gojo gets jealous over the male characters you like in otome games. he knows it’s childish, but isn’t he known to be childish from time to time? (others would say he’s childish and immature all the time, but gojo would beg to differ.)
he doesn’t like how you spend so much time on your phone giggling and swooning over their voice lines when you could be spending time with him- your real boyfriend. why do you need a fake boyfriend, or boyfriends, when you have him? gojo won’t say he pouts because he does not pout, but he sits behind you, his chest pressed tight to your back and his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, and peers over your shoulder to see what the big deal is about the otome games you love so much.
“i’m way better looking than that guy,” gojo pipes up, his lips brushing against the curve of your cheek. you startle, unprepared for gojo to say anything out of the blue. once you process what he’s said, a puff of amusement escapes you.
“mm, you’re okay,” you reply, feigning indifference, but you’re unable to help the smile that slips into your voice.
“you’re so mean to me, baby,” gojo laments as he squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his face into your neck. you shriek, thrashing around in his hold, when he suddenly blows a raspberry into the crease between your neck and shoulder. “tell me i’m your one and only,” gojo says before he blows another raspberry into your skin.
“n-no,” you manage to gasp out, breathless from laughter. you try and pry gojo’s arms off of you, but he doesn’t budge at all. at moments like this, you curse that your boyfriend is the so-called strongest sorcerer on earth.
“c’mon, baby. all you have to say is satoru, you’re the only boyfriend i need. these otome men cannot compare to your greatness,” gojo dramatically says, openly grinning with manic glee. he loosens his grip around you, and you think your boyfriend has granted you mercy before you feel fingers dance over your sides.
“s-satoru, stop!” you exclaim, laughing uncontrollably from the tickling. “f-fine. satoru, you’re the only— HAHA—boyfriend i need. and you’re o-okay i guess.”
“wrong,” gojo says in a sing-song manner. “you should have said ‘my otome men could never compare to my lovely wonderful satoru.’”
“t-that is definitely not what you said,” if you could, you would roll your eyes at satoru, but you’re incapable of the action at the moment. gojo’s fingers dance across the underside of your ribs, moving faster and tickling harder the more you refuse to repeat him. “F-FINE. m-my otome men could never com-compare to my stu-stupid and dumb boyfriend i love.”
the tickling suddenly ceases all at once. your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath. you twist in gojo’s hold to face him and give your boyfriend the meanest glare you can muster. his smile only deepens at the sight. “you are the most immature man i have ever met.”
gojo leans in and pecks your forehead, still smiling that big stupid grin of his that you unfortunately adore. “and yet, you still wanted to date me.”
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tōdō is actually so easily touched by the gestures you do for him that it borders on over-dramatic. you buy him a photocard of takada, and he’s on the verge of tears when you present him with it. he cradles it so gently in his big hands, making sure to be careful because it’s not only a picture of his favorite idol but a gift from his beloved. he promises to treasure it with his life, and you laugh not knowing he’s being so deadass.
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nanami’s eye starts twitching when you tell him how no one’s ever made you cum before
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i love men who spend time in the bathroom when you’re trying to bathe because they wanna be near you
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nanami in thigh garters but his thighs are about to burst out of them … the strap digging into his skin … oh ill give him the best head of his life
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