A Man's World âââ gojo satoru / reader
For years youâve envied Gojoâs strength. After a body swap curse strikes during a mission, you no longer have to.
CONTENT: 18+ body swap kink. afab jujutsu sorcerer reader, soft dom reader, canon universe, arguing as foreplay, one suicide joke in the second scene, frenemies, mutual masturbation, fingering and oral (gojo receiving in female body), riding, p in v sex, manhandling, unsafe sex, creampie, brief breeding kink mention, reader has very cheesy dirty talk. 13.3k wc.
MEL'S NOTE: criminally late but the final instalment of my kinktober is finally here! very proud to have finished it against all odds. this spiralled away from me bc who doesn't want the chance to dick this man down lmfao. req from the gorgeous @hisokamywaifu, i hope you enjoy lovely <3
âšâš KINKTOBER 2025 | GENERAL M.LIST | READ ON AO3
How unfair it is, the strength written into each limb you now command. Jealousy bubbles in the back of your throat until youâre choking on it, and you twist your fist in the front of your uniform to snarl down at Gojo.Â
âThis your fuckinâ fault,â you spit, hating the smug look heâs plastered on your face. You bare your teeth to communicate as much. âAlways gotta taunt the fuckinâ curses, huh, tough guy? Well look at where itâs landed us now!â
Shoving Gojo away, you barely suppress the urge to scream. Instead you gesture down at his body which, by some sardonic twist of fate, you possess to emphasise the predicament the two of you are trapped in. Gojo, in your fucking body, stumbles back a few gratifying steps before finding his balance among the wreckage of a conflict, heated until mere moments ago. Right before the curse you were fighting decided to vanish in a plume of smoky rubble. Closing the distance, you stalk forward.
Rage is all you can taste.
âYou gotta get us out of this mess, Gojo,â you say dangerously low, jabbing your finger into Gojoâsâyourâsoft chest. Fuck, youâre one moment away from snapping like a rubber band cooled too quickly. And you really donât know what the consequences will be when you can feel Gojo's power hiding from youâSix Eyes tucked deep in the recesses of his body. Youâre not keen to find out the damage a person can do when they wield the Gojo Clan power with all the training of a newborn baby. âWhat if the curse comes back, you imbecile?â
Gojo laughs, and the condescending peals of it ring high and shrill in the air.Â
Is that really what you sound like to other people?
âIt wonât come back,â Gojo states with an air of finality which would have you strangling the man if he werenât trapped inside your body.Â
âOh yeah? Care to enlighten me? Your partner on this mission who could just, I donât know⌠maybe, benefit from knowing such information,â you remind viciously, running anxiety-filled fingers through your hairâGojoâs hairâfuck this is really messing with your head, and why is it so soft? You half-pictured him to use some 19-in-1 crap which surely wouldnât achieve this silkiness. The attempt to ground yourself begins spiralling into panic. âI swear you fuckin' get off on being better than me or something, Gojo. Well, news flash! You are. Yet look where that genius brain of yours got us now. Nurture versus nature strikes again.âÂ
Gojo narrows his eyes at you, lips thinning at your attitude. This argument is going to be ugly. You can already tellâfeel the familiar stirring of it in your bones. Compelled by fury and determined to meet the nasty retort you know it coming head-on, you yank down the blindfold over your eyes without sparing a thought to the consequence.
A split second later you're on your knees. Accosted by walls of spasming lights and strange shapes, distorting and jumping through colours you donât recognise, and screeching rivers of particles persist in all directions and you can see sound, how can you fucking see sound? The air waves curl in front of Gojoâs mouth but you canât hear them, your brain existing somewhere beyond typical overstimulation as itâs confronted with information you simply cannot comprehend.Â
You curl up on the ground like a child and squeeze your eyes shut, no more than a decorated corpse. You are unaccompanied by even the presence of mind to pray your suffering will end soon. Only able to endure the atoms vibrating in your eyelids and the lights rotating past them, backlighting the infinite particles like a phantasmagoria designed for war torture.
Without warning, it dims considerably.
You inhale a rattling breath you weren't aware youâd been holding.Â
ââalright, itâsâ Look atâ Heyââ
Gojoâs voice reaches you in fragmented slices. It takes a lifetime for your heart to calm the war drum beat its imitating, and longer still for you to peel open your eyes. Gojo hovers on his haunches an arm's length from your trembling form, and stares down at you with your face. Thereâs a pinch in his eyebrows but that is the only, and likely unintentional, indicator to suggest he may be perturbed.
âLook at me,â Gojo says, uncharacteristically soft.
You wonder if the natural tone of your voice is deceiving you. There's no way he's actually worried. His ego has cursed you to this body, and while you always knew it would get him in deep shit one day, you simply weren't prepared to be dragged down with him.
You exhale, still curled up pathetically on the ground. âI am.â
Itâs the truth. At some point during your panic, Gojo must have slipped the blindfold back over your eyes, rendering him unable to follow your gaze. His own tracks your expression. For a moment he's silent. Then, he's fishing your phone out of his pocket, unlocking it with your face identification, and tapping on it impatiently.
The rings of a call pierce the air and you vaguely recognise Ijichi's voice lilting across the line in your exhaustion. You can do no more than lay there and watch Gojo's lips move.
At the beep of a call hung up, Gojo turns to you resolutely. "I'll sort this out."
â
In the staff common room, you're currently hovering in an armchair and debating the likelihood of you reaching it before the year is out.
You see, Gojo's Limitless technique decided to activate as soon as you lugged your ass out of the transport vehicle when it dropped you back on campus. Now you're finding out you took sitting for granted as you float approximately a couple of inches atop the actual chair cushion. Sceptically, you eye the sight. Doubt about your ability to control the Six Eyes only increasing each second you remain suspended in the air.
âThis fuckinâ sucks,â you complain, tipping your head back into, surprise, the air above the chairâs backrest. âCanât sit down, canât drink a fuckinâ coffeeâwhich Iâm desperate for by the way, canât go for aââ
âPlease shut up,â Yaga monotones, cutting you off and taking a pointed sip of what you know to be coffee in his mug. Bastard. âComplaining will not help your situation.â
âOh and silence will?â you bite, glaring at the best principal decal printed on the ceramic instead of Yaga himself.Â
You may be mad but you're not suicidal.
âMaybe then I'll be able to have a productive thought about how to get us out of this mess,â Gojo pipes up in your light voice. Slouched on a wooden chair nearby, heâs mindlessly watching one of his manicured fingers trace shapes on the table. Like a baby captivated by a cheap, plastic galaxy spinning above its head. âA foreign concept for you, Iâm aware.â
You scoff, flipping his back your middle finger. Childish? Sure. But itâs not like you can actually hit him in your current predicament so you have to settle for the small win.Â
âHow long are we gonna be stuck like this?â you press, ignoring both their requests for silence. âI keep tripping over your lanky fuckinâ legs, Gojo, stumbling like a new born deer or some shit, and this blindfold is makinâ me feel claustrophobic, and I kind of have to pee but I also really do not want to face that right now,â you ramble, leg bouncing with anxiety. âAnd if I have to touch your dick I might just kill myself to save everyone the trouble.â
You blow out a breath when the words stop their mad dash from your mouth. Noticing the barely-there smile Yaga is hiding behind his mug, and the way Gojo is snickering into the palm of his hand, a frustrated sound rips itself from your throat. Soon youâre going to blow a fuse and then theyâll really be sorry.Â
âIâm serious!â you yell. âI do not want to touch your dick, Gojo!â
âAlright, alright,â Gojo laughs, palms lifted in surrender. âI get it⌠though I would love to be a fly on the wall. Watch you figure out how to piss with a cock.â
âSatoru,â Yaga warns, shooting Gojo a reproachful look.
âStop acting like itâs some revered skill,â you snap, curling your lip up at the crudeness of his statement. âItâs a fuckinâ dick, Gojo, not rocket science.â You run a hand back through your short hair, tugging slightly at the strands in frustration. âGod, you are genuinely insufferable. Yaga, please, let me go home! If I spend anymore time with this moron Iâm going to lose braincells and it wonât be me who suffers the consequences considering whoâs fuckinâ body Iâm trapped in!â
âYou know I canât do that,â Yaga counters mildly, fingers flexing around his mug.
âI am going to kill him,â you emphasise, waving a frantic hand through the air in the vague direction of Gojo. âAnd heâs in my body!â
Yaga opens his mouth to reply but Gojo stands and cuts him off with an infurating whistled tune, as though he's jumped straight from a fourties cartoon. You mime a gag and Gojo's sharp eyes slide to you scornfully.
It's all you can do to not appear too pleased by the reaction.
And as it turns out, Gojo has that covered for you also; next to Yaga, your body looks much shorter than it feels when youâre in it. The height difference only highlighted from your foreign perspective.
Bristling at the wound to your ego, you sniff and turn away from the sight. You never noticed the corner of the staffroom has cobwebs.
âWhy donât I go back with her?â Gojo asks Yaga. When you flash them a brief glance, inevitably unable to keep your gaze from the bane of your existence for long, Gojo is looking up at the principal, yet somehow still managing to carry a general air of superiority that defies your stature. You fight back the urge to jam your fingers into your eyesockets. âI can keep an eye on her until Shoko gets back from Okinawa tomorrow, and then I can bring her in and weâll reevaluate if long-term adjustments need to be made.âÂ
âIâm not a fuckinâ dog, you prick,â you mutter, jaw tense. ââBring her in,â who the fuck do you think you are?â
âLanguage,â Yaga chides, though you know by now it's more habit than formality. He ponders the idea for a moment and you shoot Gojo a nasty look while Yaga is distracted. Gojo sticks his tongue out at you back. Child, you think spitefully. âThat could work,â Yaga agrees eventually. âThereâs nothing more we can do without Shoko, unfortunately, but we also canât afford to split the two of you at the moment with the danger of Six Eyes on a slack leash.â
âPerfect! So itâs settled then,â Gojo chirps, an awful grin on his face. Time slows to a stop as he claps his hands and beckons you forward in one sharp motion. âHeel.â
Your jaw drops.Â
âBut,â Yaga interrupts pointedly, waving a placating hand in your direction and now you really do feel like a dog. Gojoâs glee may as well be written on his face with black permanent marker for how obvious it is. âYou must teach her to control it, Satoru, as best she can,â Yaga continues, voice grave. You both stiffen and turn to listen to him carefully. âWorst case scenario, youâre both trapped for an undetermined length of time. We cannot risk anything.â
Nodding absently, youâre already distracted by the concept of being stuck in Gojoâs body indefinitely. Itâs nasty talons latch onto your brain and hold tight. Bile rises into your throat. And you're pretty sure your racing heart may be an early sign of cardiac arrest.
Probably nothing to worry about right now.
Yet if you die in this body, what happens to you? Does your consciousness zip back into your own body like rebooting a troublesome computer? Or would it only trap Gojo in your body for the rest of its lifespan and you'd be left to face whatever the afterlife entails for people with morally grey compasses and high curse body counts, leaving Gojo to run wild while most everyone will believe it to be you?
God, what a horrible thought.
âMake sure the blindfold stays on at all times,â Yaga utters, and you can sense the dismissal.Â
Rising to your feet, you make sure to stare down the slope of your nose at Gojo disdainfully before snapping your head forward and striding out of the room. Like hell youâre going to let him lead. His quiet footfalls echo behind you, but mercifully he is silentâperhaps plagued by the same fear.Â
How long could you be trapped in this body?
â
âI wasnât joking about havinâ to pee,â you grumble as you step through the threshold to your flat with Gojo in tow.Â
âI know you werenât,â Gojo replies blandly, gaze sweeping the organised chaos you live in. You hear him kick the door closed behind you. âI needed a piss at the start of the mission. Real unfortunate timing, all things considered.â
Against the entrance walls, books are piled up haphazardly thanks to your bad habit of buying more novels than youâll be able to read in ten lifetimes. You toe Gojoâs shoes off to join the stacks carelessly, not bothering to prompt Gojo to do the same before you round the corner into your kitchen.
Let him figure out the tiny buckles of your shoes by himself, you think sadistically. Serves him right.
But then you have to duck to get through the doorway and it's as though Gojo's miraculously cashed in his karma paycheck early. You kiss your teeth in irritation, feeling oversized in your cramped flat for the first time in all the years you've lived here.Â
Your annoyance only worsens when Gojo's Limitless doesn't allow you to grab the fridge handle. You freeze. Try to control your breathing. And ultimately fail when your stomach pangs with hunger.
âHow the fuck did your parents manage?â you call out to Gojo, frustration melding into bafflement at the reality of your situation. âSurely they couldnât touch you?â
A crash instantly followed by a yelp of pain rings out from the hallway, and you get your answer as Gojo pads around the corner in pantyhose-clad feet.Â
âMy parents told me it used to activate randomly when I was a baby.â He doesnât spare you a glance, breezing past to tug open the fridge like he hadn't just let out the most pathetic squeal you've ever heard. You canât find the energy to stop him. âBut most often when I was upset, or scaredâwhen I was crying mainly, I guess. Must've been difficult for a baby to comprehend the entire universe and all. You know. You saw it. And they used to have servants check constantly if Iâd released the technique so that they could feed me or hold me.â
You stew on the information, watching Gojo select a Yakult, peel off the foil lid, and drop it on your countertop like he owns the place.
On paper, he does anyway. And isnât that a strange thought.Â
âApparently I learnt to control it by 10 months. And by the time I was almost 2, I was consciously turning it on and off so that my parents couldnât stop me from climbing on the furniture or put me to bed if I wanted to stay awake.â Gojo laughs, as though recalling memories he canât possibly remember.Â
âSo you were a nightmare child,â you surmise, raising an eyebrow.Â
âIâd argue I was pretty cute,â Gojo offers, tipping his head back to swallow the last drops. You eye the motion, still finding it jarring to be seeing your own mouth move every time Gojoâs words grate in the air. âAnd either way, youâre being shown up by that little 2 year old me, so you should probably be feeling more worried about that than what my parents had to deal with.â
Scowling, you swipe a hand through the air to dismiss the half-baked insult. In the safety of your home, you find yourself slightly lost as to what to do, standing uselessly in the middle of the kitchen as a result. Youâre unable to touch anything and that means you canât drink or eat or sit down. Where does that leave you? Cursed to isolation until this is fixed?Â
âCâmon,â Gojo murmurs, âa little curse and you lose all your fire? Lame.â
ââA little curse?ââ you repeat incredulously.
A grin splits Gojo's lips as though he was waiting for the precise reaction you just provided. Not for the first time, you wish you had the forethought to not retaliate to his provocations. But it's like he has an instruction manual detailing precisely how to push your buttons. There's no other rational explanation.
Gojo's head tilts. âYep. And honestly⌠I donât even think you could win a fight right now.â
You lean against the countertop behind you and drag your gaze down Gojoâs form. The familiar curves under your uniform, your tits, pressed together where Gojo is crossing his arms, and your face, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat. Gojo mimics you, leaning on the fridge and raking his eyes down your form in kind. You fight not to fidget under his gaze, though you donât know why. Itâs not like you feel self conscious or anythingâthis isnât your body.Â
You hum, non-committal. âProbably not. Though youâre forgetting that you canât use my technique either.â
âAh, but I am quite positive yours will be easy to wrangle,â he replies, turning his hand to inspect your nails.Â
Something ugly unfurls in your chest at the jab. Everyone feels inadequate when confronted with the power Gojo holdsâitâs a fact of life. But the notion still stings, wedged under your skin deep enough you cannot remove it, deep enough it bleeds into your words.Â
âPerhaps,â you concede, loathing coating the back of your teeth. âBut what if we didnât use our techniques?â
Gojoâs eyebrows furrow.Â
âIâm saying, what if it was a battle of pure strength?â you explain with a careless shrug.
On your best and your worst days, you despise acknowledging that Gojo can beat you in hand-to-hand combat. Now is no different, and you tuck your hands behind your back casually so you can dig your nails into your palms to ground yourself. You can feel the strong muscles lining your arms shift with the movement.Â
âI would win.â
âYouâre in my body, though,â Gojo questions, looking at you like youâre stupid.
Anger simmers deep and low in your gut.Â
âSo now semantics matter to you?â you ask, pushing yourself away from the countertop. âI thought you just claimed youâd beat me using my technique, Gojo.â
âAnd I would.â
âBut you wouldnât without,â you press, walking closer. Gojo watches you curiously until you stop a pace away from him. You could reach your arm out and touch him if his own Limitless wouldnât stop you from doing so. âAdmit it.â
Gojo frowns, staring up at you.Â
âAdmit you couldnât beat me,â you breathe, taking another step closer. You can see the specks dotting your eyes now. Gojo's blindfold and bright hair reflecting back at you like a funhouse mirror. The air thickens between you both, and you shove your hands in your pockets, feigning nonchalance. You feel wrongâout of place in his hulking body as you stare down at your ownâbut Gojo has no way of knowing this if you don't clue him into it. âAdmit that I could have you how I wanted in a heartbeat.â
âAwfully presumptuous of you,â Gojo murmurs, eyes flicking between your own. Recognition sparks in his gaze and he seems to be debating whether to play along.
âNot really.â You itch to reach out. Knowing you physically canât only makes the urge more irritating. âHavenât you ever been curious, Gojo? About what itâs like to be a woman?â
âHasnât every man?â he retorts. Gojo tips his head back against the fridge and his eyes turn lidded, glued to yours. As though he knows where they are even through your blindfold. Perhaps he does. Itâs his own eyes heâs seeking out, after all.Â
âMhm. Not every man gets the opportunity to actually find out, though.âÂ
The corner of Gojoâs mouth quirks up. âLucky me.â
The reality of your situation falls back atop your shoulders. Sudden as a strike of lightning. When the thunder claps, you knock your forehead onto the fridge above him, or try to, at least. Instead, your face stops an inch away from the metal, close enough that you wonder if you might be making subconscious progress adapting to Gojoâs powers.Â
âI gotta pee.â
Gojo laughs.Â
â
This might be the pinnacle of humiliation youâve experienced to date. Knowing that Gojo is just outside the bathroom and listening only makes it that much more excrutiating.
âLet me come in and help!â Gojo calls through the door.
âNo! Justââ you growl, frustrated. âGive me a damn minute I canât focus knowing youâre right outside.â
âYou donât want me to talk you through it?â
âHell no!â you shout, pinching your nose bridge.Â
You exhale once, taking a moment to bolster your courage, before you tug Gojoâs zipper down in one smooth movement. You can see the light grey boxers he has on, and the vague outline of his soft cock underneath and you pull your hand away like youâve been burnt.Â
âBe nice to him!â Gojo says, followed by a thunk that tells you he just put his forehead on the bathroom door.Â
âFreak,â you mutter under your breath, still staring down at your open fly.
âI heard that.â
âStop listening!â you snap. âWhat the fuck, man!â
âIâm dying out here, pleaseeee can I come in?â he moans through the wood.Â
âNo!â
âPretty please.â
âGojoâŚâ you sigh.
âI can hold it for you.â
For a moment, you consider it. You could close your eyes, take the quickest piss of your life, and come out of the experience unscathed considering you wonât have touched Gojoâs dick. Then reality strikes.Â
âLimitless, dumbass,â you say.Â
âOh shit.â Gojoâs muffled voice sounds surprised. âI forgot about that for a sec, wow! Very unlike me.â
âClose your ears.â
Thatâs all the warning both of you get before you grit your teeth, pull the waistband from your hips, and lift Gojoâs cock out with a limp, reluctant hand.Â
Donât look, donât look, donât look.
And then you realise, how the fuck are you going to piss without looking?Â
You worry your lip as your eyes study the ceiling.Â
Maybe thereâs muscle memory to this kind of thing? You really donât want Gojo's piss all over your bathroom floor thoughâŚ
âYouâre awfully silent in there for someone who claimed that pissing with a dick wouldnât be rocket science.â
âFuck off, Iâm gettinâ there!â you bite. âGod, this is the worst.â
âYouâre telling me. Youâve got a whole different view down here. I feel like Iâm in Honey, I Shrunk The Kids.â
âPrick. Iâm not that short!" You sigh before admitting, "I do love that movie though."
âIt's a classic," Gojo offers. "And no you're not. I'm just stupidly tall."
That, at least, you can agree with. Stupidly arrogant, too.
Gojo continues. âYou still havenât pissed.â
âI donât think I can,â you mumble pathetically, feeling the heavy weight of his soft dick in your hand and wanting to crawl out of your skin. âI might just wait until I piss myself. Is it too late to get a catheter?â
âYouâre disgusting,â Gojo complains. You can practically hear the frown in his lips. âAnd youâre going to give me a UTIâŚâ
âWouldnât be as bad as havinâ to touch your dick, I can tell you that much.â
âYou wound me,â Gojo croons, and you can hear his back sliding down the door. Settling on the floor as though he knows youâll both be here for a while. âPersonally, Iâm looking forward to going for a piss.â
Your face curls up in disgust and you whip your head to face the door as though Gojo will be able to feel you glaring through the wood.Â
âThereâs something seriously wrong with you. That is so violating.â
âSorry,â Gojo says, not sounding particularly sorry at all.Â
You huff, scrubbing an eye with the heel of your big hand.Â
You can do this.
â
Turns out, pissing with a dick was decidedly not rocket science once you got over the tiny, minor detail of whoâs dick you were holding. Once you're finished, you don't stick around to offer moral support as Gojo shoulders past you into the bathroom. You try not to cringe when you think about him seeing the plain cotton panties you threw on this morning when you had to rush out of your flat, or the unruly bush you were due to trim this weekend.
It truly doesnât matter. Not when you have bigger issues. Namely the whole stuck-possibly-for-the-rest-of-time-in-Gojo's-body situation.
Youâre hovering on your couch again when Gojo returns a suspiciously long few minutes later. He has a small, pleased smile on his face and you scowl. Staring down at your knuckles rapping against your thigh, you urge yourself to not picture what he was doing in the bathroom to look so self-satisfied. Pervert.
âRight then,â Gojo sighs loudly, sinking into an armchair across from you. âI should probably teach you how to control Limitless now that youâve mastered pissing. Itâs the next logical step.â
You roll your eyes. âAnd Yagaâs order,â you tack on.Â
Gojo waves a hand through the air as though to dismiss the importance of your reminder.Â
âSix Eyes is innately active,â he starts immediately, not waiting for your attention. You wish you could ignore him, but the way you're still hovering in the air closes any well-worn paths to such petty vengeance. âThink of it like the sun. We canât turn the sun off, canât kill it, canât cover it up. The best we can do is cover ourselves.â Gojo nods towards where itâs wrapped around your head. You hum your acknowledgement. âBut Limitless is like a light bulb. I can turn it on and off whenever I want.â
Already bored, you kick your legs out in front of you and tap your foot on the air surrounding the corner of your low coffee table for something to do. Gojo ignores the soundless action, but you see the corner of his jaw twitch in annoyance.Â
âAnd Six Eyes is what enables Limitless. I can only manipulate what I can see.â He spreads his palms wide and swings them around the room. You squint at them, eyeing the veins pumping blood beneath your skin and the delicate woven fibres of your uniform cuff visible even through your blindfold. It's jarring, and invasive, and perhaps it's no wonder Gojo acts the way he does afterall. You might too if you could unveil a person's heart through no more than existing. âDo you see where Iâm going with this?â Gojo questions expectantly.Â
You bite your lip in contemplation and drag time out while you pretend to think. Really, youâre just watching the tiny hairs on Gojoâs face sway in a breeze you canât feel.Â
âNope,â you reply after too long, popping the p sound carelessly.Â
âYou have to look,â Gojo stresses, leaning forward in his chair towards you. âSee the world around you, see the infinite space Limitless has created, and stitch the divide back together.â
âWell then, if itâs that easy,â you say sarcastically. âIâll give it a shot.â
Halting the tapping of your foot, you cross your arms and stare down at your legs intently. Youâre expecting the gap between your thighs and the sofa cushion to be highlighted or some bullshit, like an object in a video game the developers didnât want you to miss. But thereâs nothing. You can see what you think may be air particles, countless atoms continuously melding together, then you stare at them long enough that you start second guessing yourself.Â
âI see it!â you say instead, looking up at him excitedly.
Gojoâs eyebrows fly up to his hairline, and your mouth twists horribly as you try not to laugh. âReally?â he asks, equally thrilled.Â
âObviously not, dumbass,â you scoff, resuming the tapping of your foot once more. Gojoâs face drops and then he scowls at you a beat later when you tack on, âYouâre kind of a shitty teacher, just so you know.â
âYeah, well, youâre a shitty student.âÂ
âAh,â you tut, shaking your head condescendingly at him. âA bad workman always blames his tools.â
âYouâre definitely a tool, alright,â Gojo retorts, voice tight.
Despite yourself, you laugh. âThis is a lost cause. Letâs just wait for Shokoâs opinion tomorrow, huh? Cut our losses while we still can.â
âAs much as I would love to do that,â Gojo begins, tilting his head. You kiss your teeth at his lie, because Gojo would never abandon a chance to humiliate you. âI seem to recall someone saying âYagaâs orders,â earlier.â
Gojoâs expression is challenging, and every inch of his posture screams at you to bolt. You stay rooted to the air above your seat in defiance of your own instincts as you stare at the man currently captaining your body.Â
When you donât reply, Gojo blows out a sharp, frustrated breath and crosses his legs. âWork with me here,â he pleads. âJust try. Properly. Donât half-ass it.â
You open your mouth to retort, but the gentle shake of his foot stops you. It almost looks like a nervous tick, and as quickly as your eyes dart to it, does his foot still.Â
âFine,â you concede. "Be quiet.âÂ
Gojo merely purses his lips and gestures at you lazily as though to say go on, then.Â
Squinting as though it will help funnel Six Eyes, you focus all your attention on your foot still knocking into the air by the leg of your coffee table. It takes a few minutes to filter out Gojoâs disruptive presence. Even silent, heâs impossible to ignore. But, eventually, he begins drifting and youâre left with the shape of your foot, visible through the thousands of tiny cracks in Gojoâs leather shoes. You can see the air particles in your shoeâin between your toes, beneath the arch of Gojoâs foot.Â
The air undulates, disturbed in ripples where your foot shakes. Like a stone thrown into a pond. Your lips form a circle and you slowly breathe out, letting everything fall away from you. Only then, can you see it. It being the gap, for lack of a better word you can't currently find. The⌠space. Like a void, stretching almost imperceptibly between each atom, bonded or unbonded. And then infinity comes into view. Atoms around your foot warped in a way making it impossible for you to ever hit the table leg when you begin to near it.Â
The sound of your foot almost connecting with the coffee table is muffled, but you hear it still. Perhaps another feature of Gojoâs enhanced senses, or maybe a trick of the mind. It falls quiet again, and you sooth your heart and your mind and pinch the edges of infinity, drawing them together.Â
ThenâŚ
Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.Â
You glance up at Gojo in amazement, mouth spread into a wide smile. He returns one of his own, oddly sincere. You only consider how strange the feeling is, Gojo being almost⌠proud of you, for a fleeting moment before you release it and embrace the success.Â
âHoly shit,â you breathe quietly. âHoly shit.â
The rhythmic tapping echoes in your flat, sure and steady. You tip your head down and coax the infinity wrapped around you closed, sealing it like the folds of a letter. Your thighs touch the sofa. Then your back. You pat along the cushions disbelievingly and then laugh.Â
You did it. You fucking did it.Â
âAtta girl,â Gojo murmurs encouragingly. âI knew you had it in you.â
You truly have no idea how to unpack the tightness in your chest at his statement.
So you don't bother trying.
âFuck yeah I do,â you grin instead. And if the tapping of your foot speeds up, well thatâs no one's business bar your own. âNever doubted myself for a moment!â
Gojo scoffs, but it isnât entirely mean. Not anymore. âHistory is rewriting itself right before my eyes. Is this how Winston Smith felt?â
You tilt your head back against the sofa, relaxing your body for the first time since you were both swapped. âYour Six Eyes has gotten way too much credit throughout history,â you say into the air.Â
âYours,â Gojo replies lightly. âFor the time being, at least.â
Totally not a daunting thought at all.
You swallow uneasily, the corners of your mouth curling at the reminder.Â
âAre you focusing on keeping it together?â Gojo asks.Â
You shake your head, still talking to the ceiling. âNah. I donât know how long itâll last but I mustâve closed it enough for now.â
Gojo hums thoughtfully. âYou might wanna close your legs while youâre at it too.â
âHuh?â You make a questioning noise in the back of your throat and tip your head back down. All at once, you can feel your face light on fire.
Youâre hard.
Hard.
Youâve somehow made Gojoâs dick⌠hard.
Great. Perfect.
This is just what you wanted to immortalise this humiliating experience. And you donât close your legsâcanât close your legsâas you stare despondently at the sight. Slowly piecing together the feeling of an erection to what youâre seeing.
âUhhhhââ
âIâm afraid I canât teach you how to control that,â Gojo states, voice overflowing with mirth. Heâs staring too, gaze darting between the stunned look on your face and the tent in your slacks. âThere is one way to deal with it thoughâŚâ he teases.Â
Groaning, you bury your face in your hands and slump further down on the sofa. Now that youâre aware of it, you can feel your crotch throbbing. The warm but unfamiliar pressure of arousal tingling in your core. When you shift, the folds of your slacks brush over your erection and you hiss.Â
âHow long?âÂ
Gojo understands what youâre indirectly asking.
You can almost hear it in his voice when he shrugs. âLong enough. Quicker if you think about something gross.â
Something gross. Okay. You can do something gross. The smacking sound of people chewing with their mouths wide open. Bug carcasses squished into the pavement. Wet socks. Gojo. His gross personality. The stupid, condescending cadence of his voice. His cock, filling out between your thighs. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
You peek out from between your fingers. Gojo shifts in his seat as he stares at your crotch, legs crossed tightly. If you didnât know any better youâd say he was squirming.Â
Waitâ
Narrowing your eyes, you can see his thighs tense and relax. Hips ever, ever so gently rocking back and forth. Itâs so subtle you wouldnât have spotted it if not for your Six Eyes. You can see the particles around him moving away in small ripples. You can see the blood thundering through his veins. And even without Six Eyes, you can see his dilated irises.Â
âYouâre turned on,â you accuse, jailing your hands on your thighs so you wonât be tempted to touch. âWhy are you turned on?â
âIââ Gojo flounders, caught. âI donât. Uh, know⌠exactlyâŚâ
âWow,â you spit. âYou are such a fuckinâ pervert, oh my god.â
âWow⌠thatâs rich coming from you!â Gojo protests indignantly. âYou are literally hard right now.â
âThis could be a fluke!â you insist. âI wasnât even turned on,â you lie. âMaybe itâs just because I released Limitless.â
âThatâs not how it works,â Gojo replies, but he doesnât argue any further.Â
âYou have no excuse though,â you push, voice pitching higher and higher. âYouâre so conceited itâs insane. Who gets turned on by themselves?!âÂ
âMe, clearly!â Gojo shouts, throwing his arms up in the air helplessly.Â
âYeah, fuckinâ clearly!âÂ
Silence.Â
Youâre both glaring at one another, locked in a battle of wills. Refusing to back down. Refusing to give in. Apparently, though, your brain doesnât get the same memo.Â
âWhat does it feel like?âÂ
It takes you a few long seconds to realise it was you whoâd spokenâyou who'd asked such an uncomfortably intimate question. You cringe at the perplexed expression Gojo has plastered on your face.Â
âWhat?â Gojo snaps.Â
âIs it differentâŚâ you start uneasily, confused as to why youâre so fixated on knowing the answer to what is objectively a pointless question. You know what it feels like. You've felt it first hand. Nothing in your life is going to change if you hear Gojo's answer but still you desire to hear it. âFrom the feeling. In your own body?â
âBeing turned on?â he asks slowly.
You nod, careful, afraid to speak up again.Â
âYeah,â he breathes after a moment. His face is grim, as though accepting his fate. âItâs⌠everywhere. Not only whereâd youâd expect it. I guess. It's in my, uh, my stomach. My toes, too. And it's warm. Kinda tingly. Hot. I feel⌠overheated.â
You recall the feeling all too well.Â
âYou?â
And this time itâs your face that pinches. You sigh, knowing youâre now morally obligated to answer.Â
âI can feel the, uh, the blood. Pulsing almost. Like a wound.â You swallow nervously. âItâs kind of uncomfortable,â you say, parting with the words reluctantly. âExpectant almost. Like right before a sneeze. When all that tension builds up.â
When you fall silent again, Gojo nods.Â
âI can teach you,â he says suddenly.Â
âYou can⌠teach me?â you echo dumbly. Then, when he merely hums you repeat his words again in shock, "You can teach me."
Why are you considering it? Why are you considering it?
A small smirk crosses Gojo's face, a blink-and-you-miss it expression you unfortunately didn't miss.
This is wrong. Unethical, surely. It must cross countless lines that HR have carefully laid out for colleagues in Jujutsu Tech. Breach so many contracts itâs laughable. Thereâs truly no reason you should be giving his offer the time of day.
But then again the Jujutsu Tech contract only stipulates interwork relationships. Ones where, presumably and logically, each party occupies their own body. While it has been a hot minute since you read through it, you don't recall anything discouraging such relations for colleagues who've had their bodies swapped.
Someone has to set the precedent.
âOkay,â you agree.
Gojoâs lips quirk up, as though heâs privy to the internal battle you just lost. âOkay,â he repeats.Â
Neither of you move.Â
Your foot speeds up. A rapid, thumping, tap tap tap tap tap filling the space between you.Â
âYou first,â you nod at him.Â
Gojoâs expression morphs into confusion. âMe first?â
âIâllâŚâ Your sentence trails off before itâs even properly begun. You swallow and try again. âIâll teach you. Too.âÂ
âWill you now?â he asks coyly.Â
You huff, the familiarity of such teasing relaxing you, even though youâre near positive that wasnât his intention. âI will,â you affirm, calmer now.Â
âWell then, Sensei. Take it away.âÂ
Biting your lip, you gesture at his legsâyour legsâbefore speaking. âPantyhose off.â
Gojo doesnât hesitate, but his actions are clumsy and unpractised. He tucks his fingers under the waist band of your skirt and tries to awkwardly roll the pantyhose down under the fabric until he canât wedge his forearm any further. Huffing, he yanks his arm back and shoves it under your skirt, grabbing the bunched up material and pulling it down to his knees. You hear the painful sound of your tights ripping and wince.Â
âThose were new, assholeâŚâ you grumble, already mourning your recent purchase and the future one you now have to make.Â
âDonât care,â Gojo replies, clearly distracted as he tries to free one foot from the material, then the other, before throwing them straight at you. They land on your face and drop into your lap. You brush them aside. âThey should invent pantyhose that arenât impossible to get off.â
You hum dismissively, focused on your bare legs and the cotton panties you can see peaking out from beneath your skirt, slightly rucked up from his efforts. Itâs beyond bizarre to see yourself from this angle. To see what previous hook-ups have seen.
No wonder you canât seem to shake them off afterwards.
You look good.Â
âYou need patience to⌠get off, as a woman.â Adjusting yourself awkwardly, you try to ignore the throbbing in your crotch. Gojoâs fingers twitch impatiently where theyâre resting on the arms of his chair. âNot everything feels good. Itâs⌠experimental, I guess? It can take a long time to learn what your body likes.â
âItâs a good job that I have an experienced teacher, then,â Gojo murmurs.Â
You tilt your head once in agreement. âI suppose it is.âÂ
This is so weird. So fucking weird. But you canât seem to tame the part of you that is deathly curious to see how far you both will take it.
âYou can start by. Uh, touching. Yourself. Over the fabric.â
Gojoâs smaller fingers come to rest over the skirt and press the fabric down, until folds of it are gathered in his crotch. He rubs them experimentally, before shooting you a mild glare. âI canât feel anything.â
Meanwhile, youâre busy trying to muffle a laugh into your shoulder. âNoââ You fail, a chuckle falling into the air. Gojo bristles, though you can tell the action isnât wholly serious. You try again. âYouâ over your underwear.â
Your underwear.
Even when the words leave your mouthâas though your panties are truly Gojoâs, and your body is truly hisâthey donât feel wrong. Not like they did earlier. When every action Gojo had taken in your body, inconsequential or not, felt like a premeditated, personal attack.Â
A look of understanding dawns on Gojoâs face. âRight!â
Yanking the hem of your skirt up until it bunches around his waist, he slumps further down in the chair. Youâre only allowed a second to gawk at his lack of embarrassment before heâs lifting a foot up onto the sofa beneath his ass, dropping his other knee further to the side, and cautiously running his middle finger up your panties.Â
âUhhââ you start unthinkingly, before snapping your mouth shut when you realise you canât remember what you wanted to say.
Gojo only spares you a glance at the sound and then heâs looking back down at his fingers, drawing a strange path down to your perineum and circling there. You watch his nostrils flare and his eyebrows scrunch in concentration. Then, his thumb brushes up and you can almost feel the phantom sensation when it catches on his clit. He exhales sharply, and immediately zeroes in on it, dragging his thumb back and forth in short, quick swipes.Â
âThis is so weird,â Gojo breathes.Â
âYeah.â You canât look away. âYeah, it is.â
As though his strings have been cut, Gojo falls limp against the back of the armchair and slings his propped up foot over the armrest, clearly trying to get a better angle.Â
âLittle circles feel good,â you offer quietly.Â
You watch as he obediently brings his pointer and middle finger up to start rolling them in small circles around his clit, and you definitely watch as he gasps at the feeling, jaw clenching.
âYour turn now,â Gojo says, pleasure twisting your voice into a strange, wobbly thing. Like mist drifting by on an early morning.Â
In all honesty, you forgot this was the deal. You really didn't expect Gojo getting off in your own body to be so captivating, but here you are. Drinking in every little minute reaction your body has like youâve never seen them before.
The way your toes twitch.
The slight tremble in your bottom lip.
The stuttered rise and fall of your chest.
You canât tell what is thanks to Gojo and what can be attributed to your own body, but at this point it doesnât matter. Not when you can feel yourself achingly hard at each sight all the same.Â
Wordlessly, you unbutton Gojoâs pants and yank the zipper down, unwillingly to let your gaze leave the man in front of you. Your big, warm palm lands on your crotch and you grasp the length of him. Feeling along it curiously. Only then do you look down, confirming what you were too afraid to do in the bathroom earlier.Â
Heâs big.Â
Gojo laughs breathlessly across from you. Your neck snaps up to shoot him a glare and you find him already staring at you.Â
âStroke the tip.â
Spreading your legs further, you dip your fingers down to fondle his balls curiously, feeling the dull sparks of pleasure. You drag your touch up his cock. Mapping out the path before gently bringing down your thumb to brush over the head of his cock as instructed.Â
âOhââ You repeat the motion, breath catching in your chest.Â
âWhat did you tell me?â Gojo asks, and when you look at him dumbly in question, he doesnât bother waiting before answering himself. âLittle circles.â
You press harder at the confirmation your touch feels good, and start rubbing your thumb over the head repetitively. Itâs only a matter of seconds before your shoulders tense and your mouth drops open. It feels good. Really good, in fact. And you can see arousal slowly darkening the light grey of his underwear in response. You can feel yourself leaking. So different from the sensation you are used to. You gasp.Â
Itâs hard to remember why you were so disgusted earlier. Not when you can feel his dick twitching under your touch, nor when youâre reaping the benefitsâswimming in hot pleasure.
âThis is so muchâ easierâ what the fuckââ
Gojo merely hums, and then you hear a rustle. He lifts both legs up into the air and drags your panties off in one smooth motion. He brings the material up to his nose and breathes in deeply. You wrinkle your own nose.Â
âGross.â
âI'm so wet,â he says in wonder.Â
Gojo drops the panties on his chest and splays his legs back out, fingers quickly dipping into your arousal as though to emphasise his words.Â
âSurprised?â you ask. âDonât tell me this is your first time getting a girl wet, Gojo.â
âShut up,â he snarks, but the hitch in his breath as his fingers come back up to circle your clit, wet with arousal, betrays him. âGod.â
You roll your eyes, and tug his boxers down to release his cock uncaringly. It bounces on your stomach and leaves a sticky mark on his uniform. You give yourself a few dry tugs before Gojo is speaking up again.
âSpit in your hand.â
You do, and the slide is so smooth you grunt in surprise. Pleasure zapping up your spine.
Gojo hardly hesitates as he sinks two fingers inside him, and you can tell from the twinge in his jaw it must sting.
âLet yourself adjust first," you offer, "Then try scissoring them."Â
Gojo waits a few beats, and the slick sound of your hand jerking Gojo's cock fills the space. It feels too good to muster up any embarassment you should realistically be feeling.
Before long, Gojo bites his lip impatiently and decides he's had enough time to adjust. While you canât see what heâs doing inside himself, his wrist and forearm flex rhythmically and you gather Gojo must be following your instructions.
You stare, transfixed, at your smaller fingers hidden inside your body. The best youâve done is get off in front of a mirror, and that experience pales in comparison to the real thing before you.Â
âOw,â Gojo grunts, eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. âWhat the fuck?â
âUsually I start with one,â you say, unsympathetic. âYou gotta relax, Gojo.âÂ
âIâm trying, but itâs kinda difficult with something shoved inside me. I thought this was supposed to feel good. You guys sure make it look like it does anyway.â
You scoff, slick hand working over your cock. âYouâre doing it wrong.â
âYouâre supposed to be teaching me! If Iâm doing it wrong, itâs your fault.âÂ
âAnd Iâm telling you, you gotta relax more. Nothing feels good when youâre tensed up like that,â you say, nodding to the taut line of his body. âThat's why foreplay exists, dumbass.â
âWhat are you, a fucking sex guru?â Gojo asks incredulously.
âIf youâre that blown away by the necessity of foreplay, I feel very sorry for your previous escapades,â you answer primly.Â
Instead of snapping back at you, Gojo falls silent, his face twisted into what looks like self-consciousness. Maybe chagrin. You canât quite place it. And all of a sudden, your stomach swoops as you start piecing the puzzle of this evening together.Â
âDonât tell meâŚâ you whisper.Â
Gojoâs eyes scrunch closed, and the still fingers inside himself get pulled out unceremoniously. âYou sure know how to kill the mood,â he attempts to joke, but it falls flat when you donât drop your suspicions.Â
âYouâre kidding, right?â you ask quietly, the hand on your dick stilling in shock. âLike youâre actually joking. You cannot be serious.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â he declares, opening his eyes to meet your baffled gaze.Â
âI think you do,â you reply.Â
Gojo claimed you killed the mood, but when your eyes flick to his wet fingers, and the arousal still slowly dripping from him like honey, itâs difficult to believe.Â
âPlease donât tell me youâre a virgin,â you say carefully, scared to hear the truth.Â
âSurprise,â he says lightly, attempting an awkward smile.Â
You lean back, gaze trained on him. âWow.â
âHappy now?â
âOh, quite.â You glance back down to his wet cunt and think for a moment, but thatâs truly all it takes for an idea to take root. You never stood a chance. Not with Gojo like this before you. âIf you want, I can show you a good time."Â
âYou canââ he starts, disbelievingly. ââshow me a⌠good⌠time? What are you, a fucking uni student still? Who says that kinda shit anymore.â
But you can see his cunt clench in the cool air, and Gojo clearly doesnât realise as such. You stand abruptly and walk over to where heâs splayed out in the chair. His head tips back as you approach and he watches you cautiously, tracking your movements.Â
You dip down into a kneel. âTrust me.â
Forcing yourself between his thighs, you grab one of Gojo's legs with a big, warm hand before slinging it over your shoulder. Gojo makes a startled sound. He tries to dislodge your hold. You stop the motionâtightening your grip and using your free hand to pin his other leg against the chair's armrest.
Like this, Gojo's wide open for you, one knee by his ear, the other knee shucked over your shoulder.Â
âWhat the fuckââ he gasps, scrabbling in an attempt to sit up and close his legs. He stares up at you with wide eyes.Â
âStop,â you murmur, flexing your fingers on the soft flesh of his thighs where you pin them in place. âRelaxâŚâÂ
Glancing down, you study how his cunt flutters each time you dig your fingers into him. Interesting. As though testing a theory, you turn your head to the leg over your shoulder, breath ghosting over his knee. Then, keeping an eye on his cunt, you lean forward. Coercing his leg back against his body, opening him up to you even more.Â
Gojo keens, a strangled sound in the back of his throat telling of the strain, and his cunt clenches, arousal weeping at the motion. You barely fight back a groan.
Covering his face with both hands, Gojoâs breaths are short and sharp, embarrassment lining every muscle in his body. Itâs gratifying. And you donât really care if he wants to hide, especially with what youâre about to do.Â
Without warning, you dip your head forward to blow on his cunt.Â
âOh my godâ waitââ Gojo gasps, hips jumping.Â
You havenât even touched him yet.Â
âWait, wait, waitââ
You blow again and grin when his cunt clenches once more.Â
âHold onââ
Experimentally, you dip your head to lick a broad stripe up his pussy. Gojoâs thighs tense under your hold. When he tries to speak, you repeat the action, before trailing your tongue down to the source of his arousal. Slurping it into your mouth and moaning as you can taste it on your tongue. The words die in his throat and Gojo whines instead, hips bucking up into your mouth.Â
âThis isââ
Pleased with the control you have over him, you bully your tongue inside him.
ââsoââ
Thrusting it in and out.Â
ââwrong.â
Scraping your teeth gently on his perineum.Â
âI know,â you reply into his cunt, voice muffled and wet.Â
You kiss your way up his pussy and trace his clit with your tongue before sucking on it. You pulse your mouth around it until Gojo starts spasming under you. A small hand comes to tangle in your hair and when he pulls in panic, you moan into him. Gojo keens at the vibration against his clit.Â
âOh my god, please donât stop,â Gojo chokes, his free hand coming to rest over yours, still pinning his leg against the chair's armrest.
You donât reply, but you squeeze your hand and dip back down to lick into him, nose bumping his clit with every thrust of your tongue. Itâs a challenge, to force your tongue inside so far, but youâre determined to taste yourself as you smush your face deep into his cunt, burying yourself there.Â
âAh, fuckâ just thereâ donât move!â
You couldnât even if you wanted to, Gojoâs grip is fast in your hair and it forces your face impossibly deeper into his cunt. Of course, if you really wanted to you could be out of his hold within a split second. Itâs kind of nice though, to let him have his fun for once. Let him play house as the big, strong sorcerer he isnât even the whisper of anymore.Â
âYes, yes, yes, yesââ
You flick your tongue back up to his clit, and Gojo either doesnât notice or doesnât care when you slip a finger inside him, immediately curling it. He does, however, notice the second, moaning aloud as you start pumping them in tandem, curling them on every thrust to try and find his g-spot.Â
He writhes on the armchair under your hulking body, undulating like a fish out of water. Itâs a strange picture. The sorcerer whoâs usually so restrained. Whoâs only expressive when it suits himâwhen itâs a means to an end of manipulating someone into doing something for him.
âCâmon, câmon, câmonâ please, justâ nghhâ right thereââ
It hurts when he comes.Â
Not him of course, a high, sharp keen reverberating in the air as he trembles through his first orgasm as a woman. Wave after wave wracking through his body.Â
But you.Â
Gojoâs grip in your hair turns punishing, too much so to be enjoyable anymore. And his other hand scrabbles on your forearm, scraping harsh pink lines into the exposed skin where your jacket sleeve has ridden up, a painful sting emanating where skin breaks under his nails. You canât help but wonder if this is a trait of Gojo, or a trait of Gojo in your body.Â
âAhh⌠oh myâ god,â the man in question finally gasps, twitching in overstimulation where youâre still lazily dragging your tongue through his cunt, fingers unmoving inside him. âStop. Enough.â
You comply, mostly just to lessen his assault on the body youâre currently inhabiting. You remove your mouth and fingers. Settle back onto your haunches as Gojo pants like heâs just run a marathon.
Any lingering weirdness of your situation is well and truly lost on you in the face of Gojo's little body trembling through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Your thumbs subconsciously soothe over his skin but you don't release his legs.
Sticky and wet.
Thatâs how you feel. In more ways than one you suspect, if Gojo's widening eyes are anything to go by as he takes in the full mess he's made of his face.
Your face.
âYou lookâŚâ Gojo begins, but you never get to find out. Instead, his gaze flicks between your eyes as he contemplates something, and then heâs blurting out one quick string of words, âCanyoufuckme?â
You raise a mocking eyebrow. âCome again?â
Gojo closes his eyes and sighs through his nose. âI said, can you fuck me?â
Fighting to control your expression, you donât realise until a beat later how your fingers tighten around his legs painfully.Â
âJustâ Whenâs the next chance weâll get to do something like this?â Gojo reasons, trying to pull his legs closer to his body self-consciously. He canât get far with them still trapped by you. âItâs not like I want you to fuck me, I just want to know what itâs like to get fucked by me.â
âNarcissistic much?â you scoff, peering down at him and feeling less and less enthusiastic about it as each long second ticks by. âAnd I think youâre lying.â
âNo.â
You place one hand on his stomach and press it down slightly. âYou donât just wanna feel what itâs like to be full? To feel like someoneâs dick is in your throat? To feel every thought melt out your ears with a good fuck?â
Gojo swallows uneasily before brandishing a shining smile. âNope. Self-performance review purposes only.â
âMhm,â you hum, unconvinced. âWell I suppose I can help. I wonât be able to emulate your technique without any prior knowledge though,â you sigh. âSo I guess youâll just have to review the product itself.â
âGross. What the fuck are you on about?â Gojo asks, lips curling at your crude phrasing.Â
You donât answer. Instead, you slide his leg from your shoulder, tuck it around your body, and heft him up with you by the waist as you stand. Gojo instinctively wraps his legs around you, afraid to fall.Â
âHey! Stop fuckinâ manhandling me...â But he sounds breathless, and hardly annoyed about it in fact.Â
You donât like that heâs so easy to carryâand youâre honestly not sure whether thatâs thanks to his strength or your stature. You reach the sofa and sit down, tugging him onto your lap. Gojo doesnât settle though, awkwardly hovering above your legs and staring down at you, once hand fisted in the sofa's backrest behind you.Â
âTake it away,â you murmur.Â
âThe fuck do you mean, âtake it awayâ?â he utters incredulously. âI asked you to fuck me.â
âIâve already put in a good shift today. Canât I cash in my payment? Youâve got my strong legs, Gojo." You pat his thigh with a firm palm. "Itâll be a breeze.â
The sorcerer looks at you strangely, as though scrutinising the truth of your statement. âYouâve done this before to know that?â
You scoff. âObviously.â
âOkay. Well⌠Alright then. Put it in,â he finishes lamely.Â
âIâll let you do the honours,â you reply, laughter melting your tone into something warmer than you were intending.Â
Gojo huffs as though greatly inconvenienced and rolls his eyes. He rises up onto his knees, takes a hold of your cock. You hiss and Gojoâs eyes flicker up to yours curiously.Â
âYou wonât last long,â he states plainly, mirth dancing across his expression.Â
âProbably not,â you agree. âLonger than you will, though.â
âInfamously and statistically untrue.â
You strain upwards to speak into his ear, voice honey-smooth. âYouâre in my body, Gojo. You donât think I know whatâs going to make you tick?âÂ
He makes a dismissive sound, lowers himself slightly, and brushes the head of your cock through the arousal slicking his cunt. You exhale through your nose.Â
âThought you said I gotta do the work?â he reminds you.
âI did." You sigh when the head of your cock slips inside him for a moment. âMaybe Iâll be nice if you behave though.â
Gojo remains suspiciously silent in response, and when you dare a look up at his face, his expression is twisted as though tasting something particularly sour. âYour dirty talk isnât doing what you think it is,â he finally huffs.Â
Wrapping your hands around his waist, you test your grip and startle when your fingers brush each other on the small of his back. You blink and ask, âNo?â
âNope.â Gojo shakes his head, letting your cock catch on his rim once more.
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to tug the sorcerer down to the hilt of you.
You pitch your voice down teasingly, âYou donât want to be good for me?â
âNot particularly,â he replies distractedly, dipping down a scarce few centimeters and back up again with a wince.Â
Youâre alert at once, perking up like a dog having a treat dangled in front of them. With the intent to soothe, you rub your thumbs across his stomach though it doesnât seem to do anything but throw Gojo off his concentration, who makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat.Â
âRelax dude,â you insist, using your hold to pull him down an inch.Â
ââDudeâ?â he asks disbelievingly, not appearing to notice how youâre sinking into him. âYouâre kidding me. Such a fucking uni student I swear, you used to sleeping with younger people or what? Is that who youâre picking up your dirty talk from? A bunch of students who imitate bad porn?â
Fighting back a laugh, you kick up into his cunt and tug him down to meet your pelvis simultaneously. Gojo releases a high, breathy moan. His fingers clutch onto the meat of your shoulder and the short hair on your nape as he's knocked forward by the motion.Â
âWhat was that?â you ask, voice similarly windswept at the tight heat engulfing your cock. Itâs unlike anything youâve ever had the pleasure of experiencing before. No wonder guys think with their dicks. Perhaps you would too if this is what it feels like.Â
âOh my godââ Gojo breathes unsteadily, head hanging so that all you can see is the crown of his head. âThat was⌠really underhanded.âÂ
Encouragingly, you coax Gojo's waist towards you and smile when he gasps. âYou gonna move, then?â
âGimme a second,â Gojo snaps, sharp nails pressing into your nape in warning. âSo impatient to get your dick wet.â
âYeah.â You ignore his request though, still moving his waist back and forth, enough so that Gojoâs mouth drops open silently as he tries to adjust to both the intrusion and the new sensation of your dick brushing his walls. âIs it weird that this isnât weird?âÂ
âKind of,â he chokes out, starting to move with your touch cautiously as though doesn't want you to realise that heâs ready yet. âI think we mightâve passed weird when you had your tongue in me, though.âÂ
âOr earlier,â you add thoughtfully, and slide your palms down to his hips to tilt them forward so his clit catches on the thatch of hair at the base of your dick with each gentle rock. Gojo exhales a pitiful noise and chases the sensation, gliding back and forth with a new fervour. âWhen you offered to teach me how to jack off.âÂ
âMaybe then,â he agrees mindlessly, clearly only half listening to you as he slides both hands to collar your trapezius muscles.
You can hardly be annoyed when the touch has you light headed, static creeping from the corners and lowering your inhibitions even further. Heâs too warm inside, and while his movements feel good, you know they wonât be enough to get you off anytime soon.
You donât think you can wait longer than soon, impatience buzzing under your skin.Â
âCâmon, Gojo,â you murmur, lifting your hips up to knock your cock into him. He whines. Whines. And you are possessed by the noise to repeat the action, kicking into him in short, aborted thrusts where heâs still heavy on your lap. âThought you wanted toâ ahâ test me out?âÂ
âJust keep doing that,â he demands instead, and you can see the side of his expression scrunching up every time you move. Gojo's face is still tucked between your bodies, reluctant to meet your eyes.Â
Wanting what you were promised, you fall still, lean back, remove your hands from his soft body and interlace your fingers behind your head in an action so irritatingly lofty that even you can admit the way Gojo immediately bristles is utterly warranted.Â
âFine,â Gojo scoffs, lifting his head to glare at you. âIâll get off how I was before then. Doesnât bother me.âÂ
As though to punctuate his claim, Gojo starts rolling his hips again.Â
âNo you wonât.â You donât move to stop him but he stills all the same as if you had. âJust try it properly.â
Gojo grumbles, seemingly debating something for a moment as the words he wants to speak sit on the tip of his tongue, but then he swallows them back and pivots his strategy. You furrow your eyebrows. âWhatever, if youâre that desperate for itâŚâÂ
Gojo rises onto his knees and you can feel the cool air hit your dick, already too accustomed to the warmth of him.
At once, thereâs an itch behind your teeth to seat yourself back inside Gojo, so strong you feel it could bowl you straight off your feet if you were stood up. Gojo's expression is wary, but then he slides back down your length and it melts away, replaced with surprise.Â
âThatâs it,â you murmur. He rushes to lift himself back up, using the grip he has on the junction of your neck to aid himself before sinking back down. âFeels good, doesnât it?â
âReally goodââ he grunts, dropping back to your lap.Â
You can feel pleasure licking up your body, warming your mind, but somehow the sight in front of you is even better. Gojoâs faceâyour faceâslack as he finds his rhythm, bobbing on your cock eagerly; Gojo panting, each laboured breath hitting your forehead, your nose, your chin as he moves; Gojo all-but drooling, lips slick with it.Â
You glance down and you nearly come there and then at the sight of you two joined. There's a sticky rim of arousal and pre-come foaming around the base of your cock which you ache to drag your fingers through.
Then, you suddenly remember you have free will, and waste no time as you drop your hands from behind your head and finger the connection. Spreading the mess on Gojo's thighs, across his clit as he whines at the touch, through the thatch of pale hair above your dick. It should be gross really, but your head spins with arousal and you dip a thumb into the mixture before swiping it on his clit once again.
Gojo doesnât disappoint. He keens, a sweet animalistic sound, and his thighs shake with no abandon.Â
âDo thatâ hahâ do that again.â
Wordlessly, you repeat the action, clumsily following his clit as he bounces on your cock. Youâre positive it's barely enough consistent pressure to get him off, but his moans crawl higher and higher each time you manage to catch his clit.Â
âDoing so well,â you pant. âBouncing on my cock like you were made for it.â
Gojo moans, but when he responds he sounds mildly repulsed, as though his mind and body are at odds over how he's supposed to feel about your words. âIâm in your body!â
You shake your head, disagreeingly. âThis is all you.â
âIdiot,â Gojo breathes, pace becoming sloppy, each rise becoming slower, each drop becoming harder.Â
âHave you ever felt like this though?âÂ
âStop talking, I canât fucking think!â he snarls, shaking thighs lifting him up your cock once more.Â
âI bet you haven't,â you speak for him. âBesides, you donât need to think. Just chase the feeling Gojo. Start thinking and youâll be on my cock forever. I told you itâs more difficult for women.â
Gojo groans, half-frustrated half-aroused. âDonât tell meâ shitâ not to think when youâre making meâ do all the work.â
Suddenly realising his annoyance, a laugh bubbles out of you, drenched in glee. âMr. Control Freak doesnât like being in charge, huh? Need me to dick you down? Quiet that big smart brain of yours?â
âI swear to god,â he warns, eyes darting to yours dangerously. âTalk to me like that againâŚâÂ
âFine,â you acquiesce, pouting. But you canât help but throw a bit of fuel on the fire when you murmur, âBaby.â
âIâm done,â he proclaims abruptly, lifting himself fully off your dick so quick he stumbles back from you when he stands. Your shock lasts for all of a few seconds before youâre distracted by the sight of his puffy cunt, glistening with arousal in the low light of your living room, his skirt in a pool around his ankles. âThis isnât worth it, youâre actually intolerable.â You force your gaze up to his eyes but they get stuck on the sight of his lips first, brain clouded with lust. âIâm just going to jack off, on your bed by the way,â he emphasises, as though that would bother you. As though Gojoâs pre-come isnât dripping onto your sofa right now. âAnd weâre never going to speak of this again unless you want to die.â
When you donât say anything, Gojo exhales an irritated breath and storms past the edge of the sofa in the direction of your bedroom. Before you can think about what youâre doing, you dart a hand out to grab his wrist and pull him awkwardly over the sofa's armrest before he can get any further.
For a brief moment you're surprised by your own strength. Youâd only meant to stop him but now heâs bent over the arm of the sofa like he's on display.
âGet off me,â he snaps, an embarrassed flush tinting his features as he tries and fails to pry his wrist from your grip.Â
âThought you wanted me to fuck you?â you ask sincerely.Â
Gojo drops his gaze to the sofa a few inches from his face. âA momentary lapse in judgement.âÂ
âThat's it, yeah?âÂ
âMhm, now lemme go raid your bedside table. I know you've got some freaky shit in there and I'm gonna take it for a spin.â
âAlright,â you pretend to agree. âLet me check something, first though.âÂ
Gojo sighs, but doesnât argue. You place a hand on his shoulder blades and press him down onto the sofa, feigning using him to stand. In two quick steps you circle the sofa and fit another hand to the base of his spine where you stop behind him. Gojo realises that heâs been tricked and quickly tries to shove himself upright. You hold him in place easily.
âNo, no no noâ this is so degrading, weâre notâ weâre not doing this.â
âDegrading? Seriously? Way to be progressive Gojo, jeez. Thereâs nothing degrading about playing a part in the miracle of life.â
And that really seems to make him panic. Gojo starts to press his hands into the sofa beneath him before giving up and kicking a leg back at you blindly. You bully forward to stop his flailing, until your clothed thighs are touching his, your hard cock sat snug in atop his bare ass.Â
âI wanna eat you out again,â you murmur, eyeing the spread of his cunt where his hips are hooked over the armrest, his tiptoes barely touching the floor. âBut another time. I wanna fuck you first. Properly fuck you. Make you nice and quiet like you were askinâ for. How âbout it, Gojo?â
Gojo covers his face with his hands and buries it into the sofa, soft trembles wracking his body. Whether from nerves or arousal or fear, you truly haven't a clue.Â
âCâmon.â Sensing that heâs not going to move, you lift the hand from his lower back to your cock and swipe it through his wet cunt, a silent promise. âIâll make you feel good.âÂ
Without waiting for his reply, you slip your cock into Gojo's cunt. Sliding back into his warmth so easily it's as if you've already carved out a home for yourself deep inside him.
Gojo keens into the sofa cushions, a foot lifting to wrap around the back of your calf subconsciously. You test your weight on his shoulder blades, letting him take it until heâs forced to turn his face to the side and heave in a stilted breath.Â
You cant your hips back before snapping them forward. Immediately you start up a harsh rhythm, following your instincts as you try to ignore the pleasure fizzling through your own body and instead focus on giving Gojo the best fuck of his stupid life.
Gojo curses, and it tangles in a moan until you can't even tell what he was trying to say.
You angle your hips differently each thrust, aiming for the spot inside your cunt that you know from personal experience causes your brain to leak from your ears. It takes you many clumsy thrustsânot that Gojo seems to think as much by the way his back arches, startled whines slipping out his mouth as though he canât even try to contain themâuntil you finally find it.Â
Gojo cries like heâs been shot. Body locking up, drool leaking from his wide open mouth, toes curling against the floor and the back of your calf.Â
You grin.Â
Jack-rabbiting back into that spot over and over, until you can see his hands scrabbling on the sofa as he fights the last remaining dregs of his pride. A particularly hard press on his shoulder blades later and heâs thawing, going limp against the sofa like a puppet with their strings cut.Â
âNo thinking now, huh?â you pant, leering over his back to get a better look at the fucked out expression heâs plastered on your face.Â
You expected to fixate on the sight of what you look like in this position, but you only find yourself wondering how the real Gojo would look.
How his pale skin would flush; how his white hair would be plastered to his sweaty skin; how his own deep voice would rise higher and higher as you fuck into him with the strap you keep tucked away under your bed for your particularly adventurous partners.Â
Gojo makes a noise, perhaps trying to oppose your meaningless statement. You laugh, slightly cruel. Still warm. And brace both hands along his spine, leaning the bulk of your weight on him like a blanket. He only melts further beneath you, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight. At the quiet behind his eyes.Â
Gojoâs high whines have tapered off into low, chopped keens at each sharp thrust, as though his brain has run out of capacity to react as it should. You can see his fingers weakly holding onto the sofa, his legs all but dangling from the edge of the armrest, his heaving chest.
And without warning, he comes. Body trembling like a leaf in the wind, voice lodged in this throat as his mouth opens on a soundless moan. His eyes squeeze closed and his back arches impossibly further. The sight of the curve so alluring you canât help but lick along the sweaty skin, mouthing at him like an animal.Â
âThere you go,â you speak against him, voice rough and jagged. âYou're so good, Gojo. Knew you were made for this.â
He doesnât even complain when you continue thrusting into him, though you are at least kind enough to stop targeting his g-spot, chasing your own ignored high.
So much for you coming first.Â
Far away, you can hear your own gravelled moans as you fuck into him like a dog in heat, laving your tongue along the ridges in his spine, listening to his quiet keens of overstimulated pleasure. And all it takes is a blissed out brush of his foot on your ankle for you to come too, the pressure exploding as you shoot thick ropes of come inside his cunt, shallowly rocking into him until the pleasure fizzles out into a mild pain. Not enough to stop you, but you still anyway, thinking about how different that was from your usual orgasms.
A very good different. Â
âShit,â you breathe, slowly coming back to yourself. âThat was crazy.â
You tilt your head on Gojoâs back to peer down at him.
Heâs gone.Â
Floating.Â
Drifting somewhere that isnât this room youâre both in. The realisation that youâve done this to him has pride simmering in your gut, arousal coating the edges of it. Slowly, you peel yourself from his back and pull out cautiously, conscious of how unpleasant the sensation can be. Gojo barely reacts bar a barely there scrunch of his nose.Â
âYou okay, Gojo?â you ask quietly, brushing some of your hair away from his sweaty face.Â
He hums tiredly, expression content, and his eyes lazily flicker to yours for a second before flickering away again like thereâs something more important to look at in the silence of his mind.Â
âI really did a number on you, wowâŚâ you murmur, rising to your full height to take in all of him.Â
Gojo doesnât move. Doesnât say anything.Â
But he does whine when you drag your fingers through the come dripping out of his cunt, scooping it up and fucking it back into him gently. Thereâs a hitch in his breath that rings out in the quiet of the living room. You curl your fingers, searching for that spot once more.Â
âYou can come one more time, right?âÂ
â
In the afterglow, clean and satiated, you share an order of chinese food on the floor of your living room. A film plays in the background. Itâs not one you knowâan older film, one Gojo had picked out when flipping through the channels on your TV while you called the restaurant. Youâre barely watching it, only flicking your eyes to the flash of a new scene before your gaze inevitably lands on the sorcerer beside you once more. But the noise is kind of nice; comforting, if you were to put a word to it.Â
âIf you tell anyone about this,â Gojo begins around a mouthful of noodles, oddly relaxed for the threat he goes on to say, âI will air out all of the blackmail Iâve been collecting these past few years.â
âOh, really?â You raise an eyebrow, leaning your back against the seat of the sofa. âLike what?â
âLike how you when you use other peopleâs mugs in the staffroom you only rinse them before putting them back in the cupboard.âÂ
You shrug, unphased.Â
âAnd, how you gave Ijichi the wrong number two months ago so now Ino keeps getting sent on what are supposed to be your errands.â
At that you laugh, surprised Gojo even knew about that little stunt youâve managed to pull off. It wonât be long before another sorcerer, probably Nanami knowing your luck, clocks on and actually does something about it. But youâve been enjoying the reprieve from doing grunt work in the meantime.Â
âAnd, how you are really, really bad at dirty talk.â
You smile, aimlessly stirring your boxed chicken around with your chopsticks. âYou goinâ to tell everyone that?â
âI might,â Gojo replies haughtily, giving you a meaningful look. âBut only if you tell first.â
âWell then,â you start, voice laced with amusement. âGuess I better keep my mouth shut.â
Gojo nods, before he mimes zipping his mouth closed and flicking the key towards your TV. You mimic the action, lean over to steal a bite of noodles from the container heâs holding, and chuckle when he squawks indignantly.Â
â
A week later, youâre back in your own body.Â
Itâs strange to find yourself disappointed by what should be a cause for great celebration.Â
But then Gojo is following you home to pick his belongings up and his mouth is on yours the minute you both pass through your front door and you find it remarkably hard to care at all. Not when heâs bending you over the armrest of your traumatised sofa in revenge. Not when heâs sliding into you like heâs coming home. And definitely not when heâs promising in that stupidly titillating voice of his how there wonât be space for a thought left in your head once heâs finished with you.Â
As such, you ought to remove your rose tinted glasses soon. It isnât healthy to live in the past after all, but your memories in Gojoâs body are too sweet to resist, even with his warm hulking body plastered to your back.Â
Sue you.Â
Reminiscing never killed anybody.Â
âšâš KINKTOBER 2025 | GENERAL M.LIST | READ ON AO3
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