duice

☁︎ duice | i write fan fiction of my hyperfixations for my own enjoyment.

☁︎ navigation | blue lock , jujutsu kaisen

☁︎ requests | there is no guarantee of me writing what’s submitted, but my inbox is always open. let's chat!

very short works on #takotakigum.extras

characters: michael kaiser x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, if you squint there’s the slightest mature theme here, word vomit, kaiser is in love, and this is a two-part post (this is part 1).

word count: 800

synopsis: headcanons of michael kaiser, a motorcyclist who wants more of you.

note: the nickname/callsign “liebling” means “darling”.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk! | part 2 — soon

biker!kaiser who loves to impress you. he’ll ride by your streets, making sure to make his engine extra noisy for you to hear through your windows—and he won’t stop until he’s received a message from you saying you’ve seen him breeze through outside your home for more than three times already.

biker!kaiser who fantasizes about you more than ever. after his usual races and rides with ness, he’ll come home feeling unsatisfied because of the lack of company—or rather—you. which drives kaiser crazy; how he’s only thinking about your weight pressing on him from behind, how your arms would probably hold onto his torso and waist so tightly, and how your chin would make its way to hide on his shoulder because of fear. or perhaps you wouldn’t be afraid? kaiser also thinks of the possibilities of your free laughter echoing through his helmet rather than the harsh winds from the speed. would you still hold his body close? would your hands be the ones resting on his shoulder? kaiser can’t find it in him to stop thinking about how you could act—which leaves him wanting more, needing everything to be known.

biker!kaiser who now has to ruin his pride and beg for you to go on a ride with him. more often than not, kaiser feels as though the back of his bike feels too light, too empty, and too cold: which is why this time, late at night, he shows up on your doorstep with his heavy helmet on one hand and a bouquet on the other. a pout dedicated to stay on his lips as his breath is a bit heaving, yet nonetheless is able to flaunt about the beautiful roses he’s gotten for you until you let him inside your home. and sooner or later, he’s flaunting about his precious motorbike, luring you into going on that sweet ride with him.

biker!kaiser who almost has his jaw on the floor when you agree to go on a ride with him. immediately, he disregards the bouquet and grabs your wrist, pulling you out the doorstep of your home before dragging you to where his motorbike awaits. the previous pout is long gone, instead, replaced with a smirk he dares not even hide from the late night’s winds.

biker!kaiser who—to your surprise and his excitement’s shock—ensures your comfort and safety is a must. you only now realize that he’s always brought along with him a spare helmet, and it’s all for you. his heavy hands help you get up his motorbike, lifting you up just enough by the waist to have you properly seated on his bike. and when he’s the one seated in front of you, he encourages you to hold onto him anywhere; be it his chest, torso, shoulders—anywhere, as long as that’s where you want to grab onto—is fine. kaiser, knowing it’s your first time riding with anyone at all, assures you that he’ll take it slow and not go over any speed limits this time. only this time, though. as the next with him will be a different situation, of course.

biker!kaiser whose heart beats a little bit faster and harder when he finally does hear your short gasps, tightening grip, and excited laughter near his heating ear; but true and real this time. it’s the cutest thing he’s experienced, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take. because with each heightened speed of his motorbike, your reaction is uncertain—and it’s all the best for him. even though no one can see his shit-eating grin through his helmet, kaiser still proudly shows it on his face, childishly hoping you catch him and poke fun at him for it.

biker!kaiser who gets a little bit too clingy when he feels sad that nothing lasts forever, and that your first ride with him has to have an end. sluggishly, after kaiser gets off his motorbike, he tells you to stay put, and he takes off the tight helmet off your head. taking his time, he combs through your disoriented hair as your flushed cheeks gets pampered by his rough knuckles. he’ll tell you how pretty you are, and how you exceeded his expectations of how your nervousness would hold out—all he would say to let the night last longer, all he would say to admire your pretty face stare right back at him like he’s the only man who motorbikes in the world.

biker!kaiser who hopes for another ride with you. when he can’t deny the look of your eyes drooping more than they should, he’ll comb through your hair once more, his face getting closer until you’re almost forced to lean back on nothing: your hands reaching back in support of your weight before kaiser drags his fingers on your back—playing with your loose night shirt’s fabric as his mouth whispers right below your ear: “next time, when we go for another ride; wear something nice for me, liebling. doesn’t that sound exciting?”

𖧧 gojo satoru | kiss it off me

characters: itoshi sae × gn!reader

warnings: implied smut/mature themes, no nut november, reader is lowkey a tease, no nut november as a warning itself, and touch deprivation.

word count: 600

synopsis: when itoshi sae found out what no nut november is about, he didn’t care about it one bit. that is until you tried getting him to participate.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

itoshi sae who tilts his head at you blankly when you ask him if he’s going to participate in no nut november. he asks you what the hell that is, and what it’s about. and even after you do explain it: that he can’t cum in by any means in the month of november—he doesn’t bother giving a response because he still doesn’t understand.

itoshi sae who—even days after—ponders on your explanation on what no nut november is, but inevitably thinks it’s stupid and immature. why should he not cum when you’re his and he’s yours? it’s utterly idiotic.

itoshi sae who notices that you haven’t been engaging in anything sexually intimate with him in this month. he doesn’t receive your hefty grinding on his lap, your tongue overly obsessed with his when making out, or even your sneaky touches to anywhere over his body. for days, he gets none of that. slowly, it bothers sae, and when he confronts you about it, you’re showing him a shit-eating grin that is sly enough to be considered innocent.

itoshi sae who starts to get sexually frustrated because he seems to catch on to what you’re trying to do. and because of your subtle teasing and unspoken encouragement to make him take part in no nut november, sae seems to crave for you even more.

itoshi sae who now gets hard whenever he thinks of you, all because his body and yours hasn’t made sexual contact in a week. during practices, he’ll exert twice as more effort into his routine to get his hazy head to stop thinking about you—and to stop his hardening dick to create a bulge through his rather tight sports shorts.

itoshi sae who starts to get so needy that he’s trying his best to have his crotch touch you and grind on you. sae holds you still when you’re trying to make him feel edged of anything that could lead him to cumming, his grip so tight that you feel the frustration and impatience run through the heat of his body against yours. he’ll whisper in your ear that this isn’t funny and that it’s getting annoying; to which only fuels your desire to tease sae even more.

itoshi sae who tries to relieve himself by pumping his cock in a steaming shower, letting low grunts echo within it but with no avail. despite different scenarios of you, despite how gentle or how rough his hand jerks him off—nothing seems to be working. his body can’t fucking cum when you’re not physically there. he looks down at his neglected dick with utmost frustration, his teal eyes barely being seen with such a from on his face; yet he can’t do anything about it.

itoshi sae who hasn’t cummed in three weeks, and decides that he’s had enough. he tells you the most sinful things he wants and wanted to do to you: from fucking you right when you wake up, when your mind is still unable to process anything to fucking you the moment he’s back from his shitty practice even if his body is lathered with sweat. sae pins you somewhere and whispers everything in your ear, grasping your hand sternly and dragging it from his tense abdomen and all the way down to his aching dick. and when you decide that your fingers will caress his twitching cock, sae only tells you that you have to fix it. everything his cock desires of you—you will comply.

itoshi sae who almost fucks you stupid on some wall in his apartment when you continue to palm his clothed, fully erected dick yet say that he can endure it for another week; no nut november is coming to an end, after all.

itoshi sae who—by god knows what miracle—agrees. all because you promise him that you’ll let him do whatever sexual fantasies he has the moment november has passed completely.

characters: itoshi sae × gn!reader

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationships, heavy codependency, burnt out sae, word vomit, sae is an idiot that’s too in love, and sae who’s emotions are all over the place.

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: the world itoshi sae once envisioned is so hazy, barely non-existent anymore. and it’s all because of you.

note: the nicknames/callsigns "mi amor" and "mi vida" mean "my love" and "my life".

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

my singular interest is becoming the best in the world—is something itoshi sae remembers saying to someone with much conviction.

oh, how he lies.

sae reminds himself to never let his mouth speak such nonsense driven by his now crippling ego. sae wants to go back in time, tell that stupid interviewer that he doesn’t care about being the best in the world if it means being the only one in your universe.

itoshi sae fell in love, to put it simply.

his singular interest is you. it doesn’t matter when, where, or what happens—it’s only you, the one and only other piece of his dull soul. when sae loves you, he feels it overwhelmingly all over him, too. he feels his body tingle with tenderness, he hears his breath shudder when talking to you, and so much more. at first, it was weird. although after a long run? it became addictive.

he longs for you in every way, even if you’re already his. sae doesn’t quite understand why, but he also feels like it also doesn’t matter; because he deeply misses your soft giggles that warm his neck when you’re too close to him, he misses your scent—fuck, he misses everything about you. so, naturally, sae feels like his heart is being ripped apart with every flight he has to take back to spain. during many occasions, sae almost begged you to go to him: interlocking your hands together until he reaches the entrance of the airport, not bothering to let go until you have to pry yourself away from him; and even staring sadly into your eyes with the faintest pout on his lips.

perhaps—no, sae is fairly certain about this—being away from you is one of the most agonizing things he has to experience in this life of his. sae wishes to curse his soccer team, his manager, or even anyone who arranged such a game far from home. or rather, far from you.

you’re so far away; he’s in his lukewarm apartment in spain, while you’re in your homey abode in japan. it sucks in his bedroom here. it’s awful, boring, and you-less. his bedsheets are soft, sure, but nothing will compare to the feeling of hugging your waist and burying his face into your soft skin. he takes a deep breath—it could be that he’s merely dreaming this boring setting, when you’re really lulling him to sleep—that’s why he’s stuck in it, yeah. yeah no…fuck, again, sae misses you far more than his patience could handle.

tiredly finding his phone on his mattress, his hands find its way to your contact in an instant, and he calls you. timezones be damned, because sae can’t take it anymore.

“shit,” sae feels his lips twitch, wanting to let an amused breath be heard by you over the phone. “uhh…hello?” it seems that only now do you think you’ve picked up the phone, voice dry of sleep.

“i love you.”

“huh?”

“i also miss you.”

“sae?”

“hi,” sae’s voice is muffled by his pillow, his face burning up as it still hasn’t adapted with his slippery tongue pouring affection onto you. “what’s wrong? it’s…uhm, 4am here, you know?” your voice is much clearer now, and it’s accompanied by a loose giggle into the phone’s speaker. sae knows you have an answer to your own question, he’s that obvious. “mn. sorry. i-” sae’s heart beats louder and faster when he hears your giggle once more become a tune to his ears. “love me? miss me?” you complete his thoughts, and sae holds onto every second of it. he hums quietly, nodding guiltily even if you couldn’t see it. “‘s okay calling me, sae. but i’m a bit sad right now.” your voice acts, and sae practically sits up his bed, phone pushing harder onto his ear to hear what’s happening.

“did something-”

“mhm, i was dreaming about you, and then…you woke me up.” you groan rather loudly, however, easing some weight on sae’s shoulders. “sorry for that too, mi amor.” he apologizes like he’s committed a sin; although deep in his heart that’s all for you, it probably is considered a crime. “fine. but do know that it’s suuper unfortunate.” sae’s heavy sigh of relief widens the smile on your face. god, the tension of amusement on your end is enough to be felt by sae—who knows what sae would do to see you with that pure smile right now.

“is it really unfortunate now? was the itoshi sae in your dream better than me? your real boyfriend, speaking to you right now?” instinctively, sae pouts as his eyebrows twitch to furrow, hoping for the answer his childish self wants. “hmm,” sae’s jaw slackens in disbelief, did you really have to think about it? his pout worsens, he can’t believe you had it in you to tease him when you’re probably half asleep, although, he may or may not really mind. “i like the sae in my dream better, maybe.” sae now scoffs, rolling his eyes pathetically. “mi vida, why are you like this?” sae questions, but that doesn’t particularly matter. at least, not when despite anything your personality gives him, he’ll accept.

“aren’t you curious, though?” you continue to tease.

“hmph. of course i am.” and sae’s adoration for you continues to indulge.

“remember when you took me on our first date?” your voice goes softer now, fond of the memory and storytelling. “do you think i’d forget?” how could he, though? how could sae forget how he regretted planning such a boring date—all because he didn’t think he’d fall into such a deep trench to love you? “c’mon, don’t be so down now, sae. it’s a good dream, promise.” it’s most likely, because as you’re thinking of the words to say, sae hears your covered yawns consecutively.

“felt like i relived our first date, you know? really nostalgic. we were walking out of the convenience store late november with a bag filled with your favorite popsicles.” your dream is spot on already. sae’s heart beats a little faster again. “then, we went to your favorite spot by the sea. it was extra cold, too. but we still ate the popsicles.” you laugh, warming sae’s thoughts as he reminisces about the chilly winds of the evening that you dared not complain about. instead, sharing countless of frozen popsicles sae still feels numbing his tongue with the kindest, most precious smile he’s ever seen.

“yeah, i remember that. why’s the sae in your dream better, then?” you’re a bit silent, as if unsure of what to explain.

“mi amor?” you only hum, still thinking about it, it seems.

sae gulps slowly—anxiously. because sometimes, itoshi sae wonders deep in his complex emotions that he’s weary of.

“mhmm, i’m still here.”

sometimes, itoshi sae wonders why out of all the people that could’ve and should’ve treat you better, you decide he’s the one.

“it’s just that, i guess i missed having you around right beside me? ah, but i think i’m just speaking nonsense, it’s almost past four thirty.” you don’t spout such things as nonsense, anything you have to speak about, sae withholds with utmost seriousness.

right now, itoshi sae is at that spiral of sudden insecurity.

“you- i’ll go home as soon as i can.” sae mutters, voice wavering as a part of him is scared. of what? losing you? a bit childish, still. he knows you’ll understand, everything and anything he’ll go through. it’s why he fell in love so deeply in the first place. you’re the first person to give him back the amount of love he never knew he was even capable of. don’t leave now: his heart whispers.

“sae, wait,” he can’t hear you, at least, not when his senses are fully enveloped in the listing of available flights back to japan as soon as possible—at 2am in spain in a bit looks promising enough for him.

“sae, listen to me first? you’re not going back here yet, you still have a game next week.” you remind him, but sae doesn’t care. “that doesn’t matter, current team i’m with is pretty shit. anyway, i miss you a lot, too. so it’s alright.” sae feels his stubbornness root from his core and out all across his body, and he feels guilty.

“itoshi sae.” just before sae could click his booking of the plane ticket, your stern voice halts his actions. a thin coat of sweat heats his palms as he fidgets with one finger. “mad?” he asks, throat clenched. “no, not at all. just, let’s talk, okay? promise me you’ll listen.” sae hears movement from your line, you’re probably beyond serious right now, sitting up on your bed, back resting on your headboard as your eyes look at the ceiling. “…sure.” it’s a promise.

“you know why you’re in spain, right? to pursue your dream—your passion, sae.” he wants to shake his head and deny everything, he wants to tell you to not continue any longer, because eventually, sae wouldn’t even know what to answer. “and i’m here back home, because i also have my dreams here. you understand that, don’t you? you miss me, and i miss you—that’s so normal, because i love you and you love me back, right? you’ll come home when you can, but not now,” why? is something sae wants to ask. “not now when your goal is right in front of you.” no—you’re not right on that one. “you don’t have to forfeit anything related to your dreams for me, you know that. i’ve told you that, yet you’re still as stubborn as ever, huh?” you let out a breath, your voice is neutral yet still heavy of sleep in hopes to reach him.

sae isn’t giving anything up, truly, he is not. his career from soccer has already gone shit, anyways. ever since he’s given up being the worlds best striker, he’s felt empty; trying to compensate with his new, still shitty, ambition of being the best midfielder there is. realistically, sae can’t give anything great up when everything is already lukewarm in his life.

however, in this life of his with only you matters; when the circumstance is him defying you as his sole dream—then, he has nothing to lose.

“i would quit football for you.” sae whispers, shocking not only you, but himself at the bluntness.

“you wouldn’t.” sae knows he shouldn’t, because you wouldn’t like that.

“i would, if you wanted me to.” rationally, he’s an idiot to say such things. because all his life, itoshi sae has been so inhospitable, never understanding certain lengths people would go through for another. all his life, he’s never felt like this. the version of himself three years ago—the him who stated that he has no other interest aside from being the best in the world—would curse him off, never to accept this current state of his. even though sae knows how to act, he throws out all that rationality when it’s you he’s thinking of.

to quit soccer for you? he would fucking do.

but is it for his own selfishness? he doesn’t know.

“i don’t want you to.” he knows. your voice a tad bit disappointed at him, and he’s a tad bit disappointed at the answer. “you can’t just throw everything out for me, sae. i wouldn’t like that.” reluctantly, sae closes the tab for booking flights with your low voice looming over him. “why? would you rather me be in spain for who knows how long?” sae tries to humor, although his voice falls far too seriously once more.

“i’d rather have you here with me. but…” sae’s breath hitches, clutching on his phone harder, eyes moving too much.

“but?” please, his heart begs, be something he’ll want to hear. tell him to go back to japan, tell him to leave everything behind in spain. please, his heart begs again. again. and again.

“hm, not if it means you giving up something you’ve worked hard for in the very beginning. that would be a waste, no?” fuck—how many times will his mentality scream at him? it’s not a waste. nothing is a waste for you. if him abandoning his career means being with you for as long as you allow him to, then it’s okay. if you being with him means he certainly has something to love and hold up to, then it’s beyond okay.

“mi vida, i-” sae lets out a shaky breath, he doesn’t know anymore. the corners of his eyes burn, and it starts to warn him of tears. “mi amor, what’s really wrong?” you answer back, voice so clear it makes him look to his side to see if you’re possibly with him in spain. now, he thinks you’ve pierced through a barrier sae never realized has been built. it crumbles, almost instantly, too, and sae confesses the first thing eating at the back of his mind: “i miss you so much. i want to go back, it’s so lonely here.” because you’re not here, is what sae wishes to express further.

“are you tired?” now, sae understands a part of him better. through the years of dating, he’s subconsciously relied on you for anything and everything. what matters to you is his guide on what should also matter to him.

itoshi sae, now understands that your love and care for him is one of the sole basis of his composure.

“very much.” his voice is so fragile, and sae hates how he’s aware you’re aching for not being there to physically comfort him and his collapsing mental figure.

he’s desperate, so please, do something about it. his body pleads entirely now, tears frantically pouring down his face with nothing to solace it. you hear him sniffle, hiccup—everything. you hear it. you wish you understood the underlying need of his, but he wouldn’t blame you if it were a bit later, as well. because sae only now discovers just how far the roots of his distress reaches.

“i see. then, come home, mi amor. i’ll be here waiting for you.”

☁︎ kinktober | a collection of the works i will make for my fandom’s self-insert category for the duration of the month. however, not necessarily following any prompts or dates.

☁︎ warning | i beg of whoever is going to read these to be mindful of the tags that will be included in each work. be responsible of the media you choose to read.

who knows what to expect? — #takotakinktober2023

jujutsu kaisen kinktober masterlist !

𖧧 gojo satoru — kiss it off me | dubcon/noncon , food play , more

characters: gojo satoru x fem!reader

warnings: dubcon (probably noncon), food play, making out, gojo satoru is a pervert, this is messy: both literally in writing and content, breast fondling, and breast kissing

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: that one summer day you find out gojo satoru might have a liking to your breasts…covered in melted ice cream.

takotakigum’s kinktober 2023 | please read at your own risk!

“i bought ice cream! anyone wants to share?” you hear an excited voice echo through the outside hallways of the classroom, a chill creeps through your spine despite the humid atmosphere all around you. of course, before you could even answer—which you didn’t even think of—the shoji loudly slides open with much force coming from gojo’s foot. there he stands, a big grin stretched along his face holding two cones of ice cream; his eyes becoming crescent shapes as his glasses fall loosely to his nose. “oh? there’s one one else here again?” from your desk, you shake your head to a no. although gojo doesn’t falter with his smile, but instead, he seems to get brighter. “well, more for us!” there’s only two cones in his hand, so you want to ask: how? but you don’t even know if he’ll give you a useful answer.

with the sweet tooth gojo satoru has, you’re in no way surprised that he absolutely loves eating ice cream on a particular hot summer day in jujutsu high.

however, something you did not expect is him also being extremely clumsy with his precious dessert that his arms are flailing by the second, his own ice cream cone abruptly dropping and splattering on the confinements of your jujutsu high’s uniform.

“gojo,” you sigh, looking down at your table, hoping the ice cream cone landed there. unfortunately, the cold, seeping substance you feel directly on your breasts proposes otherwise. “oh no, i’m so sorry!” overly dramatic and overly sarcastic is what gojo sounds like. “gojo,” you say again, eyes fixated on your messed up uniform as you hold in a deep frown. “it’s the fourth time this week.” you manage to say, goosebumps sprouting all over your arms when gojo leans closer to use his bare hands to wipe away the ice cream off your chest.

his fingers are slow, feeling up the accentuated curves on the upper half of your breast that got contaminated with the dessert. your breath quickens, and you bite your inner lip as you feel the pads of his fingers give little controlled pinches on your uniform’s fabric—acting like he’s soaking out the absorbed melted dairy when really he isn’t.

“has it been? gosh, i’m so sorry, really!” by now, irritation eases back the goosebumps that went up. “i don’t have any other spare uniform now, gojo.” your voice becomes smaller, yet it weighs the same. gojo knows it, he isn’t stupid—clumsy but not dumb. at least, not dumb on purpose. “hmm, but you shouldn’t even be wearing the outer uniform when it’s summer. did ‘ya know that?” with your three years of studying in jujutsu high: no, you didn’t. but it doesn’t even seem real, you should know.

before you could say anything, gojo’s hand now rises higher to the dry part of your uniform—the buttons on near your collar. for a brief moment of shock, you stay still, and you gulp at the sensation of gojo’s knuckles teasingly flutter against your neck. within that still moment, gojo was able to snap off the buttons in charge of closing your uniform’s top together with ease. naturally, your vest loosens, and the white button up you’re wearing inside peaks through. once more, your breath gets heavy. and it piques the interest of gojo in front of you even more.

“what are you doing?” you ask so sweetly—so innocently in gojo’s end. your hands try to close the buttons back up, getting conscious. “helping you clean and letting you cool down, duh!” gojo’s hands regress, sticky hands grab onto your outer uniform tighter, pulling it down until it’s crumpled up on your elbows. “‘s killing two birds with one stone.” he says, face too close. you feel his hair tickle your forehead with the way he’s leaning towards you eyes fixated down rather than in front of you. with your jaw going slack and face going hot, you quickly rush your hand to hide under his glasses, palm pushing tighter onto gojo’s eyelids when his hand squeezes on your shoulder.

in that moment of purely fluster, you realize gojo hasn’t moved. at that moment of broken composure, you forgot to remember some things. “you know,” your hand can feel the way gojo’s cheekbones contract as he—you assumes—smiles. “i can still see. even if you’re covering my eyes.” almost, you almost slap him. your still clothed breasts, with a faint stain of melted ice cream that has seeped through the first layer of fabric and onto the second—has been stared at by gojo for the past five minutes. “d-did you have to keep staring, then?!” your face is hot, your legs stiffly closed together under your table. “maybe?” from between his teeth, gojo sticks out his tongue as he grins.

taken aback by everything, you fail to feel the waving presence of gojo in front of you, then, a glob of white ice cream replaces the dollop of white hair that was once in front of you. “sorry, sorry.” even so the apology, gojo’s voice is still laced with amusement; his hand holding the cone obnoxiously swaying the ice cream side to side without care. like he wants it to melt and holler down back to your chest. “what do you want me to do with that?” you ask, the sweet treat getting closer to your lips by each word you speak. gojo only shrugs, not stopping until your mouth has been smothered with the cold temperature of the dessert.

suddenly, the wave of coolness disappears within an instant. instead, it’s replaced with gojo’s own lips. you dare not admit how soft it feels, or how if he pushed his body a little bit more onto yours, your mouth would’ve been so weak that it would open up just enough for his tongue to slip in and taste the rest of you. but somehow, your senses get a hold of you. and this time, you really were about to slap him—that is until his hand wrap around yours and nonchalantly holds them with a level of strength you struggle to be released with.

your breath is heavy as gojo’s tongue prods into your mouth. disgustingly so, it’s sweet. all of his essence is so, so disgustingly fucking sweet. his tongue is deep in your mouth, saliva of which you don’t even know is from trickles along the side of your chin, mixing in with the remains of the melted ice cream down on your neck. with a loud, needy release from your mouth, gojo pants along with you. you’re unable to speak, though. with the way his tongue is undying as it laps on your lips hungrily for every bit of stray sweetness, you’re in no shape to move an inch.

however, when gojo’s mouth roughly kisses down from your lips and follows the trail of melted spit and dairy to your neck and collarbones, you make an attempt to push him off. somewhere along the desperation of touch by gojo, his glasses falls on the ground, although you nor him spared the time to glance at anything other than the moment. you feel as though each push you project onto him, he places more of his body weight to you. you whine in each attempt of defeat, and with each whine slips out an undistinguishable moan from the back of your throat. your body naturally lets it out, continuously, too as gojo begins sucking on your neck, leaving pink bruises.

“so sweet, aren’t you?” with a voice so hoarse like that, you can’t seem to deny the way your nipples harden under your clothing anymore. “gojo,” you whine, eyes shut close as blood continues to rush up to your cheeks and stain. “no,” you whine again, head turning left and right with all your strength when you feel his tongue play lower than your collarbone.

“be a good girl and hold onto my shoulders for a bit, ‘kay?” you shouldn’t. god fucking knows you shouldn’t when the opportunity to distance yourself is right there. but alas, you obey. your hands weakly clutch on the fabric of gojo’s uniform—exactly on his shoulders, as he asked you to. your body and mind do not intersect into any agreement. your mind is telling you to use your strength to pull gojo away, to use your arms to do something that would retain your self respect. but your body? it can’t hear it—can’t understand it.

just like how gojo’s ears sign deaf when you whisper and choke on your own words trying to tell him to stop—to not go anywhere lower than your neck. after successfully undoing the buttons of your last remaining top, gojo’s fingers scoop up the last bit of ice cream that’s almost liquid on the table. you yelp out at the cold substance being massaged onto your breast, especially the nipple. “tastes better like this, i have to say.” gojo speaks like he’s ever had a hold of your tits before. his tongue is back with more fervor than you’d imagine. it flicks over one of your nipples, sucking loudly and groaning when the soft skin easily gets squeezed by his other hand.

you, are a different story. as gojo seems to bask in your melodic, repetitive moans of his name, you feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes angrily as gojo’s pace is too far beyond enjoyable; layers of sweat accumulating on your skin, giving it an extra shine gojo is murmuring about. but even so, why did you not beg of him to stop? when did you forget to shake your head no after the first few times? even with gojo’s hands and mouth dissipating all the innocence on your body, even with his bite marks charring your skin with evidence of sin—why does your lower abdomen twist for more?

as your thighs subconsciously rub against one another along with your fingers gripping on gojo’s hair and shoulder so tightly—gojo’s phone rings—too loudly.

“fuck,” he clicks his tongue, licking one last stripe of whatever your breast has to offer and rises his head to give you one last deep kiss for you to feel the fleeting moments of his sore tongue. gojo takes the call right in front of your face, his lips swollen as his eyes are gazed in lust. “gotta take this mission, sweets.” gojo says, face morphing into a look of stoicism as he finds his disregarded glasses on the floor. gojo wipes some excess spit-mixed-with-dairy with his hand from your cheeks to suck in his mouth. you, being dumbfounded, is unable to say anything before gojo is near the open shoji already.

“gojo! are we not going to talk about this?? fuck that mission, please get back here and-” as if nothing ever happened, gojo beams a smile at you. red lips unwavering as he bids you farewell.

“i’ll buy ice cream again when i get back, then we can continue~ ah, but first, you should fix up. you might get cold next.” with a wink, he’s gone. leaving you in your heated, disheveled state: clothes crumpled all apart, hair disorganized, chest heaving with large breaths of hair—and all the possible things gojo has done to you.

characters: itoshi sae x gn!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, sae and his skincare, absolute word vomit, sleepy reader, and idiots in love.

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: itoshi sae loves two things: listening to you talk and doing skincare with you.

note: the nicknames/callsigns “mi corazon” means “my heart”.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

when out after a long day, a quick shower would certainly suffice enough for you to comfortably rest, right?

not really. at least, not when itoshi sae is your partner.

“do you want to do a face mask tonight? we’ve been out all day.” sae states—not ask; like it should be. “no. i want to sleep.” you whine when sae places you down on the counter near the bathroom sink, gently clearing away the bottles and containers of moisturizer out of the way. “you can sleep in a bit. i mean, after this.” as your arms try to hold onto sae’s nape for longer, stray droplets of water acting as a bond between the two of you for you to decide that you can’t let go; however, sae easily breaks the embrace apart to look at you directly with his eyes.

much to your weak protests, sae takes two identical hair wraps to secure over your hairline, his fingers dropping slightly to soothe over your pouting cheek. “pink suits you.” a smug smile itches to widen on sae’s mouth, but his gaze is as still as ever. “‘cause it’s your color, right?” his lips now form a smirk, his eyes half-lidded as he takes in your face blooming a casual smile.

your own fingers mindlessly play with the loose threads of sae’s towel, and despite your exhausted demeanor, you grab the other headband from sae’s free hand and prepare to place it on his. however, even though it’s a quick process, you move with slow steps. your palm hovers over sae’s forehead while your fingers diligently comb through his damp hair, untangling some fractions of hair—but ultimately—messing with sae’s blunt bangs.

“that’s enough. i thought you were tired?” now, he pouts; and sae drags your hand away from his ruffled, messy hair. “i am. reaaally tired!” sae listens to your exaggerated complaints, one hand holding onto yours as he rummages through the miniature refrigerator on the other side of the countertop in which he stores his face masks. “mhm,” sae hums to you until he finally finds a perfect mask for the both of you to relish in.

“you had fun though, didn’t you?” while sae opens the packet, he awaits for your answer. his knuckles graze over your cheek to ensure that your skin is dry, although sneaking in a subtle boop on your nose as he passes by it. “i did have fun, lots of it.” and as your grin is competing with your droopy eyes from the memory of the day, your body suddenly jolts and your eyebrows scrunch together. sae curses himself, perhaps—because he frowns at the realization that he wasn’t able to glance at the possibility of that toothy of a grin you might’ve showed. however, when his fingertips softly start to smoothen out the creased material, you start to relax: eyes fluttering for a few more moments before fully closing as your lungs let out a deep sigh of breath. so, somehow, it makes up for the lost smile.

“you were saying, mi corazon?” with the excess moisture of the face mask left on his fingers, he rubs it on your neck as if indicating for you to speak. “it’s so cold, it’s like you’re purposely trying to wake me up.” you mumble, head feeling heavy when you tilt your head up to look at sae from your eyelashes. “you- i meant about you having fun today, stupid.” sae pokes at your side with a sting of annoyance, and once more you jolt, letting out a sore squeal. “it was really nice, i missed going on long dates with you. well, you know, when it’s that peaceful. it was…” as you’re reminiscing, sae starts to open up the second face mask for his face; and you only realize because of the cool fragrance making it’s way to your senses in unintentional attempts to wake you up.

your arms feel light—or perhaps heavier than usual, you can’t really tell at this state—when you reach up at sae’s bare face. your vision dims, it goes so blurry that the only illuminating figure in front of you is sae. right now, he looks ethereal. sae’s features—the overly gentle ones you are exclusively only allowed to see—staring right at you. your breath hitches, and it almost stops. because sae’s face looks like it’s inching closer, his own breath of air being shared with your proximity.

“yeah? come on, tell me more.”

and so you do.

you tell him how nice the weather was, how surreal the day was because everything you stumbled upon seemed purely out of luck. then, you tell sae how you felt the whole day, how you had to stop yourself from doing little jumps of excitement when he took you to the multiple local street vendors all around the area where you both had the main date. and you continue on, recalling every little detail you had felt, remembering every little gesture sae had done—all of it, you tell to sae.

somewhere along you babbling on, sae’s already removed the lukewarm face masks from both your faces and disposed of it already. and when you finally notice, you’re beyond hyperaware of sae’s light, gentle fingers massaging the excess hydration serum that came with the face mask all over your face.

it’s so soft, you realize. warm, too. your eyes follows the subtle movements of sae’s wrist as you feel all the precise motions sae does on your face. “and…uhm…” even your voice starts to drift off, your head going blank as it weighs itself completely on sae’s palms. “mi corazon,” sae calls out once, and it echos through the bathroom much like a whisper from a dream. “everything you said wasn’t a lie, no?” sae’s voice keeps getting quieter, but you’re still aware that you’re not yet asleep, only heavy eyes are your challenge. “‘s all the truth, loved it so much.” sae now removes your hair wrap with a level of caution he’s never even known is possible, afraid of disturbing such a moment with you.

“…i see. would you like to go on a date like that again?” soon. sae also hopes. and his own excitement bursts through the limits when he feels your head attempt a weak—but repetitive—nod on his hand caressing your cheek. “mhmm. but,” you murmur so timidly it worries sae. “but? what’s wrong, mi corazon?” sae stops himself from pinching your cheek for an immediate answer, so instead, he waits. he waits for over what feels like his whole life as his thoughts come circling over his mind invasively.

“but i’m really sleepy right now.” it’s laughable, really. at least, for sae it is. because his cheekbones are so evident, he doesn’t know if he wants you to see his less composed self or if he wants to keep the feeling a secret for the time being.

“i know you are.” with sae’s tender smile not faltering, he leans into you a bit closer, grabbing something from behind you. “let’s skip everything else but this for now.” sae wants to laugh, truly. because you nod, even if you didn’t know what he’s talking about. with exactly four pumps of his moisturizer, sae carefully spreads it all over your face until it’s perfectly coated all over. quickly, sae does it for his own face before abruptly stopping when you weakly whine for wanting to go to bed to finally fall asleep properly.

and so, sae complies. he picks you up from the countertop, securing your legs around his hips as he walks you both to your shared bedroom. thanking sae, you bring your head away from his shoulder to place a feather of a kiss on his cheek. “thank you,” once more, you kiss his porcelain skin. “for always taking care of me.” sae slowly descends you onto the bed, you back immediately sinking on the mattress as sae’s body hovers over you. his parted lips dare not leave a mark on your cared for face.

“why wouldn’t i care for you?” is the last mumble of words sae releases into the solemn moonlit night as his body delicately cuddles on top of yours with a body and soul all mended for you.