゛leona ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

It’s been a few weeks since you left your last job, since you left Gojo. In that time, you’ve been incredibly busy; applying for jobs and moving. Unfortunately, a lot of your things had to be put in storage because there wasn’t room in your parents’ home for it all, so that’s cut into your savings. Funds were already running low and now they’re almost non-existent. On top of that, the job market has been completely atrocious.

You’re beginning to feel like the places you’re applying for immediately chuck your resume into the bin. The memory of Gojo telling you how bad your application had been always ringing in your head whenever you open the document to edit it. You know for a fact you’ve improved upon the formatting, and you have more actual experience now but the doubt still lingers.

The biggest pitfall for you is that you haven’t put Gojo down as a reference, not wanting them to call him up and rub it in his face that you’ve left his company. You’re not stupid though, you put down Nanami. So far, he’s told you he got one call and it was the one interview you had. It… didn’t go over so well. Living back at home should be more familiar but everything is overwhelming and you ended up late and, yeah, it just didn’t go well.

Luckily, you’re not completely unemployable, only in the field you actually want to be employed in. You managed to get a job at a pretty popular café, it makes your head spin on the particularly busy days but you’re not exactly here for the vibes so you make do. Some customers are horrendously rude, but people tend to be like that wherever you go.

Currently in the last hour of your shift and all you can think about is going home but then again, your parents aren’t exactly delightful company at the moment. They mean well but all they do is question you about what you’re doing and when you’ll get another job and asking about things they don’t need to be asking about.

Sometimes after work, you’ve taken to wandering around. Buying a little treat and sitting in a park to savour it, after the first time you’d realised why Gojo does it so often. Speaking of Gojo, he texts every now and again and you can never bring yourself to reply with any substance. After your one-night stand, things are awkward and you feel guilty.

Off in space and thinking to yourself when you’re brought back to the present. One of the last people you’re expecting to see standing right in front of you. Considering this café is fairly close to his company, you shouldn’t be too shocked to see Geto. He’s looking back at you like he’s just as surprised, that is until his expression falls into the usual pleasant smile he wears.

“Well, hello there,” his voice a deep, delightful contrast to the way you feel.

A small breath in and then you plaster your fake work smile all over your face, “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

“If you’re working here then I’m guessing you really did leave Satoru.”

The way he ignores your clear desire to keep this interaction short annoys you, “Can you please just tell me what you want?”

“What I want?” leaning in a little closer to the counter between the two of you, “I’d like for you to work with me.”

“I’m not interested in this little dance, Geto, just order before you hold up the line.”

“Your customer service skills could use a little work,” he jokes.

There’s a twitching in your eyebrow that’s starting to make itself known, your patience has been significantly cut into lately. You’ve been beaten down too much and him being annoying while you’re working the only job that would accept you, it’s seriously pissing you off.

Geto must notice because he backs off a little, “Triple shot espresso,” finally ordering.

“Size?”

“Biggest you got.” While you’re punching in his order, he asks, “What time you getting off?”

Glancing at the clock behind you before mindlessly answering, “Another half an hour.”

“I’ll wait for you, come to my table when you’re done.” He walks away after that, not really giving you a chance to refute him since he actually was shamelessly holding up the line.

Thirty minutes go by and you’re clocking off. Sure enough, Geto waited for you. Still sat at a table in the back corner of the café, laptop open in front of him and his coffee long gone. Though you’re hesitant, you’re also curious so you sit down across from him. Lounging on the chair a little unapologetically, tired after being on your feet all day.

Getting straight to the point, “What do you want?”

“Hold on,” he replies without looking at you, eyes firmly on his screen.

You watch him type away, clearly caught up in whatever work he’s wrapping up for the day. You’re bored and your curiosity is dwindling but the alternative is going home and you’re not quite ready for that yet.

Speaking again, “You know this café does have a closing time.”

“I’m aware.” Ghost of a smile on Geto’s lips at your snarky comment. “Do you have this much attitude with Satoru?”

“I’m being quite polite with you actually.”

Him bringing up Gojo makes your heart tug, it feels like you’re betraying him just by sitting here.

The soft tap of Geto’s laptop shutting draws your eyes to his, he tilts his head at you, “You alright?”

“I’m glorious,” it’s a little too sarcastic for what you read as genuine concern. “Sorry, I’m fine, just wondering what exactly you want from me?”

“What I’ve wanted from the beginning, I’d like for you to work at my company.”

“I don’t really want to work for you just so you can one up Gojo in whatever feud you’ve got going on.”

“Loyalty is a good trait to have,” he sits back a bit more, adding, “However, I genuinely would like for you to work with me,” hand waving a little, “Satoru’s reaction would merely be an added bonus.”

“For you maybe,” you sigh.

A single brow raising at you, “If you’re so upset, why did you leave?”

“Is it relevant?”

“It might be.”

Your tongue clicks at him, “It’s not.”

“Whatever you say,” he relents, choosing not to push any further. At least, not on that topic, “So, about my job offer?”

Another sigh, “Can I think about it?”

He’s now wearing an expression that reads satisfaction, “Sure, though I expect a solid answer the next time I see you.”

“If that’s all,” moving to get up.

He stops you by saying, “You don’t want to keep me company a bit longer?”

“I’m sure you have actual friends to keep you company, Geto,” you chuckle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. Today has been a long day.”

Home isn’t where you really want to be but you’re tired and you need to be alone to think. You really want to make some substantial savings, enough so you can move out of your parents’ house and you’re not going to do that on a casual wage. Something steady with a contract, full-time hours, that’s what you need. And that’s what Geto’s offering you.

All you feel lately is guilt and it’s starting to make you touchy. This isn’t even your fault in the first place, your circumstances are the result of someone else’s poor decision making and you have no one to talk to about it. It’s pointless thinking about that right now, you need to be thinking about your future and what will benefit you in the long term.

The next time you run into Geto is only a few days later, you have a feeling it’s not an accident on his behalf, but it hardly matters since you don’t have a way to contact him. Again, he waits for you to finish up work. The wait a little longer than last time, you feel bad but he seems fine working in that same corner.

By the time you’re off the clock and across from him, his laptop is already closed and he’s clearly waiting for you to give him your official answer. You’re worrying your lower lip with your teeth; you’ve thought about this over and over for the past few days and you still aren’t sure on your response. You know what you want to say, and what you’re going to say, you just feel conflicted.

Finally opening your mouth to say, “I have one question first.”

He shuffles in his seat, “Sure.”

“Why?” Letting the one word settle before clarifying, “Why do you want to hire me so bad? There are plenty of people more qualified and far less reluctant… You know, people who apply for the job.”

“I can’t tell if you’re modest or dense,” arms crossing over his chest, “did you not notice that Satoru’s dealings were significantly improved by your hiring?”

“I’m not that modest, of course I noticed but he’s terrible with rich assholes and that tends to come with the field,” you point at him, “you don’t have that problem, you’re not exactly kind but people seem to look past it since you’re all pretty faced and polite smiles.”

Gojo has a bad habit of saying how he feels, mocking people in a blatantly obvious way when he’s pushed a little too far. Geto, from what you’ve noticed, isn’t too far from having the same low tolerance but he’ll soften his face and insult you in an underhanded way you might not immediately notice.

“Regardless, you were a valuable asset to his company, and I feel you’d be just as valuable to mine. Your name isn’t unknown you know? You’re heavily attached to him, people recognise you. That’s not worthless.” He looks like he’s growing a little bored trying to convince you of your appeal, swapping directions. “I’ve answered you; I expect you have an answer for me?”

“I’ll work for you,” rubbing at the back of your neck, “but I’m going to be clear that I’m still hesitant, I feel—”

“—Guilty?” he finishes, “Don’t, it’s business. Making it personal never ends well.”

“Big words from a guy who has a personal rivalry with his former best friend.”

“I’d describe it more as friendly competition.”

You scoff a little, “Yeah, I’m sure you would.”

“How about instead of talking about the past, we celebrate your employment?”

Scepticism all over your face, “And why would I do that?”

“To humour me and my good mood.”

“I don’t really like to mix personal and business.”

His eyes squint at you, chin resting in his palm atop the table, “You never got personal with Satoru?”

Flashes of the last time you were with Gojo running through your head makes your skin heat up some. “No, I didn’t.”

“Alright,” he’s grinning, and you can tell he doesn’t quite believe you. Hell, you don’t believe you.

You pull your bag onto your lap and look through it, scavenging through it to retrieve the resume you’d printed off after you’d decided you’d say yes to Geto. It’s a little wrinkled as you hand it over to him.

“That has my contact details on it.”

He takes it from you, looking it over a little judgementally, “Thanks, I’ll be in touch.” And because he can’t help himself, “Have you been applying to jobs with this?”

“Oh my god, come on,” you whinge a little, “it is not that bad!”

A stifled laugh sounds from him, “Touched a nerve there, huh?”

“Shut up,” grumbling isn’t professional, but you don’t care right now, “email me all the information I’ll need, unless you’ve changed your mind after seeing my resume.”

“Hardly,” tucking it away into his laptop case, “you’ll be hearing from me.”

Working for Geto isn’t like what you expected, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting but it’s not what you got. Maybe in your head you were thinking he’d be more malicious in his actions, or that he’d be trying extra hard to get private information about Gojo’s company out of you but that’s not the case. It’s the same work you did for Gojo, it’s actually a little easier considering Geto doesn’t sneak off or show up late.

On your second week now and while you still have bouts of guilt, you’re beginning to feel better. The pay doing wonders for your attitude, not a huge increase from working with Gojo but compared to the café it is. Unfortunately, a non-insignificant amount of the money you make goes to payments like the storage unit, bills, debt. Moving out is still in the distant future.

A part of you was holding onto hope that maybe if you saved enough, you could move back to the other side of the city and work for Gojo again. That’s starting to look unrealistic now, saving enough will take too long and even though he said he wouldn’t, he will have to hire someone else.

The rhythmic sound of the pen you’re tapping against your wooden desk is a telltale sign of unrest. One that doesn’t elude Geto as he walks past your desk, stopping in front of it and reaching over to gently pull the pen from your hand.

“Some people might find that annoying,” he spins the pen over his fingers fluidly.

Spinning your chair around for emphasis as you reply, “Good thing it’s just me here then.”

“You’re not that far from my office,” his head tilts back towards his door only a few steps away, “I’ve been listening to this noise every day for the past two weeks, do I need to distract you with more work?”

You shrug, “I’m a multitasker.”

“I’ve noticed.” The pen is placed back on your desk.

“Are you on your way somewhere or was I just bothering you?”

“I’m a multitasker too,” he grins, “you first, and then the printer room.”

“Shouldn’t I go?” you fix him with a curious stare, “What’s the point in having a personal assistant if you don’t let them assist you?”

“I thought you might be incredibly busy with your pen.”

“You’re hilarious,” raising to your feet, “I’ll go to the printing room for you.”

You’ve started to walk off when he calls after you, “Don’t get lost.”

The response he gets from you is a quick look back with an unimpressed expression. Since working here, you’ve gotten lost one time. It was embarrassing because you had to email him to come find you, too nervous to stop anyone from working. Now, every time you go off somewhere, he’s bringing it up. Hilarious.

When you’re done with your small trip, you gingerly knock on Geto’s door. Entering once he makes a sound of acknowledgement and striding in to place the papers down in front of him. You need to talk with him about a couple things, so you sit down in one of the chairs across from him, legs crossing.

His gaze flicks up from the papers he’s just received to you, “Can I help you?”

“You have a meeting tomorrow before midday.”

“I remember.”

“Also, there’s a woman who keeps emailing and calling, trying to get ahold of you.” You’re trying not to sound nosey but you’re pretty sure you’re failing, “It’s becoming almost as concerning as it is distracting.”

Face scrunching in distaste, “What does she want?”

“I’m pretty sure she just wants you.”

“Normally she wants something specific.”

“She won’t talk to me.” The woman has gotten increasingly more aggressive in her pursuit of Geto. When you’d initially picked up the phone to talk with her, she seemed incredibly offput by the sound of your voice. “Who is she?”

“A valuable client,” answering simply, then adding, “eccentric and a tad obsessive but valuable.”

“Right, okay.” You nod at him, you’re not quite sure how you feel about that but what you do know is that it’s becoming inconvenient. “Well, can you deal with her then? She’s distracting and also getting to be a little rude.” You’re sugarcoating it, she’s getting nasty.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it.” His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose like he’s getting a headache just thinking about talking to her.

“Is her business worth it?”

“Unfortunately.”

You leave him alone after that, too tempted to ask more questions and not wanting to upset him over it. It’s none of your business, you don’t need to know about him and his interpersonal relationships.

By the time that you’re supposed to be going home, you find yourself moving slower. Not ready yet, so you stay at your desk. Going through emails and drafting responses for tomorrow. It’ll make things go a bit quicker in the morning at least, so that’s a bonus.

It’s not until Geto leaves his office that you realise he’d been staying later too. Stopping by your desk as he slips his coat on, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Hesitating before replying, “I just… had some work I had to get done first.”

“I know that can’t be true,” slight laugh from him, like the idea of you being behind on work is ridiculous.  

“Well, it is,” pouting a bit.

You can feel the way he considers you, his eyes scanning your movements as you pretend to be incredibly busy with work you’d neglected. Eventually, he hums like he’s come to a decision, “Wanna have dinner together?”

That stops you and you find it a little odd how you consider it, “Sure.” Logging out of your computer and packing your things up. It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to be and dinner with Geto sounds more appetising than dinner at home.

“Great,” you both walk to the elevator together and he adds, “I’m guessing that work is gonna have to wait until tomorrow?”

“Fine, you caught me,” relenting, “I’m just incredibly meticulous.”

He hums, a little amused but clearly not buying it. “I’m sure.”

“Hey!” you take offence, “I am meticulous.”

“I know you are,” the elevator dings and you both step on, “I also know you’re lying.”

“You can’t know that.”

“‘Course I can.”

Muttering back, “I think you’re lying.”

“Ah, you think,” he grins.

“Do you get a kick out of annoying your employees or something?”

“You’re the only employee I annoy.”

Choosing to ignore the idea of being special in any sort of way and replying, “If you keep lying like this your pants are gonna set on fire.”

Brow raising to you, joking, “Is that a threat?”

“If you’re not careful,” another ding signalling your arrival at the basement.

Still smiling, “Noted.”

You follow him off the elevator and walk to his car together. It’s sleek and black and far out of your price range. It feels weird just sitting in it, like you’re doing something wrong. It must be showing on your face because Geto raises his brow in question.

“You okay?”

“Yep,” and you briefly consider not continuing your sentence, “your car is super fancy, it feels like I’m somehow sitting in the seat weird.”

He laughs at that, “Now that you’re mentioning it, you are sitting a little odd.”

“Okay, it’s not nice to poke fun,” buckling yourself in, “your stupid car is stupid.”

“I thought it was fancy?”

“I regret talking to you.”

“I don’t.”

The car ride is spent bickering back and forth in a similar fashion, it distracts you enough that you don’t really notice where he’s taking you until you’re in another parking garage. You really should’ve paid more attention.

Brows furrowing as you take in your surroundings, “Where are we?”

“My apartment’s garage,” he says matter of fact.

That spins you, “What?”

While your brain is catching up, Geto’s stepped out of the car. When you don’t immediately get out, he walks to your side and opens the door for you. He doesn’t get a second to speak, you’re immediately asking.

“What are we doing at your apartment?” And despite your reluctance, you exit the vehicle, “I thought we were getting dinner?”

“I asked if you wanted to have dinner together,” the car door closes, “I never said where.”

“You got me on a technicality,” he’d make good fae.

“Don’t worry,” he guides you through the garage, “I’m a good cook.”

“Yeah, you better be after tricking me.”

Credit where credit is due, he knows his way around the kitchen. You get the luxury of observing him work, you had tried to help but he sidelined you when you’d almost cut yourself. A total fluke by the way, you’re more than capable. He hadn’t listened to your excuses though and banished you to the other side of the counter.

His movements are confident; he knows what he’s doing. Sleeves rolled up his forearms, so they don’t get dirty. Sturdier than you would’ve pegged him for. His long hair is pulled back into a ponytail, keeping it out of the way. It’s swishing slightly as he moves and it amuses you, he has very nice hair.

Watching him dish up dinner, you absentmindedly comment, “You’d make a good housewife.”

He pauses before replying, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.”

“Would you be a working husband then?”

“Naturally,” you take your plate, eyes tracking him as he moves to sit next to you at the countertop, “I’d be a very good husband.”

He’s smiling like he finds you to be exhausting, “Eat your food.”

Dinner is good and you say as much while eating, it’s been a while since you’ve eaten something so tasty. Geto really would make a good partner, the fact he’s spent all day at work and still came home and cooked a whole meal shouldn’t be impressive, but it is. When you’d relayed this to him, he’d told you that you’re too easily impressed and maybe that’s true.

After you’ve both eaten, you’re relaxing on the couch together. The conversation is casual and you don’t have to try too hard to think of something to say. Any lull in conversation isn’t awkward either, the both of you seemingly comfortable in the others presence. It’s nice.

For the first time in a while, you’re feeling good. Not overthinking anything and just allowing yourself to be in this moment.

“By the way,” you start after another pause in conversation, “I’ve been meaning to mention…”

Hum of acknowledgement from him, signalling you to continue.

“I feel underutilised.”

“In what way?”

“At work,” you clarify, “you’re so on top of things, I barely feel like I’m helping.”

“You are,” he smiles, seemingly endeared by your concern, “immensely.”

Eyes rolling at him, hardly satisfied, “Geto—”

“—I’m serious,” he says your name. “Things have been running smoothly for me, you’re incredibly meticulous,” it’s a slightly mocking tone, reminding you of your earlier words.

Your head falls to the back of the couch, looking at him out the corner of your eye, “I’m not someone who can be placated with empty compliments.”

“No, I didn’t think you would be,” he continues smiling gently.

“Seriously.” You turn your head to look at him properly, “Are you hiding work from me or something?”

He drops his head onto the couch and faces you, mirroring your pose, “It’s only your first couple weeks, I had to go a little easy on you.”

Doubt is written all over your features, “I don’t know if you’re that kind.”

“You really have a low opinion of me,” his hand raises and clutches over his chest like you’ve wounded him.

You shrug back, “I think it’s significantly improved after dinner.”

“Oh, is that all it took?” He chuckles.

“I’m easy to please.”

“I wonder about that.”

A quiet falls over the both of you, still facing each other. It feels as though you’ve gotten closer to him and you can’t tell if he’s the one who moved or if it was you. The hand Geto had on his chest moves to the side of your face, sliding down to your neck. It’s an impossibly long and drawn-out moment where you’re not quite sure what he’s going to do or what’s happening between the two of you.

All your thoughts dissipate as soon as he leans in and kisses you slow, tentative. Focusing only on how his lips feel against yours, soft and careful. You kiss back and it has him responding eagerly. Moving closer to you, other hand on your waist.

His thumb strokes under your chin to encourage you to tilt your head back for him, you comply. Mouths slotting together hotly, his tongue swiping against your lower lip to ask for entry. You’re mindlessly granting it, stifling down a small shiver as he licks against your own tongue.

You’re looping your arms around his neck and he’s welcoming it, hold on your waist sliding to your back and pulling you closer into him. The longer the kiss lasts, the needier he gets. Turning from soft and sweet to hot and messy. Sucking on your tongue a little as he pulls back.

And even though he pulls back, you don’t have a real chance to speak because he’s back on you in a second. It’s intoxicating and all consuming, head filling with fog pleasantly. Involuntarily mewling against him when he nips you and it’s only spurring him on.

Grabbing you and placing you on top his lap, your pussy warm over his erection. Able to feel just how aroused he’s getting. Geto grunts a little when you shift, lowering yourself onto him a bit more. He embraces the pressure though, grip on your hips tight and slightly rocking you.

Small grinds down onto him making the both of you moan into the kiss, breaths coming harder and intermingling. You find yourself wishing he didn’t still have his hair up, wanting to run your fingers through it. His fingers slip upwards, playing with the hem of your shirt, tickling along your exposed skin.

Completely caught up in the moment, rutting down into him as he swallows your moans. His hips moving up slightly to meet yours, clearly just as lost in this as you. It’s your phone buzzing in your back pocket that pulls your attention. Reluctantly pulling back because it might be important, your eyes linger a little on his shiny lips.

Then you’re tugging your phone out of your pocket, still sat on top of Geto. “I’m sorry,” you’re still a little breathless, “It might be important.” You don’t mention it could be your parents.

He hums back at you, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Eyes a little glassy as he watches you read your phone screen. He doesn’t miss the way you still as your eyes glance over it.

The message is from Gojo, and you’re immediately hit with a whole slew of complicated emotions. It simply reads, ‘Do you have free time soon?’

Geto’s head tilts at you, he can feel the tone shift. Removing his hands from under your shirt, and asking, “Are you okay?”

You blink a couple times and look back to him, “What? Yeah, I’m fine!” Removing yourself from his lap a little awkwardly, “But… I think I’m going to go home for tonight.”

“I didn’t—”

“—No! You didn’t do anything wrong, Geto, honest.” You don’t want him to think he’s upset you. “I just… think this happened a little fast, I’m sort of dealing with a lot right now and the last thing I want to do is rush into something with you… my boss.”

“I understand,” he nods slowly, standing up as well, “I want you to know, that wasn’t my intention bringing you here.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” you smile, trying to add a bit of levity.

His head tilts a little lower to fix you with a serious look, “It wasn’t.”

“Okay, though I may still hold this over your head at work,” walking with him to the door, “maybe even get a raise.”

“Don’t push it,” he snickers, “especially not when you were all too eagerly rubbing—”

You push his side, “—Don’t you push it.” Lingering a bit at the entryway, “I hope we’ll still be able to work together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course we can,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I was too hasty… it won’t happen again, unless you want it to.”

The appreciation you have for Geto only grows with how chill he’s being about this. “Thank you for dinner, I had a nice time.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” he smiles and it feels genuine, “I can drive you home?”

“No, that’s okay.” you don’t want him knowing you’re living with your parents, and you think you might need a little distance for now, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

A single nod, “Get home safe.”

The whole trip home, you can’t stop thinking about what happened. About Gojo messaging you, his timing is impeccable really. There’s still a lot of things you’re feeling and rationally you know you’re not betraying Gojo in any way but the heavy weight on your chest remains regardless.

The next day, you’re sitting at your desk tending to your work. A little worried that things will be awkward with Geto, not having had the chance to have a full conversation with him today. Though, that’s not unusual for you both so you’re not sure if you’re overthinking it or not.

Wondering if things will be okay between the two of you today when he stops in front of you. Hands in his pockets, waiting patiently for you to acknowledge his presence.

Your eyes scan the time and then you’re telling him, “You’re going to be late.”

“We’re going to be late,” he corrects.

A little confused by that, “Huh?”

“You’re coming with me, come on.”

That certainly throws you for a loop, but you don’t get much of a chance to be confused, following after him. It wasn’t frequent that Gojo took you with him to meetings, not that it’s unusual or anything. If you really thought about it, you’d have to say that Gojo might be the unusual one.

You are thankful that things do seem to be normal between Geto and yourself, he’s not icing you out or anything. Everything seems to be the same and you feel like you relax at the realisation, breaths coming a bit easier now. The lingering discomfort is coming from your current setting, rather than your relationship to your boss.

Meetings are always uncomfortable for you, left feeling out of place and in the way. You’re not expected to contribute anything or do anything at all really. So, you take notes, writing down everything you can as it’s brought up. It’s come in handy a couple times, now it’s just a habit. It gives you something to do, makes you look busy and attentive, instead of uncomfortable and uncertain.

Jotting down most things said, not really paying much attention to what exactly it is you’re writing. Repeating down someone’s words when Geto leans over to say, “Yeah, make sure you get that down.”

Breathing out an amused sound at it when you realise the unimportance of what you’ve written, ‘People need to understand the vision.’ Fairly inoffensive but not really worth your ink.

You mutter back at him, “Pay attention.”

“But I’m getting bored,” he grins.

“Not my problem.”

You’re trying not to pay too much attention to him, not wanting to encourage his behaviour or get distracted yourself. These past couple weeks have you softening towards him, he’s a good boss and he cares about his company a lot. Annoying sometimes but you suppose you’re used to that.

You can’t afford yourself getting swept up in him, he’s far too appealing and you already know how good of a kisser he is… and these are exactly the kind of thoughts you were trying to avoid by not paying him much mind.

The rest of the meeting wraps up fairly smoothly, despite Geto’s attempts to entertain himself by bothering you every now and again. You’re busy chastising him when you’re walking through the lobby, “That was totally unprofessional, Geto. What if they decide they don’t want to work with you anymore?”

“Don’t overreact, I wasn’t that bad,” he nudges your side lightly, “plus, they love me.”

“You sure are full of yourself.”

“Should you be talking to your boss that way?”

“Absolutely,” nudging him back, “I need to make sure you’re kept in—”

Words dying off all at once because you’re very suddenly faced with Gojo right in front of you. Blinking up at him dumbly, not even sure if he’s really there. All the guilt you’d been ignoring flooding you at once, head very quickly feeling light. Why is he even here?

Geto talks before either of you do, trying to smooth over the awkwardness, “Good afternoon, Satoru.”

Gojo doesn’t even react, addressing only you, “What are you doing here?”

“I… I’m here on business,” you mumble out, having a hard time keeping eye contact. Your heart is racing in your chest, and it feels like there’s a lump in your throat.

“What brings you here, Satoru?” Geto asks the question you both want the answer to, though you imagine he’s curious for a different reason.

“Business,” he replies, clearly aware that him being here threatens Geto’s position with this company.

“Well, we don’t want to hold you up,” you force a smile, “we’ll be on our way.” Attempting to find an out from this conversation.

Gojo doesn’t let it happen, “Ah, I don’t think so,” he grasps your hand, “I’ve got time before my meeting, we need to talk.”

“I’m kind of on the clock, Gojo.” His hand around yours is warm, it’s a contrast to the cold chill running through the rest of your body. “And you’re probably running late already,” your smile feels sad, but you push through it, “we can talk another time.”

Giving his hand a single squeeze before slipping from his hold and shuffling quickly to the exit. This big building now feels suffocating. You don’t even check to see if Geto’s followed you out, mind only focused on getting to the car. That’s a second time now, a second time where you’re actually enjoying your new job and working for Geto without the shame tugging at the back of your brain. Only for it to slam into you all at once. Some luck you have, it’s almost like the universe punishing you or something less dramatic.

You’re resting against the side of the car, waiting for Geto to catch up. Feeling on edge, like you might cry. The last time you’d seen Gojo in person, you’d been wrapped up in his arms kept warm and safe. To be so intimate with him only to fumble over your own words and act so cold after, you feel stupid.

Eyes fixed on your shoes like they’re the most interesting thing in the world, seeing Geto’s own coming into view when he approaches you.

“You doing okay?”

“You’ve been asking that a lot lately,” looking to him, “how about you?”

By the look on his face, you can tell he doesn’t understand why you’re asking. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, I was just asking cause… you know,” rocking side to side on your feet, “if Gojo’s here then it means they might choose to—”

He waves a hand dismissively, “—Eh, I already knew they were probably gonna do something like this.” Mouth pulling to the side as he says, “I can’t tell if they’re bold or diabolical, booking us both in around the same time.”

You add, “Probably both.”

“You look sad,” his comment is decidedly not needed but he made it anyway, you suppose he doesn’t want to talk about himself.

“Just… overwhelmed, I wasn’t expecting to run into Gojo. No offence but it feels dirty to work for you sometimes.”

It’s painfully silent for a moment and you wonder if you did offend him. Concern gone when he asks, “Did you need a hug or something?”

Glare pointed, “No.”

A chuckle leaves him at your distaste, “Then get in the car and let’s leave.”

You had half expected for Gojo to text you again after you’d run into him, but he didn’t, phone suspiciously silent. It has you more on edge than if he had tried calling you. Still thinking about it the next day, wondering if maybe you should reach out to him first this time and take him up on his offer, just get it all over with.

To be honest, you don’t even know what you were expecting. If you’re working in the same field with him, you were obviously going to run into each other at some point. Were you hoping he’d never find out about you working for Geto? Was that realistic of you? Should you even feel guilty? It’s not personal, you just really needed money and Geto happened to show up when you were sick of applying for jobs.

You’re choosing to chalk your guilt up to the fact you slept with him before you’d left, you don’t… regret it but maybe things would’ve been easier for you if you hadn’t. The amount you think about that night is probably bordering on excessive. The memory of his big hands on your body still firmly planted in your mind, along with the way his lips felt against yours.

A new kind of guilt travels up your spine, kissing Geto after having been with Gojo feels weird. If Gojo hadn’t messaged at that moment, would you have gone all the way with your current boss. What ifs don’t exactly help your situation, but you may be spiralling a bit.

A familiar, soft hum sounds from nearby, “Hm, you’re slacking off.”

Your response is automatic, “You can’t talk,” and then you’re registering just who had said that. “What? How did you even get up here?”

Gojo grins, pulling one of the chairs against the wall to the front of your desk. Sitting down in it casually, like he’s not shown up completely unexpectedly. “It’s amazing how far you can get when you act like you belong somewhere,” quickly adding, “and are willing to lie.”

He really does have a great sense of time because Geto’s not here, having gone out earlier for some secret meeting he wouldn’t disclose to you. The idea that Gojo might have had something to do with that briefly crossing your mind before you shake it.

“You got time now?” His arms crossed at you.

“I’m literally in the middle of my workday.”

“Oh please,” he grumbles. “You were daydreaming.”

Flipping it back on him, “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Sure, but I thought seeing you was more important.”

Unable to help the small giddy feeling that runs through you at that, it’s not like he ever prioritises work over his whims anyway but still. You change the topic, feeling sheepish asking, “How have you been?”

He’s refusing to give you a direct answer, “How do you think I’ve been?”

“Gojo—”

“—Oh, it’s ‘Gojo’ now?” evil grin on his face, “It was ‘Satoru’ when I was balls deep inside you.”

Your lips purse at that, caught off guard and not quite sure how he wants you to respond. Turns out you don’t need to because he carries on.

“Why are you working here?” he’s pouting now, “Suguru sucks, I’m a much better boss.”

“You know I didn’t want to leave,” you sigh. “I ran into him a couple weeks ago; he offered me a job again and after thinking about it… I took it.”

“Is this why you won’t reply to any of my texts?”

“No…”

“You’ve been hurting my feelings, sweetie,” still pouting, “had me wondering if I’d done something wrong.”

You answer quickly then, “No.” Settling back into your seat, “Things have just been a bit… hard for me lately. None of it is because of you.”

“Then can you tell me what the hell is going on with you?” Gesturing at nothing frustratedly, “I know you put Nanami down as a reference, why wouldn’t you put me? You know, your former boss.”

“I felt it would be cruel.”

He softens at that, his brows unfurrowing. “I’m taking that to mean you at least care about me.”

“Of course I do.” The thought of him walking around thinking you don’t care for him hurts you… a lot. You can’t exactly blame him though, to him, you’ve probably been frustratingly secretive and evasive.

“Are you happy here?”

Hesitating a bit before replying, “Yes.” Because you are… happy here. Or at least, you’re happier here compared to the café.

There’s a look on his face that tells you he’s seeing right through you. “Your position is still open.”

“You need to fill it.”

“I’m not going to.”

“That’s stupid.” And it is stupid, but your heart skips a beat.

Raising to his feet, he stretches his long limbs, “I don’t think so.”

You’re standing up instinctively, intending to walk him to the elevator.

Gojo’s rounding your desk though, standing in front of you, “I intend to keep it open until you come back, I told you that.”

“And I’m telling you that that’s unrealistic.”

He cups the side of your face and smiles, “Don’t care.” Then he pulls you in for a hug, holding you for a few moments before speaking again, “I’ve gotta go, I don’t wanna be here when Suguru gets back.”

“How did you even know he was out?” If it comes out accusatory that’s because it is, pretty certain now that he’s done something.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

You start, “Gojo—”

“—Ah,” cutting you off again, “I’ll see you later.”

And you’re sure that he kisses the top of your head before walking off. As you watch him leave, you half hope he’ll come back but that’s just selfish. You know if you told him everything, he’d help, he absolutely would. But you’re not going to put him in that position. Neither being his former employee nor one night stand entitles you to asking for financial help.

After he leaves, you take your break. Not getting to see Geto beforehand, you don’t really want to at the moment. Feeling incredibly cut open and raw, on the verge of telling everything to the first person you see because the weight of it all is getting to you. It has been for weeks.

There’s a utility closet on the floor below yours that doesn’t get utilised much and you’ve taken to hiding out in there when you need to be alone. The slightly dusty items keeping you company as you wallow, it’s truly the only time you get to be by yourself. At home has your parents and when you’re at your desk you’re, well, working. The streets are filled with people, on the weekend and during lunch. So, this small closet has become a great safe space.

If you tried, you could probably cry. You wonder if it would make you feel better. Instead of doing that, you find an old broom and turn it upside down, resting it against some shelves in front of you. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a pad of sticky notes and a pen. Crudely drawing down a face, trying to make it look as approachable as you can. Then you stick it onto the broom.

“I should probably name you,” humming in thought, “You will now be called… Dusty.”

Dusty’s sticky note face flutters to the ground as soon as you finish the sentence, and you try not to take it personally.

“Okay, I know it’s not the best name but it’s the best I’ve got.” Picking up the bit of paper, you stick it to Dusty once more, running your fingers over the sticky part a few times in hopes it’ll coax it into staying this time.

Once you’re satisfied, you back off until you’re resting against the wall opposite him. “Maybe feeling like I’m talking to someone will help.” Gesturing at the broom, “That’s where you come into play, Dusty.”

You take in a slow breath and breathe it out before starting, “I miss my old life,” shuffling on your feet a little because it feels weird to say out loud, “I miss my coworkers and… Satoru.” Head thumping back against the wall, “The worst part is that I have no one to blame but myself… and I guess my ex-roommate situationship… sorta.”

You get distracted with an anger you’d stuffed down ages ago, only to be pulled from it very suddenly when Dusty falls to the ground with a loud clash. It causes you to jump. The image of Dusty face down on the ground resonates with you though. Emotionally in the same state as him.

Huffing out a small chuckle, “Yeah, I feel the same, Dusty.”

Your phone ringing in your pocket draws your attention away from the broom before you can prop it back upright. Geto’s caller ID scrawled across the screen, pausing for a moment but ultimately picking up. He is your boss; you should pick up even if it is your lunch break.

Beginning to slide down the wall to sit when you answer, “Hello?”

 “Where are you?” Always so straight to the point.

Eyes fixed on Dusty, “…On my lunch break.”

“So… the sounds I’m hearing from this closet are just my imagination?”

Pausing again, glancing at the closed door, “…Yes?”

He hangs up the phone at that, choosing to just walk into the closet. Immediately faced with the sight of a sad broom on the floor and then over at you sitting awkwardly against the far-right wall.

“…How was your meeting?” Your smile is uncomfortable on your face.

Geto looks to the broom, then to you, then back to the broom. “Bad,” walking into the room and picking up Dusty. Miraculously—or maybe not so much—the sticky note face is still there, and he points at it quizzically, “You do this?”

“No, that’d be weird.”

A soft laugh leaves him as he places it back down. Then he moves to sit beside you on the floor. The sight of his expensive suit resting against a dusty closets wall and floor tickles you a little. You both don’t speak, just sitting in each other’s presence.

You get curious though, “Why was your meeting bad?”

“Wasn’t real,” he grumbles, “Satoru set it up, I’m guessing this is a little taste of revenge for stealing you away. Wasting my valuable time.”

The idea of his time being valuable but making space to sit on the floor in this room with you is amusing. At least now you know why Gojo had such good timing and didn’t stick around. You’re not going to tell Geto about that though.

Choosing to change the topic again, “How did you even know where I was?”

“I’ve seen you head to this floor before a few times,” he shrugs, “I got curious, imagine my surprise to find you in here talking to a broom.”

“Of course, the one time I do that I get caught.”

“You were talking to the broom then?”

“His name is Dusty,” correcting him jokingly, “and yeah.”

He offers, “Do you want to talk to me instead?”

“Not really.”

Laughing a little at your immediate response, “I’ll try not to take offence.”

Gesturing across the room as you say, “If I wanted to talk to an actual person I wouldn’t be talking to a broom.”

He corrects you this time, “Dusty.”

You snicker at that, “Right. Dusty.”

Geto doesn’t force anymore information out of you, he just stays with you while you consider things. Maybe the fact that there’s no pressure is the reason behind why you decide to open up to him a bit. “I’ve been having a hard time financially; it’s why I had to leave my job and move here. I’m living with my parents.”

“Satoru doesn’t know?”

“Nope,” your head turns to look at him, finding him already looking back at you, “I was worried he’d do something drastic.” A bitter laugh leaving you, “I’m already in debt, I don’t want to owe him too.”

Watching you for a bit and then asking, “How bad is it?”

“Bad.” Sighing as you look forward again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything.” Ghost of a smile on your lips directed at him.

“I could—”

“—No, you couldn’t.”

“Okay, then in that case, I’m here if you want to talk about it some more.”

You face him once more, he’s closer than you thought, and everything feels tense. Geto’s eyes flick to your lips and you’re reminded of what happened just the other night. Head flipping forward before anything can happen.

Oddly enough, you think kissing him that night brought you two closer together. Though, you don’t know if that’s the same for him. The quiet is nice, it doesn’t feel so pitiful with him here beside you.

Despite yourself, you start talking again, “I had a roommate.”

“Hm?”

“Before I moved,” you sigh, “I had a roommate, an old friend sort of. Our relationship was… complicated.” Your legs draw up and you tuck your knees to your chest, “He moved out last minute and made it hard for me to stay in the apartment.”

Geto’s brows draw up, “You don’t know where he is?”

“Nope.” Lips down turning, pissed off at the memory, “Just left a shitty note and ran off.” It’s not the full story but it’s more than anyone else has gotten up until now.

After a moments pause, Geto asks, “Have you tried looking for him?”

“There wouldn’t be much point,” shrugging, “he doesn’t want to be found and it’s not like I’d want him to be my roommate again,” you laugh a little.

Geto doesn’t laugh, “I’m assuming he owes you some money though.”

More than some, “Sure but I’m pretty certain he’s not going to cough it up even if I did find him.” You stand up now, “Don’t worry too much about it Geto, what’s done is done.”

He gets to his feet as well, “It might be worth looking for him.”

“Nah,” you crack your back, done talking about this now.

A bit of regret is creeping up your spine, you don’t enjoy talking about these kinds of things and oversharing with your boss is not the move. In saying that though, it was nice to share even if it was just a bit. There’s so much you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long, for someone to listen felt good even if you’re feeling a little exposed because of it.

As if Geto can sense your unease, he says unprompted, “I’m worried about the meeting yesterday.”

You look to him, choosing to stay quiet because he doesn’t seem to be finished talking.

“I think they’ll end up going with Satoru and that’s frustrating for a multitude of reasons,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to deal with them for some time now, to have them look elsewhere in the final hour…” he trails off before finishing, “What’s done is done though.” Repeating your words back at you.

“I get the frustration,” you offer a smile. You’d seen how annoyed Gojo got whenever Geto got business with a company he’d been working. To see the other side is a little weird, especially since you find yourself still rooting for Gojo. “Thanks for sharing.”

“Yeah, you too.” He places a hand atop your head, and pretends to be stern, “Now get back to work, breaks over.”

“Yessir,” you reply stiffly and with a curt nod.

The pair of you leave that stuffy closet and head back upstairs to finish off the rest of the workday.

The end of your third week working with Geto is the same as it has been. You’d been worried that confiding in him like you did—or even the kiss—would change your working relationship but things have been smooth. If you had to make note of anything changing, you’d say that you both seem to be closer now.

Typically, when you open up to people in similar ways, you’re later flooded with regret. Asking yourself why you’d shared so much, with Geto it’s not so bad. He’s hard to read though, sometimes you find yourself watching his expressions extra close to try and see how he’s feeling but it’s not easy at all. You’d hate to play poker with him.

You’re just about running low on things to make yourself busy with when Geto’s asking you to come into his office. Entering hesitantly, suddenly feeling a whole lot like you’re being called into the principal’s office for some reason.

“Our last meeting…” he starts, “you were taking note of everything said.”

“Yeah.” Nodding back.

“Could I look at them?”

“Sure,” you turn to head back out, stating as you go, “though I don’t know how helpful it’ll be.”

When you walk back, Geto’s patiently waiting for your notes. Taking them from your extended hand and immediately flicking through them. His brows pinch a little as he glances over everything you had written down.

“You’ve used some shorthand,” glaring at it a little like that will make it more readable for him, “I don’t recognise it.”

“It’s not real shorthand…” you look away, feeling a little shy, “it’s just so I can read it back… I only do it when the conversation is going too quickly.”

“Sit down,” he points to the chair to your side.

Now you really feel like you’re in trouble, sitting down as he said.

After a moment, he looks up from the pages and looks you over, “Why are you sitting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a kicked puppy.”

“I’m sitting normally,” arms crossing in front of you, “why do I need to stay in here?”

“So you can decipher these notes,” finally cracking a smile.

You feel yourself physically relax at his smile, “You were there for the meeting, Geto. You should remember what was said.”

“I was distracted,” shrugging it off.

“You were bored.”

Grinning a little wider at you, “That’s what I said.”

You roll your eyes at him but move the chair closer to his desk so you can better assist him in his reread. You weren’t wrong in doubting the usefulness of your notes. They’d spent a good chunk of the meeting repeating themselves and refusing to communicate properly what they were looking for. The idea of Gojo sitting through a meeting with them is funny, you can’t imagine he’d behave. It brings into question why Geto feels like they’re going with Gojo over him.

After you’ve gone over everything, Geto groans and relaxes further into his chair. “They’re so uncooperative.” Sighing, “The meeting was just as unproductive as I remember it being.”

Joking with him a little, “You’re not so confident they love you anymore?”

“Way to kick a man when he’s down,” but he smiles a little, clearly not hurt.

“So,” you prompt, “what are you going to do now?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” His fingers are tapping rhythmically on the desk, a familiar tune you can’t quite place. It then stops suddenly, “By any chance, were you still working for Satoru when they reached out?”

You pause a little at his question, giving him the benefit of the doubt by answering, “We reached out to them but never got a substantial response.”

That piques his interest a little, “What did—”

Before he can finish asking, you shut him down professionally, “—I’m not at liberty to discuss details pertaining to my previous employment.”

“Of course not,” he smiles politely.

“If that’s all,” you plaster a pleasant look on your face and wait for him to speak.

“Yes, that’s all. Thank you,” he says your name and with that you leave his office.

The whole interaction is painted with the quiet fact that you both know this has done damage to your budding friendship. It hurts more than you thought it would, now questioning if he was just buttering you up to be able to ask you questions like that without any push back. Even if you didn’t feel loyalty to Gojo, you’re a professional and you wouldn’t talk about a company’s inner workings after leaving.

Of course it happens when you were just thinking about how nice it felt to open up. And maybe it’s still true that talking to someone was good, it’s just now laced with a severe distaste and faint feeling of betrayal. Whatever, this was your own blunder, just another in a long list of things you’ve messed up recently.

You’re choosing not to think too hard about it, you need this job. It just means you won’t be trusting him anytime soon. This sucks. You’ve not been having an especially easy time making friends here and to have the one person you thought of as one seemingly use you for information… sucks.

Just a few more hours and you get to clock off and go home for a whole couple days. The weekend looks especially welcoming now, your parents will be gone for a bit, and you’ll get some down time. Having an empty house sounds so good, you’ll be able to exist in your space without them asking questions you can’t or don’t have the answers to.

That weekend you were so looking forward to flies by in the blink of an eye. Though you did get some time to indulge in some hobbies you’d been neglecting, you even sat in the lounge and watched a movie. Truly, your life is so exciting lately.

It’s unfortunate that it’s already Sunday though, your parents will be home later in the evening, and you’ll have to get yourself emotionally ready to go into work tomorrow. You don’t know if you’re ready to see Geto, unsure how you’ll react now that you feel used. You’d truly believed him when he said he was hiring you for you and not because of your connection to Gojo.

You’re in the middle of your evening routine when there’s a knock at the door. It has you pausing and considering ignoring whoever it may be but then it comes again and you relent. Heading towards the door and opening it a crack. The sight of Gojo on your doorstep truly stuns you, mouth opening at him because how does he even know you’re here?

He leans down, apparently pleased with your shock. “You gonna invite me in, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure if it’s such a good idea but you’ve missed him so much, so you’re stepping to the side and opening the door more for him to step inside. He enters easily, slipping his shoes off before wandering further into the house.

You follow after him, deciding a little late to be a good host. “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure,” he replies chirpily, finding his own way to the kitchen and sitting at the table.

The decently sized kitchen feels much smaller with him in it, his frame making the chairs look ridiculous. Choosing to ignore the way your heart races in his presence, you silently make two cups of tea. Piling sugar into Gojo’s, remembering that he can’t drink it without.

Placing the cup down in front of him, you ask, “How did you know to find me here?”

The only response you get is a smile and the view of him taking a sip of his tea. You groan a little at his reluctance, but if you had to guess, he probably just annoyed it out of Nanami. Moving, you sit down across from him and nurse your own mug.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he states plainly, “I’ve missed you.”

It comes easily to him but saying you missed him as well is hard for you and you can’t really understand why.

Gojo doesn’t let the silence linger long, “How’s Suguru treating you?”

He meant it conversationally but it’s just another sharp reminder that you’ve gotten close to someone who probably doesn’t care much for you at all. “Good.”

When you look up from your tea, his eyes are looking back at you. It’s hard to keep eye contact so you look back to your warm drink, “I– uhm,” you shift awkwardly, “I miss working for you though.”

Reply fast and exactly what you expected, “Come back.”

“I can’t, I really want to,” you look back to him, holding his gaze firmly, “I didn’t leave because I wanted to, Gojo. I had to uproot my whole life; I’m living with my parents.”

“Tell me why then,” he frowns at you, frustration bleeding through his tone, “why did you leave? Why are you living here? Why won’t you just let me help you?”

Your brow twitches, “Am I supposed to ask my boss for financial help? Am I supposed to complain about my personal issues to you and hope you whisk me away and fix them all? I’m an adult, Gojo, and I have no right to ask that of you.”

“You were always more than just an employee to me,” he says your name, “You slept with me and you still didn’t give me any sort of explanation.”

“It was a one-night stand,” you brush it off, trying to lessen it. That’s how you’ve been rationalising it to yourself for the past couple months.

“Not to me,” pointing at you accusatorily, “and you can’t really believe that.”

“Gojo—”

“—I’m sick of not knowing, I’m sick of worrying about you,” his arms fold stubbornly, “I’m not leaving until you tell me everything.”

“It’s not exactly something I want to talk about,” especially not after recent events. You can tell by the expression on Gojo’s face that he’s serious though, and you can do without your parents coming home to see this stranger in their house. “The short of it is that I had a roommate, he moved out without notice, I couldn’t afford my apartment anymore, I moved home.”

Not satisfied, asking, “And what’s the long of it?”

“If I tell you everything, you’re just going to pity me and try to fix it all.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes! I don’t want to owe you too, Gojo.”

He doesn’t miss it, your phrasing catching his attention, “Too?”

“I may or may not be in debt.” In this specific moment, you’re finding the ceiling to be very interesting.

Your name comes sighed from him, “What kind of mess have you gotten into?”

“I didn’t get myself into any mess, thank you very much.” You’re finding yourself backed into a corner.

Instead of forcing your hand, Gojo suggests, “If I promise to not do anything you don’t agree to, will you tell me what’s really been going on.”

At his offer, you look him over carefully. Quietly deciding if you should or shouldn’t. Maybe at one point in your life, he was just your employer, but he became much more than that pretty quickly and you might’ve been tricking yourself by pretending otherwise. You really have missed him so much and you can’t find it in yourself to keep pushing him away.

You find that his suggestion gives you no reason to hide anything from him. You’d only been worried about what he might do, not what he might think of you. So, you’re relenting. “Fine, but you have to promise,” you hold your hand out across the table, “pinkie promise.”

Gojo can’t hide the way he softens at that, faithfully raising his hand to wrap his pinkie around yours to seal it. “I promise.”

You nod like it’s some sort of binding spell and pull back. Exhaling softly as you begin, “My roommate and I had a complex and sometimes difficult… relationship… we weren’t dating but we’d been more than friends. I’d known him for a long time, it’s why I trusted him to live with me.”

The way Gojo looks is displeased already and you can’t quite pin down why but you carry on, “At some point I guess he got really into gambling,” you shrug, “he put me down as his guarantor without my knowledge. Obviously not legally but he wasn’t gambling legally so I suppose it hardly matters.”

Gojo’s frown deepens, cutting in to ask, “And he moved out after that?”

“Yeah, I guess he got too far in over his own head and felt like he had to run.” It’s taking a lot for you to tell this story; it’s been a while now since this happened and you’ve not told anyone all the details like this. Ever. “He left a note behind, but it didn’t say anything about where he was going or if he’d come back, or even if he’d pay me back.”

There’s a pause from you but that’s not the end of your story and Gojo doesn’t interject again, so you keep talking. “I started making the payments for him, I mean there’s not really anything else I could do in that position. Eventually my savings ran low and the apartment was expensive by myself, so I resigned and moved home.”

Your finger traces the rim of your mug, “It looked bad for a moment though, finding a new job was hard but that’s when Geto showed up at the café I was working at and offered me a position with him.” Risking a glance up as you add, “It didn’t feel… right, working for him but I’m not exactly in the position to be worrying about that stuff right now.”

Gojo looks the angriest you’ve ever seen, you almost can’t recognise him. He takes in a controlled breath to calm himself and he relaxes a little. “I’m glad you finally told me.”

And you can tell that’s not what he really wants to say but he still means it, “I wanted to tell you so many times, Gojo. It’s just… I’m not exactly proud of this and I didn’t want you to offer me money.”

“Oh, I’m still going to offer,” he replies immediately, “if you ever decide you want me to pay the debt, I will.”

“No,” your gaze is unwavering. “Not only will I feel like I owe you, It’d be you paying for him and that doesn’t feel right. You don’t get to fix this for him.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” he points out.

“Yeah, but at least I knew him.”

“At least I can afford it.”

“Okay, ouch.” You huff a small laugh despite the accurate jab. “Now I’m definitely declining your offer.”

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Tch, you’re still stubborn.”

You ignore his unneeded and obvious comment, “How have you been, Gojo? Really?” You never did get a straight answer.

“Bad, my whole company is imploding because my favourite employee left.”

“You’re so full of it,” you call him out, “from what I can tell you’re going to get that big deal soon.”

“Oh?” he grins, “Suguru not feeling so sure of himself anymore?”

Standing to your feet and collecting the mugs, “You both have to leave me out of this feud you’ve got going on, I’m a professional.”

“Both of us,” his eyes track your movements, “what the hell has he been asking?”

“It’s nothing,” walking over to the sink to wash up, “Gojo I’m serious, leave me out of this.”

“Did you tell him the same thing?” he’s gotten up himself, standing right behind you. Both his arms cage your sides and leave you trapped facing the sink.

You’re trying to ignore the body heat radiating off him, focusing closely on how you rinse your mug. His face is so close and if you turned even a little to the side it’d become much more intimate than your heart can take.

“I told him I can’t discuss information about my previous employment.”

He hums low, “I bet you were all professional about it too.”

Placing the mugs in the drying rack, you turn around so you’re facing him. He’d refused to move back, letting you brush against him as you’d turned. “What are you doing, Gojo?”

“If I said I’m trying to seduce you, how would that make you feel?”

Truthfully, you don’t dislike it, but you can’t ignore the feelings of this being too soon. “You don’t want to do that.”

His head tilts at you, “I don’t?” Hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

The comfort you find in him is immense, feeling a weight off your chest by finally getting to tell him everything. You’re hesitant to start anything with him though, you’ve only just gotten to see each other for longer than a moment. Not to mention, you’d kissed Geto only a week ago.

When he leans in, you place a hand over his mouth, “I’m serious, Gojo.”

The intensity in his gaze tells you he’s communicating the same thing.

You rush out, “Geto and I kissed.”

A hand reaches up and grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his mouth. His only question, “Why?”

“I don’t really know…” you look away from him, “I was at his place, and we kissed… it didn’t go any further than that.”

As of right now, you and Gojo aren’t anything to each other but former employer and employee—and one-night stands. So, you aren’t really sure why you felt like you owed him that information, but it felt wrong to withhold it.

“So… you won’t kiss me because you kissed him?” He hasn’t stepped back, still invading your personal space.

“I’m saying you don’t want to kiss me because of that.”

“That’s odd,” he murmurs. “Because I could swear I still want to kiss you.”

That stumps you, deciding to be blunt, “You’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m furious.” He touches you so gently, holding your hand, “Just… not at you.”

And since you’re on a roll of honesty, “I’ve missed you.”

“Good.” His eyes search yours, both hands holding your face, “Because I’ve missed you like crazy.”

His lips on yours are familiar and have you melting all too quickly, hands clutching onto his shirt as you meet his needy kisses. He’s not taking it slow, too desperate to. Immediately kissing you messily, tongue meeting yours. You hum against him, letting him guide your kiss hotly.

You’re pressed back against the countertop; he’s moved in closer even though there wasn’t much space between the two of you to begin with. One of his hands move from your face to slide down your body, grasping your hip firmly. A small sound resembling a moan passes from you to him and he swallows it down greedily.

Hand now on your back and gliding under your shirt, resting against your bare skin. His direct touch lights something aflame inside you, knees nearly buckling from how much you’re enjoying just a kiss.

Now that he’s finally got his hands on you, he’s so touchy feely. Hands groping all over your body, both sneaking under the waistband of your sleep shorts and palming your ass. You’re gasping against him over it, breaking the messy kiss.

A string of saliva connecting your lips still, it snaps when you talk, “Gojo, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Enjoying the moment?” He lets his lips trail lower, tickling against your cheek, then down your neck. His hands still firmly planted on the globes of your ass.

“You might be enjoying it too much– hff—”

Gojo’s pulled your cheeks apart, tips of his fingers grazing your wet pussy through your panties. Your forehead collapses against his chest and your hands clutch at his shirt harder, legs very quickly getting wobbly.

“Go easy on me,” he speaks into the top of your head, “I haven’t had the chance to touch you in fucking ages.”

Using his middle finger, he traces and prods at your hole. Chest vibrating with a pleasant hum at how wet you seem to be. Playing with you just to work you up, you can’t help but think of it as a kind of punishment for avoiding him.

Breaths coming faster, “We’re not doing this in my parents’ kitchen.”

“And what exactly is it we’re doing?” He teases further, just to embarrass you for assuming anything.

You look up to him, chin resting on his chest as you shoot him with a glare.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping that will do,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “but you’re really turning me on.”

And just as you’re about to shove some expletives his way, he’s nearly penetrating you through your underwear. Mewls leaving you at the friction, more slick dripping from you and coating your panties.

“Fuck– okay, fine,” he caves without any further complaint from you, “where’s your room, sweetie?”

It takes quite the effort for you to nod in the correct direction, “Over there.”

Finally, he removes his hands from your pants, holding your hand as he drags you over to where you signalled. “It’s cute,” he comments once inside.

The walls are still painted a slightly too bright pink, old posters you hadn’t taken down still plastered on them. The furniture is a little outdated, you’d gotten everything new when you’d finally been able to move out and that’s all in storage. Your bed isn’t even meant for more than one person.

Muttering back, “Shut up.” Your parents had painted the walls when they’d found out they were having a girl and never let you change it, even as you matured. The posters you’d kept up because you’re still you.

“I didn’t say anything bad,” he chuckles. His eyes fix on the bed, “This is gonna be a tight squeeze…” he purses his lips and then smiles, “though I suppose it was last time too—”

He grunts as you jab him in the side, “Not a necessary comment.”

“I disagree,” Gojo turns to you grinning, “but we can agree to disagree.”

His hands are all over you again, tugging at your shirt as he walks you back to the bed in the corner. Mouth slotting over yours after he’s pulled off your sleep shirt, met with your bare breasts because you weren’t expecting visitors. At the sight of you, he’s distracted. Groping at your tits, pinching your nipples.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says low, staring at your boobs instead of you.

You’re trying to ignore how worked up he’s getting you, “You’re such a– hah– romantic.”

“Tonight I’m seducing you,” he pushes you down onto the bed, “tomorrow I can be romantic.”

Your pants are next to go, yanked down your legs, along with your panties. Left completely naked on your own bed while he’s fully dressed, it hardly seems fair. He’s leaning over you just as you’re about to complain about it, then your words are hard to vocalise when he’s got his mouth around your nipple. Tongue flicking at you cruelly, relishing how you jolt each time he does.

The old bed creaks under his added weight and your squirming. His eyes heated as he looks up to keep eye contact with you, two fingers slipping inside your hot cunt as he continues licking and sucking at you. Biting at you gently when his digits are as deep inside you as he can get them. The moan you let out is embarrassingly sinful, your hand coming up to smother down the noises escaping you.

Gojo finally lets your nipple go with a lewd pop, “I was right,” his fingers crook upwards and stroke against the spot he knows drives you wild, “it’s gonna be a tight fit.”

And he’s laughing at his own joke but all you can do is mutter back a half-hearted, “Pervert.”

He doesn’t dignify it with a response, feeling it’s already been pretty well established how he gets over you. Moving his attention instead to your other nipple, sucking and biting hickeys around it before enveloping it in his mouth. Not letting up on how he’s fingering you open, scissoring apart his fingers.

Keeping you open just to savour how you drip fresh slick down his digits and onto the bed spread. It’s pitiful how on edge you already feel, he knows your body so well. Remembering exactly how to touch you to rile you up.

Thumb sliding over your clit, rubbing messy circles around it. He’s avoiding touching your sensitive nerves directly, teasing you carefully. It’s completely frustrating, he could have you cumming in ten seconds flat but he’s not letting you. Instead, he’s carefully building your orgasm up but never pushing you over that ledge.

Bright eyes looking through full lashes at you, mouth coming off your nipple. He makes a show of it, giving you a final harsh lick, tongue hanging from his mouth as he retreats. It’s hot and makes you whimper a little, though that could also be his fingers fucking knuckle deep and stroking your weak spot.

He’s grinning at your reaction, “Have I said how much I’ve missed you, I can’t remember?”

“I think– hng– think you mentioned it,” it’s hard to keep focus on him. Your high so close, if you just ignore how condescendingly he’s smiling at you, you could—

“Close?” Gojo asks.

You nod back quickly at him, biting into your lower lip. Then, he cruelly pulls his fingers from you. Leaving you a panting mess craving for your release. Your thighs rub together, trying to make up for what you lost but it can’t compare even a little bit.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” lips on yours, kissing you deep before continuing, “but I feel the need to tease you a little extra, since you left me and all.”

He does, however, grace your eyes by removing his shirt. Torso just as toned and enticing as the last time you saw it. His belt comes undone next, popping the button on his pants but not doing any more than that. Returning his attention back to you.

Hands gliding up and down the sides of your body, ever the clingy type in how he pulls at your soft skin. It’s while he’s palming at you that you tell him, “You don’t have all night for this,” informing him, “my parents come back tonight.”

“How scandalous,” he’s amused despite the ticking clock.

“Gojo, I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” his hands push your legs apart, wide, “and I was too. You hurt my feelings so I’m gonna edge you a little.” Before you can whine about that he says, “Just a bit! I’m not gonna leave here without fucking that divine pussy of yours, I swear. I’m not crazy.”

Humming happily as he runs a thumb between your folds, pressing into your clit. Circling it directly this time, focusing his touch straight on your sensitive nub. You’re squirming on the bed over it, wanting to shut your legs and being unable to. Gojo’s got himself firmly planted between your open legs and making it difficult for you to do anything but take the overwhelming pleasure.

And then he stops, looking around the bed as he mentions, “Your bed really is tiny.”

You’re shaking from your almost high, but you still manage to bite back, “It’s– hff– it’s not tiny you’re just a giant– ah!—”

He’d climbed off the foot of your bed while you were talking and tugged you down to the edge of it by your ankles, effectively cutting you off. Able to feel his breath against your dripping cunt, it’s making you needier.

“You’re so pretty,” mouthing against your inner thighs as he rambles, “I can’t even sit in my office without think about you. It’s cruel, really. I get hard at the memory of that night and can’t leave my office because I can’t fucking stand.”

He dives headfirst into your pussy after that, licking at you crudely. His tongue slithering inside your gooey hole. Just as good at this as you remember him being, slurping at you and letting it drip all over his face.

Gojo’s eyes roll a little, having desperately missed the taste of you. Moaning into your cunt, he can’t help but get carried away. Your squirming and whining only spurring him on, sucking on your clit. Not able to leave your hole unfilled for long though, tonguing you again. Making out with your pussy lips obscenely.

Getting so caught up in it that he’s almost forgetting that he’s meant to be edging you. Feeling the telltale shudders running through you and pulling away, eyes amused as he watches your hole twitch around nothing. You’re clawing at the sheets as you whimper sadly at the loss.

“Mm sorry,” you whinge at him, because you really are but you also don’t want to take anymore edging.

“Barely heard from you,” his fingers circle around your entrance, “only a few replies– do you know how much I held back from texting you and when I did I only sometimes got a reply.” Those fingers stretching you open again, “So mean to me.”

You’d apologise more, maybe even try to explain yourself but he’s finger fucking you stupid and it’s making it hard to form a coherent thought. Barely even coming down from your almost high and he’s immediately touching you again. This cycle is going to kill you, feeling like your nerves themselves are vibrating. Desperate ache beginning in the pit of your stomach and buzzing down to your sensitive cunt.

Thoughts are all fuzzy in your head as he reaches so deep inside you, not caressing you like he was earlier. Properly fucking you with his fingers, palm slapping against your clit. The harshness of it feels so damn good, urgently needing it deep and quick.

You’re begging before you even register it, “Please, Gojo– hnn– please let me cum– hah– I’m so sorry– hng!– I’m sorry!”

He bites your inner thigh in response, hard enough to leave a mark and make you mewl. Then he sucks over it, finally laving over it with his tongue as he parts. “I know you are,” he faux pouts.

And since he seems to be on a cruelty streak tonight, he continues driving you crazy for a little bit longer than the times before. Dangerously close to the precipice, back arching meanly for it. Only to be let down once more, his fingers ripping from you so callously at the very last second.

It’s agony, tears filling your waterline. You’re even sitting up straight this time, lower lip quivering as you sulk down at Gojo. He’s smiling pleasantly at you, resting his head on your thigh and looking up like he’s not the mastermind behind your current torture.

Glibly adding, “You know, this is more a punishment for me,” nosing at your soft skin, “I love watching you cum– I love making you cum.”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug back and frown at him. He can only grin back at you, apparently exactly where he wants to be. You whine at him, “You’re being mean.”

“You don’t have to cry about it,” he reaches up and swipes a thumb high on your cheekbone, wiping away a tear.

“I’m not crying because you’re mean,” tugging on his hair a little harsher, “I’m crying cause I’m frustrated.”

“I know,” he laughs breathlessly, and with how you’ve pulled his head back further, you’re able to see his throat bob as he swallows, “It’s kinda cute of you.”

“Gojo—”

“—Mmm,” his face pulls in distaste, “I liked it better when you were calling me Satoru.”

You hate how attracted to him you are right now. Pulled back by his hair, eyes alight with mischief and mouth formed into a large smile. His canines are on display in a way that makes you shiver. He’d just sunk them into your skin no more than a few minutes ago and the thought turns you on further.

“What ya thinking about?” His question coming singsong and lilted.

You’re feeling spiteful though, so you don’t answer, “Nothing.”

“Such an evil woman,” he overdramatises, but leans forward, raising as he goes. “So mean to me,” your hand releases him and he presses kisses to your lips over and over, continuing to talk as he does, “doesn’t call, doesn’t text, refers to me unfamiliarly, won’t tell me what she’s thinking about.”

You’re letting him complain, getting lost in his kisses as he does. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him a little closer and kiss him a little deeper. Preferring he keep his mouth open only to swallow down your moans, not wanting him to pull back anymore.

While he’s kissing you, he uses his middle finger to delicately circle your clit. Moaning back at you when you let slip a pitiful, little whimper. Beginning to get hypersensitive from all his teasing. He was already able to get you close quickly, it’s even worse with all this edging.

Clinging to him a little more desperately the closer you get, hoping that maybe this time will be different. Maybe he’s done teasing you and even though you won’t be cumming on his dick you will finally get to cum.

And just as you’re stuck in your delusion of him forgetting why he’s doing this to you in the first place, he stops. Hand leaving the warmth of in between your thighs and the slick of your drooling cunt to hold your face. Greedily sucking on your tongue and all your moans, the sad moans of an almost orgasm engulfed by him.

When he pulls back, he does his best to comfort your shaking form. Soft pecks over your cheeks, kissing away some of your tears, “That was the last time, I promise.”

“It has to be,” you sound pathetic even to yourself, “I can’t take anymore.”

“I know,” he coos at you, “and you’ve done such a good job.”

Gojo parts from you completely, standing back so he can pull off his pants and boxers. His dick bobbing under its own weight, leaking precum profusely. It’s now that you realise just how much he’s probably been holding back.

And holding back he has been. Gojo’s damn near driven himself to insanity with all this edging. Close to cumming in his pants a few times just from touching you and getting to hear you moan again. Feeling deprived of you for so long that he can’t believe he actually managed to pull off playing with you without caving first.

“Lay back for me, yeah?” he nods back at your bed, “we’re gonna do our best to make this work.”

You have nothing snarky to say, feeling uncharacteristically docile as you slide back on the bed. Gojo appreciates it deeply, not knowing if he can prolong this much more. Climbing on the bed after you and parting your legs with his warm hands.

There’s no more preamble, quickly stretching you open on the head of his cock. Hissing through his teeth at how wet and creamy you are around his sensitive tip. His head falls back as he sinks deeper and deeper inside your gooey hole, inch by delicious inch. Rumbling moan pouring from him, unable to hold it back.

It’s been so long and he somehow feels bigger than last time, he’s splitting you open obscenely. It’s making your head spin, the overwhelming pleasure of him stuffing you full so satisfying you’re getting lost in it.

Then, while Gojo is biting back a whine, you’re cumming around him and he’s whimpering pitifully. Your plush walls hugging him tight and sucking him in needily, begging him for his whole dick. Obviously, he grants it, slamming the rest of the way inside and relishing in how your pussy bulges around him.

“Hah– I wasn’t even fully inside you yet,” he’s as breathless over it as he is happy, “that’s– fuuck– that’s hot. You’re so fucking cute.”

You’re still shuddering and shaking through your first and most powerful orgasm. Mind completely free of any kind of coherent thought. Only registering how fucking good you feel, how stuffed you feel and how good it is and how full your pussy is and—

Gojo taps the side of your face, “Stay with me, sweetie. I haven’t even started moving yet.”

Eyes blearily looking back at him, lazy ecstasy plastered all over your expression. The sight of you fills him with a kind of cuteness aggression, his hips slamming into you harshly as he leans down to crowd against you. Wrapping you in his arms and hugging you tight as he fucks you stupid.

His pelvis slapping against you fills the room with the slickest and lewdest sounds you’ve heard. The both of you moaning at each other, his name repeated from you over and over as he sheathes himself in your snug warmth repeatedly.

No coherent words come from you, nothing other than Satoru’s name. You can’t even be sure you’ve stopped cumming, feeling so high on the pleasure that it doesn’t feel like it has an end or a beginning anymore.

“Satoru– hng– hh—” Anything else you try to spit out isn’t understood, not to you anyways.

Though, Gojo seems to understand you fine, “I know, pretty,” he speaks against your ear, and it makes you shake, “you’re doing– hng– doing so good for me, sweetie. Taking it so well.”

He can’t stop his movements, it feels far too good to want to anyways. Your tight cunt squeezing so lovingly around him, it’s got his brain all fuzzy with lust. You respond to him so well, every time he moves, or speaks, you react in a way that’s intoxicating to him. The idea of you leaving again quite literally agonising to him.

Letting the insecurity get the better of him but doing his best to not let on. “If you ghost me again after this,” he nips your ear, pulling back to look you in the eyes and stilling his hips. Trying to show just how weighted his words are, “I won’t be nearly as relaxed about it next time.”

“Mm– hah– I– uhm I’m not gonna,” your legs wrap around his waist and tug him in impossibly closer, “Satoru, I promise.”

His dick twitches inside you, “I’ll be holding you to that.”

Kissing you after that, as if to seal the promise. Stifling down the pair of your moans when he starts fucking you again. It’s wet and sloppy and desperate, you’re trying your best to meet his thrusts but every time you try, his own hips slam you back down onto the bed. The very loud bed, creaking as he fucks you stupid.

Gojo’s feeling clingy tonight, so he keeps hugging himself to you despite his desire to see how he’s opening up your little hole. Just knowing you’re spilling slick all over his cock, no doubt a creamy ring at the base of his shaft.

“You’re– hff– you’re gonna message me back now, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh,” you hum back, trying to focus on him but your mind keeps slipping back to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Gonna let me– hng– let me take you out,” especially sharp thrust, “go on a date with me.”

That catches your attention, stumbling out, “You wanna– hnn– go on a date with me?”

“Of course I do,” he groans, like it’s so obvious. “I want to date you, regularly.” He grabs you by your chin and angles you so you’re looking at him straight, “Which is why you’re going to message me back.”

“I will– ngh– I will.”

He uses his hold on your chin to nod your head up and down. “I know you will.” Moving back so he can raise to his knees, he adds, “Now, let’s do something about that time limit.”

Shooting you an amused grin and then grabbing your hips, manhandling you and angling your hips upwards a bit. Using his hold on you to fuck you down onto him as he thrusts forward. Roughly thrusting into you and using his newfound leverage to his benefit. He even gets to watch how he shoves himself inside you, getting the glorious view of your greedy pussy taking him in so well.

He was so right too, you’re dribbling arousal all around him. Cock coated in a white sheen, both your fluids mixing together and making an indecent mess. It makes him deliriously happy to see how you’re connected, his heart hammering in his chest with excitement. You’re such a pretty thing, completely perfect to him.

If you disappear on him again, he’s going to do something drastic. He’s not thinking about that right now though, not when he has you in his hands and gets to fuck you until you’re squirming and whimpering his name. Devolving into a mess in his hold, he should try edging you again sometime. The payoff is huge, you’re not even aware of the little orgasms you’ve been continuously having while he fucks you.

The thrusts he’s delivering to you truly have your world tilting on its axis, you’d thought he had you a mess before but now you feel insane. It’s like he’s doubled his efforts; you can’t exactly pin down why. Brain not functioning well enough to properly understand the time limit he’s referring to. Officially dumb on his dick.

Drunk on pleasure, cock ramming into your g-spot regularly. It feels like his tip kisses your womb with how deep he’s reaching inside you. Stimulated so deeply that you’re panting and grinding yourself down against him. Back arched upwards further, even with him holding you up by your hips.

With a few more weighted thrusts and heavy drags of his thick cock, you’re cumming again. Your moans aren’t even audible at first, the force of your orgasm that strong. Tears pricking at your waterline again, crying from how fucking good it feels to let go and cum so hard. You can’t hear anything but the blood rushing through your head. Vision going a little fuzzy as you indulge in your high.

That very high of yours, triggers Gojo’s. Finally letting himself succumb to the immense ecstasy running through his veins. He shudders and shakes through it, pulling you tight to his pelvis as he dumps his load deep inside your womb. Overstuffing your cunt with his spend, delighting in how he fills you to the point it’s leaking out back around him. Memories of the last time he came inside you flashing in his mind and pulling a whine from him.

You go limp soon after, only jolting with shocks of the come down. Gojo hums happily as he slips his dick from you, laying your lower half back down gently onto the mattress. Then, because he’s a pervert, he pushes on your lower stomach and watches as more of his cum drools from your pussy hole.

You’re far too lazy and docile to fight him on his actions though, busy basking in your bliss. Stretching yourself out like a cat and moaning at it. Gojo leans down and takes your lips with his, kissing you slow.

Pulling back and saying, “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. You and I both know I could keep going.”

You roll your eyes at him and he smiles. Then he shoves his arms under you and holds you to him, flopping over so he’s on his back on your mattress with you on top. It’s the only way you can both semi-comfortably rest on the small bed together. You enjoy this part, the part where he holds you for a little bit. He feels warm and safe, just like last time.

After a moment, you remember the reason why you can’t stay like this. Raising your head to look at him, “You can’t stay.”

“Just another ten minutes,” he wraps his arms around you tighter, whinging.

You urge, “Satoru—”

“—Mm, I like that,” he all but purrs, happy with your use of his name.

“Seriously,” you shove at his shoulder, “you cannot stay here.”

“Fine,” groaning with his displeasure, “but I fully expect that next time we do this, it’s an all-night thing.”

You don’t get to protest in anyway, his lips shutting you up with a deep kiss. It lasts for a moment, Gojo gets a little carried away with it. He does relent though, grumbling a little as he gets to his feet and begins to get dressed again. Dick already hardening by the time he’s pulling his pants up and buttoning them. Hissing a little as he does, he wasn’t kidding about being able to go again.

Since he’s up and you’re a little wobbly on your feet, you ask, “Can you toss me my clothes?”

“It’d be a shame though.” He tilts his head at you.

“Shut up,” you point at him, “or do you want me to walk you to your car completely naked?”

“You gonna see me off, sweetie?” he tosses you your clothes to change into, “how hospitable you’re being this evening, pussy and a sendoff.”

“You’re the worst,” you grumble. And even though you know you’re going to regret it, “Could you grab me some clean underwear? They’re in that top drawer,” indicating to the dresser in the corner with a nod.

He does so without further comment, at least no further comment until he’s rooting through it. Pulling out a blue lacy pair and holding them up, “These are cute.”

“I am not wearing such a nice pair,” you inform. “I’m still full of your cum, I don’t want to ruin such an expensive pair.”

“I can only get so hard, sweetie,” he singsongs but finds a comfortable and boring pair for you to change into.

When you’re both dressed, you walk him out to the front of the house on shaky legs. Regretting it a little bit because you won’t have him for support on your way back. At his car, he collects you into a big hug and then a final kiss.

Pulling back and reminding you, “You’re gonna message me and we’re going on a date.”

Feeling flustered all of a sudden, “I remember.”

“Just checking, you were kind of occupied when I brought it up.”

You push him away at that, “Whatever, just go home and be on time for work tomorrow.”

“That reminds me,” he looks at you pointedly, “Don’t kiss Suguru anymore.”

His comment jolts you a little, gaping back, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” he nods, “I don’t like sharing.”

With that, he goes on his way. You’re left hobbling your way back into your parents’ house with a mess to clean up. Your relationship with him is still a little confusing to you but you suppose you’re dating now? You can’t help but have some trepidations about that but there’s also a thrill of excitement. Already finding yourself wondering when he’s going to message you…

α.η. yaaay it's done ! thank you to everyone who stuck around and waited patiently for this second part ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

i'm sorry if you wanted to be tagged for this, i unfortunately don't do that :< i hope all who wanted it find this though ♡ thank you all for reading and i hope you all enjoyed ! hopefully more to come if this performs well hehe (๑•̀؂ <๑)✧

“that’s a new one.” upon your request, he obliged, gently pushing in a couple of inches. “fuckkkkk..” you were right, so fucking tight and warm he could die right there. his thrusts were torturously slow. your knuckles had far turned white with the grip your hands had on the bedsheets. “can you just fuck me normally?!” you shot out.

“there she is.” satoru beamed. “missed ya being so snappy towards me. with that, he shoved his entire cock right in you. your mouth fell agape, no sound being produced. how could you even think when your back is getting blown out with a speed you don’t know was possible.

“mmm good girl.” he whispered, arms wrapping around your waist, bringing his whole body weight down onto yours.

you muffled your cries with the pillow, eyes rolling into the back of your head. everything was just so perfect. “shit, did you get tighter?” satoru kissed your cheek repeatedly, licking away at your tears. “you’re doing so good. taking my cock like the good perfect girl you are.”

your stomach fluttered at his words. even the most annoying guy on earth could be kind at times. satoru slowed down his movement, pulling out until his tip was the only thing inside of you. “want me to give you a proper apology for being an ass?”

the earlier events were long forgotten for you, being way too focused on how your insides were practically being de-arranged. regardless, you nodded.

“then cum for me.”

he slammed right back into you, knocking all air out of your lungs. you screamed, torn between feeling pleasure or pain. “cmon, cum all over my cock. show me how much you want me.”

your walls stretched around him, memorizing his length. bruises appeared on your sides from the sheer strength in which he was holding you, almost like he didn’t want to let go.

his thrusts stuttered when he neared his orgasm, not wanting to finish before you though. with one final thrust, you came all over him. you sniffled, looking over your shoulder to meet eyes with him. the second you made eye contact, his face softened. shortly after, he squirted our ropes of cum into your womb. he came a lot, some making its way out of your puffy folds.

his breaths were shaky, because looking down at you and seeing you post orgasm made him realize that one round wasn’t going to be enough. “you’re so beautiful..” satoru didn’t pull out yet, instead he turned your body over. your breathing was shaky, still regaining stability.

“i’m sorry for being so mean to you sweets.. just needed a way to get your attention.”

“well.. you got it.” you sniffled, leaning into his touch when he reached out to wipe away the remaining tears.

“good, cuz i’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

.

.

.

He shifted back slightly on the mattress, clearing a space. "If it means you’ll stop talking about it. Just... do it quickly and get it over with."

The casual, joking mood lasted right up until you climbed onto the bed and sat on his lap.

The moment your weight settled over him, the air in the room completely changed. The "practice session" suddenly felt incredibly heavy.

You could feel the rigid, solid muscle of his thighs beneath yours, and when his hands instinctively came up to anchor your hips, his palms were warm, almost hot, through the fabric of your clothes.

Your own heart gave a sudden, nervous flutter. You hadn't expected him to feel this large, this present. The thin line of your friendship suddenly felt like a tightrope.

"Don't overthink it," you muttered, though the words were meant more for yourself. Your voice lacked the playful edge it had a moment ago.

Megumi didn't answer. He was looking at your lips, his chest rising and falling in a slightly shallower rhythm than before.

The indifference he had been wearing like armor was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, hyper-focused stillness.

You leaned in, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed his dark hair away from the left side of his neck. His skin was pale, smooth, and warm. You rested your hand against his collarbone, feeling the hard, rapid thump-thump-thump of his pulse beneath your palm.

He’s not indifferent, you realized with a sudden jolt of adrenaline. He’s terrified.

You leaned down, your lips lightly brushing the skin just below his jawline. Megumi’s entire body went rigid. A sharp, involuntary intake of breath hissed through his teeth.

You started gently, just testing the friction, pressing your lips against his throat and drawing the skin in. It was supposed to be a technical exercise, but the sensory reality of it was overwhelming.

The scent of him, soap, clean laundry, and a faint hint of the crisp outside air, filled your senses. Every time you sucked against the skin, you could feel the slight vibration of his throat as he swallowed hard.

A low, thick sound caught in his chest.

Before you could even process it, Megumi’s right hand flew up from your hip, his knuckles crashing against his own mouth.

He bit down on his hand, his teeth digging deep into the flesh between his thumb and index finger to stifle the noise.

You pulled back slightly, your breath catching. His eyes were wide, blown out, the dark pupils swallowing the green of his irises.

A deep, burning flush had crept up from his collar, painting his pale skin a violent, chaotic red. He was staring at you with an expression that was half-furious and half-undone.

"Megumi," you whispered, your own heart racing so fast it felt dizzying. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up," he rasped around his own knuckles, his voice completely wrecked. He didn't pull away.

In fact, his left hand on your hip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he couldn't bear the thought of you moving an inch further.

The illusion of the "favor" was entirely shattered.

There was nothing casual about the way his body was trembling beneath yours, or the way his cursed energy was humming erratically in the corners of the room, casting long, erratic shadows against the wall.

You looked down at his neck. Where your mouth had just been, a dark, bruised rose-violet mark was already beginning to form against his pale skin—a permanent, unmissable brand of what you had just done to him.

And looking at him now, with his hand jammed between his teeth and his breath tearing through his nose in ragged, uneven gasps, you knew neither of you would ever be able to pretend this was just a practice session again.

.................................................................................

a small snort escaped from the other side of the door, “yea ryo ive been shitting for two hours.” 

his crimson eyes fluttered into a roll before he twisted the knob again, “okay brat then why is the door locked, let me in.” 

needy bastard. “kuna you can wait for like two minutes, im almost done.” you added the final touches to your face before adjusting your dress again. kinda short. eh its fine. 

he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed “almost done what? I can smell your body wash, did you wanna go on a date ton-” 

the door swung open, revealing your finished look. hair done and neat, makeup on point, gold jewelry layered all over your body, and your new brown mini dress that hugged your body perfectly. 

sukuna paused, looked you up and down, eyes immediately turning hungry. 

“black shoes or brown shoes?” you cocked a brow at him. 

“fuck, you look gorgeous baby.” he answered completely ignoring your question, “where we goin’?” 

you puckered your lips and smiled back at him, “thank you. okay so black or brown?” 

“brown. and give me like fifteen minutes, I'll be ready.” he bee-lined straight to the bathroom before your manicured hand pressed against his chest, stopping him right in his tracks. 

“ryo you can’t come to girls night. I've told you this like a thousand times.” 

girls night? It was like someone shot him in the chest right then and there. not only were you looking absolutely beautiful on a night the both of you had off, you were going out with your friends. instead of sukuna. not to mention how much they hated sukuna. the burly mans shoulders tensed,

 “nonono, the hell you mean girls night? I thought WE were going out tonight.” it was almost pathetic how whiney his voice sounded. to anyone else it would've been a once in a blue moon sight, unfortunately for you it wasn’t. 

“ryo I told you last night that I was going out with them.” 

“did not.” 

“did too.” 

“did not.” 

“ryomen i literally told you before we went to bed and you said ‘okay ill drive you.” you pushed past him and slipped on your brown kitten heels, before admiring your full look in the mirror. 

“There's no way I said that, I was out cold before you even shut off the light.” he followed your trail like a sulking puppy`. a large six foot something sulking puppy.

“sukuna i promise you i’m not lying.” you paused with your purse and keys in hand.  

“fine. but if i get handsy in the car, you cannot blame me. you look so hot.” he grabbed the keys from your hands and opened the front door. 

you tsked, “mhm mhm no touching while my girls are in the car.” 

“what.” 

“we’re picking them up, remember?” 

“you’re shittin’ me.”

-

after thirty minutes of being interrogated, looped into gossip, and asked the ‘you’re a guy what do you think?’ question approximately fifteen times,  sukuna finally got to the restaurant. 

your girls murmured a bunch of rushed thank yous before quickly hopping out of the car and heading into the restaurant. sukunas hand still gripped the wheel, 

“thank you for dropping us off kuna.” you leaned over the center console and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing him to turn his head. 

“call me if anything.” he responded in a low mumble. 

“i know i know.” you smiled before turning to open your door. 

“wait.” you paused and turned to look back at your boyfriend who was already outside of the car, he made his way around to your side and opened your door. He held your hand in his large gruff one before pulling you into another kiss, he pulled away just an inch from your mouth, his breath still on yours,

“i’m fucking the shit out of you when you get home.” 

you felt the warmth pooling in your cheeks, you bit back a smile and mumbled back 

“promise?” 

sukunas hands gripped at your waist, before dropping to his sides, a slow huff escaped his nose, “pinky.” 

you snorted before walking off, feeling the sting of sukunas hand slapping your ass as you did so. 

-

sukuna knew as soon as you called three hours later, slurring every other word, that he would be eating his words that night.

 after dropping off your equally drunk friends, he carried you into bed, taking his time removing your make up because he knew you would yell at him if he didn’t, then taking off your heels and dress, changing you into one of his shirts.

“ryo.” 

“hm.” 

“my friendsss saidd they loveeyou.” 

“really?” shocking. considering they mean mugged him all night. didn’t even bother to say his name properly.

you nodded slowly under the sheets. 

“why’s that?” 

a hiccup escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut “they said… youmake mee glow.” 

“they’re idiots.” 

you snorted, “loveeyouu.” 

“i love you too brat.” 

he couldn’t even be mad at you for blue balling him all night.

theres always tomorrow.

posting schedule rivals coryxkenshin atp

It wasn’t immediate, of course. He gave it an hour before he proceeded to antagonize the man until he had a better reason to punch him in the face, because being a jealous loser wasn’t one of them. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he was already in a mood when he showed up, though, given how you turned him down when he asked if you wanted to go together. You don’t even know why he bothered asking, it was at the very last minute and had been days since you heard from him.

That incident left you annoyed. A little embarrassed, too. Worst of all, it left you with some hope during a time you questioned whether to cut ties with him or not. It was hard not to, you had hardly seen or spoken to him the weeks leading up to it. He had you convinced he didn’t even see a future with you, let alone want one.

But, as problematic as it may sound, his sudden burst of jealousy revived the feelings you’ve unfortunately grown to have for him. It was inevitable. Satoru has always had the ability to captivate just about anyone he spoke to. One could only imagine how easy it is to fall for someone like him. And for someone as stubborn as you, it was just about impossible not to once he started showing you the sides he usually kept hidden from the world.

So after a week of giving him the silent treatment and receiving multiple flowers and an accidental dick pic in return, you found yourself right back in his arms, as horny and confused as ever.

you can barely step through the door before the taller man rushes to you like an overzealous dog greeting its owner, sculpted body dropping to the floor as he wraps his hard biceps around your thigh for stability.

"missed you so much, baby" his head started nudging your leg, leaving possessive kisses trailing against the thick of your thigh, "y'smell so good."

the sight in front of you immediately changes the tone of your mood, fatigue that took over your body replaced with momentary bliss. overcome with the transient felicity you softly giggle at his needy behavior while struggling to kick your heels off, stumbling forward with the husky man anchored to your calf.

"i lost track of time, i'm sorry cho"

you confess, feeling the weight being lifted off of your leg as choso stands up next to you. in the serene environment his deep sepia eyes lock onto yours silently reading your exhausted expression.

taking initiative he picks your heels up from the floor and slips the purse off your shoulder, angling his free arm out to lead you to the bedroom without a word.

returning to your domestic cave you collapse on the plush bed, hair sprawled across the comforter as your doting boyfriend puts away your accessories. the brooding man swiftly joins your side and dips the mattress towards your left, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"how was your night?" choso perked up, pulling your legs over his bulky thighs. he used his thick fingers to softly massage into the soles of your feet, noting the slight limp you walked in with due to your heels.

"tiring," you retort back, exhaling deeply after your sentiment.

with the mix of liquor and physical activity, you laid across the mattress completely drained— body marked by the placebo of continuous moment. the drowsiness that consumed your form had you bed bound and weary, every nerve under your skin slowly unwinding with each passing minute.

choso reached his arms to push the hem of your dress up, signaling you to raise your hips while he pulled down the elastic of your tights. the soft cotton tickled against your skin as he rolled the fabric down delicately. 

"you looked absolutely gorgeous tonight" the pale man mumbled, discarding the frail garment when he freed you from it. his hands intuitively squeezed the flesh leading up to your thigh while he prepared to fully undress you.

reaching your pelvis, he snakes his palms under the small of your back, encouraging you to subsequently raise your arms in the air as he lifted the dress over your head.

"so pretty, my angel" choso continued, tossing your dress to rejoin with the disregarded tights. his calloused hands quickly sustained their activity, molding your soft skin under his fingertips like you were his prized possession.

he perpetually complimented you, filling the once tranquil room with nonsensical rambling— every word hitting your intoxicated muscle and bouncing right off. when he reached your throat you could finally make sense of his irrepressible language.

"need you so bad, wanna taste you" the weary man mumbled against your neck, littering dark hickeys that contrast the hue of his tired eyes.

you didn't respond more than a nod and a hum, giving choso more than enough confirmation to begin what his lascivious mind had envisioned in his dreams long before you came home. the oldest kamo took your answer and felt his arm instinctively reaching below your waist, sophisticated fingers tracing along the thin elastic of your panties.

the sensuous activity around your throat is replaced when his knuckles wrap around the waistband, cascading the petite material slowly down the dough of your thighs as he drags his tongue across your body.

when his lips meet right above your slit he finally manages to unhook the garment from your ankle, leaning up to toss it aside, completing the abandoned pile on the floor. the sudden lack of attention has your hips bucking up impulsively, abstractedly craving more. choso spreads your legs gently at the act, practically cooing at you with his soft tone.

"s' ok, let me take care of you"

his head dove between your thighs peppering sugary kisses against your cunt until it was sticky with slick. each teasing peck sending shivers up your spine in anticipation, your body jolting when his wet tongue swipes at your slit.

choso's palm shifted around your inner thigh spreading your legs further open. the extra space allows him to fully see your cunt, leaving one last kiss against your clit before laying his tongue flat on your heat.

he swiftly switches from syrupy sweet teasing to lustful pursuit, making out with your puffy pussy and groaning into your core. his hands move autonomously, the left holding the thick of your thigh down while his dominant crept against the slightly damp sheets, gathering slick on his fingertips that dripped below his mouth.

the luscious taste against choso's swollen lips has his eyes rolling back into his skull, boxers tightening with each lick to your sopping cunt. he started grinding against the mattress before his brain could even process his actions— your unconcealed moans spurring him on. 

his thick fingers dipped into your heat. a rhythmic pace was gradually built while he cautiously added one, then two. shockwaves of euphoria were spread across your nervous system when his digits curved against your gummy walls. the staggering pleasure has your hands flying to his hair, acrylics scratching at his scalp when he quickens his pace.

his mouth continued defiling you sloppily, each kiss to your cunt soaking his chin further. choso alternated between licking relentlessly and sucking on your sensitive nerves as his fingers curled against your sweet spot.

the vulgar attention has your intoxicated mind fuzzy with exhilaration, you can feel the undeniable bubble in your stomach about to pop. without thinking you bury your nails further into his disheveled hair, gripping the onyx strands to ride his face at an incoherent pace.

the feeling was breath hitching as your overworked hips stuttered against his dusted stubble, in an attempt to chase your oncoming climax you completely take over his endeavor and grind against his wet muscle. your adoring boyfriend lets you use him of course, slipping out his digits and obediently using his tongue.

a mix of curses and mellifluous whines ripped through the diminutive room as you crossed the edge, creaming on choso's face. the elating mewls that echoed off the walls are replaced by soft panting while you come down from your euphoric high.

however, the incessant mouth work from the brawny man between your legs never falters— making you have to physically push his head away with your feeble limbs. your palm shoved fiercely against his forehead until he unlatched his ravenous lips, overstimulated whines spewing reluctantly from your sore vocal cords with the prolonged contact.

choso's bronze eyes peeked at you from beyond your thighs as he slowly maneuvered his body closer to your slumped form. his vast biceps enclosed around your head when he greeted you again, flashing you a shy smile before scooping your chin into a kiss, intruding his tongue past your lips and mixing your saliva with the taste of your own sugary release.

© gloomyangell ! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

a/n; we are so back

“bet your mouth would look so pretty wrapped around me.” he whispered to nobody, throwing his head back as he quickened the speed of his hand. it was cramping from how hard he was going on himself, cumming hard onto the bathroom wall.

any evidence of an orgasm was washed away by the water that was pouring out of the shower head.

“what a waste.” he watched the cum disappear. it’d look much better painted on your back.

when other neighbors warned you of satoru, urging you to get earplugs, you were confused to say the least. “earplugs? what for?”

“he’s always moaning with a new girl every other week day. we’ve tried putting in complaints but the complex won’t do anything of it.”

“really?  i haven’t heard anything.” which was a lie, partially. satoru didn’t moan to another girl these days that wasn’t you. every whimper and moan that slipped out of his place, spilled into yours. it was cute really, hearing his needy sounds with your name on his tongue after every interaction he had with you.

it was a huge help for you as well. having difficulty finishing, it became easier with just listening to him. your vibrator would touch just right, hand shaking as you moved the wand up and down.

the sudden silence of satoru’s place spread around the building. the fact that he hasn’t brought a girl over in a few weeks raised suspicion and honestly, worried everyone.

“maybe his company is being harsh again.”

“doubt it, he’d still find a way to have sex. something is seriously wrong.”

so they all kept a close eye on him, observing the way his line of sight lingered on your door every time he would leave or enter his place. satoru has been contemplating on returning the basket you had given him since you first spoke. it’s been sitting on his desk for a while now, collecting dust. surely, you wanted it back.

with the help of his black credit card, he filled the basket up with hundreds of roses, leaving it at your doorstep with a small note inside. 

your eyes widened when you reached your door after a long day of work, wondering if you were hallucinating or not. you bent over to grab the basket, reaching inside for the piece of paper. 

“feel like we barely speak other than you babysitting for me & the usual ‘hello’s’ & i’d love to take you out some time if that’s alright.” 

at the bottom read his initials.

s.g

his heart wouldn’t stop beating in excitement upon your acceptance. but since he was satoru gojo at the end of the day, the boy who swore he doesn’t do relationships — has no idea how relationships operate.

“i think ill have.. the vietnamese coffee.” you smiled up at the barista who jotted down your order on their notepad.

“uh yea ill get that too..” satoru stuttered, trying his best to calm down the pressure he was feeling in his pants. he had no idea you have heard him jerking off to you for the past two weeks and even more so that you were doing the same. 

when you spoke, all he could do was nod like a stupid bobble head, memorizing every word you said.

you were both out for a few hours getting to know each other better giving him extra time to figure out which position to have you in by the end of the night.

he knew doggy style would feel the best, but he really wanted to see your face. so, mating press would do it. except, you didn’t go into his apartment after heading back from the cafe. and you didn’t let him into yours.

“alright, good night satoru. thank you again for the date. hope we can go out again?”

he blinked, nodding. “of course. yeah, fuck of course.

with another of your gentle smiles, you leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek before entering your apartment, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

satoru stood there in shock. 

you didn’t want to fuck him? were you teasing him? surely you’d open the door again and allow him to come in so he could fuck you until all you knew how to say was his name.

but you didn’t. 

you made him wait. 

2..3..4 dates went by and the most you’ve done was hold hands as you walked through the mall and kiss each other strictly on the face. his personal favorite was the cheek so he could attempt to move his head to the side, allowing your lips to accidentally graze his.

but whenever he tried this dirty trick, you’d move away just in time. he was growing frustrated. you wouldn’t even kiss him let alone sleep with him!

yes of course he wanted to be yours more than anything but god did he want to feel your body under his.

finally, on the fifth date, you two made it official and the neighbors had a field day with that. for a bit at least.

“did you hear satoru and the cookie girl got together?”

“shut up. don’t tell me that’s the reason we’ve finally been able to sleep peacefully lately.”

“who could’ve seen this-“

“coming! m’cumming!” you whimpered into your bedsheets, tears streaming down your flushed face.

satoru finally had you where he wanted, underneath him sobbing dumbly over his fat cock after finding your toys in your closet. “ha.. so you’ve been playing with these shitty things knowing i needed ya?” 

he coo’ed feeling you tighten around him. “fuck. did ya hear me touch myself every night, hm? you got off on that?” 

your eyes rolled back once he brought your vibrator to tease your clit all while he kept hitting the spot that had you seeing stars. 

“mmm,” he chuckled. “who’s making you feel better huh?” 

“y-you! you satoruuu!” 

his hand that was placed on the small of your back moved to spank your plush ass, adding onto the already existing hand marks. 

“knew i had to have this pretty pussy the second you knocked on my door. i’m mad at you, baby. should’ve knocked on my door for a different reason but hey, least you’re my girl now.” 

he moved your head to the side, smashing his lips onto yours in a messy kiss. “go on sweets. cum.” he ordered.

you didn’t need to be told twice. 

your sweet juices spilled out over his length, body collapsing completely over the bed. satoru slowed his movements, fucking back your orgasm into you before spilling his seed in you. 

“nice and deep.. good girl.” 

his thumb shifted to turn off the toy, throwing it somewhere in the room. his cock slipped out of you making you whine. 

“oh? you want more? should’ve just said so, love.”

his hands grabbed onto yours waist, flipping you over so now you were both face to face. “let’s try this position now.”

you’re sitting on his lap, his thick cock pressed against your belly leaking pre and staining your thin slip. he’d long since ripped off your pajamas, the fabric somewhere shredded on the ground.

your hand pumps him slowly, torturing him with the pace. he knew better than to do that- how many times had you gotten onto him about ruining your outfits?! you weren't made of money, and your parents were starting to catch on to your clothes all having strange stitching holding them together!

“did i tell you to stop?” you chastise him, your free hand reaching up to grab his fluffy ear, pulling his head back.

valko whines and looks up at you with golden eyes, eyebrows pulling together. “it feels too good, i got distracted-”

“hm.” you drop the hand that was pumping him. “fine. since you can’t handle two things at once, you’ll lose your privileges."

“no, please.” he begs, head going back to where you wanted it in the crook of your neck.

his rough tongue licked up and down the column of your neck, lapping at it.

you hum happily, hand instinctively going back to stroking him, faster than before. “good boyy, see, you know how to listen after all.”

he nods and whimpers, tongue kitten licking the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. the exact spot you’d been begging him to bite for weeks.

maybe if you play your cards right this time, he would finally do it?

“such a sweet puppy, aren't you?” you ask, voice low in the way he likes it. you tighten your fingers at his tip, watching as he leaks out and stains your fingers.

though you didn’t have much experience with human men, you knew enough to know that werewolves had much larger cocks. you hadn’t even let him fuck you yet due to the sheer size of him- you were sure it would break you.

valko’s fluffy tail wags at your praise. “uh huhh, i’ve been so good. waited for you, haven’t touched myself in a week- mmh!” he shudders when you slide a finger over his slit.

you nod in approval, scratching behind one of his ears. he leans into the scratching, an eye closing in pleasure.

“i’ve almost got you trained then, haven’t i? such a strong creature tamed by a human.” you huff out a laugh, hand moving faster as you try to get him close. “how pathetic. what if the rest of your pack saw you like this?”

valko growled, the sound low and barely there. he knew better than to truly defy you, keeping his annoyance to a minimum. his tongue continued to lick, the roughness scratching at your skin like sandpaper.

you took his silence as an answer, and his panting as a sign that he was close. close enough for you to try once again.

“wanna cum?”

valko nodded and tried to look up at you from his position at your neck, golden eyes glowing slightly and pleading with yours. “please?”

you shivered at his voice. despite his physical submission to you, his voice always reminded you that he was a dangerous predator. it was deep, not at all like the airy and whiny voices of submissive human men you’d encountered.

maybe that’s why you were so fond of him- knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you. but he won’t, because you’ve got him trained like he’s no more than a stray.

you halt your hand on his cock once more, making him whine and arch his back. “mark me and i’ll let you cum.” you purr into his fuzzy ear, biting down on the peak of it.

valko rears back, his face contorting from the blissed out state it was just in to the tense scowl he normally wears when he’s not with you.

“you know i can’t mark you, it wouldn’t be safe.”

he tries to back up, but you keep an iron grip on the base of his cock, holding him still. “marking me is the only way to keep me safe- how stupid are you? your packmates are going to find out about this eventually, do you think they’ll let me live?”

valko doesn’t look convinced. he scoffs and shakes his head. “marking you brings attention to you, right now no one knows you exist. they won’t be happy that i chose a human as my mate, either.”

you raise an eyebrow at his defiance. “hm. fine.” you stand and brush your slip off. “if you can’t have a human as your mate, you shouldn’t have one as your fuck buddy then either, should y- hey!”

you yelp as valko grabs your wrists and yanks you back down onto his lap. he puts your hand back on his cock, wrapping your fingers around it as he strokes himself over you.

his voice comes out gravely and rough against your skin. “fine. if i mark you, you understand that i have to knot you also?”

you swallow hard and think about it. if you thought his dick would be too big for you, how hard would the knot be to take..?

you clench around nothing at the idea, wetness already seeping through your thin panties. the answer was a no-brainer.

“deal.”

no sooner than the word left your mouth did valko bite down on the juncture between neck and shoulder. the pain was excruciating, causing you to scream and writhe on his lap.

snarls and howls sounded in the background, no doubt in response to your screaming. normally, you’d be terrified, because having a whole pack hunting you would lead to your death, but you weren’t worried.

they couldn’t hurt you, not with valko’s mark on you. the bite left your head fuzzy and your body tingling.

valko was licking your wound over with care, a sound like purring emanating from him. after he deemed it properly cared for, he looked your face over to make sure you were okay.

“don’t pass out on me, puppy.” he teases, hand cradling the back of your head as he smiles.

he’s still moving your hand in time with his on his cock, albeit slower than before.

your eyes zero in on his teeth- more specifically his fangs that are coated in your blood from the bond mark.

without even thinking, you lean forward and lick his fangs, tasting your own metallic blood.

a strangled moan left valko when you did this, unintentionally sending him over the edge. his hips bucked up into the hands you both had around him, cum spurting out in thick streams, landing on both of your chests.

how were you supposed to know that werewolves had sensitive fangs?

once his high wore down, you heard loud footsteps approaching and panicked. “should we go? what if-”

valko hummed and nuzzled his nose into the mark he left on you. “no, no no, i still have to knot you, remember? now who’s the one that doesn’t listen.” he teases.

you glare at him. if your mind wasn’t so fuzzy, you’d put him back in his place. maaaybe you could let him be in charge for once…

“you’re not gonna take me somewhere nicer to fuck me?”

valko looks around in confusion. “what’s wrong with this?”

you raise an eyebrow at him and tap your hand on the hard dirt you. “uh, maybe that it’s hard and, i don’t know, the forest floor?”

valko shrugged and maneuvered you onto your back, crawling over you and pushing one sode of your slip up. “it won’t hurt.” he kisses between your breasts.

“what about when your pack shows up? you’re going to let them see me naked?”

valko rubs his thick tip against your soaked panties, tilting his head. “let them watch. it’s customary for packmates to watch each other mate.” his golden eyes meet yours and he smirks slightly. “you’ll get the full experience.”

a/n: THIS IS MY MAN THIS IS MY MAIN IDCCCC also im prepared for him to be crazy ooc when his content drops lolz. ive never written anything like this before so if i missed tagging smth PLS let me know so i can add it!!

thick moon divider from @uzmacchiato , thin moon divider from @cyberangel-graphics

“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—

“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”

“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.

Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant. 

What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.

But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore. 

You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.

Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.

He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it. 

“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”

Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.

The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now. 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish. 

“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little. 

“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.

You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.

Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.

“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.

“Please…”

“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do. 

You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?

With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”

“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.

“If you’re grossed out—“

“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”

“The millisecond.”

His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”

“I’ll put a poet to shame.”

“Pull my hair?”

“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”

A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”

Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.

It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.

The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens. 

But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?

You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours. 

You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again. 

“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.

“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.

He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.

Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it? 

His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.

Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”

“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”

You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.

It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.

Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.

Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!

You love these fucking supermoons.

“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”

“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“

“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”

He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”

“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.

“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.

You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”

Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.” 

“no,” you huff. “you’re always working. need you so bad, cho—you don’t need me?”

and choso whimpers, because of course he does, because what else is he supposed to do when you zip down his jeans & pull out his swollen, heavy cock? your eyes are glimmering & he’s so fucking hard and there’s already precum smeared over the flushed pink tip. you lick your lips. flash him a smile. “aw, cho. hard for me already?”

he stifles a gasp, cheeks hot. “so hard. mmfph—” you pump him slow & he swallows, hips stuttering against the board. “i’m sorry baby,” he cries, “always need you.”

“are you sure?” you coo, lashes fluttering as your thumb circles his slit. “sukuna will get mad again.”

choso’s lashes are sticky with tears. “he’s always mad—hah—i think.”

you giggle, leaning forward to lick a teasing stripe up his tip. "so you're saying this is fine ?"

choso wants to say yes. he wants to say no. he doesn't know what he wants anymore except your hand on his cock & your voice in his ear and—

BANG!

“hello. what the fuck is taking so long?!”

ryomen sukuna has his guitar slung over him & his lips bent in a frown. choso’s hands fly to his jeans, and you only smile sweetly as sukuna’s eyes dart frantically between your wet lips & choso’s panicked eyes. suguru pokes his head out of the booth; grin clumsy, eyes bright.

“…lock in.” sukuna mutters, and the door slams shut.

2. HEADLINE #2: R★CKSTAR CAUGHT DURING MIDNIGHT SEXCAPADES ?!

choso kamo is too needy for his own good.

it’s 1AM & choso kamo is under hotel sheets with need buzzing between his thighs. the band’s on tour for the nth time this year but choso isn’t thinking about practicing his guitar riff. his phone screen is too bright in his face & his eyes are on your soft thighs, supple breasts, pretty face—and he’s palming himself while staring at pictures of you before he can think any better of it.

but then his phone chimes.

[ BLOOD MOON 🎸]

mine 😊🫀: @ choso i miss you :(

choso blinks at the notification, pupils dilating. he clicks it so fast his thumb twitches.

BLOOD MOON 🎸

mine 😊🫀: @ choso i miss you :(

choso: I miss you too, baby. You’re not sleeping yet?

mine 😊🫀: hard to sleep without you touching me.

choso’s cheeks are hot. his cock twitches in his pants. but then his phone chimes again.

BLOOD MOON 🎸

sukuna: Can we not do this in the band gc.

geto🐒: why is she even here i’m dead

mine😊🫀: @ choso my pussy is so wet for you daddy :/

geto🐒 reacted: ⁉️

sukuna: IN MY PUBLIC GC ???

satoru🧿:

——

choso panics—throat bobbing, eyes wide. he quickly switches to texting you privately, face smushed into his pillow & cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

mine ☺️🫀

choso: Baby, why would you text that in the gc?

Satoru will tease me during practice again

And Sukuna already texted saying he’ll beat me up

——-

your text comes in instantly.

mine ☺️🫀: are you mad at me?

i just missed you cho. i won’t text you again since that’s what you want ☹️

choso: What? I said I didn’t want that? When?

I always want you to text me. It makes my day when you do. Please don’t stop texting baby I always want to hear from you.

mine ☺️🫀: let me see your cock

choso: Okay

I’m already hard for you. I was touching myself to your pictures before you texted. You’re so pretty, baby. Miss your pretty face.

[Image_Attachment]

mine ☺️🫀: aww, you’re so cute cho

why not come over and get the real thing ?

choso: I want to, but you’re two hours away. Can I see your breasts?

mine☺️🫀: you can see them if you come over 😚 and you can touch them too pretty boy <3

choso: But I can’t come over. What can I do?!

mine☺️🫀: Suffer

choso: ???

——-

choso stares at the screen, mouth agape, heart in a frenzy. the light is bright against his eyes but choso doesn’t care to dim it. what can he do? he really wants to see your breasts but the circumstances won’t allow it. he bites his lip, thumbs moving before his brain can catch up to them.

choso: Suffer

I’m already suffering, angel. I don’t know how to suffer any harder. Can you please tell me what to do?

mine ☺️🫀: go to sleep choso

choso: But I don’t want to sleep. I want to see your breasts

mine ☺️🫀: then come over

choso: But I can’t

mine ☺️🫀: so why are you still texting me?

choso stares at your text, breath hitching. he glances over at the clock on his nightstand, and the digital display gleams back. 1:17 AM. that’s not too bad. surely he could get there by around three, fuck you till at least four, and get back to the hotel by six.

it’s a stupid plan. but for you choso’s a stupider man, and the next text you send doesn’t help his judgement.

mine☺️🫀: [Image_Attachment]

mine☺️🫀: sneak peek <3

choso’s heart hammers. the picture only shows your tits clad in a pretty pink nightgown, but the material is too sheer & choso can see everything. the soft swell of your breasts. your nipples pebbled and peaking through the fabric. the way your arm is tucked underneath your tits to push them together into the camera. choso’s mouth dries. his breathing goes ragged & his cock goes heavy against his leg. he’s still gawking at your picture when his phone chimes again.

mine☺️🫀: my new nightgown’s so thin :( i don’t know why you can see my tits through it

choso thinks your nightgown is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

choso: your nipples are so pretty, baby

he sucks in a breath, taking one last sorry glance at the clock.

choso: I’m coming over.

choso doesn’t wait for a reply. he’s already scrambling to fit a tank top over his bare chest, tugging socks over his feet & shoving them into slippers. the hallway is dark and quiet, and choso takes one last look at your perky tits on his screen before clicking his phone off & shoving it into his pockets. he sucks in a breath. let’s do this.

two hallways right. one staircase down—not the elevator because it’s way too loud—and then another hallway to reach the lobby. choso knows the hotel layout like the back of his hand. he slips into the corridor, steps quiet against the hardwood, and the staircase is right there—

“late night, kamo?”

choso stops before he can bump right into sukuna.

ryomen sukuna is not impressed—and neither are the two boys behind him. geto’s piercings are glimmering in the heat. satoru has a smile too cruel to be kind. they stand on either side of a crossed sukuna, hands in their pockets, grins lazy-cruel.

choso gulps, eyes flitting between them. “uhm, i just needed some water—“

“back to your room, lover boy,” suguru whistles, thumb pointing to satoru. “unless you want to be smacked upside the head?”

satoru is cracking his knuckles with a grin.

“no thank you,” choso says too fast, too sheepish. his cheeks are peach tinged. “and what do you mean by lover boy? i was only—“

“save it,” sukuna growls, cocking his head. “the walls are thin as fuck, idiot. you think i didn’t hear you beating your shit and whining into your pillow in the next room over?”

choso’s throat bobs. sukuna pads closer to his shaky figure.

“back to your room,” sukuna’s hot breath tickles choso’s nose, “and don’t let me catch you in these halls again.”

3. HEADLINE #3 : R★CKSTAR CAUGHT HAVING SEX AFTER SETS ?!

on stage, choso kamo is half-boy, half-heartbreak.

at least, that’s what the fangirls say when he plays like this. mic cord in his mouth. hair soaked & sweat sticky. mascara smeared down his cheeks & a riff so loud it makes you feverish. on blood moon’s stage, choso kamo plays the electric guitar like his life depends on it. sukuna’s singing blares more like a roar. geto is on bass & satoru on the drums.

choso hasn’t seen you since the set started.

not in the crowd, or the lobby, or the soft space behind the old stairwell where he likes to kiss you dizzy. he’s trudging through backstage now, guitar strapped heavy on his back, steps slow & breath heaving because the adrenaline hasn’t worn off & he’s still half-high. where the fuck is his girlfriend?

but then he sees you on the amp.

and choso’s first thought is glitter. lots of it. sticky on your lip and your chin and your hair and your face. he pads towards you with bleary eyes and you welcome him with a teasing smile.

“hi, choso.”

“Hi,” his arms bracket your hips. “you look shiny.”

you giggle, hand curling into his necklace as he trails sloppy kisses to your jawline. choso kisses like a dog, tongue wet & breath sticky. “you’re so hot,” he rasps. “so fucking hot—mmh—m’dizzy.”

you let him kiss your lips. “can’t do this here,” he murmurs against them. “can i take you away, baby? behind the stairs?”

his eyes are soft and pleading. he talks like he’s asking but his hands are already hoisting you up & lifting you into his chest before you can tell him no. you cup his face. smush his cheeks. “impatient, are we?”

“sorry,” his cheeks are pressed together in your palms so his voice comes out strangled. “missed you.”

choso isn’t sorry. he’s stumbling past workers & crew alike while pressing sloppy kisses to your hot mouth. his tongue slobbers and drags while his hands press into your thighs, thumb climbing higher to graze circles on your hips. he nearly trips over two cables but you laugh into his mouth and choso kamo has never been happier. “you’re so beautiful,” he breathes. “so pretty.”

he finally reaches the stairwell. the closet door just under it is blue & peeling, and choso kicks it open with his mouth on your throat. he pulls back to stare at you and his gaze is soft. his eyes lift to stare into the room as you kiss his cheek.

his band members stare at him back.

ryomen sukuna has his arms crossed & his back against a wooden shelf. gojo satoru is sat criss-cross on a table with his lips in a grin. suguru stands beside him, leaned back lazily against said table with his lip piercing glimmering in the heat. and right there in the center, manager toji fushiguro has his arms folded over his chest, temu wristwatch catching the light.

choso drops you very slowly.

his eyes flit between his band mates, cheeks already blood drenched. he’s still gripping your skirt when he sets you down beside him. you whack his hand away and shift behind him to hide.

geto grins. “hey, lover boy.”

choso leans back into you slightly. he whispers over his shoulder, “baby—it’s a trap!”

he doesn’t need to tell you. you can fucking see that.

sukuna steps forward. he’s not even angry—shocking, honestly—he’s bored. steps lazy, gaze half-lidded. “told ya, fushiguro. our band’s lead guitarist is always in fucking heat.”

choso squeaks, gripping your skirt. “i wasn’t gonna fuck her!”

sukuna glances back at the others. “who is he lying to?”

toji sighs, shaking his head. he shoves his hands into his pockets, expression bored. “look, kid—“ he glances up, “your band mates and i don’t care about you being a horndog. we care that you’re letting it get in the way of your responsibilities.”

satoru perks up, tongue clicking. “you were supposed to head straight to the van after the set. but here you are trying to get some pussy…”

“shit’s jarring, man,” suguru finishes. “absolutely jarring.”

you lean up on your toes, just enough to poke your head up behind choso’s shoulder. satoru grins when he sees your face. suguru gives you a soft wave.

“hi,” your voice is shy. “this is my fault. sorry about him.”

“don’t sweat it, princess,” toji waves you off, fake ice glimmering on his wrist. “our business is with your boyfriend, not you.”

you nod shyly, disappearing behind choso yet again. sukuna huffs through his nose. “choso, got anything to say for yourself?”

choso looks around. at gojo and geto’s sleazy grins, toji’s deadpan face, sukuna’s lazy gaze. the room is hot but his cheeks are hotter. he swallows, blood sticky in his throat.

“i’m sorry,” he croaks. “it won’t happen again.”

sukuna doesn’t let him off. “what won’t happen again?”

choso grips your skirt behind him, swallowing. you squeeze your thighs around his palm to reassure him & choso gulps yet again.

“won’t fuck my girl while on duty. or let her jerk me off in the rec rooms. or try to sneak off to see her.”

your eyes widen behind him. he did not have to mention the rec room!

toji nods. then he checks his wrist—the temu wristwatch says it’s time to go. “alright, we’re done here. you boys be in the van in five. i got somewhere to be.”

he trudges past you and a frozen choso, kicking the door open to leave.

the boys follow suit. satoru hops off the table, grinning. “nice one, cho!” he smacks choso’s arm as he walks past. sukuna bumps choso’s side lazily. suguru slings an arm over your shoulders to steer you to the van with the rest of them.

in the closet, choso kamo has his feet frozen in place and his face contorted in horror.

once again, our rockstar’s been caught.

R★CKSTAR CAUGHT, end.