𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜.𝘚 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢

You loved him. But he threw it away.

Tw: I cried writing this, Angst angst and more angst, Cheating, Break up, Alcohol, Betrayal, short blurb, bad living situations/financial problems mentioned.

Song: crawling back to you - hozier cover.

You adored him. Everything about him. Your eyes were so full of love when you looked at him. Always that some, head over heels, puppy love, doe-eyed look. You gave him everything.

Gojo looked down at you, and you were just staring at him, admiring him, adoring him. He was your everything.

“Something on my face?” He’d smile, that cute little grin on his lips that you adored.

“You’re so perfect.” You’d whisper so softly it would take Gojo’s breath away. That look of love had his heart skipping a beat and his knees growing weak.

You two were at a party. You were dressed in a cute little outfit, and had been sipping on the same beer all night. Gojo however was about four shots deep. He was definitely more than tipsy.

But he’d always return to you, giggling like a love sick fool, wrapping his arms around you like you were his life line.

However, tonight was different.

You couldn’t find him.

Where was he?

You’d pour your drink out and throw it away, before asking around for him.

You started from the front of the house, all the way to the back.

“Have you seen my boyfriend? Gojo?” You would gently tap on people’s shoulders. Feeling an uneasy feeling settle in the pit of your stomach the longer you couldn’t find him.

You finally stopped asking around and just began opening doors. The bathroom? Had two strangers making out. A bedroom? Someone was throwing up all over the duvet.

However, it wasn’t until you made it to the last door. Without hesitation, you opened it. But your heart shattered the moment your eyes landed on the bed.

Gojo had some stranger riding him.

That wasn’t even the worst part, because when he looked over at you, it was like he didn’t recognize you. His eyes were so fogged by lust and alcohol, that he thought you were some stranger.

“We’re kinda busy. Unless you wanted to join? You have a nice enough body.” He’d wink at you, before turning his attention back to the woman riding him.

Tears were rolling down your face before you could stop them. Your breath was stuttered. Throat tight and mouth dry.

Slowly, stiffly turning away, you began to walk out of that house. Step by step, your heart breaking.

You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. So much so that you never even imagined that he could do this. You loved him so hard that his actions left your heart cracked and in ruin.

You walked home that night. Feet sore and cracked, bleeding a bit around the heel from how far you walked.

But when you made it home, you just sat down and stared at the wall. You didn’t make a sound, you couldn’t. You were in denial. But what followed denial was a sadness you weren’t ready for. It was the kind of sadness that left you empty.

White lashes fluttered open and groan heaved past his lips. Gojo sat up slowly, holding his head. “Fuck I’m hung over… baby?” Feeling to his left, he felt his hand touch someone. But when he looked over, it wasn’t you. It was some stranger.

He inhaled sharply and immediately shot out of bed. Tripping over his feet as he got dressed. He’d never moved so fast in his life.

Scrambling out the door, he called an uber. And when the car parked, he rushed into your shared home.

He saw you on the couch, still awake. Your eyes were red and your face was puffy, you looked exhausted but your face was empty.

But when you looked at him, he crumbled.

Your look of love and complete and utter adoration, was gone. Replaced by something that knocked the air from his chest and had him swallowing thickly.

“Y/n- I-I-“ he knew you knew. How could you not when you looked at him with such sorrow? Such pain? Such betrayal? “It’s- it’s not what it seems like.”

You just stared at him. That ache in your chest was heavy. So heavy it was hard to look away. “Have a nice night?” You mumbled, your voice hoarse from crying so hard the night before.

Gojo’s brows furrowed and his eyes grew glassy. That feeling of guilt began to swallow him whole. The guilt that made his limbs heavy and his eyes burn. “Baby- please,” he begged. He didn’t know what for. Forgiveness? For you to just be angry at him? To yell and to scream instead of looking at him like he just destroyed your hopes and dreams. And he had.

Slowly, you stood up. “I hope it was worth it,” you murmured before grabbing your phone and leaving the house. Not looking back as you left Gojo to hold onto his chest to try and calm the pain.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean for this- I- I was drunk I-“ he spoke to himself. But even his own words felt alien to his ears.

He’d ruined 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Just for moments of pleasure. He threw away your relationship, your love, your future… and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

So in your shared home, he’d never felt more alone. Clarity brought pain, pain that he was to blame. Of course he was. His own inner voice mocked him. His nails dug into his knees as began to cry. To mourn his own mistakes, to mourn the loss of you.

He’d ruined everything.

But he wouldn’t let this be the end.

He could fix this.

Couldn’t he?

It’d been two months since his betrayal. Two months since you’d left him standing there. Two months since you took your belongings and left your shared home.

Two months since he’d seen you.

His mistakes had left him broken. But he knew he could only blame himself. It didn’t hurt any less.

You’d left behind a hoodie, and it smelled like you still do this day. Gojo made sure to spray your perfume on his pillows so they’d still smell like you.

Your eyes hung low. You were tired. Exhausted. You’d had to get a job as a waitress to pick up the income that Gojo’s absence left you without.

You were working exhaustingly long shifts. Picking up doubles when you could. Having almost no off days.

You’d lost weight. You didn’t look well. You were worked to the bone, but you didn’t have time to apply for a better job. Rent was so expensive, even in the shitty neighborhood you now lived in.

Retying your apron, you grabbed a pen before heading to a new table. Not yet looking up, you greeted the guest. “Welcome to Joseph’s boil, how can I hel-…” your words fell on the tip of your tongue as you saw him.

He was just as shocked as you. His shock turned to worry and concern. He’d never seen you in such poor condition. Was it possible for someone to look the way you did in just two months?

His heart ached but rejoiced as he finally was able to see you again. To hear your voice. To inhale your scent.

“Y/n?” He said your name so softly.

His voice broke the flood gates. Your hands had started shaking and your bottom lip quivered. Your pretty eyes turned glassy with so much emotion not even the finest author could put it into words.

Slamming down your apron, you quickly fled the restaurant. Despite the heavy rain or the fact that you were getting soaked.

“Wait!” Gojo got up from his seat, the chair falling back with an ear piercing screech.

He ran after you. His shirt sticking to his form as water drenched him just as much as it drenched you.

“Leave me alone!” You yelled, your voice pathetically shaky. You choked on your words as you cried and tried to speed off.

“No! Please- please just wait!” He managed to catch up and grab you by the wrist and pull you back in.

“Get off of me!” You yelled, and tried to yank yourself out of his grip but he wrapped his arms around you and you held you against him. Even as you pounded your fists against his chest. “I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Your words pierced his heart, your tears felt like acid on his skin but he held you close. Held you even when your body just went limp against him.

“I hate you…” you’d whimper into his chest, sobbing as everything came crushing down on you at once. “How could you do this to me?! Why?!”

“I don’t know. Im so sorry,” was all he could whisper.

And at the end of the day, even when you were just holding each other in the rain, nothing could repair the pain he left forever in your heart. The insecurity and trust issues he planted in your soul. Nothing would ever fix what he broke.

So instead of bird that got zapped, I’m like a hairless chicken who was wrapped in live wire and then thrown at the president.

I fucking love this holy balls my face hurts from smiling and giggling so much y

welcome back to frat boy, bf! katsuki, but you're taking a nap and you miss his calls for the first time...

k<3 :

u home yet??

2 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

yo. you said you were leavin class 20 mins ago.

stopped somewhere?

4 missed calls – the loml <333

k<3 :

sweet girl. answer me

not fuckin playin

7 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

i swear to fuck if ur phone died again im gonna duct tape a charger to ur bag

10 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

come on

please

just text me

by the time the clock ticks past 10 minutes, katsuki’s spiraling.

he’s already speed-walked home from campus—snarled at kirishima when he offered to tag along, ignored denki yelling something about pizza—and practically slammed the front door open.

he checks every room with increasing panic.

kitchen? empty. bathroom? lights off. your shoes? by the door. your bag? slung carelessly on the couch.

his heart’s in his throat now. he storms to the bedroom and—there you are.

sprawled out across the bed in your favorite hoodie (his, of course), wrapped in a nest of blankets like some cozy little shit, hair a mess, cheek smushed into the pillow. dead to the world.

katsuki just stops in the doorway. halfway between furious and relieved. he exhales so hard it sounds like a curse, raking a hand through his hair. “fuckin’ hell, woman.”

he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puff of breath from your lips, the faint twitch of your fingers as you shift slightly, still completely out of it.

he pads over slowly and crouches beside the bed, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress. just watching you sleep like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen and the most infuriating thing he’s ever dealt with.

you don’t even stir.

“called you ten fuckin’ times,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face gently, thumb lingering at your temple. “had my heart about to claw outta my chest.”

he glares down at your peaceful expression. “you couldn’t send one goddamn text?”

you snore a little.

he huffs out a soft, involuntary laugh and leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, voice rough now—not angry, just overflowing with that messy blend of worry and love and the kind of fear he doesn’t even want to name.

“you scared the shit outta me,” he says, voice barely audible now.

he kicks off his shoes, strips down to his hoodie, and climbs into bed beside you, dragging you into his chest like he needs to feel your heartbeat under his palm.

and maybe he does.

he buries his face in your neck, breathes you in, and closes his eyes—like maybe if he holds you tight enough, you’ll never slip away without him noticing again.

“you ever ignore my calls again, i’m gonna kill you… then bring you back just to yell at you.”

it takes a minute for your senses to catch up. the first thing you register is warmth—a lot of it. the solid wall of heat behind you, the weight of an arm slung heavy around your waist, a hand gripping your thigh like it belongs there.

you blink awake slowly, the sunlight slicing through the curtains, warm and golden against your cheek. your mouth is dry. your head is foggy. your entire body feels like it sank into the mattress and refused to surface again.

you open your eyes fully, only to find katsuki awake. already looking at you. already scowling.

he’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, messy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. his eyes are sharp—wide-awake, unblinking, trained directly on your face.

“you almost died.”

you blink. “what?”

“you almost died,” he repeats flatly, voice low and grumpy. “that’s the only excuse i’ll accept.”

you shift slightly, throat dry. “what are you—?”

“my calls,” he snaps, cutting you off. “my texts. ten fuckin’ calls, sweets. not a single goddamn word.”

you glance over at your nightstand. your phone is there. fully charged. blinking with a whole list of missed notifications.

“oh my god.”

your brain stutters through memories. class had wiped you out. you’d come home, tossed your stuff down, meant to take a quick nap—and clearly crashed harder than you thought. hard enough to sleep through ten calls and a boyfriend having a full panic spiral.

you roll onto your back, face him, voice small. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t answer. you could’ve passed out, gotten jumped, gotten hit by a fuckin’ car for all i knew.”

your stomach turns with guilt. “i’m sorry…”

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, frustration fading into something a little softer. “i came home ready to break the door down. thought i’d find you hurt or... i dunno... fuck.”

his voice breaks a little on that last word.

your chest aches. you sit up slowly, sliding into his lap and cupping his face with both hands. he doesn’t resist. just leans into you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he needs you right there, like it’s the most natural place for them to be.

“i just passed out,” you whisper. “like… sleep coma status.”

“you didn’t even flinch,” he mutters. “thought i was gonna have to check your pulse.”

you snort softly. “i was probably dreaming about you yelling at me.”

he squeezes your thigh, resting his forehead to your collarbone. “not funny. you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest—still fast, still a little shaken. you lean against him and whisper, voice quiet: “what happens if i do scare you again?”

he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. something soft settles in his expression. that sharp edge in his gaze dulls just a little—not gone, but mellowed, focused. it’s the look he only gives you, like you’re the only thing on the planet worth softening for.

he thinks for a second.

“first,” he says, tone completely serious. “i panic. obviously.”

you snort.

“then,” he continues, brushing a thumb along your jaw, “i break into your phone, make it so the ringtone screams your name at full volume. every time. forever.”

you giggle. “that’s horrifying.”

“i’m not done,” he deadpans. “next, i put a gps tracker in your backpack. and your keychain. and maybe your bra.”

you raise a brow. “my bra?”

“don’t question my methods, woman. i need intel.”

you laugh again, leaning fully into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he goes quiet. arms wrap tighter around you, firm and warm.

“maybe... i’d hold you like this,” he says, low and sure. “and not let go for a long time.”

you close your eyes as his hand slides up your back, smoothing slow circles into your spine. the rest of the world fades out, tucked away beneath the weight of his embrace and the soft beat of his heart against your cheek.

“and,” he adds, voice barely a whisper now, “i’d make sure you never forget how much you matter to me.”

your throat tightens a little. you bury your face deeper in his neck, smile trembling.

“okay,” you breathe.

“yeah?” he murmurs, holding you a little closer.

“yeah. i promise not to scare you again."

there’s a beat of silence. then—

“good,” he mutters. “’cause i might start showing up to your classes and shit.”

you snort into his shoulder, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. “i promise i’ll keep my phone on ring from now on.”

“you better,” he grumbles, then pauses. “swear to god, i aged five years in seconds.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll still be hot, even gray.”

he gives you a dry look. “tch. you’re lucky i love with you.”

you grin. “i know.”

his eyes narrow. “oh, do you now?”

and that’s when it happens—he pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes narrowed, before reaching up and squishing your cheeks between both hands, mushing your lips into a pout.

“you have to say it back,” he barks, holding your face like a grumpy old man scolding a puppy, his thumbs digging into your squishy cheeks. “or i’ll keep doin’ this.”

you try to speak, but it just comes out as a muffled, “i lubb youuuu.”

he snorts, his grin slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“i love you more, sweet girl,” he mutters, releasing your cheeks.

your lips are still puffed out from where he squished your cheeks, but he kisses them anyway—warm and slow and just a little too soft for someone who was grumbling about murder five minutes ago.

his palm stays on your jaw, thumb brushing lazily along your cheekbone, as if he’s still making sure you’re real. your cheeks are still tender from where he squished them, the warmth of his palm lingering.

you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you let yourself melt a little further into him.

wrapped up in warmth and safety and the ridiculous, overprotective heart of the boy who loves you more than he knows what to do with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ this happened to me last week and i missed the opportunity to buy what i want from mcdonalds 💔 (the minecraft toys here are ASS) hope you guys enjoyed, also how do i make them fuck any suggestions 👉👈

I'm sorry but I keep reading your works and the way you always write fiancee as finance makes me giggle

I'm sure it's autocorrect of smth but STILL it's so funny 😭

NO STOP OMFG I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE... that's so embarrassing holy shit. (I literally love u sm for telling me)

Imagine Gojo has been plotting on you for years and finally has you.

Your head ached, eyes sensitive to light and the nausea you felt had you feeling violent. Of course, this is what you get for chugging back a whole bottle of red wine.

Slowly sitting up, you finally forced your eyes open. Looking around, you blinked. This was not your ratty ass apartment. Your eyes locked with a picture of you and Gojo. And immediately, the familiarity of the room began to catch up with you.

You immediately looked down when you heard a deep groan. Just as naked as you, Gojo had an arm wrapped around your waist. His pale skin was littered in bites and hickies. And you couldn’t see it yet, but there was plenty of scratch marks.

“Shit.” Sighing, your rubbed your hands over your face trying to remember what happened. What could have lead to you fucking your best friend since highschool.

You tried to slip out of his hold, but this mf had a tighter grip that gorilla glue. In fact, the more you tried to squirm out, the tighter he held you. It was like you were drowning in quick sand.

“Gojo.” You glared down at him, and that was when you noticed the shit eating grin on his face. His eyes still closed.

“Mm-mm. It’s Satoru to you baby, ‘specially after last night.” He sounded so god damn cocky.

You could only roll your eyes, a red hue lit up your cheeks as you finally squeezed out of his arms. Immediately, you walked to the mirror.

You were covered in hickies and bite marks. “Now what the fuck.” You tried to sound angry, fuck did you try. But it was damn hard.

You were hot. Gojo was hot. You’d been two peas in a pod in highschool. And sure you ‘experimented’ in high-school with him, mainly letting him be your first kiss and first make out but that was it. You two never had any privacy between each other. You’d cuddle together, cry together, you’d tell him how you got fucked by a one night stand and he’d just insult the guy the whole time (he wanted to be the one fucking you). But this? Actually have sex with him? Shit.

“What happened last night?” You spoke up as you snatched his shirt from the ground and pulled it over your head. The fabric falling to your mid thigh and a little lower.

“Well, i had you face down ass up, then tried that side ways position I saw from twi-“ Gojo was so smug about it too.

“Not that, you asshat! I know we both drank a shit ton of wine…” closing your eyes, you rubbed your temples. However, you felt two strong arms wrap around you waist.

“What’s wrong? You regret it?” Gojo rested his chin on your shoulders, his hands, much bigger than yours, massaged the soreness from your hips where he’d definitely squeezed to hard when giving you back-shots that night prior.

You stayed silent for a moment, growing a little shy as you murmured, “no.”

And just like that Gojo’s shit eating grin was back. He was happier than a man who won the lottery. “I for one don’t regret it.” His hands rose to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Been plotting on your fine ass since freshman year.”

You blinked at him, wondering if you’d misheard him. “Wait what?”

“You heard me.” His arms wrapped around you completely as he littered kisses all over your neck. “You’re mine now.”

A slow smile took on your lips and you leaned back against him. You found yourself not minding that much. Or at all.

“If that’s true, I guess I can admit that I had a crush on you in 8th grade.” You laughed when Gojo stared at you bewildered.

“No! NOOO!” He was whining like he just got shot. “Why didn’t you make a move?! We could’ve been highschool sweethearts!”

“You- you’rere so weird.” You snorted.

I LOVE ERIKA

I love garden injuries so much 😭😭😭😭

YAAAYYYAA I DID SOMETHING RIGHT 🤭😏🎊😩🥹 (ilysm)

“Why won’t you marry me?!”

In which you have some bad past trauma and it's holding back your relationship with Gojo.

A/n: This is honestly just for me. These Sandra Bullock movies have me sobbing my fucking eyes out and writing shitty ass stories. Anyways. This is hurt/comfort. It also hasn't been spell-checked or anything so don't shit on it pls.

“Baby, why haven’t I met your parents?” Gojo gave you a quirky little grin, kissing your cheek sweetly.

You stared at him, your happy mood immediately faltered. “Well, I- I— it’s just not really important.” You gave him a little smile and kissed his forehead, before going into your bedroom.

Gojo sighed, growing frustrated. You always did this. Anytime he asked about your parents, about marriage, about children, you completely shut down.

And he was getting so tired of it. He just wanted to take the step of your relationship, he wanted to be with you. You’d been together for 4 years for fucks sake.

Getting up, he tried to keep his frustrations in, walking inside your shared bedroom, “baby please, I’m ready to take this to the next step—“

“No goddamn it no!” You snapped at him, eyes glossy and a mean look on your face. But all the anger just covered up so much trauma.

“Why the hell not?! You have met everybody in my life! I have given you everything!” Now he was yelling back, the vein his forehead straining.

“Stop fucking asking me all the fucking questions!” You stood up from the bed.

One thing led to another and you were having a screaming match.

However, when Gojo raised his hand a little too quickly, you flinched. Your body tensed so hard and your head shrunk back.

Gojo stared at you, mouth agape at your reaction. He watched as you looked back up at him, as if you were waiting for a hit or anything.

When you saw his staring at you, you grew so fucking embarrassed. Your face was red and your eyes were teared up, tear streaks running down your face and oh— you were a fucking mess.

You immediately grabbed your keys and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind you. In nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, no shoes or socks.

“Wait! Sweets you can’t go out like that please—“ he tried to follow after you, but you were pulling out of the driveway so fast there were streaks on the road. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He yelled, slamming the door shut so hard it knocked photos off the wall.

A picture of you and him lay on the ground, shattered to bits and torn.

“Shit…” he sighed, his own tears beginning to fall as he leaned down to pick up the picture. Flipping over the picture, he noticed a phone number. Curiosity mixed with the absolute feeling of his heart cracking in fucking half. So he called it.

“Hello?” And old woman’s voice answered.

Gojo’s brows furrowed, “who is this? This is Gojo Satoru.”

“This is **** (your mom’s name)”, the older woman answered.

“Are you y/n’s mother?” Gojo’s voice got a little lighter, would he finally get to meet you?

“Yes… is this her boyfriend?” The woman got a little sassier.

“Yes… well, I am trying to marry your daughter but she is proving to be… very stubborn…” Gojo sighed, before plopping down on the couch, deciding to give you space, he felt so fucking bad.

“What happened?” Your mother spoke up after a hefty moment of silence.

“I asked her about when I could meet her family… and she freaked out.” Gojo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh… well that’ll do it I suppose.” She sighed, sipping on the Bloody Mary she’d made moments prior.

“What do you mean? Seriously all I want to do is marry the woman, why is it so hard?” Gojo glared at the picture for a second before the anger immediately dissipated into sadness. “She acts like the floor will fall out from under her any second.”

“It’s because it has, it always has. Poor thing, I s’pose this is my fault.” The old woman sighed, glancing out of the window and at the little pond a few yards out.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ll admit I wasn’t the best mother. She was the oldest out of three and I had a rocky relationship with my husband. I guess I’d taken it out on her… left her alone to take care of her siblings and her father. That drunk old bastard,” she huffed, “she hates me now. I understand why. Every time things would get good, something would always, always go wrong.”

“…” Gojo stayed quiet for a long time. Just taking in this information. He had no idea, he had no idea about anything. Anything about your life before you’d turned 23.

“She’s afraid she’ll end up like me, afraid her marriage will turn out like mine, that she’ll treat her kids like I did mine. I’ll forever regret what I did to my poor sweet girl.” Your mother sighed softly, heart aching with regret and agony that she’ll never get her daughter back.

“…I have to go.” Gojo immediately hung up the phone and stood up. Dialing your number over and over and over and over and over again, he called you 106 times.

Every time, he got no answer. So, he just decided to wait. He cleaned up the glass, tried to watch a show, and eventually tried to cook dinner. But he was terrible at it. You were much better. And that thought had his shoulders slumping.

It wasn’t until dark that you finally showed up again. Eyes all red and swollen, bare feet roughed up and you had fresh little cuts and bruises that littered your body.

You’d gone and ran through the woods to get to the old creek you used to play in as a kid.

It was 100% not safe, 100% stupid, and it 100% had Gojo’s heart shattering a little more.

You didn’t say anything to him, just walked past him and slipped into the guest bedroom, before collapsing on the bed.

You’d exhausted yourself with all the crying and walking you’d done. But you still didn’t want to speak to Gojo. You weren’t mad at him, not really. Just scared.

Things had been going so good. What happens if you marry him and end up a drunkard witch like your mother? What if you turn cruel and horrible to your children?

Fears ran deep and trauma was still solidified in your mind from your adolescence.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice cut you away from your mental thoughts. From the spiral you were threatening to go on again.

Glancing up, you noticed him staring at you with sad eyes, “please talk to me.” He whispered so softly. And when you didn’t say anything, he took that as a good sign and walked further into the room before sitting down on the bed.

“…”

“I spoke to your mother.”

You immediately looked up at him, shocked and horrified all at the same time. “You did what?!”

“I’d accidentally broken the frame and saw the number…” he handed you the picture of the two of you, your mother’s number scribbled on the back.

You’d written that a while ago. When you had debated on calling her or not. You’d written down to have her number somewhere, just didn’t want it in your phone.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I understand now why you don’t want to take any steps further…” Gojo spoke so softly, his touch so gentle on your chin as he had you looking up at him. “Baby, I am so sorry. I had no idea what’d happened or what you’d gone through… I should have never pressured you like that.”

You just stared at him, your bottom quivering and your eyes growing glassy again.

“I love you. With all my heart. You never, and will never ever have to worry about the carpet getting yanked out from under your again.” He kissed your forehead softly. “I want to be there for you, in sickness and in health, I want to be there for you in the good and the bad. I want you, all of you.”

“You don’t mean that.. I-I— what if down the road you start to resent me- or- or what if-“

“No, baby that won’t happen.” Gojo gave you the most adoring expression, he was looking at you like you truly were the only thing in his life— in his world even. “It won’t happen because I love you with my everything, and nothing will ever change that. And if I need to remind you every morning and every night I will.”

You swallowed thickly, sighing shakily before burying your face in his neck as you crawled up to him. “I’m so sorry baby.” You murmured, the tears already flowing.

“It’s okay. You’ve done nothing wrong, pretty.” He whispered against your hair, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arms around you completely. “But please, next time we argue or anything like that, put some pants and shoes on before going running through the woods.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, a little giggle leaving you. And that had a smile on his face almost immediately. “I love you Toru.”

“I love you, sweets.”

Gojo fucks you like he hates you when he’s drunk.

Poll result imagine

Gojo had been knocking back shots all night. Celebrating that you’d agreed to be his finance, and accepted his ring. Lord he was happy. Got the girl of his dreams, the girl he’d been plotting over since kindergarten. The girl he has been in love with since fifth grade but he’d always sworn he’d been in love since y’all had a play date when you were both three.

It was just you and him. He didn’t want to be around anyone else for now except you. Even tho he did want to eventually show you off to all his friends.

He wore a button up shirt, the buttons unbuttoned, along with a pair of slacks. The belt unbuckled and the button unbuttoned, leaving his fly slightly unzipped. His glasses had been discarded on the counter and his hair was a mess. A sexy mess albeit.

And as he’d tap his glass on the counter and tip his head back, downing the shot— his eyes would remain on yours.

You weren’t much better. Just as buzzed as he was, and just as happy to be his and he be yours. You just wore his shirt and a pair of panties.

Hair still wet from your shower. You gave him a goofy smile, pulling him closer by his shirt. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“You are so corny.” A lot coming from Gojo, especially as he’d always crack the corny jokes. Letting you pull him closer, his hands resting on your hips. His forehead came to rest on yours, his eyes lidded as he stared down at you.

“Yeah? You like it.” You grinned, your nails gently raking down his chest before slipping them under his shirt. The feeling of your cold hands on his abs had them tensing, a quiet hiss leaving him.

“Maybe just a bit. But you know what I really like?” Leaning down, he whispered against your ear as he reached behind you, squeezing your ass with a grin.

You giggled, letting him pull you close as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yeah? You like me so much.”

“Oh absolutely.” Gojo pressed a kiss to your neck, following with a bite. Your breath hitched softly, nails squeezing slightly on his shoulders.

“My husband is so whipped.” You teased, your hand raising to tangle with the hair on his nape. Grown out from an old undercut as you tug it gently.

Gojo groaned into your neck, the title ‘husband’ had his body reacting way more strongly than it should’ve. Cock straining against his boxers, heart thudding against his chest. “Fuck, it sounds so good when you say it.”

You could smile before finally pulling his face from your neck and pressing your lips against his. His mouth tasted like Malibu, tequila, and rum with some shitty chaser. And it only made you more eager.

You trusted your fiancé, you’d spoken about drunk before, and you’d both decided that it was fine. You trusted one another and had a safe word already in place.

Plus. Being drunk made it more interesting.

Before you knew it, Gojo had you riding his face, thighs on either side of his head, his arms wrapped around them to keep you planted firmly on his mouth. His tongue putting in the work as he ate you out like a man starved.

He was groaning and moaning, his eyes rolling back each time you squeeze your thighs around his head. His hips pushed up into nothing, painfully throbbing cock pressing against his boxers.

Your hands ran through his hair and tugged, guiding him so his nose would bump against your clit and you could grind on his face. And Gojo was loving every fucking second.

“F-fuck— Toru!!” You’d squeal, the pleasure had your brain short circuiting. Your thought process already thrown out the window from being more than sloshed with an array of alcoholic beverages, but with how good Gojo was working you with his mouth, lord the only thing you could think about was him.

“You taste so fucking good, pretty girl.” He’d groan against your cunt before shaking his head a bit, grinning when you’d moan louder. He knew you were close, the way your clit was throbbing against his tongue and your hole was clenching around the fingers he’d shoved inside was a tell-tell sign.

“Mm!” You could only loan in response as you felt an orgasm hit you full force. Your thighs clenching and your cunt tightening like a vice around his fingers.

Gojo moved you to sit on his lap as he sat up. His face, nose down, absolutely covered in your arousal, he only grinned and licked his lips.

Brows furrowed, face completely fucked out, you breathlessly murmured, “you are fucking filthy.”

“Mhmm, you gonna ride my cock? Let me put a baby in my future wife?” Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, your spazzing cunt resting directly on top of his bulge.

“Mmhm.” Nodding your head, you let Gojo move positions. You let him lay you on your back, and move you so you had the back of your thighs pressed against his chest, your ass resting just belong his cock as he pulled it out, letting it slap against your aching cunt.

“So good for me, shit. Not gonna last long baby.” He grunted, eyes already fluttering closed as you pressed down on his dick so it’d be squished between the lips of your cunt.

“Fuck me already, husband. Want it so bad.” You could only whine, and press you hands flat against his v-line, urging him to press inside you.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.” Gojo was quick to slowly slide in, however, he didn’t stop to let you adjust, no he slid in straight to the hilt. Stuttered moans slipped past his lips, his hips struggling not to slam against you with how wet you were.

“O-oh fuck, want your babies— please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the feeling of that big stretch had your mind blank. The feeling of his dick in your guts enough to make you crave him more.

“You can’t just that,” Gojo groaned, before finally giving in and pulling out, just to slam back into you.

His hands were tight around the back of your thighs, nails digging into your soft skin as he pounded into you. His pelvis flush against your ass every time he fucked his cock into your tight cunt. Groaning and mumbling incoherent shit about how you were his wife and he’d make you pregnant as fast as fucking possible.

Your nails rake down the top of his thighs, leaving behind bright red trails that had him hissing in pain, but it only had his cock throbbing.

One hand moved off your hips, and he leaned forward so low that your knees touched your chest. One hand on the bed beside your head as he balanced and put all his weight into fucking you.

“Toru~!” You’d cry out constantly, eyes rolling back as he managed to get deeper inside you. You swore you could feel him in your guts. But then again that could just be the alcohol talking.”

“S-shit, I’m not gonna last baby.” Quickly, he moved a hand down between your thighs and only your click. Moving into tight, quick circles. “Cum with me, pretty girl. Wanna feel you cream around me as I fill you up.”

Gojo’s filthy words had you whining, but you only nodded. The extra stimulation had your back arching and your nails raking down his back inside of his thighs. It didn’t take long before you were cumming around him and he was filling your puss up to the brim with his seed.

It left you both panting breathlessly, seamlessly melting against one another as Gojo pulled around and plopped down beside you.

He immediately wrapped his arms around you, his face pressing into your chest, buried in your tits. Your thighs wrapped around his arms and your hands gently raked through his hair.

Thoroughly sated and exhausted. Your head spinning as you felt your eyes forcefully close themselves.

“I love you.” Gojo smiled and pressed a kiss to the engagement ring on your finger. Before allowing himself to pass out with you.

This is why writers abandon stories. It’s not that we don’t love them, it’s because we don’t want to love them alone.

why is privacy so eroded. I get treated like a nutcase if I say no, I don't want strange companies taking pictures of my home and putting them online for maps or whatever. I don't want to be in the background of your tiktok, and I think it's weirder for you to assume I'm okay with it than it is for me to politely ask you to refilm it so my face isn't in the frame. I don't enjoy handing my employer a list of every online account I have and feeling under surveillance when I'm just shit posting or sharing pictures of my cats or garden harvest. I don't want to hear your private calls on speaker on the bus, esp when the person on the line doesn't know you're broadcasting their words to strangers. I don't want an algorithm guessing what will piss me off the most so I spend more time online, engaging with shit I don't want to see or hear out of outrage. I don't want any of this. it's total ass.