#jjk holiday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satoruhour · 5 months

Note

Helllooo!!!! I hope you're doing well<33 I'm not sure if you're taking requests so this can be taken as a random rant as well. (I'm in my exam week-depressed-stressed era lol) but is it just me Or the animated version of choso and the mans voice actor just doubled his hotness!?? Hence why me is here to ask if you could do a choso street racer au, could be anything from him meeting at a race or him taking them drifting? Idk but I just need more racer choso au's😭😭😭

LUCKY DIME

a/n: oh no my love i hope your exams went well and that you’re resting comfortably now ❤️ OFCCCC i planned to write a racer!choso for so long i just didnt have any motivation / tagging @screampied

wc: 3k

warnings: racer!choso, reader is ‘dating’ a weirdo, fem!reader, threat of sexual assault (from weirdo guy), threatening harm, flashback, unsafe driving tendencies (dont follow them in this fic lol pls drive safely), semi-public sex (parking lot), car sex, slight nipple play, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, finger sucking, implied multiple rounds and p -> v sex later on, n*sfw under the cut

choso hasn’t always been open about his origins — moving from the shimotsuma district to shibuya just two years ago in need of quick cash to send back to his struggling mother. it was a hard decision on both ends, with his mother advocating more for him to leave for a better life than the one she could offer. he acquiesced with a promise to earn enough to send back to her every month in return for the secret stash she provided for him and that promise meant everything. he was going to get money no matter what.

even if it meant meddling with the local yakuza, doing petty little tasks of collecting money, escorting the people important to the oyabun to their meeting places, being on lookouts while gambling and prostitution happens indoors. choso would never write back to his mother on what he’s been doing to get so much money, but if he’s able to send a hefty amount back to her on every 29th, he’s satisfied.

that is until he’s met with a couple arguing as they walk along the alleyway, creating such a ruckus that choso’s sure they could power the whole of shibuya — well, more of the man, anyways, saying something about racing and cars that he’s not even sure he catches on.

“well, if you just listened to her and opted for a flat-plane rather than use a cross-plane, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the race!” you’re throwing your hands up, struggling to walk behind in these new heels you bought while you navigate the dark alleyway. for a boy who’s expressed interest in you, he wasn’t doing well in trying to keep you one bit. you’d say he’s rather annoyed that you know so much about cars, trying to genuinely help him while he just sees it as attacks.

“yeah, well, if you kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have embarrassed me about losing to noritoshi.” you roll your eyes, unaware you’re passing a dangerous area with dangerous activities behind the door choso was guarding, nor do you notice the way the bodyguard perks up at the name of noritoshi, who sounds awfully familiar.

you scoff, “trust me, you embarrassed yourself the moment you tried to challenge the dude,” it was meant to be a harmless comment; noritoshi could never measure up to the famous four, but he practised his drifting hard enough and put in the hard work, stayed humble. he was everything that your “man” wasn’t, and it was only deserved that he didn’t win. ultimately, you didn’t expect much from a man in the illegal racing scene who only cared about who had the nicest engines and paint finishes.

“what’d you say?”

choso keeps a close eye on the both of you.

“it was nothing—” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his arm to get him to stop shouting so loud when you notice the person standing in front of a shady door — twin pigtails hairstyle with a dead look in his eyes and a tattoo across his nose, dressed up in a suit. it was scary enough walking through a dimly-lit alleyway, but your fear heightens when your eyes fall upon the surroundings of ashes of late night campfires, dried blood along the walls, and used condoms on the floor.

“no, no, tell me what you said, just so i know that i heard you right,” your “man” insisted, stepping up so close to you that your nerves were on high alert from the proximity and the possibility of that someone just a few feet away inflicting harm on the both of you.

“it was nothing! i just meant that you didn’t have a chance against noritoshi from the st—” it’s like you hit a sensitive nerve, because the next thing he’s doing is grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, not aware of how choso perks up even more, ready to leave his post. it borderline hurts with the way he grasps at your skin, paired with the discomfort of your heels and outfit, you can’t just wait to get home and rest up.

“ohh, so that’s what you said!” the man continues to tug you, not heeding your pleas for him to stop, “might as well just leave you here with the yakuza to see whether you stand a chance.”

that’s what the man was guarding . . wait.

a shout wretches out of you when you notice there’s no shadows at the door that’s lit simply with fluorescence at the same time the mysterious man has one hand each on your arms.

“who are you—” your “man” has the gall to speak first, shocked at the stronger grip of the other when he tears the fingers away from your wrist before stumbling back. the mysterious guy simply tugs you into his hold, levelling the other with just a stare from his eyes that’s got him babbling and stuttering in fear. you hate to admit that once the man beside you speaks, your body curls into his side — it’s like a smooth cup of coffee that you gravitate towards.

“do you want to repeat what you just said?” choso puts you behind him as he approaches the other, one step taken while the cowering one takes one step back. “because i can always open the door i’m guarding and let them take care of you, instead.”

“t-that wouldn’t be necessary—” he’s adamant on his threatening, taking out a flip phone and dialling numbers one by one, no doubt the number of his boss. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on the pigtailed man as he continues to dial the number and pressing call. if choso’s being honest, he’s about to shit himself just as much, never having called his saiko-komon personally before so he only fakes the number, thanking the heavens that someone somewhere decided to call his boss’ phone just at the same time.

they all hear it, the familiar nokia ringtone from behind the door, but in choso’s ear, all it says is that it’s an invalid number that garners no answer. he talks over the operator’s voice anyway.

“yeah, i need you to take care of this guy. just outside here—” that’s enough for him to go running away, puddles splashing and his voice crying out for civilisation, although you’re not too happy yourself, afraid for your own fate. kept like a pet for the yakuza? made to work for them to pay off this small helping hand? commit—

you sit up from the hood, “you called a fake number?!” it’s hard to say when that fateful meeting turned into this over the past few months, asking choso to recount the night the two of you met out of curiosity when you realise that your yakuza-accountant boyfriend had dialled a fake number the whole time.

“i had just joined! i wasn’t going to phone my boss . .” he sheepishly says with head turned to you, and while you’re giving him brutal smacks on the shoulder (“what! if! he! hadn’t! run! away! were you going to let a phone operator beat him up?”), you’re still thankful he decided to step in at the right time even if his heroic act had been brought down a notch by this revelation.

it’s then that he asks about the whole racing thing you were involved in but you’re taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t going to make you do anything in return. even if the alley had boasted its dubiousness, you realise than the man standing in front of you was not much older than you, a childish sparkle in his eyes when you entertained the question. with a random number in your phone, it was up to you if you wanted to text him, but after a few races, you think that he was just too handsome to pass up.

choso picked up racing and drifting fast, joining your small group of friends of yuji, megumi and nobara who were all rising up the ranks. it was difficult, knowing the famous four, but it didn’t hurt trying to build a reputation in the underground scene. he practised around the docks, crashing into crates, sending the seagulls flying, and almost sending your scrap car over the edge.

“tokyo is pretty at this time of night,” choso mumbles as he sits up, too, liking the way you scooch closer to him on the hood of his 1967 Ford Mustang.

“tokyo is cold, i’m lucky i’m not freezing to death.” you tease him even when you’re wearing his warm jacket, squealing when his cold hands make it under the jacket and your shirt.

“how are you cold, that jacket’s wool!” he nestles his face into your neck, freezing nose touching the skin there and you giggle, trying your best to push him away. choso says that, but he’s happy to see you in his jacket while his arms tingle with both frost and lovesickness. “you’re just extra sensitive to the cold.”

before you can retaliate, though, he’s pulling away from your body heat to look you in the eye; it was a wonder he even got you, a girl who’s just so passionate about cars and who taught him everything he needed to know about it. six months down the road, he’s writing about something other than living paycheck to paycheck again, getting in some extra money from racing as well.

“wanna drive?”

you grin, hopping off his hood before jumping into the car beside him and he only laughs at your enthusiasm, hopping in after you and starting the ignition. you wish it was like this before every race: you beside him in the passenger seat as he gets ready to race against his opponent. the rev of the engine always excites you, knowing you contributed to the many modifications of his Mustang. but choso always says it’s dangerous for you — so you’re left to watch from the sidelines.

but now, as choso drifts down the mountain, you can’t help but stare at him as he changes gears every few seconds, hair blowing everywhere from the wind outside before he reaches the base and races off into the main road. you’re shouting in excitement, music blasting loudly from the cassette player while you dominate the streets at night.

“d’you think i can break 190, sweetheart?”

your jaw drops, “while drifting?” he nods, “you’re insane . . yeah, do it.”

choso’s laughter feels infinitely heavenly, stepping on the accelerator on a fairly empty road. he’s familiar with the traffic of the roads too, so at 4am, it’s basically deserted when he speeds down the gravel while he tries to break the speed limit. you feel on top of the world, a pretty road full of green lights on every turn; there’s a couple of sharp screeches from his tires as he navigates shibuya.

“hear that increased throttle response . .” you whistle when he presses his foot into the accelerator again, Mustang speeding off into the streets while you look over to him: hand holding the stick shift and one hand on the wheel. he’s as pretty as you remember him six months ago and his beauty truly hits you in the moment that you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

“all thanks to you, baby,” feels like the final blow, not knowing the effect he has on you until you’re waiting until he slows down to place your hand atop his on the steering wheel. there he lets you steer where you want to go, face melting into recognition at the place you’re taking him to.

“you’re nasty.” in the abandoned car park, he giggles when you’re shushing him as you make your way to the backseats, levelling him with a stare that begged him to hurry.

“yeah . . whatever, you like it.”

choso grins, switching off the ignition and climbing in after you, making you forget all about the cold season of japan in mere minutes. his lips collide with yours and his body naturally pushes yours to the leather seats, driving you crazy just with his mouth. his hands make quick work of your skimpy outfit, inching past your tight halter top and to your tits. you gasp softly into the kiss.

“may i?” even after all this time, choso still asks for permission, pulling down your top and bra when you nod.

his mouth is both warm and gentle when it meets with your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and eyes looking up at you just to relish in the hooded lids and soft moans you give him. his free hand fondles your other, squeezing and playing, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“just s’soft . . always,” he hums into your chest, kissing you down bit by bit and making you wait for it with each teasing journey he makes. there, he manoeuvres himself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpeted finishing as your knees hook onto each shoulder. the car is filled with your laboured breathing, watching him slowly undo the straps to your uncomfortable heels. it’s excruciatingly slow, pulling at the strings and removing each shoe before his lips leave fire along your shin, up to your thighs and to your pulsing core.

“choso . .” you whine, hips bucking off the leather.

all he does is laugh, hands spreading your legs before he’s licking his lips at the mess you made in your skirt, panties and back of the fabric soaked right through. your boyfriend pulls you forward with a certain fervour that makes you yelp and you match him with a nervous grin as he tugs away the underwear and marvels at the arousal that just sticks to your pussy, pretty and dripping right in front of him.

you have no warning before choso indulges himself in your cunt and you cry out in surprise, hand tangled up in the mess of his hair that falls from his pigtails. his warm tongue laps at your clit like a man starved, slurping up all of your arousal into his tongue. the cold weather is just the cherry on top, cold wind wafting through the walls and the windows, making you extra sensitive.

“c-cho—” you hum, one hand lost in his black locks while the other clutches tightly onto the seats for any sort of anchor while choso only pushes his face further in between your legs. he can feel your pussy clench around nothing, switching between sucking and flicking his tongue with a relentless pace that threatens your sanity. “t-too much . .”

all he does is laugh into your centre, eyes flitting to meet yours while he continues his ministrations, arms wrapping around your thighs. choso moans at how good and sweet you taste, a curious hand moving from your legs right to your hole where he plays with your folds. gently, he pushes past your walls and you whimper from the intrusion, clamping down around his finger.

“relax, darling, i got you,” he softly says, relaxing his pace just a bit as he starts to thrust his finger. while slow, his tongue doesn’t stop, however, still continuing to make the lewdest noises.

“pussy so damn sweet,” he groans, nuzzling his face right into your sloppy core before teasing a second finger; it’s easy to slip in but he still warns you wordlessly, inching them right in until they reach the knuckles, “and so tight, too—”

the car is filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of your pussy and your endless moans as choso starts to pump his fingers in and out, reaching so much deeper than any of your toys can and stretching you out just right. your hips buck uncontrollably as you feel that coil in your stomach, knowing that you were only going to get even more of this before choso properly fucks you — but it’s all he promises, that to make sure you’d cum on his fingers and tongue thrice before he even thinks of railing you like you deserve.

“c-choso, your fingers—!”

“yeah?” it’s breathless, bottom half of his face all soaked and wet, but he goes right back in.

“mmfuck— cho, cho, p-please . .” your words are jumbled up, babbling through your teeth while his fingers gathers all of your juices, “i’m g’nna—”

choso thinks you’re just perfect like this, moaning as much as you want in his Mustang and spread out just for him to eat. he cannot keep his eyes off you, curling his fingers just a bit to find your sweet spot as he flicks your bundle of nerves as his eyes stay on the way your lips part for little pants to escape. your eyes have fluttered close by now but he doesn’t mind as you continue to push his head towards your cunt.

“cum on my fingers, my love,” the other groans, words muffled a little, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.”

“cho— f-fuuck . .” you writhe around on the leather seats as you reach your peak, voice descending into a silent scream while your jaw hangs open. at his peripheral he can see and feel your thighs tremble while you chant his name like a prayer, over and over until you think your voice is hoarse. his seats are wet, no doubt, and you wince seeing your cum decorate the leather, but choso quietens your worries as he leans up to give you a kiss. you can taste yourself.

“taste good?” you’re ruined despite it being your first orgasm, answering half-heartedly before slumping, a soft moan leaving you when he removes his fingers and strings of your arousal stick to each digit. his hand naturally gravitates towards your mouth, fumbling with your lips before he pushes in — distracted, he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto your cunt again and you mewl loudly.

“that’s just the start,” choso grins, laying a long stripe up your pussy and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls over his fingers, “i’m sorry in advance . . hope you’re able to get out of bed tomorrow, baby.”

451 notes · View notes

ballet-in-a-football-field · 1 year

Text

JJK SPOILERS

“Gojo Satoru has been unsealed after 19 days”

HOW IS IT THAT WE WAITED FOR THREE DAMN YEARS AND THERE IT’S “19 days”

WERE WE THE ONES IN THE PRISON REALM?????

WAS THAT SOME TWISTED NARRATION TECHNIQUE GEGE

WAS IT

#jjk spoilers #jjk #gojo satoru #also was there a gym in prison realm cause DAMN #19 lovely holiday days #a cruise basically #jjk221 #jujutsu kaisen

1K notes · View notes

peskyfirefly · 5 months

Text

dedicated to @sattosugu <3 happy holidays!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjkedit #manga coloring #my edit #thank u for always being so lovely and sweet luna! i hope u have a wonderful and safe holiday season thats full of joy!!<3

252 notes · View notes

wriochilde · 5 months

Text

#i miss them so much even though its been a day since i watched s1 #my art #jjk #itajun #yuji itadori #junpei yoshino #jujutsu kaisen #anyways if youre thinking hm finn your artstyle looks different! well then #its because ive been fucking around with my art more than i do normally .for holiday spirit if you will

337 notes · View notes

artapatata · 5 months

Text

Yes there is still some time for Christmas and no I do not condone him wanting to rip apart the Satoru plushie 😔

#fan art #anime #drawing prompt #procreate #pencil #illustration #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk fanart #jjk #gojo saturo #christmas #happy holidays

240 notes · View notes

amywritesthings · 5 months

Text

something in the movies. / a gojo satoru holiday one shot

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 2.2k / rated mature summary: A romcom marathon for the holidays (and his birthday) with your colleague, Gojo Satoru, hits a little too close to home with your own accidental romcom moment.

tags: hidden inventory arc spoilers, colleagues in denial, childhood friends to lovers, holiday movie marathon, sexual tension, romance, fluff with a little sluttiness, fade to black, gojo get smooches for his birthday because he deserves it credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the fifth day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!

When Gojo Satoru suggests stopping by your apartment for a day-long movie marathon extravaganza, you expect the usuals:

Something pitifully 1980’s with much too goofy graphic violence;

Thrillers with a twist that's solvable by act one, though Gojo insists this one will stump you;

A science fiction exploration flick that’s a little outdated but fun nonetheless.

Yet when he’s standing outside of your apartment door, his hands are full of—

“Holiday movies?”

You squint and turn your chin to observe the titles as he proudly holds them out to you to take.

Every cover is an endless array of snowy backgrounds and people dressed in all sorts of ugly sweaters, with no distinction in sight.

(He always did take his December birthday very seriously, even when you were just kids at Jujutsu High.)

“Not just holiday movies.”

Gojo corrects your assumption, stepping into your apartment without a formal invitation.

He kicks off his black shoes at your door with a smirk.

“Shitty romantic comedies."

"I've never heard of any of these," you mumble when you pluck the DVDs from his hands.

"How could you? They're only available in a discount bin, so they're guaranteed hidden gems. These babies never made it to the big screen. ”

You watch him making himself at home, navigating your apartment like he owns the place.

The world's greatest sorcerer never cares to be polite, not when this song and dance has played on repeat for ten years.

Pretending he lives here, as opposed to being a frequent guest second to your mutual friend Nanami, is just part of the norm when school is in recess.

(But you’re not dating.)

You can’t date a colleague, not really.

Although Principal Yaga wouldn’t particularly care if you did, fraternizing with someone you work with — someone you've grown up with, someone you've bled with — isn’t a leap you’re willing to make.

Besides, you’ve lived long enough as a first-grade sorcerer to know Jujutsu Society has a habit of fucking up good things, both intentionally and accidentally — so you don’t.

Which, in turns, leads you both to a hairy situation where you’re both spending all of your free time away from the halls of Jujutsu High to do…

Well, this.

Whatever this is.

“So you bought a bunch of… Hallmark movie DVDs?” you clarify.

“Yep.”

“And you want to binge… shitty Hallmark movies?”

“That’s hilarious. You say that like there are good ones.”

Gojo flops down on his favorite side of your couch.

He stretches his long legs out on the extended cushion, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Besides, what else are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, following him around the mouth of the hallway that spills into the small living room. “Maybe watch good holiday movies?”

His thumb catches the bottom of his black blindfold.

You never have to see his full face to know what type of mood he’s in, or how he’s looking at you: Gojo radiates his emotions like a neon shop sign whenever he’s around you.

Satoru pulls the fabric of the blindfold outward, teasing the reveal of his sparkling blue eyes.

(You’re not immune to their immense power. No one is.)

They’re not a flame to a wayward moth, but a fucking beacon.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never taken the time to binge these before.” He snaps the blindfold back in place. “They’re a riot.”

You shake your head.

“Not really in my wheelhouse, Gojo.”

“Well—”

Satoru slaps his hands against his thighs and uncrosses his ankles to stand, despite only just sitting down.

You’ve never seen a grown man so restless.

“—get ready for this stuff to knock your socks off, because I’m about to enlighten you on the true meaning of ‘tis the spirit.”

“You mean ‘tis the season?”

“Same thing.”

He fidgets with your ancient Blu-ray player you haven’t quite shelved yet as you make your way into the kitchenette connected to the living room.

You know what he wants before you can ask — a White Russian mocktail to match your alcoholic one.

(But you're not dating.)

You mix the ingredients together, eyes following as he drops back onto your couch, long arm extended over the back.

Butterflies flutter when he pulls the blindfold off, pocketing it for later, and fixes a pair of black sunglasses over his eyes.

His hand then smooths over his white hair, curving at his freshly-buzzed undercut, and he settles in for the night.

Comfortable.

An oasis of calm in the ever-present Jujutsu storm.

(But you’re not dating.)

And he’s right.

The movies? Fucking terrible.

Gojo doubles over when he laughs. You have to wipe your tears from laughing just as hard.

You find the back of your head dropping to the couch when you laugh, landing unintentionally into his open palm.

Satoru cradles your head safely in his hand to keep it from hitting the back of the furniture.

Two sappy romantic comedies and three drinks later—

You find yourself inching closer to the middle cushion of your couch acting as a zone of neutrality between you.

He isn’t much better, constantly fidgeting on his end. The white-haired man lets a long leg dangle over the arm of the couch, his torso scrunched in an awkward half-lay towards the middle.

With each peanut-gallery commentary and scathing review of unbelievable scenarios, you both find yourselves nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

He’s sober as can be, and you’re warm from the alcohol’s influence.

Still, it’s only a mere dusting of tipsy — you can stomach a lot of liquor in comparison to most.

And you get lost in it.

This — the comfort, the familiarity, the way the main characters of this shitty Hallmark movie are holding one another.

The Christmas Prince is confessing his love to the small-town girl that wrecked all of his plans under the cover of a gazebo while snow falls around them. He admits he was in denial about her this whole time, the big dipper in his little dipper sky—

“Oh my god, look at you.”

You turn your face to Satoru at the record-scratch jest.

He smiles down at you, bordering a shit-eating grin.

Close.

A stone throw away.

Blinking twice, you begin wiping at your face assuming something got stuck on it.

“What? What about me?”

“You’re swooning—” Gojo points to the screen. “—over that.”

Your jaw drops, and he starts laughing — full bellied and joyous.

“I— Shut up, I am not!” you sputter pathetically in response.

“Are too! I see you! Starry-eyed over some bad pick-up lines.”

Gojo's head tilts, snow-white brow quirked high.

“Don’t tell me this cheesy stuff actually works on you.”

You gesture with a hand to the television to protest. “He’s saying she’s his big dipper! It’s cute!”

Gojo snorts, seemingly disinterested, but he reaches forward.

Suddenly you feel his thumb run along the high point of your cheek.

All motor functions in your body cease to exist.

“Please, I can do way better,” the white-haired man says. “This guy isn’t even trying to act.”

All you can do is stare, flushed with uncertainty.

(When did it become a competition to woo you?)

Gojo slides his thigh off of the couch’s arm to sit up, leaning in.

Danger.

Neon signs.

You need your white flag, but you’re too curious about where this may lead.

“First of all, he’s cornering her like she’s a hostage. That’s kind of creepy. He’s all about ‘you’re my big dipper’, but what does that even mean? They haven’t mentioned any stupid stars once in this movie.”

He drags his thumb once more with a breathy chuckle.

“Dumbass doesn’t even hold her face right. Why’s his thumb all the way on her cheek? You gotta scoot your hand up a little so you can — there.”

Oh.

The movie becomes white noise to your own predicament when Gojo glides his palm across your cheek.

His thumb, once stroking your face, dips to your mouth.

He runs it timidly along your bottom lip—

Then softly tugs it down, and you're not sure if it's you who gasped or if you imagined the sound.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

Satoru murmurs, voice an octave lower, keeping the conversation in the space between you.

The way the question veers this situation away from silly pick-up line mockery to something more — something real — has your body tensing.

You should shut this down.

You should laugh it off.

Your voice is barely audible when you protest his name.

“Gojo, don't fuck with—”

“I’m not fucking with you,” he interrupts, as if he anticipated you to protest. “I’m not. I'm genuinely asking.”

"Where is this coming from?" you ask.

"Just wanted to know, that's all," he mumbles in return. "Have they?"

“...people have."

You reply after a beat, purposefully watching his mouth as his tongue runs along the seam of his lips.

“In fact, I’m pretty sure you have. Before."

"Yeah?"

"Multiple times.”

“Yeah?”

“When we were kids.”

“Ha—" The mention brings a passing glow to his face. "And I totally meant it back then, too.”

He must notice the way your eyes grow wider.

“What? I didn’t have a filter when we were kids,” he says with a snort, seemingly mesmerized by the way your lip moves under his thumb. “I was too busy to lie. Still am — busy, I mean. But you stuck around.”

You look at him curiously, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

I was busy.

Sure — trying to be the best with Geto, to avoid getting corralled by Yaga, to beg Ieiri to meddle in the incessant hijinks.

In Jujutsu High, you were a year behind him with Nanami Kento and Haibara Yu.

Quickly it only became Nanami Kento.

And, with so few young sorcerers in the world, it was crucial to befriend. To trust.

Geto defecting, Haibara dying, Utahime opting to teach in Kyoto, Shoko becoming a medical professional, Nanami choosing the real world over the land of curses—

It just left you, and it left Gojo Satoru.

For ten whole years, it’s only been the two of you — dismantling the old ways and ushering in a new wave of sorcerers who, hopefully, do not have to be in so much pain.

Your brows knit. “Satoru, where is this coming from?”

Talk to me, you want to say.

Calling him by his first name conveys enough.

“Bad Christmas movies, I guess,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer.

The short puffs of his breath tickle the lower half of your face.

“Premonitions. Reflections. The holiday spirit.”

“That moved by a Hallmark monologue, huh?” you try to tease, and his lips do quirk upwards with amusement at your jab. "And you said that guy’s speech was bad."

“It was terrible, to be fair,” he replies, “but it did give me ideas, so thanks Christmas Princess 7: Deck the Royal Halls.”

You snort to laugh, but before you can, he’s pulling your chin up and over.

Soft lips press to yours, and the world ceases.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press a second kiss to his lips.

He briefly grunts, pushing you back until you're flush with the length of the couch.

Gojo cages himself over you, hovering with a long leg dangling awkwardly off of the couch so as not to crush you.

Third, fourth, fifth — you lose track of how many greedy kisses happen.

They grow longer, deeper, and soon his tongue is flicking over your lips to ask for access.

You easily open your mouth to moan into the kiss, and you feel him shiver above from the noise.

His hand crawls up your hip, seeking the hem of your shirt — seeking the warmth of your bare skin under his large hands.

You let him.

You'll let him do whatever he wants so long as he keeps going.

His glasses begin sliding down the bridge of his nose from the sheer passion of his kisses, awkwardly pulling you out of the moment when they nudge against your face.

You laugh and Gojo pants above you, blue eyes alight with a fiery desire.

There is an overwhelming ease to this, like you’ve waited your whole lives to try —

To enjoy.

To indulge.

To live.

"Happy birthday, by the way," you pant, and Satoru grins wicked and wide.

"Thought maybe you forgot."

"How could I forget? You're only very loud about your birthday every year," you joke right back, swallowing to coat your dry throat. "Did you wanna do something for it?"

He stares down at you over the falling sunglasses, blue eyes sparkling. "Was a shitty romcom marathon not my gift? Because that's kinda all I wanted."

Butterflies invade your stomach.

"Yeah?" you breathe.

He nods. "Yeah."

A moment of heavy air and anticipation passes over you both. He still pins you to your couch, hovering. His hands never left your sides, shirt scrunched under his wrists.

“I wanted to see how that movie ended, by the way,” you add.

That makes him bark with a laugh.

“I can act the rest out for you if you let me stay.”

He’s only stayed the night a few times, each ending with never happening again.

Yet history is doomed to repeat itself.

You’ve both learned that by now.

Still? It's technically his birthday.

“Fine,” you relent with an amused exhale. “Stay.”

(But you’re not dating.)

272 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

Note

hi! first i love your writing. it’s so amazing

since it’s getting into the christmas season, i was wondering if you’d want to do something with choso experiencing christmas season things with a partner for the first time. like decorating a tree, kissing under mistletoe and all that kinda stuff?

thank you so much for all your insanely amazing writing!

Aww this was absolutely fun and cute to write, I really hope you like it! Thank you for your request and kind words love 🤍

Teaching Choso about Christmas and kissing underneath the mistletoe

Pairing: Choso x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Even though Choso thinks he's seen it all by now, the idea of Christmas just doesn't reach him until you show him the tradition of kissing underneath a mistletoe...

Warnings: Christmas fluff coming your way! This was such a fun request and I really hope it gets you into Christmas mood! Would you like to read more Christmas special content? Let me know in the comments or get in my inbox <3

„And…why exactly are you putting those strange balls onto that tree?” Choso questions while eyeing you up and down critically.

Within the last few months, you were able to teach your precious boyfriend a lot of things he missed as a cursed womb. Everything was new to him: having feelings, getting close to each other, ordering ice cream. But somehow, you actually managed to make a decent human being out of him.

Well, at least until now.

“That is called a Christmas tree and those ‘strange balls’ are called ornaments. We do that every year around that time. Look at how stunning it is”, you explain with excitement glowing in your eyes.

Choso truly loves seeing you like that, wearing that strange sweater and a gorgeous smile on your face. But somehow, this whole concept of Christmas doesn’t make any sense to him. Why would you celebrate the birth of a single child for more than 2000 years? And why do you have to decorate a tree to do so?

He watches as you carefully place another ornament on the tree, clapping your hands in joy. Oh, you look so lovely in the dim candle light with your slightly redden cheeks. His heart begins to jump up and down his chest all over again, eyes not able to tear away from your beautiful sight. If it makes you happy, he’ll celebrate Christmas every day.

“Stop looking at me like that”, you mutter all of the sudden, hiding your face behind your hands.

“Why would I ever stop looking at you?” he remarks along with tilting his head.

He crosses the room in an instant, his hands gently removing yours from your delicate face.

“You told me to tell you about my feelings. And right now, I feel captivated by your sight.”

Your heart skips a beat, shy eyes staring up at the man you learned to love after Shibuya, the man who stood out to you the second you met him. Choso Kamo is way more than a reincarnated curse, way more than a puppet of someone random. No, he is your boyfriend, the love of your life. Never in a million years you would have thought that you’ll stand here like this, him staring deeply into the ocean of your eyes while you can’t help but hold onto his strong arms for support.

God, how much you love that man. And how much you adore to teach him every little thing about Christmas.

“You know what that is?”, you question innocently.

Your fingers hold onto what looks like a branch.

“I now know what a branch looks like”, he remarks dryly.

“This isn’t just any branch.”

Carefully, you tie it to a hook above the both of you, your hands wrapping themselves around his. You smell so lovely, like vanilla and dough from the cookies you baked earlier. The room suddenly feels so warm and welcoming, making his heart feel as light as a feather. Seeing you like this truly makes him melt away in an instant.

“This is called a mistletoe. It’s not entirely clear why, but this branch is a symbol of love. It is tradition to kiss underneath a mistletoe whenever you have the chance to do so. Especially men should steal a kiss from a woman when standing under it. Otherwise it brings you bad luck”, you explain gently.

“I am allowed to kiss you wherever and whenever I want. But since I wanted to do it anyway, I’m more than glad to follow this tradition.”

You hold your breath, his lips pressing themselves onto yours. Sparks fly, it seems like the world around you fades away. It’s only you and him underneath the mistletoe. You, him and his mouth brushing against yours. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck, caress his back gently, get lost in the feeling of his body against yours. God, his smell is so intoxicating, the way he holds you by your waist sends shivers down your spine. Never in your life would you have imagined to love anyone as dearly as you love Choso Kamo. It’s almost a miracle, you and him standing here together. An incarnated cursed womb and a jujutsu sorcerer. But somehow, you made it. And oh does it feel right.

“Is there anything else you want to show me? Maybe another tradition that includes stealing a kiss from you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Actually…There’s something I want to show you. Just stay here, okay?”

He stares at you in confusion as you run up the stairs into the bedroom, your giggling filling the air with nothing but happiness. What are you up do? Choso shakes his head to himself with a small smile forcing itself onto his otherwise cold features. It doesn’t matter what makes you this happy. The only thing that counts for him is your breath-taking smile.

“Turn off the lights!”, you shout towards him, only your head sticking out of the door.

“Turning of the lights…But why?”, he replies with a frown.

Even though it makes you this light-hearted, Christmas seems to be a mystery for him still. What is up with all those lights, the different smells, all the things you hung up in the entirety of the house before? And why would he turn of the lights now?

“You’ll see, just do it!”

He signs to himself before doing as told. Maybe one tradition includes you getting naked after all…

You storm out of the room, holding what looks like a blinking sweater over your head in pure delight. Oh no, what is this about again? He still has to get used to the knitted sweater you’re wearing right now, but this thing? It literally glows in the dark, blinking so hard that he has to squint his eyes in order to see it clearly. Please, let it be another decoration, a strange tradition maybe-

“This one’s for you”, you announce proudly.

Choso isn’t even able to protest since you’re already pushing his head into the tiny hole, pressing his dark hair roughly into his face.

There he stands, blinking like the Christmas tree in front of him in this scratchy thing.

“The mistletoe was definitely more my taste”, he comments dryly.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it! Are you in the mood for learning some more about Christmas?”

He takes a step back while scratching his back.

“No, I think that’s enough for today…”, he mutters.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

210 notes · View notes

yuutakuns · 11 months

Text

Pondering Yuuta getting corrupted with a daddy kink for this Father’s Day.

Yuuta's apprehensive at first, kind of shy at being asked to take on the ‘daddy’ role, but who is he to say no to his princess? He’s always willing to try something if it leads to your happiness. It’s just a word, after all.

Content Warnings: 18+, MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), afab reader, daddy kink, cervix fucking, breeding kink, overstimulation

It’s when Yuuta is finally positioned at your entrance, his leaky head teasing at your slick folds that you finally mutter softly, “P-please daddy…”

Yuuta’s breath hitches and he gives you the strangest stare before tensing the grip on your hips, choosing to rut his cock head over your aching clit, slowly moving back and forth.

It was driving you nuts, you rutted your hips back into his, desperate for any stimulation on your poor pathetic pussy.

“Daddy,” you whine, “P-please please please, more.”

“More what?” Yuuta says gruffly, “Tell your daddy what you want more of.”

Your brain short circuits but you continue to desperately rut on his throbbing cock. Hand reaching up to grab at his arms to pull him closer.

“I n-need… More of daddy’s cock…. I need him to please fuck m-me…”

"That's my good girl," He whispers before he’s absolutely drilling into your wet, sopping hole. He positions himself over you, your legs spread up over his shoulders as he continues to abuse the warmth and tightness of your cunt.

It's tight, the stretch burns as he fucks you in earnest. Yuuta’s cock hits you deep, with no abandon as you see stars every time his tip hits your cervix.

"Daddy, s'too much-- You're too much," you sob, overstimulated as his throbbing dick pistons in and out of you.

"Aw, my poor baby can't take Daddy's cock? Isn't this what you wanted? To be bred like the pathetic little slut that you are?"

You cry out as he overstimulates your pussy, digging your nails into his forearm as you cum again and again on him. You're an absolute mess. Soft tears bubble in your eyes but your daddy eats it up, licking the salty droplets as he smiles sweetly at you.

"Daddy has to take care of his princess, right?"

#━☆ﾟ.* dreaming #⋆୨♡୧⋆ yuuta #⊱✿⊰ jjk #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk smut #yuuta smut #cw. daddy kink #sorry I’m plagued #I’m actually not usually one for daddy kink but today is a holiday so I'll allow it #happy father's day!!!!!!

381 notes · View notes

surprisebitch · 4 months

Text

aah my nanami prints have arrived 💙💛

#kento nanami #just in time during the holidays #nanamin #loml #personal #jjk

74 notes · View notes

nakunakunomi · 5 months

Text

This is my contribution to a secret santa discord server event. This fic is warm and fluffy and I LOVED writing it, I love these characters SO much. I hope you like it too!

Warnings/notes/tags are: polyamory, unspecified AU where Geto is not evil, unspecified whether this is a non-cursed world or a jujutsu AU where we just ignore the presence of curses. Loads and loads and loads of fluff.

2nd person. Reader is genderneutral, no pronouns are used.

Spending the winter holidays with Geto and Gojo is…

…finding time in your busy schedules so the three of you can enjoy a winter market.

Strolling along the little stalls, taking in the views and the smells. It’s winter, and it has been dark for a while, but all the twinkling lights decorating the stalls reflecting into the white snow -both real and fake- make up for all that darkness. The smells are a little overwhelming at first, all kinds of stalls lined up flooding your senses with strong, sweet odors, heavy spices and the warmth of grilled meats… it’s a lot, combined with the sights and the jolly music playing from the speakers spread around the market, you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

It doesn’t help that Satoru is immediately overly enthusiastic, ready to spend money on souvenirs and gifts for all the students and everyone else he knows, and pointing out all the stalls he’d like to try the food at. He’d run off without you two if it weren’t for Suguru’s quick reflexes, grabbing onto the hood of his jacket and janking him back. Suguru’s holding your hand firmly in his, grounding you from all the things overwhelming your senses.

You stroll past the stalls, for some reason holding a whole bunch of bags from Satoru, who just can’t seem to stop getting stuff. At every stall there is something that reminds him of one of his studens, his friends or either of you, and he just has to get it.

You leave the market filled with all kinds of foods and drinks, Suguru suggesting a little break amongst the food stalls, and Gojo getting a little bit of everything to sample, completely filling the little table you are standing at with various containers and plates, one smelling and looking more delicious than the other. You have to fight a little to ensure you get to sample some of the sweet desserts, and all three of you end up with smears on your faces from various sauces- feeding each other is romantic only when you don’t joke around and miss mouths on purpose (and of course you had to have revenge).

… snuggling up on the couch, shivering and sniffling, full of regret but still shaking from laughter, after Suguru sneakily started a snowball fight on your way home.

You had felt the cold snow collide with the back of your head and turned around immediately, throwing an accusatory glare at Satoru, who immediately put his hands up in defense.

“I swear y/n- It wasn’t me I-…”

His pleas immediately interrupted by yet another snowball, this one narrowly missing the tip of his nose, the both of you whipping your heads around to see Suguru standing with his hands hidden behind his back, giving you both his most innocent smile before grinning and throwing two more snowballs at the both of you simultaneously, a remarkable display of his aim and strength. Though this time you saw them coming and both you and Satoru managed to duck away in time, already grabbing handfuls of snow for your counter-offense.

The two-against-one-match quickly turned into an all-out battle where each of you had to fend for themselves, because you slipped and nearly fell, throwing one of your snowballs to Satoru, who had promptly declared you his enemy as well.

You spent almost two hours laughing, running around, hiding from snowballs and each other, you felt like kids again. As if there was not a single care in the world. You continued until your stomach hurt from laughing, your fingers ached from the cold, and you could barely feel your face anymore.

The minute your little snowball fight was over, you realized just how much snow had melted and had managed to get through to your clothes, despite your gloves, scarf and jacket protecting you from most of the cold.

You went back inside, changing into warm clothes, fluffy socks and cuddling up on the couch. You put on a silly movie for some background noise and entertainment, Suguru retrieved the blankets and Satoru prepped hot cocoa, overflowing your mugs with way too many mini marshmallows, offering to ‘help’ either one of you if you thought there were too many for you to eat- how kind of him.

You sat in between the two men, knees pulled up and neatly tucked under the blanket. You barely registered the movie you put on, too busy getting warmed up and enjoying the serenity and pure happiness you felt in that moment.

…making all kinds of plans, only to spend most of the holiday resting and chilling.

There were things that had to be done: some household chores as well as work, and there were some things that you wanted to do for fun. Going to visit a new shopping center nearby, explore some city sights you hadn’t had the chance to. You wanted to go out on some dates, go for long walks enjoying the winter landscapes, relax, not worry and stress too much. There was work to be done, but work would always be there, and opportunities to relax and do fun things were scarce, especially in periods where the three of you were available.

Suguru is a go with the flow kind of person, so he’s happy to tag along to whatever plans you make. Satoru however, is like a kid in a candy store when there is suddenly a lot of free time on your hands, and he is on the couch with his laptop in no time, ready to order tickets to anything you wanna visit, booking trips, and talking about so many plans you wonder out loud where he thinks he’s going to find the time to do all that.

The fact that you finally can relax makes all the plans seem exciting though, and initially you are 100% behind Satoru, adding on suggestions, sending him links and scrolling on your phone, doing additional research for a lot of the places and activities he suggests. You do listen to Suguru who suggests only really booking things when you’re sure you can go do it, when timing, planning, transport, other plans and your energy levels are all aligned and allow you to do the activity.

He turns out to be the voice of reason, cause all three of you have such a hard time getting up in the morning, finally getting to sleep in (and it’s quite hard getting up when you’re in someone else's arms, comfortable and warm).

Chores -unless really necessary- get postponed, plans get cancelled. Instead you stay in, watching silly movies, and finally catching up on the latest series you really wanted to watch. You go on walks together, exploring your own neighborhood and stopping at restaurants you haven’t had the chance to try out yet. You focus all your time and effort on quality time and enjoying the time all three of you have together. And you very quickly realize that truly, you do not need to have big and exciting plans to make the most of your winter break.

… sharing a bed, because it is ‘cold’ outside.

You leave your windows open at night, because it’s healthier, and you don’t like feeling all stuffy in the morning. There is a certain charm about entering a cold room and snuggling underneath the warm blankets, warming up as you fall asleep, and waking up in your own little warm cocoon. Especially if you have no further responsibilities that day, your blankets keeping you trapped in bed on a cold winter day, sleeping in.

It is a little less exciting though when the temperatures drop abruptly, and the room is not nice and chilly, but actually is freezing when you go in. You are shivering when you get changed, and your blankets just don’t feel right. Your feet might as well be blocks of ice in your warm, fuzzy, socks.

It only takes a few minutes of tossing and turning before you decide you need to get a better source of heat in your bed. Or a bed, doesn’t necessarily matter which one.

So you wrap yourself in a blanket, carefully closing the door behind you, and shuffle your way through the dark hallway, only to find Satoru -your current target- standing in the hallway, mirroring yourself with his blanket wrapped around you as well.

“It’s too cold in my room”, is the only thing you can blurt out as an explanation, feeling the overwhelming need to explain, even though that’s not necessary. He just nods in acknowledgement, and you need no further words between the two of you to know what the next step is.

Suguru is already peacefully asleep in a room that’s colder than the rest of the house, but not freezing temperature. Leave it to him to actually properly figure out when to open and close the windows in his room to reach maximum oxygen and the best possible temperature to still be able to snuggle underneath the blankets without risking to freeze overnight.

Suguru is a quiet sleeper, almost too silent, and you worry you might have woken him up by opening his door. But you didn’t; he merely stirs in his sleep, lips parting in a quiet sigh, hand moving up a little to lay on top of the raven hair that’s splayed upon his pillow.

You are both as quiet as possible when you enter, Suguru only waking up when you both slip into the bed to either side of him, piling your blankets on top of him and snuggling close. There is a brief moment of surprise, followed by a very sleepy nod of acknowledgement. All three of you take a little time to adjust to three people in the bed, and it’s not entirely sure whose limbs are entangling with who, but it doesn’t matter as you can already feel your body relaxing the second you find a comfortable position.

Your eyelids grow heavy while you hear Suguru and Satoru quietly converse in the background. You squeeze an arm that is around you, a quiet way of saying goodnight.

…feeling warm, no matter the temperature. Because you are safe. You are loved.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x gojo x reader #satosugu #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #polyam #winter fic #holiday fic #reader insert #second person #GN reader #secret santa #fluff #humor #cosy #jjk reader insert

66 notes · View notes