ears and some other place that you try not to acknowledge.
what’s worse, the admission doesn’t make your stomach churn in disgust. it doesn’t urge you to stand up and kick him out—tell him not to come back and leave you alone for good. because as much as you like to deny it, to push those sickening feelings down into the deepest, darkest depths of you, there’s a piece of you that feels the same.
“you’ve thought about it, too, haven’t you?” yuta’s voice cuts through the thick, suffocating air surrounding you. there’s an edge to his tone that you haven’t heard before that has you dragging your bashful gaze up to his.
“it’s okay. there’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures you as if he can hear the doubts swimming in your head like angry piranhas. his hand finds yours and you jump at the contact but you don’t pull away. the pad of his thumb runs over your knuckles, calloused skin comforting you in a way it shouldn’t as he continues. “we’re not actually related—only by title.”
“yeah but… what would people think?” it’s taboo, you know that much—it’s why you’ve been so hellbent on suppressing those nagging feelings of attraction throughout the years. though, with his confession now out in the open, those very feelings are trying to crawl their way up from the depths of your chest—they’re surfacing.
“no one has to know.” yuta lightly shakes his head to emphasize his point. the eyes staring you down are glistening with desire, like your question has given the man hope for a long sought-after fantasy. “we can keep it between us… our little secret.”
you chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder over his suggestion. the rational part of you is screaming to snatch your hand away and point him to the door but the part of you led by longing and lust urges you to stay put, to see this through. the two thoughts are like a floating angel and devil on each of your shoulders, both of them whispering in your ear, playing tug-of-war to see which side will win your favor.
the push you need to make a decision comes in the form of yuta himself, the man lifting your hand from your lap to his lips. a light kiss brushes your knuckles before he guides your palm to the tent between his legs. you suck in a surprised gasp at the contact your hand makes with the hard bulge.
“see what you do to me?” yuta breathes out, light and airy, “only you can do this to me.”
a twisted sense of pride sprouts in your chest upon hearing his declaration. yuta has never hidden the fact that you’re special to him but you never imagined just how special that was. the statement gives you the confidence to touch him of your own will, hand tentatively rubbing over his clothed erection.
yuta lets out a shattered breath and the sound has your hand stilling and your gaze darting up to his—like a bunny spooked by unexpected commotion. his free hand makes its way up to cradle the side of your face, thumb running up and down your cheek. “keep going, baby.”
you swallow and nod your head, hand picking up where it left off in its exploration over his jeans. as pretty as the quiet moans yuta releases into the air are, you can’t help but think it would feel better—for the both of you—if there wasn’t a denim barrier between the two of you.
your fingers reluctantly reach for his belt before pausing in their path. you look up at him through your eyelashes. “c-can i?”
yuta didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more turned on—not after your initial acceptance, not after he finally felt your touch, but your questions has his pants growing uncomfortably tighter. you’ve always been cute in his eyes but your asking for permission gives him all the more reason to find you absolutely adorable. “please.”
dark eyes follow your fingers as they fumble to unbuckle the man’s belt. you’re not sure whether your shaky hands are due to nerves or excitement but the trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by yuta and when you get his pants and boxers down his hips, he places a steady hand on your quivering one.
it’s warm and big around yours and you don’t question his action, only let him take your hand, guide it to the cock you’ve just pulled out. you’re no longer afraid to admit that you’ve thought about it before—what yuta’s cock looked like. it’s different seeing the real thing and you find your mouth drying with the sight, lips parted as yuta continues to steer your hand.
both of you gasp when your palm meets his skin, dragging beads of precum down yuta’s shaft with his guidance. beyond your mingled breaths, the lewd squelching that accompanies each assisted stroke of yuta’s cock sounds in the otherwise quiet air.
yuta grunts as he helps you jerk his cock, a pleasure he’s never felt before washing over him. “f-fuck—” he chokes out, “i knew you’d feel this good.”
your hand alone is better than any mouth or pussy he’s been in—it fits like a glove, fingers grazing every vein just right, brushing over his slit, squeezing his shaft. god—if your hand feels this good, yuta can only imagine what it’ll be like to have your lips wrapped around him, to be buried in the warmth of your cunt. he wonders if you know just what effect you have on him, if you’re aware of how much of a mess the mere thought of you turns him into.
the moment you look up at him with those doe-ish eyes of yours, he can’t hold out any longer.
and with a series of strangled moans, yuta comes, ropes of warm cum shooting over your joined hands. you can feel him soften in your hand as you stroke his cock through his high, his musical whimpers meeting your ears.
when he finds his voice, yuta speaks up. “made me come so good.”
his hand finally lifts from yours and you’d complain about the cold, empty feeling if it wasn’t relocated beneath your chin. yuta tips your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss. his lips are pillowy and soft as they dance with yours and you moan into his mouth when his tongue seeks yours. it’s a messy, wet kiss, but one that has you yearning for more—more of his lips, more of his cock, more of him.
you let out a muffled squeal when you feel yourself reclining, yuta’s weight and imposing presence hovering above you as you come to lie back on the couch. you suck in a breath after yuta pulls away. he presses his forehead against yours, meeting your widened gaze.
“let me take care of you, baby.”
heyooo ! this is my first time writing a solo piece for yuta — it was fun! hope you enjoyed and if you did, consider reblogging and offering some feedback :3
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuta smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#𐙚 after hours#cw stepcest
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୨♡୧ LONELY EYES, LONELY BOY — gojo x reader. sfw. eventual fluff.
gojo satoru is the loneliness boy you’ve met.
if you told anyone you thought that, they’d laugh in your face and ask if you were talking about the same person. the guy that’s invited to and attends every party on campus? the one who throws himself into all the sports and clubs he can possibly manage? you can admit that he’s a social butterfly but, despite the many faces that surround him and the constant smile playing at his lips, there’s an emptiness behind gojo’s cerulean irises.
it’s strange, you think, that you’ve picked up on this isolated variant of his. everyone knows of gojo but not many people truly know him and you’re no exception. although, the sneaking glances you steal when he thinks no one is watching are telling. you don’t miss the way his bright blues stare off into space while he absentmindedly taps his pencil against his desk as the professor lectures. the way he slips away from the thick of the crowd to step outside onto the patio and take a silent moment for himself isn’t lost on you. you wonder if he’s aware of how transparent he can be if someone cares to look hard enough.
even though you can only call him an acquaintance or classmate at best, those fleeting glimpses of loneliness and solitude you happen to catch lingering in his eyes blanket you with an air of melancholy.
how can someone so prominent, so well-liked, also be so alone?
you ask yourself that question a lot, especially during those moments when the gojo everyone knows and loves disappears and is traded in for the one disguised to hide his woes. he’s here now, at the university-sanctioned event held to honor and acknowledge the outstanding students on campus.
he wears a bright smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he greets and converses with the many professors and advisors that approach him to share their congratulations on his academic achievements. not once do you see anyone aside from the faculty at his side.
when there’s finally a break in the flow of bodies around him, gojo takes the opportunity to wipe his palms on his thighs before leisurely making his way to the door. all too soon, the white fluff of his hair is no longer visible. you quickly excuse yourself and scurry off to follow behind him.
you’re nervous that he decided to call it a night when you finally push past the heavy, metal door but the concrete steps leading down to the parking lot aren’t unoccupied. he’s situated on the far right side of the stairs, hands folded together and head tilted up toward the star-littered sky. his eyes look bluer, brighter, in the dimness of the night—but they’re blank, vacant.
he’s physically present but you have no idea where his mind is. and maybe it isn’t your place to figure that out, but you want to know. that’s why you’re feet are carrying you down the steps before you consider the fact that he might have come out here because he wanted to get away from everyone—including you. but the scuffing of your shoes drifting through the air and the movement beside him doesn’t even alert him of your arrival which is enough to convince you that he shouldn’t be alone right now.
you quietly clear your throat. “hi.”
at your voice, gojo turns to you with his signature smile. it’s jarring how promptly and effortlessly the switch between the two happens. it’s clearly practiced which sends a pang to your heart—he’s been doing this for a while.
“well, hello.” he returns your greeting naturally, running a hand through his windswept hair. it’s the only indication that you caught him off guard. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that was all there was to it. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”
“oh, i was just getting some fresh air.” you nod as if it’ll make your lie more believable. you’ve never been one to pride yourself on your patience, though, and you’re almost sure your curiosity is going to kill you if you don’t just spit it out. so you do, jerking your head in the direction of the parking lot before asking, “still waiting on your parents?”
“hm?” he hums, the grin he wears slipping for a split second before it’s back in place, as though the lapse never happened. gojo shakes his head. “no, they’re away on business. they send their congratulations, though.” he smiles as he says it, but there’s a concealed bitterness lingering in his voice like he wanted them here but expected they wouldn’t be coming.
you hate the thought of this being normal for him but you have no right to speak on his family life. there’s one thing you think you can do for him in this moment. you nudge his shoulder with yours, lips curling up into a playful smile. “you can have mine for the night. they have more than enough parental proudness to go around.”
he chuckles softly. it’s much different than the boisterous laugh you’re used to hearing bounce off the walls of whatever room you’re in. it’s a gentle noise that makes your heart flutter in your chest and the smile tugging at your lips widen.
“thanks,” and you can tell by his tone that the rest of his sentence won’t be what you want to hear, “but i’m fine on my own.”
you shouldn’t have to be, you almost blurt out before biting your tongue. you ask yourself why this sad reality of gojo’s frustrates you so much and it doesn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to put your finger on it. it’s because no one else is. the people who should be—his family, the ones who consider themselves his friends—they don’t care. maybe that’s why you do.
you turn your body so you’re facing him—really facing him. you want him, need him, to know that someone sees past the shield he puts up to hide his silent struggle. he needs to know that you care. it’s a long shot, but you know you’ll regret it if you don’t try. “are you doing anything after this?”
“no,” he draws out the vowel, entertained by your question. he has no idea where you’re going with this but he certainly intends on finding out. with an elbow propped on his thigh, gojo rests his chin in the palm of his hand, putting his dimpled smile on perfect display for you. thick white lashes brush the tops of his cheeks as he blinks in curiosity. “why?”
“i was just thinking,” you trail off before finding your voice again, “that you deserve to have someone to celebrate with. and i know of a café that serves really good desserts nearby.”
the corners of his lips twitch before they slowly fall, not because he’s unhappy, but because he’s surprised. he wasn’t sure what you planned on asking him but he didn’t think it would be an invitation, especially not one to honor his accomplishments. no one else in his life bothered to even attend this event with him and he can’t imagine they would have offered to take him out after if they had shown up. but you, someone he’s spoken to so little that he can count the number of times on one hand, just did.
it shouldn’t, but his palpable shock makes you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile. you were almost positive he was going to turn you down but his reaction has given you hope that he might accept your suggestion. you give in and let the smile pull your lips up as you place a hand on his knee and give it a gentle squeeze.
“so… how about it?” you ask.
maybe you can be the one to make this lonely boy a little less lonely.
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles#gojo imagine#jjk imagines#gojo scenario#jjk scenarios
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒪𝒰, 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝐸
info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.7 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ navigating relationships
“did you miss me while you were at work?”
you jokingly roll your eyes, having expected the question. gojo asks you the same thing over the phone each time you’re making the walk home. he expects a certain answer, one you usually give to him but you’re feeling a little playful tonight. even though he can’t see it, you smile with your next words. “mm, i was a little too busy to think about you.”
there’s a slight pause on the line before gojo replies. “not even a little bit?”
you can hear the pout in his voice and picture the expression in your head—his fluffy white eyebrows pulled together in a frown, bottom lip petulantly poked out. the mental image makes your smile grow wider.
“i’m kidding,” you assure him, adjusting the phone in your hand. he may ask the same question after all of your shifts, but your actual answer never changes. “of course i did.”
his crackly laugh sounds through the speaker and in the chill of the night, it sparks a warmth within you. it’s a sound you’re sure you’ll never get tired of hearing.
“good. i missed you, too.”
you bite your cheek to keep the smile from overtaking your face. it’s been a few months since the two of you started dating but you’re still not used to the unabashed affection gojo continuously shows you.
you can’t seem to find the right words to respond to his sentiment but the end of your commute gives you the opportunity to change the subject.
“hey, i’m almost home,” you tell gojo as you approach the stairs leading up to your apartment. “i’ll text you when i get inside.”
“sure,” he hums, “talk to you later.”
“bye,” you draw out the vowel before pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call. you stuff the device in your bag and your hands in your pockets as you make your way up the stairs that’ll take you to your apartment. the cold air nips at the exposed skin of your face, making you pick up the pace in hopes of quickly getting somewhere warmer. as you reach the final step, something catches your attention.
there’s a figure on the wooden platform a few feet from your door.
it should startle you, but you’re beginning to grow used to the sight. just like his calls, gojo has made a habit of showing up outside your place on nights when you work late. you can’t lie—there’s a certain level of comfort you’re met with each time you’re greeted by the back of his head.
you clear your throat as you walk up to him. “my neighbors are going to start thinking you’re a stalker if you keep showing up like this.”
your voice alerts gojo of your arrival and his head swivels so that he can meet your gaze. there’s a smile tugging at your lips that makes his own curl up at the corners. “can you blame me for wanting to make sure you get home safe?”
bright blue eyes follow you as you come to stand in front of the man. despite the iciness of the air, his coat is left unbuttoned. you’re able to see that he’s wearing a suit underneath his outerwear—he must have come straight here after finishing his internship for the day.
“i just got off the phone with you,” you tell him through a short laugh, pulling your hands out of your pockets to pull his coat closed, though it doesn’t stay. you wonder how long he’s been waiting but you know he won’t tell if you ask.
he leans forward into your touch with his next words. “maybe i want to see you walk through the door with my own eyes.”
“gojo—” before you can get the rest of your sentence out, the man holds a hand out to stop you.
“i told you, it’s satoru.” he’s been persistent about reminding you to call him by his first name ever since the two of you started dating. now is no different and he even goes as far as placing his hands on your waist, sounding out each syllable for you. “sa-to-ru. got it?”
the way he stares up at you with those sparkling eyes and that charming grin makes your heart jump in your chest. expectation lingers behind his gaze and you can sense his anticipation by the way his lithe fingers tap at your waist.
“fine… satoru.” the name still feels foreign on your tongue but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the taste of it. you clear your throat before sliding your hands up onto his shoulders. “you don’t have to keep doing this. it’s starting to get cold outside and you’ll get sick sitting out here.”
he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”
you sigh, readying to drill into him how important his health is when you notice, feel, that his shoulders are trembling with shivers. under a more attentive eye, the redness of his ears and cheeks also make themselves known. despite his carelessness, you can’t find it in yourself to scold him when his actions were so well-intended.
with the click of your tongue, you grab gojo’s tie and give it a gentle tug. “come inside and warm up.”
you weren’t sure it was possible, but gojo’s smile spreads even wider upon hearing your invitation. as if saying “don’t mind if i do,” the man stands to his full height. he towers above you now, but his presence is far from imposing. “after you.”
you lead the way, digging around your bag for your keys. they jingle as you pull them out and the click of your door unlocking sounds throughout the night air. your apartment is dark and as you reach to flip on the light switch, you wonder if you cleaned up this morning. gojo has been here before but you worry about embarrassing yourself with a mess.
though, you can’t stand around in the darkness forever. hoping that the unit is presentable, you turn on the main light. brightness floods the area and, to your credit, nothing more than a misplaced jacket dirties the room. you give yourself a mental pat on the back while you hang up your keys. when you turn to look at gojo, he’s in the process of shedding his coat. you mirror his actions but remind him, “you can’t stay long. i have an early shift tomorrow.”
he doesn’t stop taking his coat off but his smile is traded in for a frown. you’ve all but kicked him out before he’s even gotten settled, and because of work, at that. he’s beginning to think your coworkers see you more often than he does. he drapes his coat on the back of one of the chairs in your kitchen. “you know, if you moved in with me, you could quit your job.”
you almost laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. gojo has always been direct—since before you were dating and when the two of you got together—so his suggestion shouldn’t be surprising. still, every offer he makes to pamper and spoil you tends to catch you off guard. it’s not the proposals themselves, no, but the way he brings them up so casually as if they should be a given—expected.
everything about dating gojo is different from past relationships you’ve had. he expresses his love in ways unfamiliar to you, ways that are sometimes difficult for you to accept—not because you don’t want to but because you aren’t sure how. it doesn’t seem to bother gojo but you wonder when the time will come when you’re comfortable enough to consider taking him up on his offer.
“tempting, but no. ask me again in a couple of months,” you tell him over your shoulder from your place at the kitchen counter. you know he will. “want some tea?”
outwardly unaffected by your rejection, gojo hums in confirmation as he takes a seat at your table. it doesn’t take you long to prepare the warm beverage and place a cup of it in front of the man. you plop down across from him with a mug of your own.
“how was your day?” you ask him before taking a cautious sip of your tea.
“same old, same old,” he replies, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his cupped palms. it squishes his cheeks and gives him a youthful appearance.
under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen, it’s impossible not to pick up on the dark crescents below his eyes. now that the cold isn’t keeping him alert, you can tell just how exhausted he is.
“really? you look kind of tired.”
he brushes off your concern. “i’m fine.”
the phrase is one that gojo utters often but you’re having a hard time believing him tonight. it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in his current condition. even though you had been pretty adamant about him taking his leave earlier, you reconsider.
“why don’t you stay here tonight?” you suggest, holding the mug in your hands up to your mouth.
that much seems to capture gojo’s attention as his eyes widen in curiosity. you hide the smile threatening your lips behind your mug.
“are you sure?”
it’s at this moment that you realize—maybe the way you love is unfamiliar to gojo, too. maybe your invitations come as a surprise in the same way his do to you. and maybe, just like you, he’s wary of accepting your affections, nervous to get too comfortable.
the thought makes you want him to stay even more.
so, without hesitation, you nod. “you look like you’re two seconds away from collapsing. just sleep here.”
“well, if you insist, how could i say no?” gojo grins. it’s a sleepy one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s obvious that he’s grateful—for the gesture, of course, but even more so that he’s finally able to spend more time with you, even if that time will be spent sleeping.
you giggle at his response, gathering the cups and putting them in the sink before jerking your head in the direction of your bathroom. “come on, sleepy-head. let’s get ready for bed.”
hey there! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios
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୨♡୧ HOMECOMING — gojo satoru x reader. sfw. domestic fluff.
gojo’s side of the bed is empty when you wake up—just like it had been last night.
a yawn keeps you from frowning but your eyebrows knit together in either mild annoyance or worry, maybe a mix of both. you had stayed up the previous night expecting to at least hear the door open because satoru had promised he would be home and you always put your faith in his word. though, as your eyelids began to droop with drowsiness, you knew you wouldn’t be awake to welcome him back.
you expected to wake with him beside you, fluffy white hair hiding his cerulean gaze. his absence, while bothersome, makes a sense of unease sprout in your chest. satoru isn’t one to stray from his plans—not when it comes to you. if he still isn’t home even after the sun has risen, its rays threatening to peek through your curtains, then something held him up. as much as you try to ignore the details of his work, you’re well aware of the dangers gojo faces when he’s away.
any lingering frustration you feel withers away at the thought that something bad must have happened. you aren’t sure how much you can do having just woken up but you toss the comforter to the side and jump out of bed, sliding into your slippers. you reach for your phone in hopes of getting in contact with someone; gojo, shoko, anyone who might be in the know. you’re scrolling for his contact when you hear a commotion from the kitchen—a swear and the sound of a pan falling.
the noise would have alarmed you if you didn’t recognize the voice—it’s satoru. breathing out a sigh of alleviation, the tension melts from your shoulders as you toss your phone on the bed and make your way down the hall. when you reach the kitchen, you’re met with the sight of him, one hand on his hip and the other pushing snowy hair away from his forehead. if you had to guess, the cause of his distress is likely the half-cooked pancake splattered on the stovetop. it’s impossible for you to muffle the laugh that bubbles up from your throat.
the sound catches gojo’s attention and his head whips in your direction. much to your relief, he’s made it back to you safe and unscathed. it’s almost enough for you to disregard the mess he’s made upon his return. almost. you grin, jerking your head towards the batter spotting the stove. “making breakfast?”
sensing your jovial mood, gojo mirrors your smile as he approaches you, setting his hands on your waist. “something like that.”
he dips his head down to press a feather-light kiss to your hairline before tipping your chin up to give you a deeper one on your lips. he tastes of coffee sweetened by sugar and creamer, the syrupy flavor remaining even after he pulls away. his right hand comes up to caress the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you lean into the warm, comforting touch.
“sorry i didn’t make it home last night. the higher-ups held me longer than i expected.” you can feel the authenticity of his former statement and the irritation of his latter. your head is nodding in understanding before you know it. gojo continues, “breakfast in bed was supposed to accompany my apology but…”
“you’re a terrible cook?” you finish his sentence, glancing at the mess he managed to make before meeting his eye once more.
“hey.” he pouts, poking his lip out in a show of petulance. his theatrics make you breathe out a short laugh. “one mistake is not a reflection of my cooking skills.”
that much would be true if it were anyone other than gojo. you’re aware of his track record in the kitchen and it’s composed of many incidents similar to this one. though, you think you’ll cut him some slack this time around because his intentions were so pure.
you wrap your arms around his midsection and give him a squeeze, hugging him like you wish you could have last night. satoru cradles the back of your head, smoothing a hand over your hair in soothing strokes. you rest your chin on his chest, right over his heart, and look up at him through your eyelashes. “bad cooking aside,” he frowns at that but stays quiet, which makes you smile, “i appreciate the gesture. so, thank you.”
everything about your expression from the soft smile gracing your lips to the sparkle in your still-sleepy eyes tells gojo that you really are grateful for his botched attempt at an apology. though, as far as he’s concerned, you deserve more than an inedible, half-cooked pancake and a spoken “sorry.” he’s more than equipt to give you that. placing another quick kiss on your forehead, satoru pats your butt with his next words. “get dressed.”
“sorry?” your eyebrows raise in question and partial surprise at the unexpected love tap.
“i might not be very good at making breakfast but i can certainly buy it.” he swallows his pride for your sake, suggesting a new idea that’s still related to his initial plan. “go put on something nice and i’ll take you to that cafe you like.”
you grin at gojo’s proposal and his determination to make up for not keeping his promise. while you would have settled for his simple apology and mere presence, you’re finding it difficult to turn the offer down. “okay. but you have to clean this,” you gesture to the mess behind him, “up, please.”
he nods. “for you, anything.”
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles#gojo imagine#jjk imagines#gojo scenario#jjk scenarios
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— 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 ౨ৎ
okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.9k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ college au ﾉ jealousy ﾉ possessiveness ﾉ yuta is insecure ﾉ marking (hickies & biting)
this is a continuation of my other stepbro!yuta fic, misplaced lust. that offers some background to this fic but this can also be read as a standalone!
a month has passed since you and yuta shared that fateful night in your living room, since you’ve started seeing him as someone other than your step brother—though, you still haven’t quite settled on what to call him. yuta would insist on “boyfriend” but the word feels heavy and sticky in your mouth, like you can’t really get it out any time you try. you suppose you’re still getting acquainted with the idea of yuta as a lover rather than a brother.
all you can say for sure is that things are different.
your standing as simply siblings is the image you keep up in public, much due to your persistence, though, behind closed doors, it’s a different story. gone are the days when yuta kept his urges buried. he touches you when he pleases—stealing the sweetness of your lips in morning kisses, holding you hostage in midday cuddles, exploring each and every curve of your body as you writhe and pant beneath him at night.
it’s taken some getting used to but you’ve fallen into some sort of strange routine with him. the life you’re living is far from ordinary, though, you’re pleased with it.
tuesdays—you have class on campus and, as much as you’ve told him that it isn’t necessary, yuta practically begged you to let him take on the task of taking you to and from your classes. you’re sure he’s parked in the lot across from your building now, but you’ll have to keep him waiting a while longer so that you can exchange contact information with your new project partner.
“just sent you a text,” the boy tucks his phone away in his pocket, “did you get it?”
as if he willed it himself, your phone dings with a message notification. it’s from an unknown number but you infer that the sweet “hi! :)” is from him. you wave your screen at him with a smile and a nod before quickly saving him to your contacts.
“i’ll text you when i get home, yeah?” you look to your partner, eyebrows raised in question.
“sounds good to me.”
“great.” you offer him a wave before setting off to the crowd of cars in search of yuta’s.
it doesn’t take you long to find it, or him for that matter. he’s standing outside the vehicle at the hood, arms crossed and eyebrows pulled together in confusion. the sight leaves you puzzled yourself as you approach him. he usually meets you with a smile. it’s strange to not see the corners of his lips pulling up.
“hey, what’s wrong?” you question. if you were in the privacy of either of your apartments, you’d reach out to smooth out the crease between his brows.
yuta reaches for you, large hands coming to rest on your hips before he pulls you closer. you frown and shake your head in a silent reminder that people are watching—people who shouldn’t see you in such a position. much to yuta’s dismay, you knock his arms away and take a step back. your action seems to upset him further. “who was that guy?”
you fight the urge to roll your eyes at his question. if you thought his investment in your relationships before you hooked up was concerning, then the tabs he keeps on you now border overbearing. you can’t talk to a guy within his line of sight without being questioned about it afterward.
“he’s just a classmate,” you reassure him with a sigh.
your disinterest in the conversation does nothing to ease yuta’s nerves. a piece of him knows that his jealousy may be unwarranted, but, to be fair, you’ve never gone as far as sharing contact information with another guy—and right in front of him, at that. “a classmate that needs your phone number?”
“yes,” you swear you see his frown deepen with your answer, “but only because we’re working on a project together.”
yuta trusts you, he does, but knowing that you’ll be working closely with a guy he’s unfamiliar with leaves a sour taste in his mouth. he’s well aware of how the minds of men work and who’s to say this one won’t make a move on you?
though, as he looks into the depths of your eyes, yuta reminds himself that it’s you. you wouldn’t let things escalate that far, you wouldn’t betray his trust—right?
large hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over each of your cheekbones. midnight eyes bore into yours as he asks, “you promise?”
your heart jumps in your chest—at the feel of his rough palms on your face or the unexpected question, you’re not sure. the intensity behind his lidded gaze almost makes you forget where you are, that he’s not supposed to be touching you like this here, where anyone can see. you take hold of his wrists, pulling his hands down from your face, opting to hold them between your bodies to keep them hidden.
“i promise,” you tell him, voice low so that only the two of you can hear.
the warmth of your hands and the softness of your voice relieve all the tension that’s built up in yuta since he was met with that unsavory sight. he squeezes your hand, lips pulling up into a soft smile.
he knew he could trust you.
life with yuta is as normal as it can be outside of your interactions with your poor classmate. the boy really hasn’t done anything wrong but he still unknowingly bears the brunt of yuta’s irritation and resentment. a simple text from him informing you that he added content to the document and would appreciate you looking it over earns a grimace from yuta if you take too long replying to him.
so, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised when your phone vibrates with a notification—no, two notifications from yuta during your library meeting with your acquaintance. you hope it’s not rude to shift your attention to your phone for a moment. two messages one after the next implies urgency.
> where are you?
> you said you’d be back by 6
so much for urgent. you click the button on the side of the device to put your screen to sleep, not bothering to reply. you’re sure you’ll be wrapping things up here soon and the process will go even quicker if you don’t break to text him back. you make a mental reminder to respond to him as soon as you’re done, flipping the phone so the screen is facing down on the table.
you’re barely able to get another paragraph typed out before your phone is buzzing again, not with a notification but with a phone call. despite not being able to see the caller display, you have an idea of who it is.
“i’m sorry,” you apologize to the man across from you, grabbing your phone off the table. “you don’t mind if i take this, do you? i’ll make it quick.”
he waves his hands in a show of nonchalance. “no, no, go ahead.”
you offer him an apologetic smile before stepping out of the room you two reserved to dedicate some time to your project. when you hear the click of the door announce that it’s closed, you press the accept button on the call.
“hello?”
“where are you?” there’s mild panic laced in his voice as he continues. “you didn’t reply to my texts.”
you should have seen this coming. he isn’t always like this—so obsessive over your whereabouts, but you think you have an inkling of what’s got him so on edge and he’s sitting in the room you just left. “yuta, i’m still at the library. we’re almost done.”
hearing your voice is like an anchor for yuta, keeping him grounded from his unwelcome, wandering thoughts. he tried not to worry when the clock hit six and you weren’t walking through the door, briefly thinking that you got caught in traffic or some other minor inconvenience that kept you a few minutes.
though, as more time passed, the hypotheticals turned to something less innocent—ones that centered around you and him and the sorts of things you could get up to in a room with just the two of you. it made yuta’s head and heart hurt in a way he’s never experienced before but the pain is beginning to subside now that he’s heard from you.
he’s tempted to ask about what’s keeping you but for his own sanity, he buries the question, choosing instead to tell you, “i was just checking in.”
“everything’s fine.” you nod despite him not being able to see.
you hate when he gets like this, stressing himself out over nothing, letting nonexistent things eat away at his mind. but, in the same breath, you love being the one to bring him back to earth, the one he finds solace in. maybe that’s why your voice softens with your next words. “i’ll be home soon.”
there’s a shaky sigh of relief on the other line, one you’re almost sure wasn’t meant to be audible.
“good.”
the final straw comes a couple of weeks later when yuta’s outside your door, fishing around his pocket for the key you’d given him when you moved in. though, before he’s able to find it, the door swings open.
he expects to be met with the sight of you in your loungewear—shorts that ride up your thighs and a shirt that leaves a sliver of skin on your tummy exposed—but the person standing before him is the last person he wants to see, especially in your foyer.
it’s your project partner.
yuta’s eyebrow twitches as he looks at the man, silently wondering just what the hell he’s doing inside your apartment. he’s got a comfortable grin on his face that slowly falls as he turns away from you to find yuta standing in the hall. there’s confusion written over his features and if yuta wasn’t so annoyed, he’d laugh—he’s the one who should be confused.
“hey, man,” your classmate greets yuta cautiously before turning to you. “you know this guy?”
the question seems to be enough for you to finally recognize yuta’s presence. you don’t smile and hug him like you usually do when he shows up at your place. no, instead, your eyes widen like he’s the unwelcome one.
yuta’s skin warms with his boiling blood as his dark gaze flits over to meet that of your guest. “i’m her b-“
“brother!” you cut him off. with the look in his eyes, you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going to say another word that started with the same letter. “he’s my step brother.”
“oh,” the man nods, “nice to meet you.”
yuta musters up as friendly of a smile as he can. if you didn’t know him as well as you do, it would have simply looked like he was caught off guard meeting a new face. and while that’s partially true, you can tell that the smile is forced—that his teeth are really clenched behind his lips and that the sentiment is not shared.
your classmate turns back to you, not taking notice—or, at least, choosing not to acknowledge—the thick awkwardness in the air. “well, i’m heading out. see you in class.”
you give him a wave as he slips out the door past yuta, whose sole attention is now on you.
it doesn’t take a genius to tell what’s on his mind.
“yuta…” your voice usually has a calming effect on the man but it doesn’t seem to work this time around as he slips into your apartment, fingers running through the messy strands of inky hair.
“what was he doing here?” there’s an edge to his tone as the question fills the air—one that’s a mixture of anxiety and possessiveness, something different than what you’ve heard over the past few weeks.
you close the door before facing yuta. the darkness in his eyes from earlier lingers but the anger has dissipated, replaced by uncertainty. the latter is just as chilling.
something tells you that your explanation, no matter how truthful, won’t get through to him—not when he’s so worked up. still, you try to make it clear that nothing was going on between the two of you. you reach out to take his hand in yours so that he stops tugging at his hair. “we were going over our presentation, that’s all.”
the stare he meets you with is heavy, almost intimidating. “you had to bring him home to do that?”
“i didn’t feel like driving to campus so i had him meet me here.” you can see yuta’s jaw clench at your justification. you drop his hand in favor of placing yours on his face. his skin is warm beneath your hands and your fingers graze over the curves of his cheekbones and jaw. he softens under your touch, though the insecurity sticks to his expression. you hope your next words are reassuring. “but nothing happened—i swear.”
there’s an honest glint sparkling in your eyes and a softness to your gaze that convinces yuta that you wouldn’t lie to him—not about this, not about anything. with a deep breath, yuta’s hands come to rest on either side of your waist and he nods—more to himself than anything.
he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it’s eager and greedy, like if he doesn’t do it now, he won’t ever be able to. his tongue runs over your lips, swirls in a dance with yours as he breathes in your air and scent. it’s dizzying and your head is spinning even when he pulls away.
his nips at your lip, nose pressed against yours. “you’re mine, right?”
you nod, parted lips glistening with yuta’s spit.
“then show me.”
the journey to your room is clumsy, kisses interrupted by clothes being strewn about the hallway. though, when you do finally make it to your bedroom, your back meeting the mattress, yuta wastes no time letting his lips roam all over your body. he sucks and nips at your delicate skin, leaving dark marks of his love on your neck, your collarbone, your chest.
the simple sensation draws a melody of moans from you that reaches yuta’s ears, swelling his heart and his cock. he groans—the erection between his legs is almost painful and he finds relief in grinding the head up and down your folds, letting it bump against your clit. the contact elicits a sharp gasp from you and the sound only feeds yuta’s arousal.
he can’t hold himself back any longer.
sinking into you feels like the closest yuta will ever get to paradise. he fights his eyes from rolling back, stops himself from drooling, as he bottoms out in a practiced motion. he usually gives you a moment to adjust around him but he’s far too worked up to allow you the courtesy this time around, almost immediately setting a tempo with his thrusts.
the sound of skin slapping skin as his hips snap into you accompanied by the squelching of your wetness fills the still, thick air of your bedroom. yuta’s choked groans join them and he lets his head fall to rest at the crook of your neck.
his tongue pokes out to lick at your skin, lips latching on to leave yet another purpling spot behind—a sign of his love, a sign that you're his.
the thought causes yuta to bite down on the side of your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave an indent of his teeth. he raises his head to meet your eye, labored breaths tickling your face as he hovers above you. he swallows before pressing his forehead to yours, hips still bucking into you.
“you’re mine,” he breathes out, nails digging into the sheets on either side of you.
you can’t tell whether it’s a question or a statement but you nod the best you can regardless of which it is.
his dark eyes bore into yours, a mixture of passion and possessiveness swimming in his gaze. “say it.”
it takes a moment for you to find your voice and even when you do, your declaration cracks. “i’m yours, yuta.”
“that’s right,” he dips his head down to kiss you, smiling against your lips before pulling away, “all mine.”
yuta’s hand finds its way between your bodies and to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud and drawing heavenly whimpers from you. he starts to lose the rhythmic pace he set as his climax creeps upon him, each thrust growing more and more erratic. a fire sparks to life in your abdomen with the added sensation and you can feel the heat seeping beneath your skin, penetrating your nerves. every part of you is on fire.
the stimulation is soon too much for you, pushing you over the edge and into the deep end of pleasure. the sharp breath you suck in is followed by shaky moans as you ride out your orgasm. with all the pretty noises you’re making and the way your cunt flutters around him, yuta follows not far behind you.
he pulls out before his seed can spill inside you, the warm white ropes of cum spurting on your belly instead. his own moans mingle with yours as he comes down from his high, chest rising and falling with each of his heavy breaths.
his eyes flit up to yours, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face. you lean into his touch instinctively which makes his lips curl up in a smile. you wouldn’t do this for anyone else, would you?
you really are his.
thanks you for reading! if you enjoyed, please reblog or leave a comment! ᡣ𐭩
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuta smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#cw stepcest#𐙚 after hours
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒢𝒪𝒪𝒟 𝑀𝒪𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢, 𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒩𝐸 — waking up beside them
info ⭑ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi ﾉ fluff :3
✰ GOJO rises with the sun which means that he’s almost always up before you. as the birds chirp outside the window and the heater kicks on with its constant hum, satoru takes the seldom moment of peace to watch your sleeping figure. you’ve wiggled your way out of his arms, only partly in his hold, lying so that you’re partially facing him on your side but in the process of rolling over onto your back. he’s tempted to close the gap, pull you close and hug you against his chest but you look too comfortable to rouse. the warm, bright rays of sunlight peek through the curtains and cast an angelic glow on half of your face. he can’t help it when his hand reaches out, lithe fingers tracing the lines of your jaw, from just beneath your ear all the way down to your chin. your eyelashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks as you begin to stir, smiling upon meeting satoru’s familiar cerulean irises. hand moving up to caress your cheek, he jokes about how lucky you are to wake up to such a handsome face every morning but behind his jesting words and signature smirk, he knows it’s the other way around. he’s the one who hit the jackpot.
✰ GETO often finds it difficult to sleep through the entire night which means he’s up while you’re still resting. he doesn’t like the thought of disturbing you so, instead of feeling around for his phone or sneaking off to the kitchen, he stays put beside you in bed. your back is facing him, unobstructed by the fabric of a shirt. he reaches out to touch you faintly, just barely making contact with your soft skin. his middle finger hovers, following the curve of your spine from your neck all the way down to the dip of your lower back. for as long as you’re still sleeping, suguru occupies himself by languidly outlining pretty patterns across your back. you wake to his feathery touch, stretching out your arms and legs before rolling over to face him. suguru greets you with a smile, his face framed by thick pieces of hair that escaped his loose bun sometime last night. you tell him good morning through a yawn as you stroke the rogue strands of hair. the both of you spend the rest of your time in bed planning the day ahead while your fingers detangle the ends of his inky hair and his fingers continue to aimlessly draw lines across the blank canvas of your back.
✰ YUUJI is a clingy sleeper; there’s never a morning when you don’t wake up to him wrapped around you like a koala bear, serving as a second blanket. you wouldn’t be able to move even if you tried, but you don’t attempt to leave his arms for a while after you wake. you cherish the warmth he envelops you in. it’s comfortable enough that you can feel yourself slipping back into a restful slumber, but you fight the urge to fall back asleep. the moment you shift as though you plan on getting up from bed, yuuji’s arms tighten around your midsection and he lets out a sleepy groan in protest. stay a little longer, he pleads, the warmth of his breath sending a chill down your spine and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. it’s impossible to say no to him on most occasions but it’s especially difficult with that morning voice of his. so you stay put and let him snuggle into you. you can feel the smile tugging at his lips as he presses light, soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. his affection is distracting and by the time you get a glimpse of the clock, it’s long past the time you had planned on getting up.
✰ MEGUMI sleeps peacefully, as though he isn’t plagued by a problem in the world. it’s one of the few moments you can be certain he’s free from the stress that seems to follow him during the day. because he looks so tranquil, you can’t help but take a few minutes to look at him after you wake up; his pink parted lips and the long, thick lashes that brush the tops of cheeks. dark strands of hair fall over his face and you almost reach out to push them back when his gravelly voice cuts through the serene air. are you going to stare at me all morning? he asks, eyes still shut, words jumbled since his cheek is pressed up against his arm. you smile, telling him that maybe you just might. his eyes are open by now and the sleepy blue orbs meet yours. despite his words, he doesn’t mind your lingering gaze. megumi finds comfort in being the subject of your stare; not for some selfish reason like being the only person you look at in such a way, but because he can feel every ounce of love behind your eyes. and so, without any objection, he lets you comb his unruly hair back with your fingers, never once taking his eyes off of you or the warm smile you wear while doing so.
hai, it's your friendly neighborhood sua! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#geto x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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୨♡୧ WINDOW TO THE SOUL — dad!gojo. sfw. fluff. i can't stop thinking about papa gojo so pls accept this little blurb :3
“satoru.” you mean for your voice to come out firm but even you can hear the smile behind it. you don’t blame yourself though—how could you not smile at the sight before you?
something about seeing gojo with a baby in his hands seems natural. she’s tiny in his arms, like a fragile glass figure. and even though gojo satoru is the strongest man you know, there’s no chance he’d possibly ever break her. he’s made sure of that much and you can see the promise in his gaze as he stares down at your daughter. when he answers your call, he doesn’t even bother to look in your direction. “hmm?”
“you have to let her sleep.” you keep your voice low but it makes little difference in lulling the girl to sleep when gojo is doing everything in his power to keep her awake. he’s been doing this a lot since you brought the baby home from the hospital a couple months ago, though, you haven’t been able to put your finger on his reasoning behind it. despite his efforts, the little one always drifts off eventually, so you simply drink in the father-daughter time shared between the two of them.
gojo hears you, and he knows you’re right—it’s getting late and her little eyelids are beginning to flutter sleepily, but he can’t help but let his lithe fingers run up and down her chubby cheeks. the soft touch leads to a toothless smile and satoru swears he can see a sparkle twinkle in her eyes as she looks up at him.
it’s moments like these that continuously tempt him to keep the little girl up just a little longer. she makes him believe that eyes are truly the window to the soul because all he sees in hers is unconditional love. no requirements, no expectations, no limitations—just pure, unadulterated love.
satoru never could have imagined he would feel the most worthy in the eyes of a baby.
he cherishes the scene while he can—before she falls asleep for the night, before she grows up and the shiny sparkle in her eye begins to dull with time. he wants to hold onto this little piece of his baby girl for as long as he possibly can.
all too soon, her wispy, white eyelashes are brushing the tops of her cheeks and the girl is off to dreamland. satoru presses a feather-light kiss to his little lady’s forehead and whispers a quiet “goodnight” against her skin.
“you really have a hard time parting with her, huh?” your soft voice sounds from the opposite side of the couch.
it’s only when he looks up and meets your gaze that gojo realizes his daughter’s eyes are a reflection of your own. there are two people in the world who will love him no matter what.
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
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୨♡୧ DRUNKEN CONFESSION — geto suguru x reader. sfw. fluff. college au. reader is intoxicated. lots of flirting + kinda self-indulgent.
never in a million years would you have imagined walking side-by-side with geto like this. the man is practically a celebrity at your school—chased after and envied. and, like it’s normal, he’s here beside you. not as discreetly as you think, you spare him a glance out of the corner of your eye.
you had accidentally bumped into him earlier, the collision resulting in a good majority of the contents of your cup ending up on his shirt. profuse, slurred apologies fell from your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind much about his ruined garment—in fact, he was more concerned about you. so much so that he had been kind enough to offer to walk you home.
thinking back on it now, it was a rather impulsive decision to leave without the group you arrived with, and with a guy you’ve spoken to no more than ten times, at that. but no one’s known for making particularly good decisions while under the influence, right? and, you were smart enough to shoot your friends a text explaining your whereabouts in (what you hoped was) the unlikely event that your choice to take geto up on his offer turned out to be a bad one.
although, that much didn’t seem like it would be the case; he’s been a perfect gentleman thus far—leaving a fair amount of space between the two of you and only letting his hand ghost over the small of your back during those moments when you seem unsteady. you should be thankful that he’s so chivalrous, and you are, but a little part of you, one swayed by the alcohol in your system, was hoping he’d be a little more touchy. nothing inappropriate, just an arm around your shoulder or some simple hand-holding.
you look at geto again, more directly this time. his chocolatey eyes are focused forward and the moonlight glints off the two silver hoops wrapped around his lips. you’ve always found him pretty, but the gentle aura of the night makes his beauty seem even more delicate.
you’re positive you would have ended up staring at him for the rest of the walk if it weren’t for your foot catching on the sudden rise of the sidewalk.
before you’re able to trip forward and make contact with the pavement, geto’s hands are on your hips, firmly pulling your figure against him. “woah, careful there.”
“sorry!” you apologize, wriggling out of his hold so you can turn to face him. he doesn’t look the slightest bit annoyed, in fact, there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. if you were sober, you’d be capable of picking up on the humor hiding in it.
“it’s fine,” he assures you. you’ve been swaying since you two crossed paths at the party and geto has a hard time believing that’ll wear off any time soon.
“we still have a while ‘til we get to your place,” geto’s voice trails off with the last word as he turns around and crouches. you wordlessly stare at his back until he looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. upon seeing your confusion, he spells it out for you. “hop on.”
“are you sure?” you ask him. “i can walk.”
geto’s is sure that statement isn’t true. “yeah, get on.”
you fight the smile threatening your lips as you climb onto his back, your arms loosely wrapping around his neck, wrists crossing at his collarbone. long legs boost the both of you up and geto’s arms snake under the backs of your knees before he sets off in the direction you’d been walking.
the cool breeze is even more evident against the warmth of your cheeks. this is a new proximity, one you haven’t been warranted before. you can feel the bit of skin exposed from beneath his t-shirt against your forearms, see the scrunchie holding the top half of his hair up in its bun. the scent of his shampoo—coconut, you think— wafts through the air, pleasantly meeting your nostrils. it’s hypnotizing, drawing words out of you that you certainly wouldn’t voice if you were sober. “you know, i’ve never really liked guys with long hair.”
he can’t conceal the snort that sounds in the night air. “is that so?”
you hum in confirmation, nodding your head despite geto not being able to see you. the rational part of your brain that would normally urge you to shut up isn’t functioning at the moment, so you continue. “but i like yours. it’s kind of hot.”
geto’s lips wobble in an attempt to hold back his laugh. alcohol makes you bold, huh? on the few occasions you two have interacted in the past, you were never this forward. geto has an eye for picking out those who are interested in him—they don’t make it hard. though, you completely slipped past his radar.
“you think?” he asks through a chuckle.
“yup,” you reply, popping the “p.” there’s no end to your vomit of words. once you’ve started talking, it’s difficult to get you to stop. “all my friends think it’s sexy when you tie it up before practice.”
geto doesn’t know what’s more surprising—how easily you’re giving up the information or the fact that he somehow missed you in the bleachers. it’s not the moral thing to do considering your current state, but he’s curious enough to ask, “what about you?”
“hm? what about me?”
“do you think it’s sexy?” he clarifies.
the burning in your cheeks is back but you don’t feel embarrassed, not the way you would if geto had asked you any other time. alcohol is your truth serum and without thinking of the consequences you’ll be facing in the future, you tell him, “yeah. you’re, like, super attractive.”
he was only teasing before but your answer makes geto’s eyebrows shoot up. as cocky as it sounds, the man doesn’t normally find such declarations surprising. although, that isn’t the case when it comes to you. he has no intention of telling you so when you’re drunk, but the feeling is mutual. geto clears his throat before his next words. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” there’s a sing-songy lilt to your voice that tells him your head is still swimming.
your willingness to so honestly answer each of his inquiries raises another question in geto’s mind. it’s a tad bit shameless on his part but you likely won’t even remember this exchange come morning considering your condition. and, geto thinks, the question is harmless enough—just a little flirting. “so, what do you like most about me?”
“mm, definitely your smile.” your reply comes almost immediately like you had been waiting for the opportunity to tell him so. the observation makes the corners of geto’s lips turn up. “it’s really pretty. but your piercings are a little intimidating.”
“oh?” geto’s pace slows down as he approaches the building you had told him was yours when the two of you were leaving from the party. he squats down to let you off his back and your feet haphazardly meet the pavement before you steady yourself. the crunch of pebbles beneath his shoes sounds in the air as geto turns around to face you. “you don’t like them?”
“i do,” you start, “i just bet it feels weird when you kiss, right?”
once again, geto’s eyebrows meet his hairline in a show of surprise. unconsciously, his tongue pokes out to toy with the cool hoops wrapped around his lips. “wanna see for yourself?”
“what?” you squeak, your eyes widening at geto’s suggestion. sure, you’re curious but that’s not what you meant. for the first time all night, you’re flustered. “i didn’t say that!”
he holds a fist to his mouth to hide his laugh which is still plainly audible despite his effort. with the same hand, he waves you off. “i was kidding.”
your lips are still parted in shock and you can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, but you nod in understanding.
“come on,” geto jerks his head in the direction of your building, “let’s get you inside.”
he leads the way with your instruction, typing in the four-digit pin to gain access and pressing the button in the elevator to take you to the third floor. you stop outside your door to pull your keys out of your bag, sticking the carved metal into the keyhole after a few attempts. you can’t see it, but geto’s lips pull up as he watches your struggle.
when you finally get the door open, you step inside your apartment. geto’s feet stay rooted to the floor of the hallway.
“drink some water before you go to sleep, okay?” he advises you.
too embarrassed to speak after the last mishap, you stick your arm out and thumb up, a smile accompanying the gesture.
your uncharacteristic silence draws a quiet laugh from geto. he raises his hand in a wave. “see you around.”
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto fluff#jjk fluff#geto drabble#jjk drabbles#geto imagines#jjk imagines#geto scenarios#jjk scenarios
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒯𝒲𝒪 𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒲𝒮
info ⭑ itadori yuuji x reader. 1.2 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ basketball player!yuuji
“here comes trouble.” your coworker’s voice juxtaposes the otherwise quiet of the dining area. you look up from your phone that’s supposed to be sitting with your things in the back room. that’s when you see what she means—it’s the group of men making their way from the parking lot to the front door of the diner; the university’s basketball team. “your boyfriend’s with them, too,” she adds.
“boyfriend?” you ask through a snort, shoving the cellular device in your back pocket. your eyes scan each of their faces through the windows as they approach. there’s only one person amidst the crowd that the girl could be talking about. the guy who is pretty much the epitome of friendship and sunshine, hence your coworker’s remark, yuuji itadori.
you shake your head and bump the girl’s hip with your own. the bell above the door rings with your next statement. “shut up and go get them some menus.”
she wiggles her eyebrows at you before turning on her heel and greeting the team. they’re here often; you’re sure that your workplace has become their official spot to visit after winning games they play at home. you’ve never minded their presence. despite your coworker describing them as trouble, the group doesn’t ever cause you any grief. at the most, they’re a little rowdy; still wearing down from the adrenaline of their victory. you find their energy refreshing. it’s not often that you make it to the games since you’re usually busy working during them, so their meals here are as close as you can get to the action.
“i was hoping you’d be working tonight.” a head of soft pink hair pops up in front of you as yuuji takes a seat at the bar. it’s damp and, visibly, you can’t tell whether it’s from him sweating or taking a shower but the citrusy scent that wafts across the counter is enough to tell you that he washed up.
“lucky you, then,” you say with a smile. the corners of his eyes crinkle as he returns the expression, never looking away from you. unlike him, you can’t hold his gaze. he’s far from intimidating but something behind his eyes is intense and you know that you’ll spend an unreasonable amount of time trying to figure out what it is if you keep staring.
you tug the pen off of the pocket of your apron and click it. wet, dark ink is already dragging across the page of your notepad when you ask yuuji for his order. “the usual?”
“yep,” he pops the “p.” each time he’s in here he gets the same thing—a cheeseburger with a side of french fries. you know it by heart now, just like how you’ve come to learn that he’s the type to drizzle ketchup on his fries rather than dipping them. though, tonight he has some interest in another item on the menu. “oh, and can i get a milkshake, too?”
you raise your eyebrows in wonder at the addition to his order but, nevertheless, your hand scribbles down the shorthand for a milkshake. “sure. what flavor?”
“surprise me.”
finally, your eyes dart up from the notepad and land on yuuji. he’s smiling at you. it’s a different smile from the polite one that’s usually plastered on his face. it’s more of a grin, and a cheeky one, at that. you breathe out a short laugh while scrawling down your choice of flavor. “got it.”
the tear that accompanies you ripping the sheet out of the notebook is drowned out by an obnoxious yet predictable cacophony of cheers and laughter. you glance over your shoulder as you turn in the order to the kitchen. yuuji’s team is seated a couple of tables down from where he’s situated at the bar. they always seem to have a fun time winding down after their games. yuuji’s decision to stray from them has always made you wonder why he never joins in on their mini after parties.
you turn to face him. the noise doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest; he’s preoccupied responding to a text. a second later, he sets his phone down and his eyes are back on you. you ask him the question that’s been nagging at you, “how come you never sit with them?”
he shrugs but, despite the indecisive gesture, his answer comes easily like he didn’t have to think about it at all. “i’d rather talk to you.”
his statement makes your eyes widen a bit. you disguise your surprise by lightly shaking your head but you can’t hide the smile threatening your lips. there’s something flattering about it, the way he’s made a habit of drifting towards you. it’s also confusing—you can’t tell whether or not he’s keeping you company just to be nice or if there’s more to it.
you ask him about his game to stop yourself from overthinking the matter, and it works. yuuji has a knack for making anything he talks about interesting. his tone is animated like he’s telling a story and he even goes as far as acting out some of the more thrilling scenes. it’s almost as if you were actually there watching him from the stands. eventually, you’d like to make that a reality.
you’re about to ask him when the next game is when a call from the kitchen catches your attention. you quickly retrieve his order and set it on the counter in front of him. his light caramel eyes fall to the glass holding his milkshake. “strawberry, huh?”
you smile, pointing to your head with one hand while grabbing a straw from your apron with the other. “it’s the hair.” you hold the paper-wrapped cylinder out to him.
he chuckles at the reasoning behind your choice and accepts the straw. a flash of white waves across your eyes. “can i have another one of these? please?”
“got a date?” you kick yourself for letting what was meant to be nothing more than a jealous thought manifest into words. you reach into your apron, hoping that the question sounded like it came from a place of curiosity rather than one of bitterness. because who were you to feel wronged in this situation? you slide the straw across the surface, eager to hear his response.
he picks up the straw from the counter and offers it to you with a bright smile. “only if you’re up for it.”
your heart skips a beat at his unforeseen reply. it’s a straightforward answer to your unspoken queries about his feelings for you. his deviation from his friends and tendency to sit in your section all made sense now. you can decipher that lingering look behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite put your finger on earlier—it’s affection, tenderness—nothing for you to shy away from no matter how intense it is because it didn’t take a genius to tell that you feel the same way.
you pluck the straw from his fingers, mirroring yuuji’s smile. “count me in.”
salutations from sua !! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#itadori yuuji#yuuji x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuji x you#jjk x you#yuuji fluff#jjk fluff#yuuji drabble#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐵𝒪𝒴𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟'𝒮 𝐵𝐸𝒮𝒯 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟
info ⭑ geto suguru x f!reader x gojo satoru. 2k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ established relationship between reader and gojo ﾉ assumed cheating ﾉ moral dilemmas ﾉ sexual implications ﾉ ambiguous ending
note ⭑ this is a LOT of build up lol but thank u if u see past that and give it a read anyway!
“oh my god, baby, you will not believe the day i—oh.” you stop mid-rant when you realize the body sitting on the couch is not your boyfriend. you were so ahead of yourself that you didn’t even think about making sure you were talking to the right person when you walked through the door. to make things worse, it’s geto. “um. hello.”
“hey there.” he offers you a lazy wave and a smile. actually, the curl of his lips resembles more of a smirk.
you linger in the doorway, taking an unusually long amount of time to slip out of your shoes, neatly adjust them, and trade them in for slippers. a tense silence fills the air as you do so. it’s almost suffocating and you can barely bring yourself to drag your eyes away from the floor. though, you think it’ll be even more awkward if you don’t speak, so, you clear your throat before asking, “is satoru here?”
“he’ll be back soon,” geto tells you, setting his phone on the arm of the couch to lend you his undivided attention. you wish he wouldn’t—being the object of his stare makes your skin prick with goosebumps. under his gaze, you feel like prey being watched by a predator. “he just stepped out to that dessert shop down the street.”
sounds plausible, but you hate when he does this—leaves you alone with his best friend. geto doesn’t make you uncomfortable, per se, but the air, the environment, feels thick and strange when it’s just the two of you. you’ve yet to put your finger on why that is.
you nod slowly, chewing the inside of your cheek as you tentatively make your way to the living room. you set your backpack on the floor and plop down between the couch and coffee table, as far away from geto as possible. you pull out your laptop and start opening your notes, never turning around to ask, “you don’t mind if i study out here, do you? i’ll fall asleep if i try to in bed.”
cute, geto thinks. with your back to him, you can’t see the way he’s smiling at you. it’s not the same smirk from earlier but it isn’t innocent either. “go ahead. it’s your place after all.”
“right,” you awkwardly laugh, your pointer finger aimlessly dragging the cursor across your screen.
a strained silence blankets the room. it should be better this way; you can focus on studying and you don’t have to hold a conversation with geto, but something about the quiet is more uncomfortable than talking to him. knowing he’s here but not knowing what he’s thinking or doing puts you on edge. you’ve never been more distracted by someone’s mere presence.
you’re starting to wonder if you should have just holed up in your room when the couch creaks, alerting you of geto’s movement. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at his departure. your relief is short-lived, however, because—unbeknownst to you—geto doesn’t leave, he only situates himself behind you.
you aren’t aware of his newfound proximity until you feel his hands come to rest on your shoulders. the contact makes you jump, your shoulders reaching for your ears. you’re tempted to turn around and face him but there’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that it might be a bad idea. instead, you find your voice to ask, “w-what’re you doing?”
you swear you hear a soft chuckle from behind you as geto’s fingers begin to knead your shoulder blades. the sensation is familiar and if you forgot whose hands were doing the work, you’d let yourself melt into the touch. though, the voice that fills the air is a reminder that the man sitting behind you isn’t your boyfriend. “satoru usually does this when you’re stressed and you seem… tense.”
he isn’t wrong, but the uneasiness you’re experiencing is attributed to one thing, one person, only—geto suguru. his hands feel nice and that much feels wrong. he should stop, right?
“well, you don’t have to—” an unexpected moan cuts your sentence short. it takes a moment for you to accept that the noise that rung through the air was yours. you really can’t look at him now. you clear your throat before speaking up again, more quietly this time. “you don’t have to do that.”
“okay.” and with that word, he stops. the weight, the warmth, of his hands is gone. you weren’t supposed to miss the feeling, so why do you find yourself longing for it?
you still have yet to peer up at geto but the man doesn’t need to see your eyes to know what’s going through your head. your moan was a loud enough message for him. he can’t believe it, but it sounds like gojo’s sneaking suspicion was right. though, geto’s willing to test the waters to be sure. he scoots over and pats the cushion he had just been occupying. “at least get up on the couch. satoru will kill me if he walks in and sees you sitting on the floor.”
alarm bells blare in your head at the invitation but you know he’s right about gojo. your boyfriend should be back any minute now so you suppose there’s no harm in sitting beside geto until then. you uncross your legs and stand up to get comfortable on the couch.
there’s a pair of eyes watching your every move and you can’t help the way your own flit over to meet them. sure enough, onyx irises are honed in on you. it’s difficult to hold his gaze so you offer him a quick smile before turning away. you’re reaching out to grab your laptop when geto’s voice, or rather, his declaration, stops you in your tracks.
“you know, you’re really cute when you try to hide how much you like me.”
after your initial pause, you look at him again. “i don’t do that.”
for a split second, you swear you see his eyebrows raise. as quickly as you see it, it’s gone, replaced by yet another grin. “what?”
“nothing” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “just that you didn’t deny the whole liking me part.”
your heart skips a beat at the realization that you never rejected his claim and it speeds up when you recognize that it might be the reason you’re always so nervous, fidgety, in his presence.
no, that can’t be it. you’re in love with gojo, you can’t have feelings for his best friend. what kind of sorry excuse of a girlfriend would that make you? there’s got to be something else that can explain—
“don’t worry, it’s okay.” his reassurance couldn’t have come at a worse time—when you’re trying to convince yourself what he said isn’t true. and he seems keen on making this even harder with his next admission. “because i like you, too.”
for the first time all day, your eyes meet his and you’re able to keep them there. your lips part in surprise and you’re sure the emotion is reflected in your stare. he can’t really mean that. he’s definitely messing with you… right?
geto seems to have stunned you to silence. he thinks that’s cute, too, how little it takes to fluster you. and it looks good on you, so much so that he’s even more eager to go through with his plan. he inches towards you before letting his hand rest on your knee. you don’t jump like you had earlier. “do you wanna hear the things i’ve thought about you?”
the scene playing out before you feels like a fever dream with how bizarre things are unfolding. and it must be because how else would you explain the subtle nod of your head at geto’s offer?
your agreement comes as a pleasant surprise to the man and he’s quick to continue before you take it back. “i think about how timid you are when it’s just the two of us and wonder if you’d be the same way with my hands exploring your skin.”
as if to emphasize his words, he drags his fingers from your knee to the middle of your thigh where the hem of your skirt sits. the movement is agonizingly slow and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, but geto never takes his eyes off of yours.
“and that moan of yours,” your cheeks and the tips of your ears heat up at the reminder, “i’ve thought of that, too—if you’d make such pretty sounds when i’m touching you like this.”
geto squeezes your thigh, firm but not painful. the gesture elicits another whimper from you, though, it’s muffled this time around.
“i guess you do, huh?” he rubs a hand over your leg, his lips curling up into a smirk. his touch doesn’t linger for long as the calloused hand on your thigh rises and makes its way up to your face. his hand hovers over your cheeks before cradling the side of your face, thumb running along your lower lip.
“but most of all,” he starts, leaning in closer, “i’ve wondered what these lips would taste like on my tongue.”
there’s a jolt in your tummy that sends arousal between your legs. you rub your legs together for some friction—some relief—but it isn’t nearly enough. you need something more—thick fingers or a hard cock. the direction your mind goes causes your lips to part.
geto’s tongue runs along his lips upon seeing yours separate. he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s looking forward to—like he’s two seconds away from devouring you. still, he courteously asks, “are you gonna let me find out?”
“i can’t,” you whisper. “satoru—”
he leans in even closer, only a hair’s breadth away from your mouth. his breath mingles with yours with his next whispered words. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”
each thud of your heart against your ribs is audible in your ears, like the rhythmic bang of a drum. it must be loud enough for geto to hear, too. it’s drowning out the voice of reason urging you to do anything but lean forward and press your lips against his.
you don’t listen to its pleas.
the sensation of geto’s pillowy lips only lasts for a moment as yours brush against his. the brief contact sends a surge of electricity beneath your skin that you feel throughout your entire body. geto dips his head down for a deeper kiss when the click of the door opening hits your ears.
you freeze like a deer in headlights at the noise, not daring to turn around. geto doesn’t look nearly as alarmed as you, in fact, the expression he wears is one that makes it seem as though he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. there’s no visible sign of guilt behind his eyes.
he greets the man at the door easily. “hey, man.”
the rustling of plastic sounds in the air before gojo replies. “did she do it?”
your heart jumps at the mention of you. do what?
“just barely,” geto tells him, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. “you seriously have the worst timing. she probably would have let me stick my tongue down her throat if you had taken another minute.”
the horrifying fact makes you fist the fabric of your skirt. the burning of your skin is back but it isn’t arousal this time around—it’s shame and embarrassment. how are you supposed to look at your boyfriend now that you’ve kissed his best friend?
heavy footsteps warn you of gojo’s approach. you’re desperately trying to come up with an explanation when he kneels down in front of you. his eyes are like magnets, forcing your gaze to meet his. dark glasses hold his light hair back like a headband, preventing the snowy strands from hiding his clear blue irises. you can’t read him.
“did you like it?”
“what?” your voice is weak. you can barely hear it.
“it felt nice, right?” he asks with a smile. it’s genuine, too, like he really wants to hear that you enjoyed taking part in your naughty deed. “you want more, don’t you?”
his questions aren’t accusatory the way you expected them to be. he doesn’t sound upset or angry the way he should. you spare a glance over to geto. there’s a look in his eyes, one that you’ve seen gojo wear plenty of times—one that means he’s hungry.
it’s only then that you realize what’s going on. this wasn’t some elaborate stunt to find out whether or not you’d be faithful to your boyfriend, it was a strategy to see how you feel about geto and it seems as though their findings have been promising if their reactions are any evidence.
maybe you can give in to your disgraceful attraction to your boyfriend’s best friend.
you turn to face gojo once more, pulling your lip between your teeth and nodding in response to his questions.
gojo breathes out a short laugh before tilting his head and letting his eyes shift over to geto. “see, suguru, i told you she’d be into it.”
hey there, it's manz! now that you've read the whole fic, i can tell you where i was going with the ending :3 so, in my mind, this was a ton of build up to a threesome. not sure if it came across that way, but yeah! although, if you'd like to think of it more as a "gojo letting geto have sex with you" kind of thing, that's cool too!
thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#geto x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#geto x you#jjk x you#geto drabble#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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— 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 (𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓉?) ౨ৎ
geto suguru x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ smut (nsfw, MDNI) ﾉ college au ﾉ fuckboy!geto ﾉ fingering ﾉ petnames ("baby" + "good girl") ﾉ geto is a little mean :3 ﾉ degradation if u squint
your life has changed a lot in the past few months and, strangely enough, it’s not because you’re entering a new phase of it. it’s because you’ve met a new person. a dorm room that isn’t yours has become like a second home to you and a man that you can’t be sure feels the same has all but stolen your heart.
to be lovesick is absolutely humiliating.
you think that much as you lay on geto suguru’s bed. he sits at his desk and you watch as nimble fingers fly across the keyboard of his phone. other than the light hum of music playing from his speaker—so low that you can’t even make out the lyrics—the room is uncomfortably quiet. you speak up to break the silence. “who are you texting?”
“why do you want to know?” he asks, eyes flitting up for just a moment, a short second, to look at you. you hate when people do that—answer a question with another question, but the usual annoyance that causes you to roll your eyes is nowhere to be found in this case. looks like geto is an exception.
he shouldn’t be.
in an attempt to downplay your pestering, you simply shrug. “i’m naturally curious, i suppose.”
suguru clicks his phone off and carelessly slides it across his desk. for the first time since you got here, you feel like you have his undivided attention. you smile at that but the grin on geto’s lips should be enough to warn you that something less pleasant than his attentiveness is coming. “more like naturally nosy.”
you scoff and then pout at his comment, rolling onto your back and focusing your eyes on the ceiling instead of facing him. is it not perfectly reasonable to want to know who’s occupying the attention of the guy who invited you over? you don’t think so but you also know that you selfishly want to be the only thing—the only person—geto is concerned with.
he chuckles and despite it being at your expense, the sound makes your heart flutter in your chest. geto has an effect on you that you can’t really describe, one that makes you just as bothered as it does excited. any flicker of annoyance that sparks within you goes as quickly as it comes and is replaced by a much longer-lasting feeling of longing—yearning.
from the corner of your eye, you can see geto moving. you can feel him, his warmth, getting closer, too. you feign disinterest and indifference by keeping your gaze glued upwards. although, his next words make your ears perk up. “do you really want to know?”
against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at suguru. he’s leaning in his desk chair, one arm thrown over the back of it and legs spread wider than they should be. dark strands of hair spill from the loose bun situated on the back of his head and frame the smooth skin of his face. obsidian eyes bore into you and the grin from earlier is still tugging at his lips. it’s playful but you don’t feel like you’re in on whatever he’s got planned.
still, they don’t say curiosity killed the cat for nothing.
“yeah, i do.”
reaching behind him, geto pulls the elastic out of his hair, letting it fall over his shoulders. you try to ignore the urge to run your fingers through it. as he gathers the silky strands in his hands to tie it up more neatly, he tells you, “it was a girl from my psychology class. she invited me to a party tonight.”
you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything impulsive, but the thoughts cloud your mind, nevertheless. why would you tell me that? are you trying to make me jealous? how can you so easily hurt my feelings with a smile on your face?
you’re able to pick out one thought from the rest that doesn’t make you seem envious beyond reason or shine a spotlight on your heartache. “are you gonna go?”
he hums and shrugs. “i’m not sure.”
disappointment fills your chest with his answer but you try not to let it show on your face. you can feel sorry for yourself in silence—geto doesn’t need to pity you, though, you’re not even sure that he would.
but, as you look at him from your place on his bed, you can’t help but think he looks unsatisfied by your lack of reaction. the grin pulling at his lips looks more lazy, like the corners had slowly fallen since he spoke last. “what do you think; should i go?”
you want to tell him no, that he shouldn’t go, that he should spend the night here with you like he’d intended to and not ditch you for some girl that butted in on your plans. but the words are stuck in your throat, an uncomfortable lump that you can’t seem to get out.
“if you want me to stay here with you, then tell me.” his words are almost sweet, encouraging, before the next part. “because if you don’t, i’m leaving.”
you've done a pretty good job of concealing your emotions up until now but you can’t stop the frown that takes over your face as you sit up—the way the corners of your lips tilt down and how your eyebrows scrunch together. “no! i don’t want you to go.”
the thought of some other girl cozying up to suguru creates a flurry of emotions within you—jealousy, anger, insecurity. just imagining someone else on his lap, someone else playing with his hair, someone else kissing him makes you sick. you can’t hide how that affects you no matter how hard you try.
it seems as though your mini-outburst is exactly what geto was looking for. something about the way you’re wrapped around his finger floods the man with a sense of accomplishment. you’re practically putty in his hands—his to shape and mold. and he likes it. he likes it a lot.
“oh?” he can’t stop the way the corners of his lips turn up. he leans forward the slightest bit but the short distance brings him closer to you. “why don’t you show me how much you want me to stay?”
your tongue pokes out to wet your lips and the little motion catches geto’s attention. the obsidian shards that are his eyes follow the glistening stripe your tongue leaves behind before flitting up to meet your gaze. there’s expectation swimming in the dark irises. that and the fear of the man standing up and walking out the door urge you forward.
his lips against yours are soft, pillowy, like a marshmallow and his breath is minty. the two make for an intoxicating mixture and, suddenly, you can’t get enough of him. a whiny whimper of yours sounds throughout the quiet air of the dorm and the noise, as indistinct as it is, seems to convey every bit of your need to geto.
and he’s more than willing to give.
a hand makes its way to your neck, fingers tipping your head back and firmly holding you in place as suguru deepens the kiss. your tongues meet in a messy, passionate dance and it almost feels like you don’t need to come up for air—his kiss is all the oxygen you need. at least, that’s what you think.
by the time you pull away, your lips are tingling and the taste of the man lingers.
“that’s all?” his eyebrow quirks with his question. “with the way you were pouting earlier, i thought you really wanted me to stick around.”
“i do,” you tell him, trying to keep the neediness out of your voice. that part is easier said than done. the way he’s staring you down with such intense anticipation makes you eager to please and turns you on more than you’d like to admit.
you rub your thighs together in an attempt to grant yourself some relief. the movement isn’t as subtle as you think or geto is more observant than you’d ever realized because his eyes drift down to your legs, curiosity—or maybe enthusiasm—glimmering in them.
and it takes almost no time at all for his hands to rest on your knees. they’re cool to the touch and your skin beneath them erupts with goosebumps at the contact. his palms make their way up your legs, over your thighs, and under the fabric of your skirt agonizingly slowly. you’re growing warmer by the second and it feels like you’re on fire by the time his fingers finally graze the lace of your underwear.
it’s a struggle not to squirm with his hands so close—mere centimeters away from where you desperately want him. the pad of his thumb runs over the trim of your panties, so slowly that you’re sure he’s teasing you on purpose. still, you keep any sounds of protest from bubbling up your throat in concern that your impatience will only come to your detriment.
your choice to stay quiet for the time being is rewarded when geto’s thumb ghosts over your clit. it hovers for a moment before pushing against the sensitive pearl, drawing a sharp gasp from your chest. it’s only now that you realize your panties are practically sticking to you.
“now this is convincing.” you wouldn’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s smiling—you can hear it in his voice. his gaze flicks up to you with his next words. “are you this wet from one little kiss, baby?”
your head moves up and down in a bashful nod. that earns a laugh from geto, a small one that he breathes out through his nose. you don’t have time to pout at him before all of your focus turns to the way his thumb begins to circle against your clit. you have to try twice as hard to concentrate on any of his questions. “is this why you wanted me to stay? so i could touch you? so i could fuck you with my fingers?”
it feels embarrassing—shameful—to say yes. and, beyond how heavenly his hands feel on you, what you really wanted, more than anything, was for him to choose you.
“tell me.” his thumb slows. “if you don’t, i’ll stop.”
your heart jumps at that and your answer comes soon after. “i want you to touch me. i want you to make me come.”
geto’s lips stretch into a smile. “good girl.”
deft fingers hook your panties to move them to the side. the air that meets your wetness makes you suck in a breath that you nearly choke on when those very same fingers start gliding between your folds. they work at spreading and collecting your essence, all while his thumb continues to swirl the sensitive nub.
your soft moans are music to geto’s ears but he can’t help but want more, can’t help but want you louder. he bites back a grin as his middle finger probes at your hole, teases your opening. his eyes flit up to read your reaction and he takes note of the way your eyes ever so slightly widen as he slowly pushes into you.
geto lets out a breath before letting himself smile. “this pretty pussy stretches so good for me, yeah?”
it’s always a surprise just how filling one of his fingers is—how much one of his fingers can set your nerves ablaze. and maybe you should be embarrassed at how little it takes—a finger and some dirty talk—for pleasure to build in your abdomen, for heat to pool in your cheeks, but the bliss outweighs any shame buzzing within you.
“feels s’good,” you tell him, the statement punctuated by a whimper. the words come out slurred, the spit pooling in your mouth meshing them together.
your declaration is all the motivation geto needs to continue plunging his finger in and out of you, to keep circling your swollen clit. his hunger grows with your pleasure and the man is beginning to think that he wants you to orgasm as much as you do. he licks his lips before letting another finger delve between your folds.
the invasion makes your eyes squeeze shut and your lips fall apart. despite the hint of pain, once you’ve adjusted to the newfound fullness, the addition is all the more satisfying. the way his knuckles graze against your walls and the way the pads of his fingers curl up and push against the spongy spot that fuels the fire within you bring you all the closer to your precipice. you’re practically writhing on his fingers in only a matter of minutes and all it takes to snap the tension and push you over the edge is the harsh feel of geto’s thumb flicking over your clit
you come undone on his fingers, crying out his name without a care as to who can hear on the other side of the thin walls of his dorm. the only thing you’re concerned with at the moment is how geto works you down from your high, lets his fingers leisurely pump in and out of you.
he takes note of how pretty you look with a sheen of sweat glazed over your face and how you can’t seem to control just how shaky your thighs are. you really are fun to play with.
and, luckily for you, you’ve done a good job of convincing him to stay.
as geto finally pulls his fingers out from you, he reaches for the buckle of his belt with his other hand. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “should i fuck you for real now?”
thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, pls consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#geto x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto x you#jjk x you#geto smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto drabble#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#𐙚 after hours
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— 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓈𝑒 ౨ৎ
okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.2k wc. ﾉ smut ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ unprotected sex ﾉ tit + nipple play ﾉ a hint of dacryphilia ﾉ brief handjob ﾉ mentions of cheating (neither yuta nor reader) ﾉ yuta is a little obsessive
note: eeee it's yuta's birthday ! ! i wrote this fairly quickly to post in time so pls forgive any mistakes :3 enjoy + wish the pretty boy a happy bday ❤︎
yuta has imagined your first time at his place on more occasions than he can recall and none of them could have prepared him for the reality of your first visit—sitting on his couch with your knees hugged to your chest, quiet sniffles filling the air as warm tears stream down your cheeks. it’s a bit awkward, partly because of your crying but mostly because yuta doesn’t mind it. he’s sure that a majority of men wouldn’t see this as attractive or opportunistic but, as he pulls a tissue from the box to offer you, yuta can’t help but think that this moment is perfect.
“i can’t believe he’d cheat on me.” you accept the tissue from yuta, dabbing the corners of your watery eyes. you crumple the kleenex in your hand but the action seems a bit premature as a new set of tears glaze over your eyes. a couple of them spill past your lashes when you turn to face yuta. he swallows the lump in his throat that comes with being the subject of your tearful gaze. it must be wrong to find you so pretty when you’re clearly upset. “do you think it was me? could i have done something to push him away?”
yuta’s head is shaking in denial as soon as the question falls from your lips. he can’t believe that you’d ever think that. what could you have possibly done to push him into another woman’s arms? if you were to ask him, he’d tell you that your ex was the dumbest man on planet earth for leaving you—and for someone else, at that. though, he’d also have to thank your idiotic ex for letting you go. he never deserved you to begin with and his absence was the opening that yuta often found himself praying for.
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” yuta tries to reassure you with a soft smile. he wills his hand to stop shaking as it comes up to wipe your tears away. the palm of his hand is warm against your face, the pad of his thumb rough but comforting as it brushes your cheek. the contact makes your eyes widen and lips part—you’ve been friends with yuta for a while now but he’s never touched you like this. it’s tender and you like it. to your dismay, he only lets his fingers linger a second longer before bashfully pulling away, choosing to clumsily scratch at his neck instead.
“i’m sure that you were a perfect girlfriend,” yuta tells you, and then he thinks better of his words. “not that him cheating on you would have been excusable if you weren’t!” he raises his hands and waves them in dismissal. if yuta were lucky enough to call himself your boyfriend, no number of little mistakes or miscommunications would run him away. he’d be by your side for the long haul. he’d never want to let you go.
“i just mean…” he looks up to the ceiling as he gathers the hectic thoughts bouncing around in his head into a coherent sentence. “nothing you did drove him to that.”
with a sigh, yuta closes his eyes and shakes his head subtly. his nerves are starting to get to him and he doesn’t want some stupid jitters to be what ruins this chance for him. you’re finally within his reach, just an arm’s length away, his for the taking.
he’s gotta pull himself together.
when the man tilts his head down and opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you. it shouldn’t make him jump, but your body is turned to face him and you’re closer than you had been before. he can feel his heart thump against his chest at the proximity but he supposes it’s a good sign. his words didn’t rub you the wrong way like he thought they might have—he’s still got a chance.
your knees are tucked beneath you now, hands resting on your thighs. your fingers nervously tap at your leg as you hold yuta’s gaze. you couldn’t be exactly sure why yuta was the first one you called upon finding out that your relationship had all but crumbled. maybe it had to do with the fact that he always seemed to want to help or maybe it was simply the fact that he was always around. regardless of the reasoning, the overwhelming sadness you had felt when you arrived is beginning to dissipate, replaced by new feelings that you’re sure you shouldn’t be acting on.
but that fleeting thought doesn’t stop you from asking, “you really think so?”
he nods, never taking his eyes off yours. “i do—”
his words jumble as you lean forward to press your lips against his. you can feel him gasp a bit but he doesn’t pull away. his lips are warm and softer than you thought they’d be. it’s a sloppy kiss, uncoordinated and messy with spit, though, that fact doesn’t stop either of you from deepening it—from chasing more.
your leg swings over his thighs so that you’re straddling him, hands coming up to cup his jaw as you run your tongue along his lower lip. your chest and yuta’s rise and fall with heavy breaths between the two of you. the air surrounding you is thick and charged and you want nothing more than to feed off of it. “is this okay?”
“yeah, but…” he doesn’t want to come off as too eager, although, he’s sure you’re having no trouble telling with the way you’re grinding on the growing tent in his jeans. he hopes he doesn’t regret asking, “are you sure?”
“i just—i need to get my mind off of him. i need a distraction,” you tell yuta, rolling your hips against his. your hands drop from his face in favor of making their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark, inky strands as you stare into the depths of his widened eyes. “can you be that for me?”
a strangled moan—one that yuta desperately tries, and fails, to hold back—sounds in the quiet air of his living room. nothing would make him happier than to be yours to use. the hands that had once been stiffly resting at his sides come up to make a home on your waist. “god, yes, i can.”
his confirmation is all you need to dip your head down and capture his lips in yet another kiss. yuta doesn’t attempt to swallow down his moans and you don’t either—not that it would be possible upon feeling his bulge rhythmically nudge your panty-clad clit. the contact makes your skin prickle with goosebumps and contributes to the growing wetness between your legs.
impatience overcomes you as your mind races with thoughts of what yuta feels like without all the fabric barriers. you reach down between your bodies to fumble with the buckle of his belt, lips still occupied with his. with your attention divided, it takes you a couple of botched attempts before you’re finally able to loosen his belt, undo his button, and pull down his zipper.
the sequence of actions reveals his black underwear and brings you one step closer to seeing him in his entirety. yuta’s breath hitches in his throat as you palm his cock and you take that as an opportunity to break away from the kiss, turning your full focus to the member between his legs.
your fingers slip under the waistband of his boxer briefs and pull the cotton down, releasing his erection. it slaps against his t-shirt and the cool air must bite against his head because you can hear him hiss at the new position.
your hand hesitantly hovers, eyes locking onto his in a silent plea for permission to touch him. he catches on quickly, hurriedly nodding. he’s imagined this countless times, too—how your fingers would feel wrapped around his cock. and yuta thinks he’s been patient enough until now.
when you finally take him in your hand, he’s warm and heavy in your grasp. the precum beading at his slit is plentiful. you let your thumb run over the opening, spreading the pre over his head and down his shaft, slowly stroking his length. he’s painfully hard, so much so that yuta tosses his head back to rest on the couch cushion.
he fidgets with the hem of your shirt that hugs your midsection in an effort to keep himself grounded. at this rate, he’s going to come all over your hand. he needs something to busy his mind with to keep that much from happening. “can i—” he swallows thickly before tipping his chin down to look you in the eye, “can i take off your shirt?”
you hum, raising your arms over your head so that he can pull your tee off. your absence between his legs doesn’t go unnoticed as he tugs the shirt off your torso. the fabric falls from the light grip of his fingers when he realizes that you aren’t wearing a bra. his cheeks grow impossibly warmer upon being met with the sight of your bare chest, though, instead of giving in to embarrassment, yuta’s hands come up to massage your tits.
as good as it feels to have his hands all over you, you’re aching for something more. so, while you have no intention of stopping him, you reach under your skirt to pull your panties to the side. both sets of your eyes are glued to the space between you, the space that lessens with each inch you take as you slowly sink down onto his cock. the stretch makes your lips part and your head loll as you adjust to his size.
“shit,” yuta swears under his breath, his thumbs sweeping over your hardened nipples. he can’t believe he’s buried in you, being swallowed by your warmth. he didn’t know it was possible to feel this way—like he’s walking on clouds. his next words come out quiet and breathy, so low that you can barely hear them. “you feel so good.”
a small smile pulls at the corners of your lips at his whispered statement. you’d tell him the same if you weren’t more concerned with chasing your high. as your hands come to rest on his shoulders, you lift yourself up and down, setting a relaxed rhythm that’s just enough to attain the pleasure you’re after.
it’s mesmerizing, yuta thinks, the way your breasts bounce as you ride him. he licks his lips hungrily before latching onto one of your nipples. his tongue swirls against the peak while lithe fingers pinch at and roll the other between his rough pads. the moans that push past his lips and vibrate against your skin as he sucks at your tits fuel the fire of arousal in your abdomen.
you dig your nails into his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt bunching together in your grasp with your tightened grip. between his touch, his mouth, and the way his cock head keeps bumping your g-spot, you’re not sure that you want to—or can—draw this out for any longer.
your pace quickens as your climax approaches and the rhythm you took care setting earlier has all but disappeared as your hips knock into yuta’s. your hastened tempo makes his cock twitch. that feeling of tightness in his muscles returns, the one that warns him of his impending orgasm. while he wouldn’t be ashamed to come before you, he thinks it would be more romantic if you do it together.
with his lip pulled between his teeth, yuta’s hand sneaks down to rub your clit. the unexpected touch makes you gasp in surprise. his fingers must be magic or the closest thing to it because a few simple circles are all it takes to snap the tension that had been building up in your tummy.
yuta’s name is sweet on your lips as you cry out for him. your walls spasm around his cock as your orgasm washes over you, nails biting into his shoulder blades in an attempt to ground yourself.
yuta is sure that his desire to come inside of you is unmatched, though, he isn’t sure now is an appropriate time to do so. so, he ignores the devilish thoughts begging him—urging him—to paint your insides white. he pulls out and lets his cum spurt on his sweaty shirt with a shaky groan.
beyond your shared heavy breaths, yuta’s apartment is silent. it gives you both a moment to think about what just happened, but the thoughts on your minds starkly contrast.
you’re starting to feel the weight of your actions and you’re almost positive that the regret will be in full effect once you’ve slept on it for a night. it’s not typical of you to take on rebounds and certainly not ones that run in your everyday circle. you’ll be lucky if yuta is willing to forget that any of this happened.
unlike you, yuta feels absolutely and positively weightless. you’ve successfully put every fantasy he could dream up with you to shame. if it was this good the first time, he can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when he actually gets to fuck you—when he’s able to call you his.
thanks for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, pls consider reblogging or commenting :3
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuta smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#𐙚 after hours
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸
info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending
note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !
the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.
because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.
the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.
regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.
you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence.
“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.
you believe him.
your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”
“got me there,” you softly admit.
geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”
the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.
“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”
with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.
you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.
“okay, let’s talk.”
the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.
it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.
you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”
he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”
you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”
“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”
the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now���how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.
it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.
you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”
“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.
“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.
you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?
“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”
geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”
“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”
there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again.
the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?
tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.
you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.
“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.
one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”
“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”
the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?
you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.
“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”
geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.
his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”
beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.
you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”
there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.
“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”
you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.
you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”
geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”
“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”
“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.
hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto x you#jjk x you#geto drabble#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios
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— TAG INDEX
☁︎ manon's mind - ramblings on dash.
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