A Typical Family (masterlist)

a typical family (masterlist)

satoru shows up unexpectedly after six months of silence, two little kids trailing behind him. chaos ensues.

any additional posts tagged under #a typical family

second year.

small talk

admissions

third year.

premature death

year zero. [START HERE]

one in the morning

year one.

three things

eavesdropping

did you miss me?

reassurance

year two.

sick

a bit loud

bad day

he stole my valentine

stay

close up magic (coming soon)

year three.

moving in

new pups

midnight happenings

emotions

fighting

year four.

the brunch

slip-up

cuddle time

hey

keeping secrets

kitchen scene

year five.

a walk

stress baking

it's not my fault

midnight happenings (2)

worth

jealousy

remembering

year six.

are you stupid?

beyond…

apple cider

“and i don’t even like you that much. wait, i do, fuck. call me at midnight. let’s give this thing a try!” apple cider - beabadoobee

🍎 — summary: you and megumi have known each other since jr. high. eventually, things get out of hand and you end up falling out. you meet again in tokyo jujutsu high only to remember old issues and realize new feelings.

🪼 — pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn! reader

🌷 — genre: friends to enemies to lovers, smau

🐰 — status: coming to an end

🐸 — warnings: sfw, crack humor, sexual jokes, dying jokes, jealousy, slight angst

🌈 — notes: this smau idea has been in the notes app for over two yrs. i hope y’all enjoy! updates are slow!

taglist is closed!

y/n’s pookies + megumi’s friends

one: middle school beef

two: my favorite pastry

three: enemies to lovers?

four: PANDA WHY

five: scare the hoes (respectfully)

six: idgaf

seven: we should jump him

eight: okayyy loverboy!

nine: count your days

ten: we should talk

eleven: apple bakery

twelve: old times

thirteen: gone but not forgotten

fourteen: this is sick

fifteen: he smells

sixteen: you were right

seventeen: hey u up?

eighteen: what are we?

nineteen: thru the grapevine

twenty: is this a date?

twenty one: please don’t go

twenty two: call me at midnight

twenty three: a little kiss

twenty four: blobfish

twenty five: yuji hate

twenty six: megumi rizz

twenty seven: shit my pants

epilogue

bonus

2K notes View Post

gumiiiiezzzz

1 year ago

meraki.

requested! okay, hear me out…a yandere gojo and geto setting their eyes on their pretty student?

tw. yandere, noncon, dubcon, (somewhat) pwp, teacher(s)/student relationship, age gap (reader is a first year, geto/gojo are senseis; so basically pedophilia), unbalanced power dynamics, forced oral (male receiving), choking, gagging, grinding, mention of masturbation, use of pretty/angel/baby, use of slut, praise kink, inexperience reader, underage reader

pairing: satosugu x f!reader

they scared you more than you liked to admit. but the truth of it was inevitable.

they scared you—terrified you even. their eyes always on you, always watching; the smiles on their faces never quite reaching their eyes. not in a way that was sincere anyways. cold and calculated, focused solely on you.

it made your chest tight and your stomach twist with nerves and give you enough sense to avoid them. both of them. which was increasingly hard given that one was your teacher and the other a teacher of your relatively small school. sure, the campus was somewhat big but the fact that remained the same; there was only three teachers and two of them made you feel anything but safe.

avoiding them wasn't easy. but you tried your best.

though, even that seemed futile in the end.

nobara is chatting your ear off about something you can barely pay attention to, fingers working quick to gather your things so you can get out of the classroom as quick as possible.

it's like this every time the day ends. your morning starts with training, then lunch and the afternoon is just class; sat at your desk, nobara beside you and megumi and yuji in front. of course, gojo stands at the front of the class, droning on about something before he inevitably loses track and rambles on about something else.

it's like this everyday. nothing is particulally different about today. you avoid gojo's eyes the entire class, head bowed, eyes zone in on your notebook where you diligently take notes, passing off as a worried student focused on her studies. you can feel his gaze, but you do your best to ignore it.

you'll rush out of class and geto will be making his way through the hall just as you turn the corner. he'll smile at you and greet you with a sickeningly-sweet call of your name and you'll nod, rushed, mumbling out a greeting before picking up the pace of your step to get to your room as quick as possible.

you'll deny nobara's offer to hang in the courtyard, and you'll eat dinner an hour later than everyone else like you always do. just so you can avoid running into them.

it'll be the same it always is. of course it will be.

but you can't help the knot that twists in your stomach and the nerves that have had you on edge all day. they're worse than they normally are, making it hard to focus and for your heart to calm. you feel like you've been tense all day, heart pounding and chest tight with no relief in sight.

all day.

nothing different had happened. not a single change in routine that has existed for the better part of half of the school year. everything had been exactly the same and you have no reason to doubt that that fact won't remain the same for the rest of the day either.

but you're anxious. nervous. that anxiety wells and seems to skyrocket the second gojo dismisses you all, shaky fingers working as quick as they can to gather your things and get out of there.

you're right behind nobara, the boys having just left, bag clutched to your chest as you mumble a half-hearted goodbye to her. and you're just at the door, right about to walk out, before his voice stops you.

"y/l/n?"

your whole body freezes, tensing, as his voice calls out for you mockingly sweet. you raise your head, staring at the wall ahead of you, before gathering the little bit of courage you can find to glance at him over your shoulder.

his black sunglasses hang low on his face, bright blue eyes peering over the edge directly at you as he grins, all toothy and bright but it seems anything but genuine to you in that moment.

"y-yes, gojo-sensei?" your voice is low, shaky and the realization that you were in fact alone with him makes your shoulders feel heavy with the weight of your reality.

"i need to talk to you," he explains, feigning nonchalance as he turns to his desk, fumbling with things. "can you stay behind a minute?"

you glance back in the direction of the door, distantly hearing nobara curse at yuji for something, and your heart leaps at the desperation for some sort of excuse. but one look back at gojo and fear has you seizing, only able to manage a small nod before forcing yourself to turn and head back to your desk.

he thanks you, telling you he'll be a minute as you sit down, fingers digging into the edge of your desk.

it'll be okay, you tell yourself, eyes squeezing shut as you try to calm your racing heart. it'll be okay. he just needs to talk to you! and once he's done, you can go to your dorm and—

"ah, suguru! perfect timing!"

all your soothing words go out the window the second you hear satoru's voice, eyes snapping open to glance over at the door only to see geto, the second years teacher, standing at the entrance. he's smiling lazily, eyes drifting from gojo to you, where his smile seems to widen at the sight of you and then your heart falls to the pit of your stomach when you see him turn, moving to shut the door.

you're jumping to your feet before you can even realize it, heart lurching as you stumble back, trying to create as much distance between you and them as you can.

gojo turns to you, raising a brow in surprise, just as you watch geto's swift fingers lock the door and turn around to stare at you.

"y/l/n, is everything—"

"i... i have to go," you force out, desperation bleeding in. "nobara—i forgot. we made plans to—"

"sorry, y/n," gojo cuts in, and you blink at his use of your first name, eyes falling on him. "i... me and suguru really need to talk to you. nobara will just have to wait, kay?"

you feel like you're going to pass out. this... this is not good.

you're stumbling back, not liking the way gojo is moving around the desk to make his way towards you. but in your panic to get away from him, you hadn't noticed geto leaving the door and moving so he's behind you. you don't, at least, until you feel yourself stumble back into a warm chest, movements stilling as you glance behind yourself, only to find him staring down at you.

geto grabs you by the arms before you can try and run, grip tight, a warning you realize, nails pinching into you as he starts to steer you forward. your heart is pounding so loud you can hear it, shaking your head as you try to fight his grip but it's useless.

geto is far stronger than you. that much is clear.

he doesn't stop until you're both right in front of gojo, who, still grinning, leans down so his face is level with yours.

"you okay, y/n?" gojo asks, head tilted in concern. "you look a little peaked."

"she's shaking too," geto hums, and you hate the way you can feel his chest rumble against your back.

"aw," gojo coos and you wince. "why are you so scared? we just wanna talk to you."

"pl—... please," you whisper, gripping the edge of your skirt tightly in your fingers, knuckles white, trying to stop the tremble of your body or the way you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you. "please."

"poor baby doesn't even know what she's begging for," gojo laughs, glancing up at geto who smirks down at you.

you let out whimper, flinching back, unfortunately into geto, as gojo moves to straighten out.

then, geto's hands shift. they leave your arms, and you blink, confused, until you feel them fall against your waist, the movement causing you to jump. you're frozen still as his fingers move to unbutton the jacket of your uniform, slowly, tauntingly.

"you see," gojo speaks up then, pulling your eyes on him. "it hasn't escaped our notice how you seem to avoid us."

dread filling you, you're dead weight as geto maneuvers you to pull off your jacket, slipping it off your shoulders and down your arms before tossing it somewhere behind him.

"and it hurts our feelings you know?" gojo frowns, feigning hurt as he pouts down at you. "seeing our precious student run from us like that... when, truly, we just wanna help you. you mean so much to us... you're our precious student afterall."

you gasp as geto's hands slip under your white blouse, hands pressing against the bare skin of your stomach as he envelopes you completely. his shoulders hunch around you, much larger than your frame, head hanging over your shoulder as his hands draw patterns across your skin. he's gentle, slow, causing goosebumps to flesh out, hands falling on his arms.

"so, we're gonna show you just how much we care about you today, okay?"

geto's hand is wrapping around your left breast, clad in your bra the second gojo's word finish and it feels like you snap out of your stupor then. he squeezes, harsh, and you cry out, your hands wrapped around his arms pushing them away, wiggling as you try to escape his grasp. you feel geto chuckle behind you as you do, shifting in his grasp, before his arms tighten and suddenly you're lifted up.

"no!" you cry out, voice screeching, legs kicking out wildly. "let me go! no!"

gojo grabs you by the ankles, grip bruising as he forces you to stop kicking. geto is walking forward, a arm wrapped around your middle, the other still squeezing your breast, before you feel yourself slammed on top of a desk.

your desk.

your legs are suddenly spread open by gojo, pushing them apart before he steps in between them, forcing them to stay that way as you cry out in refusal.

your hands beat against geto's arms but it's futile. he's way too strong. they both are.

"stop it!" you scream, hoping that if you can't fight them off on your own, maybe someone will hear you. megumi or yuji, or even nobara... if not them, maybe the principle... "let me go! get off of me! no! stop—!"

your cries are muffled by a hand pressing against your lips. it's geto, having let go of your breast as to wrap around your mouth. he presses hard, leaving muffled cries to escape your lips as you try and shake your head.

"she's sure got a mouth on her, huh?" geto laughs, and you let out a growl in response, bucking your hips up.

"can't wait until she's screaming our names," gojo agrees, and your eyes widen in disbelief as he grabs the edge of your skirt and lifts it, flipping it up to reveal your bright pink panties with little hearts all over them. your face burns as you feel both of their eyes zone in on your crotch.

"well," geto groans, "isn't that just adorable?"

gojo looks like a mad man, desperate as he leans forward, taking off his glasses, and lowering his face before pressing it directly against your clothed pussy. a muffled scream of indignation leaves your lips, muted behind geto's hand, as you both see and feel gojo breathe in deeply, nose pressing directly against your clit.

"mm! n-no!"

leaning back, gojo's eyes are dazed as he stares past you at geto. "she smells... heavenly."

geto lets out a moan, nails digging into your belly, as he leans forward, as if trying to get whatever whiff of you he can get himself.

"here," gojo calls a second later, stepping back and grabbing your legs by the ankles again. "let's get her on her knees."

you try to fight, but it's futile. even as you squirm and scream, geto keeps his hand firm around your lips and the both of them manhandle you easily to your knees, before finally, geto pulls his hand away, still behind you; the both of them now fully towering over you.

mouth free, your lips part instantly to scream but you're cut off by a sharp slap against your cheek.

it stings, and your hands fall to your red cheek in disbelief, staring up at your teacher. it's one thing for geto, still equally as horrible, but for some reason it hurts even more to have your own teacher, the man who taught you everyday, to treat you like this.

to do this to you.

"it'll be a lot worse if you don't stop screaming," geto calls out and you slowly glance up at him. "don't get us wrong. we'd love to hear you scream but we don't want to risk anyone hearing. you'll have to wait until we're in a more private place."

the meaning of his words is not lost on you — 'you'll have to wait' means there'll be a next time.

you... you don't want a next time.

"we don't need to remind you that we are the two strongest sorcerers," gojo then speaks, the barely concealed threat clear as you blink up at him. "and i know you both are aware of our abilities... you're still afraid of curses, aren't you?"

inhaling sharply, you curl into yourself.

gojo's hand falls on top of your head, mockingly compassionate; "we don't want suguru to bring out one of his curses just to get you to cooperate, do we?"

the tears finally fall then. having welled up in your eyes the second geto had touched you, but refusing to let them fall in a futile attempt at strength. though, you feel like nothing in that moment as the tears finally break free, a whimper leaving your lips as you shake your head.

"aw, it's okay," gojo mumbles, ruffling your hair. "there's no need to cry."

"we don't want to scare you if we don't have to," geto adds as you turn to him with blurred, watery eyes. "all you have to do is be our good little girl, okay?"

ignoring the violent shake of your body, you nod.

"words, angel. we need to hear you say it."

"y-yes," you force out, voice trembling, pitching in your distress. "i... i promise i'll be a g-good girl... sensei's."

they both beam, eyes twinkling at your submission, you continue to sit there, forced on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks and snot nosed as they shift. you're careful not to move, not to try and sit up, as geto moves so he's stood in front of you as well. they're intimidating, incredibly so, stood in front of you, your head crained back to glance up at you, face lined with their crotches.

"we appreciate your words, angel, but we need a little more from you for us to believe you."

your eyes widen at gojo's words.

"just to make sure," geto tries to assure. "have you ever sucked a guy off before?"

your face burns at his words, mortification burning through your entire body. eyes lowering, you grip your skirt once more, a way to comfort yourself, and shake your head. "n-no... i... i haven't."

you don't see the way that makes the both of them sparkle with delight.

"look at that, suguru. i told you i was right," gojo grins, practically dancing in the spot. "our pretty baby is too innocent for her own good."

geto laughs. "which means we get to teach her."

"exactly."

"please..." you whisper, "i... i'm scared. i don't... i don't want this."

"oh, angel, it's okay," gojo coos, crouching to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin in languid movements. "we'll take you every step of the way. there's no need to be scared."

he's pulling away a second later, and you watch as the both of them unbuckle their pants, pushing it down to their knees, before pulling their cocks out from their underwear. your eyes widen at the sight, having never seen a penis in real life before; only ever in the porn videos you watched sometimes at night to masturbate.

but even then, you know both of them are... large.

gojo's is longer and leaner, veiny and pink at the top. you see a bit of pre-cum at the tip, and it's hard, standing straight against his toned stomach. while geto's is slightly shorter, it's thicker, veiner then gojo's and standing up, just as hard as gojo's. your chest tightens with fear at the prospect of what they want you to do with them.

"you're gonna suck us off, okay?" gojo explains, thumbing at him and then geto. "we're gonna train you to take all of us in that warm, precious little mouth of yours."

"you might gag at first," geto shrugs, "but we'll train you out of that too."

the fear has you not thinking straight, forgetting their earlier threat as you try to shuffle back. you barely make it a second before geto is grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging you towards him, pressing your cheek directly against his cock as you sob.

"pl-please!"

"it's okay, baby, we'll take it slow."

geto pulls you back, hand still gripped in your hair and gojo leans forward, hand falling on your jaw and squeezing.

"open up, pretty," gojo orders.

you press your lips together, shaking your head best you can in their grip. "mm-mm—"

squeezing, gojo's fingers press against your cheeks, your face twisting in pain as geto yanks, hard, on your hair.

"open. now. we won't ask again."

eyes clenching shut, you open your mouth, only a little at first before geto is shifting, pressing his length directly against your lips. he forces himself forward, hips jutting forward, your mouth being split open without warning as he sheathes himself into your war, hot mouth.

your eyes bulge as he hits the back of your throat, gagging, your reflex causing you body to tense as you feel like you're going to throat up. your hands move to press against geto's thighs, trying to pull away, but he holds you there for a second.

"relax," he hisses, "relax. it'll make it easier."

you can't listen. your eyes water as you gag, slapping his thighs as you feel like you can't breathe, panic welling within you.

he pulls away a second later and you gasp, coughing as spit dribbles down your chin and the tears well down your cheek. you're convulsing on your knees, trying to pull away from his grip on your hair, choking and gasping for breath.

then, a second later, you're gagging on another cock, this time hitting further down the back of your throat and you realize gojo's grabbed your hair as well to fuck into your mouth.

being longer, your reflex is spasming and you're coughing around his cock, nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

he pulls away and then thrusts back in a second later. your eyes shut as you try to ease your throat and focus on breathing, body twitching in response.

"that's it," gojo groans, "relax your throat. like suguru said."

he thrusts a couple more times, before your head is turned to the left once more, and geto thrusts into your mouth. he rocks himself, both their hands tangled in your hair, the sounds of your spit and choking all you can hear over their moans.

"fuck!" geto hisses, "that's it! wrap your lips around me!"

"she looks so fucking hot like this," gojo calls, eyes focused on you.

your face is red, eyes watering, mascara dripping down your face from your tears and spit slipping down the length of your neck from your chin. you looked completely fucked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try to take both of them, hands still digging welts into their thighs.

you're shifted back to gojo, him using your mouth for a minute before giving you back to geto. and that repeats, both of them using you to their disgression, moaning in response, calling out your praises as you're used as their glory hole until their movements become rocky, sharp and jutted.

"fuck! i'm almost there!"

"you can cum in her mouth," geto oblidges but you barely hear him. "i wanna cum on her face!"

gojo mumbles out his thanks, geto's hands leaving you as gojo grabs you with his free hand, forcing your head back and forth around his cock. geto, position his cock right across your fingers, pumps himself, and you're back to pushing against gojo's things, throat burning.

"just—fuck!"

gojo's movements halt, keeping his cock pressed to the back of his throat as he lets out a muffled groan, and you feel something warm and bitter flood your mouth. your face twists as it does, trying to pull away so you can spit it out but gojo's grip remains tight, holding you there.

his pubic hair tickles your face, only able to breathe in the scent of him.

"don't forget—ah, about me, pretty!"

a second later, that same warmth is splattering across your face, geto angling so his cum spurts onto your eyes and cheek.

gojo finally lets go then, and you jump back, coughing and sputtering as you blink, trying to catch up to what happened. you're trying to spit out the cum, but then a hand is forcing your jaw shut and another is pinching your nose. you hadn't been able to catch your breath before and you panic, forced to swallow the cum that had been forced into your throat.

the hands pull back and you gag, pressing your palms to the floor to steady yourself, knees burning from pressing against the hard wood. the taste is bitter and overwhelms your entire sense, wiping at your face only to feel sticky, pulling back to see geto's cum on your fingers.

"fuck," geto whispers, "she looks so pretty."

"covered in our cum," gojo agrees, "our little cumdump slut."

you stare back at them, hurt and bewildered, trying to rub geto's cum off of your face.

"what..." your voice is practically gone, faint as your throat burns from their misuse, staring back at them. you want to say something but you don't know what to say.

"look at her, suguru, she looks hurt."

"poor little girl."

"she feels left out."

"we should reward her. she proved herself after all."

reward... you didn't like the sound of that.

you shake your head and try to pull away, but as it's been this entire time, you're not strong or quick enough; your movements even slower now after their abuse. geto grabs you with ease and gojo is brushing your hair out of your face as they lift you to your feet, hands lifting your skirt and grabbing your panties, pulling them down.

you don't have the fight left to stop them, a pitiful whine leaving your lips as you're shimmied out of your panties, a cold wind hitting your pussy.

your skirt is left on, and then you're being sat on geto's leg, your legs on either side of his thigh and your bare crotch pressing against the soft material of his pants.

you hadn't even realized he'd pulled his pants back up.

gojo's chest presses against your back, and as geto's hands grip your hips, keeping you steady, gojo's work to unbutton your blouse. he does so with ease, swift fingers working fast before he's pulling off your shirt, left in only your bra and skirt.

"isn't she so pretty, suguru?" gojo asks, presenting you to his eyes.

"beautiful," geto whispers, thumbs caressing circles into your sides.

flushed and dazed, your hands move to try and stop them and gojo easily pushes them back down.

"here," gojo mumbles, "let's get that bra off of you, huh?"

"i don't...—"

he doesn't listen, fingers unclasping your bra and slipping it off your shoulders, leaving your breasts free. goosebumps flood your skin once more and your nipples harden at the cold hair, left bare and completely vulnerable.

gojo doesn't waste anytime, hands moving to grab both of your breasts with his much larger hands and squeezes, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips.

geto moans at the sound.

"it's your turn, baby," gojo whispers in your ear, voice low and guttural. "you're gonna ride suguru's thigh."

eyes widening, you meet geto's eyes. "i... i don't—ah!" gojo pinches your nipples and your back straightens, overwhelmed by the new sensations you were experiencing. "i don't know how!"

"it's okay," geto soothes, his voice softer than it had been this entire time. "i'll guide you." and for emphasis, his hands tighten around your hips, and he pulls, guiding you forward. you forced to comply, and your back curves as your pussy drags across the material of his pants, pressing against your clit as you gasp.

"oh!"

"that's it," gojo smiles against your neck, pressing a kiss there, "like that. good girl."

geto pushes back, and the sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt as he drags your pussy across his thigh. the firmness of his toned thigh combined with the material of his pants has you seeing stars, head falling back against gojo's shoulders as the bliss wells in you.

masturbating by yourself has never felt this good.

even as you're forced to grind, neck sucked and kissed by gojo, his hands squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, pulling, the pleasure is undeniable. geto's hands move you, rocking you back and forth, the movements turning smooth as your pussy grows wet, leaving a trail of your juice on geto's thigh.

"oh! oh, god!" you cry out, and gojo is quick to let go of one of your breast, hand falling to your mouth, forcing it open to press his fingers against your tongue, pulling at your lips painfully and muffling your cries. "mm! ah!"

you start to move with geto, chasing your high as it overhwhelms your senses, unable to think of anything else. it's enough that geto can let go, grabbing your hands instead and sbegins uck on your fingers.

it's sinful the way he does. letting his tongue drag across your palm, wrapping around the tips of your fingers, sucking in a way that has you ashamed to even witness.

"that's a good girl," geto praises in between sucking. "get off on my thigh. just like that."

"you look so hot," gojo moans, "look so pretty. our pretty little slut."

his fingers force themselves further down your throat, and your moans gag on his fingers, body twitching as the coil starts to tighten and you see white in your vision.

"you gonna cum?" geto asks, leaning forward to suck on the nipple gojo's hand neglected, holding your hands against his chest. "gonna cum, angel?"

you nod in gojo's hands, "ah! yesh! yesh im gonna cum—mm!"

"go ahead," gojo edges, pulling at your nipple, twisting. "cum on suguru's thigh like the filthy slut you are."

your vision blurs and the coil snaps then, egged on by their words and actions, movements jerking to a stop as you twitch on geto's lap. gojo's hand moves to cover your lips completely, fingers soaked in your spit, muffling your cry as you orgasm. geto suck on your other nipple, using his tongue to swirl across it, the pleasure blinding as you experience a feeling you never have before.

they help you ride out your high, gojo pressing kisses along the side of your neck as geto shifts to bite along your breast, the pain mixing with the pleasure as you spasm in his lap.

as the pleasure fades, their movements slow and gojo's hands leave your lips as you slump forward, exhausted and used.

gojo and geto glance at each other, watching as you slump against geto, before a moment later, your body begins to shake, sobs pouring from your lips as everything catches up to you. even if you are crying against one of the men who'd done this to you, you have no strength to try and pull away, letting them hold you as you like, sobbing.

you're ashamed and violated. they'd forced you, used you to their whims, and still... you'd gotten off on your own teacher's thigh. you'd cummed from their actions and had even grinded yourself. you felt like filth, exhausted and mortified.

and scared.

"don't cry, angel," gojo brushes your hair back as geto moves to brush off the crusted cum dried on your face. "it's okay. we understand you didn't mean to hurt us."

you let out a cry at their twisted words, using your vulnerability to twist into a story that fits their needs.

"besides," geto moves to continue. "now that we understand each other, everything will be better from now on, right?"

you just press your face harder against the crook of his neck.

"what a cry baby," gojo laughs, dragging his nails across your back.

"our cry baby," geto corrects. "you hear that baby, your ours now?"

"ours to use as we like," gojo clarifies as if that's needed.

"exactly. and next time, i wanna cum inside her."

"me too. we need to train her ass to take us too."

a sharp slap is delivered across your bum for emphasis.

your sobs grow louder in response, as geto and gojo simply laugh, petting your hair and rubbing your back.

1K notes View Post

gumiiiiezzzz

1 year ago

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

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gumiiiiezzzz

1 year ago

hidden affections • itadori yuji

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.

That is until he met you.

Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.

“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”

Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.

“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”

The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”

Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”

“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”

Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.

Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.

“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.

You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.

Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day.

“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”

Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.

“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.

The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.

“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.

“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”

The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”

Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.

You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.

“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk.

You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.

“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”

“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.

He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.

Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift.

Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.

“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”

“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”

“Do you understand how amazing you are?”

With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?

The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.

Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.

“...Itadori?” you gasped.

The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here?

Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”

You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks.

Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.

Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"

"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”

Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.

“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”

Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”

Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling.

Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.

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gumiiiiezzzz

1 year ago

My Addition To The Jujutsu Kaisen Text Posts (is That What These Are Called?)

my addition to the jujutsu kaisen text posts (is that what these are called?)

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gumiiiiezzzz

1 year ago

virgin!gojo's brain stops when you give him head for the first time. he doesn't know how to process the event going on. you are dropped to your knees for him? god. he would only imagine this but now here you are. when your pretty lips kiss his tip, he jerks at the sensation, the softness. you smile and proceed to kitten lick the precum off his cockhead, sending shock down his spine. you don't give him a warning and swallow his cock whole in one go. shit. his heart is basically going to explode. the warmth of your mouth is embracing his long peachy dick. your lower lip is so close to his balls. he grips whatever surface he can until his knuckles go white. he is so cute, all moaning and yelping like that. "ngh—", "unh!", "f-fuuuuck." Sounds like music to your ears. he does this thing with his moan where they are always dragged out in the end and almost never quick. if they were to be quick, he'll start chanting that single word until he has orgasmed. Almost like "ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! fuck"

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