#jjk band au

[yafreecs]

JJK Band AU - Nanami

kento nanami on the beeaaattttt

#jjk art #jjk fanart #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk anime #jjk manga #nanami fanart #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #nanamin #jjk nanami #jjk band au #jjk au

[chosos-gothica]

Gimme a light?

Punk!Choso x reader (18+)

Minors (anyone under 18) and ageless blogs will be blocked. DNI.

Summary: You bartend a show night and one aloof bassist catches your eye.

Features: Oral sex (reader receives), Fem reader, vaginal penetration (reader receives), fingering, face riding, Sub!Choso if you look hard enough.

wc: ~ 2,400

A/N: I’m a bit rusty doing xreaders so I hope this is a good read lol 🖤

Songs queued

Nicotine Stain - Siouxsie and the banshees

Dumb - Nirvana

The Wolf - The Brats

Violet - Hole

The pub is suffocating on Saturday nights. Bodies uncomfortably close as most stood in drunken fervor. The sweat, the alcohol, the humidity, it was all too much. Even for an experienced bar tender such as yourself. The minute the bar area cleared out of the crowd in favor of the stage area, you decide to take a 15 minute smoke break.

You sneak off to the alley behind the establishment. Sitting on a plastic crate, You pull out a cigarette from your shorts and a lighter in kind.

Right as you lit the cheap cig, you hear the door into the bar open to your right. You expect it’s your manager coming out to scold you for breaking without notice but are surprised to see someone you’ve never met. His dark eyes glance at you while exiting the establishment, his face neutral but a hint of annoyance seeing someone else out in the alley.

He leans against the wall on the opposite side of the doorframe. He fixed his gaze forward while sipping a cocktail in a clear plastic cup.

Dressed in mostly black, his silhouette was solid besides the thick sprigs of hair tied into pig tails. A tall wall of a man, but his facial features were delicate. You couldn’t really tell if that was a birth mark or make up that cut across his face. Though the lights were dim in this area, you could tell he was weirdly pretty. Just like you can tell he was now looking straight at you.

“Problem?”

He says quietly.

��None with you.” You lift your hands

“Just never seen you before ‘s all. Small scene in this city.”

He doesn’t respond. Turning his attention back to staring at the dumpster in front of the both of you.

You glance at the red slip he held between his fingers and the cup.

“Drink voucher? You’re in one of the acts tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“New band on the flier I’m assuming?”

“Mhm”

“What instrument?”

“Bass.”

Speaking to this guy was like pulling teeth, short concise answers. It was pissing you off a little bit.

“So what are you doing out here?”

You take a long drag of your cig, watching the smoke swirl as you exhale.

He didn’t reply for a moment, long enough for you to think he wasn’t gonna answer.

“Too loud,” He grumbles before taking one last gulp of his drink. “And hot.”

You chuckle.

“Not much ventilation in there.” He once again doesn’t grace you with a reply.

He began moving towards the dumpster, tossing his cup and voucher away. He undid his updo, slowly letting his mid length hair cascade over his shoulder.

You assumed he was headed back inside once he turned, jumping when he squats directly in front of you.

“Can I bum a cig off you? I promised my brother I’d stop so I don’t have any on me.”

His voice was so smooth, sweet almost, you wouldn’t believe he was a smoker if he didn’t tell you. His long hair curtains his face. He was so close you could smell the alcohol lingering on his tongue.

He’s cute, at least in the back alley lighting. You reach into your pocket and pull out the box of cigarettes.

One last smoke remained, and if you had been a little bit pettier you would have said no.

“Take it. You said a full sentence to ask so you must really need it.”

Red blooms across his pale face at your remark. He took it slowly, slightly embarrassed by his prior attitude.

You offer your light when he sticks the cigarette between his plump lips. He leans closer as you shield the flame from the wind and burn the edge of the borrowed smoke.

Despite how intimate the lack of space between you and him is, he stays still for a moment. longer than what was necessary. His eyes scanned your face, languidly though interested. You clear your throat when you feel your personal space had been invaded for long enough.

He snaps out of his trance, whispering a curt thank you before rising to his full height.

“Names Choso.” He says looking away to his left. His face was still flushed.

“(Y/N), nice to meet you.” You stand up from the crate.

“Its probably been 15 minutes. I better get back to the bar.” You drop the cigarette filter on the ground, and step on it to make sure it was out.

You stretch your arms and head inside. “I think you’re up next, hope your band is worth listening to.”

-

30 minutes pass while you clean glasses behind the bar. Nodding along to the music and watching people shuffle and dance with the little space they have.

It’s been a while since you’ve been to a show without being at work. Reminded of your job, you busy yourself with stacking glasses and grabbing coasters off the bar while the opening band hustles off the stage. And the next one sets.

“Alright. I know what you’re all thinking ‘who are these dumbasses?’ We just moved into this shithole you call a city.”

The crowds playful jeers make your head snap up.

“But after this set you’re gonna remember The Plasma as the band who made you black out in the pit!” The lead growled into the mic. His pink hair makes him stand out, even glow, in the dark pub. Behind him is Choso, his hair pulled back up into pony tails. His bass hangs low on his body as he looked out into the crowd, with the same vacant expression.

The music started up, climbing in volume instantly.

You watch the pink headed teen thrash on stage, riling up the crowd even more than before. You laugh when someone jumps onto stage, trying to throw punches at the lead. Choso immediately steps between the two, taking off his bass and pushing the drunk heckler off the stage to be caught by the mob under them.

You take notice when he takes off his shirt, already soaking in sweat, and slinging the instrument back across his chest. The stage lights momentarily focus on his position, enhancing the glittering affect his sweat creates on his well built body. His side profile is captures by a back light, almost picture perfect the way his stray hairs cling to his forehead. You are admittedly stunned by his stage presence. You slow your cleaning to a stop, eyes following the black haired musician play so expertly. You catch his gaze for what felt like minutes. It took some time for you register that he was looking directly at you.

Boys in bands are bad luck. Though, after the way Choso looks at you, you’re willing to gamble. You weren’t as done up as some folks were in the crowd right in front of him. Even so his eyes wander, taking in your form, unknowingly darting his tongue out to wet his top lip.

“Fuck. Is he into me?” You think. It really didn’t seem like it outside, though maybe he played aloof to get your attention. You continue to entertain his gaze as he walks about stage until the end of their set. He would, of course, take his eyes off of you for a couple key moments during their performance but always return to you.

As soon as their set finished, you beckon Choso to the bar. After they drag their equipment off stage, he slips through the crowd to the barstools. Once he’s in earshot he begins to speak. “I’m so sorry for staring at you that whole time. Did I creep you out? Fuck I probably did. I’m just more comfortable playing in front of a crowd if I see someone I know-“ He stops mid-ramble when you pass him a dry towel.

“You’re sweating all over the counter, hun.”

“Ah…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You look past him when the next band on the list starts warming up. Then to your right to see your coworker bored and scrolling on their phone.

He gives you back the towel after wiping his face dry. You make sure to caress his hand as you take back the towel.

“Do you want to go somewhere a little more private, Choso?”

You say outright, hoping you read the man’s emotions correctly.

He pauses, looking to your chest then back up to your eyes.

“Yeah.” He says.

Your eyes dart to the other bartender once more before you tilt your head in the direction the bathrooms.

You lead the walk to the spot, Choso follows closely behind. You take out the keys to the employee bathroom, making sure not to fumble them a catch anyones attention. Quickly slipping Yourself and Choso through the door when it creeks open.

You turn around after locking the door, face to face with the dark haired man.

His hands hover above your hips.

“Shit. Can I touch…you?”

He looms over you but his eyes plead with the same urgency as a puppy wanting a treat.

“Yes babe you can touch me wherever.” You purr.

He immediately presses you into the tiled wall, gentle yet firm. Your lips lock in kind, you eagerly accept his tongue into your mouth. Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you grind your hips into his, pulling a sigh out of his lungs. His fingers squeeze into the fat of your hips and one of his hands slide up under your thin tank top. You shiver when his string calloused fingers reach your breasts under your lacy bralette. He squeezes and kneads your tits, needly grinding his hips into you with more force.

Your hands reach up and snap off the hair bands keeping his black locks up. With one hand tangled in his hair, the other travels to his chest.

He breaks the sloppy kiss suddenly, looking into your dazed eyes.

“Hm?”

“I wanna eat you out, baby.” He whispers.

You bite your lip, to stop yourself from straight up begging.

“Get on your knees then Choso.”

He nods silently, lowering himself.

You wiggle your shorts past your hips, kicking them off to a corner. You then become self aware of the hair trail on your abdomen once he’s on his knees.

“I haven’t shaved….or trimmed in a while.”

He looks up into your eyes after your admittance.

“All the better,” he says tugging your under wear down to your knees. “I love a good bush.”

Your face turns hot and you give a playful smack to Chosos head. He laughs a little at your sudden shyness, taking the time to look at what was right in front of him.

Your pussy is slightly puffy, damp with arousal. Choso leans forward to kiss your engorged clit. He wastes no time to start licking and sucking on the sensitive nub. Using two fingers to separate the outer folds of your cunt from your clit, which was held snug between his two digits. You groan when he flicks it with his tongue, involuntarily bucking your hips. He very lightly squeezes your clit between his fingers before releasing it and rests his left hand on your plush thigh. You whimper at the loss of pressure before he rest his mouth on your mound once again.

He nurses on it for a bit longer and relieves the suction with a small pop.

His fingers soon wander further into your labia, prodding at you entrance once reached.

You’re wet, embarrassingly sopping wet. Choso flattens his tongue to taste even more of you, licking from where his fingers met your hole to your now extremely sensitive clit. A shiver traveled slowly up your body.

You sharply inhale as one prodding finger is pushed into you with little resistance.

“God, you’re dripping onto the floor.”

You moan as he goes knuckle deep with two thick fingers. He begins to lazily pump his fingers in and out, keeping his tongue flattened on the front of your cunt. He was really fucking good at this.

You notice the hand on your thigh had slipped away. Reaching into his briefs, he pulls out his hard cock. You couldn’t see much of it from this angle. Though in comparison to his large hand in must be thicker than average.

You couldn’t think straight anyways right now, his fingers picked up speed.

“Yes-yes, right there-uuhn!” You slurred your words, feeling that familiar building up of dopamine.

“Chosoooo- I’m about to cum ah! You’re gonna make me cum!”

You couldn’t believe you were about to climax in your jobs restroom with a strangers fingers in your pussy. You whimper when the fingers suddenly left you empty. They are soon replaced by something warm and wet. Looking down you see half his face covered by your pelvis. His eyes glazed over, the motherfucker was really enjoying this.

You grasp his sweat soaked hair, lightly tugging before you began riding his face as best as you could in this position. He moans deeply as you use his face, adding to your mounting pleasure.

“Oh fuck I’m coming- hhhaaaah!” You gushed in his mouth, your cunt squeezing his tongue out. No matter, he Laps up your warm essence dribbling out of your throbbing pussy.

Your hips jerk as you come down from your climax.

“Shit man.” You sigh.

Using his hair you pull his head out from between your trembling thighs.

Chosos lower face glisten with your liquids. He licked his lips slowly, looking at you with the same dazed expression.

“You taste fucking amazing (y/n).”

You stand from your semi squatting position and leaned on the wall. Before either of you could utter another word you hear a voice from the other side.

“Choso! You in there? C’mon bro we gotta leave.”

“Fuck.” Choso spit out.

“Gimme a second Yuji!”

He quickly rose, lifting up his briefs and baggy pants.

Slipping his hard cock back into his underwear in the mean while.

“Oh god you didn’t finish, you want me to-“

“No I’ll take care of that at home, coming isn’t really that important to me anyways.” He whispered.

“But maybe you can give me some material to make that happen later tonight?” He hands you a black and red card.

“It’s our bands merch line, it’s my personal phone number though.”

He jumps over to the sink and quickly washes his face and hands.

You pull up your own underwear while watching him. Scooping up your shorts to don as well. Choso quickly slips out of the room without another word.

While you quietly wash your own hands, you hear his smooth voice.

“Why were you in the employee bathroom?”

“Cleaner.”

“Whatever you say man.”

Their voices get quieter, drowned out by the rest of the pub and dampened by the door.

A/N: Yuji is def the lead singer, noritoshi would be guitar I think, Kechizu would be a drummer and Eso would probably do sound mixing for them or something like that :P

Minors (anyone under 18) and ageless blogs will be blocked. DNI

#jjk smut #choso smut #punk!choso #jjk band au #band au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu choso #smut #nsft #choso x reader #chosos gothica: Jjk

[kyra-song]

jjk band au... them....

these three rotten children are part of Special Grade

Yuuji is the lead vocalist, Megumi’s lead guitar and Nobara is our little drummer girl

the other four members of the band are on their way ;)

#jjk #idk is this anything #jjk fanart #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanart #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #nobara kugisaki #itafushi #itafushi fanart #jjk band au #my art

[s-c-l-n]

jjk band/school or rock au where theres a third jujutsu high and thats where geto teachs and he has all his main cult kids and sukuna there in his band vs the tokyo band vs the kyoto band

each year is a different band and they have competitions consistently

#jjk #jjk band au #idk this is already an au but this is mine !!!!! different from others

[the-friendly-shadow]

My bandmates brother

Sukuna x Female Reader

No curse AU

Choso Itadori Sukuna Brother AU

Prologue (WIP)

Chapter One (WIP)

#jujutsu Kaisen #Jjk #band au #Jjk band au #sukuna x reader #no curse au #human sukuna au #itakunachoso brother au #sukita brother au #femyn #satosugu #satosugu x nanami #sukuna x femreader #angst #comfort

[hinamie]

i have so much band!au content in the pipeline my brain is Rotting but enjoy these two for now

jjk band!au

#my art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuuji #yuuji #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna #fanart #jjk fanart #jjk band!au #every time i dress sukuna i stray further from gods light. what is that. what did i do why did i do that. #the pants...the mullet mohawk..the tanktop that might as well be Off...am i cooking or committing a cardinal sin who can say #i realized that i probably couldnt give him rings bc the priss wouldnt want to scuff his guitar #which goes directly against my religion that says that any modern au sukuna has to b iced up #that being said the bracelets r probably pushing it but he needed /something/ so he can deal. #but oh my god the guitars like dont get me wrong im thrilled w how they turned out but god i wished for death #looks around accusingly whose idea was this >:c (me it was mine) #anyway i am feeding myself on this au this will not be the last u see of it :) #HARD pivot from emo yoi content oops

[chosocutegf]

band au!Choso x fem!reader

cw: smut towards the end

(my other fic about band au!Choso)

bassist!Choso who has tattoos, piercings, smokes and wears all black so anyone who sees him for the first time is immediately scared of him. He goes around not giving a fuck about anyone, and doesn’t look at anyone in the eyes, even if they are trying to have a conversation with him.

bassist!Choso who only cares about his music and his band. Anyone who sees him on the stage can say that he is really in love with what he is doing and his instrument, it’s like he gets sucked in from it anytime he takes it in his hands. He has a lot of fans who always try to get his attention, but he dismisses them the moment they approach him.

bassist!Choso that when he plays, his gaze is mostly on his bass and his head nods in time with the notes he is playing. Even when he has to sing the chorus, his gaze is distant or his eyes are closed. No one will catch him smiling at anyone, but rest assured, that whenever he is playing, a little smirk is on his face.

bassist!Choso who never looks up from his instrument and never looks at the audience, you start to assume that he is there just from the music and doesn’t really care about who is in front of him. You are mesmerised from the way his slender fingers move over the four strings, fast as lightning. So when you’re entranced watching him, he finally looks up and it feels like the world just turned upside down.

bassist!Choso who actually misses a note when he sees you for the first time in the front row; no one noticed but he did, and he can’t help but furrow his brows and immediately look away. He is angry at himself for making a mistake in that very moment, while the most beautiful girl is looking at him. On the other side, you think he was disgusted by you from his reaction, so you’re quick to look away, your smile fading.

bassist!Choso who can’t seem to forget you and is confused because now a part of his brain isn’t occupied anymore by his music and his bass, but you. He tries to ignore whatever is that he is feeling, but his eyes widen when he sees you at a local pub another day, exactly the same day he is playing with his band. He wonders if you are there to see one of his band mates.

bassist!Choso who is teased from his band members because he looks distracted and he has never been that way. He is always in his own world, listening to music or playing his bass, even in his breaks between concerts. So when they see a hint of interest on his face that isn’t for music, they understand that something happened.

bassist!Choso who notices you again in the first row for the third time and when he sees you observing his fingers instead of the main singer, he thinks you are checking the way he plays because you remember the mistake he did the first time. He is naive, and doesn’t think that you are looking at him because you’re attracted to him.

bassist!Choso who thinks about you the moment he gets off stage, wondering how can a girl be so beautiful. He freezes on his spot the moment he sees you backstage, laughing softly at what one of his bandmates said. He is even more shocked to discover that you’re a friend of them, and that’s why you are usually at the concerts. He finds out that you've been going to see them play for some time already, and he is stunned when he realizes that you have seen him play more times than he thought.

bassist!Choso who is now looking forward to the next concert because he knows you’ll be there. Everyone is shocked when they see him waving at you, and actually giving attention to someone outside his instrument.

bassist!Choso who tries to ignore his band mates teasing him about you, because they understood that something is different when it comes to you. Choso denies everything, and walks away from them just in time to hide his ears getting red.

bassist!Choso who doesn’t understand what he is feeling when he gets down the stage and sees you talking and laughing again with his band mate aka your friend. His stomach tightens while he suddenly feels insecure about himself. He stares at the two of you until you turn to him, feeling his gaze on you. He walks away before you can get to him, suddenly angry at himself for thinking that he could ever be with a girl like you. On the outside, it seems like he is trying to avoid you, his usually aloof expression changed into something like disgust.

bassist!Choso who gets home and doesn’t understand why his cock is hard. He was still angry at himself, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wishing that he was the one you were smiling at like that. He touches himself while thinking about you, your smile, your laugh and the way you looked in that little dress.

bassist!Choso who is stunned the next time you go to one of his band’s concert and sees you walking towards him shyly while smiling. He is quiet as he observes you, feeling his mind short-circuit when you look up at him with your soft eyes and realises that’s the first time you two are alone together. You notice his cheeks having a pinkish shade, not knowing that it’s because he can’t stop imagining having you under him, in less formal circumstances.

“Hi,” you say with your soft voice, smiling widely at Choso. His eyes widen and he doesn’t know how to answer you. He is lost thinking that your voice is the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. “Hey,” he mutters, blinking; his voice is low and husky, and you can’t help but recognise that there is a hint of softness in it. “So… uhm, I was wondering if one of these days… maybe, and only if you can of course, you wanted to go have a coffee… with me,” you mumble, your eyes looking around the room and careful to never meet his indifferent ones, while your voice lowers as you go on with the sentence, getting more and more insecure.

Choso’s eyes widens even more at your question, because… are you really asking him out on a date? The sweetest girl ever? He only cared about his band and bass, but in that moment he thought that you would soon get on top of all that.

bassist!Choso who you discover is actually the shyest guy on the earth, and his aloof attitude is because of it. He is actually very thoughtful and intelligent and loves to talk about his passion about music, but will also listen attentively when you talk about your things. He actually thinks that he would rather hear you talk about your life than him tell you about his music.

bassist!Choso who always teases you, loving the reactions he can get out of you. He does all those things that clearly show that he is in love with you: he ruffles your hair, squeezes your thighs, jokes with you etc… You’re both obvious of your feelings, but everyone outside understands that there is something going on between you two.

bassist!Choso who does anything to impress you and always gets so excited when he sees you in the crowd, happily cheering for him in the front row. Everyone is impressed by how he seems to be more daring, going around the stage when he can and doesn’t keep his gaze fixed on his bass anymore but rather on you.

bassist!Choso who confesses his feeling for you through a song. You see him finally smiling on the stage, and he is actually very nervous to do this in front of everyone. However, he can’t hold back anymore, so he makes sure that when he sings those words, your gazes are fixed on each other.

“Even if

you left me out here stranded

my feelings wouldn’t change a bit

You know how I feel, baby

Infinite

The love I have for you, a diamond couldn’t put a dent in it”

bassist!Choso who runs to you the moment he gets down the stage, ignoring everyone else when he knows that you’re waiting for him backstage. Your heart is beating so fast that you are scared that he might hear it when he hugs you and holds you tightly against him.

“You were really good out there,” you tease him, pulling back from his embrace. A little grin tugs at the corner of his lips and his brows rise, “yeah? Did you also like how I confessed my feelings for you?”. Your breath hitches at his confirmation, and you can swear that your heart is going to give out before a nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you talk, “especially that moment… you stole the words from my mouth”.

You’ve never seen him smile so broadly after your words, but you’re interrupted gaping when he kisses you. His band mates gasp when they see it, before screaming and cheering for you two.

bassist!Choso who is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine. From the outside, he looks like a bad guy with all his piercings and tattoos, but in reality he is just a silly guy and a nerd for music. He loves to see you in the crowd during his concerts, looking at him. But he loves even more when he finally gets you on his bed, laying naked on your back while he fucks you.

bassist!Choso who fucks you slow and nice, dragging his big cock inside you lazily, making you feel every inch of him and his veins. His swollen tip always hits your sweet spot making you let out those precious little moans that he knows he will put in a song so everyone can hear the sweet melody that you are.

bassist!Choso who teases you on purpose when he is practicing with his bass, knowing that you love when his fingers nonchalantly move on the four strings. He makes it even harder for you when he makes sure to not wear a t-shirt, so you can see his toned chest and strong arms, his muscles flexing as he moves his fingers on the instrument.

“Cho,” you whine, squirming on your seat, and feeling the waves of the bass hit your core. Your boyfriend glances up at you with a mock innocent expression, and you almost faint when he continues playing even if his gaze is on you, “what, princess?”.

You pout slightly and crawl closer to him, nuzzling against his shoulder before cupping his cheek and pecking his lips, “stop teasing me,” you murmur, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He raises his brows casually but he can’t hold back the grin that spreads on his lips, “doing what?”. You roll your eyes at his words, and you’re quick to move his hands away from his bass, putting them on your body, making sure that he gives all the attention you deserve and not to that stupid instrument.

bassist!Choso who knows how to use his fingers in the proper way. He always makes sure to make you cum on them at least twice before doing anything else. He likes to prep you for his cock, because he knows he is big and you can’t fit him if your pussy isn’t properly stretched.

bassist!Choso who loves to see you with his bass, trying to learn how to play it. He teaches you, placing your fingers the right way, his bigger ones caressing your skin. His special way to teach you is to sit behind you, his fingers playing with your sweet pussy while he guides you with his voice, clicking his tongue when you almost drop his instrument.

bassist!Choso who scares anyone but you. And he still doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, but you make the exception. He only cares about his music and his band… and you, only you.

i’m probably gonna make a part 2 because this wasn’t enough and i barely scratched the surface (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

(thanks Tyler The Creator for the lyrics)

(m.list)

#choso #jjk #choso x reader #jjk x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso fluff #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #jjk choso #choso jjk #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x chubby reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x plus size reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #.band!au choso ᯓ★ #𐙚

[celestie0]

choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown. 

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!” 

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!” 

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music. 

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic. 

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like  “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex. 

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair. 

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours. 

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage. 

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder. 

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage. 

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it. 

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants. 

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”  

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there. 

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.” 

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?” 

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex. 

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface. 

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition. 

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving. 

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.  

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot. 

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering. 

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of. 

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest. 

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in. 

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast. 

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment. 

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all. 

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again.  His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you. 

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.” 

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous. 

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough. 

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.” 

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush. 

.

.

.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out. 

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day. 

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized. 

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader smut #choso x reader angst #choso x reader fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader angst #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader fluff #choso x you #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk #jjk fanfiction #rock band au #music au #bad boy #second chance romance #love triangle #smut #fluff #angst #punk rock au #band au

[dilfhos]

THE FAN.

#!WHO GOJO SATORU & GETOU SUGURU

#!CC: threesome, reluctance if ya squint, o.sex (G&R), riding & backshots, eiffel tower, rockstar/band au, GOJO plays with your ass

wc.5.6k | KINKTOBER ‘23 | if u can, plz reblog. im trying to get more traction frankly and would love my fics to reach a wide audience fr. as always, minors plz don’t interact w/me.

NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

@scariusaquarius tysm for beta-ing, your soundboard and squeals of excitement mean a whole lot sugar hehe ♡

Are you a fan of the band EYES OF DEATH? Well they’re in town for Halloween! Ten songs! One night with Hunk Gojo as lead singer and the illustrious Suguru playing lead bass. Come down to the Shadowvale Coliseum to see them in action, you may be lucky to win backstage access!

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately.

The sound of screaming coming from (mostly) women caused a ringing in your ears. But it wasn’t much of an inconvenience because you were screaming right along with them. Your eyes zeroed in on the lead, heart stammering at the fact that you were actually here, in person before your favorite band. Your favorite idol.

Gojo Satoru.

This time you didn’t have to gush over him in the new issue of Kaisen Times magazine, or smile when you see the million posters hanging up in the walls of your bedroom. He was literally feet from you as you were blessed to have stage side seats. He was definitely sexier up close. His messy white locks whipped with every nod of his head, as his slightly sweaty face was mostly framed by stray strands of silver.

You wish you could see his eyes but they were hidden by his signature frames which didn’t make you feel too bad. You watched as his hand came down hard to deliver one final riff. The crowd went wild as did you. He rocked back on his heels, a genuine wide smile gracing his features as he scanned his fans. When he turned in your direction, you could've sworn he was looking directly at you as his gaze seemed to remain on you for a few seconds longer. While you thought it was silly, a part of you hoped he was and your heart sped up at the thought.

His smile seemed to almost widen though as he then gripped the mic.

“How about another one? Why don’t you let me hear your lovely voices one more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, nodding as the crowd, you included, began to scream again.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He turned back to his band mates, whispering to the one closest to him which you immediately recognized as Suguru. His dark and typically flowing locks were tied back into a messy bun, a few pieces slicking to the sides of his neck. He muttered something back to the other band mates and Gojo returned to the microphone, his mouth open in a wide smile,

“You ready?” He purred.

Everyone screamed yes! and as he counted off, the building was drowned once more in an electrifying riff of another one of his songs.

…

By the end of his concert, his shirt was drenched with sweat as he spent the rest of his energy jumping around on stage.

As he bid a goodbye to the crowd, you met his gaze. Or so you thought. You just knew he looked in your direction once more before whispering something to his bandmate, Suguru, who gave you a quick look over before disappearing behind the curtain.

You remained there, looking at the very spot he stood, wishing that he was still there. You clutched a rolled up paper to your chest, your grip tightening when someone bumped into you from behind.

It was silly but you had hoped you would’ve caught him before he left to sign it. Sure the image was a couple years old but it was your favorite and with his scribbled signature in the corner of it, you knew it’d finally be perfect.

But what you also knew was how wild his concerts ended. Groupies typically tried to sneak their way back only to be stopped by heightened security. You’ve heard rumors of some succeeding and bragging that Gojo and the band definitely made their nights.

With a sigh, you turned, watching the crowd slowly grow smaller as sweaty and exhausted bodies trickled out the exits. A headache was forming and even though you didn’t get your autograph, you were still content with seeing your favorite rock idol perform. But now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Maybe encounter him in your dreams as you’d done in the past.

You were trudging along with the crowd when you heard a low, ‘psst’.

You wouldn’t have paid much attention to it if it had only happened once. But when it was heard again, this time a bit more persistent, you whipped your head around only to be met with nameless faces of the crowd.

But then you heard, “Here.”

Off to the side was a man in a black leather jacket with a cap on his head. You wanted to ignore him and keep following the crowd to the exits but something about his demeanor seemed familiar. You hesitantly broke away from the horde and ducked off to the side, accidentally tripping into his chest.

“Careful darlin’” You gasped softly at his voice, recognizing it to sound like…

The man pulled you further onto the side wing, and away from the crowd until reaching a corridor. He pulled his hat back, allowing raven locks to fall around his face.

“M-Mister Suguru?”

“Getou,”He glanced down at your arms crossed over your chest, holding something rolled. He glanced back up at your face which was lit up almost innocently at the fact that you were standing in front of a member of your favorite band. He smirked. How cute.

“Poster?” He asked, turning on his heels sharply. He didn’t give a warning or any explanation, he just began walking down the hallway, silently expecting you to follow. You stuttered before your feet moved, trying to catch up to his brisk pace.

“U-Uh yeah...I um…I wanted Gojo’s autograph.”

“And not mine?” He turned his head, a smile playing loosely at his lips. His gaze made you avert yours as your face swarmed with heat. You were mainly focused on the fact that you were actually inches from him, following him and talking to him. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru sure, but Getou Suguru was just as great a musician. And an even sexier man.

You passed by a few other band members and technician crew and a part of you felt a bit nervous.

“A-Are you sure I should be back here?” You asked him after a moment of silence. He only shoved his hands into his pocket without acknowledging your question as he continued to make his way down the darkening hallway. Something about this felt a bit off but you didn’t give into your trepidation. Instead you continued to trudge nervously behind him. Still, you placed your hand into your coat pocket to feel for your phone.

After another moment or so, he rounded a corner until stopping in front of the door at the end of the hall. From behind him, you could see the name, GOJO SATORU & EYES OF DEATH ☆ in bold, white script, centered in the middle of a large star. Your stomach flipped as you read his name over and over again. Was this actually real?

“You want to meet him right?” He could practically hear you nodding excitedly before sighing. A soft rap from a knuckles later and you heard Gojo’s voice from the other end asking who it was.

“Getou,” Was what he responded with before turning the door knob. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter, and you did so, your eyes remaining on your boot clad feet. After hearing the door shut behind you however, the sound sealing you into your fate, you looked up.

The first thing you noticed was the man sitting across the room, cross-legged on the floor. In his arms was a guitar, not the bass he rocked to during the concert. Slender fingers strummed against the strings, the notes melancholic and unfamiliar. The tune carried throughout the space accompanying the soft humming you heard from him.

Gojo glanced up only briefly, a smirk on his features as you nervously made your way further into the large dressing room. He let out a few more notes, this time save for his humming.

“Erm…” You glanced back toward Suguru. What were you supposed to do? Or say? Your mind ran a mile a minute contemplating what your next choice of words would be. You couldn’t believe that you were here standing in the very dressing room of your rock idol, the Gojo Satoru and you didn't want to screw up your first impression with something stupid.

You heard shuffling from in front of you and turned to see that he was standing. Placing the guitar against the wall, he then stretched, the position drawing up his t-shirt in the process. You couldn’t keep your eyes from falling to the distinctive toning of his waist and abdomen as they flashed before you. After you heard a chuckle, you looked away, hoping that he didn’t catch your staring.

“You a fan?” His voice was like velvet, soft and alluring and even more sexier than it was when he was singing on stage. A wide smile followed his question, drawing your attention to the dazzling rows of pearly whites. A few seconds later is when you collected yourself, eyes roaming back up to his that were hidden behind his shades.

“Y-Yeah,” You start carefully, heart strumming wildly in your chest.

“A-A big fan actually! I’ve been a fan for years and have come to every single concert.” Okay, so maybe you didn’t need to disclose that last part. Gojo only smiled warmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your favorite track?” He leaned down in front of the vanity, inspecting something on his face. You took a moment to mentally dig through what you knew of his discography. He had plenty of amazing songs, all of which touched you one way or another.

“I would have to say...Blindfolds,” He let out a surprised noise as he turned to look at you. He was quite surprised by your response. He felt that track wasn’t his best after it was published and honestly, paid no further worry about it.

He expected you to favorite one of his more popular tracks, one of which he always heard his fans request that he sing.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you felt heat prickling at your skin.

“I-I just really like the way it speaks to me. And your use of the clever metaphors within the lyrics give it a much greater meaning than what it was meant to be. And even though it was made clear that the song was about everyone in a way, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not…” He cocked his head, hidden, blue eyes glinting as he nodded for you to go on.

“W-Whether or not if it was really about you.” Silence enveloped the space and every second you remained under it, nervousness crept in bit by bit. Perhaps you said too much. Here was one of the top rock stars standing in front of you, listening as you picked apart one of his songs.

“I-I’m sorry if I over-” He interrupted you with laughter. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, but genuine. And coming from him, it was music to your heated ears. He moved toward you, his sudden movement causing you to stagger back some.

“Look kid, I appreciate your dedication but I think you’re reading too much into it,” He gave a small friendly ruffle to the top of your head, and you bit back a squeal. He touched you.

“She’s real cute,” He remarked behind you, toward the other man, who you honestly forgot was even still here.

“I knew you’d think so. But how about we move things along? The manager has been calling my phone like crazy wondering where you’ve run off to this time.”

“Right,” He turned back towards you, a toothy grin present on his features. His eyes then ventured down to what you were still cradling in your arms.

“What’s this?” He pointed. You glanced down at the rolled poster, your face warming immediately.

“I had wanted an autograph,” You stuttered, voice barely audible.

“S‘at so?” You nodded. He held his hand out and you hesitantly placed it. You watched as he unrolled it and the way his brows shut up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” You were quick to question, craning your neck to what he was seeing. Oh God, did you spill something on it? Did you accidentally grab the wrong poster from your wall? Like the one with old childish writing on it with, My husband! If that was the case then you weren’t sure what you’d-

“Just surprised is all. This was actually my favorite photoshoot. Guru, you remember that one?” He turned the poster around so his friend could see. Suguru chuckled at the sight, a part of him thinking that it was only his favorite because he ended up seducing the photographer. Gojo turned, moving back to his vanity. From the plethora of makeup brushes, his fingers closed around a dark sharpie. You couldn’t see what he was scribbling as you craned your neck, but it sounded like more than just his name. With a smile, he recapped the marker and held the poster out as if to admire his penmanship and rolled it back up.

He then held it out to you and right when you were about to grab it, he pulled it away.

“You know, you’re real cute,” He muttered, a finger reaching under your chin. “And you’re my biggest fan, you said?”

He was so close, so much that you could smell the subtleness of mint and beer. You were immediately drawn in, your eyes fluttering down to the sight of his kissable lips, which were parted slightly. He nudged your chin up to refocus your attention. What was the question again?

“Y-Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He teased.

“Yes, I’m your biggest fan.” You whisper. Sitting down your rolled poster, he took off his shades, revealing a pair of lustfully blown blue eyes. Brighter than any lake during sunrise. You could get lost in them forever and it was no longer a surprise why he wore his shades all the time.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his heavy gaze, which was just as well because before you could register anything, his lips were on yours, soft and tentative. It took you a second before you began to move your lips in sync with his.

He groaned against your mouth, deepening the exchange with a suggestive swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip. Parting your lips, his tongue shoved through, wild as it thrashed against your own.

Gojo explored your mouth, taking in the way you practically melted against him. He began to walk you backwards until your knees met the back of the couch. He pulled away to watch you stumble onto its surface, panting and flustered from the kiss.

He straightened to shrug out his coat before leaning back down to recapture your lips in another heated embrace. His hands trailed down your body, paying attention to where to press and grope that caused you to whimper. He loved the sound. The sweet, sweet gasps of women beneath his touch could top any riff he played.

Eventually, his lips moved away to press open mouth kisses to the side of your jaw and neck, every now and then sucking marks into your skin. His hand pushed under your shirt, dragging the garment oup in the process until he broke away to pull it off you.

“You’re so fucking hot babe,” He muttered, cerulean eyes trailed over your body, over the hot and bothered state you were in. Gojo’s hands smoothed over your neck, trailing down to your bra-covered breasts, until stopping at the hem of your skirt. You nodded before he shoved them up your waist, hips lifting up slightly for him push them up further until it was bunched around your tummy to reveal your cute panties. He looked down, grinning at the sight of the cotton material pressed snugly against your crotch.

“Cute,” He murmured. Instinctively, you tried closing your legs, bashful at his heavy gaze and comment but he shifted down until he was on his knees, in between them.

“No need to be shy,” His voice was so compelling; you slowly relaxed, your eyes never leaving his as Gojo’s fingers curled into the waistband of your panties. Your legs tightened against each other but with an almost warning glance cast upward from his eyes, they relaxed and he proceeded to slide them down with more ease.

“That’s it. So fucking beautiful…” He tugged them against your ankles, before they were placed on the small coffee table. He moved his eyes down to the sight in between your legs, inspecting the glisten coating your puffy lips.

Seconds later, you arched your back at the sensation of his hot tongue pressing flat against your slit, as he dragged the surface of it up and down in slow and deliberate movements. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he delved in deeper, maneuvering the appendage past your slick folds and into your hole, flicking and dipping between your plush walls. His fingers then replace his tongue, curling and stretching against your insides. His lips moved to your clit where he suckled and nipped gently, drawing out a unintentionally loud moan from you.

His fingers sped up, creating a wet squelch with every thrust into your cunt. Gasping, your fingers dug into the material of the couch as you found yourself getting lost in the pleasure he created.

Suguru, seeming to have come from nowhere, then moved beside you, gripping your chin to lift your head up in his direction. Despite your hesitance, he managed to press his lips against yours roughly. After a moment you began to give in, allowing his feverish tongue to slip past your lips and into your mouth, the exchange heated between lips and teeth. He grew harder in his pants to the feel of your lips and at the sound of his friend slurping away at your cunt.

A hand crept down to your clit, taking the place of Gojo’s fingers as he began to press tight circles against the area. Your hips bucked off of the couch and against Gojo’s face, smothering him against your pussy. He released a prolonged groan at the sight of the exchange happening between you and the two men.

Pulling away, the male licked away a trail of saliva from your lips before dipping a bit lower to lick and suck against your neck.

“Suguru,” You whimpered.

“Getou,” He corrected against your skin, trailing his lips down to your breasts. His calloused hands roughly kneaded each mound. His teeth teased at your nipples, grinding gently on the hardening buds before tugging softly to release with a soft pop. Just as he pulled away, a ringing sounded throughout the space.

“Dammit,” He muttered, bringing out his phone. Gojo pulled away from your pussy, his mouth soaked in your juices as he looked up at the brunette.

‘Manager’ He mouthed, moving towards the door.

“What? Yes…” The door shut behind him, leaving you and the lead singer alone in the dressing room.

He stood, pulling off his shirt, your eyes immediately dropping to his skin. You watched with rapt focus as he then plopped down a foot or so away from you.

“Come over here,” He instructed, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. You moved closer to him, your pussy clenching in need.

Slender fingers wrapped against the nape of your neck pulling you closer toward him. His lips smashed against yours, as he wasted no time in shoving his tongue past your lips. A moan was muffled from your mouth as his grip tightened in your hair to pull you closer, the taste of your essence melting on your tongue.

He pulled away to give another soft tug at your roots, urging your head up at an angle. His lips lowered to bite and suckle marks into your skin, partly in hope to cover his friend’s. When he pulled away, his eyelids were heavy over his lust filled eyes as they ran over your face and down your body.

“You’re still my biggest fan?” A few beats passed before you nodded, eliciting a soft smile to form on his face. He then moved to undo his belt, shoving his dark jeans down to reveal his dark boxers. Through the material, you could see that he was very much excited.

“Show me then.” He urged, shifting into a more lax position with his legs spread wide open.

You swallowed thickly before partially positioning yourself over his lap, level with the prominent bulge. Your eyes the subtle trail of white that lined his abdomen and disappeared into his boxers.

With shaky hands, you moved to curl your fingers around the rim of them and pulled them down enough for his thick cock to spring free, hard and long as it kissed his abdomen. You could then feel his hand pressed up against the back of your head, urging you down toward his dick.

“Good. Now open your mouth.” He cooed. You did so, closing your eyes at what was to come.

“Wider,” He muttered, heatedly. It took a bit of effort as you felt the warmth of his cock moving past your lips. Your head lowered until the heaviness of his cock pressed against your tongue.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighed, hips hitching against your mouth. His dick was thick on your tongue and you could taste more and more saltiness melting on your tastebuds.

“Fuck, your teeth babe...Watch your teeth.” He groaned, nails digging into your scalp. You sputtered around his shaft, sending spittles of drool to drip from the corners of your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch as he continued to urge your head down and up against his cock. In the midst of it all, you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing.

“I see you’ve gotten started already,” Suguru’s low hum broke the sound of your unadulterated slurping. You opened your eyes to see the dark pair of shoes a few feet away, unmoving.

“The—fuck—The manager?” Gojo asked, almost breathlessly.

“I got’er off our backs for at least an hour. Told her you wanted to rest.”

“Good. That bitch needs to learn patience anyway,” You released an unintentional moan at his harsh words, finding them to be almost uncharacteristic for the male. Your eyes closed again as you tried to focus on the task at hand as Gojo’s eyes narrowed, staring down at the sight below.

He then connected his gaze with his friend before a wide grin stretched across his face.

“She’s real good. Damn, it feels amazing.” Stomach fluttering, you moved your mouth down lower, taking another inch as you sucked in your cheeks to provide more of a suction. The change in your movements took the male by surprise because he released a strangled groan, in the process, shoving you down further, making you gag and choke around his girth. Sweat beaded along Gojo’s skin as you continued to suck him off, white strands of his hair sticking against the sides of his face.

From behind you, the feeling of the couch sinking with more weight didn’t go unnoticed. Seconds later you felt a warm hand brushing against your ass, running soothing circles against the flesh.

Suguru’s hands moved to creep to your waist, pulling away at the waistband of your skirt which was bunched around the area. You were now completely bare before both men and couldn’t help the pathetic sounding whimper that arose at the notion.

“What a good little fan. You know, you’re really doin’ me a service,” Satoru chuckled. In his words, you felt a sudden surge of validation course through you. The way he spoke to you caused a fluttering in your tummy.

At the end of the day it seemed like you just wanted to please him, your idol. When he said things about how good you were making him feel, well it caused something else to stir within you, flourishing before you could have the time to force it back.

Suguru noticed the way your thighs clenched together but it was different this time. His fingers sought out your warmth and was happy to find you practically dripping.

“I think she’s loving it,” You heard him purr as he continued to run his digits along your slit. You didn’t deny it but you wished that you hadn’t looked up into Gojo’s eyes.

He groaned at the look you gave him through your lashes. As much as he wanted this moment to last longer, he knew he needed to pull away before he busted in your mouth. He needed to save himself for the main event and that was having you crying and cumming all over his cock as he fucked you. You felt a tug on your hair as you were pulled away.

“Stand up.” You rose shakily to your feet, watching as Gojo shoved his boxers away completely as Suguru was next to you, discarding his own clothing wordlessly. Gojo shifted back onto the couch, a knee pressed onto one of the cushions and his other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Here.” Without further protest, you moved in front of him on your hands and knees, your pussy aching for attention. Which you knew he was happy to give as you felt the swollen head of his cock teasing against your folds. His breath fanned your ear from behind as he continued to slick his cock between your lips.

You’re so wet, providing his still glistening cock with enough lubrication to push through with little resistance. You groaned at the stretch, nails digging crescents into your palm. He inched his way in, slow and deliberate for every vein to drag pleasurably against your walls. His grip on your hips tightened once he was fully seated, his pelvis flush against your plush ass.

He took a moment to gather himself before pulling out partly and thrusting in once more, ripping out a strangled cry from your throat. Tears brimmed your outer vision as he then thrusted back in, harsh and more rougher than before. His knee buckled a bit in the act causing him to lean against you as he found his ground once more.

“Fuck!” He gritted as his cock throbbed within your tightness. After a few more experimental strokes, he found his rhythm, as ironic as it seemed for the guy. He continued to grunt as his pelvis continued to slam against your ass, his cock plunging deep into your pussy. Your head lolled forward, your noises becoming louder as pleasure surged through your body.

You then feel fingers entangling in your roots as your head was tilted upwards to meet the dark eyes of Suguru. He was mere inches from you, his hand fisting languidly at his cock. His thumb swiped the bead of arousal that accumulated at the slit and you couldn’t keep yourself from licking your lips at the bothered state he seemed to be in.

“Do me a favor,” Gojo huffed from behind. Without further instruction, your mouth opened and Suguru moved forward, his cock breaching your lips to rest heavy on your tongue. You tried to work it along the length of his shaft as you bobbed your head along but with the rate of Gojo’s thrusts against you, it was a bit difficult.

Suguru noticed this and adjusted his body so that he also had a knee braced against the cushion. His hands moved to the sides of your head, stilling you as his hips surged forward in shallow movements.

“That’s it darlin,” He said softly, his eyes rolling slightly. “Be a good little fan and take it nice and deep.”

After trying to keep up some more, you eventually stilled completely— slack jawed, tongue lolled out, allowing the male to use your mouth as he pleased. Drool seeped down in thick strands at the corners as he continued to thrust into your wet hole, inching himself deeper and deeper.

You suddenly gag at the feel of a hand striking against your ass. Gojo watched as you arched your back at the sting it brought, a dark grin gracing his features as you tightened around him.

“Fuck...You like that?” Another blow was delivered as another wanton moan escaped you. His hands gripped both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart for a much clearer view of his slickened cock disappearing into your needy cunt. He eyed your tight, winking hole above that and ran his thumb along the rim, taking in the way your body practically rippled in excitement from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“I think you may be my favorite, love,” He mumbled more to himself. But you caught it and felt a new sense of pride in his words. You strained your ears for the way he sucked in his breath at your clenching walls until he leant down, hard chest pressed flush against your back.

“You like that? Being called my favorite?” You tried to nod your head the best you could with your mouth full.

“How about I bring you back after all my shows. You’ll be our little stress reliever, my little plaything I can use as I want. Fuck, I can tell you’re...Mmm, keen to the idea,” His hands pressed against your ass, spreading them apart once more as he thrusted in deeper inside of you.

You choked, pulling away from Suguru’s cock, mewling and completely overwhelmed with nothing but lust.

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately. At his purring words, you shuddered and tightened, lowering your head to release a choked cry. Your orgasm came sudden and intense, completely overtaking your senses as your legs felt like pudding.

Gojo chuckled breathlessly, taking note of how sensitive you were to his words. He paused briefly to let you ride out your release until he pulled out. Giving a nod to his friend, he gave your ass a final smack, watching your skin ripple upon contact.

Without giving much time to catch your breath, you felt fingers in your hair, pulling your head up until your eyes met those dark pair.

“Get up.” Suguru mumbled. You shakily rose to your feet, your legs buckling seconds after. Thankfully, Gojo caught you with a tight grip on your arm, and an amused smile stretching across his face.

Suguru settled back against the couch, his hand running along his slick cock. He gestured at you with a spin of his finger and you turned around before feeling his hands on your hips to pull you flush against his body.

He positioned your body above his lap, his hands supporting you with the grip on your hips as your feet were planted on either side of his thighs. You leaned back against his chest, shuddering at the feel of his cock teasing your pussy. He pressed his lips against your shoulders feverishly as you were then lowered.

You mewled as he breached your entrance, stretching you with his girth. Suguru groaned as he took a moment basking in the feel of your fluttering walls throbbing around him. You began to sink down onto him, with little guidance of his hands, your moans growing in pitch.

“How is she?”

“So...tight and hot,” Suguru groaned, nails digging into the meat of your thighs as his heated gaze met Gojo’s. He directed your attention to the space in front of you with his hand stroking his dick.

Knowing what he wanted without further instructions, you wiggled forward to take his cock into your hot mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks tight. His fingers grasped at your sweaty roots, tightening when you bobbed your head lower until your nose was nearly touching his pelvic bone.

Behind you, Suguru was beginning to lose his composure, his hips snapping up hastily against your ass, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. You moaned aloud, the noise being muffled by the press of Gojo’s cock down your throat. You were drowning in your pleasure as you were being pushed closer and closer to unraveling.

“Such a good little fan…” You squeal at his words the same time Suguru delivers a deep thrust into your cunt. Your eyes clenched shut as that coil within you snapped, sending your body aflame with heat and pleasure. He growled at your fluttering cunt, his hips stuttering as he approached his own high. You were nudged off of him before you felt the heat of his cum splattering against your ass.

“A-Ah…Fuck!” At the sight of this, Gojo was at his own limit, his hands shaky as he held your head down against him, the entirety of his cock in your hot mouth. He gave a few shallow thrusts until he stilled and you felt the spurt of warmth hitting the back of your throat. He held you there a couple seconds later as he rode out his high, making you swallow his cum.

When he shakily pulled away, you coughed as whatever you didn’t go down, dripped onto your chin and chest. You were a mess, but honestly, Gojo couldn’t find anything more beautiful.

He brushed his thumb over your sweaty cheek before he straightened. You shifted until you were next to Suguru, who pulled you against his side. Gojo returned with your rolled poster in hand and two beers in the other.

“How ‘bout you stay for a bit longer hm? You can tell the manager we’ll be a while for the moment.” You took your poster and unrolled it, eyes zeroing on the bottom corner which, in his neat script read, To My Biggest Fan, GOJO ☆

Beneath it was a phone number and you felt your face warmed. Looking up, you saw that he was holding out the beer to you and you took it.

Suguru beside you had a hand running teasing against your slick thighs as Gojo couldn’t keep his eyes off you as more and more of your beer disappeared.

You were blissfully aware of your senses easing slightly as you started to come to the conclusion that this was the best concert you’d gone to.

@dilfhos. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

#satoru gojo x reader #suguru getou x reader #gojo #getou #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk getou #jjk fanfic #band au #[ output—☆ ] #posting early🫡 #oh god i hope this doesn’t sound too 1D-ish😭😭😂 #i am thankful for the likes!!!! #but for the love of god reblog

[aiieera]

Cupid’s Chokehold‼️

Is it possible to never even interact with someone who’s been friends with your entire friend group since high school? apparently. But never say never.

no curse au; band member!inumaki x musician/twitch streamer!yn

so many ideas for this series hopefully i’ll be able to get to them all :D

Profiles || yn’s group | 2etherial| | extras | posts

chp. 1 - From The Start

chp. 2 - December

chp. 3 - Tek It

chp. 4 - Misty

chp. 5 - Rythm of the Rain

chp. 6 -

chp. 7 -

chp. 8 -

best viewed in dark mode (or any mode but default or rave tbh)

dividers sourced from pinterest

#first smau how we feeling? #best viewed in dark mode #no curse au #band au #youtuber au #streamer au #bunch of concepts #reader is f! btw #cc! #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smau #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #inumaki x yn #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki smau #inumaki smau #itadori x reader #megumi x reader #nobara x reader #maki x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #haikyuu!!

[justjams7787]

Mistki suguru- mostly cuz her music is literally him and i wanted to draw him in a dress. Sue me.

#jjk fanart #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #mistki #band au #modern au #mistki au #bassist #bassist geto #geto fanart #jujutsu geto #hes so babygirl #geto in a dress

[yafreecs]

JJK Band AU - Shoko

Shoko Ieiri. Bass guitar. Backing vocals.

#jjk art #jjk fanart #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk anime #jjk manga #ieiri shoko #shokoyuki #shoko #shoko fanart #jjk shoko #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jjk band au #jjk au

[tojiluv]

EYES DON’T LIE — choso kamo [characters]

jujutsu kaisen AU — best friend's older brother x famous boy band

JUJUTSU UNIVERSITY STUDENTS

you as Y/N L/N — twenty-three

YUJI ITADORI — twenty-two

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — twenty-three

NOBARA KUGISAKI — twenty-three

+ other characters

MEET THE BAND "HALLOW DOMAIN"

CHOSO KAMO — electric guitar • twenty-seven

SATORU GOJO — main vocalist • twenty-eight

SUGURU GETO — bass guitar • twenty-eight

KENTO NANAMI — keyboard • twenty-seven

KINJI HAKARI — drums • twenty-six

+ other characters!

⇽ eyes don't lie | chapter one ⇾

✎ available on wattpad — babyatsumu

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

#🔮 oryluv #❥ — ❝ tojiluv ❞ #❥ — ❝ tojiluv ❞ eyes don’t lie #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #hallow domain #best friends brother #boy band au #jjk au #alternate universe #wattpad #secret relationship #satoru gojo #geto suguru #kento nanami #kinji hakari #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #toji fushiguro #maki zenin

[dellalyra]

Figure You Out 𓇊 Choso Kamo x Reader

Band AU!Choso 𓇊 friends to lovers 𓇊 7k

CW: smut, lots of it, filthy, swearing, fluff, p-in-v sex, fem reader, pining, mentions of alcohol, oral f!receiving, creampie, possessive choso, acc really sweet

A/N: My first AU! Also my first Choso writing! Based off and song included is Figure You Out by Vóila - I don’t own the song or anything I just love it and it gave me brainrot for this. Tonssss of requests coming up for family formations so stay tuned and also always if ur under 18 go away

When he met you, aged 5 – you were a ball of sunshine. A radiant angel that oozed love and warmth from every pore. The moment you sat beside him in the schoolyard, both too shy to join the other groups playing on your first day and offered him an animal cracker with nothing but a shy smile – he thinks it was then.

He’s pretty sure, because he can’t think of a moment since then that he hasn’t been hopelessly in love with you. You stayed glued to each other for the next 15 years, you practically moved in when his grandpa died – leaving him to care for a 10-year-old Yuuji alone – hell, you’d helped him forge the guardianship documents since he was only 15 himself.

Every teenage romance, every test, every class, your first kiss with the guy from your history class, his first kiss with the girl from his music class - you’d dealt with everything side by side.

It wasn’t your typical unreciprocated love though, not like he thought.

You pined for him equally. Every girl that passed his way, every hardship with raising Yuuji, every empty gig - you’d been there. Hell, you’d sat beside him as he got the tattoo on the bridge of his nose and applied ointment every day after to help the healing.

You remember being terrified on your first day of school. All of the other kids seemed bigger, louder, more frightening. Then you saw a boy sitting on the bench, legs hanging off with his dark, shaggy hair falling over his face. You decided to listen to your mom,

“I know it’s hard baby, but even if you can make one friend today - you’re doing amazing.”

So, you chose him.

You sat beside him quietly, thinking of what you’d want as an offer of friendship – something yummy.

So, you popped open your transformers lunchbox and silently tapped him on the shoulder, smiling – and offered him an animal cracker.

He had looked up at you, and your 5-year-old mind had never seen eyes so dark – eyes which soon crinkled in a gentle smile and a soft little ‘thank you.’

You think it was then.

That must have been the moment, because a day hasn’t passed since that you haven’t been in love with him.

If an omniscient outsider had been looking in on you both, they’d have seen identical trains of thought. Around 13, all of ‘those’ thoughts began. Yours always seemed to encompass dark eyes and dark hair and gentle hands. His always seemed to feature a sunshine smile, H/C glinting in the lamplight of his room and your soft, rose scented skin.

Not that either of you would say anything.

Things only got worse from there.

When you were about 14, you both realised you were in love with the other. But how could you ruin 9 years of friendship for something as silly as love?

At 16, you both realised that love wasn’t silly. Not when you worked in tandem to get you, him and Yuuji ready for school. Not when he smoked his first joint and got the munchies but only for your cookies. Not when he held back your hair when you got drunk and vomited for the first time. But how could you ruin a friendship like that, at the risk of losing the other.

So, nobody said anything.

Everyone knew.

Yuuji even knew, and he’s only 15 now.

At 18, after graduation, Choso’s big brain got him an internship at a lab, flexible hours so he could still care for his brother but decent pay. You took over your family's florist, the only think you ever wanted to do. Around that time, Choso’s true passion took flight too. His band, Death Paintings, began to book some small local shows. His songs, along with his band mates Eso and Chez – had started to try write some songs too, along with the alt rock covers the usually played.

Then, at 19 – you met him. Geto Suguru. Tall, dark and handsome (not that you had a type). You liked him, he liked you – you started dating. He was charming, smooth as fuck, fun to be around and smart.

Choso didn’t mind Geto a huge amount. He wasn’t a terrible guy, didn’t get pissy about your best friend being a guy like other guys had (probably because he and his best friend, Gojo, had a preternatural kind of ‘friendship’). He was pretty chill, nice to you. You didn’t laugh as much around him, but that was okay, he’d fill in the gaps. He hadn’t stayed completely celibate either, he’d dated a few people – one girl Yuki who was really cool and you ended up staying in contact with, but she left to travel the world with a parting message for Choso to tell you he loved you – fuck, she’d kick his ass if she knew he was still being a wuss. He’d hooked up with some people after some gigs too, frequently on nights you went home with a date too.

He remembers you rang him one night, saying Geto was taking you away for the weekend – he said that was awesome, and questioned why you felt panicked.

“Yeah, it’s great. But Cho, the Airbnb - it’s…” You flustered down the line.

“It’s what?” He replied, smirking at the sounds of you fighting to shut your suitcase in the background.

“It’s on the goddamn 50th floor of a skyscraper with panoramic views of the goddamn fucking city.” You huffed.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit!”

“Ya tell him?” He asked, flicking the pencil across the desk from where he’d been hitting down lyric ideas.

“And say what? ‘Oh, hello Geto thank you for this surprise trip to a ridiculously expensive penthouse for the weekend – sadly, you gotta shove your plans in the fucking trash because I’m terrified of heights, bye!’”

“Maybe word it differently, but yeah, that’s the gist.”

I’d never forget shit like that, he thinks.

Stop being a pick-me, Jesus Christ Choso. He also thinks.

“Right, we’ll – I gotta go psych myself up to spend 2 days sleeping in a collapse waiting to happen. Love ya, Cho.”

I love you too.

Fuck, he should just say it. Maybe it wouldn’t go as bad as he thinks.

But he never does. He just stays quiet. He won’t lose you, he’ll take you however he can have you in his life.

He brought you on a date one weekend too – you told him about it over ramen on Sunday night, a picnic in a cute park where you and Choso had tried tandem biking when you were younger – but Geto had driven you there in his Benz. Flashing wealth wouldn’t steal a heart like yours. He remembers the glow on your face as you both failed miserable at the biking for about an hour until you both got the hang of it – he swears your giggles and peals of laughter that day has to be the sound you hear when you get to heaven.

He introduced you to some new people, who you were going for drinks with one Friday night too – you didn’t really want to go, but Geto seemed to really want you to meet them. They were successful people, he thought you could get contacts to expand your floristry business to an international level by hanging around them. You told Choso you weren’t going to do that over your dead body, your shop was yours. It was quiet, it was peaceful, it was a family business. It did pretty well financially, making enough to make you pretty comfortable for a girl in her early twenties – but you worked hard, and you were damn good at your job.

“Then why are you going?” He shrugged as you watched him pluck at the strings of his guitar aimlessly.

“Geto seems excited. Gotta hang out with your man’s friends, right?”

His friends love you. They plead with him daily to confess to you. They actually already have a scrapbook on how they want to split best man duties at the wedding.

He was unloading a delivery of flowers one day into your shop with you, he had a free day and offered to help you out with some stuff around the place. You immediately jumped at the chance to spend time with him, seeing him – your favourite person – there, in your favourite place. The boy you loved helping you run the life you loved – shit, you thought, I’m dating Suguru, I can’t say shit like that anymore. You have to get over him. It was hot that day, your breezy light blue sundress even feeling too hot, so Choso was boiling in his black cargo pants and black T-shirt and was completely unaided by the weight of the buckets of fresh cut flowers he was carting back and forth. He paused for a moment in the back room of your store as you began to organise the delivery. Chugging his water, you noticed a bead of condensation running down the slope of his throat.

I wanna lick it off. Shut the fuck up, inner Y/N.

It was like having an angel and a devil on your shoulders.

But Choso only made it worse.

The heat was obviously too much in his all black ensemble – and so he could continue comfortably, he pulled his black T-shirt over his head by the back of the neck and left it on the counter.

Thank heavens to anyone who was listening – that he didn’t spare a glance at you.

You eyes widened and jaw fell as the sight before you. Muscled, thick arms and broad shoulders – scattered with tattoos, including the one on his bicep of a small daisy that you drew – fell into a chiselled chest, and abs that would make Adonis weep for their beauty. The sweat made his pale skin glisten and all you wanted in that moment was to feel his solid planes up against your skin – feel his heat seeping into you, into every single crevice. Your eyes flicked up, and the action of removing his shirt had caused some of the hair from his twin buns atop his head to fall loose – they fell and framed his face, drawing focus to the eyes you fell in love with. You didn’t really need the help today, you just needed to see him. To be near him, to hear his voice and see his smile. He’s so perfect, you think, you’d never met someone with a heart as big as Choso.

You heard a cough behind you, and you spun around.

“Oh my god! Suguru! I thought you were working today!” You hoped he didn’t notice your ogling, as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Suguru really was gorgeous, like model beautiful. You’re lucky to have him, you repeat to yourself, and it’s true but he’s not - don’t finish that thought.

“Hi baby, I am. I’m just on my lunch break but I had a surprise for you I wanted to drop off.” He says as he kisses your cheek and hands you an envelope, then notices Choso.

“Hey Choso, how you doing, man? How was your show last weekend?” He asks him.

Stop being such a good guy and let me hate you.

“Hey man, yeah it was a good turnout – got a couple more coming up soon so come along if you get a chance.”

Why am I inviting him? Shut up, Choso.

Their conversation is interrupted by your gasp.

“Suguru! Wow! This, these must have been really hard to get, thank you so much – I can’t wait to go with you.” You smile, but Choso can see it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s no problem, you said you like him when I was playing him in the car a while back, so I got us front row.” He said, and Choso quietly excused himself, not before sneaking a peak at the concert tickets in your hand.

Your favourite artist was playing next month one city over, how did he not get you tickets for that instead? I’m on six waiting lists for them.

When he gets home that night - he’s pent up. He’s not angry, or frustrated. He’s not sad or resigned. Maybe he is, maybe he’s all of those things. He’s just feeling so fucking much right now that after saying goodnight to his brother and his boyfriend, Megumi he makes his wait into his makeshift studio in the back of the house.

The second he sits down, and pen meets paper, the words fall out like a fucking tsunami. After the words, come the notes. After the notes, comes the riff and it snowballs. Soon enough, he’s got a whole fucking song on his hands.

The next day, he rings Eso and Chez and they come running over to listen to what he’s come up with.

When he plays it for them, jaws fall slack.

“Holy fuck bro.”

“Fuck – I’m gonna try fall in love with my best friend if I get to be able to write shit that good.” Chez muses.

“Please fucking don’t, that’s me. I see enough of you as it is.” Eso cringes.

That afternoon and evening and well into the night, the drums and bass are added and it’s perfect.

“We’re playing this next weekend at The Tech, no questions.” Eso announces.

Choso clenches his jaw, this song – you can’t hear it. It would ruin everything, this perfect balance he’s so carefully curated.

But they were right, his soul went into that song and it’s fucking amazing.

“Fine. But absolutely – Y/N cannot know. Nobody tells her about the gig, she can’t come and she sure as shit can’t hear this song.”

Yuuji heard all this, because he’s eavesdropping. Megumi smacks him across the head, but he doesn’t listen. He knows what he has to do, and he whips out his phone.

Yuuji: Heyyyyyyyyy so IDEA Cho is playin a gig next weekend and he’s all shy about it n shit bc he’s dumb and won’t tell anyone but u should totally not say anything and surprise him!!! He won’t tell u abt it but it wld be a fun surprise for him!!!! Besties and all that wooohoooo

Your phone pinged with a message, and you smiled at the message. Choso had always been bashful about his talents, and you usually had to hound him to get the details of his gigs – but Yuuji was your little spy, and surprising him was a great idea, so after replying in the affirmative, you set your phone back down and continued dinner with Suguru.

The week came and went, and Saturday soon arrived. The gig was at 10pm, so at 6pm when your doorbell rang you were surprised.

Behind the door, stood Geto. His pretty face seemed uneasy in place of its usual languid smirk.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Oh, shit he did see; he saw me basically salivating over choso in the store last week. Gigs up.

“Eh, sure. This sounds ominous.” You awkwardly giggle as he walks in, hands in his pockets and sits at your kitchen island.

There’s silence for a minute, as you pour some coffee.

“Neither of us are being honest. With ourselves, or each other.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face.

You cock your head, a motion for him to continue.

“You’re in love with Choso.” He sighs, but still smiles.

You freeze. You were right, gigs up. You lean on the counter and look at the ceiling. There was no point in acting anymore, and you didn’t think you had the energy to pretend otherwise anymore.

“I’m sorry Suguru.” Your tears well up now, guilt overtaking you.

“Don’t be, I’m not.” He shrugs, sipping the coffee.

“What?” Your head whips to him.

“You’re in love with Choso, I’m in love with Satoru.” He smiles.

You’re actually… not shocked. It makes sense. Everything does. It all makes sense.

There’s a beat of silence before you catch each other's gaze, and you both begin to softly laugh.

“We’re fucking idiots, Suguru.” You say, running to wrap him in a hug.

“You’re an idiot. It’s just you now. Satoru told me he loved me last night, I told him I loved him too, have done since high school. You’re probably gonna hate me but – it was the best night of my life.” His lazy smirk has returned.

Despite just hearing you were technically just cheated on – you feel elated.

“Suguru, truly – I am so happy for you. You’re a good man – and I’m – I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the get-go. Truth is I’ve always been in love with Choso and, I’ve been trying to get over him for years.” The tears are back again. You try to will them away, but Suguru swipes them off your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“I know.”

“You’re still going to his gig tonight, right?” He asks.

You nod.

“Go get ready. I gotta go, but – I am sorry too. For how things worked out, but I’m glad I met you. Tell him tonight, Y/N. I think you’ll be surprised.” Suguru says, waltzing toward the door with that easy confidence that only he has.

“I’m sorry too, Suguru. I’m happy for you, really.” You shrug, smiling.

He opens the door and just before he leaves, he turns.

“Wear that baby blue set under your outfit - it’s fucking sexy as hell.” He says, winking at you as he closes the door and your jaw drops.

You’re left alone and as you stand there; you break into laughter.

That might have been the weirdest break up in history.

But – maybe, this was your sign.

If things could work out for Satoru and Suguru – maybe you could get your happy ending too.

By 10.15pm, you were walking in the door of the bar. The place was packed like a tin of sardines, and the first thing you heard was the Smokey tones of Choso’s voice mingled in with cheers and drunken singing from the audience, people were clamouring to the front to get a better view and place to enjoy the gig. The place must have been completely sold out, by the looks of things. You went to the bar and ordered a Gin and Tonic and sang along under your breath to the songs you’ve heard thousands of times as you sat in on practice sessions as the guy's test audience.

After about 15 minutes, you found a nice spot to lean against a pillar far enough away from the stage that you won’t be seen. You just want to enjoy the view for a while, he looks so beautiful under the lights. Signature buns gleaming with sweat under the lights and guitar hanging loosely off of his shoulder, another all-black outfit – tight black long-sleeved shirt with rips around the collar and black cargo’s again – your favourite on him. They make his ass look damn good.

You could hear murmurs in the audience as people passed, everything ranging from “Damn, I’d climb that front man like a tree,” to “the things I’d let their lead singer do to me would have me sent to hell,” and it make your skin crawl. Not that you disagreed, actually the opposite. You never used to feel such jealousy, hell you had set him up with some people but sometimes it reared its ugly head and tonight it was raging – pulsing through your veins like it was making its home there. You shake your head, looking back up at him. He looks so at home, so peaceful on the stage – that usual tension and awkwardness in his shoulders are gone when he’s on stage. You think happy Choso is the most beautiful Choso.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Choso’s words.

“Um – next songs a new one.” He murmurs into the mic and is met with cheers and applause.

The beat starts up, and you don’t recognise it. You always heard the songs first, before the other band members sometimes. You let yourself relax; he’s probably just forgotten. You take a swig of your drink.

I heard he got you a penthouse

on the westside when will he learn

That you're afraid of heights?

Choso’s voice croons through the room and you blink – wait, like that weekend Geto took you on? Did he take inspiration from your situation? That’s cool!

I heard he got you a new Benz

with the white wheels when will he learn

That you like to tandem bike?

Like the picnic weekend? He really had! That’s cool that your slightly mismatched relationship had been fodder for this song. No wonder he hadn’t told you, he was probably worried you’d be mad.

Mm mmh and I hate that

Wait, what?

His voice begins to swell, and the passion in his voice is something you’ve never heard in his covers of other artists, or in songs written by the other boys. This was new, the pain, the raw emotion seeping into his chords was so powerful it felt like the energy of the room changed completely.

And then, you heard the lyrics.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

Your heart stops, you drop the glass you’re holding but the sound is swallowed by the rasping delight of Choso’s voice booming through the speakers as he holds the mic and you stare at his face, eyes closed, and you could swear you can see his very soul in his body at that moment.

Because it hits you,

This song.

You weren’t just some inspirations.

You were the song.

He wrote it.

About you. For you.

He loved you.

Holy shit.

I heard he got you some new friends

with some big dreams when will he learn

That you already got your own? (Mm mmh)

Oh, I heard he got you the front row

at the rap show when will he learn

That you like The Rolling Stones?

You began to walk forward, still near the back of the crowd but close enough now that you’re within range for him to see you.

The chorus finishes, and he opens his eyes and his heart nearly drops from his body and his blood runs icey. You were there, standing, slack jawed and staring him in the eyes. You’ve heard the fucking song and you fucking know. It’s not hard to figure out when you hear it. How did you know? How were you here? He locks eyes with you, and sees tears glinting even from this distance but then – the corners of your lips, they quirk up into a smile. Wide, and so beautiful his breath almost catches. Your hands fly up to your mouth in surprise. He hopes to whatever power there is that’s a good reaction, because fuck, this is make it or break it. This could be 15 years of friendship and the love of his life gone.

Fuck it, damage is done now.

Might as well make it a good show.

And I've been thinking

Of all the little things

That you've been missing

When will you learn?

He wants you to understand, he needs you to feel what he’s telling you in this song. So, he pulls every fibre of himself, every ounce of love he’s ever had for you and spills it onto his guitar and down the mic.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

to figure you out.

His eyes never leave yours, and your hand drops from your mouth and he almost missed the moment of your mouth.

Four tiny words. He can’t even hear them over his own voice and music, or the cacophonous crowd.

But he sees them.

You see them on your lips.

I love you too.

He can’t help it. The smile takes over his body as he holds one of his hands in a fist to his heart as he stares at you through the crowd. Eso and Chez have seen what’s going on now too, and the drums and bass get some extra oomph poured into them at the sight.

I could treat you so much better

I've known you forever figured you out

You throw your hands up into the air, he saw you. He heard you; he knows. He knows you love him.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you too.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold, yeah

Figure you out (Figure you out, yeah)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

With a final cheer, the song comes to a close and without even a goodbye to the crowd, Choso’s guitar is left abandoned on the stage as he pushes through the room toward you and then you feel large, warm, calloused and oh so sweaty hands grip your waist and your feet leave the ground as you notice you’ve been hauled by Choso onto his shoulder and he’s walking toward the backstage area with you.

Privacy.

How very Choso.

The sound dies down but you can’t even find your footing when your feet touch the ground because before you even open your eyes, you’re pinned against a wall – and you’re suddenly engulfed in the smell of sweat, smoke and sandalwood cologne. Hands are on your cheeks and then lips are on yours and this might be heaven. You meet Choso’s lips with equal passion and ferocity – years of longing and desire and love spilling into a kiss because words just won’t be enough right now, and he just has to taste you.

He tastes like rum and coke, his favourite drink to have before a show and with a hint of spearmint gum and his lips just slot so perfectly against yours you think that they were puzzle pieces destined to fit like this forever. One hand finds its way into your hair, and the other to your waist to pull you flush against his chest and yours find purchase in his raven hair, wild from the show. You vaguely hear a door open and close – as if someone came in then very quickly left, but you couldn’t care less. Not when right now Choso was everywhere. His hands clutched you tight against him and you’ve never felt more on fire than you did in that moment.

The need for oxygen soon overtakes your need for Choso and you pull your lips away. You rest your forehead against his, both pairs of eyes still closed, but you can see the small smile on his flushed face.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers.

“Every word.”

“Me too.”

“I’d hope so – you just sang a whole song about it.” You laugh and he follows suit.

He kisses you softly, almost chaste.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids, since you gave me an animal cracker to buy my friendship.” He says, and you feel his lips move as he speaks.

“I’ve love you too Cho – since you let me buy your friendship with an animal cracker.”

You can feel him smiling into the kiss now, it grows messy – all teeth and giggles and shaking hands.

He stills.

And pulls away.

“Oh my god – we can’t, you’ve a boyfriend. What about Geto?” His eyes look panicked.

“In love with Satoru. We broke up earlier – he knew I was in love with you, told me to come and get my man.” You lean into him, cupping his cheeks so he looks straight down at you and his gaze softens.

“I’m all yours, Cho. I always have been.”

And that’s the final straw. You hear a sound you never thought the man capable of making as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in by your hip and fucking growls into your ear. You shiver.

“We’re leaving.” He says, grasping your hand and dragging you out the back door. Before you can think he’s lifted you onto the back of his motorcycle and plopped a helmet on your head, then he’s swinging a leg over and you wrap your arms around his stomach – as he revs the engine to life and takes off. You know he’s going back to your place – but you can’t focus when you can see his thick thighs flexing as he straddles the motorcycle and the purring of the engine does little to quell the heat between your thighs. As he parks up, he lifts you off the bike and once again throws you over his shoulder as you squeak in delight – he was so much larger than you, and the feeling of being manhandled like this was making you weak in the knees.

He takes your keys from your purse and opens the door, slamming it shut behind him and not even pausing as he strides straight for your room.

You’re unceremoniously tossed onto the bed and you love it and you squeeze your thighs together in the hopes of some form of friction where you need it most. He stands at the edge of your mattress and rips his shirt over his head before he falls down on top of you. Arms caging around your head and one thigh slotted between yours, the kiss that follows is all consuming. Devouring. You place your hands through his hair, pulling his silky raven hair from its buns and you tug slightly, and he bucks his hips into yours with a groan.

“Angel – please. Later, tomorrow, whenever you want - I’ll make love to you, properly. Show you how much I love you but right now, I gotta fuck you. I need’ta feel you, alright?” He growls into your ear, restraint quavering.

His words send a flush of wetness into your already ruined panties. That’s what you want, no - that’s what you need.

“Cho – look at me.”

And he does, the fire in his eyes is scorching and you stare right into it.

“I want you to fucking ruin me. Please, Cho.” You whine, and he can’t take it anymore.

Your shirt is being tugged over your head, and you can see him being so gentle - he’s trying to be, as least. You reach around and unclip your bra, flinging it across the room as he shimmy’s your jeans and panties down your legs. Had had worn the baby blue lingerie set – not that it mattered how in a heap on your bedroom floor.

Your senses clicked back into place and you were brought back down to reality. You were bare, naked as the day you were born, laying on your bed and about to have sex with Choso. Your Choso. Your best friend, your other half. The man you have always sworn you were destined for. You can’t help the tears that well up as you look at him. The light from your lamp behind him illuminated him in the most beautiful light and your breath hitches with a sob which startles him.

“Fuck, angel - what’s going on? Am I taking it too fast? We can stop – I don’t expect anything. Just talk to me.” He sits beside you now and you don’t even let him finish his sentence.

“I’m just happy, Choso. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.” You say as you flip you both around so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Fuck angel, you’ve no idea. Always had me so fucking hard from doing nothing, have me feeling like a virgin all over again.” He says as you unbuckle his trousers and start pulling them down his thighs, as he finishes the job for you.

He pauses for a moment, his turn for a reality check.

His eyes scan your naked figure, no art could do this justice. No dream of what you looked like under your clothes, no wet dream could come close.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How are you even real?” He says, gripping your hips and sitting up to capture your lips once more.

“You’re one to talk.” You tease as you gasp, feeling his desire clearer now with just his black boxers between you.

All softness was gone now.

He laid you on your back, laid a big hand over your lower stomach to keep you still and spread your thighs with his other.

“Gotta fuckin taste you. God, such a pretty pussy. Knew you’d be just as perfect down here.” He’s not even talking to you now, just rambling.

And he wastes no time in getting what he wants, face diving into your slickness and tongue exploring your folds like a man parched. The feeling of his wet mouth on your most sensitive parts makes you whine and gasp as he laps at you like an ice cream cone – once he wraps his pretty pink lips around your little Pearl of nerves you know you’re done for. You were already so worked up, you know you won’t last long. You didn’t even realise he’d slid a finger inside until he thrust in a second and curled them up into your squishy spot inside making you gasp out a stuttered version of his name and he groans into you – the sound of his name on your lips being said with such pleasure could almost make him cum on the spot, and he realises she’s grinding his hips into the mattress like a horny teenager. He’s ready for use his trump card now, he knows your close – can feel you clenching your thighs around his head. He stops suckling on your clip and you protest the lack of stimulation until you feel it – oh my god, how had you forgotten? The small, solid, metal nub laving against your clit was his fucking tongue piercing and within seconds, he had you gushing all over his face and fingers and moaning out like you never have before – vision completely white as you body shakes and waves of pleasure control your movements. He lets you ride out your high on his face before lifts away, reaching for his pants pocket before a tiny shaking hand is stopping him.

“Cho - I’m clean, and I’ve a coil, and I know you’re clean too. You don’t gotta wear one.” Your lashes flutter at him as his heart stutters.

“Angel, are you asking me to fuck you raw?” He asks, incredulous as your wide eyes blink innocently as if you don’t know what you’re doing, and you nod up at him.

He lifts his head to look at the ceiling to try and regulate his breathing, so he doesn’t just finish then and there. He must have done something really good in another life.

Your eyes scour his body, and you land on the bulge in his boxers, it looks big, heavy straining against the fabric, and you can see the wet patch where his tip has been leaking arousal this whole time. You wrap your fingers into the waistband and pull them down to free him. His pretty pick cock slaps up against his abs, spreading shiny pre across the sweaty skin there and oh he’s big. You always thought he would be, from outlines you’ve seen in swimming trunks and sweatpants. He’s perfect, 7.5 inches or so – and girthy, so deliciously girthy that you know the stretch will send you to heaven. You wanna taste him, but you need him inside you like, yesterday.

He hissed when you grip his length and spit into your hand to allow you to pump him a few times before you lay back and open your legs, inviting him into you. In the blink of an eye, your hand darts into your bedside drawer and a bottle of lube appears, no matter how prepped and wet you are you know you’ll need it to take him.

He takes it from you and exhales a breath as he squeezes some onto his cock and spreads it around and the sight is glorious. You always had a thing for guys jacking off, and seeing Choso palm and tug at his own dick was peak dream-fuel.

He spreads your folds with deft, nimble guitarists fingers and you hook your ankles around his back as he begins to push in and you both hiss at the feeling, the first taste of your union.

“You good, angel?” He asks, always such a sweet boy.

You bite your lip and nod at him, clutching at his back to pull him deeper and he obliges by filling you the rest of the way with one smooth thrust and when he bottoms out a string of profanities from both of you fills the air of the room. You lust addled brains pause for a second.

“I love you, Cho.”

“I love you too, angel. Please, be mine?”

“I’ve always been yours. All yours Cho. Make me yours, claim me.” You whimper and with that he pulls out only to slam his hips back into yours and he begins to barrel his hips into yours with the speed and force of a jackhammer and your breath is taken from your body.

“You want me to claim you? Fuck, such a perfect cunt. Made for me, you were made for me. I’m all yours, forever – angel. Jesus, squeezing me so tight. Cock’s all yours, angel. I love you.” He groans as he watches himself thrusting into your wetness.

He hooks your ankles over his shoulders and you can see the bulge in your tummy from how deep he is and you wordlessly grab his hand and press it to your tummy so he can feel himself in you. He’s possessive, that much is clear – so you know it’ll drive him wild.

He actually fucking whimpers and you’ve never heard anything hotter and you attach your lips to his neck and suck a dark bruise onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he bites down on your throat leaving clear indication of where he’d been. You feel your peak approaching fast and he does too, he pulls down to watch your face as you cum.

“Cum for me pretty, I’m so close – where can I – fuck, where can I cum?” He whimpers into your skin.

“Inside Cho. Please.” You reply, sounding so fucked out that his hips grow sloppy and he twitches into your magic spot and you clench around him, and the fluttering feeling of your tight walls as you cum around his cock sends him over the cliff with the most powerful orgasm of his life.

He thrusts a few more times, savouring the feeling of your heat. As he pulls out, his eyes are drawn to the sight of your mixed spends leaking from your clenching hole and he swears he’d immediately hard again.

You grab his shoulders and pull him beside you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re incredible.” You whisper.

“No more than you, angel.” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as you giggle.

He relaxes and clutches you into him.

“So, ehm – are we like, yaknow – do you wanna… maybe?” His eyes dart around the room and you struggle to connect the lustful, dominant, possessive man who’s just fucked you into your mattress with the shy, kind boy trying to talk to you now.

“Yes Cho. We’re dating. I’m your girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” You giggle, swinging your legs from the bed and waltzing to the en suite door.

“That’s the best sentence I ever heard.” He says, with a hazy, fucked out smile.

You whisper sweet nothings into the night as you clean up together, and find time for another round before you finally drift off in each others arms, limbs entwined. No more separate beds at sleepovers, just wrapped up in each other.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

A 15 year old boy, curled up watching a film with his boyfriend jumped when his phone buzzed.

Big Bro: I know it was u little shit that told her abt the gig. She heard the song.

Yuuji: idk what ur talking about 😇😇😇😇😇

Big bro: idiot. But I’m not coming home tonight - I’m staying at hers. So, thank you – even if ur a menace to society. Megumi can stay, u can stay w ur bf bc I’m stayin w my gf.

And the boyfriend in question jumps out of his skin when Yuuji jumps up cheering.

“They got together! ‘Gumi! Look, Y/N’s his girlfriend! YES!” Yuuji is jumping in the air like he just won the lottery.

Megumi rolls his eyes, but mutters.

“Fucking finally.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso smut #choso kamo #choso imagine #choso au #band au #jjk smut

[bitterpngs]

(ids in alt text)

*grips you by the shoulders* listen. LISTEN. tsumiki would 100% listen to metal hear me out. im not saying she’d only listen to it, i think she’d also listen to popular pop songs and all but. metal. metal!! first of all it’s energetic!! like pop can be.

second of all. that is a young teen. metal would be cathartic and soothing. she’d feel content listening to metal because she’d burn through her negative emotions by listening to it. the energy of the music would reflect her feelings. it’d be a private way to work through her emotions!!! i don’t know how to explain it!!!! trust me!!!!!!

third-

#jjk #tsumiki fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #my art #LISTEN!!! #IF ID LISTENED TO METAL AT AN EARLIER AGE THAT WOULDVE BEEN ME!!!! GIRL WHO DOES NOT LOOK LIKE THEY LISTEN TO METAL LISTENS TO METAL #i look different now but back then….. #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanart #i might not draw this but i hc that when she first attempted to listen to metal she thought it was boring and was very disappointed #so she didnt touch metal for a few years until she decided to give it another change with another band and loved it #chance** #this is specifically in a modern au but honestly itd work with the canon setting too #also she’s like 14 here. might’ve made hee look too young though #oh well #ID #id in alt text #described

[hinamie]

- WIP -

i would like to formally apologize for lying when i was asked what my least favourite things to draw were and i didn't say shoes >:(

#my art #wip #jjk band!au #timelapse #this took....2 hours.................. #sukuna and his mullet can wait until tomorrow im going to bed zzzzzzzzz #I FORGOT TO GIVE THEM GUITAR STRAPS IM .