Gojo Satoru X Fem!reader (continued)

→ Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader (continued)

Genre: NSFW 18+, FWB, sort of college AU, basically smut with plot including a disgusting amount of fluff.

Notes: A continuation of this piece I wrote but one could be read without the other. Also I didn’t have time to thoroughly edit, sorry.

Warning: 18+, smut including explicit language, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving), praise. Smoking marijuana and slight mentions of self sabotaging behaviour/depression (if you squint). Readers discretion is advised.

WC: 5.5k

Satoru frowned, trying hard to ignore the disturbance and continue sleeping, but it was no use. He grudgingly lifted his head off the pillow and turned to look at the door with squinted and sleepy eyes, expecting to see a crying Megumi standing there, sniffling about how he had a bad dream. But instead, his eyes landed on the frame laying across from him, reminding him that somehow he’d managed to get you to stay the night.

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“I love fireworks!”

my pretty girl

yuuta reminds you who you belong to.

pairing : yuuta x reader (feminine pronouns. afab)

rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content)

type : one-shot

tags : high school!au, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, clothed sex, jealous sex, praise kink, verbal degradation, dirty talk, the usage of the words "whore" and "slut", blowjob, vaginal fingering, manhandling, slight choking, cumming inside, yuuta is jealous and possessive and hot

word count : 2,401

author's note : LOVESSS thank you so much for 100 followers!? i wrote this as my jjk debut fic, also as a celebratory fic, also as a way to treat myself while working on the requests. this might be ooc but idc because (jealous) yuuta is fucking hot.

( masterlist │ ask/request  │ ao3 )

“What?” The uninterested look he bore sent an electric thrust down your body as you felt another cry edging on your lips as his length continued harshly slamming down your throat. “Stop acting like my cock’s too big for you.”

Your knees were starting to hurt against the cold bathroom tile—bruising, you were sure, turning blue and purple—but Yuuta was merciless. He didn’t care about the brimming tears in the corner of your eyes, didn’t care about your shaking legs or your small chokes.

Slobbering sound filled the small stall, and you sat on the floor obediently like a little puppy as he used your mouth to his liking. Your uniform was wholly unbuttoned, bundled up at your elbows with your nipples peeking from your bra.

It was always his favorite look on you—clothed in the school’s garb, skirt barely covering your delicious ass and bra barely containing your tits. He thinks you look fucking hot in times like these, especially when you’re being so good, sucking him dry as class continued to take place.

“That’s it,” Yuuta groaned, throwing his head against the door as he dragged the cigarette off his lips, blowing an array of smoke into the air. You’ve gotten used to the cigarette by now, in fact, you loved inhaling the bitter nicotine as he continued facefucking you.

The thought of being Yuuta’s faithful whore—the one he has at his disposal at all times—arouses you to the point of madness, all the times he fucks you behind the school or on top of the teacher’s table after class.

You felt your panties dampening as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping your head in your place as he changed the pace to a quicker one, accelerating the beats of your heart.

“Gonna cum, yeah?” He gritted, his wet balls hitting your chin as you struggled to keep your eyes open at him—good girls maintain eye contact when being talked to. The harsh tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, your jaws hurt as hell, but you kept still.

Your fingers crumpled against your skirt when he gave you one last thrust, shooting his warm seed down your throat. You struggled against his length, the fluid sliding down your throat as you swallowed all of him.

When Yuuta pulled his limping dick out of you, it was like a gasp of fresh air. You could feel your dizzy head gaining oxygen, blinking your pretty lashes up at him as he pulled your arm to get you to stand up straight. You could still taste his sweet seed on your tongue, smeared all over your lips too, making you look like a wrecked mess.

Yuuta clicked his tongue, “Turn around.”

You obeyed his order, whimpering softly when you felt the bruised skin of your knees pressing against the cold toilet lid.

He threw the cigarette bunt on the floor, killing it with his steps as he pushed you against the closed toilet bowl, your hands holding yourself up against the wall. You felt his large hands roaming your thighs, palming your ass under your skirt with a hard squeeze.

A whimper escaped your mouth, and he scoffed, rubbing the slickness of your slit through your thin panties. He pushed them aside to dip his calloused ring finger in your folds, your juice immediately coating his digit, before pulling away.

Using one finger to slid them down to your mid-thighs, Yuuta spread your ass cheeks for a moment to admire how wet you were, with your pussy lips glistening and hole nipping at nothing, like inviting him to ravish your pussy.

“Yuuta,” you mewled quietly as his hand found your throat. You felt his tip prodding the entrance of your cunt, slowly kissing the insides of your pussy.

“Mhm?” He pressed his chest against your back, his other hand snaking around your upper body to grope on your tit. “Can you feel me inside of you?” He whispered against your ear, lips nibbling on it, the smell of nicotine on his breath causing you to tense against him.

You whimpered, squeezing your hands as you felt your pussy accommodating the size of his cock, his length filling you completely. Your hole was burning, and you tried blinking away the leftover tears from when he mouthfucked you.

“Can you feel how easy you’re taking me in right now? Didcha got this wet from just sucking me off?”

He pressed his lips against your wet cheek, using his fingers to roll your nipple between them. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, breathing in heavy his peculiar scent that seemed to drive you even more to the edge. Your cunt was burning, everything was so hot, you found yourself lost in the way your walls were perfectly wrapping around his cock, the way his big hands were holding you so tightly that you felt like you could have burst at any moment.

When you didn’t respond to his questions, however, he stopped pushing himself in.

“Answer me.”

You took your lower lip between your teeth, nodding your head with your eyes shut, almost complaining at his pause, but you knew better.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to grind yourself down to him, “I— I can feel you in me.”

Yuuta gave a satisfactory hum, letting you press your ass on him and swallow his dick whole. He watched your expression, the way your pretty, plump lips quiver with every breath you took. He looked down on your ample tit, cupping it through the fabric of your laced bra, letting you make full of his hand.

You fit in so perfectly in his hands, he felt you swallow your slobbering spit down your throat, it was like you were designed just for him.

“Good girl,” the praise that came out his mouth excited you.

You peeked at his face—so close to yours, just inches away from kissing your lips—and felt his hand tightening around your throat. Your cunt clenched, chest heaving at the greed in his gaze.

“My good girl?”

Yuuta pulled himself away, your pussy already missing the way he was jamming you full. You could feel your back arching, mouth nodding as you mindlessly chased after his dick.

“Yours,” you slurred, mouth staring at his full lips, and Yuuta snickered at how fucking stupid you looked, tongue out and eyes half-lidded.

You were completely devoid of him by now, only his tip stayed in your little cunt and you whined to get his attention, pushing your face against his cheek.

“My little whore,” he said again, the hand on your tit leaving to rub itself all over your torso. You felt his hard palm traveling under your skirt to lightly graze on your clit.

You whimpered, nodding your head, still trying your best to keep your eyes open and maintain your eye contact. Yuuta watched how drool was starting to collect on the edge of your lips with your mouth wide open.

His two fingers rubbed down on your clit, causing you to let out a small yelp, your hips rolling down to his hands as you quietly pleaded for him, “Rub my clit harder, please, Yuuta.”

“This cunt,” he rested his chin on your shoulder, following your pleas and pressed down on your clit harder, to take a better look at the expression you were making, “whose is it?”

You gritted your teeth, the sensation of his fingers rubbing circles, so wet and hot, burning a fire inside of you.

“Yours,” you let out a long whine, feeling your knees shudder as you approached an orgasm.

“Yuuta,” you called out, already forgetting his dick in your cunt as you grind down to his hand. “Think ‘m cumming, think—haaahhh—cumming, cumming—“

As you felt your hips bucking, clit suddenly overwhelmed with sensitivity, Yuuta slammed his cock right back into your empty cunt. You threw your head back at the sudden thrust, keeping your eyes at Yuuta to recognize amusement in his eyes.

“Yuuta,” you felt your body go limp, but his strong arms held you up. You could feel him pounding your pussy in a hard, rhythmic pattern, not giving your clit a break.

“Yuutaaaa,” your fingers clawed at the wall, “s’too much, too much, too deep.”

“Too much?” He mockingly repeated, his big cock constantly splitting you wide open, “you’re my good girl, you just gotta fuckin’ take it.”

You gasped at every one of his thumps, vision blurring as he overstimulated your throbbing clit.

Your whining was getting louder, echoing through the empty bathroom walls, drowning in the sound of your squelching cunt.

“Takin’ me in so good,” he grunted, shutting his eyes as his lips made their way to press fluttering kisses on the back of your shoulder, “you really are my little whore, huh? My slut?”

“Yours yours yours,” you pressed your lips together to prevent a curse from slipping out.

“Not Fushiguro’s, not Inumaki’s,” he dug his teeth down your skin, and you could feel his thrusts getting harder and harder, hitting you in your good spots. “Especially not fucking Itadori’s, right?”

You whimpered, head nodding.

“You’re lucky I’m so nice,” Yuuta finally released your clit from his fingers, both hands going to grasp hard on your hips as he lifted himself from you to properly hammer your cunt. “Shit— lucky that when I see you act so good and nice to Itadori, all I do is pound this little pussy, huh?”

He flipped your skirt to see your full ass, dragging your hips before slamming them down to his crotch.

“Fuck, go ahead,” he grunted, “you can thank me for being so kind.”

“Thank—hng!“ you sputtered, accompanied with little gasps and mewls, “Thank you—“

He didn’t let you finish.

Yuuta took your arm and pressed your back against his chest, his lips finding their way to your neck, biting down and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bit of your skin, marking you as his own.

“I’m cumming,” he kissed the skin under your ears, the pace of his hips suddenly becoming erratic.

“Cum inside,” before he could say anything, you squealed out the offer, feeling your walls tightened around him. “Fill me up— up with your c-cum,” you felt your tits spilling out of your bra.

Yuuta hooked his arm with your elbows, “Gonna fill you up so good.”

You nodded your head, biting your lips before eventually letting your mouth hang open as he pumped into you, “Fill me.”

Who was he to refuse?

Yuuta dug his teeth on your shoulder again, completely thrusting into you two more times before pausing. You held your breath, cunt twitching when you finally felt his warm semen filling your pussy the same time you reached another orgasm, juice only not flowing out of your hole because his dick was stuffing you full.

“Fuuuuck,” Yuuta breathed, letting go of your hands to only grope at your tits, still propping you up against his chest. He roughly pulled the tight fabric down and watched your tits bounce out, jiggling after being freed. He pressed his nose against your neck, “You look so good.”

“S’big,” you murmured as his fingers pinched your nipples, causing you to jolt in surprise. “You’re so big—“

“You’re my whore, arentcha?” He gave your tits one last squeeze before letting you go, softly pushing your body down on the toilet lid so that your ass was high up in the air. “You can take it.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and he watched how your ass cheeks were slapping against each other, his cock still buried deep inside of you.

Yuuta slowly pulled his softening dick from your hole, the squelching sound decorating the air before finally disappearing with his dick. He crouched on the floor, using one thumb to spread your pussy lips apart, watching the mixture of his thick cum and your juice dribbling down your thigh.

He pressed a soft kiss against your entrance, and you reached your hand out to push his face away, already feeling your cunt secreting more slickness at the touch.

“Yuuutaaaa…”

He chuckled, and instead of eating you out, he dipped two fingers in your soaking cunt, scissoring you wide open as soon as you swallowed his fingers whole.

You pressed your face against the ceramic of the toilet, gripping on it with your eyes shut.

Yuuta pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, watching in delight as you obediently took his fingers in, before adding a third one.

“I’m the only one who can see you like this,” he muttered, as you tried muffling your whimpers with the skin on the back of your hand. “Wet, full of cum, squirming around my fingers.”

You nodded your head, though you were not sure if he could see you or not.

He curled his three fingers inside your cunt, causing your knees to wobble under the weight of your sensitive body.

“Say it,” he urged, constantly curling them inside as if caressing your pussy walls.

“You— you’re the,” your mouth gaped, voice unclear from all the bliss, “the only one, see me— see me like— nghh—“

Yuuta scoffed at your lack of ability to do what he wanted, but he quickened the pace of his fingering, hitting you deeper with every thrust.

“Yeah,” he finally said, “we know you’re dumb for my fingers. Don’t gotta show it, you fucking slut.”

You whimpered, but you continued anyway.

“Yours,” you kept trying to say, insisting on him knowing that you belong fully to him and no one else. You cunt squeezed his three fingers, hips slowly rolling. “N-not Fushiguro’s—“

“Mhmm?” Yuuta raised an eyebrow, a small smirk etched on his lips as he felt his dick hardening again.

He really didn’t pick the wrong girl to be with, you were so perfect and so good for him, so faithful to him and just him.

“—n-not Inu— Inumaki’s—“

Yuuta pulled his fingers away and stood up, positioning his hardening dick on your entrance once again.

“—a-and especially n-not Ita— Itadori’s—“

He pummeled your needy hole again, satisfied at your pretty voice, telling him that you didn’t belong to any of those other guys.

“That’s it,” Yuuta pulled himself out of your cunt before slamming himself inside again, “pretty girl, my pretty girl.”

DAYDREAMING!AU || a little petty

request: okay but can we perhaps see yuuta getting protective of DDR….. and maybe him saying something along the lines of ‘leave my girlfriend alone’…..

please? for a treat?

note: honestly, you know my weakness for my babies >< whenever i get to write for my husband Yuta, there is no way I can avoid that faith lmao. 

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

If there was one thing that Yuta prides himself of, it is his patience. 

From the moment he had entered the college, he had been taught that the patient person always gets the outcome that they want at the end. And from the most part, he likes to think that he does take that advice to heart and try to be the best version of himself that he possibly can be. However, everything has a limit. 

And the longer he stared from where he was seated, grip tight around his glass of iced juice, he was starting to think that he was going to find his limit today. 

It all started with a message - Yuta was quietly washing up from the lunch that Y/N had made them when he heard the sound of familiar footsteps running towards him; warm giggles filling the air of the communal kitchen. Just hearing those giggles had Yuta chuckling as he turns off the faucet, wiping his hands dry with a towel just as he turns to catch the giggling girl in his arms. “What got you all excited like this?”

Yuta’s amused question was answered with another fit of giggles before Y/N pulls her face away from his chest, holding her phone screen to the taller male before him. “Remember Hatori? Him, Riku and I are classmates when we were younger, and Riku keeps in contact with our middle school classmates,” Y/N explained whilst Yuta thought back to the couple he had met a few times - Hatori and his boyfriend, Riku had grilled him the moment they found out that he was dating Y/N. But it was all done out of love for her, and soon the three men became good friends; Yuta playing video games with Toge and Riku, and share a few texts with Hatori about new anime merch and where to get them. “What about it?”

“They are having a get together for everyone who is in middle school!,” Y/N replied excitedly as she shakes her phone before his face, to which Yuta just chuckles before he carefully catches her wrist with one hand to stop her shaking. Squinting at the screen a little, he read over the simple message that Riku had sent to a group chat that the three of them are in; humming quietly at the link to register for the event. “I guess you wanna go?”

Keep reading

just wondering if you’d think yuuta would be jealous of the first years getting too comfy with s/o like maybe one time s/o called out “yuu” both yuuji & yuuta respond & they’re like 👁👄👁

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 | 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀.

you’re sweet, it’s yuuta’s favorite thing about you—a little too sweet at times, but it’s lovable all the same. and yuuta has grown some, he’s not as much of the timid young boy as he used to be. fighting curses and seeing the things he has and training as vigorously as he does is enough to toughen anyone up, and he’s no exception. but still, he’s always remained your kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta deep down.

and then there’s yuji. yuji is too perfect for his own good. he’s too easy to befriend, too easy to trust, too easy to grow fond of, and too easy to love.

he’s kind, sweet, sensitive, and magnetic. now that’s a deadly combination if he’s ever seen one, and if the way your eyes brighten when you see yuji is anything to base it off of, yuuta would say you think so too.

“yuu,” you call out, a small grin on your face as you approach yuuta and the pink-haired boy beside him, and when both of their heads snap to your direction, yuuta can’t help but feel his stomach churn. “oh,” you pause, blinking for a moment before giggling, “i meant him,” you point to yuuta.

he’s a tad bit relieved that it’s him you’re looking for, or he thinks the churning in his stomach would be infinitely worse. but then yuji smiles bashfully, looks down and lets out a nervous chuckle as he blushes, and then yuuta’s fists clench just a little.

yuji seems rather fond of you, fond enough that it makes yuuta’s heart plummet—and truth be told, it also makes his blood boil just a little.

“oops,” his younger classmate huffs out a soft laugh, “guess i got ahead of myself there,” he murmurs.

“aww, yuji,” you tease, and much to yuuta’s horror, you’re reaching over to pinch itadori’s cheek, and he’s left to wonder—when had you gotten so comfortable that causal touches were a part of the norm? “if you want a nickname you can just say so.”

“that’s not what i meant,” itadori mumbles shyly. “i just…you know…yuji? yuu? i thought it was for me for a second there.”

“it was for yuuta. for me,” yuuta cuts in, and he has to dig his nails into his palm as he clenches his fists, watching you smile gently to itadori. it’s okay, your expression reads, almost like you’re reassuring the boy—but it’s not okay.

your yuu is him—yuuta. not yuji. you’re here for him, to see him, to smile at him and grab his hand and tug him along as he follows. but you’re staring at itadori fondly, and it’s starting to hurt just a little.

“well we can’t both be yuu,” itadori laughs good-naturedly, and if he wasn’t such a gentle soul, yuuta wonders if he’d hate the boy. but there’s no hating itadori yuji—he’s much too good deep in his soul to be hated. “i’ll leave you two alone then,” he hums, patting your head with a happy smile before he’s off.

the touch isn’t even to him, but yuuta feels his skin burn, prickling at every inch as his heart drops.

you turn to him, beaming as your arms nestle their way around his neck, and even if not enough, there’s still some comfort in the action.

“hi baby,” you murmur, pressing a soft peck to his jaw, “i was looking for you.”

and this is silly—this is small, and not that big of a deal, and not even your fault, but yuuta can’t help the doubts that slowly plague his mind. he can’t fight the voices that hunch over his back and whisper into his ear, drowning out the sound of your voice before you can make it all better.

“me?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that almost says he doesn’t believe you. your brows furrow just a little, your hand sliding to cup his cheek and tilt his face to look at you better.

“yes you, silly,” you huff out a small laugh, “who else?”

yuuta wants to mutter that evidently, it could seem like a certain someone, but he doesn’t have the heart to ever be grouchy with you. so he swallows his insecurities, tries to bury them in the deepest of crevices in his mind so they won’t be dug up again—but it’s like he’s digging into concrete, and the ground is too tough, just won’t break to let him shove his feelings down.

“no one,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

and if you decided one day that itadori yuji was the boy of your dreams, that he was the one who could paint your skies and hang the stars just how you’d like them, yuuta doesn’t think he’d be surprised. if itadori is a swirl of vivid shades, colors that could brighten your world and bring you to life—yuuta thinks he pales in comparison, dim hues muddled together that could never show you the world through scenery as breathtaking.

but then your thumb trails over his cheek, tracing the soft curve of his face before hooking under his chin and pulling his face a little closer. he settles for looking at your lips, not yet ready to meet your gaze.

“what’s wrong, baby? what’s got you so down, hmm?” your voice is concerned, a soft breath that rolls off your tongue and soothes over the aches, placating them so easily—but he’s left to wonder: how long?

how long can you keep up the facade that he’s enough for you to happily crave more and more of? how long can you keep looking him in the eyes and getting lost in their depths? how long before enough is simply not enough any longer?

he doesn’t voice his concerns. “nothing,” he shrugs instead. “what are you—”

“don’t say nothing,” you sigh quietly, and by now, your hand has wandered past his shoulder to bury into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently as you twirl the strands of dark locks around your fingers. “it can’t be nothing, you know. no one knows you better than me,” you say with a sense of pride in your voice.

there’s a small bit of hope in that—a small part of him that revels in the victory of knowing you’re prideful that you see past him and catch glimpses no one else can. so he lets himself be vulnerable with you—because even with his doubts, he’s still you’re kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta.

“just…didn’t know you and itadori knew each other so well,” he finally mumbles. it’s silent for a moment, and yuuta starts to accept that maybe you’re going to say what he knows is inevitably coming after all.

anyone would love to know itadori yuji like that—why should you be an exception?

yuuta wishes it was before he fell so hopelessly for you, wishes it was before the sound of your laugh was a melody he knew by heart—it’d hurt less, it wouldn’t make his lip wobble the way it’s wobbling right now.

“oh, baby,” you chuckle, cupping his face with both your hands, squeezing them together as you pull his forehead to yours, “you don’t have to be jealous. he’s just yuji.”

you offer him a sweet smile and eyes full of light, and he offers you a teary-eyed tilt of his head in confusion.

“but—”

“but you’re yuuta. you’re my yuu,” you whisper against his mouth, breath fanning over his skin before you press a delicate peck onto his lips. it’s short, a little too quick for his liking, but it makes him shiver nonetheless. “and i love you, my pretty boy.”

one more peck to his lip, then two, and then you’re kissing him deeply, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your hips before your arms wrap around his neck once more. he pulls you closer on instinct, and even if yuuta sees himself a muddle of colors, he feels bright hues seep through your lips and color him new—and it’s enough.

he thinks it’s enough, even if just for now.

“you were looking for me?” he asks breathlessly one more time as he pulls away, just to be sure. you watch as his eyes lighten a shade as you nod, smiling when his arms wrap impossibly tighter around you.

“of course, i was,” you press a kiss to his jaw, “who else?”

your honor he is my sugarplum baby boy

𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞. | 𝐠.𝐬.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x reader ft. megumi fushiguro

𝐰𝐜: 1.4k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: its a piece of cake to bake a cake, as long as you follow the recipe—or, gojo satoru was never the best at following instructions, but at least he tries.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐰: fluff, hurt/comfort, fear of growing up, minor existential crisis, one suggestive line, no-curse au, gojo adopts megumi au (?), pls let me know if I miss anything!

𝐚/𝐧: this was supposed to be comedic but it ended up being a bit sad LMFAO im actually a little scared to post this bc I had no beta review this...ill probably post it and never look at it again lol but pls let me know what you thought!

Constant huffing, with a desperate groan sprinkled here and there, caught your attention the moment you set foot inside the apartment. All lights, except for the kitchen's, were turned off. A distinct smell of baked goods—or slightly burnt goods, if you will—filled the entranceway, and you followed blindly.

Finally gracing the kitchen with your presence, the image in front of you left you mildly speechless. In front of you, was Gojo Satoru, hair tousled and hands shaky, his back was bent over at a weird angle so his eye line would match the edge of the counter, all his attention was on steadying the piping bag he held with a shaky hand.

It was adorable, the way the tip of his tongue would poke out, with his brows furrowed in the utmost concentration. Multicoloured icing stained his pretty face, highlighting the roundness of his cheeks. He held in a breath as if that would make his piping technique any less disastrous.

Still, despite how cute Satoru looked trying to make fancy patterns with dainty nozzles, seeing your boyfriend trying to do anything remotely kitchen-y threw you off. You wouldn’t say he was banned from entering the premises, but unless he intended to grab a snack—which meant taking the whole container of sugar to the couch and eating spoonfuls of it at a time while watching over-the-top dramas—he wouldn’t be caught dead cooking up anything more complicated than a bowl of cereal.

Lighting pans on fire, somehow fucking up any sort of boxed mac-n-cheese and burning a hole into Nanami's shirt that one time you decided to host a dinner party was enough to name Gojo Satoru as an absolute menace—and not in the fun kinky way.

So, you couldn’t really help but reveal yourself to him without giving it much thought. After all, he looked like he was in dire need of aid, and you were slightly needy after dropping Megumi off at the Itadori’s for a sleepover. Imagine your surprise when rather than being met with your usually clingy boyfriend, you were faced with Gojo Satoru, the newest member of The Great British Bake-off, instead.

“What are you doing?”

If looks could kill, your funeral invites would be ready by tomorrow morning. You could read the news headlines already, Cold-blooded murder! Find out what happens when you ruin your boyfriend’s piece of cake.

“What am I doing?! I’m trying my best!” He whined, placing one of his hands on his hip.

Now that he stood up to his full height, you could appreciate the image of him more clearly. The icing covered most parts of his face, varying from pastel to vivid colours. Over his lounging clothes, he was wearing the frilly pink apron he had bought for Nanami as a joke. It was a bit big on him, his built objectively smaller than that of his friend, but the pretty pink colour matched his azure orbs, made them pop—it reminded you of that time he let Megumi and his friends do his makeup with the chalky palette Nobara had brought to play with. You would’ve relished in the memory of Gojo getting his skin irritated by the spongy eyeshadow applicator if it wasn’t for the groan of frustration ripping through his pillowy pout.

“Baking is stupid, and I hate it.” He punctuated his statement with a slight kick of his foot. As soon as you left, fussing over Megumi and repeatedly checking whether he packed his toothbrush, he had started pulling all sorts of baking utensils. Clanking bowls and measuring cups, random sized spatulas were all evenly spread out; aesthetically pleasing if you will.

How hard could it truly be? After watching you countless times dance around the kitchen, effortlessly mixing up ingredients while humming a tune, he was sure this would be just another easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy task. You would fall in love with him all over again, Shoko would probably stop smoking, and Suguru would finally agree to add his initials—maybe even a picture of his face, who knows? —to his tattoo collection; everyone around him would be astounded, clapping and cheering, all because of his impeccable culinary skills.

Right?

Wrong

Baking was harder than you, and most people on those cooking shows made it seem. It wasn't just about tossing random powdery ingredients onto a bowl. No, they had a designated order apparently, who would've thought. But alas, he managed to mix some cake batter with decent consistency and shove it in the oven without giving it much thought. Fortunately for him, making icing was even harder! The universe was definitely on his side on this one.

The half-hearted laughter he let out was painful to hear, a wet smile gracing his features. It took you less than a second to react; his silence meant he was beating himself up, and you'd rather die than let his mind mill him to a pulp.

With gentle steps, you walked around the island counter. Leaning against the sink next to him, you grabbed his sticky hand in comfort. Rubbing circles with your thumb always seemed to calm him down.

“I—” He sighed, sounding almost defeated as he looked at the mess he made. The number of times he had scraped frosting from the cake had sanded it down considerably; reusing the same frosting to the point where the crumbs had thickened the original texture. Moreover, the constant mixing could only result in a chaos of colours. He had run out of ingredients to make some more icing, so he had to make do with the shades of brownish-green, grey, and pastel blue—that somehow had managed to survive the massacre. “I was just baking a cake for Gumi,”

“I know he went over to Yuuji’s to celebrate his birthday at midnight and all that,” he refused to make eye contact with you, staring at the ceiling like the solution to his dilemma would come out of the paint-covered concrete. “But I- I just wanted him to come back home to something sweet, you know? Sing happy birthday and all that.”

Lowering his gaze towards the floor, he made it seem as if he was cleaning icing from his face, instead of wiping the tears that threatened to spill.

“He’s growing so fast and I just,” he sniffled “I’m scared he’s starting to leave us— I don’t want him to leave us behind.”

Raising his hand to your mouth, you pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles. You nuzzled yourself closer to his body, trying to eliminate as much space separating the both of you as possible.

“I think there’s a 24-hour market close by,” It felt like hours before you broke the silence. Sometimes all he needed was you, no words uttered, just sharing each other’s warmth. Sometimes he’d prefer the silence, and even so, it seemed like you always managed to sense whenever he was ready to come back to earth; face his fears and all that jazz. “They sell the pretty sparklers you both like.”

And it was after an arduous night of baking—appreciating the way you would guide his hands while whisking and pouring, patiently teaching him the basics; never mocking his mistakes, but softly giggling with him at the little mishaps, and sharing tender kisses here and there.

After opening the door, the next morning, holding the cake as Megumi made its way inside the house. Obnoxiously singing happy birthday, voice cracking in the you, as one does. Admiring the way, the sparklers lit up his pretty green eyes—that weren’t his nor yours but which, regardless of that, held speckles of your unconditional love.

After sharing what felt like the longest hug, and hearing bits and pieces of what he thought sounded like I love you, dad, thank you for being here.

After watching the way Megumi ran into your arms, whispering those same words to you—minus the word dad of course—and holding you tightly because it was also you who gave him the world.

It was after all that, that he felt the gap in his chest beginning to mend itself; the worries he had tried to bear on his own—because he refused to share such irrationalities for a while; you’d probably scold him for bottling up his feelings again—dissipating slowly.

It was inevitable. Megumi would leave you two eventually, but the love he felt for you would never extinguish; not as long as he lives.