#help i can’t stop grinning
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…Yeah, this really needs its own post. You’re in for a wild ride, @pisces-hideout.
So yes, William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson were total frenemies and their Goku-Vegeta dynamic is as good as historical fact. And it is absolutely glorious.
So Ben Jonson was eight years younger than Shakespeare, a bricklayer-turned-soldier who came into playacting/writing around the late 1590s (seriously, what’s with all the most important people in Shakespeare’s life being 8 years apart from him in age?). Shakespeare and Jonson first met (per Shakespeare’s first biographer Nicholas Rowe) when Jonson submitted his first play, Every Man In His Humour, to Shakespeare’s troupe, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men. The LCM disliked the play and were ready to refuse it—except Shakespeare, who gave it a quick look and persuaded his troupe to perform it. After that they became friends and even drinking buddies…but that didn’t stop Jonson from giving Shakespeare hell, though.
Because from the get-go Jonson was the complete opposite of Shakespeare in every way. Arrogant, irascible, macho, scholarly, and opinionated, he 1) was a consummate artiste who wrote super slowly and 2) fought with and made enemies of other play poets, wrote plays, poetry, social and lit criticism, and pretty much doing everything under the sun. He was also very political and spoke truth to power; a controversial play he co-wrote with Tom Nashe literally got him arrested and thrown in the Tower (where he famously converted to Catholicism). While a lot of his plays were commercial failures, he was renowned for his literary work and got an intense following by other pretentious fans called the Tribe of Ben—and of course his satiric social comedies were all the rage in the 1600s.
Oh, and he also killed people. In war, yeah, but also one guy in a duel. Gabriel Spenser, a fellow actor. Got his thumb branded for it. Yeah.
And yes, homeboy ragged on Shakespeare. He straight up told his buddy that Shakespeare “wanted [lacked] art.” He criticized him for his awful geography, particularly giving Ilyria (Czechoslovakia) a coastline. And when Shakespeare’s fellow actors gushed about how Shakespeare was such a genius that he never blotted a single line, Jonson tartly replied, “Would he had blotted a thousand!”
He also had this to say about Shakespeare:
In the end he was a tsundere a softie. After Shakespeare’s death, he wrote an especially great dedicatory poem (“To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr William Shakespeare”) for Shakespeare’s First Folio, famously calling him “Sweet Swan of Avon!” With regards to his family, he was a total yandere; he called his wife “a shrew, but honest” and wrote the most touching tribute to his son Ben when he died.
Shakespeare, meanwhile, wrote fast and effortlessly (per the actors), had a good reputation, did not involve himself in ~theater drama, did not court followers, was consistently successful…and by all accounts trolled Jonson superbly. Check it out:
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
#🤣#william shakespeare#ben jonson#cristina is silly#life of will#help i can’t stop grinning#there are definite shades of mozart-salieri as well#i 100% believe that ben jonson had angst over not being good enough#and here is shakespeare by all accounts having a blast#dragon ball z#gifs#did i neglect to mention that ben jonson was poet laurate of england#yep#ben jonson: i am the prince of all poets!!!!#ben jonson was a real life tsundere#still better than shakespeare/marlowe
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JJK MEN: BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK?
✩ ‧ ˚. [ GOJO, TOJI, GETO ] your boyfriend's gone for work, and you gotta convince him to come back home over the phone... NSFW
contents: fem!reader. phone sex, voice kink, video taking, dick pics, blah blah blah. you can probably guess the rest. not proofread + mostly written while i was half-asleep. 2.3k words.
★ ━ SATORU GOJO
“baby, i miss you,” satoru mumbles, voice soft and sleepy from the other end of the phone. you hear the sound of sheets rustling against his phone’s microphone as he rolls over, groaning softly. “i can’t wait to come home to you.”
you plop down on your bed and turn your phone on speaker as you rest your back against the headboard, stifling a yawn before you reply. “me too… it’s so lonely without you here.”
“i know,” satoru says, and even though it’s not a video call, you’re absolutely certain he’s grinning like the cocky idiot he is. “tell me ‘bout your day, sweetheart. wanna know what you’ve been doing without me.”
you roll your eyes and smile, checking your nails as you reply. “nothing much, it’s kinda boring without you here.”
“tell me more,” satoru murmurs, and he thinks that he’s so lucky you two aren’t on a facetime call, because his hand is slipping down to the waistband of his pants and he’s tugging them off, releasing his already-hardened dick. “i wanna know everything.”
you don’t think much of the way satoru’s breathing has gotten noticeably choppier as you ramble about the little things that’ve happened in your day so far—after all, how could you know that he’s stroking himself to the sound of your voice?
“so, yeah, that’s basically everything,” you finish, exhaling softly. the moment you stop talking, you hear the soft groans that satoru’s been fighting to hide the whole time, and suddenly, it clicks. “wait, satoru, have you been fucking yourself the whole ti—”
“maybe,” your boyfriend replies instantly, pausing and taking a long, unsteady breath before he continues, “wanna join me?” you don’t reply immediately, but soon, his voice turns pleading. “c’mon, baby, missin’ you so much… lemme hear you, sweet girl. help your boyfriend out, pleeea—”
“okay, okay,” you give in, reaching down and tugging off your shorts. a second later, your panties are discarded as well, and your fingers start to circle your clit at the sound of satoru’s voice.
“mm, you touching yourself, baby?” satoru breathes, hand still wrapped around his dick. you hum in agreement, and the hand holding your phone grows tighter the faster your circles get. satoru clicks his tongue after a couple seconds, and adds, “don’t hold back, i wanna hear you.”
“okay,” you mumble, missing his familiar touch now more than ever. “i miss you so much, ‘toru,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky from your own fingers. but it still isn’t enough to push you over the edge—you both know that only satoru has the skill to do that.
“i know you do,” satoru teases, an amused lilt in his voice. “bet those pretty hands of yours couldn’t make ya cum half as fast as i could, yeah?”
he’s right, but it doesn’t stop you from trying—god, you wish your boyfriend were here and inside of you, but for now, his voice is all that you have. “baby, these past couple days, all i could—fuck, all i could think about was that pretty pussy of yours,” satoru chokes out, hand moving up and down the length of his dick faster. “so tight f’me, all just for me,” he mumbles, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth.
“s-satoru, i need you,” you mewl out, legs starting to tremble just at the thought of him. “need your dick inside of me, plea—”
“can’t do that, princess,” satoru sighs, groaning at the sound of your desperate request. “wish i could, though.. but we gotta wait for a couple days, fuck.”
you stop rubbing your clit and instead slip two fingers inside your cunt, wrist shaking at you pump your fingers up and down at his request. “s’ not as good as you, ‘toru,” you whine, hips unconsciously rocking against your hand. “come home soon, please, can’t wait for that long—”
satoru laughs breathily and moans shamelessly into his phone, mumbling something about work or a mission or something—but you don’t really catch the details, too occupied with fucking yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. “so impatient, aren’t ya?” satoru exhales, thrusting into his own fist and fantasizing about your warm, tight cunt instead. “fuck, baby, miss you and your cunt so fuckin’ bad—”
“then come home, ‘toru,” you plead, hardly able to choke out your words coherently. “please, satoru, i need you here—”
your boyfriend cuts you off with a series of porn-worthy groans, mixing in your name wherever he can as he cums into his hand. it’s not satisfying, and it doesn’t feel half as good as it would if he were fucking your pussy instead. so, after a couple seconds, he mumbles, “whatever you say, princess, i’ll be there by tomorrow.”
★ ━ TOJI FUSHIGURO
“you’re an asshole,” you mutter into your phone. toji only scoffs in reply, a disbelieving edge to his voice. “toji, listen to me—”
“i’m listenin’, princess,” toji grumbles. “yeah, i know i said i’d be home by tonight, but somethin’ came up. s’ not my fault i’m surrounded by idiots.” and he makes no effort of hiding his disdain at your stubbornness—some things were just out of his control, including how long it took for most of his missions to get completed.
“don’t call me that,” you snap, climbing into your bed and pulling a pillow onto your lap. toji sighs, and it’s a long, lengthy exhale that surely has to be exaggerated. “fuck you, toji, you promised you’d be home by tonight.”
your boyfriend laughs incredulously into his phone, chortling for a good twenty seconds before he replies, “i don’t remember promising anything, n’ what do ya need me home for anyways? what’s so fuckin’ important, huh?”
well, there’s no way you’re telling him the real reason you want him home so badly—he’d just laugh at you and your desperation for him. but honestly, after going for more than a week without his dick, you’re really fucking close to telling him that. instead, you reply, “maybe i just miss my boyfriend.”
“more like you just want dick, don’t ya, pretty?”
toji sees right through your pitiful lies—he always does. you don’t respond for a long while, and your boyfriend fills up the silence by laughing again. “shoulda just said so. i missed fuckin’ that tight cunt of yours too, idiot.”
“so will you come home now?”
“mm, you gotta convince me.”
“how?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face.
“show me jus’ how much you miss me, and maybe i’ll consider comin’ back early if you can prove it to me,” toji says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as your screen lights up with a request to facetime.
you accept, and a second later, your boyfriend’s face fills up your screen. his dark eyes are squinted from the sudden light, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when he sees you. “hey, princess.”
“hey, asshole.”
“you want to get fucked tomorrow night or not?” he drawls, a lazy smile playing on his face when that shuts you up. “now c’mon, let’s see that pussy. open wide f’me.”
you mutter something about him being the worst boyfriend ever before you tug down the waistband of your panties, exposing your neglected, puffy cunt. your clothes are quickly discarded somewhere, allowing you to angle your phone downwards and show toji what he’s missing.
“oh, fuckin’ hell,” toji mutters, navy eyes fixed on your cunt as you slip two fingers inside and start pumping them in and out of your hole. the dim lighting of your room bounces off the slick already coating your cunt, making it look wetter than ever to toji—and you can practically see the longing in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself.
“please, toji,” you mumble, spreading your legs even wider to show off your pussy to him. “miss you so much, please—fuck, please come home,” you plead, doing your best to put on a show for him. at this point, you’re so touch starved that you’d do anything to get him back—anything to satisfy you, since your own fingers can’t even give you half the pleasure toji can.
“so desperate, aren’t ya?” toji tuts, eying you with interest. “tch, pathetic…”
you whine in response to his words, hips rolling against your own hand as you futilely try to convince your head that it’s a dick in between your legs and not your own fingers. “fuck, toji, i’ll do anythin—”
“anything?” he instantly cuts you off, cocking an eyebrow as if he’s intrigued. you nod desperately, almost willing to do anything and everything for him if it meant he could fill up the empty spot in between your thighs. “you promise?”
“y-yeah, anything,” you whimper, throwing your head back as your hand starts to grow sore.
toji hums in approval, and a moment later, he replies, “alright then. i’ll head back tomorrow mornin’, but you’re getting fucked for the whole night after. n’ i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘toji, it’s too much!’ bullshit, m’kay?” he snaps, mimicking your voice by raising his pitch two octaves.
“okay, i promise,” you choke out, and the second the words leave your lips, toji hangs up.
asshole.
★ ━ SUGURU GETO
“suguru, i miss you,” you mumble into your phone, burying your face into the blankets wrapped around your shoulders. usually, it’s rare for you to feel cold within your bedroom—suguru’s presence seems to make everything warmer. but right now, he’s not here, and even your own room feels barren without his comforting aura. “it’s so empty here without you…”
“is it, now?” suguru replies coyly from the other end of the call. he’s at some sort of meeting right now, but apparently, he’s on his break—which is good, because you imagine that it might be a little embarrassing for him to take this call if he were in the middle of the meeting. “i miss you too, baby. you and that pretty pussy of yours, heh.”
“sugu—”
your boyfriend interrupts you with a soft, teasing laugh, lowering his voice when he adds, “do you want to know what i’d do to you if i was with you right now?”
you swallow back the “yes” you so desperately want to say, instead whispering, “aren’t you in public?”
“nah, i’m in the bathroom right now,” suguru clarifies. “now c’mon, answer the question.”
“...yeah,” you admit. it’s been over a week since you last had any sort of sexual contact with suguru—you’ll take what you can get.
your boyfriend laughs again, sultry voice pouring out your phone’s speakers and straight into your throbbing cunt when he starts describing—in great detail—the things he would do to you if he was on top of you right now.
“...and then, i would flip you over and fuck you face-down ass-up for hours,” suguru adds casually, enjoying the sounds of your muffled moans—you’re trying so hard to hide them, but little do you know that it’s only too obvious to suguru.
two of your fingers are circling your clit as suguru speaks, and your own hand is clasped over your mouth as you struggle to hide the effects of suguru’s voice on you—and he just keeps talking.
“yeah, and when i finally let you cum all over my dick, i’d just keep going,” suguru cooes, tempted to pull down his pants and take care of his own boner right then and there. but unlike you, your boyfriend has some ounce of resilience, and as he checks the time on his phone, he realizes that he has to get back to his meeting soon anyways.
“suguru—” you moan, unable to stifle your little whimpers any longer. “wan’ you so bad, please—”
“silly girl, what do you mean, you want me so bad?” suguru says amusedly. “i’m already yours, aren’t i?”
“you know what i mean,” you huff, rocking your hips against your fingers in an attempt to force yourself to cum. but unfortunately, ever since you started fucking with suguru, your own fingers aren’t good enough—even if you could hypothetically make yourself orgasm, it wouldn’t give you even a fraction of the pleasure your boyfriend could. “please, sugu, i wanna see you.”
and just like that, any remaining self-restraint suguru has snaps—the sound of you begging is enough to make him do anything in the world.
suguru hastily unzips his pants, releasing his dripping dick. he runs his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum all over its head. “fuck, baby, i’m at work right now,” he mutters into his phone, rolling his eyes affectionately when he hears you giggle. “one pic. then i’m going back to my meeting.”
“m’kay!” you agree, pulling the phone away from your ear and turning it on speaker as you eagerly wait for the pictures to send.
suguru holds up his phone and snaps a picture of his dick resting in his palm, stroking it with that hand and sending you the image with the other. “alright, sweetheart, gotta get back to work,” suguru sighs, unable to get his boner to settle down—he figures the only way it’ll happen is if he ends the call, which he really needs to do.
“aw, do you have to?”
“yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mutters, removing the phone from his ear to end the call.
“wait, what’re you sending me—oh, fuck, you’re the worst,” suguru groans when he clicks the notification and sees a video of what you’re doing to yourself right now—it’s a five second video of you pumping your fingers in and out of your puffy cunt to his voice, and there goes his resolve to stay at work.
“i fuckin’ hate you, baby… see you in a couple hours.”
#osaemu#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#toji x reader#toji smut#geto x reader#geto smut#gojo satoru smut#toji fushiguro smut#geto suguru smut#gojo x you#toji x you#geto x you
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friends with benefits with nanami wouldn’t work because he would think you deserve better. you think your arrangement is going well, kento has never complained before, and you’re certainly more than satisfied in bed. he’s handsome, strong, kind, generous with aftercare, and really fucking good with his mouth, so there are no complaints on your end. which is why it’s such a surprise to you when kento confesses that he doesn’t like the way he’s been treating you, and no matter how much you insist that it’s fine, and reassure him that he treats you more than well enough, he refuses.
“but kento, i’m okay with this,” you attempt to convince him that hooking up is enough—he doesn’t need to feel like he has to do more for you, “you’re good to me, and not just in bed. please don’t feel like you owe me more.”
“you deserve something proper,” he’s adamant, shaking his head, “you deserve more than convenient sex.”
“but what if this is all i want?” you can’t help but to tease him. he looks awfully cute with his arms crossed, respectful refusal written all over his face, “i think eating me out on a weekly basis is quite enough, it would just be greedy for me to ask for more, don’t you think?”
your jokes don’t amuse him, but his expression keeps you giggling. still, nanami sighs, and grumbles, “you should want more. it’s not greedy.”
“kento, if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re telling me to raise my standards.”
he blinks, cheeks pink with irritation and eyes hollow with tiredness. you push every single one of his buttons and he doesn’t know why, but he would never stop you. maybe that’s where this impeding guilt is coming from—kento likes you, and he doesn’t enjoy feeling like he’s using you, even if you get to use him in return. he doesn’t want your relationship to be transactional, and he doesn’t like that you think such a relationship is okay.
because, guilt aside, kento knows he wants more of you; he wants all of you. and even if you don’t want him back, he thinks you should know that you’re worth having all of, and nothing less.
“maybe i am,” he settles, “you are worth more than an occasional hookup. you should be treated better than this, and i am sorry that i have let it go on for this long.”
“this is ridiculous—you’re nothing but good to me! and i like having sex with you. if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, that’s fine, but—”
“i didn’t say that,” he interrupts.
“so… you do wanna keep sleeping with me?”
“yes. but we should go on a date before we continue.”
“but what if our date is terrible. do we still get to have post-first date sex?”
he shakes his head, stepping closer to you and holding your forearms before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “i don’t put out on the first date.”
you scoff, taking a half-step closer, snaking your arms around his torso, and grinning up at him, “what a prude.”
at that he smiles, before bending his neck to indulge you in one last kiss. “i’ll pick you up at seven.”
#kento nanami........ the man that you are#you really could be having perfectly good mind blowing mutually agreed upon fwb sex and he'd be like... no. we're gonna have to date#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk imagines#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#kento x reader#nanami smut#nanami fluff#nanami x you#💌.kento
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞
❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞
✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,
✧ wc: 16,043
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!
“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,”
You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it.
You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead.
“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?”
“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,”
“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,”
You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?”
“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,”
“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?”
“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,”
Yup, you have a headache now.
“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?”
Why were you considering this?
“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?”
“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?”
“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“
“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble.
“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor.
And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it.
Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life.
And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this.
He said your name, “Well?”
He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did.
It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place.
“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself.
Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now.
His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was.
“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair.
“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh.
You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?”
“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,”
“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror.
“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?”
“Gojo, this is—“
“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,”
Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?”
“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,”
You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“
“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way.
“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion.
“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed.
Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most.
“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event.
And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did.
“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn.
“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,”
His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?”
You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate.
And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them.
“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“
“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled.
“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,”
The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,”
“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours.
“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,”
You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?”
He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,”
“No one can see us,”
“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,”
Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling.
“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?”
You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks.
“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?”
“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn.
“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.
“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,”
You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“
He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you.
“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare.
You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?”
Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had.
“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst.
So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,”
But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?”
You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?”
Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.”
“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“
“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,”
“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,”
You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?”
“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”
It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru.
And you really didn’t hate Suguru — it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him.
You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs.
And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend.
“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“
“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?”
But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it.
“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“
“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?”
You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,”
His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?”
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm.
And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.
“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”
“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.”
“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,”
He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.”
And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—
You were already there.
You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious.
But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point.
how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended?
You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.
Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad
You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds
It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge.
This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later.
This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you—
“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?”
“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,”
“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?”
He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter.
“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?”
“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,”
“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it.
“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,”
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them.
All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t.
He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one?
You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again.
Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen
You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy.
You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept.
You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen.
You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?”
“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?”
“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,”
“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?”
You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly.
“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?”
“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,”
He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?”
Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,”
“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts.
“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,”
But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”
You glanced at the time, he’s late.
Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground.
Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked.
Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad.
It was probably the latter.
You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel.
“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,”
You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?”
“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh.
“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch.
“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?”
“A bad rom com,”
He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,”
“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,”
He sighs, running fingers through his hair, “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,”
“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,”
“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table.
“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,”
“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,”
“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,”
“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,”
You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,”
And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?”
“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem.
It was unspoken.
Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t.
You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now.
Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever.
Your neck hurts.
The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed.
Or what you thought was your bed.
Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear.
Gojo.
Gojo???
Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears?
You really should have fucking known better.
Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer.
And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh.
Fuck. Your. Life.
He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes.
Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first.
And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?”
“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—”
And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone.
“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur.
“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace.
“What is it?”
“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?”
You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,”
Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan.
Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.
“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,”
“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,”
He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?”
“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long.
“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Right. Tomorrow. The wedding.
Fuck. You were so screwed.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything.
You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress.
Another knock.
“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?”
You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?”
Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square.
“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,”
You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,”
“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair.
“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,”
“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?”
“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,”
“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,”
“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks.
“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,”
“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”
You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this.
A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan.
And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over.
“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it.
“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?”
“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips.
“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,”
Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in, “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his.
Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—”
“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?”
Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?”
Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you.
“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,”
And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh.
“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”
Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—”
“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips.
“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—”
“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?”
His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“
Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”
He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act?
Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins.
And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru.
Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him.
Like it always never was.
The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,”
You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours.
And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—”
“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—”
“My apartment isn’t—”
“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do.
“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away.
“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo, “Gojo, what do you want me to say?”
He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“
The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head.
“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“
“But what you said—“
“I said what I had to—“
“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room.
“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“
“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?”
“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“
“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,”
“You don’t have to—“
“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,”
“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand.
“Give you what?”
And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“
“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop.
No, it was. It was, right?
“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“
“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“
“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,”
Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,”
He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?”
“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“
And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?”
“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you.
“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?”
“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,”
His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone.
His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer.
“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards.
“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,”
“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin.
“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,”
“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.
“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,”
Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”
“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,”
“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.
And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”
“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress.
He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?”
Slap. It’s definitely a slap.
“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest.
“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?”
“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance.
“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you.
“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,”
“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders.
“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away.
“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.”
~~~~
Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name.
“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.
Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side.
And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate.
But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you.
And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —-
And he realized it was you.
“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“
“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?”
“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat.
Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you.
“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?”
Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit.
“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased.
“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,”
“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,”
“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief.
He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit.
His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,”
And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back.
You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined.
“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,”
And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips.
“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin.
“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,”
And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.”
Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“
“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life.
Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again.
“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off, I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.
He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body.
“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle.
“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,”
“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes.
“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—”
“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—”
“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out.
“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face.
“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you.
“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit.
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours.
He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.”
Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist.
Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips.
Fuck, it was real.
You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake.
But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more.
“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse.
“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?”
“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort.
“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body.
“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,”
You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,”
And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?”
“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow.
“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips.
“How about we make breakfast together?”
“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.
“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised.
“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good.
“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,”
You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?”
And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”
He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,”
“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck.
“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,”
“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile.
“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,”
And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?”
“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze.
And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,”
“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.”
You didn’t know what to do with yourself.
Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present.
And you supposed the soul wasn’t present.
You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.
You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you?
You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it.
And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview.
You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture.
Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation.
A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now?
There’s only one person who’d text like that.
Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now?
He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business.
Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly.
You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink.
Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head.
You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you.
But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that.
“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman.
“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets.
“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go.
“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,”
“I was expecting to meet
I suppose we’re on the same page,”
He tilts his head, “Really?”
“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,”
He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,”
She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her.
“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her.
“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?”
She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“
He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you.
Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways.
“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back.
Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen.
You needed to talk to him in person.
And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet.
You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt.
“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,”
“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,”
“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line.
And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,”
“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,”
And he’s blinking, “Why?”
“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—”
“But you didn’t—”
“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,”
“Why do you always push me away when we get close?”
“No I don’t—”
“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?”
“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”
He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,”
You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?”
“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?”
“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“
“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,”
“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?”
He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“
“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“
“But—“
“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?”
And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,”
“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.”
And this time he doesn’t stop you.
It’s for the best.
That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas.
It was for the best.
Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories.
And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them.
Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru.
Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did.
And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing.
Fuck. You were home.
You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye.
Gojo?
You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name.
You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops.
Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address.
Satoru was…getting married?
It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here.
You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove.
You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved.
Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot.
You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors.
You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy.
Even if it wasn’t with you.
So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now.
So you wait.
And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom.
That wasn’t Satoru.
He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding?
And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were.
“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head.
“But you—what?” and his brow furrows.
“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands.
“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.”
He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?”
You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze, “Satoru—”
His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips.
“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—”
And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it.
“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek.
“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,”
And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,”
“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake.
“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,
“Well, you don’t know until you try.”
✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).
✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo fluff
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji can’t get his deserved rest due to his baby boy keeping him awake.
wc. 707
tags. dad!toji x female reader. nothing else to add; just pure fluff.
“he’s kickin’ me again,” toji complains with a deep sigh. tiny feet keep patting his back, not allowing the man to sleep at all. the culprit is none other than megumi—his beloved, yet bratty, son.
the little boy lays between you and your husband. you figured that this was best since megumi kept wailing each time you put him back in his crib.
you chuckle at toji’s groans of annoyance. your son is still full of energy, even if it’s already super late at night. your hand brushes against megumi’s chubby cheek and you can’t help but squeeze it lightly.
that action gains you a high-pitched squeak. you sigh and keep your child occupied with the movement of your finger against his face, “it’s his way of asking for attention, honey.”
toji grumbles something under his breath and scoots away from the both of you. megumi’s head turns towards his dad, his attention caught by the rustling of the sheets. you raise an eyebrow in response to toji putting distance between you both.
“papa’s mean,” you huff, talking to your baby. you can’t see toji’s face since his broad back is obstructing the view, though you can easily guess that he’s frowning.
maybe even secretly sulking about the lack of sleep. you do understand, however. he’s worked hard all day to provide for both megumi and you.
“papa,” megumi speaks up with an adorable pout on his lips. he crawls over to toji before you can stop him. the little boy taps at toji’s back again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
megumi’s need for attention and affection from his father is heartwarming to see. you reach out towards your son in hopes of picking him back up. toji needs his rest after all.
a deep sigh escapes toji’s lips. not one of frustration this time, but rather one of defeat. he opens his eyes and turns around to face megumi. the man’s stoic face softens the moment he sees those cute doe eyes staring up at him.
“c’mere,” toji grumbles and lifts his child’s tiny body up without any effort. megumi giggles instantly and reaches his hands out to hold his dad’s face. your husband playfully bites your son’s tiny fingers instead, “not gonna allow y’r dad to sleep, huh? tsk tsk.”
you watch the scene unfold with a tender smile. toji lowers his head and starts blowing raspberries against megumi’s tummy. the baby squeals and giggles uncontrollably, writhing around in toji’s embrace.
“this is what ya get for being a brat,” toji mumbles and switches to leaving kisses along the little boy’s belly. that makes megumi laugh as well due to the ticklishness.
toji grins. his earlier drowsiness and annoyance have vanished into thin air. he can’t possibly stay mad at his son. not after seeing megumi happy. and especially not after seeing your content smile too.
“mama! mama!” megumi laughs between cries of help. his tiny hand reaches out to you whilst toji continues the little attack on his tummy. you chuckle and decide to intervene.
you scoot over to the other side and shield megumi’s tiny body from your husband’s tickles. you frown and playfully scold him, “stay away from my baby, you big bad guy.”
toji raises an eyebrow in amusement. he bites back a laugh before cocking his head to the side, that familiar smug expression appearing on his face.
“oh yeah? ‘m the bad guy now, eh?” the dark-haired man rolls his eyes. he towers over both you and your son - who’s giggling and still holding tightly onto you, “all right. i’ll show you just how bad i can be then.”
your eyes widen the moment you feel toji’s fingers land underneath your shirt, touching your bare skin. not a second passes by and he’s already tickling you. his other hand reaches for megumi’s tummy again—now making the both of you squirm and giggle loudly.
the happy sounds echo throughout the room. perhaps even loud enough for your neighbours to hear at four in the morning. but, you don’t care about any possible noise complaints. not during this cozy family moment.
plus toji’s fond smile as he continues torturing you and your son is definitely worth all of it.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x you#toji x y/n
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CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI
CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)
☆☆☆
thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.
Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).
Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.
Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website
Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.
Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.
Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.
~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~
Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.
~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~
he wanted to be nonchalant.
Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called
“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”
Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.
Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.
Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.
“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”
#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#toji x reader#jjk#jjk toji#toji smut#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#prison#prison toji#inmate#inmate toji#pen pals#jail#jail toji#toji x y/n#jujutsu toji#feral#i need him#I LOVE TERRIBLE MEN#toji headcanons#smutish
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YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒
𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.
𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!
☆ CHOSO KAMO
probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.
choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.
“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”
his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.
again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.
oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can’t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.
in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’
and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”
so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.
“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.
mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”
with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.
“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.
“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”
“yes baby.”
“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”
you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”
“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.
although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.
stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.
“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”
“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.
this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.
his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.
“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”
“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”
“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”
“just give me a baby, daddy.”
“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.
and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”
such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.
with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”
“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”
“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”
he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.
“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”
“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”
“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”
his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.
with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”
☆ GOJO SATORU
he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.
gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.
he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.
“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”
he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”
“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“
“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”
so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”
so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”
and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#gojo smut#sukuna smut#choso smut#toji x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk headcanons#jujustsu kaisen smut#anime smut#female reader#cw sex mention
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☆ SNEAKY LINK — dad's best friend!TOJI FUSHIGURO
summary: your dad didn't even need to tell you that his best friend was off limits, but you just couldn't help yourself. and on another visit home from university, he's the first person you get your hands on.
wc: 4.2k. (major slay from me)
cw: afab!reader, semi public sex, you fuck in a car, outside, he fingers you at the table, and eats you out in your childhood room <33 slight breeding kink, + your dad is clueless poor man so MDNI
an: was s'posed to write this yesterday but it didn't show up in the tags, so hopefully you guys can see this now and give it some love. never really done long smut before so give it a chance people!! fanks @kazushawty for beta'ing some, this is for you
there was always something about your dad’s best friend, toji fushiguro, that you just couldn’t ignore. your dad had loads of friends throughout the years, and you never batted an eyelid. so when your dad brought toji to dinner for the first time, you couldn’t just disregard the way he looked, more importantly how he looked at you—making you end up sucking his dick in the bathroom of your family home, before dessert was even served.
you were away at university, making your little ‘relationship’ with toji a fleeting one, but best believe whenever you touched your home city, toji always found a way to touch you. “so you manage to find y’self a boyfriend, up at that fancy uni of yours?” toji asks, a sly grin playing on his lips, as he starts the car, pulling out of the train station parking lot.
“no, none of them are to my taste,” you respond shortly, trying to keep your composure, and maintain your focus on anything but him. you knew why he was asking, just so he could feel his pride swell when you say no. since he was always quick to remind you whenever you fucked that after being with him you woulnd’t want a dumb little college boy—and he was right.
“aww that's too bad,” he mocks, his hand easing its way onto your thigh as if it’s nothing, “a pretty thing like you, should be basking in boys.” you roll your eyes at his teasing, but you can’t ignore the slight quickening of your heart as his hand gives your thigh a light squeeze.
you both pretend as if you aren’t fucking eachother anytime your dad was around, it was easier to keep up the facade that way. neither of you wanted to hurt your dad, toji actually enjoyed his friendship and would never want to hurt his ‘oh so precious daughter.’’ but when he pictures how your tits bounce and how your ass shakes whenever he drives his dick into you, he was okay with losing a friendship if that meant he could continue to fuck you.
the rest of the ride was a comfortable silence, there was no more small talk, just the faded hum of the radio and your thoughts racing as toji’s hand remains on you. you were finally parked in the driveway of your home, “thanks for the ride home fushiguro,” you mumble, ready to leave his car.
“fushiguro? were you not calling me toji last time you saw me?” he questions puzzled, his hand laying on your arm — stopping you from exiting the car, as his mouth comes up to your ear, “ whilst i was stuffing you full with my dick?”
“can we not do this here?” you grit out, trying not to react to the feeling of his touch, you look around the driveway and see your dads car parked right in front of toji’s. “my dad’s home.”
“so?” he shrugs, tugging against your clothes, “c’mon you know you wanna give me a little something before i leave.” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be fucking your dad’s oldest friend — especially not when he’s only ten metres away. but the look that toji gives you, the lustful glint in his eyes, and the way his thick fingers toy with the hem of your jeans, you just couldn’t say no.
“make it quick,” you whisper, looking around your surroundings before pouncing on toji. the windows of his car weren’t tinted, but your neighbourhood is a quiet one, so as long he fucked you swiftly, you shouldn’t get caught.
“i don’t know why you’ve got this pouty look on your face,” he smirks, watching as you eagerly get yourself out of jeans, not fully, but just enough so that you could slide right onto his dick. “you want this just as bad as i do, don’t you?”
you didn’t bother responding, letting the way your pussy clenches around his throbbing member, be the answer to his question. there's a shared moan between you, with toji throwing his head back onto the headrest as he watches you ride him. his hands grip onto your ass, aiding you in bouncing up and down on his dick.
“c’mere,” he murmurs, his hand moving up off of your ass to lightly grip your chin as he directs your mouth to his. he kisses you sensually, the slow pace matching the rhythm of your ass grinding against him. your arms snake their way around his neck, your hands stroking the hair that falls just above his nape.
“f-fuck,” you moan against his mouth, your boobs press against his chest as he thrust into you deeper. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing your increasing screams, as his hips dig into your ass further.
“y’better quiet down princess,” he mocks, pressing a quick peck to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he watches you chase his mouth, whimpering to have more of him. “you don’t want your daddy to hear us and come outside d’ya?”
“‘don’t care,” you whine, rutting your hips down against him, wanting him to stuff you full, to fuck you hard, not caring about who hears or sees you.
“oh you don’t care do you?” he continues to taunt, his fingers roaming across your chest — toying with the buttons of your shirt. and as you nod to his question, your pussy clenching down around his dick achingly, he grins, “get out of the car.”
“what?” you pause, trying to register if you’ve heard him correctly.
“you heard me,” he shrugs, his hands going to your hips to take you off your dick, “get out of the car, and lean right up against the hood for me.”
“you’re joking right?” you scoff, staring at him in shock, but his gaze is locked with yours without faltering, oh he was serious alright. “but what about my da—”
“what about him? you didn’t care about him seeing us a second again when you were slutting yourself out on my dick did you,” he continues to taunt, his thumb rubbing against your aching clit, toying with the folds of your soaking pussy — persuading you. “now i'm not gonna tell you again, get rid of the jeans fully and lean against the hood of my car.”
he didn’t have to say anything else after that, the way he was playing with your pussy reminded you of what need. so you quickly get rid of your jeans, and get out of his car, a giggle escaping your lips as toji’s hand collides with your ass.
you lean against the hood of his car, your arms stretching against it in excitement as toji comes behind you, palming your ass before stroking the slit of your pussy with his dick. he doesn’t even give you time to breathe before shoving himself back inside of you. his hand coming to the back of your neck to push you down, as he charges his dick back inside of you.
“you like that?” he grins, as he drives into you deeper, the squelching of your dripping pussy around his dick, music to his ears. you nod, eagerly, too dick drunk to formulate a sentence —content in just rocking your ass back against his hips ready for him to cum inside of you.
“t-toji ‘m so close,” you whine, begging for that final push so you could reach your peak, “please j-just let me cum, i-i need to cum.”
“i’ll let you cu—”
“toji buddy! is that you?” you both pause, frozen in place as you hear your dads voice from the inside. you scramble apart from one another, toji pushing you off his dick and zipping up his pants, trying to regain his composure as he catches his breath. you dive back into your seats, aggressively shimmying into your jeans, panicked. ‘fuck toji for making me take these all the way off,’ you think to yourself, as you awkwardly pull your jeans up. you check the rear view mirror, to try and not look freshly fucked as your father nears the car.
“dad!” you exclaim, giving your father a hug and sending a quit look to toji that reads ‘shut the fuck up.’ your dad returns your hug with a tight squeeze.
“hey sweetheart, was toji here giving you a ride from the station?” he asks, a joyful smile on his face
“yeah i was giving her a ride alright,” toji mutters, his innuendo going straight over your fathers head as he looks back and forth between you, clueless. “she was showing me all the new things she’s learnt at uni, and boy has your daughter learnt a lot.” he flashes you a wink, that your dad misses, and you quickly glare at him in response.
“oh she’s a smart one isn’t she?” you dad boasts, practically parading you off and toji nods in response thinking to himself, ‘if only you could see how dumb she gets filled with my cum.’
you swiftly exit the space between your father and his friend, hoping that toji just leaves, although you didn’t get to finish, nearly being caught by your dad, panicked you. you give toji a brisk nod as a goodbye, as you grab your bags out of the car but you pause as you hear your dad ask him, “so, are you staying for dinner?” it was going to be a long night.
you spent the rest of the evening avoiding both your dad and toji, you couldn’t trust yourself to be around both of them without letting something slip. toji had just as much to lose, if your dad did find out about your activities, but that didn’t stop him from giving sly comments and looks just to see your scared, flushed face whenever you thought he was going to say something about it.
when dinner starts you knew you were going to fold, fast. toji was sitting next to you, but his gaze was fixed on you with a teasing glint in his eyes. his mouth drops to your ear as he whispers, “doesn’t this remind you of when we first met? you teasing me all night before dropping on your knees for me in the bathroom upstairs.”
“what are you two gossiping about over there?” your dad asks as he enters the room with your food, and you immediately tense up hearing his voice, shifting away from toji to not give yourself away.
“oh i was just reminding her about when we first met at dinner all those years ago,” toji responded quickly, his composure kept cool as if he wasn’t just talking about you sucking his dick minutes ago. “a lot has changed since then.”
“yeah, my baby has really grown up and matured since then, haven't you?” your dad coos at you and you give toji a subtle elbow to his stomach under the table. but toji just can’t let up, enjoying your jumpy vibe a bit too much.
he nods in agreement with your dad, “yeah she’s really become a woman, right under our eyes.” he taunts, and only you knew that he was referring to how he felt that your body was built just for him. toji loved every inch of you, your face, tits and ass was a complete package that he just couldn’t get enough of.
unbeknownst to your dad, toji’s hand slips underneath the table and right into your pants. your eyes cut towards his, and he the subtle raise of his eyebrow tells you he’s not gonna stop —and you weren’t planning on trying to stop him.
you open your legs wider, to grant him further access, smiling along at your dad as he cluelessly babbles on to the both of you. toji was both attentive to the conversation and to your pussy. to anyone else it wouldn’t look like his fingers were curling up inside of you, your cunt coating his fingers as he slowly drives them into you.
as dinner continues, your hands remain clenched on your cutlery as you try and distract yourself from the growing feeling you were getting as toji rubs your pussy. he was casual about it too, laughing and joking with your dad as if his fingers weren’t getting drenched.
you were trying so hard to not ride his fingers in your seat, to not let your father see you getting slutted out by his best friend right in front of him. the thickness of his fingers were stretching your pussy wider, and his pace was achingly slow, to sensual for the burning desire you’ve been craving for him all day. but there is nothing you can do, and toji knew tha. the slight smirk on his face and spark in his eye was telling to the fact that he was aware of how badly you need him, and was amused by the needy little look on your face that you poorly try to mask.
“so how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asks you, his question snapping you out of your dazed state. you choke slightly on your drink since you didn’t actually have a boyfriend but you couldn’t exactly tell him about the special guy you are seeing.
“h-he’s…great,” you respond, your voice faltering as you could feel toji’s eyes burning a hole in your head. his fingers pinch against your clit, punishingly and your eyes bounce between your father and him.
“we should have him over for dinner soon,” your dad suggests excitedly, “so we can all meet him.”
“yeah sure dad,” you lie, hoping that is enough to appease your father. but it definitely didn’t appease toji, he swiftly removes his fingers out of your pants, and he sends your a glare when your father wasn’t looking before going back to eating his food—with both hands.
dinner was a silent affair after that exchange, there were no more subtle sly comments from toji and your dad had worn out all the possible stories he could share about you. so you finish your meal in silence, your pussy still throbbing hard.
“that was a great meal as always,” toji compliments your dad, getting up out of his seat, “do you mind if i use the bathroom real quick before i head home?”
“yeah my home’s your home, do as you please,” your dad grins at him, “i’m gonna go and do these dishes, it was good seeing you,” your dad presses a kiss to your head and gives toji a handshake before heading to the kitchen.
with your dad now out of sight you could now see toji’s face and he was tense, to say the least. he was standing in the threshold of the door and all it took was the raising of his eyebrows and a shake of his head for you to know that he wanted your ass upstairs with him quick.
he led you to your childhood bedroom and he was already toying with the posters of random anime that you had plastered all over your walls, “cute.”
“toji i thought we agreed to not do this in the house anymore?” is the first thing you ask. after you first met and made a mess of your household bathroom, you both agreed that it would be easier if you just didn’t fuck in your house anymore to save the chance of your dad catching on. but it seems after today, toji couldn’t care less.
“a boyfriend huh,” he spits out with a bitter chuckle, turning to look at you, “what happened to ‘none of those boys are to my taste.’”
“they aren’t,” you persist, folding your arms childishly as you try and get your point across. he doesn’t even respond, just raising his eyebrow at you in disbelief, thinking about your conversation with your father. “do you really think i could tell my dad about the real guy i’ve been fucking all this time? ”
he shrugs in response, his anger settling a bit in knowing now that you didn't actually have a boyfriend. “i didn’t peg you as a jealous type, in case you forgot, you’re the family friend not my boyfriend. so if i was to actually let one of these college guys date me, that’ll be okay.”
“oh it would be okay would it?” he mocks, stepping closer to you, “so i’m just this family friend, not the guy you slut yourself out for whenever you see me?” you couldn’t deny that, so you remain quiet, your heart pulsing as toji nears you.
he grabs your hand and shoves it right down his pants so you could feel his throbbing dick, “y’know i’ve been hard for you all day, after your clueless dad had to ruin our fun earlier i’ve bursting to cum,” his dick pulses in your hold, emphasising his point, “and now it turns out that all i am to you is just a family friend, damn.”
“i didn’t mean it in that way,” you say, slightly regretting your choice of words, “i just think it’s a bit silly of you to be getting wound up, at your big age, over some hypothetical boyfriend when all we do is fuck.”
“at my big age? the fuck, im not even that ol—” he stops himself because he knows he could say whole lot that could have you crying quick. “i’m gonna let you have your little outburst here, but i did not drag you upstairs for this.”
“and what did you drag me up here for then?” you quiz, his dick still feeling the warmth of your hand. his arm snakes around your waist as he presses you close, your tits rubbing right against his chest.
“well y’know i’ve been dying to fuck you in your bedroom,” he murmurs, he leads you over to your bed, chuckling as he pushes you down next to your stuffed animals, and childish shit that you’ve kept. he pulls down your jeans as he kneels down at the edge of your bed, a wide grin etched across his face, “i’ve been wanting to keep you out of these all fucking day,” he says as he flings your jeans across the room.
“don’t forget your dad’s downstairs and we can’t let him ruin what we’ve got going on can we?” he pulls your down the bed so your pussy’s closer to your face, he snaps off your underwear and peppers a kiss onto your clit. you hiss at the contact of his mouth on you, and his eyes look up at you, “so you can be quiet for me, right?”
you nod eagerly, clenching your eyes as his mouth suctions onto your clit, biting and nibbling at it. you hold your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, already gripping onto his hair to steady yourself. he’s barely done anything yet and he’s already got you losing your mind.
he drags his tongue down your wet slit, lapping up the sweetness from your pussy. you sigh harder, the grip on his hair only getting tighter the more his mouth works on your cunt. toji laughs as he taunts, “‘you’re just a family friend toji,’ yeah seems like it.”
“s-shut up,” you pant out, clenching your thighs around his head as tongue inches deeper and deeper into your pussy, his nose pushed right into your arousal, breathing in every bit of you. “y-you are just a family friend.”
“whatever,” he smirks, watching as your mouth part as he plunges his fingers into you. he keeps his mouth on your clit, as two of his fingers piston in and out of you. you can’t help but thrust your hips up in his direction, aching to feel him deeper.
“toji w-what are you—” you start to ask as he pulls his fingers out of you, just before you cum.
he grins in response, popping one of his fingers in his mouth before saying, “you’re just too sweet y’know? come on taste yourself.” and before you can even respond properly, you were already sucking on his finger, smiling as he coos, “see how tasty you are?”
he rids himself of his jogging bottoms, his dick springing out of them, hard and throbbing. “my balls have been aching to bust inside of you all day,” he complains, as he mounts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back, your arms snaking behind his neck. “but you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“yeah please toji,” you whine, desperate for him to get his dick inside of your dripping pussy, “cum in me please, i just need you.”
“want me to cum in you yeah?” he smirks, as you shake your head, your hand moving down to his dick but he slaps it away, continuing to tease you, “gonna let me put a baby in you, right?”
“anything you want, just please.” you say, clawing at his back. but that’s all he needs to hear, as he shoves his dick into you with all his force, your eyes widening at the feeling. but as he quickly sets into a rhythm, you can’t help but moan out as his dick drives into you hitting the right spot, every single time.
he puts his mouth on yours to silence you, pecking your lips with kisses as he says, “you know you gotta be quiet for me princess, can’t have your dad hearing how im fucking my kids into you.”
“s-sorry i just c-can’t take it,” you apologise, your eyes rolling back as his lips move down from yours onto your neck. bruising and biting at it, with his teeth.
“oh but you can take it” he praises, “your pussy takes me so well, always such a good girl for me.” he bites back down on your neck harder, as you clench around him, the throbbing of his dick partnered with the gushing tightness of your pussy had him getting sloppier and sloppier with every stroke.
toji’s hand slaps down on your clit, making you slightly jump up against his dick as it continues to charge into you. he tugs at your clit before swirling it and pressing down on it with his thumb. loving the way you gasp at the contact, scratching at him as your pleasure grows.
“f-fuck toji, please, i need to feel your cum,” you beg, and he presses his forehead against yours, as your hold around his back and neck become stronger. his dick ploughing into you with his unforgiving pace was becoming too much for you to handle, you wanted to feel his load deep inside of you. “lemme have it.”
“i-i’ll give it to you princess dont worry,” he reassures, stammering slightly as he could feel himself going to bust. this was his favourite sight of you, all fucked out under him, your eyes practically springing with tears as you beg him to finish inside you. it was only an added bonus that you were doing this on your fluffy pink sheets, literally right under your dad’s nose. “you’re such a naughty girl for this. what would your dad say if he could see you now?” he continues to tease.
“i don’t care what he’d say. i am a n-naughty girl. i wanna be your naughty girl.”
“yeah you are, you’re absolutely filthy,” he jeers, giving you his last thrusts before saying, “fucking taking in the cum of your dads best friend, begging to bred. not very ladylike if i do say so myself.”
“t-toji please,” you call out, fed up with his teasing. and he laughs before taking your mouth into his biting on your lip hard as he releases into you, plastering your pussy walls with all his cum. you do the same, your cum mixing with his as you release onto his dick. he slumps his body over yours, pressing kisses to your faces, satisfied as he thrusts his dick into you further to try and ensure his cum doesn’t slip out.
“ah, if only i could stay here for the night, i’d keep you plugged up with my cum and really get you pregnant,” he jokes, finally pulling out of you, amazed by how cum of his and yours ran down your thighs and pooled onto your bedsheets.
“want you to stay,” you mewl, your arm stretching, reaching out for him.
“no can do princess,” he sighs, he actually wants to stay with you too, there’s nothing better then ending the night freshly fucked with his dick cushioned by your pussy all night as he sleeps. he presses a final kiss to your head, and grabs some wipes to get rid off the cum stuck to your legs, before leaving the room as he promises, “next time we’ll do it at my place, yeah?”
AN: So what do you think of dads best friend!toji 🧍🏽♀️ this was meant to be apart of a broader part of the sneaky link smut but then a little drabble turned into a full fic. BUT THIS ACTUALLY MADE ME NERVOUS TO POST SINCE IM STILL NOT FEELING MY SMUT SKILLS YET. But it shall come with practice.so yeah lemme know ur thoughts
#stampedwithane★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji angst#jjk angst#jjk fic#jujustsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro#toji x you
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soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
#cod mw#simon riley#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader
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141 and their captain’s assistant
- it all started with a comment made by Laswell, she mentioned to John how tired he seems, how his eye bags are growing heavier each day passing
- she recommended him to get an assistant, John declined the offer and tried to get back to work, but laswell already made the call, she knew how annoying John can be when it comes to getting help
- then enters a pretty little thing, your hair in a messy bun, glasses neatly resting on your pretty face, short pencil skirt hugging your curves perfectly
- John couldn’t help himself from staring, gawking at you like some horny teenager
- the boys began seeing you scurrying around the base more often, the first to approach you was Johnny of course
- his deep voice partnered with his thick Scottish accent made you subconsciously bite your lip, staring up at him with your big doe eyes, you don’t even mean to, it’s just that more than half of the people in here were 6feet+
- Johnny’s flirtatious nature made you giggle, lightened up your day, but not your boss’
- every time the Scott decided to drop by your desk to accompany you, he’d get scolded by his captain
- “don’t need you distracting her from her job”
- “it’s her break, cap, plus, she’ a good lass, I’m sure she’s on top of…all her work” the scott would throw you a wink before his captain orders him to run laps around the base
- next came gaz, since he’s always visiting his captain’s office for reports, he saw you at the new desk in the captain’s office, the aura around you not matching anything in the dim, old and boring office, you gave him a slight smile before returning to your paperwork
- but gaz wasn’t going to let that be the end of your interactions no no
- he’d walk up to you in the mess hall, as you’re loading your plate up, striking a conversation with you, making last long enough for him to lead you to a table with his other teammates
- you shyly but politely sit down and introduce yourself to the masked man who sat opposite of you, his brown eyes staring into yours as his arms stayed locked, he just nodded and replied “ghost”
- you figured he’s not a social one, the Scot and the Brit both kept asking you questions, some may have been a bit intrusive but maybe they’re just being friendly !
- “so why ar’ ye here?”
“Kate laswell requested that I work for John price for a few months to ease the paperwork load on him”
- “I’m sure there’s a different kind of load he’s trying to get you to ease off of him”
- the three of your heads snap to the silent man, his brown eyes seemed to be crinkled, suggesting he was grinning or smirking underneath that mask
- “OI! LT’s got jokes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it” Johnny tried to reassure you, glaring at Simon as you looked down at your food
- you excused yourself as you made your way back to price’s office, you saw him still there, no signs of him moving at all “captain ? Did you eat today?” You asked sweetly
- oh what this man wouldn’t give to have the honours of eating you for every meal of the day, to have you sprawled on his desk, papers sticking to your sweaty skin, your chest rising and falling as you try to quiet yourself so nobody hears what your captain is doing to you
- “captain” fuck he’d love to hear you moan his rank, begging him to be gentle, but he knows deep down you’re a dirty girl and you want your “captain ?!”
- John snapped out of his daydream, he looked up at you, you were leaning to the side trying to check on him “have you eaten today?” You asked again, a worried look in your eyes
- John nods, not looking you in the eyes “yeah yeah” he cleared his throat as he tried to get back to work, but your soft, smaller hand stopped him from grabbing his pen, his brown eyes looked up, ab eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’
- “I’m sorry, captain but I can’t allow you to get back to work if you haven’t had food” you stated, your body trembling as you stood your ground
- truthfully, price can easily launch you across the room with one arm, he knows his limits, and you’re nowhere near it, but you were right, he does need to eat, and although he wishes he could order you to spread your pretty thighs for him and let him have his fun, he doesn’t want to lose such a pretty sight so fast
- he let go of the pen, leaning back on his office chair “I haven’t brought any food”
“The mess hall still have some food there”
- “I don’t eat that rubbish”
“Well too bad, you need to eat”
- ooh… I guess his little kitty got claws now
#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#captain price#ghost#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kate laswell#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader
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Your best friend James with no boundaries is such perfect James I can’t even 😩 I feel like after a while James rubs off on you and you don’t even think about it anymore. Like all of a sudden you’re bursting in on him in the shower to ask him a simple question, you’re taking your bra off immediately when you get to his room to get comfy, you’re touching him and being affectionate in ways that is definitely more than friends. And every time James is just doe eyed in love 😍 like you’re my bestie, darling 🥺 Meanwhile Sirius and Remus are watching like 😳 did that just happen? That’s not normal best friend behaviour
"Where's James?" You waste no time in pushing the door to the boys' dorms open, interrogating Sirius and Remus who've occupied themselves with what looks like a mountain of classwork.
"He's in the shower, you can- wait for him on his bed-!" Sirius watches as you beeline for the bathroom, standing to stop you when he realizes you're about to walk in on James.
"Y/N, don't-!" He tries, but you've nudged the door open, and you don't stop there. You make for the shower curtain and Sirius stands frozen in his spot, wondering if he's going to be fired as the group's official guard dog.
"Jamie?" You call, sticking your head between the shower curtain and the wall. James turns where he'd been unknowingly showcasing his broad, muscled back, soapy and lathered with suds.
"Oh-! Y/N, hi," He grins, working a sponge over his side, "What's up?"
'What's-' Sirius turns to Remus, mouthing an echo of your words in confusion. Remus has nothing to offer; in fact, he looks weary as he sits back in his seat and listens.
"Do you think I can borrow your scarf today? The girls 'n I were going to Hogsmeade but it's really cold, and I think I lost my scarf in the forest."
"Yeah, 's in my trunk, bird," James nods, conversation flowing easily despite James's lack of attire as he bends lower to scrub at his thighs, "Y'know where my trunk is, yeah?"
"Under your bed?" You confirm, and he nods again.
"Get the boys to help you drag it out, m'love,"
"Right. Thanks Jamie," You grin, leaning in to kiss the soaked skin of his cheek. He grins brightly, letting his own lips press to your much drier face.
You leave the bathroom once more to be met with Sirius and Remus's mildly disgruntled expressions, and they stare at you like they hadn't heard James's request for grunt muscle.
"Can you... help me with his trunk? He said I could borrow his scarf." You repeat, pointing timidly in the direction of his bed.
"Why don't you just take his boxers, too?" Sirius's nose wrinkles as he grimaces, "I bet they're jealous you see his dick more than they do."
#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#james potter one shot#james potter one-shot#james potter headcanon#james potter headcanons#james potter hc#james potter hcs#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter dialogue#james potter fluff#james potter x reader fanfiction
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last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.
Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.
he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.
he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.
“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.
“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.
he raises his shoulders.
“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.
“Leiri,” he shrugs.
“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.
he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”
He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.
Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.
when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.
you turn around, “Choso?”
his heart skips a beat. he nods.
“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?
“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”
And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.
“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.
You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.
When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.
“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,
“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.
You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.
you both get quiet for a moment.
“how big is your bed?”
“Queen size,”
“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”
youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.
And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.
“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.
you smile and nod, “okay,”
Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.
He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.
he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.
When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.
“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.
you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.
“is it because of what yuji told me?”
his brain goes quiet. “what?”
“that you…that you like me?”
fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-
you stand and walk to him.
and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.
And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.
You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.
When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.
“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.
“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”
“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.
your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.
“oh…uh okay,”
fuck. yes.
he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.
he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,
“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.
you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.
“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”
And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.
He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.
He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.
You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.
he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.
you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.
After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.
“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.
He pulls away.
His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.
He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.
“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.
You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.
but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.
He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.
“oh my god did you…”
he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.
“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.
“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.
you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.
hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY
now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.
taglist:
@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover
#choso x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#choso#choso fluff#choso kamo#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso smut#kamo choso#kamo choso x reader
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sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333
11:34pm — gojo satoru
contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!
“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.
shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.”
a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity.
utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”.
“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru?
“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum.
the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door.
geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog.
“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.
“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.
“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.
“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga.
from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol.
the male in question pouts.
“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.
“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya.
“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you.
“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.
“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.
you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.
“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.
“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face.
“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.
you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.
“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.
“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“eh? why would i?”
“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda.
“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.
“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely.
his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now.
“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers.
“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.
“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.
“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.
“alright, alright,” you concede.
“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.
“where do i even start?”
the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.
he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks.
you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.
you suppose he isn't so bad.
notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf
also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x you#jjk x reader#remember spring days!au
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VITAMIN ME — JUJUTSU KAISEN BOYS + SICK FIC
featuring. gojo, toji, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu, itadori, choso, fushiguro
content. taking care of the boys/the boys taking care of you when feeling sick, all fluff, no warnings
word count. 2.5k
SATORU GOJO
He doesn’t feel under the weather often, but when he does, it hits him tenfold. He’s whiny, dramatic, borderline inconsolable, and feels well within his rights to demand your undivided attention, because he’s not usually like this… sick, that is (he is usually whiny and dramatic, no illness in the world could take that away from him).
You and him both know when he’s dragging it, but you can’t help but to feel bad for him. Because when Satoru is sick, he’s sick—you feel like you need to constantly monitor all his vitals, set a timer to make sure he gets medication because he’s so cold and pale and sluggish, it’s worrisome. Of course, he finds the strength to tease you, “You worried about little old me, sweets? Don’t be—‘m gonna be fine, you know. But I hear kisses cure the flu.”
“Not scientifically proven, or peer reviewed,” you tell him, “But you know what is? Tylenol. Time for more, open up, Satoru.”
“Will I get a kiss? Just a little one?”
He gives you a hard time, even in sickness, but it’s only because he absolutely relishes being in your care, thinks you’re good at taking care of him; proven by the way you give in with a nod, and then a kiss after he takes his medication. He really does feel like shit right now, but with you here, caring for him, his heart has expanded ten times and a warmth spills into his chest that makes the pain insignificant. Satoru feels honored and humbled to have someone fuss over him like this—to have this concrete reminder that you worry for him and care about him and love him just like he loves you.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
“You gonna feed me?” Toji grumbles, sounding much less threatening with a frog in his throat, “Because there’s no way I’m drinking that.”
You roll your eyes, lightly tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug before placing it onto the coffee table and extending your arms towards Toji, “The ginger is good for you. The lemon, too, if you wanna stop sounding like a low-budget villain anytime soon.”
Toji’s nose scrunches—it’s almost cute, if it weren’t followed by an infuriatingly stubborn turn of his jaw, pointedly away from you and back to the television. You huff, sitting down next to him—or as close as you can get through his mountain of blankets and forcefield of pillows—carefully nursing the cup in your palms.
Who would have thought that the great Toji Fushiguro would be so stubborn as to let a little cold get the best of him. Him attempting to suffer without cold medicine wasn’t that surprising, but you didn’t think that he’d petulantly refuse tea just because of some ginger. Getting him to take his antibiotics only worked when you told him you’d boot him onto the couch if he didn’t, but that won’t work this time, he’ll call your bluff.
You sigh, moving a pillow to your other side and reaching over to the coffee table to redeem your spoon. You fold one leg under the other and turn your body to Toji’s, scooping tea into the spoon, giving it a soft blow, and then raising it to his face. He quirks an eyebrow when he feels the steam brushing against his skin, and turns to you with a hellish grin.
He opens his mouth, to say something slick no doubt, but you take advantage of the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth, “You don’t get to talk until after you finish your tea.”
TOGE INUMAKI
Despite being a renowned insomniac and someone who is willing to throw away hours of sleep to binge watch his favorite series or complete a new game, Toge does believe that rest is the best medicine. He does take his own sleep seriously—it’s not his fault that most people consider his preferred sleeping hours to be regular waking hours.
So, even though it sounds a bit hypocritical, Toge is very firm about you resting as much as you can when you’re not feeling well. He’s quick to make a cocoon out of you in your two favorite blankets and fit you onto the couch to keep you within sight as he rummages around the kitchen to prepare your meals, and make sure that you don’t skimp out on your medication. He’s got some pretty effective homemade remedies for a killer sore throat, but cough syrup is cough syrup—he knows it tastes horrible, but if he has to force feed it to you, then so be it.
He feeds you spoonfuls of homemade broth and rice to make up for it, giggling as you scrunch your nose from the taste of the medicine. When you’re finished, he lets you tell him off and forgoes teasing you about how nasally you sound as he coerces you to lay down again. You don’t feel sleepy, but when Toge’s lips brush against your forehead, his words are like a spell that makes your eyes flutter shut, “Sleep, my love.”
KENTO NANAMI
“It’s cold, Ken,” you whine, sniffling at the end of your sentence. Kento sighs softly, switching off the light to the bathroom and taking careful strides to the bed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed, expression sympathetic as you complain about the temperature again.
The room is actually slightly warmer than normal per your earlier request, but he knows you still feel cold because of how high your temperature is. It's exactly why he took your blanket from you—fuzzy, and warm, and weighted would all be enticing and acceptable if you weren’t running a very concerning fever. Kento absolutely hates to say no to you, but he has to do something to break your fever.
“I know, darling,” he nods gently, settling himself onto his side of the bed. He’d prefer to have the comfort of a heavy blanket right now, too, but he wouldn’t taunt you like that—if you have to sleep without one, then so will he. He should get you another cold towel for your forehead, but you tug on his heartstrings when you scoot yourself closer to him, nose nudging against his thigh. He smiles softly, carefully reaching to tap at your arms, “Come here.”
You shuffle upwards and into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest with your arms coming to wrap around his torso. Kento lets you melt into him and wraps strong arms around your body to keep you close—body heat will have to do for now.
YUUTA OKKOTSU
Yuuta walks—waddles, really—with his blanket over his shoulders, mouth slightly ajar, and a box of tissue in his hand for good measure. He looks cute despite his febrile state, with his nose red and eyes wide and you have to resist the urge to coo at him.
“I thought the Benadryl would have kept you asleep at least a little longer,” you smile, turning off the heat underneath the pot.
“Something smelled good... and I got hungry,” Yuuta shrugs weakly, taking the remaining steps into the kitchen and plopping his body weight onto a stool at the island. He sniffles deeply, setting his box of tissues down on the counter, before pointing at the lowly simmering pot behind you, “Is that… for me?”
“No, it’s for my other sick boyfriend,” you grin, reaching into a nearby cabinet for a bowl. You giggle when you see Yuuta’s pouty expression, cheeks a light pink and bottom lip jutted slightly.
“It’s not nice to make fun of the ill,” he coughs. His façade is waning, already weakened by his sick state, and crumbling when you push a warm bowl of his favorite soup in front of him. You can’t help but to laugh a little louder because Yuuta’s eyes practically grow three sizes and you swear he’s salivating a little.
He shakes away the shock, turning with a pout when he realizes you’re poking fun at him again, “You’re doing it again. Now you owe me a kiss.”
“Do I?” you tease, taking the seat on the stool next to him, elbows resting on the counter, as you peer up at Yuuta’s flushed face. You’ll let him ride the excuse his blush being the fever for a little longer, “That’s risky. I might get sick, and I have a very cute boyfriend to take care of.”
“I’ll take care of you, too,” Yuuta all but whispers, tired eyes fluttering to your lips, “In sickness and in health, right?”
He leans down a bit and you meet him for a quick kiss, pulling away to smile, “I thought that was for married couples.”
“I’ll fix that soon,” Yuuta smiles, satisfied. You giggle, reaching out to poke his red nose and then his cheek to turn his face back to his soup.
“Well, then go ahead and eat and get well soon,” you muse, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I expect a very romantic proposal from an un-sick lover boy.”
YUUJI ITADORI
You should have known that Nobara was going to rat you out sooner or later, if not for your own wellbeing, then for hers—because despite your roommate being a caring soul beneath her tough exterior, she is not caring enough to risk her own health because you’re sniffling all over your shared apartment; especially not before she’s supposed to go on her first vacation with her boyfriend.
On the third day of coughing, Nobara tells you she’s going to camp out with Megumi until her flight, and that Yuuji is the person she’s entrusted with her keys until she returns back from her trip. So, it’s not a surprise that a mere hour later, you find Yuuji all but barreling through your front door with grocery bags in hand, all of which he promptly drops when he hears you hacking out your lungs on the couch, quick to dart to your side and hold your cup as you shakily drink some water.
“Babe! You’re, like, super sick,” he exclaims, now sitting criss-cross on your living room floor, slowly unpacking the grocery bags for a real-time haul, “You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten you all this stuff way sooner!”
“I’m fine, Yuuji. It’s a mild cold at most,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as he rips open a new box of Kleenex and thrusts it in your direction. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, untrusting of your words, before he springs up with the last grocery bag in hand.
“Well, still... I’m not a doctor, but I got all the medications Nanamin told me to get, so we’re gonna get this cold out of you in no time,” he grins, patting your head before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “In the meantime, how about some soup? Oh—I just saw a recipe for something spicy, that should help with your nose right? Or maybe ramen? Leave it to me!”
CHOSO KAMO
You couldn’t help but to snap one more picture of Choso. You felt bad, a little bit, he was tired and sick and probably felt like crap, but he looked very cute when he was sleepy, cuddled up in fuzzy blankets from head to toe, with just enough space to expose his tired eyes and red nose. One more wouldn’t hurt.
You smile to yourself as you look back at him, slipping your phone into your pocket and walking over to join Choso on the couch. There’s not enough room for you to sit in the seat, so you have to cotch yourself in the arm of the couch closest to his head and gently reach out to move a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. It would make for another cute picture, but you refrain, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead instead, before standing to start picking up the spare tissue and cough drop wrappers littered around him.
You always tell him he’s going to worry himself sick, and he’s managed to do just that. It was a little fun, a little cute, but mostly, you’re just happy that Choso is resting. You know that sleep doesn’t come easily to him under normal circumstances; if being a little under the weather is what gets your boyfriend to slow down and care for his body, then so be it; you’ll be there to help him out.
You’re about to head into the kitchen, when you’re stopped by a warm hand brushing against your leg. You turn to see Choso limply reaching out of your, slowly blinking awake, before weakly beckoning for you again, “Stay here,” he croaks, “Please?”
You smile, placing the gathered trash onto the coffee table, before burying yourself within Choso’s blankets. You have to do a little wiggling to get underneath him, but Choso doesn’t mind, happily resting his weight against you, eyes already fluttering closed again, not before he lets you a meek, “Thank you. I love you.”
You give him one final kiss to the crown of his head, “I love you, too.”
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
“Megumi, are you… okay?” you question softly, leaning over the small restaurant table to squint at your boyfriend. You’d been watching him carefully since he’d picked you up from your house, deducing that something was definitely wrong, even if Megumi had been trying his best to hide it.
He could be quiet, but he was definitely not soft spoken, nor did he normally wince after swallowing a bite of his food. You should have known something was off from the start, when you’d held hands on your walk and Megumi’s fingers were warm, and not icicles attached to his palm.
Megumi freezes, mouth gaping slightly, before he closes it and composes himself with slumped shoulders—he’d considered keeping up his brave front, but it’d be futile at this point, so he sighs, “My throat hurts, is all,” he confesses, the hoarseness of his tired voice peeking through, “I had a fever yesterday, but it was fine this morning.”
You lean over a little more, just enough to be able to extend your hand so that the back of your palm meets Megumi’s forehead. It’s warm, to no surprise, and you find yourself tutting, recoiling your hand slightly, with enough space to flick him.
“Ow?” He groans, and you only roll your eyes. You pull back to fish through your bag, to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Megumi begins to question you, but you’re not hearing it, getting up to sling your purse over your shoulder and grab your boyfriend by the forearm.
“You’re an idiot,” you scold, ushering him out of the restaurant, “We are going to urgent care to get you a strep test, and then to that bakery Nanami tells us not to tell anyone about to get you soup, and then you are going to sit and eat it and contemplate your actions for the rest of the evening.”
Megumi lets himself be dragged away—another tell-tale sign that he really is feeling under the weather (which is also what he chooses to blame his blush on). If “contemplating his actions,” was code word for you hovering over him for a bit, then maybe he wouldn’t mind.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#nanami x reader#inumaki x reader#yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#choso x reader#gojo smut#megumi x reader#yuuji x reader#yuji x reader#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut#kento x reader#jjk scenarios#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles
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"IF YOU WANT, I CAN COME INSIDE?" - SATORU GOJO
✴︎ summary: nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind.
✴︎ contents: just fluff, gojo being a dumbass, lots of playful knocking gojo down a peg, nobara being an absolute menace, innuendo, implication of sex
✴︎ wc: 713
NK: get over here now. [sends GPS location]
MF: Why?
NK: don’t question it. Just get over here.
YI: on our way.
“What is this—“ and Nobara pulls them back, shushing them, as they hide behind the side of one of the residential suites of Jujutsu Tech, designated for staff or visiting sorcerers, “Kugisaki—“
“Look at who that idiot is talking with—“
“Wow, she’s hot — who’s that?” Yuji blinks, tilting his head, “is she Gojo-sensei’s—“
“Can’t be she’s out of his league—“ Nobara scoffs, still peeking out, “do either of you know—“
Megumi answers, saying your name, “she’s a sorcerer - she’s been away on an overseas mission for a bit,” he shrugs at their curiosity, “I’ve worked with her before — I think that’s where she stays usually when she’s at Jujutsu Tech,”
“She must be pretty strong then, I think the only other person who I know who went overseas for a mission was Gojo-sensei,” Yuji scratches his head, squinting his eyes and straining to hear, “what are they talking about?”
“C’mon, one kiss?” Satoru pouts, his arms crossed to stop himself from reaching out, “it’s been so long and I can’t even touch you,”
“Your students are watching us — you’re the one who didn’t bother to tell them you’re married,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “is this how you want to introduce me?”
And he’s leaning even closer, smirking, warm breath against your ear, “if you want, I can come inside,” and you flush at his inneundo, gaping at him, before you shove him playfully, but he catches you by the wrist, pulling you closer.
“Toru—“ and he presses his lips to yours, smiling, as you melt into his touch.
“Let them watch, I need to welcome my wife back,” and he’s kissing you more insistently, arms sliding behind you to press you to him, your palm resting against his chest.
“EHHHHH?” Yuji and Nobara watch, jaws on the ground, as Megumi plugs his ears, shaking his head.
“Can you two be any louder?” He grumbles, as you and Gojo turn to look at them.
“Megumi!” You grin, walking over, “it’s good to see you — how are the boys?”
He cracks a small smile, “The demon dogs are fine — they liked the treats you got them, thank you,” the two of you talk as Gojo makes his way over as well, hands behind his head as Nobara and Yuji stare at him.
“How do you know her so well?” Yuji points at Megumi.
“Well, her and Gojo kinda helped look after me,” he looks away crossing his arms, as you hide your smile — poorly, as given by Megumi’s slight glare.
“Hey what’s the deal?” Nobara glares, still focused on Gojo, “how’d you bag her? Did you lie? Did you suddenly grow a personality? Did you bribe her?”
Gojo scoffs, laughing, head thrown back, “I just won her over with my infinite charm, of course!”
“Wore me down is more like it, Toru,” you elbow him lightly, “wore me down to the point that I’d marry him,” you roll your eyes, as the pair of students stare at you.
“YOU’RE MARRIED?” they shout at Gojo, pointing, who only rubs the back of his head, smiling.
“Did I…forget to mention that?” He tugs his chain out from under his uniform, a platinum ring attached to it, “I don’t wear my ring because I don’t want it getting messed up from my cursed energy,”
The three of them start bickering as you and Megumi stand, watching, “so this is what it’s like when you’re with them, huh?”
Megumi sighs, “Pretty much,” and you give a soft smile.
“No wonder you’ve seemed happier lately,” you give a small laugh at his bewildered expression before Satoru is wrapping his arms around you.
“Sweetheart, my students are being so mean to me,” and you scoff, rubbing his head.
“I’m 100% sure you deserve it,” and he’s pouting again, but leans into his touch, “come on, let’s have dinner together,” you grab his arm, “It was nice to meet you guys. Let me know if Satoru ever gives you any trouble.”
“Huh? I’m not trouble,” he grumbles, as you kiss his cheek, before he’s leaning close again, lips brushing against your ear, “can I make good on my offer now?”
“…after dinner.”
✴︎ a/n: just a short little thing i wrote before i post on friday :). could not resist writing this quick little thing last night before bed :).
#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#sab [mlist]
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.
tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.
“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.
one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.
your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.
“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”
you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.
you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.
“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”
satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.
“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.
satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.
you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.
satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”
you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.
the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”
the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.
you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.
“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”
your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.
“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”
you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.
you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.
“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”
you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”
you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.
“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.
you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.
satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”
oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#divider by benkeibear
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