#keikiwrites

[keikikait]

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n  

a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together. 

You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.

You thought he would follow his own rules, too.

It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.

You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.

As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo. 

“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”

You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.

He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”

Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.

Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”

Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.

You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.

You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.

You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.

For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.

You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.

You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.

“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”

You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”

"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”

You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”

Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"

You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.

Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”

Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."

The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”

“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing. 

“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.

“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”

You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.

He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”

You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."

"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"

You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”

He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"

The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second. 

You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."

You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you. 

You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.

The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.

The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.

You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.

You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.

Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?

He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”

You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”

You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”

You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed. 

You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.

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part two is here

[keikikait]

ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2k

summary: after a rude encounter with your next door neighbour, you decide to spend distance yourself from him, spending most of your nights at a friends house.

warnings: SMUT (masturbation, f & m), MINORS DNI 18+, suggestive flirting, not proofread (oops), jealous megumi, slight self deprecation talk (so ig a slight angst warning)

a note: i promise part 3 won't be delayed as much!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Things have gotten worse since you last spoke.

Each day begins with the jarring sound of his motorcycle revving right outside your window, shattering the tranquility of the morning. The noise reverberates through your whole apartment, making it impossible to ignore. And to make matters worse, he started blasting the worst rap music you’ve ever heard from a portable speaker while he works on his bike on Saturday afternoons. The cacophony of noise fills the air, making it impossible to concentrate or find any semblance of peace within your own home. 

Even though you’ve been trying to avoid him, checking outside your window a few too many times before leaving so you don’t run into him, he’s still been plaguing your mind. You had caught him like a cold or the flu, and now you’re praying that you’ll one day be immune. Sleeping was practically impossible, even the strongest earplugs and the loudest white noise couldn’t block out the sound of his, frankly, stupid fucking bike. You go to work irritable and exhausted, having to hype yourself up in the bathroom before clocking in. You dread going home, begging your manager to let you work late, trying to find every excuse to hang back and avoid your inevitable negative interaction with Megumi.

After days of sleepless nights and endless worry, you had finally reached your breaking point. With a heavy heart, you had mustered up the courage to do something you'd been dreading — ask a friend for a favor. With trembling hands, you dialed your friend Yuji’s number, hoping that he would understand. To your immense relief, he listened patiently and without judgment. You poured out your heart, sharing the sleepless nights and the constant fear that had become your reality.

To your surprise, Yuji didn't hesitate, offering you a place to stay for the days Megumi would wake up early to head to work, a sanctuary where you could finally rest and recharge. You accepted his offer, overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing it would give you the solace you desperately needed. The nights before Megumi's shifts became a routine. You would gather your belongings and head to Yuji's place, seeking refuge from the darkness that seemed to engulf your apartment. 

Each night, you would lie awake in your friend's spare bedroom, listening to the sounds of the outside world. The gentle hum of traffic, the distant laughter of passersby — these were the sounds of a life that seemed so far removed from your own. Part of you loved your time spent away from Megumi. Part of you didn’t. Even though he was annoying, stuck up, and frankly a bitch, he was so pretty to look at. You couldn’t help yourself sometimes, sneakily taking glances at him through your window while he worked on his bike, shirtless and sweating under the Japanese summer sun.

You felt guilty in a way. He hated you, yet you didn’t hate him. Why are you hanging on so tight? You wanted to hate him so badly, especially while you were laying propped up on your bed, had between your soft thighs as you thrust two fingers in and out of your cunt. You couldn’t help yourself, biting your duvet cover to keep yourself from moaning his name too loudly while you came, hips bucking into your hand while you imagined the ways he would talk you through it. You couldn’t help but imagine how handsome he would look with you all over his mouth, grinning at you as you beg to cum. Would he let you? Sometimes you would get carried away, sliding your fingers over your clit to draw out another orgasm, one that would leave you silent curled in a ball on your bed. Megumi seemed like the type to overstimulate you just for fun, after all. He clouded your mind, engulfing you with visions of him encased in smoke. He was beautiful, finite, a shining white light you had a hard time looking at. You were, quite frankly, down bad. 

Suffer does the wolf, crawling to thee.

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On the other side of the plaster wall, Megumi was having a similar experience. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, hoping if he revved his engine loud enough in the mornings you would come outside, all cute and grumpy with bedhead, yelling at him to quiet down. Maybe you would only be wearing a T-shirt too. He wondered what panties you would be wearing. Cotton? Lace? None at all?

He noticed your glances while he was working on his bike. After all, he did it shirtless hoping you would stare. All he wants is your attention, and can you blame him? You’re so soft and pretty, and all he wants to do is scoop you up and kiss you before bending you over his desk, his hand gripping your hair at the root as he fucks you dumb. He thinks about what you would sound like while he fucks you as he jerks off, one hand playing with his balls while the other strokes his cock up and down, teasing the tip with his fingers. He wonders what you would look like on your knees next to his bed, his cock draped across your face as you suck on his balls. He moans quietly when he cums, the liquid splattering onto his chest and abs and he wishes you were around to lick it up. Maybe after he would tug on your hair and have you thank him.

Megumi noticed a lot of things. He couldn't help but notice certain the frequent absences from your usual routine. With each passing day, Megumi's curiosity grew, and he started to pay closer attention to your whereabouts. That’s when he saw it, a dark blue car consistently parked at the entrance of the alleyway leading to your apartment building, the one you would climb in and out of on the days you were gone, the days you were away from him. Of course he took a note of the car, writing down the make and the model and the license plate, just in case.

Something else Megumi started noticing was your moans. You got braver and louder each time, and soon he noticed the way you would gasp and whimper and the little noise you made before you came. Megumi soon started feeling something he hadn’t felt in a while, jealousy. You had a boyfriend or a fuck-buddy, and whoever they are was able to make you cum. That part irritated him, he wanted to be the only one that could make you cum and shake on his cock or his tongue. The semantics of your relationship didn’t matter to him, but you were with someone who wasn’t him. So he waited for you to return, leaning against the railing of his small porch. He knew your schedule now, and you should be home any second. 

As the car pulls up, its headlights shine directly onto him, causing Megumi to avert his eyes. He watches as you step out of the car, bidding the driver, whom he can see now is a guy, farewell before making your way toward your door. The gravel crunched as the car reversed and smoothly drove away, leaving you and him standing alone in the tranquil evening. With a nimble hop, he crossed the railing and approached you, a faint smile playing across his lips. The world seemed to pause for a moment, as if time itself stood still, as you locked eyes with each other.

“Hey.” He says, climbing up onto your porch, swinging his legs over the barrier, and landing on his feet.

You don’t look up as you search for your keys. “You could’ve used the stairs.”

He grins. “Maybe I wanted to impress you.” The comment makes your cheeks warm, but you don’t reply as you continue to search through your seemingly endless tote bag. He sighs, “Listen, I have a question.”

You look up at him, and gods he is so pretty. You feel your blush deepen, trying not to gawk at the way his shoulders and arms look in that fucking black compression shirt. “Ask away.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “No. Why?” You finally find your keys, pulling them out as they jingle loudly from all of your keychains.

Megumi scoffs, keeping his arms crossed. “Come on. I’m not an idiot. I hear you moaning through the wall, you know.”

Your stomach lurches, your throat constricting. “Tha-that doesn’t mean anything.”

Megumi laughs, letting his arms drop to his side. “What about that guy that drives you everywhere?”

You put your key into the lock, swallowing hard. “He’s just my friend. I’ve been staying at his place recently-”

Megumi suddenly reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling the key out. “Don’t walk away. We’re having a conversation.” You gulp, holding onto your keys. He was right, that was kind of rude. “Continue.”

You take a shaky breath, unable to look him in the eyes, your gaze flicking around from the ground to the sunset behind him. “He’s just my friend. Nothing more.”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Megumi asks, trying to get in your line of sight. “Don’t look over there. Look at me.” You nod, looking at him, muttering an apology. Megumi smirks. “Good girl.”

Your throat dries up. This man is driving you crazy, and you can feel your thighs getting slick under your skirt. You subconsciously squeeze them together. “He-he isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just my friend.”

Megumi nods. “But you sleep together, right?”

“No.”

Megumi hums in response, getting closer to you. You instinctively back up until you hit the other railing. He towers over you, and you’re greeted with the smell of his cologne and shampoo as he smirks down at you. “Then what has you moaning so prettily, hmm? Is there another guy in your life?”

You shake your head. “N-no, I’m doing it, you know…solo.”

Megumi’s shoulders drop in relief. You don’t have anyone else. Does that mean he can have you all to himself? “What do you think about? When you touch yourself?” His voice is deep and smooth, right in your ear, causing your knees to buckle.

You gulp. “Nothing in particular.” He smirks. He doesn’t believe you. He reaches out to brush some hair out of your face but you move away, clutching your keys in your hands. He tries again, reaching for your arm this time, but you move away again.

You feel weird. He’s making an advance, one you aren’t opposed to, but you can’t seem to let your guard down and let him approach you. You sweat, shakily putting your key into the lock. You wanted to turn around, to throw your arms around him and let him take control of you, but you felt the familiar feeling of dread eating at your insides, sliding up your throat like bile. This almost felt too good to be true. You had spent weeks wishing for this exact moment, but now that it’s unraveling in front of you it’s hard to believe it’s happening and isn’t some sick, twisted joke. Had you stretched your self-worth too thin? Were you foolish for thinking Megumi would actually want you?

Megumi says your name so softly you almost didn’t hear it, concern etched on his face and laced in his voice. You ignore him, quickly unlocking your door and sliding inside your apartment, shutting the door in his face.

Megumi stands there, both confused and concerned. Had he come on too strong? Did he waste his one and only chance by scaring you? He reaches out to knock on your door before hesitating. He wanted a second chance, an opportunity to tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scared, but he couldn’t bring himself to press his knuckles onto the wood. He drops his hand and walks away, back to his apartment, feeling like he just ruined everything he could’ve had with you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part three is here

★taglist: @whereflowerswenttodie, @rosieandthethorns (reply to this post if you want to be included in the taglist!)

[keikikait]

ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you and megumi almost had a moment, but is that all it will ever be?

warnings: SMUT! MDNI 18+, full on p in v, protection is implied but not stated, use of the word cock, kinda dom!megumi, slight sub!reader, restraining (with hands), light choking (just for like 2 scenes), SLIGHT edging, use of the nickname slut, reader is kinda dumb (good way), suggestive flirting, jealous megs, slight feelings of self doubt / self deprecation at the beginning (so ig slight angst?), not proofread

a note: might be a small delay before pt. 4 x

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

He should’ve knocked on the fucking door.

Megumi enters his apartment, slamming his fist onto his kitchen counter. He felt like such a coward, he had you in the palm of his hand and he just let you run off. He was certain that you felt the same way, certain that if he kissed you you would grip onto the collar of his t-shirt and enthusiastically kiss him back. Was he wrong? Was he foolish? Was he reading this entire situation so wrong? He felt not good enough, he felt insignificant, something he hadn’t felt since graduating high school and cutting off contact with his father. He used to think he was smart, but you made him feel so naïve. Megumi knew he hadn’t always been nice to you, yelling at you over a fucking motorcycle, but normally he didn’t care what others thought. He would simply ignore them if they didn’t like him, but with you it was different. He wanted you to like him. He wanted you to pay attention to him, he would even take te constant bickering over whatever the hell it was you were currently doing.

Megumi was walking a thin, red line, a line that lead to his future, and he was hoping you would want to walk it with him. His bike gave him a feeling of independence, something he never had before moving out and living on his own. He was in and out of everyone’s life, a flash that was gone in the blink of an eye, but he didn’t feel that way with you. He wanted you to stick around, even in the platonic way, although he had to admit that he wanted to make you his. He wanted to wrap his hand around your throat and kiss you right in front of your friend, make you melt into his arms as you gripped his t-shirt and clinged to him. He wanted to fuck you dumb and leave you a drooling, cum covered mess every night. 

You were avoiding him, again, always getting into that car with that guy and his stupid fucking pink hair. He couldn’t take it anymore. You had said he was your friend, just your friend, but Megumi didn’t believe you. Even if your actions were friendly, Megumi couldn’t guarantee that your friend’s were too. Megumi wanted you, and he wanted you to want him too. He wanted to be your boyfriend, or perhaps even more. He wanted to eventually move out of this apartment complex and find a new, bigger place, but he wanted to it with you.

You, in truth, had been staying over at Yuji’s house a lot the last few days, even just hanging out at his place to pet sit for him while he was at work. It wasn't just a matter of convenience; staying over at his place gave you a sense of comfort and familiarity that you couldn't quite explain. Every once in a while, you would find yourself mindlessly petting Yuji’s boy cat, Sora, as if he would chase away the lingering thoughts of Megumi. In a way, he did, choosing to sleep on your chest on Yuji’s couch, keeping you from touching yourself while you were away.

It wasn't that you were deliberately trying to avoid him. It was more like a natural instinct to create some distance between the two of you. The memory of that night outside your apartment still haunted your mind, and you were struggling to make sense of his confusing actions. You didn’t know his true intentions, and as much as you wanted to believe that he liked you, you couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in the back of your mind that was telling you the opposite. Being with him had been plaguing your mind for the past few weeks, thoughts of him always returning to you at night while you dimmed your lights and slipped your hand between your thighs, but a doubtful part of you was insisting that was all it would ever be; thoughts of Megumi, not Megumi himself.

As you spent more time at Yuji's house, you found yourself drawn to his easygoing nature and genuine kindness. His presence provided a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil you were experiencing, and he seemed to understand your need for space from Megumi and was always there to offer a listening ear without judgment, although he was kind of getting tired about how pretty Megumi is. 

A couple of days later, there was a knock at your door. Your heart skipped a beat. You knew who it was. He stood there, looking nervous and apologetic. He wanted to explain himself, to apologize if he had crossed any lines. He also wanted to know if you were dating that guy, but he thought that part could wait. At least for a little bit.

You open the door, seemingly fresh out of the shower, your hair wet as you carefully dry it. You smelled so good, like berries, and he felt his throat instantly dry up. He was admiring you for a bit too long, you were wearing a t-shirt and short little pyjama shorts that he just wanted to rip off of you - “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?”

You blink, throwing your towel over your shoulder. “Sure.”

“So, um…”  His eyes linger on your shorts and thighs, his gaze passing over your body before he drags his eyes back up to meet yours. He just couldn’t help himself. “Could I come in?” You nod, stepping aside to let him in. He steps inside, making the space feel a lot smaller with his presence. 

You notice he has a faint smile on his lips, and that he keeps staring at you, but for once, it's not with irritation.  “Um, so…” he takes a deep breath. “So you know how we had a bit of a…moment a couple days ago?” Five days, to be exact, not that he was counting or anything.

“Yeah, I remember.” You say.

“Yeah…” his expression changes as he starts to feel more and more nervous. “Well... I just wanted to apologize for making you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have been so forward. It's just-”

“No, Megumi, it’s okay.” You say, interrupting him. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Not at all.”

“What?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “But you ran off…I assumed I had overstepped a boundary. You know, asking the…masturbation question.” He says the last part quietly. 

You suddenly realised how close you two actually were. Your apartment felt incredibly small with just you, and with Megumi there it felt even smaller. Your chests were practically pushed together as you looked up at him. You set the towel down on your desk chair, awkwardly shifting on your feet. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. I just wasn’t expecting the question.”

He nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his zip-up hoodie. “Good. I know we haven’t always gotten along but I’ve never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I can be an asshole a lot of the time, but I’m not…like that, you know?”

You nod. “No, I understand, Megumi. Thank you for apologising.”

He smiles. “Yeah. No problem.” He sighs a little, leaning against the wall. “So can we…start over? Go back to the beginning?”

You chuckle. “You wanna start fighting again?”

He smirks. “Maybe. If it would mean you would pay attention to me again. Don’t think I’ve noticed that you’ve been avoiding me. Again.”

You blush, stuttering as you search for a response. “N-no, it’s not like that-”

Megumi chuckles. “I mean, I get it. I would always yell at you and then asked you what you thought about while you masturbated. I would avoid me too.”

Your blush deepens. “It’s not like that, Megumi.”

He smiles. “I’m glad.” You both sit there in a comfortable silence before he speaks again. “So, can I ask you something?”

You nod. “Sure. Unless it’s what I think about when I’m touching myself.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that,” He clears his throat. “That guy that picks you up and drops you off sometimes. Are you two…dating?”

“Yuji? Pink hair?” He nods and you shake your head in return. “No. I’m just his friend.”

“You promise?” Megumi asks, taking a step towards you. You nod, looking up at him. You looked so cute like that, your eyes all big, practically begging him to get closer. 

He does, taking another step towards you. He reaches out, planting his hands on the sides of your arms, watching your face and body language as he drags his hands down towards your own. Your skin was so soft and smooth, and his hands felt so good on you, rough and calloused from the years of bike maintenance.

You blush, but don’t move away. You gulp, finally finding your voice. “Do you want to know the answer? To the question you asked me a few days ago?”

He feels his cock start to harden, images of you touching yourself filling his mind. “God, yes.”

You bite your lip and he feels his cock throb. “You, Megumi. I’ve been thinking about you.”

He lets out a shaky, deep moan as he grabs your hands, pulling you against his chest. He moves your hands behind your back, his grip tight but loose enough where you could move away if you wanted to. “Yeah? You think about me while you touch yourself? Do you finger yourself or rub that cute little clit of yours?”

You gasp softly, letting him restraining you. “Both.”

He lets out another deep moan of approval, gripping your wrists tighter. He feels his cock harden even more. “God, you’re driving me crazy. I think about you too, baby. I think about you and fucking your cute little mouth everytime I jack off.” Your head spins and you lean against him, unable to think straight. You just simply moan in response, nodding your head.

Megumi grips your wrists tighter, leading you up into your loft, throwing you onto your bed. He climbs on top of you, holding you down. “Is this okay?”

You nod.

“Words, baby.” He says, leaning down to kiss and bite your earlobe. “Use your words.”

Your mouth feels like cotton and you struggle to respond. “Yes, Megumi. It’s okay. Please keep going.”

He chuckles, pressing his hard cock against your thigh as he starts to grind on you. “Good girl. You even know how to say please.” You gasp, your entire body shuddering as your legs drop open. Megumi shifts his hips, slotting his cock right over your clothed pussy, grinding up against it. “You drive me crazy, baby. Every night I hear your pretty little moans through the wall and I just…think about what it would be like to fuck you dumb. To fill you up with my cum over and over, to cum on your little clit and rub it and hear you squeal.” Your mouth drops open and he takes this opportunity to sloppily kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth. Your thoughts are filled with him, just Megumi, the way it should be. He pulls away, a line of spit connecting your mouths and you shake, panting and squirming. He moves one hand to wrap around your throat, and is about to ask if it’s okay when you let out a strangled moan, your eyes threatening to roll back. He chuckles. “Such a good girl.”

Your brain is too foggy, too filled with thoughts of Megumi and the way he feels grinding against your pussy that you can’t speak, reaching your freehand down to pull off your shorts. 

He smirks, squeezing your neck a little bit. “So impatient. You don’t want me to eat you out, baby? You don’t wanna feel my tongue on you?”

You whine, finally pulling your shorts down. “I do, Megs, I do…but if you don’t fuck me I actually might explode.” He laughs at you and it makes your pussy clench. He leans back on his knees to pull your shorts and panties down. He grabs your legs and bends them back, pressing your thighs against your torso. He can’t help himself, leaning down and licking your clit, swirling his tongue in little circles, chuckling to himself as you squirm and grind your pussy on his face. “Megumi!”

He pulls away and laughs again, replacing his tongue with his thumb. “I know, I know. I couldn’t help myself. You look so delicious.” Your impatient whine is cut off when he starts to pull his sweatpants down, taking his boxers with it. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you see his cock. Long, but not too thick, with balls that are practically begging to be drained. He grins at your reaction, rubbing his tip with his thumb. “Is it big?”

You nod, your mouth going dry again. “Really big, Megs. Might not fit inside me.”

He tuts at you, grabbing his cock at the base and rubbing the tip against your clit. “Nah. You can take it. And if you can’t, I’ll just have to stretch you out with my fingers and make you cum a few times.”

He suddenly slides in all the way to the hilt, leaning over you and gripping your hair at the root, groaning into your ear about how good you feel. He gives you a few seconds to adjust, kissing the side of your head affectionately. You can practically feel him in your throat, your eyes threatening to roll back into your skull.

Megumi starts thrusting, one hand remaining in your hair and the other going down so his thumb can rub your clit in gentle circles. He’s saying something but you can’t hear him, too full of him to pay attention, but he doesn’t mind at all. He likes how quickly he can turn your mind to mush, how quickly you submit to him. He never wants to let you go after this.

You wrap your legs around his waist as his thrusts pick up, digging your heels into the small of his back. You wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes glazed over as you moan his name over and over. Your pussy clenches and he nearly cums, burying his face in your neck, biting at the skin to keep himself from busting too soon. 

It’s your turn to grip his hair at the root, your pussy clenching around him again as he rubs your clit at a delicious angle. Your whole body shudders and you arch your back into him. “Megumi!”

“Not yet,” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. “Not yet, you little slut. You need my permission. You can hold on a bit longer, can’t you?” You nod, biting your lip as you will yourself to focus on not cumming. You could do it easily, but Megumi was having a hard time holding out himself. The way you felt around him, all tight and wet, and the way you bit your lip was driving him crazy, not to mention the way you were following all of his orders so perfectly. You really wanted to please him, didn’t you? Megumi can only hold out for a little bit longer before rubbing your clit harder, biting your neck to keep himself from utterly loosing control. “Come on, baby. Cum for me. You can do it. You’re such a good girl…”

And you are, cumming exactly when he tells you to, your hips bucking into his as he talks you through your orgasm. You look so cute coming undone around him, your eyes watering, lips pouty as you moan his name like a prayer. You bury your face in his chest, breathing heavily.

“Thank you.” You say, and Megumi decides right then and there that he’s keeping you.

Megumi grins, stroking your hair. “You’re welcome, baby.” He kisses your forehead, looking down at you adoringly as you curl up against his chest.

You’re all his now.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think my lovelies!

★taglist: @whereflowerswenttodie, @rosieandthethorns, @sillygoose3082, @byebibyemia, @ichorstainedskin, @myeeym, @peach-filth, @aockskcw, @phoenixmoxxileigh, @gojussybussylover (reply to this post if you want to be included in the taglist! italics mean i couldn't tag you!)

[keikikait]

ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 2 of my previous fic, which you can find here

for my other gojo smut, click here!

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.5k

summary: you’re home from your teacher retreat to nikko, ready for the new term. what you’re not ready for? gojo to come home to you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) SMUT - 18+ ONLY! MDNI, dom!gojo and sub!reader, protected sex (pill, not mentioned but its there) degrading (he uses the word slut), hair pulling, nipple play, spitplay (bye….), light edging, finger/thumb sucking (don’t look at me), use of the words [cock, cunt, and tits], slight oral (f receiving), a bit of angst & a bit of mean gojo, nickname use [baby, pretty girl, doll], no use of y/n

a note: i know i said this would be out next week but it was my day off so i wrote it all today. this is less angst, more smut, but i can’t help myself so there is some angst. also, im sorry i made gojo such an asshole, i promise that he will get better! part 3 will be out soon my loves.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your eyes are already open when your alarm goes off. 

You didn’t sleep at all. There was no point, even after you finished crying your head hurt too much to sleep, even with some painkillers. You laid there, wide awake all night thinking about Gojo. Did he think of you, too? You turn the alarm off and slide out of bed, your slipper-covered feet shuffling as you make your way around your apartment. 

You brush your teeth and look in the mirror. Your eyes are puffy and swollen, mascara smeared down your cheeks. You pop some spoons in the freezer to cool as you clean yourself up and get dressed. Your phone sits untouched on the bedside table, still plugged in.

You sit on the side of your bed, pressing the now cold spoons against your swollen eyes. You take deep breaths, trying to relax. You had every right to be upset, after all. Gojo has no reason to string you along, whispering sweet nothings in your ear at night about how you’re his girl, his doll, his everything. But that’s exactly what that was. Nothing. Maybe, you think, this is some kind of karma. Some sort of punishment for your arrogance, for thinking you could have what everyone else wants, Gojo, and here—at last—it was.

You put on some de-puffing undereye patches that you keep in the fridge and clean your entire apartment spotless to distract yourself, music blasting from the phone in your back pocket. You finally throw out that dead fern you got as a gift from the school board when you first started, and you finally clean out your fridge of the now moldy condiments you tried once on a whim. You’re washing dishes when the front door opens and, suddenly, Gojo steps inside. He had opted for his dark blue circular sunglasses today, an odd choice for the winter but you didn’t mind it. “Hi,” you say, surprised, pulling off the bright marigold gloves and setting them on the side of the sink to dry. For a second, you think about the absolute state of your eyes. The swelling and puffiness had gone down, and even though he had never seen you cry, you think about the fact that even if he noticed your eyes he wouldn’t care enough to ask questions.

“Hey,” is all Gojo says in response. You wait to see if he says anything else, or if he is going to try to explain himself, but he doesn’t, and eventually moves across your apartment to head to the bathroom. You hesitate before you make your way after him, passing his duffel bag on the floor of your closet, which was unzipped and filled with enough clothes that it was clear that he was going to stay for a while.

You feel pathetic admitting it to yourself but having Gojo there — not just in your apartment, but in your room — feels nice. He doesn’t speak to you yet, but his very presence steadies and refocuses you. As grateful as you are that he came back to you, you are also a little disappointed in yourself, by how dependent you are, how weak. Who were you without him?

Eventually, he faces you, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Hey, pretty girl.”

You swallow hard, willing yourself to be strong, to finally confront him about all of the false promises and the date with Himiko, but you can’t. Not yet. “Hi, Gojo.”

He smiles, reaching you with just one step and collecting you in his arms, wrapping them tightly around your hips. He leans down and kisses you, for the first time in almost nine days, and you feel yourself giving up, giving all power to him.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, smirking. “I missed you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home last night…I got carried away.”

You’ve noticed over the past eleven months (yes, you kept track) of your situationship that he uses that term a lot; carried away. He uses it when he gets a little too handsy during the free periods at work and when he stares at you a bit too long during staff meetings. He uses it when he forgets to call or text you and when it seems like you’re the last thing on his mind. Maybe you are. 

You smile, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He grins, gently running his hands up your back, lightly scratching his nails against you, making you shiver. “Of course. I always come back home to you.” He bends at the knees and picks you up, carrying you the short distance to your bed before laying you down and climbing on top of you. Excitement fills your body as he leans down and starts placing soft kisses along your neck. You arch into him, whining and tugging on his sleeves, and he chuckles. “Relax, doll. Quit acting so desperate. You’re not in charge here, remember?”

You feel drool pool in your mouth and you quickly swallow it. “I’m sorry, Gojo, it’s just that —”

He interrupts you, sliding his thumb into your mouth to shut you up. “I know, baby, I know. You went eight whole days without my touch and now you’re acting like a desperate little slut,” You nod, hoping he won’t tease you this time. He smirks at the dumb look on your face before saying, “Open.” You do, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out a little. He pulls his thumb away and draws back briefly before spitting into your open mouth. You swallow it without his command. You know what he likes.

He grins, kissing your lips once more before kissing down your chin and neck, slowly sliding off your t-shirt. You whine and squirm under him, and after he pulls your shirt off he clamps his hand over your mouth. “Shut up. If you keep whining, I won’t fuck you at all. Is that what you want?” You shake your head vigorously, that’s the last thing you want. He removes his hand before continuing, “Good. Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” You nod, relaxing into your sheets as he kisses down your chest. He pushes your bra up over your tits, groaning as he squeezes them in his hands. “Fuck. I missed my girls.” You would normally scold him for objectifying you, but at this moment you didn’t care. You wanted his hands on you, and you wanted his dick inside of you as soon as possible.

He takes the sunglasses off and brings one of your nipples to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips against it to tease you. He sticks his tongue out and drags it along your nipple in circles, loving the way your thighs fall open and the little sounds you make. He finally, finally sucks your nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one hard just to feel you squirm. He rolls your bare nipple between his fingers while he lightly nibbles on the one in his mouth. Your head is spinning, and all you can do is tug on his hair as he teases you. He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting it to his lips. He picks it up on his finger and rubs it on your face just to humiliate you.

He kisses down your torso, tugging down your pyjama bottoms and tossing them onto the floor. He kisses your thighs as he pushes them up and against your chest so you’re nice and spread out for him, just as he likes. He notices the wet spot on your plain blue cotton underwear and smirks, rubbing at it with his thumb. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?”

You take it you can respond to him now. “Fuck, Gojo, please! Please stop teasing me, I already went eight days without you.” The whine in your voice makes him feel so big, so powerful. He barely touches you and you’re already crumbling at his feet. Maybe he should keep you there.

He makes that condescending tsk tsk tsk sound that normally annoys you, but now you can’t help it and you whine and squirm even more. “You’re so desperate, baby. You can’t even handle a little teasing?” He presses his thumb right against your clit, the wet spot spreads even more. “I guess you do have a point, though. I haven’t made you cum since we left for Nikko.” He kisses right above the hem of your underwear before pulling it down, the blue fabric now dangling around your ankle. He moans, pushing your legs back even further and spreading your cunt. 

He spits directly onto your pink little hole, watching as it mixes with your juices. In this moment, you’re his. You’re his everything, his girl, his doll. In this moment you actually mean something to him, when you’re spread out and begging for his attention. He runs his pointer finger down your slit, collecting some spit before dragging it back up to your clit and lightly circling it.

You almost cum on the spot. Days of pent-up horniness and teasing and you’re as sensitive as ever. You bite your lip, looking over at him with nothing but love and affection in your gaze. “Please, Gojo. Please don’t tease me. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

He gets comfortable, moving your thighs over his shoulders as he lays down on the bed. “You’ll take what I give you. Don’t disappoint me.” He circles your clit with his finger one last time before leaning down and sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back, your hands finding solace in his hair as you writhe and moan. He moans at your taste, gripping your hips hard as he gets lost in your cute little cunt. You grind against his face, and he lets you, loving the feeling of your clit against his tongue. He teases your hole with his fingers, sliding his thumb in as he swirls his tongue around your clit in circles. You clench up tight, mumbling praises along with I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum! before he pulls away completely. He laughs at the noise you make, and at the way your face contorts and tears well in your eyes. He slaps the inside of your thigh before standing up and unbuttoning his pants. “Oh, come on. Be a good girl for me, okay?”

You move up on the bed, your back supported by your pillows as he climbs over you. You’ve seen his dick a lot, more times than you can count, but the sheer size of it always surprises you. Thick and long, slightly curved to the left, with a pretty pink tip to match. His balls are big, too, full of cum and practically begging to be in your mouth, which waters as soon as you see it. 

Gojo looms over you, pushing you onto the bed as he slides in between your legs and gets comfortable. He rubs his tip against you, getting it nice and wet so you don’t struggle with the size as he fucks you, at least not too much. In a moment of pure intimacy, he reaches his hand up and rubs his thumb against your cheek, looking at you with an almost adoring gaze. You go to say something to him but all words escape your throat as he pushes his cock into you. You both moan in unison as he slides in and out slowly.

“God,” he groans, leaning down on his elbows and getting right in your face. “I missed you so much, baby. I know I’m such a dick to you, I just can’t help it, you look so cute when you’re angry…fuck, you feel so good.” He isn’t vocal in bed very often, and your heart swells as you get to watch him come undone and make such pretty noises as he does. 

In the heat of the moment, you forgive him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you can’t stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him. Your smile is cut short by your moan as you manage to say, “It’s okay, Gojo. Please just stay here. Stay here with me.”

Gojo nods, propping himself up on one flat palm as his hips pick up speed. Normally he loves foreplay, he can tease you and edge you for hours, but the time spent without you in his arms and without you wrapped around his cock was too much to bare for him. He knows he fucked up, but he can’t take it back. He’s Satoru Gojo, and he has a reputation he needs to uphold. He’s all run, and you’re all fight, and that’s part of the reason why he feels so drawn to you.

He looks at you, moving to his elbows and reaching up to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, biting his lip as his hips move even faster. He drops back down to his elbows, your chests pressed together as he shakily moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll, I’m gonna cum.”

You nod, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as you cum around him, clenching down on his cock. He buries his face in your neck as he cums after you, cumming inside of you, like he always does. His breathing is ragged as he lays there, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum spills inside. Gojo eventually moves away from your neck, some of his hair matted to his forehead, slick with sweat. You push the hair back and smile at him, kissing his forehead gently. Even if he didn’t love you, you still loved him. And you think you always will.

He pulls out, immediately getting you a towel splashed with some warm water as he cleans you up. He’s gentle with his aftercare, making sure you’re comfortable, and collecting your water bottle from the living room. You pee before getting dressed, laying with him on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing your face into his chest, and sliding his hand into your hair. He holds you there for a while, your breathing in sync before he leans down and kisses your forehead. 

Gojo puts on a cooking show to watch on your TV, setting the remote aside as he holds you close. He strokes your hair, and your mind starts to drift, and you wonder if he cares about you in the same way you care about him. Are you not good enough for him? Is there something wrong with you? Are you not what he wants? Are you not what he needs? You wake up every morning, hopeful for what’s to come with him, but you spend most of your time thinking about what you’ve already had and what he’s already said to you. You’re missing all these memories—maybe they were never even yours. 

Nothing hurts like he does.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part 3 is here

[keikikait]

ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

for my other megumi fic, click here (warning - smut!)

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2k

summary: you love your new apartment, as small as it is. it's in the perfect place, right next to the train station, and is cheap as hell. the only downside? your neighbour, who revs his bike outside your window every morning.

warnings: NO SMUT!, no angst!, multi part series, kind of enemies to lovers, slowburn?, megumi is kinda rude lmaoooo, the girls are fighting!, he says sweetheart twice, reader is kinda down bad lmao

a note: sorry for the delay, i've been busy with work! also, 8 square metres is about 86 square feet :).

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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The rent was cheap. Suspiciously cheap. 

You should’ve been wary, but you didn’t have many options. After a bitter fallout with your roommate, you needed to move out quickly. You should’ve paid more attention to the listing, you realise, as you stop in front of the building and it sinks in that your new digs weren’t 18 square metres.

It was eight square metres. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have much furniture with you, needing to sell it all to afford the move. Your apartment was essentially one long, two-story hallway, just enough for your desk chair and TV. 

You get settled in quickly, trying to liven up the place by replanting your herb garden outside on your small porch. The apartment doors faced an alley, and on the other side of the alley was another apartment building. You didn’t know how much sunlight your basil would get, but that’s a problem for future you.

A problem for the current you, however, was your neighbour's motorcycle. The bike is an exact replica of the legendary Honda Super Cub that was used in the original anime Akira, and as pretty as it is, that shit is loud. His apartment is right on the edge by the sidewalk, meaning the only place he can park it is right in front of your window.

You’ve tried everything. Earplugs. Noise-cancelling headphones. Ear plugs under your noise-cancelling headphones. Sleeping with a white noise machine. Nothing works. You only moved in a month ago but you’re already sick of this mysterious man and his bike. You don’t run into each other often, catching glimpses of him as he drives off in the morning and comes home at night. You didn’t want to be that neighbour, the one that complains about every single little thing, but it was driving you mad. He revs his bike so loudly and for so long, that you’re starting to think he’s doing it on purpose.

You wake up that fateful morning and decide you’ve had enough. You wait for him to return home, hyping yourself up in the mirror before heading outside to confront him. You idle nervously in front of his front door for a few seconds before knocking. 

He answers, looking exhausted, his hair a mess from his helmet. “Yeah?” You have to admit, he’s pretty cute. Tall and lean, with bicep muscles that strain against the fabric of his black t-shirt. And you swear you can see some eyeliner smudged on his water line.

You smile, trying to come across as calm and casual, slightly flustered by how attractive he is. “Hey. I’m your new next-door neighbour,” You gesture with your thumb. “I don’t wanna be that person, but would it be possible for you to not rev your engine so loud in the morning? It’s just…it’s right by my window, and it’s really loud.”

He lets out a sigh of frustration, not exactly in the mood for what you're throwing at him. It was already 9 pm on the third day in a row that he had worked the late shift, and this was not something he needed right now. He looks at you, his expression a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Look, I'm not doing it on purpose. I park where I park, nothing is going to change that. You just moved in, this is how it's been and how it's always going to be.”

You blink, a little taken aback by how rude he was being. “I understand that, but surely I'm not the only person in the building who gets inconvenienced by your bike.”

He crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing. The last thing he wants to do after a long shift is argue with someone about something as insignificant as noise. “Look, if you don't like it, then move out. I don't see anybody else complaining. You're the only one.”

You clench your jaw. You had some experience with bikes, your ex-boyfriend being a mechanic. You knew it was possible to make the revving quieter, it just seems like he didn’t care. “Can’t you just buy a muffler silencer?”

He lets out a short, sharp laugh, one that doesn't hold a single trace of humor.  “A muffler silencer? For a Super Cub? Are you serious? That would be like asking a Ferrari to be quiet.”

“You can’t expect everyone to just be okay with how loud your bike is, man.” You say. “I’m sure it inconveniences everyone in the building, but no one wants to be the person that confronts you.”

He seems to be holding back from saying what he wants to say, taking a shallow breath. “Look. It's my bike. I can do whatever I want with it. No one else is bothered, so why should you be any different? Why do you care so much?”

“You’re not the only person who works early mornings.” You say. “You aren’t the only person in the world, you know.”

That strikes a nerve, clearly, but he still doesn't seem interested in hearing what you're saying. He just rolls his eyes, looking away at his bike for a moment before looking back at you. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but in case you haven't realised, you're not that important.”

“Neither are you.” You say impulsively. It was mean, and you didn’t like being mean, but he wasn’t giving you any other option.

He glares at you, his expression darkening. It's only for a moment, but you can see there is actual vitriol in his eyes. “Look, I'm going to make this simple for you. If you don't like the noise, then move out. That bike is not going anywhere. It has more meaning to me than you'll ever understand.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Akira meant so much to you as a kid,” You say sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t keep doing this, man. Buy a muffler silencer.” 

He laughs, but there's a slight tinge of bitterness to it. “Oh, so it's just a cartoon to you? It’s not an influential masterpiece that changed motorcycle and animation culture forever? Okay, great. Good to know.” He is starting to get worked up, but then he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. “Look, like I said, I am not doing anything to this bike. Not the mufflers, nothing.”

“Then park it somewhere else.” You snap. “Keep it away from my window. I don’t want to hear that shit.”

There's a flash of annoyance on his face. “There's no place to park it away from your window unless I block the sidewalk, which I guarantee you would cause more inconvenience. You're just going to have to deal with it.”

“Are you always this rude and stuck up?” The question stumbles out of your mouth before your mind can process it.

His temper flares up. He takes a step towards you, putting his hands on his hips as he glares at you. “Are you always this entitled and self-absorbed?”

You take a step back. You hate to admit it, but the way he towers over you is arousing. His cologne fills your nostrils and you find yourself getting lightheaded. It was slightly spicy, with a hint of vanilla and coffee. 

You ground yourself, swallowing hard. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you. I just want us to come to a reasonable compromise.”

He glares at you, his eyes boring into you as you step back. You can feel the heat on your skin as if every drop of sweat in his body has been activated by the situation. His cologne is overwhelming you, filling your whole body. “There is no compromise to make here. You don't like the noise, tough. You're just going to have to get used to it or move out. That's it.”

Your eye twitches. “You’re such an asshole.” At this point, you didn’t feel bad being mean to him. He kind of deserved it.

He laughs, seeming almost amused by your temper. “You're one to talk. You come barging up to my apartment, demanding I make changes to my bike, and then you get mad at me when I tell you not to waste your time. Look in the mirror, sweetheart, and then come back with the right to tell me I'm an asshole.”

Fuck. You shouldn’t like the way he says sweetheart, but it causes your throat to dry up. “I tried to be nice to you,” You say. “You’re the one that got defensive and rude.”

“Nice? Maybe in your little dreamland that's what you think you were doing. Maybe you even believe that you were just being friendly and reasonable, I don't know. But in reality, all you were doing was pissing me off and acting like some sort of entitled princess.” He takes a step closer to you, his finger pointed in your face. “But one thing is certain. I’m not changing anything about my bike just to make you happy.”

He’s so close to you that it makes your head spin. You step back again, leaning against the railing surrounding his small porch. “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t blame me for being upset.”

He doesn't seem interested in letting you off the hook yet, not when he looks so close to snapping. “It doesn't matter if you're upset or not. You don't get what you want by coming here and giving me an attitude like a fucking brat.”

You swallow hard. Fuck. You shouldn’t be attracted to this man, he was rude as hell and didn’t seem to care that he was inconveniencing not only you but everyone in the building. But you couldn’t help yourself. He was so pretty, and he smelled so good, and his voice was so nice. You were going to have to change your panties when you got back home. 

You stand up straight, trying to stay headstrong. “You’re being incredibly rude about this.”

“And you're being incredibly entitled. There's only one of us that needs to change here, and it's not me.” He narrows his eyes, his gaze still burning into you.

You lick your lips. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere by arguing.”

He gives another one of those short, sharp laughs. He smiles, and it makes your stomach flip. “You finally said something smart. I didn’t know it was so difficult for you. Now, are you ready to accept that you're not going to get what you want, or do you want to keep wasting my time?”

Your eyes narrow. What the fuck? “Excuse me? Did you just call me dumb?”

A smirk spreads across his lips. “You heard me. Or did you need me to repeat it for you?”

You let out a sharp laugh, moving off of his porch. “You know what? Fuck you.”

He raises his eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. “Oh, so you've switched from demanding to insults? Real mature, aren't you?”

You head over to your apartment, laughing again. “I should’ve known trying to reason with you would be impossible.” 

He calls after you. “You're damn right it's impossible. You come here, make some demands, and then get mad when I tell you no. You're a spoiled brat who always gets her way, aren't you? Well, today's a bad day for you, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck you.” You say, holding the door to your apartment open. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” He says, smirking slightly. “I’m not into brats like you. I think you need to be taken down a few pegs. You need someone to put you in your place.”

You scoff and flip him off before slamming the door behind you, and just like that, you have given up. 

He leans against his door, crossing his arms and smiling as he watches you leave, his eyes on your ass. He’s just a tiny bit disappointed that you gave up so quickly. He's got to admit, it was pretty fun messing with you, watching how angry you get. He thought you looked cute like that, your cheeks all red and flustered.

Maybe next time…

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part two is here

dedicated to the lovely @whereflowerswenttodie

[keikikait]

ᴋɴᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ (ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ)

this is the epilogue to my strangers story, which you can find on my masterlist

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 1.4k

summary: after your fight with gojo, he goes to your apartment to explain himself

warnings: TW: DEATH, talk of stalking, angst??????

a note: this is the epilogue

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch I would fall in love with you faster.”

“Fine. Go with him. See if I fucking care. You’ll come crawling back to me after you realise he isn’t any different.”

Ever since you left him, and slammed the door in his face, Gojo hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

Gojo contemplated reaching out to you. To talk to you at work instead of just ignoring you, but he can’t do it. He wants you to grovel, to beg on your knees for his forgiveness, to admit you need him to protect you. Soon enough, he realised that you weren’t coming back. You were moving on and with Nanami of all people? You were supposed to be his, the toy he abandoned when he got bored. He was always content knowing that you’d always be on the top shelf when he wanted you again, free from the reach of any other man.

Gojo's heart, a tempest of turbulent feelings, refused to relinquish its claim on you. You were his, not Nanami’s. He felt something rising within him, a possessive urge to get you back, whether you liked it or not. Yet, the ache of unreciprocated longing gnawed at his resolve, leaving him suspended in a realm of uncertainty. He decided, after a while, to begin following you.

You never noticed him. You didn’t look around much. You felt safe walking alone through the streets of Tokyo, never turning around to see if anyone was following you. You were naïve, just how he liked you. Part of him knew this was wrong, to stalk his ex and peep into her windows when she wasn’t looking, but he was just protecting you! What if you got hurt? What if Nanami decided to hurt you? You were nothing without him, you couldn’t stand up for yourself. You needed Gojo, and he needed you.

He watched from the shadows as Nanami rejected you, claiming you weren’t girlfriend material. Gojo agreed, to an extent, but it did break his heart to watch you cry as you made your way home. He was so focused on Nanami, on the way he casually went back to eating as if you never existed, that he didn’t follow you home while you cried. You were vulnerable, and he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to start walking after you.

Gojo almost confronted Nanami. Almost. He thought it over and realised how hypocritical he would sound. He was angry at Nanami for rejecting you, yet he did the same thing. Gojo held your heart in his hands, promising he would take care of it, only to squish it under his boots when you pissed him off. He didn’t want you, not in the way you wanted him, but he hated to think about you with somebody else.

He grounded himself and began the walk to your apartment. Gojo was, although he would never admit it, miserable without you. He missed his baby, his girl, his doll, the one who would greet him eagerly in the evenings with a homecooked meal and a kiss. He missed holding you in his arms as you watched a cooking show, he missed the peaceful look on your face as you fell asleep in his arms.

Did he love you? Or did he love the idea of you in his head?

Emotions surged through Gojo’s body, filling him to the brim with a turbulent mix of longing and resentment. Suguru’s treachery had left him feeling broken and discarded, left behind to rot, and after that day he vowed to never love again. Love breeds hope, and hope breeds eternal misery. He started to resent himself, after all, he was the reason Suguru would never come back home. Gojo didn’t sleep for months after Suguru left. He waited up for him, hoping Suguru would come back and apologise, but he never did. He was so alone without Suguru, and he was so alone without you, too.

As Gojo nears your apartment building, he starts to realise that he and Suguru were always alike. They both abandoned someone they cared about, and Gojo wondered if Suguru felt as guilty as he did. Did Suguru miss him? Did Suguru ever love him the way you do?

He enters the code into the gate, pushes the door open, and walks up the stairs towards your apartment. He didn’t know what he was going to say to you. He couldn’t profess his love, it didn’t feel right, but maybe if he lied to you, you would stay. Maybe if he lied and told you he loved you, you would be naïve and gullible enough to believe him. 

He makes it up the last flight of stairs, heading down the long corridor. For the first time in a long time, he feels anxiety. He wants you to stay with him. He needs you. Did you need him anymore? He feels so powerless and weak, and he hates it. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should just move on and find another girl to toy with, but he couldn’t. Gojo, deep down, wished you two had never even met, because he was having a hard time forgetting and moving on. Or did he get you confused with Suguru? If Suguru hadn’t broken his heart, would he love you?

He turns the corner and stops in his tracks.

Your door is wide open.

Gojo knew you weren’t stupid enough to leave your door open. You were naïve, yes, but you weren’t dumb. He steps closer, and suddenly, all at once, his world comes crashing down.

You’re lying there, in your doorway, surrounded by a pool of your own blood. Your throat is slashed, practically ripped out, with claw marks decorating your legs, arms, and torso, as if you were mauled by wolves. 

For the first time since his fateful encounter with Suguru, Gojo cries. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, he drops to his knees, desperately reaching out to grasp you. With trembling hands, he pulls you close to his chest, clinging to the faint hope that somehow, against all odds, you might still be alive. He pushes your hair away from your face, matted with blood, and he cups your cheeks, shouting at you to wake up. To be his again.

He grabs you, holding you close, and notices that your heart is missing, ripped out of your chest, a gaping hole in its wake. 

As he holds you in his arms, fingers stained with the crimson hue of blood, fear grips his heart, a visceral reminder of the fragility of life. He holds your head up gently, terrified that if he were to let go, it would slip away and tumble off of your shoulders. His silent cries reverberate through the air, echoing the profound loss and longing that consumes him. The mere act of holding you close becomes an act of defiance against fate, a desperate attempt to defy the cruel hand that has torn you apart.

He pulls out his phone, his hands shaking as he dials 119, blood smearing on his phone and causing it to almost slip from his grasp. He holds the phone to his ear as he looks down at you, surrounded by blood, yet still so beautiful. You look almost at peace, as if in your final moments you were content with dying. Did you think of him in your final moments? 

As his gaze followed the widening circle of blood, he noticed something else in the periphery of his vision. It was a familiar sight, something akin to Megumi's Shikigami, its form wavering and shifting, almost as if it were made of smoke. It circled you, its ethereal eyes seeming to study your body intently.

In the haunting darkness, the wolves that had stalked your every step, their taunts echoing like eerie whispers, were cursed spirits, bound to the shadows. And Gojo, in all of his strength and power, had kept them at bay for so long. His mere presence was strong enough to protect you from the darkness that sought to consume you.

As he dialed another number, Nanami’s, he was certain now, he had fallen in love with you. He didn’t want to admit it then, he was too scared to fall in love, he didn’t want you to abandon him, to toss him aside as effortlessly as Suguru did. He had spent so long thinking that his fate was bound to Suguru, intertwined in the stars, that he didn't think about how he was treating you, stringing you along as he waited for Suguru to return to him.

He was so caught up in how he had failed Suguru that he didn't realise he had failed you, too.

Nanami answers the phone after the third ring, and as Gojo fumbles to get the words out, he realises he isn't the strongest after all.

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★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted, @mystarlightswiftt, @kaizestar (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

[keikikait]

ᴄᴀꜱᴜᴀʟ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (not au, reader is early to mid 20's)

word count: 2.3k

summary: you're gojo's safe space after long, hard battles.

warnings: angsty (ish), gojo plays with the reader's emotions, reader is naïve, suggestive but no outright smut, not proofread

a note: will i ever write gojo normally?

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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Everything is a routine with him.

From how he gets ready, to how he goes to work, he has a strict and set routine. He needs order, he needs to be in control because if he isn’t in control he fails. He becomes weak. Vulnerable.

You’re no exception to his need for control. He comes to you after every fight, unscathed but angry, stressed, and exhausted. And he expects you to be right where he left you, waiting for him.  You never know when he’ll show up, expecting your open arms and a warm bed. You sometimes stay up all night, waiting by the door, getting up to check out the peephole over and over again, because maybe in the last 5 seconds, he appeared outside your front door. You would sometimes sleep in the genkan, curled up in a ball leaning against your shoe closet, just in case.

Satoru would knock three times before barging into your apartment if you didn’t open the door fast enough. He didn’t have a key, he didn’t want one, and you had replaced your front door too many times now. He wouldn’t speak, just push himself into your apartment, and pin you to the wall. He would kiss you sometimes if you were good and if you begged enough. He didn’t like kissing, to him it was a form of attachment. He would never get attached to you, and you knew this. You weren’t Geto. You never had a chance to be with him. It was just casual, with no attachments. 

You always held him after a fight. He would bury his face in your neck, clinging to you, his legs trapping your body against his chest as he relaxed in your embrace. You were his safe space after dealing with work, fighting curses, anything. You were his in these gentle moments, sitting in silence, rubbing his back while a TV show played in the background, hoping that this time he would say something to you, anything. He never did. It drove you crazy, your thoughts of self-doubt eating you alive, wondering if you were good enough at all. You felt like a piece of meat he would cut chunks off of before shoving you back into the depths of the freezer. Gojo was using you; holding you close and breathing in the scent of the perfume he bought you before escalating the situation, melting you with soft kisses and little whispers, and before you knew it he was buried inside of you to the hilt. You would make love in your bedroom all night. It was euphoric in some strange way. He would cum inside before standing up and redressing, not even bothering to throw you a towel. He was so casual, smirking down at you before giving you a pat on the cheek and leaving your apartment, and then your routine would start all over again.

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You had spent your evening preparing for his arrival. You knew he was fighting something, someone, but you didn’t know who. You decided to call him, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder as you tidied up your bedroom, putting all of your clothes into your hamper. He didn’t answer. He never does. You started to wonder why you even had his number in the first place. You forget about it, setting your phone aside as you continue to clean. You almost went to bed this time. You wipe your hands on a dishtowel, walking past the genkan when you hear three, hard knocks on your front door. You quickly spin on your heel, unlocking the door and pulling it open right before Gojo decides to start kicking it in.

Your eyes land on him. You can tell he’s already furious the moment he crosses the threshold, his gaze sharp and intent. Gojo walks farther into your apartment while you slam the door shut, your eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. You can see him swallow hard, a tic appearing on his neck as the tension in his body is almost palpable. The two of you stand a safe distance away from each other, both unsure of what to say. “Why did you call,” he finally asks, his voice cold and formal.

“I wanted to know if you were coming over,” You say softly, almost a whisper.

Gojo looks away, his eyes traveling over the room and then back to you. When he speaks again, there’s a new edge to his tone. “Did you think it was a good idea to interrupt a fight with a hundred-year-old curse?” he asks, sounding amused. Your eyes widen as you realize the implications of that statement. “You distracted me. I lost focus. I almost got the kids killed. Do you know what you’ve done?”

You flinch, your eyes retreating downward. “I didn’t know--”

“You didn’t know?” Gojo says, a hint of irritation now creeping in. “Do you understand what would’ve happened if I lost focus for even a second?” You shake your head, trying to explain that you didn’t mean to call him but he cuts you off before you can get a word in. “You’re a distraction,” he says, the anger clear in his voice. “You’ve always been a distraction.”

“Gojo, I’m sorry,” You say softly, stepping closer to him. “I didn’t mean to.”

He steps away immediately, not letting you get any closer to him. “I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, but there’s no sympathy in his voice. “I never think you mean to when you do things like this, but the fact of the matter is, you always do.” His voice is cold, and you can feel the anger radiating off of him.

After a beat, you speak, “I’m sorry.”

Gojo doesn’t reply immediately. He just stares at you, the anger still burning inside of him. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks again. “I don’t want your apologies,” he says, his tone even colder now. “I don’t need your apologies.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you step closer, “Gojo-”

"Don't." The way Gojo says this one word is like a slap to the face, the way it stops you in your tracks. You freeze, your feet frozen in place as you look at him. A flicker of hurt flashes across his face, but it's gone just as soon as it came, replaced by the coldness and anger again. “Don’t come closer.” He takes a breath, trying to calm down and collect his thoughts. “I want you to understand something,” he says, his voice more even now. “Don’t call me. Ever again. Okay?”

You nod, stepping back.

"And don’t come to my place, either,” he continues, "unless I ask you to. Because every time you show up uninvited...I end up losing focus...and I can't let that happen. Not anymore." His voice is cold and formal like he's giving you instructions rather than making a request. But there's also something else behind that coldness, something that hurts just as much. Does he not want you around anymore? Is he sick of you?

He stares at you for a second before gathering you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. You freeze up. You can feel the beat of his heart against your body as he holds you to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You try to breathe normally, but the air feels strained and shaky, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Gojo doesn't say anything else, just holds you in silence for a moment before placing his head against your neck. He relaxes his grip, but his arms are still around you as if he's afraid to let you go.

You hesitantly reach out and rub his back. Gojo exhales slowly, and you can feel his muscles slowly begin to loosen under your touch. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, more gentle, though there's still an edge to it. "I just need you to know," he says, sounding more vulnerable than you've ever heard him before, "that I care about you. I really do. But..." He trails off, seeming at a loss for words.

“But?” You urge him to finish his sentence.

Gojo sighs, running his fingers through your hair. "But I can't...I can't afford to care about you. Not in the way you want me to," he confesses, sounding pained as he says these words. "Not anymore. Not at the expense of my duty."

You gulp. “We’re just casual, Gojo. You know that.”

His arms tense around you for a moment, and he closes his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know."

"Care about me in your own way," You say, lightly dragging your fingernails down his back.

His breath catches in his throat, and the muscles in his neck tense as you run your nails down his back. He sucks in a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed. "That isn't the issue," he says quietly, his voice unsteady.

“Then what is?” You ask.

Gojo pauses, as if he's trying to collect himself. "The thing is...I care about you too much," he confesses, the words coming out in a rush. "I care about you too much, and I can't allow myself to do that."

“What do you mean?” You ask, although you have an idea as to why he’s feeling this way.

Gojo is quiet for a moment, as if he's choosing his words carefully. "You know that...being in a relationship isn't in the cards for me, right?"

You nod. You’ve heard the tales of Suguru Geto, and you know that he’s truly only ever been the person for Gojo. As hard as you try, and as perfect as you are, you’ll never be Geto. You’ll never mean as much to him as Geto did.

"So, then you know that I can't let myself care too much about you," he continues, his voice steady now. "I can't let myself feel too much. Because if I do, that's when I start to lose focus...when I start to lose myself...and I can't risk that."

You bite your tongue to keep the tears at bay. You always knew this was coming, the day when he started to doubt your relationship, doubt you. He was chewing you up and spitting you out like you were a piece of dried octopus. You had never considered yourself tough. Were you enough for him? Or were you just a stupid, naïve girl for expecting the strongest sorcerer of all to fall for you? 

You finally find your voice. "Then don't. It's casual. We're just...friends with benefits. No attachments."

Gojo gives a small laugh, even though there's no humor in it. "Is that right?" he says softly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Then why do you keep calling me? Why did you call me in the middle of a fight, hmm?"

There’s the Gojo you know; condescending. “You know that was an accident.” You whisper.

"Was it?" Gojo asks, his voice still soft but there's an underlying edge to it now. His grip tightens on you. "Or were you trying to get my attention? To distract me?"

“No, I wasn’t trying to distract you.” You say, desperation lacing your voice. “I swear.”

Gojo's eyes narrow, and you can feel his body tense around you as he stares at you. "Prove it," he says simply. "Prove to me that you don't want my attention."

You hesitate, knowing you can’t prove him wrong. You want his attention, you want him to come home to you every night. You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Exactly,” Gojo says, the quiet satisfaction in his voice making your blood run cold. “It's in your nature to want to distract me. To want to take my attention away from my duties.” You can feel his grip tighten around you. “You said we were just friends,” he says quietly, his tone almost taunting. “But you don’t act like a friend. You act like you want something more.”

“I just want you,” You admit. “In any way. I just want you, Gojo.”

Gojo stops breathing as you say this, and the silence around the two of you is almost unbearable. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel the heat of his breath on your neck. "Do you mean that?" he finally asks, his voice hoarse and low. 

You nod. “You’re all I want.”

Gojo slowly lets out a breath, and you can feel him relax his grip around you. His voice is softer now, the edge gone from it. "Then you need to promise me something," he says, his hand moving up to your chin and forcing you to look at him.

You nod again. “Anything.”

"You'll stop trying to distract me," he says, his voice cold again but with the barest hint of tenderness to it. "You'll stop calling me unless it's an actual emergency. And you'll stop trying to visit me at the school or my apartment. Because I can't afford to let myself care about you." A hint of a smile plays on his lips. "Can you do that for me?"

“Yes,” You say.

His smile widens, and he runs his fingers through your hair, gently pushing back a few strands that had fallen in front of your face. "Good," he says quietly, his tone softer now. "Good girl. Now…” He picks you up, causing you to squeak as he wraps your legs around his waist. “I’ve been waiting all week to taste you. Do you want me to eat you out? Do you want me to lick your little clit? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, letting him take control of you again as he carries you into your room. As he tosses you onto the bed and pulls your pyjama shorts down, you have to remind yourself; it’s just casual.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

lemme know what you think! xx

my other gojo fic is here

@whereflowerswenttodie

[keikikait]

ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is the final part. part one, part two, part three

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s), some nanami x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you hang on to gojo's words for too long, and find yourself in the presence of another

warnings: (FOR THIS LAST PART) no outright smut but it can get suggestive so 18+, ANGST, kinda mean gojo, kinda mean nanami, light violence (pushing), my wolf motif from part 3, nickname use [baby, sweetheart], death implications, mention of blood, no use of y/n

a note: this is the final part.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

"How close is soon?"

"Close enough."

It’s been almost three months, and here you are, your routine unchanged. You’re starting to wonder if this was ever really worth it. If Satoru Gojo is worth all of this effort. You feel yourself travelling further and further into the wolf’s den, your protective light slowly flickering out. Soon you’ll be left in total darkness, with only the wolves to comfort you. You wonder how long you’ll be able to get by, feeling the damp walls, etched with his poison, with your fingertips before you trip over the corpse of someone else who came before you.

Within the depths of your being, a conflict raged. One part of you yearned to continue, to press forward despite the darkness and uncertainty of a life with Gojo. The other part, weary and wounded, longed for escape, for a way to retreat from the perilous path you had set foot upon. You had ventured into the unknown, leaving behind the familiar and safe, all for a glimmer of hope. But as time passed, the shine of that hope seemed to diminish, replaced by an encroaching sense of despair. The wolves followed you all this way…you couldn’t let them down, could you?

The bell rings.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts, blinking a couple of times to stabilise yourself. Right. You were at work. You clear your throat and start packing up, preparing for the lunch break. The students quickly file out of the class, eager to enjoy the sunlight that just started peaking out from behind the grey clouds.

Gojo sits on the edge of your desk, smirking down at you. “Hey.”

You smile softly. “Hey.”

He glances back at the door before looking at you. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Fuck. Your eye twitches a little. You had a sneaking suspicion. “What are you thinking about?”

Gojo smirks, reaching out to stroke your cheek. “You bent over the desk, spread out all pretty for me…maybe I’ll gag you so no one interrupts us.” Your eye twitches again. You didn’t want to fuck Gojo right now, but you know you can’t just tell him ‘no’ without him trying to fight you. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe he would cum quickly and not even worry about your orgasm. You sigh, shutting your eyes for a second, and before you can speak there’s a soft knock on the classroom door. He immediately jumps away from you, returning to his desk before mumbling, “Come in.”

The door opens and Shoko peeks her head in her eyes immediately fixing on Gojo before speaking, “Hey. Are you still coming out with me and Akari tonight?”

What? You look between the two of them, confused. Gojo was supposed to be going out with you tonight, and even though both of you would have to leave the city and travel separately to avoid suspicion, you had been looking forward to your weekend away with him.

Gojo smirks, adjusting his blindfold. “Of course. Same place?”

“Yeah, same place.” Shoko looks at you, and her eyes widen as if she’s suddenly remembering that you exist. “Oh, sorry! We meant to invite you but…Akari’s car can only fit three.”

That’s the biggest fucking lie you’ve ever heard. What car can only fit three people? You smile as genuinely as you can. “No worries. I’m busy tonight anyways.” Shoko seems to brush off your response, saying a quick goodbye to Gojo before exiting the room.

Gojo turns to you as soon as he hears Shoko’s feet shuffling away. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you. I know you wanted to go out tonight but…I can’t say no to her. She’ll get suspicious if she sees me with you.”

You feel like the capillaries in your eyes are about to burst. “You promised we would go out tonight, Gojo. I was looking forward to this.”

Gojo sighs. “I know, baby. It’s just that she asked me to go with her, and I knew that if I said no she would ask about my previous plans, and I can’t just lie to Shoko.”

"But you can lie to me?" you ask, your voice tinged with both disbelief and a hint of hurt.

Gojo groans, running a hand through his hair. "Don't say it like that. It's not like that at all. I'm just...protecting my reputation."

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Your reputation? Being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world? The unbeatable Gojo Satoru?"

Gojo sighs, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, yeah. But there's more to me than just that, you know. I have a carefully crafted image to uphold."

You scowl. "Right. Because being the most powerful sorcerer in the world isn't enough. You also have to be an unattainable bachelor."

Gojo chuckles, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "It's not about being enough. It's about maintaining a certain mystique. It's part of the job."

Even though you know his act is purely for show, you find yourself believing it anyway. “You don’t have to lie to me to keep your reputation, Gojo.”

He nods, his expression serious. “I know, it’s just…it's not just about me. It's about the jujutsu world, about maintaining the balance. You know how important appearances can be."

You push his hand off. “Whatever. I hope you have fun.”

He scowls. “Don’t push me away. You know I don’t like that.”

You laugh, standing up and grabbing your bag. “I don’t like being played with.”

Gojo reaches out and grabs your arm. “I can play with you however I like. You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”

“Whatever, Gojo.” You say, pulling your arm away and leaving the classroom, harshly closing the screen door behind you.

During your lunch break, you find an unexpected sense of tranquility. In the past, the mere thought of eating alone elicited feelings of isolation and longing, you yearned to sit next to Gojo. However, lately, you've discovered a newfound appreciation for this solitary time away from him. The absence of Gojo's magnetic pull allows you to explore different facets of yourself without the influence of his opinions or expectations of you. You can finally think, and you find yourself again wondering if this is all worth it. If Gojo Satoru is worth all of this trouble. You don’t want to hang onto him, letting him drag you along and fill your ears with false whispers and forgotten promises, but you can’t help yourself. You love him. Or, at least, you love the version of him in your head.

He doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the day, rushing out after class to head into town with Shoko and Akari. You ride the train alone back to your apartment, the wolves stalking you and hiding in bushes when you turn to face them. You reach your apartment and change into something comfortable. Maybe a long walk along the river will help clear your mind. Maybe Gojo will feel guilty and call you, begging on his knees for your forgiveness.

You walk along the river, admiring the reflection of the streetlights in the inky dark water. Your mind wanders, and you wonder what it would feel like to jump in, to feel your lungs fill with water as you sink into the abyss. You wonder what it would be like to choke on the salt, reaching for the surface, your hand outstretched, hoping Gojo’s own would reach in and pull you out.

As you sit on the bench along the water, lost in thought, someone sits next to you. Turning your head, your eyes widen in surprise as you recognise the person—Kento Nanami. It has been weeks since the festival, where you profusely apologized for Gojo's behavior after he dragged you to that isolated classroom. The memory of that day still makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but feel nervous as you face Nanami again.

"Hey," you manage to say, your voice slightly higher than usual. "It's been a while."

Nanami nods, his expression unreadable. "Yes, it has." An awkward silence settles between you, and you fidget with your hands, unsure of what to say next. You want to make a good impression, but the weight of your past interaction with Gojo hangs heavily in the air. 

Finally, you speak up, your voice calm and measured. "I wanted to apologise for what happened at the festival. I know Gojo's behavior was inexcusable, and I should have done more to stop him." Nanami’s face shows slight surprise but you continue anyway, "I understand if you don't want to forgive me. But I wanted to take responsibility for my actions and let you know that I regret what happened."

He shakes his head, waving your concerns away. "It's not your fault. Gojo is the one who should apologize."

You smile faintly. "Thank you for saying that." The tension between you begins to ease, and you find yourself relaxing in Nanami's presence. You can't help but admire his calm demeanor, and as you talk, you realise that there is more to Nanami than you initially thought. He is intelligent, thoughtful, and possesses a quiet strength that draws you in. The more you speak, the more you find yourself enjoying his company. Maybe a little bit too much.

He suddenly stands, stretching a little. “I’m hungry. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You shake your head. Eating was the last thing on your mind. “No. I could eat, though.”

He sticks his hand out in your direction. “Sweet. I know this great takoyaki stand nearby. Wanna come?”

You nod, smiling. “Sure.” You reach out and grab his hand, and you feel warmth pool in your stomach as your hand fits perfectly in his. His hands are so big, rough, and warm and your mind starts swirling as you imagine what they would feel like on your body.

You walk hand in hand toward the takoyaki stand, the warmth spreading all over your body. Your cheeks flush as you find yourself thinking, is this a date? Gojo has never taken you out on a date, not even once. It would be, as he always said, suspicious. You’ve eaten takeout with him in your apartment while watching TV plenty of times, but that isn’t really a date. Yet here Nanami is, taking you on a date.

As you stand in front of the takoyaki stand, waiting for your order, you can't shake the feeling that something special is happening. The air is filled with anticipation, and your heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He doesn’t let you pay, another stark difference from Gojo. You barely eat, just admiring him as he talks through another corporate world story. You feel something in your gut, and you can’t help the fact that you’re falling for Nanami, and he seems interested in you too. At least you think he is.

You both finish your food and he walks you back in the direction of your apartment. He continues to talk about himself and his corporate job, and even though you find it incredibly boring, you listen anyway. He’s done so much for you just this night alone, it’s the least you could do to repay him. You make it to your apartment door, and in the heat of the moment you invite him in, and the smirk on his face as he accepts causes your thighs to squeeze together.

Sex with Nanami is different. He’s much more caring, more loving than Gojo. He doesn’t slap you, choke you, or hurt you. He’s gentle, gentle with his movements, and gentle with his kisses. You clean yourself up and return to the bed, already thinking about a movie you two could watch while you cuddle, to find Nanami gone. You text him, asking if he’s okay, and his response is plain. “Had to head out. I had fun.” You try not to overthink, you’ve done enough of that with Gojo. You set your phone aside and watch the movie alone, fantasising about your possible future with Nanami.

After two weeks, you finally say what you’ve always wanted to say to Gojo; “I want to break up.”

He laughs at you, leaning his elbows on your kitchen counter. “Funny joke, sweetheart.”

You stand your ground, your arms crossed. “I’m serious, Gojo.”

Gojo's laughter fades, and he looks at you with a more serious expression. "You can't be serious," His voice is laced with disbelief. "We're perfect for each other."

"I don't think so," you reply, your voice shaking slightly. "Things have been...difficult between us lately, and I don't see a way to fix them."

Gojo's face hardens, and he takes a step towards you. "You're making a mistake."

You start to shake. “No, I’m not.”

Gojo laughs again. “This is because of Nanami, isn’t it?”

You hesitate. “It doesn’t matter, Gojo. I want to break up.”

Gojo reaches out and grabs your shoulders. “Quit being a dumbass, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t call me a dumbass—”

“I can call you whatever I want,” Gojo says. “You’re mine. You’re not dumping me for Nanami. You’re not dumping me for anyone.”

You try to push him away. “I’m tired of waiting around for you, Gojo.”

Gojo pulls you to his chest, squeezing you tight. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch I would fall in love with you faster. Have you ever thought about that? No, you haven’t. You only think about yourself.”

Your words die in your throat, and you can feel the familiar presence of the wolves at your ankles. Nanami had come to your rescue, brandishing a torch to scare away the wolves that Gojo had left you surrounded by. You haven’t felt their presence in so long, you thought you had finally gotten away, but Gojo picked you right back up and threw you back in the den.

He shoves you against the wall. “Fine. Go with him. See if I fucking care. You’ll come crawling back to me after you realise he isn’t any different.” Gojo leaves in a huff, slamming the door of your apartment behind him. You did it. You got away. You escaped Gojo Satoru’s clutches.

Your heart sinks as you soon realise the harsh truth in Gojo's words. Nanami, the person you've been cautiously and gradually getting close to, is no different from the rest, you've been merely a casual fling, an object of desire providing temporary pleasure and companionship. That’s all you were to him, an object, and the bitter realisation leaves you feeling betrayed and dejected.

Weeks have passed since you first embarked on this uncertain journey with Nanami. You've shared meals, conversations, and even some tender moments late at night when the lights go out. During one of your late-night trips to the takoyaki stand, you ask him the age-old question What are we? With food still in his mouth, he looks at you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as if trying to understand your reaction. His blunt words hit you like a ton of bricks: "Oh, I wasn’t looking for anything serious with you."

The pain is palpable as your heart shatters into a million pieces. The chopsticks in your hand tremble with the force of your grip, threatening to snap in two. A mix of disbelief and anguish floods your being, leaving you struggling to process the situation. A simple "huh?" escapes your lips, a feeble attempt to seek clarification or perhaps a desperate plea for him to reconsider. But the damage has been done, and the truth is laid bare before you.

He swallows, setting his food down. He pauses, gathering his thoughts, he speaks slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. "Listen," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and awkwardness, "I want to be honest with you. You're an amazing person, a great girl in every way. But I have to confess, my feelings for you aren't romantic. As much as I value your body, I can't see us in a dating relationship. You aren’t exactly dating material. I don't want to lead you on or anything, but I just don’t want to date you."

You swallow hard, looking down at your lap. Maybe this was your destiny. Maybe you were supposed to be stuck in situationships, always being the one wanting more, always being someone’s but never being theirs. You mutter an apology to Nanami before standing up and quickly walking away, back towards your apartment. You expect, you hope, that Nanami will chase after you, but he doesn’t. He just goes back to eating, as if you were never even there.

You make it into your apartment, collapsing to the floor and sobbing. Was this your fate? Was this a punishment for your hubris, a long-term karma? Gojo had devoured you. Gojo had butchered your world, leaving only scraps of you. Scraps no one wanted, scraps not worthy of use. 

You’re back in the den again, surrounded by the corpses of those who loved before you. You were just another person in Gojo’s book, another person in the walls that surrounded the den.

You hear them.

You feel them.

The wolves. They’re coming for you.

Run.

You try to run, but you can’t. You keep tripping, and tripping, and tripping, unable to escape, unable to climb over the bodies of those who loved him first. 

You see the light on the other side, the exit to the den, and you get so close, and you’re almost out —

You trip again. Your body hits the cold, hard cave floor with a thud, the impact knocking the wind out of you. Your heart pounds against your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins, as you scramble to your feet. But it's no use. The wolves have caught up to you, their relentless pursuit echoing off the stone walls. Time has run out.

You turn instinctively, desperation fueling your movements, trying to crawl away on trembling limbs. But your feeble attempt is met with a chilling realisation – they are already there. Towering over you, their hulking forms block out the dim light, casting eerie shadows. Their menacing growls reverberate in the air, sending shivers down your spine. Their muscular bodies tense and coiled, poised to pounce.

Their muzzles are contorted, revealing rows of sharp, glistening fangs, dripping with saliva. A feral hunger burns in their bloodshot eyes, as red as fresh blood. You can almost taste the metallic tang in the air, a grim reminder of the fate that awaits you. Paralysed by fear, you brace yourself for the inevitable, as the wolves close in, their ravenous jaws inching closer. The darkness of the cave closes in, consuming you whole.

You succumb to the wolves and their sharp teeth as they tear you apart. The way they bite and gnaw at you is almost comforting. Beside you is a puddle, and you watch your reflection as they butcher you. They tear out your heart, the one that once belonged to the strongest, and the one you thought would belong to a businessman. Your last thoughts are of Gojo, and you spend your last waking moments wondering if he’ll walk all over you, even in death.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

epilogue is here

★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted, @mystarlightswiftt, @kaizestar (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

[keikikait]

ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 3 of a series. you can find part one here and part two here

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s), slight nanami x reader (...)

word count: 3.4k

summary: the first two weeks of teaching again go by quickly. you find yourself right smack in the middle of the annual winter festival. gojo took his own date, and so did you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst, some self-deprecating stuff, themes of depression, mean gojo, mention of blood, mention of getting eaten (pls don’t ask), cheating???? nickname use [baby, doll (once)], no use of y/n,

a note: this is a repost with an angstier ending, as a lot of angst was voted for (see poll), so here we are, though there is a happy ending. dunno if I'll ever do a part 4.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You and Gojo have a routine.

First, you get ready together, fucking in the shower, trying to push him off as you apply mascara as he greedily rubs up against you. You eat breakfast together, both enjoying your matcha (yours, of course, being a latte. Gojo always goes the more traditional route). He drags on the kiss as you exit your apartment, whining when he finally has to let you go.

Second, he stands a few feet away from you on the train as you make your way outside of Tokyo. He never looks at you, his focus on anyone or anything that catches his eye. You watch him, admiring him, wanting him to just look over so he could admire you too. You want Gojo to see you in the way you see him. You want him to finally care, to beg and plead for you, to feel the way you do. You want him to love you.

Third, you walk towards campus, a few feet behind him just in case anyone is watching. You watch as he effortlessly joins Shoko and Akari’s conversation as they walk up the stairs through the tori gate, not glancing back at you even once. You follow behind them, the sounds of their laughter filling your ears. Surrounding you. Swallowing you whole, only to spit you out broken and battered. The snow crunches under your feet, silencing your thoughts — but only for a second. Your thoughts are like wolves, stalking you and waiting to pounce, waiting for you to be vulnerable.

Your routine takes hold of you, and the days blend together as you relive the same painful day over and over. Maybe this is all a punishment for your hubris, karma from the gods for loving him. You watch him live so effortlessly without you, as you sit around hoping he’ll meet your gaze for just a second. The thoughts come, as they always do, and soon you’re surrounded by wolves, bloodied and battered and waiting to be eaten. And then, the wolves disappear into smoke, and you have Gojo for just a brief second before he pushes you back into the wolf’s den. Maybe this time you’ll let the wolves eat you. Your last words would be Gojo’s name before your mouth fills with blood as you get your throat ripped out. You wonder if you would even be on his mind after.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up from your desk to see Nobara standing there, smiling, her books in her arms. You zoned out through the entire lesson, students trying to pile out the door behind her. You look at her again and smile. “Yes?”

She smiles, clutching her books a little tighter. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly at the mention of the festival. “Yes, I am. Why?”

Nobara shifts on her feet. “Are you going with Gojo-sensei?”

Gods, even his name causes goosebumps to appear on your body. “No, Kugisaki-san. I’m not taking anyone with me.”

Nobara pouts a little. “Oh come on! You guys would be perfect together!” Your eye twitches and your stomach lurches. “It’s his loss, I guess.” She moves away as quickly as she appears, following Megumi out the classroom door.

You hear a snarl, and just like that the wolves are back. They follow you around as you make your way through your day, biting at your ankles. They follow you as you make your way off campus, heading to the train station. You slide your way into the crowd making its way into the station, pushing your way past students and businessmen. You’re trying to make your train, yes, but you’re also escaping the wolves that are chasing you, foaming at the mouth at the idea of tasting you. You fear that if they catch you you might never make it out alive, your body left cold on the floor of the train station, people stepping over you and moving on with their lives, because, in the end, you didn’t matter.

“Excuse me,” You say softly, pushing past a tall man. Your fingers brush over the light tan colouring of his suit as you put your hand on his arm to steady yourself in the crowd. The man mumbles something before he looks over and tilts his head. He says your name so softly you almost don’t hear him. You finally get a look at his face as he towers over you, and your heart beats a little faster. “Nanami?”

You’ve met Kento Nanami before and spoken in brief conversations, even when he’s been an adjunct professor at the school and taught a lesson. You always noticed that he didn’t speak a lot, at least not to you. You appreciated the silence sometimes, a stark difference from Gojo’s constant running mouth, but the times he would simply just ignore you while you helped him plan lessons and prepare demonstrations left a bad feeling in your stomach. In those moments you didn’t just wonder if you were good enough for Gojo, you wondered if you were good enough for anyone. 

He looks deep into your eyes, and the wolves turn to dust. He smiles softly at you, but in your eyes, it looks almost forced. “Hey there. Long time no see. How are you?”

You think this might be the most words he’s ever spoken to you. “I’m doing great. How are you?”

Nanami nods. “Fine, you know how the 7 to 3 life is. Are you still assisting Gojo at the school?”

It’s your turn to nod this time. “Yes. For another year and a half.”

He smiles, and it seems more genuine than the last. “A year and a half of dealing with Gojo… I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.” You laugh, and it’s the first genuine laugh you’ve had in almost a month.

Instead of catching your usual train home, you opt to sit and chat with Nanami. This is the most extroverted you’ve ever seen him, and this is definitely the most eye contact you’ve ever shared. He leans back on the bench, legs stretched out straight, playing with the end of his tie while he talks to you. 

You had noticed it before, but now you’re certain. Kento Nanami is hot. His voice, his face, his hands, his arms…you’re finding yourself squirming on the bench and trying to calm your nerves as he stares at you, almost forcing you to keep eye contact. 

You stiffen when you hear the next announcement, the realisation hitting that it’s your next train arriving soon. You stand up, gathering your things. “My train is almost here. I’m sorry that we have to cut this conversation short.”

He waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just have more to talk about next time.” 

Next time. You feel slight butterflies in your stomach when thinking about your next conversation with him. All you manage to say is, “For sure. I would like that.” You head to your platform, clutching your bag close when Nanami calls your name again, much more confident than before. You turn to face him, the wind from the train approaching whipping through your hair.

He glances down the platform, seemingly nervous. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

You have to speak a little louder as the train starts to near the station. “Yes, I am.”

Nanami smiles, a look of nervousness still staining his face. “Great. I’m going too. What if we went together?”

The train approaches and you yell over the noise, “I would like that!”

He hears you and smiles, yelling his goodbyes over the train as you enter its doors. You find a seat next to the window, and you wave to each other as the train starts to move. The train pulls out of the station, taking you home, and a smile creeps onto your face as you sink into the seat. Part of you feels guilty, begging you to consider your relationship with Gojo, but the other part of you thinks; what relationship? Plus, you’re going to the festival with Nanami as friends, acquaintances, nothing more. At least, that’s how you view it.

You head home, once again finding yourself vulnerable in the wolf's den. You wonder how it would feel if you let them attack you, how it would feel to be pinned down and scratched and chewed on like a piece of dried octopus. Would Gojo notice you, finally, as you lay dead, your blood leaking out of your shredded throat? Would he turn away, avert his gaze at the sight of his dead lover? Or would he simply stare before stepping over you?

The wolves stalk you as you make your way back to the station, the snow falling softly, sticking to your hair. You feel nervous; nervous about seeing Nanami again, and nervous about seeing Gojo with Himiko. You had almost forgotten her name, but deep down you wish you did. Maybe thinking about her as a faceless, nameless entity would make your throat stop closing up.

You climb your way up the steps of the school, and you start to smile when you see Nanami waiting for you. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful pink glow to him, and in this moment you think he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. The glasses he’s normally wearing are long gone, and he switched out his suit for a black sweater, dark blue slacks, a long brown trenchcoat, and a scarf in the same Rorschach-esque design as his usual tie and sword. 

Your stomach flutters as you approach him. “Hey.”

He stares at you for a second before saying, “Hey.” You stare at each other, admiring one another, and butterflies in your stomach won’t stop flying around, bumping into the walls of your intestines. You don’t know what you’re feeling, and you don’t know if you like it.

You clear your throat, stepping towards the gate. “Let’s head in.” Nanami nods and follows you inside the campus. You walk together through the festival, the air around you almost feeling electric, the campus replacing its usual student occupants with a bustling crowd and food carts. Takoyaki, yakitori, yakisoba, everything just smells so delicious. Maybe the wolves won’t be hungry for you tonight.

You and Nanami wander, your hands occasionally brushing as you chat about work and life, lost in the heat of your conversation. You find a stall finally offering drinks, and you both purchase some green tea before sitting down, your back to the festival. You’re in the middle of one of Nanami’s corporate world stories when his eyes drift behind you and he smiles. “There he is!”

Confused, you look over your shoulder, only to be met with the looming figure of Gojo. He stares down at you and Nanami, his blindfold covering his eyes. Right next to him is, you assume, Himiko, a tall woman, dressed to the nines in what might be real fox fur. She’s beautiful. More beautiful than you. You hear another snarl as the wolves come creeping out of the dark classrooms, towards you. Was this your competition? Your replacement? Did she have his heart already, or did he hide it from her like he did you?

Gojo clears his throat, glancing away before turning his gaze back to you and Nanami. “Here I am.”

Even now, you admire him. He’s so effortlessly beautiful, everything he does causes you to lose your breath. The way the wind pushes his hair back, the way his hoodie sits around his hips…you’re in love with him. As much as you hate it, as much as it destroys you, you love him. You can practically feel the wolf pinning you to the cave floor and ripping your beating heart out of your chest, chewing it, and swallowing it in one bite.

Nanami notices your gaze, too. He notices the way you look at Gojo, the absolute adoration in your eyes. The way your breath hitches, the way your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way your cheeks change colour and the way your whole body relaxes. Nanami notices Gojo’s body language, too, almost as if he could see his eyes under the blindfold. He puts it together too quickly, and clears his throat, standing up from the table, trying to hide his disappointment that you were in love with someone else. “I’m gonna get another tea.” He moves through the crowd towards the stall and you go to follow him, brushing past Gojo when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your arm, squeezing it tight.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“No, we don’t,” you respond. He squeezes your arm even tighter, before tugging you along behind him as he walks away from Nanami and Himiko. 

Gojo drags you into his classroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He stares at you, his arms crossed, before finally speaking, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You’re confused, and your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Trying to enjoy my time at the festival.”

Gojo’s voice is laced with poisonous anger, and you’re almost afraid to breathe it in. “With Nanami?”

You swallow. “He asked me to come with him.”

Gojo's shoulders relax for a second before tensing up again. “You’re on a date? With Nanami?”

Your face turns red. “This isn’t a date.”

“Yes, it is,” Gojo says firmly. “He asked you on a date. And you agreed.”

You find yourself starting to get angry. “So what if it is a date?”

His jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

You take a step back. “So what if it is a date, Gojo? You’re on one too, in case you forgot.”

Gojo laughs. “You mean Himiko? This isn’t a date. I’m just doing a favour for Shoko, I’m trying to help her friend get settled into the city. You shouldn’t be mad at me for --”

You interrupt him. “Cut the shit. You’re on a date with a girl who isn’t me.”

“It isn’t a date,” Gojo says.

You feel yourself getting angrier and angrier. “That’s what it looks like.”

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Gojo says. “It isn’t the truth. If you would just let me explain-”

“Explain what?” You snap, the anger threatening to break the surface. “How do you agree to go on a date with another woman?”

There’s a pause before he says, “Don’t interrupt me again, doll. Remember who’s in charge here.”

Your fists clench. “God, can I fucking talk? Sat—Gojo, you have to understand how it makes me feel.”

You fucked up. You know you shouldn’t call him that, that forbidden name, but it just slipped out. Your words die in your throat, and your anger starts to dissolve into anxiety. You don’t know much about Geto, but you do know that Gojo’s first name is reserved for him, and you broke Gojo’s only rule. 

He doesn’t say anything, but you can physically feel the shift in the air. A cold shiver runs down your spine. The mask across his eyes doesn’t help, his emotions unreadable. 

“Gojo, I’m sorry,” You say. You approach him gently. “I’m sorry.”

You feel yourself getting more and more anxious as he just stands there. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. He just stands there, looking down at you from his imposing height. You can only sit helplessly as he tosses you back into the wolf's den, and you can’t run away as they start tearing at you. You wonder if he’ll keep your head, mouth open and cold and blue, on display on a mantle on his wall, a message to all that watch to never love him.

It feels like an eternity before he speaks. “I trusted you."

Your bottom lip trembles. "You still can. It was an accident--"

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident or not," Gojo says, looking down at the ground. "You know not to call me that. Don't act like you can replace him."

A few tears fall down your face. "No...I know I can't, Gojo, I know I can't replace him. But I swear it was an accident."

"It doesn't matter," Gojo says after a beat. "What matters is you’re mine, and you're on a date with Nanami."

"It's not a date, Gojo," You say. "He and I are just friends."

"You would only be here with him if you had feelings for him," Gojo says.

You start to cry now. "I have feelings for you, Gojo. Not Nanami."

That makes him pause. "I know you do."

"Then why are you here with Himiko?" You ask, starting to feel angry again. "Why aren't you here with me?"

“Himiko means nothing to me.” Gojo says. "You know we couldn't go to the festival together. It would be suspi--"

"Suspicious, yes, I got it." You snap. "You didn't have to go with her. You could've turned down Shoko's offer."

"And what would I look like then?" Gojo asks. "I would look like a bad friend and a bad coworker. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Why does your reputation matter more than me?" You ask, your voice becoming louder.

"Because it's all I have!" Gojo says, his voice matching yours. "I'm Satoru Gojo, I'm the strongest! I can't have any baggage, I can't have anyone be important to me. That's how I become weak, and that's how I lose everything. Including you."

"Why do you treat me like this?” you ask, angry tears running down your cheeks. “Why do you always put me second? Why do you always make me feel so unwanted? Am I not good enough for you? Am I not what you want? Am I not what you need?”

He pauses and remains silent for a long time. He takes a deep breath, his voice stern once again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are good enough for me, you’re too good for me. You’re the most beautiful, caring person that I’ve ever met. I treat you like garbage, and yet you always come back to me. I’m mean to you, and you accept it with a smile on your face. But you have to understand that this is more important to me. It's more important than you…if I appear weak, I fail. If I fail, I lose everything and everyone." He gets close to you, grabbing your face. "I already lost someone important to me. I can't lose you too."

"Do you care about me?" You ask softly.

He nods. "Of course I do."

You swallow hard, nervous to ask your next question. "Do you love me?"

He hesitates.

In that moment, even without him speaking, you know your answer. You go to say something else but he interrupts. "I can. Eventually. One day. I just can't love you right now."

"When is eventually?" You ask.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. I care about you, you know that. You know that I love our time together, and I look forward to every single second I get to spend with you. I just can't love you right now, not in the way that you want me to. The way that you need me to."

"Will you ever love me?" You ask.

He doesn't hesitate when he answers, "Yes."

You close your eyes, sighing. "When?"

He strokes your cheekbones. "Soon."

"How close is soon?"

"Close enough."

You pause. You feel the presence of the wolves again, biting on your ankles, threatening to drag you down into the depths of the den and tear you limb from limb. Would they chew on your bones after? Would it be quick, painless? Or would you survive for just long enough to watch them eat you?

Gojo calms the wolves, but only for so long. He’s a protective light as you hide in the walls of the den, stepping over the corpses of those before you. He’s the one, he’s all you’ve ever wanted, and you think you’ll regret this.

You nod, accepting his answer.

He pulls you close and hugs you. He kisses the top of your head and takes a deep breath before saying, “Have I ever told you about Geto?” You shake your head, you know next to nothing about the man. Gojo never told you, and you never asked. He strokes your hair and sighs. “Do you want to hear about him?” 

You nod, and Gojo tells you.

He tells you all about Geto — Suguru, as he calls him. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. He recounts his memories, smiling and even laughing at some parts. You listen to every word, and you don’t speak. You can tell, just from his words, that Gojo loved him, but you can also tell that he will always love Geto more than he loves you.

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part four is here

★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

[keikikait]

a slice of almond tofu [aged up!megumi x f!reader]

pairing: au!biker!megumi x barista!mechanicsdaughter!reader (both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 3k

summary: you're the head barista at your local cafe. you see people come and go regularly, customers and employees. recently, a spiky, dark-haired biker has been coming in every day, and you suspect he’s always there to see you.

warnings: slightly ooc megumi haha, my limited knowledge of motorcycles, smut [18+ ONLY!], dom!megumi, sub!reader, public sex? (it’s in an empty office), nickname use [baby, sweetheart, pretty girl], name calling [slut, fucktoy, whore], cunnilingus, porn with slight plot, mention of a blowjob, use of the words ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’, clit slapping (?), choking (slight), hair pulling (kind of?), mention of a breeding kink (sue me idc)

a note: this is my first fanfic on tumblr, please be understanding lol. i tried to write this as body type, skin tone, hair color, and hair texture neutral as possible. please let me know if there's something i should add or take away! also, sorry if there are any issues with tense, i flip-flopped between past & present for a while.

please reblog and comment, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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It was late at the cafe, the setting sun outside causing a wave of soft golden light that further added to the warm, comfy aesthetic.

Your back was turned to the front, wiping down one of the espresso machines to clean it. Your head spun around when you heard the low growl of a bike outside. 

He was here.

He came inside, pulling his helmet off as he shut the door. He smooths his dark hair with his hand and took a look at the menu on the wall briefly before approaching you behind the counter.

He clears his throat before speaking in a calm, quiet voice.

“A slice of almond tofu and a hot caramel latte, please.”

You smile, plugging it into the register before grabbing a ticket to write his order on. “For here?”

“Yes.”

“And soy milk, right?”

He blushes slightly. You remember him. “Yes, soy milk.”

You chuckle, capping the pen and setting the ticket on the espresso machine. He moved to sit down at his usual spot, a large dark brown leather couch in the corner of the cafe by the only outlet. It was directly across from the pick up counter, and you used this to your advantage, slowly stealing glances at him while he typed away on his laptop or read whatever book he had that day.

You got to work on his order, picking a large slice of the almond tofu before putting more of the frangipane and almond slices on top. You know he always wanted more almond on top, and even though it was an extra 50 cents, you never charged him. You made his latte, paying extra attention to the latte art. A heart would be too forward, you thought, so you did a fern.

You plate his order before sliding it onto the pickup counter. “It’s Megumi, right?”

He looks up from his laptop, his lips slightly parted. “Yeah, do I really come in here that much?” He stands up and collects his order before sitting back down.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind.”

He smiles before taking a bite of the almond tofu. “I like this cafe. It’s so comfortable and calming…plus the coffee and food are really good.”

He glances out the window briefly before turning back to you. He clarifies your name, and to your own surprise, he said it correctly.

You smile. “That's me,” You point to your nametag which had “HEAD BARISTA” carved into it under your name.

He glances at it and smiles at you. “How long have you been working here?”

You grab a rag from the sanitizer bucket and begin wiping down the counter. “About three years.”

He whistles, “That’s a long time.” He takes a sip of the latte. “I assume I’m one of your regulars.”

You smile. “Yeah, it’s hard to forget that bike.” You put the rag back into the sanitizer bucket.

He smirks, scratching his jaw. “Ah, so I’m memorable?”

You smile again. “Very. Also, you’re one of the only customers that gets the almond tofu. The matcha is the most popular.” You lean across the counter, propped up on your elbows.

“It’s one of my favorite things here. I love how simple yet sweet it is.” He looks out the window again before looking back at you. “Can I ask you for some advice?”

You’re taken aback, but you say yes anyway.

Megumi sighs, facing you completely. “So, I just moved here, and I’ve been having some issues with my bike, with the engine and the exhaust…my friend and I have been trying to repair it but nothing is working. Do you know of any auto shops around?” He reaches up and scratches the back of his head, and you had to force yourself to ignore how his bicep moved under his shirt.

You smile. You had this in the bag. “Actually, funnily enough, my dad is a mechanic,” You reach over to the napkin holder and pull a pen out of your apron pocket, scribbling down the address. “You can come by tomorrow, if you want.” You slide it across the counter.

His eyes light up. “R-Really? That's so sweet of you, umm…” He pauses. “How much would it cost? I haven’t gotten paid yet.”

You wave away his worries. “It’ll be on the house. My dad does free repairs for my friends.”

Megumi’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, smiling again. “Come by around noon.”

He smiles down at the napkin before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. “Thank you so much…you seriously don’t understand how much it means to me.”

You step back from the counter. “Don’t worry about it.”

Megumi shoves the remaining tofu in his mouth before gulping down the rest of the drink, sliding the dishes to you. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”

You pick up the dishes, setting them aside to wash. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi.”

You watch as he leaves, putting his helmet back on and climbing onto his bike. He drives off, into the sunset, and you can’t wait for tomorrow.

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It was a hot day in Tokyo.

You get up early, taking your time to thoroughly get ready. He had only ever seen you in your barista uniform, no makeup with your hair pulled back, and an ugly, bulky brown apron on. You want to impress him, you need to impress him.

You look in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair and tugging on your thin sundress. It’s one of your favorites, pretty short, just hitting the middle of your thigh, a soft lavender color, and fairly loose fitting. A slight breeze would cause it to float up, but if Megumi saw that you wouldn’t mind too much.

You head over to your dad’s workshop, pulling open the heavy gate and stepping inside. You had lied and said Megumi was a school friend to secure the free discount for him. You pace around, antsy, occasionally glancing at your phone. It was already 12:15, and worry that he wasn’t coming was eating you alive.

Megumi pulls up to the workshop on the edge of town, parking his bike in front of the garage door. He walks up and knocks, hoping you would answer and not your father.

You pull the door up, smiling. “Hey, Megumi!”

Megumi smiles, trying to not let his eyes wander over your body. “Hey, sorry I’m late…it nearly gave out on me on the ride over here.” He starts walking his motorcycle inside the garage.

“It’s okay,” You smile. “My dads in his office, I’ll go get him.”

You rush to your dad’s office, knocking on the door and peeking your head in. Megumi tries not to watch your ass move in your dress as you walked, but he can’t help himself. 

Your father exits his office, greeting Megumi with a smile. You stand behind your father and watch; watch the way Megumi’s eyes lit up when he was discussing his bike, how big his smile was when your father confirms, yes, the repairs would be free, and how his arms moved as he gestured.

You want him. Badly.

Your father squats down by the bike, examining the exhaust pipe. He unscrews the covers on the side to look at the engine, and whistles. 

He stands back up, looking at Megumi. “This might take a while. I gotta go across town to get some replacement parts.” Megumi’s eyes widen, and he fumbles for his wallet in his bag. He pulls it out and starts inquiring about the payment when your father shakes his head. “On the house, you’re a friend of my daughter. Don’t worry about it.”

Megumi gulps. “Are you sure, sir?” Your father nods before heading over to you and kissing you on the forehead. 

“I’ll leave right now. I’ll be back in maybe an hour or so.”

You both say your goodbyes and the garage door shut with a bang as your father leaves.

Now it’s just the two of you, alone.

You finally break the silence. “Do you want to sit in his office? It’s air conditioned.”

He smiles. “Yes, please. The heat is killing me.”

You chuckle before leading him into your father’s office, sitting down in his big office chair. Your thighs smush together when you sit down, and it make Megumi’s jaw tick. You grab the small hand fan your father kept on his desk and begin fanning yourself.

Megumi sits in the chair across the desk. “So, do you help out here, too? Or do you just work at the cafe?”

A droplet of sweat travels down your collarbone. “I help out here sometimes. Mostly I’m an errand girl.”

You keep fanning yourself, pulling the dress down your thighs. You’re already hot and sweaty, and being around Megumi definitely doesn’t help.

He crosses his legs, trying to hide the erection that was slowly forming. You look so adorable in your dress, and Megumi can’t help but imagine kissing your shoulders and chest as he slides the straps down-

No. He has to focus and hold out. At least for a little bit longer.

He leans his elbows on his knees, wiping his lip with his thumb. “That's nice of you, to help your father.”

You swallow hard, sitting up straight and squeezing your thighs together. He’s so effortlessly beautiful. “Yeah, I guess so. He fixes my car for free.”

You continue to fan yourself. It gets awkwardly quiet, the only sound being from the clock ticking on the wall above the door.

He looks at you, rubbing his thumb on his knee in a circular motion. “Do you think he’ll actually take an hour?”

You nod. “He gets distracted at the store, talking to his mechanic buddies. Honestly, he’ll probably take longer than that.”

Megumi grins. “Perfect. I want you all to myself for a while.”

You bite back a whine and squeeze your thighs together again, finally responding with “Mhm.”

He smirks. “You okay? A bit hot?”

You nod, sheepish. “Yeah…a bit.”

“Mhmm, I can tell. You keep squeezing your thighs together. It’s adorable.” Megumi says. 

You nearly faint. “It is?”

“It’s the cutest thing.” He stands up from the chair and walks around the desk, kneeling in front of you.

You let out a soft gasp, shutting the fan and setting it down on the desk.

He smirks, and reaches up to touch your thighs. “Is this okay?” You nod, sliding down further in the chair. He groans, spreading his hands over your thighs. “God, these are driving me crazy.”

“Yeah?”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your thigh. “Yeah. Been wanting to sink my teeth into them. Been wanting you ever since yesterday.”

You gulp. “Since yesterday? Even when I’m in my uniform?”

He nods, squeezing your thighs with his hands. They’re rough and calloused and you nearly cum on the spot. “You looked so fucking innocent, it drove me crazy. I almost crashed on the way home because I was so goddamn hard and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking that little mouth of yours.” 

Your mouth dropped open, almost instinctively. “Um, I mean-I wouldn’t mind that.”

He smirks again. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”

Baby. You let out a shaky breath.

He pushes the hem of your dress around your hips, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees your panties. Black, relatively plain, but there’s a little purple bow on the front and it makes his head spin. “Can I take these off?”

Your face flushes. “I thought you wanted me to…you know-”

“Gag on my cock?” Megumi finishes your sentence for you. “I do. But, that can wait. I need to get my mouth on you or else I’m going to die.”

You nod. You aren’t complaining, not at all. “You can take ‘em off, then.”

Megumi slides your panties down, pocketing them for later, and spreads your legs wide. He moans when he sees your little cunt for the first time. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you to the edge of the chair. 

You feel anxious under his gaze. Does he not like it? Is it pretty? Before you can even think about asking, he leans forward and slots his mouth over you.

You gasp, immediately going to thread your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, despite the gel. Maybe you should ask him what kind he uses after.

Megumi moans when he tastes you, moving his tongue flat in small circles over your clit. He can’t get enough, the taste is driving him crazy. And you’re so sensitive too, squirming and moaning his name.

He moves his mouth away and slides two fingers inside you. You whine at the loss of contact and try to push his head down again. He chuckles. “Patience, pretty girl, patience.”

You shake your head. You can barely focus on anything other than his long fingers pumping in and out of you. They feel so much better than your own. “Can’t, Megs, I can’t. I need you.”

“I know you do,” He coos, thrusting even faster. His thumb takes the place of his tongue, rubbing your clit in small circles. “Your cute little clit is so swollen, just for me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes! All for you, Megs!” Your hips buck a little when his thumb speeds up.

He fucking laughs at that. “Sensitive little slut, aren’t ya?”

You nod again, nearly cumming at his condescending laugh and the pet name. “Your…your slut, Megumi.”

He smirks. “All mine. You were practically made for me, baby. I can just tell this little cunt is gonna squeeze my cock so well.” His fingers speed up and he moves his thumb to replace it with his tongue. 

His fingers rub against that spongey spot inside you and you cum immediately, clenching around his fingers as you grind against his tongue.

Megumi pulls away, a triumphant smile on his face. “Fuck. Good girl.” He gives your clit a gentle slap before getting up from his knees. He pulls off his shirt and starts to unbuckle his belt. “Bend over the desk. Right now.”

You happily oblige, moving your father’s papers aside and bending over the desk, hiking your dress up around your hips.

He grabs your hips tight, pushing your thighs open with his knees. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so good like this.”

You shake a little. “I do?”

Megumi groans, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “So fucking good. Makes me wanna take you home and make you my personal little fucktoy.”

You let out a shaky moan. Holy shit. “I-I-I mean I wouldn’t mind.”

He groans again. “Goddamn, you’re perfect. Maybe I should make you mine. Take you home, treat you right, fuck your brains out every night…”

His voice trails off, and you go to respond with a pathetic ‘Please, Megumi!’ when you feel his cock push against your cunt and slowly start sliding in.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you moan.

He grabs your hair roughly, right at the root. “Fuck.” 

Megumi’s cock slides all the way in and you almost cum. You feel like your choking, like his cock is in your guts.

“So big…” You manage to say. 

He reaches his other hand around and wraps it around your throat, and this time you do cum.

Megumi groans loudly. “God, fuck, did you just cum?” You nod pathetically and he chuckles. “Fucking whore. I love it.”

His hips start moving, the pat pat pat filling your ears. You can hardly think, quickly being pushed past your second orgasm as the third one looms.

You swallow some drool before it escapes your lips. “Megumi…”

“Shhh, pretty girl,” Megumi coos. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” He squeezes your neck a little.

Your mouth drops open as his hips speed up. His soft moans are right by your ear, and even though you’re getting fucked stupid, you can’t help but imagine what he sounds like when you’re between his thighs gagging on his stupidly big cock.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he squeezes your neck again.

He moves his hand from your neck to your mouth, covering it. “Shhh, baby. We don’t want your neighbors to hear you, do we?” 

You nod, agreeing with him. You can’t let anything ruin this moment.

Megumi keeps his hand clamped over your mouth as his hips speed up. “Fuck, sweetheart, I wanted to hold out but I don’t think I can last. Your little cunt is so wet and perfect, fucking hell.”

He tugs your head back further and your eyes meet.

Tears well in your eyes and you mumble against his hand. “Please cum inside me, Megumi.”

His eyes darken. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up? Get you nice and pregnant?”

You’ve never even thought about having kids, but honestly you would do anything for him at this point. You nod pathetically. 

His smirk fades as he moans. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

Megumi keeps a tight grip on your hair as his thrusts speed up. His orgasm sneaks up on him. “Fuck, fuck, shit-baby, fuck, ‘m cumming!” He cums loudly, letting go of your hair and gripping your hips with both hands to keep you from moving away.

You lay there on your father’s desk, drooling slightly.

He flips you onto your back and sits you upright. “You okay? Did I go too hard?”

You smile softly. “It was perfect.”

Megumi grins before looking down at your cunt as his cum drips out. “Fuck. Do you have a tissue or something?”

You blindly reach behind you and grab the box of tissues your father keeps on his desk. Megumi takes one and cleans you up gently. 

He kisses your clit before slapping it again. “You’re such a good girl.”

Your legs are still shaking. “Your good girl.”

His eyebrows raise. “Yeah? You wanna be mine?”

You nod. “Wanna be all yours, Megs.”

Megumi pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I think we can arrange that.”

The floor shakes as the garage door opens, signaling your father’s return. 

His eyes flick to the clock. “Hey, you lied! He only took 45 minutes!”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ahhh sorry the ending is so shit lmao, i had no idea how to end it. anywayz, let me know what you think!

pt 2? maybe.

please do not translate or copy my work!

[keikikait]

ᴛᴇʟᴇᴠᴀɴɢᴇʟɪꜱᴍ (ɢᴇᴛᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: geto x f!reader (not au, geto and reader are both around 27)

word count: 1.8k

summary: as one of masamichi yaga’s former students, you got along well with geto, gojo, and riko back in your high school days. now things are different, but you’re still attached to one man, suguru geto. you obey his every command like a devoted follower does.

warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI, DARK CONTENT AHEAD, dom!geto and sub!reader, oral (m receiving), face fucking, use of the words cock and cunt, slapping, spitting, degrading, nickname use (slut), clit slapping, choking, light violence, angst!!!!, brainwashed reader, talks of non-sorcerer death (not too graphic, just mentioned), talk of cults, hyena motif, emotionally manipulative geto

a note: will i ever get over this? no. no, i will not.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Ever since you laid eyes on him, you knew you loved him. From almost failing a test because you spent too long gazing at him in class, to following him around like a lost puppy on campus, you’ve always been in love with Suguru Geto. Even now.

You’re devoted. You trust him. You’re easy. And that’s why Suguru keeps you around. He likes to manipulate you, he likes to push your buttons and tease you, send you away crying knowing you’ll come crawling back for more. You had never defied him. If he said jump, you’d ask how high. If he told you to kill an innocent non-sorcerer, you would.

You’re not a part of his cult, no, no. You’ve heard about cults before and heard the tales of Jim Jones, Charles Manson, Heaven’s Gate, and, of course, the Star Religious Group. You’ve seen the televangelist proclamations of the second coming of Christ and heard all about the Rapture, but that isn’t what this is. He isn’t a cult leader, not at all. He’s your Suguru. Your leader, devoted to the cause of wiping out the weak, the non-sorcerers. The ones who killed Riko.

You’re not his follower, you’re his. His soulmate! The one who gets to stay in his cushy cabin while the others are stuck in frail tents that could be knocked over by a gentle breeze. You’re the one he makes love to every night. He wouldn’t do that for just any follower, you were special. You had to be. You don’t know who you would be without him. You’ve supported him for so long, let his poisonous ideals fill your lungs and you choked on them at first, like anyone would, but soon you began to breathe them in.

You hadn’t always been this way. Once, you had done the unthinkable, the thing that breaks his heart the most: you tried to escape. You didn’t make it far out of the compound before he found you, easily overpowering you and tackling you to the ground. He was calm, at first, telling you how disappointed he was in you. How you failed him. You were supposed to be special. How could you do this to him? He trusted you. He started to get angry at your tears and your pathetic apologies, and he decided to give you a beating, just for good measure, breaking your nose just for the fun of it before he dragged you back inside the compound by your hair, kicking and screaming.

Once he had you back in his teeth, locked away in his room, he made you realise how disrespectful you were. He gave you everything, and you thought you could just run away? He taught you so much. He taught you how to hone your technique, how to make it as powerful as his. Almost. He taught you his ideals, about how all non-sorcerers are worthless monkeys who cause curses to begin with. He taught you that your thoughts about defecting — about leaving him — were like hyenas, and without him and his guidance, they would laugh at you as they chased you through the desert before killing you and ripping you limb from limb. You didn’t want to leave him, did you? You couldn’t be without him, after all, you were nothing without him. He had you wrapped around his finger, and his cock, and he loved every second of it, although he had to admit you looked prettier on your knees, worshipping him.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing. On your knees, trying to ignore the tingling in your calves from kneeling on the hardwood, his cock down your throat. You bob your head, tears streaming down your cheeks from the burning sensation in the back of your throat, trying not to gag. Suguru didn’t like it when you gagged. He didn’t like it when you resisted. 

You make your way down to the base, your nose buried in his pubes, and he reaches a hand around to push on your head. “Good girl. Stay there for a second.” You nod, as best as you can, blinking away the tears as you relax your throat. He strokes your hair for a second before his hips thrust.

You try to relax, squeezing your thumbs against your palms as you try not to gag.

And he thrusts again.

And again.

And again.

And you gag, your hands instinctively coming up to his thighs to push him away. He grips your hair into a tight fist and yanks you off, a trail of spit following your mouth. A symbol of your connection. You take a shaky deep breath, looking up at him with red, teary eyes. “Suguru-” 

He slaps you, hard. Your head jolts to the right, a stinging sensation spreading over your cheek. You sniffle, tears welling in your eyes again. You could almost hear the hyena’s laugh. 

He tugs your head up towards him, slapping you again, harder this time. “I told you not to gag.” You nod, babbling an apology. You deserve this punishment, after all. You had failed him. You were resisting, even though you didn’t mean to. You notice his cold, hateful glare and you apologise even more, apologising for your failure, apologising for letting him down.

You want his cock back in your mouth. You want to be useful to him. You look at it, thick and long and covered in your spit and tears. You feel your mouth watering and you stick your tongue out slightly. He notices this and laughs, jostling your head around. “You want my cock?”

You nod, panting a little. “Yes, Suguru.”

“Are you going to gag again?” He asks, tugging on your hair.

“No,” you say, your eyes wide and full of adoration as you stare up at him. “I won’t gag.”

He sighs, tugging on your hair again. “You know what happens when you disappoint me,” You nod again. “What happens when you disappoint me?”

“The hyenas come.” You answer softly.

“Yes, that’s right,” Suguru says, pushing your face against him. He rubs his cock against your cheek, smearing your spit and tears over your face. “The hyenas come, and they will kill you. And then you’ll be without me. And what are you without me?”

Your answer quickly. “Nothing.” He grins. He taught you so well, he taught you exactly how to please him. He rubs his cock against your cheek, the one he just slapped, before sliding his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. He thrusts and thrusts, and you finally listen to this time. You don’t gag, not even once. You take his abuse, loving every second of it.

After a few minutes, he pushes you off and you land harshly on the floor. “Get on the bed, slut.” You do, climbing up onto the bed and pressing your back against the pillows. He gets on top of you, caging your head in between his arms. He spits on your cunt before sliding in, gritting his teeth at the slight resistance. You weren’t being very good right now, were you? He slaps your clit and your cunt gushes, allowing him to slide in. 

Suguru leans down on his elbows, one hand wrapped tight around your throat as he thrusts into you. He loves this feeling, the feeling of you spread open and dripping wet for him, wrapped around his cock. You take all of his hurt and abuse and you smile and ask for more. He’s never met anyone quite like you, so easy to manipulate and so easy to toss around like a toy. He could even throw you away once he was bored, knowing you would still be in the trash can once he needed you again. Suguru didn’t care about you. You could drop dead in front of him and he would step over your body, only hearing the hyena’s laugh as they tear out your intestines. He let you call him Suguru, but only because he knew you loved it, and if you loved it and you loved him, you would worship him. You would be his, and that’s all he needs, a devoted follower to support his goal.

“Open,” He says, squeezing your throat. Your mouth falls open and your tongue rolls out, and he spits directly on your tongue. “Don’t swallow it. Let me see.” You nod, your tongue hanging out as he fucks you, his spit dripping onto your chin. The sight makes his cock twitch, you look so pathetic and stupid, and he can’t wait to hit you later and make you cry for disobeying him and gagging on his cock. If you couldn’t follow a simple order, what could you do?

The combination of his big cock in your tight little cunt, his spit on your tongue, and his hand around your throat is too much and you cum, squeezing and clenching around him. He laughs triumphantly, squeezing your throat even tighter. He slaps you again, not because you did anything wrong, but because he loved the pathetic look in your eyes as the hit registered. His hand tightens to the point of strangulation as he cums inside you, burying himself deep at the hilt. He leans his forehead on your chest as the cum spurts out of his cock, painting your insides white. This is the closest you’ll ever get to being his.

He pulls out, climbs off of you, and leaves the room. You lay there for a second, catching your breath, basking in your post-orgasm haze. You shakily stand up and head into his bathroom, cleaning yourself up. You leave the dried spit and smeared mascara, knowing Suguru will like that more.

Once you return to his bed, he’s already lying down, a drink in hand. He isn’t even looking at you and all you can do is admire his beauty. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t understand how you got this lucky. You lay next to him, your head on his bicep as he stares out the window, deep in thought.

After a long, comfortable pause, you speak. “Suguru?”

He looks down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. “Yes?”

You lick your lips, fiddling with your hands. You pick at the skin around your thumbs when you get nervous, and your eye twitches as you break the skin once again. Finally, you speak, “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?” His eyes narrow for a second before he smiles, leaning down towards you. You feel his hot breath on your face and you bite your lip, wondering if this will be the day he finally kisses you.

He chuckles, pushing some hair out of your face. “What makes you think we’re soulmates in this one?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

am i okay? maybe

[keikikait]

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕤! 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕘𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝟙 𝕤𝕦𝕓! (choso x gojo x f!reader)

part 2 to my previous fic, which you can find here

pairing: camboy!choso x f!reader x fan!gojo (choso & reader are early to mid 20’s, gojo is mid to late 20’s)

word count: 1.2k

summary: sixeyedsatoru is your boyfriend’s top donator. well, whenever you’re on stream, anyway. for your boyfriend’s 2 year streaming anniversary, he decided to invite your biggest fan to join the next stream.

warnings: cam stuff, (kinda mean)dom!choso, (mean)dom!gojo, sub!reader, porn with very light plot, gojo gets a lil jealous, oral (m + f receiving [but f receiving is kinda short]), finger sucking lmao, nickname use [pretty girl, baby], use of cock and cunt, blindfolding (y’all…), degrading (use of slut), praise, clit pinching, spitroasting, spitting, cumming inside/slight breeding kink (mostly from gojo bye)

a note: as requested, my loves.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

[NEW MESSAGE FROM: deathpainting150]

{HAPPY 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY! this stream will feature my wonderful girlfriend, as well as @sixeyedsatoru, our top 1 sub! remember guys, minimum donation of ¥200 to avoid spam! <3}

“Fuck, man, hurry up.” Gojo says, shifting on the bed. “Taking so damn long.”

Choso rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, I had to set up two camera angles. You try it next time.” He hits the countdown on the stream and joins the two of you on the bed.

You’re laying on your back, looking up at Gojo’s smiling face. You didn’t know your #1 fan was one of the richest men in all of Japan. You also didn’t know he was this handsome. He’s absentmindedly playing with your tongue, swirling the pad of his thumb over it in circles.

The stream starts and people begin piling in.

Choso chuckles, fitting himself between your thighs on his stomach. He gives your inner thigh a kiss before addressing the viewers. “We got two cams today. Hope you all enjoy.”

You feel the eyes of 17,000 people on you and you squirm under the cameras. Gojo grips your chin tight in his hand. “Relax, pretty girl. We’ll take care of you.” He tilts your head up to meet your gaze. “There she is.”

Gojo starts fumbling with the button on his pants as Choso starts leaving teasing kisses on your clit. You whine at the contact, immediately going to run your hands through his hair. He let it out of his space buns today.

Gojo pulls his cock out and tilts your face to the right. “Open wide. Say aaah-there we go. Good girl.” He spits on the head before shoving in into your mouth and down your throat. You immediately gag and dig your freshly manicured nails into his thighs but he doesn’t let up. “Shhh. Be a good slut. Take it all…there we go.” He places his hands on the back of your head and pushes your head down even further.

Choso finally looks up from your cunt and tosses Gojo the blindfold he was wearing when you met up. You thought it was a little weird, but you didn’t think anything of it. You didn’t know it would come into play.

You try to push off of Gojo’s dick but he shoves your head back down. “Stop. Hold still.” He ties the blindfold around your head, completely hiding your vision. How the hell does he see out of this thing?

A familiar dading! fills the room and Choso reads out the donation.

[7to3sorcerer has donated ¥10,000! “Throatfuck her. I need to see her struggle.”]

You barely have time to process anything before Gojo is pushing your head down again. He grips your hair tight in a ponytail before guiding your head up and down his cock. It’s long, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You use a trick Choso taught you, putting your thumbs against your palms and squeezing, to try to stop your gagging.

Gojo notices this and grabs both of your wrists with his free hand. “No. I want you to be messy, pretty girl. C’mon, gag and struggle on my cock…there we go.” He holds your wrists tight as he guides your head up and down.

Choso pinches and rolls your clit between his fingers and you squirm, gagging on Gojo’s cock even more. Choso laughs, pinching your clit even harder. “Come on, baby. They’re paying good money to see you choke.”

Choso pulls your wrists out of Gojo’s grasp and brings your hands back to his hair. “Pay more attention to me, baby. Has Gojo-kun already fucked you stupid?” You grip Choso’s hair in response as he pushes his tongue into your cunt slowly.

The sensations are almost too much to bear. You feel yourself slowly going limp as the two men fight for dominance over your body.

Another dading! fills the room and Gojo reads out the donation.

[sukunadeeznuts has donated ¥15,000! “Come on. Turn her into a mindless slut.”]

You find that donation quite ironic, considering you’re already there. Gojo pushes your head down and holds your head there as he starts thrusting into your throat. You gag and gag, and it’s music to Gojo’s ears. “There we go…good girl, taking every inch. Maybe you’re not so fucking useless after all.” Gojo’s harsh words make your head spin and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

You whine and do grabby-hands at Choso as he suddenly pulls away from your clit. “I know baby, I know. Shush.” He sits up on his knees and pushes your legs back, the front of your thighs pressing into your chest. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Choso spits on your cunt. You moan and gag around Gojo’s cock as he slowly pushes himself in, letting you feel every inch. All of your senses are on overdrive, and your body feels like it’s vibrating. Choso spits again, on your clit this time, and slowly rubs it in small circles. “Fuck, man. You should feel how tight she gets whenever she gags.”

Gojo laughs. “I will. Right now I’m having too much fun fucking her little throat. Look at the spit gathering up…fuck.” The way they’re talking about you like you’re a toy makes your entire body shake.  It doesn’t take long, just a few thrusts and swirls on your clit before you’re cumming, squirming in Gojo’s grasp and clenching around Choso’s cock.

Choso groans. “Fuck, baby, fuck-good girl. Fuck.” You gargle a response, Gojo’s cock buried deep in your throat. Gojo feels something inside of him, almost like a twinge of jealousy. He should be the one making you cum, not Choso. Maybe after this stream he can convince you to run away with him to his apartment in Shibuya.

Another dading! fills the room and Choso struggles to read out the donation around his moans.

[ohmygodtheykilledkenny has donated ¥50,000! “if one of u fucks don’t cum in her i s2g.”]

You moan at the idea, clenching around Choso’s cock. You’re on birth control, that’s no secret, but Choso has never cum inside before. He likes to cum on your clit and swirl his fingers around it, mixing both of your releases together, saying something corny about ‘being closer this way’.

“Fuck,” Choso moans. “Fuck, Kenny, I’ll cum in her alright. Maybe I’ll even get her pregnant too.”

Gojo’s thighs tense up and he cums in your throat with no warning, cumming ropes and painting your throat. The thought of you pregnant was too much for him to bear, even if it isn’t his kid. In his mind it’s better that way anyway. You choke on the sheer amount of cum, it spilling from the corners of your mouth and dripping onto the bedsheets.

Choso’s eyebrows furrow when he sees you absolutely covered, drooling everywhere with red teary eyes, and he cums himself, gripping your hips so tight you know he’ll leave a bruise the next day.

He pulls out and watches his cum drip out of you. He grabs the camera from the tripod and gives your adoring fans a front row seat of your puffy cunt.

You pull of Gojo’s blindfold and sit up, dazed and fuzzy. The stream ends with a final dading! and you manage to read this one yourself.

[notzenin {new sub!} has donated ¥200! “no invite?”]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

i hope you all enjoyed it! be sure to send me some requests, my inbox is always open! :)

[keikikait]

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕤! 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕘𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝟚 𝕤𝕦𝕓! choso x f!reader

pairing: camboy!choso x f!reader (both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 879

summary: living in tokyo is tough, and it’s hard to make ends meet. while you took the more traditional route, working a fulltime job in retail, your boyfriend took the more…alternative approach, not that you minded. word got to his fans about his pretty little girlfriend, and suddenly you find yourself working with him.

warnings: cam stuff, (kinda mean)dom!choso, sub!reader, porn with literally zero plot, fingering, spanking, clit slapping/pinching (lightly), spitting (oop), use of ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’, dacryphilia (kind of), edging, slight degradation/name calling [bitch (just once), whore, slut], pet name use [baby, sweetheart]

a note: i’m gonna be pumping out some fics for a while since i have a lot of ideas. that being said, requests are open!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

[NEW MESSAGE FROM: deathpainting150]

{hopping on soon, this time with a special guest :-). remember guys, minimum donation of ¥200 to avoid spam! <3}

Choso was sitting with his back against the wall, long legs straight out in front of him with you bent over his lap, your cute ass right in frame, spread out for about 15,000 people.

You grip the bedsheets tight as his thumb swirls on your clit over your panties. There’s an obvious wetspot, he’s been playing with you absentmindedly as he was setting up the stream.

“Relax, baby.” He says, pressing his thumb down a little harder. “Wanna show everyone how good you are for me.” He pulls your panties down, the lace sitting around your knees.

Choso grips your asscheeks and spreads them. “Fuck.” He angles his head to get a better look at your spread cunt, still making sure to keep his face out of frame. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet, cunt’s so pretty and puffy…fucking hell.” He leans forward a little and spits on you, dribbling down your slit and dripping onto the bedsheets.

You whine and wiggle around. “Choso, please!”

He laughs, rolling your clit between his fingers. “What, baby? Come on, use your words. You know I don’t like it when you whine.” He pinches your clit for good measure, just to get his point across.

Your eyes roll back into your skull and your cunt clenches around nothing. “Please, fuck, please just touch me! I wanna cum so bad!” 

Choso ignores you, continuing to roll your clit around and occassionally pinching it. He loves having you like this; spread out over his lap, dripping everywhere, completely fucked out. Maybe if you were a good girl he would let you cum, too.

A loud dading! sounds through the room, signalling a donation.

[virtualpeaches has donated ¥1,000! “tease her a little bit more. make her cry.”]

Choso chuckles as he reads the donation aloud. “Oh, trust me, she’ll cry.” He rubs your clit with his thumb, occasionally dipping into your cunt just to tease you.

Another dading! sounds through the room.

[academicsallow has donated ¥5,000! “make the bitch beg 2 cum.”]

You barely even hear the next donation as Choso continues to tease your clit, barely even grazing it with his thumb. You get antsy and push your hips back directly onto his thumb, grinding your clit against it.

He laughs and presses down even harder, giving your asscheek a slap. “Fucking whore. Couldn’t even wait your turn, huh?” He lets you grind against his thumb, finding your neediness so adorable. 

He moves his other hand, draping his arm over your back and sinks two fingers into you. “Such a needy little thing. Grinding on my hand like I’m a fucking sextoy.” You push your hips back to meet his thrusts and he pulls his thumb away from your clit to spank you. “Who’s in charge here? You or me?”

When you don’t answer, he grips your hair at the root and tugs your head back. You finally stutter a response. “You! You’re in charge! ‘m sorry, Choso!”

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He coos at you, his voice condescending. “Fucking act like it.”

You nod pathetically and he lets go of your hair, bringing his thumb back to your clit. Your head drops onto the matress and you grip the sheets. More and more donations are coming in, and you can only wonder what they’re saying about you. Maybe Choso will show you after, just to humiliate you a little bit more.

That familiar feeling builds in your tummy. “Fuck, Choso, please-shit! I’m gonna cum!”

He chuckles, applying more pressure with his thumb. “Yeah? Little slut’s gonna cum for me, hmm?” 

You nod again, pushing your ass back towards him, and right as you get to the edge-

Choso stops.

He completely pulls his hands away, gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You whine and wiggle, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Choso!” You ball your fists and tears of frustration run down your cheeks.

He laughs, unable to take you seriously. “Shush, baby. You’ll get to cum soon.” He grabs your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “God, you look so pretty when you cry.”

“This isn’t fair!” You whine. “I’ve been a good girl!”

“I know you are,” He says. “But you aren’t in charge here, sweetheart, I am.” He lets go of your chin and goes back to rolling your clit between his fingers.

He straightens up a bit and reads through the chat. “If we make it to ¥60,000 I’ll let you cum, does that sound good baby?”

You shake your head. “I wanna cum now!” He ignores your protests, continuing to play with your clit. “Choso, please!”

He spanks you again. “Shush. Don’t make me gag you.”

You whine but lay there, like a good girl, as he continues to play with you.

Another dading! sounds through the room, and Choso reads this one aloud to you.

[sixeyedsatoru {tier 1 sub!} has donated ¥80,000! “Make her cum. I’ll donate another ¥20,000 if you use your cock.”]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

short n sweet, just how i like them. send in requests, por favor, give me some ideas.

pt 2 here