call me ji | 20| she/her| latina| primarily write about anime cross-post on ao3 and wattpad @armoredtitanmistress

23 posts

IMPORTANT!!

IMPORTANT!!

Rewriting the most recent update. Honestly, reallly disappointed with my writing on this one and the plot. I’ll still leave it up until I finish rewriting it but it’s just a heads up. Also want to preface I won’t completely change it but there will be things removed/added.


More Posts from Armoredtitanmistress

8 months ago

Hey...How Y'all Doin'...

SORRY FOR THE HAITUS! A lot of stuff has happened in my life since my last update (all good, trust).

I just finished my last final for community college and got my associates degree in English! Therefore, the past few months have been dedicated to me trying to pass all my classes. I'm also transferring to my dream university (hint: Oppenheimer and Chris Pine) in the Fall to get my bachelor's so the likelihood of me being able to update any of my stories is going to be even harder. However, I still love all the stories I've written and want to write at least two more chapters of SLWNH before I leave and then I'll update more if I have time in between.

That being said, Chapter 8 is being written and I know that this chapter is worth the wait, trust.

Thank you all for your support!

CHAPTER 7

Chapter 7 is dropping at 2:22 PST! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

 | | Friends With Benefits

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| friends with benefits

 | | Friends With Benefits

characters: toji fushiguro x gojo!reader, toji zenin x gojo!reader

summary: an initial "date" leads to an agreement that you weren't expecting to fall into.

tags: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, symbolism (?), NO SMUT (bare with me y'all you will get it eventually! next chapter ;) strangers to friends to ?, fluff, Yuki as your self-proclaimed wing woman, exorcising curses, jealous toji, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!

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 | | Friends With Benefits

The “date” was set to be in 3 days. Not much communication has been happening between them in that time frame: no messages and no visits to the garden. The most recent message would’ve been the day he had sent that daunting text where you’d ridicule him for being so bombastic and him deciding the plans for the “date” without your input.

Friday, 8 pm at The Turnover in Roppongi.

That was all he had given you and when you tried to ask for details of his “itinerary” he went radio silent. It was the day of the “date” and even then he hadn’t responded. Nonetheless, you couldn’t worry about the vagueness or the “date” at all. No, you had to preoccupy your thoughts with the idea of a curse, with a disfigured metamorphic-looking bird body with hands and feet that looked like talons and a waning expression on its face, that was hanging upside down on a rustic exposed pipe in what would have been the lobby of a hotel. 

The mission was pitched to you by one of the higher-ups like most missions are. They say it’s something and then it turns out to be something else. In this situation in particular the curse was supposed to be a Semi-Grade 2 at most. You had to have been 20 feet outside of the semi-salvaged hotel that, on top of a mountain that you assumed used to be a popular tourist spot, harbored the curse when you felt the energy was 5 times the amount of energy a Semi-Grade 2 curse should have.  Not enough energy to be considered a Special Grade but too much to be a Grade 1. It had to be a Special Grade 1.

“Saaveee the biiird! Leet me saavee the biird mama!”

This curse was a manifestation of a child who died trying to save a bird, that was obvious enough. It’s not rare for children to be higher-graded curses but it is certainly uncommon. The child or the loved ones must have had a surplus enough negative energy to have manifested to be this strong. It goes to show how something once so pure can become corroded in a blink of an eye. The curse was not an intelligent curse from the repetition of those two sentences. That made the job easier and be it as it may you would have exorcized the curse without alerting anyone given how secluded the location was but to be extra precautious you put up a veil.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure." You recited from memory having had to put up many veils in your lifetime. Traditionally, the handler that oversaw the mission would be responsible for putting up veils but per the shortage of sorcerers, they allocated handlers to lower-ranking sorcerers. Out of courtesy, they did assign you a driver to transport you to and fro but they weren’t allowed to stay as that was outside the strobe of their occupation. If you had a complaint about this, you could direct it toward the higher-ups and the graves of the befallen. 

“Let’s make this quick, you’ve been suffering long enough.” You announced the curse in vain as if it would even comprehend/respond to your words. It did react to them by leaping from the pipe toward your direction with their talons retracted ready to swipe at your body. Though it did have talons for hands and feet and had the overall appearance of a bird species it couldn’t fly. All it was using was the momentum from the leap and had you been a second too slow in reacting or hadn’t been gifted the ability of Infinity you would’ve easily been left scarred. You had dodged it with ease and appeared behind it, a perk of the Limitless technique being instantaneous movement. 

“No need for theatrics.” You ridiculed in between dodges as it continued to make advances towards you and contemplated how to exorcise it. It had to have been 5 pm and the location of where you were was an hour away from the school and Roppongi was an additional 22 minutes away from that. That’s not including the report you would need to submit. To have enough time to get everything done, you need to end this now. 

You lifted your forefinger as you concentrated your cursed energy into a ball at the tip of your finger and redirected it toward the curse. It was a technique that had taken countless attempts to perfect as the essence of its power was based on precision. You found irony in that as it was by far the ultimate tool for destruction. For a prodigy, learning/mastering the technique should have come easily but the branch that would’ve classified you as a prodigy broke the moment you opened your eyes, and the glow of the genius in your blue eyes was absent. You couldn’t use Hollow Purple or activate your Infinity to be used 24/7. Strip away everything that built up your identity and you’d be left with nothing. 

 “Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.” 

Like that, you were left with a blood-stained floor and a dismembered cursed body. Based on the strength of the curse, it had to have manifested recently. If it were a few years older and had enough experience you were sure it would’ve put more of a fight. At max, it had to have been 6 months old. A long time for a child to be left suffering.

You didn’t try to linger any longer so you pulled your phone out to contact your driver and saw that you had been inside for less than 10 minutes. When you walk outside of the building and put down the barrier the car is already there. 

The driver opened the door for you before eliciting an array of praises, “Another amazing job, Gojo! I hadn’t even reached the bottom of the mountain before you called! You’re truly incredible!” 

What’s so amazing about anything about this career? Why praise me for this? You thought to yourself and made it a point to not reply. It’s the people who understand nothing about this career that would reward you with praise. What would a non-cursor user know about risking your life for people you don’t even care for? You became a hero archetype due to genetics not out of morality.

The driver got the hint and remained silent for the majority of the ride and you were appreciative of that. You didn’t even know their name or what they looked like due to how conservative the interactions had been. You spoke only when he asked about your destination. You spent the trip trying to articulate your report and let the thought of the exiled Zenin remain rooted in the backseat of your train of thought.

The driver dropped you off and sped off in a hurry, you shrugged and began walking toward the meeting room to give your report but saw a familiar blonde woman walking from that exact direction. You had done well in avoiding social interaction all day, you wanted to conserve your social energy and you knew she was going to drain you dry. 

“Gojo!” She had caught sight of you before you even had the chance to escape. You let your shoulders drop in defeat and waited for the women to reach you. “Coming back from a mission?” 

You let out a grunt in response as you began walking away. You truly hated small talk. Scratch that, you hated all kinds of talks. You especially hated talks with Yuki Tsukumo, your forced-upon “best friend.” After high school. you spoke with her only when you saw her and you’ve blocked her number on multiple occasions. Yuki was used to your lackluster replies and took your noise as an answer.

She had something she needed to tell you but she couldn’t remember it at the moment so as she tried to rummage through her vault of memories she decided to trail behind you and try to strike up a conversation which again was met with noises on your end. At a certain point, you checked your phone to check the time and saw it was already 6 and started to speed up. The blonde being perspective as ever noticed and gasped. That woman was dramatic and usually wrong in her assumptions but this scenario just so happened to align with her delusions.

“You’re meeting someone!” She exclaimed, somehow appearing in front of you and managing to stop you in your tracks.

You were wishing on a star that your cheeks hadn’t combusted in flames at her assumptions as you asserted with a false narrative, “You’re insane. I simply want to be done with the day and not deal with you.”

It was 6 pm, the stars hadn’t clocked in for their shift while the biggest was just starting to clock out. Your cheeks were ablaze and Yuki was soaking in the expression and the implications of it.

She shook your shoulders and exclaimed a little too loud, “Oh my god, it is a date!”

You slammed your hand on her mouth while you tried looking around to see if anyone was around to hear her. Once you saw the school looked to be barren of any human life, you decided to play it safe and pull her to a secluded place behind one of the buildings to continue the conversation. Removing your hand off her mouth, you began to speak, “It’s not a date and keep your voice down. If the wrong person hears that I’d be crucified.” 

In your classification of “wrong person”, it would be anyone who wasn’t you or Yuki. Your ring finger was a hot commodity in the community so if word got out that you were seeing someone. Well, you’d rather not imagine it too much.

She ignored the latter and focused on the former as she pointed to your red cheeks,  “You wouldn’t be that red if it wasn’t a date.”

“Because it’s not.”

She raised an eyebrow at you and asked, “Is that what the guy said?”

She got you there.

You gave up on trying to deny her claims and just began to comply. You felt like a little kid who had just got caught terrorizing the corridor walls with permanent markers and now was being interrogated for it. It was even more humiliating having been interrogated by none other than that woman. I never met her but based on how you described her she reminds me of someone else I know.

You let out a noise of denial and she sighed at that. “If he says it’s a date then it’s a date. Seems pretty straightforward to me.” The blonde-haired woman insisted, shrugging before relaxing her body against the wall of the building. “Men don’t have the mental capabilities to be that complex. If they are, it’s because they are stupid not because they are by any means smart.”

You mimicked her actions before huffing out a response, “If he says anything at all it should be taken with a grain of salt.”

“Hmm, you should stop giving everything double-meaning and start taking stuff for face value, Gojo. It will save you a lot of headaches in the future.” She suggested with no actual bias towards her words. 

Perhaps it would and you should start giving people the benefit of the doubt. “I would if he was worth taking at face value. That man doesn’t have an ounce of seriousness in him.” Just not today or any other day. Maybe that suggestion would work for somebody else.

“Maybe I would agree if you told me who this mystery man was.” Yuki quipped, for no reason to help and all the reason to be nosey in your love life. She has asked you time and time again what your type is. She has guessed every kind of generic person under the sun - you would say they were too bland. She would suggest the most mysterious person that countered the moon —- you’d grow irritated and say they are too complex for someone who doesn’t care. She would describe the flashiest man with a charisma so fiery it made the stars pale in comparison —- you grew uninterested and would seek refuge on land. 

“Not important enough to mention.”

Oh, how you’d be eating your words. 

“Boo.” The woman said as she stuck her tongue out at you. She'll get it out of you eventually. Either by your admission or through word of mouth. For now, she resigned her interest in your love interest and signed on to direct your outfit.  She gave you a once over and asked, “What do you plan on wearing?”

You followed her eyes and grew curious at her words, “What do you mean? I’m going like this?”

Outside of your kimonos, which you wore daily, you wore the required Jujutsu uniform. It was tailored to the same fashion of a kimono with a slight modern take; the flared and oversized sleeves, the plunging neckline that would’ve flashed your cleavage modestly if you weren’t wearing a black tank top underneath, a thick black belt that was made to mimic an obi, and a maxi skirt hemline that hardly exposed your feet or ankles. 

The butter-haired woman was left slack-jawed and appalled. Surely, you were kidding. She had to make sure you were.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

You were dressed too modestly to appeal to a modern man. Not that Yuki was one to abide by social stigmas but she needed to help her “friend” get laid. Sure, you were forced on spontaneous adventures with Yuki, all being illegal/irresponsible, but to her knowledge, you were still a virgin. All the blind dates she’d try setting you up on would result in her getting a text from the guy asking for your number since you’d “forgotten” to give it to them. You having any sort of interest in a guy was a miracle and she was going to help in whatever way she could.

“Are you free right now?” 

For you? “Not really, no.”

“Great, I still have time.” Her previous question was spoken out of courtesy. From the get-go, she was going to abduct you. She grabbed your arm and turned you around at a speed only a madwoman could achieve. 

You, a loyal abider of rules, were frantically trying to remind her of your duties. “What about my reports?! I have to turn them in before I leave!”

An imaginary light bulb shined over the woman’s head and suddenly the information she was supposed to tell you came rushing in. She gave you a cheeky smile and replied sheepishly, “Oh, forgot to mention. They got caught up with something they left a while ago.”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that!” She was too focused on trying to get to the dorms to reply to you. She didn’t know how much time she had before you had to meet this mystery man but given how eager you were to leave a few minutes ago she knew she was running on a time crunch.

She stopped before her old dorm room and fished her pockets for any tiny object she could use to shimmy her way through the lock. “I’m sure no one has taken over my dorm. I’m sure I left some clothes that you can borrow.”

“Breaking and entering is a great lesson to teach the kids.” You said as you appointed yourself as a lookout. 

Yuki looked at you unamused and countered “We aren’t teachers. We aren’t responsible for whether they see us as moral compasses.” 

It was fair enough but you would never verbally allow yourself to agree with anything Yuki Tsukumo said. Instead, you let her continue to try to unlock the door. Fortunately for you both, it didn’t take long seeing as the doorknob was older than the two of you. 

Unfortunately, Yuki was right again. The dorm appeared to be vacant but held memorabilia that would link the last tenant to the woman standing beside you. Though it was almost barren, the residual pieces of posters that were stuck on the wall via double-sided tape, the school-issued desk that had been painted black because Yuki hated the original color but due to the chipped paint and the poor paint job the original mahogany wood became visible, the latch of the window bolted down by your former principal to keep her from sneaking out; all of this remained visible. Neither one of you was the type to reminisce or get nostalgic over stuff like this. For that reason, Yuki made a beeline toward her old closet that was filled with a good selection of clothes; all of which were appropriate for a night out. Dresses that left little to the imagination, skirts that could cover half of a person’s ass at best, shirts that bordered undergarments, weapons that traditionally are called heels; any article of clothing you thought following those descriptions are most likely there. 

While Yuki rummaged through her clothes, she asked, “So where is he taking you? A dingy bar? Crappy movie? Dinner at a supposed 4-star restaurant with decent appetizers at best?” 

Every scenario felt specific and had you wondering how many bad dates that woman had been on. While she was sorting through her clothes, you made the risky choice of sitting on her old bed, praying that it wasn’t infested by any sort of bed bug. “Some restaurant in Roppongi. I think it’s called The Turnover. I haven’t heard of the place before.” You answered with your tone sounding departed from the conversation as you turned your head from side to side trying to inspect the bed for any bugs. When you feel a sensation making contact with your hand, you almost yelped expecting to see a tiny bug but instead, you were met with a tube top that grazed your hand. You look up to see the woman gazing at you as if you had grown two heads. 

“He is taking you to The Turnover? The most exclusive restaurant in all of Japan?! That’s the kind of place where rich people wear sweatpants if they want to.” The blonde explained in awe. 

This was new information for you but it must’ve not been riveting as you asked, gesturing to your clothes, “So I could go like this?”

“Are you rich by any chance?” You chose to remain quiet. The Gojo were wealthy but not on a global scale where other rich people would know who you are. 

She smirks at your lack of response and begins to narrow down potential options for you. Be it as it may, she did want you to be comfortable in what you wore; however, she did want to briefly and very briefly cross that line. Nothing too crazy and nothing you weren’t already familiar with. It was difficult to find an option from all of the clothing pieces she had but she landed on a true black sleeveless maxi dress that had gorgeous ruffled hems that laid asymmetrically on the lower half of the dress while it had an identical singular ruffled fabric piece dangling on top of the right arm; alongside that the waistline had sophisticated ruching that was certainly going to suction your figure in. She didn’t throw them at you like the dress but she did hand you a pair of black point-toe slingback pumps that had a decorative bow. As for a purse, she just handed you a black suede clutch seeing it’s the only sort of bag that was left in her closet. It was the perfect mix of classy and sexy.  It was an outfit that a femme fatale in a noir film would wear to a dinner she’d treat herself to after exploiting a man for all he has. 

She threw the dress in your face and demanded, “This. Put it on.”

You didn’t have time to argue with the woman. You could see from the dim of the sun that slightly permeated through the minimal openings of the blinds that it was nearing 7. You also didn’t bother to tell her to turn around when you started to take off your clothes and neither did she. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. 

As expected, the dress fits you. Though the original furniture was left in the dorm, there had been an absence of a mirror. From observing your figure with your eyes alone, you knew this was out of your comfort zone. All you had to go off was Yuki’s look of content at her work. 

“I didn’t leave any makeup or jewelry behind so this is the best I can do with what we have.” She surmised before glancing at her phone to check the time. “Is he picking you up or are you meeting there?”

“He didn’t mention much of anything. He just gave me the date, time, and place. I’m assuming we are meeting up there at 8.”

She let out a sigh of relief as it was 7:15 and the drive to Roppongi wasn’t much of a long one from the school. 

“Fortunately for you, I’m free for the rest of the day. I’ll take you on my motorcycle.” You paled at her offer but knew she was your only option. If you requested a driver from the school, especially one like the one you just had, there is no doubt in your mind that they would start telling people you were meeting someone. Instead of verbally replying, you dropped your shoulders in defeat and started to walk out of the room with an overly enthusiastic Yuki in tow.

Her motorcycle was in good condition and that did alleviate some fear that you had when it came to riding it. That all came crashing down when you noticed she only had one helmet.

“You aren’t going to wear one? Isn’t that illegal? What if you get stopped?” 

She had been getting ready to sit on the seat when she quirked an eyebrow towards you and asked, “What? Do you want me to wear it instead?”

“Die for all I care.” You responded as you started to place the helmet on your head. It was a foreign feeling to have to wear something like that and it was bordering discomfort but better to be uncomfortable than dead. After securing it on your head, you positioned yourself behind her and made sure to hold onto her waist for dear life. 

The woman chuckled at your response/actions but didn’t provide a retort. Instead, she revved up the engine, made sure to adjust her mirrors, and saw that everything was working fine before taking off. You were half-expecting her to be an erratic driver with no regard for pedestrians but even you could give this woman her flowers when they were deserved; she drove the speed limit, was cautious of other drivers, and managed to get you to the restaurant with 10 minutes to spare.

“Thank you for the ride. How much do you want for the gas money?” You asked as you began to pull out your wallet from your clutch. She cut you off as she fished out a small package from her jacket and gestured it towards you.

“No need. Just accept this and consider it even.” It was a pack of condoms. She had driven off and left you with a pack of condoms in the most affluent neighborhood in all of Japan. Fortunately, you had shoved them into your clutch before anyone took notice of the obscene “gift.” 

Previously, your back was facing away from the restaurant, and having turned to start walking towards it you understood why Yuki was in shock when you told her this was the place you were going. Having been thrown off by the condoms, you were now viewing the building for the first time. In all honesty, you are expecting a 3-star restaurant at best. Not a sky-rise restaurant that had passersby admiring the building from afar and not daring to get anywhere near it. If you hadn’t been invited you would’ve flocked to their side as well.

You took a deep breath to ground yourself but before you were about to enter through the automatic window-fashioned doors a whistle sounded behind you. Usually, you would’ve ignored that kind of unwanted attention but you heard familiar footsteps approach you and simply turned around to face your “date” for the night who was taking his time in appreciating your appearance. He had thought you were attractive in your kimonos but seeing you outside of traditional Japanese clothing. He was having trouble not letting his eyes wander to every part of your body that was being sucked in by the dress's fabric. If you had given him the opportunity, he would’ve had you bent over in a nearby alleyway as he drilled into you with every insatiable amount of energy he had.

While he did his lookover, you did the same for him. He traded in his compression shirt for a black dress shirt that could very well have been made with the same fit as one, a matching black tie and black tapered slacks. You had to make a conscious effort to not gulp at the sight of him. 

“Got all dressed up for our date? I’m honored you put in the effort. You’re truly living up to your nickname, doll.” He teased as toyed with the piece of ruffled fabric that dangled off your shoulder. 

“Not a date.” You affirmed, slapping his hand away from the fabric and reminding him, “You would’ve known that if you took the time to check my messages. I was promised a nice meal and that’s what I’m here for. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I was busy trying to secure you this meal. The payout for this job was hefty so eat to your heart's content. I’m not one to let a woman pay for a meal.” He could practically see you begin to salivate at the implication of unlimited free food. 

As you entered the building, you both were met with a societally attractive man dressed in a black suit standing in front of the elevator leading up to the restaurant with a decently sized podium that had a booklet on top of it hiding the lower half of his body. He had just been done checking in a couple when he noticed you approach the podium and his pupils practically shaped themselves to be hearts.

“Do you have a reservation tonight, ma’am?” The man asked, clearly excluding Toji from the interaction. Rather than feeling offended by this, he was amused. He wanted to see how audacious this man could be.

“Yes, a reservation for two.” You caught on to this as well and made sure to emphasize the “two” but the host didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. He acknowledged Toji with an antagonistic gaze that tettered into almost provoking territory. Toji lifted a brow at this and instead of backing down the man seemed to take it as him challenging him.

“I see. What would your name be?” The man asked as he tried to be suave in his delivery but saw you to be unaffected. He coughed and caught himself, “For the reservation.”

“You won’t need it. The reservation isn’t under my name.” 

Having had enough of his fill, Toji stepped in. He wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was second nature for him and leaned forward over your shoulder to respond for you, “Toji Zenin.”

The man visibly deflated and directed you to the elevator behind you, “Right, of course. You guys can go through there and another host will seat you when you arrive.”

You nodded your head and walked ahead of Toji, who bumped shoulders with the host and whispered in the guy's ear, “Eyes shouldn’t be looking at shit that ain’t yours, kid. You wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman like that.”

Though you heard none of what was said, you did watch the host tense from the interaction and Toji walked into the elevator looking smug.

You saw his face smeared with absolute pride and had to interrogate him about the cause, “I don’t even want to guess what you told the poor guy.” 

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, “Just told the kid he should get his eyes checked.”

You gave him an unimpressed look and corrected him, “Kid? He had to be around our age.”

He pouted like one of those easily angered mutts and barked, “Don’t care.”

When the elevator doors opened, you were greeted by another host. This one was much older than the one downstairs and also a man but seemed to have a far more professional aura to him seeing as he acknowledged the both of you and didn’t bother with unnecessary small talk.

He gave you a set of menus and sat you both in the balcony section which overlooked the whole of Roppongi, it was breathtaking and truly a view only the best of money could buy. 

“What do you say? Does this view beat the garden?” He asked in jest as he took notice of how entranced you had become in the scenery. Your evergreens were replaced with industrialized buildings and skyscrapers but it illuminated the stars so heavenly you had to verbally appreciate them in their honor.

You held a gaze to the stars that you were used to observing from the comfort of your garden. “It comes a close second but nothing comes close to those asymmetrical hedges that you cut.” Though only the location changed, they appeared to be far more extravagant than they usually were. 

“You gave me some pathetic excuse for hedge trimmers. Blame the machinery.” He defended before diverting his attention to the menu and you soon followed in tow.

As you were skimming through the hard-to-pronounce menu options, you began to wonder. Is this the place where he takes all the women he meets? It was a wandering thought you had when he first invited you out but now being in the restaurant it felt different. You weren’t curious out of insecurity or for the need to feel special. You just wanted new teasing material seeing as he had so much on you. Not tearing your eyes away from the Farro Mafaldine, you asked, “So what number does this make me?”

“Huh?” He asked, raising his eyes to meet yours.

You held contact wanting to gauge his answer more so on his expression than his words, “You’ve taken women here before, no? What number does that make me?”

His green eyes watched as your blue ones anticipated his words. He closed his menu, having already decided on a pasta variant, and answered truthfully, “Consider yourself lucky. You’d be the first. Never even been to this place before. It was recommended to me by someone I know.” 

You could retell this story to me millions of times — rework the narrative, sprinkle in additional information, hell even reinvent the story altogether. Though this man has lied about minuscule and pointless things, I chose to believe this version of the story.

You hid your surprise well as you cleared your throat to mask any emotion while letting your eyes graze seek asylum in the menu as you decided the Farro Mafaldine seemed less appetizing now, “Just know I’m not completely sold but because you are paying I’m inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“If that’s all it takes, let’s start planning our next date.” There he goes, referring to it as a date. It was almost taunting from your perspective. It was either his way or no way is how you described him to me.

The host from earlier approaches with a pen and pad in hand, and you let the topic die out. The only meal you had was breakfast but it was reduced in size because you shared it with Satoru. You needed food and fast food.

On top of a dim ambiance and stellar view, the food came out with efficiency and tasted like ambrosia. I never considered you a drinker, but you described that dinner to be on the night you had drunk far too many. The rest of the dinner was surprisingly pleasant. The usual urge to cut an outing short wasn’t present and you enjoyed being able to converse freely with him. For the most part, the conversation was driven by the prompt of 20 questions. It was all basic questions that you would know about someone — favorite color, favorite movie, favorite song, etc. A few flirty exchanges but you blamed the two cups of red wine and Toji’s natural personality for that. The night would continue even after Toji had paid for the meal as you both wandered through the streets of Roppongi.

While walking aimlessly, you happened to stumble upon a Hinokicho park that was devoid of both people and artificial lighting. All there was to illuminate the park was the radiance of the moon and stars which led you to a pond that was hidden amongst cedar and pagoda trees. 

“Wanna do something fun?” Toji asked as he watched a cast of light from the night sky appear in between the ripples of water.

You genuinely didn’t feel like letting the night end so the proposal to prolong it sounded appealing.

 “Like what?”

“Ever been skinny dipping?” 

On second thought. 

“W-What? Do you want to do that right now? What if someone sees?” He was impressed that you were more concerned about being seen by other people than by him. If you didn’t want to get undressed that was fine with him, he had an adrenaline that was fueled by the alcohol he had been drinking throughout the dinner and he needed it to be released somehow. He started to tug his tie loose, tossing it aside as he prepared to unbutton his dress shirt too, he said,  “Not much of an exhibitionist, are you? Guess I had you all wrong that night.”

“I’m cautious of my image.” You mumbled out as you wrapped your arms around yourself regretting the choice to wear a sleeveless dress. Though you mumbled he heard you along with the ringing of the cicadas and was confident in his rebuttal.

“No one is here. Let alone anyone who knows either of us. It’s just you and me.”

His words weren’t meant to soothe you, he was just stating a fact. Even if they were meant for that, it only made you all the more nervous. Especially when he had finished unbuttoning his shirt and taken off the undershirt his abs were out on full display. You had an image of how the upper half of his body would look due to his usual tight-fitted shirts but to see that image become true was something you never thought you would ever see. You saw his hand drift to his belt and you made the conscious choice to turn away from him. 

Wrong move. 

“I hope you know that doesn’t make it any better.” You heard his belt buckle unfasten and his pants drop and you were beginning to start to cash in another favor from the stars hoping this one would be tangible.

Even with your guard as indomitable as it had been, you somehow felt a breath graze your neck and the sensation of his hands ghosting on either side of your waist, you could sense the mischief in his tone as he spoke,  “Not supposed to but it should make you less mad at me.” 

“Mad at you?” His hands latched onto your sides and pulled your back into his chest as he began to walk backward to the pond, “No no don’t – Toji!” The stars were in dire need of entertainment and you had been failing to provide any for some time now. They considered this as a form of compensation. Trust, they twinkled as you bobbed your head from out of the water. 

The boisterous laughs of Toji bounced off the trees as he was doubled over at your appearance. The pond was 4ft at most yet you had managed to get drenched given how you’d fallen in. You may not have been naked but might as well have been. Your dress had already been form-fitted so with the mix of water it simply suctioned in anything that hadn’t been before like your undergarments. Your white hair melts into your skin and your suede pumps imprint an uncomfortable sensation on your feet. 

You yelled as you shivered from the added coldness of water that tattooed itself onto your body, “You asshole! I’m freezing!”

The man composed himself before answering you, “You wanted fun. That’s me making you have fun.”

“What about that was fun?! Look at me I’m all wet and you’re—“ It seems you would finally come to and take notice of the naked man in front of you that was allowing you and all of the surrounding nature to bear witness to his body. The Heavenly Pact held its end of the agreement and gifted him a body that would’ve had him confused as a mythological god. 

“You barely realized that I was naked?” He mocked as he soaked your expression of anger that he found himself searching for constantly. 

“Put some clothes on! Aren’t you cold?!” You exclaimed trying to focus your blue eyes everywhere but his direction.

You imagined he shook his head as he responded, “I’m enjoying the breeze. It’s honestly not that bad out.” Toji was desensitized to people seeing him naked. The multiple one-night stands and overall lack of care for self-image aided in his comfort in being nude. 

“I don’t care if you’re enjoying it! I don’t want to see all that!” You said using your forearm to block him from your view.

“Putting on clothes defeats the purpose of skinny dipping.” He reminded you while he leaned his body against a decently sized rock and rested his eyes, “Just relax and stop thinking.”

Stop thinking. First Yuki and now him. He seemed so tranquil and it couldn’t hurt to do the same, right? The alcohol haze could contribute to your daringness but your hand had unsuspectingly traveled to the zipper on your back and began to zip it off of you. It was stuck to your body and you had to put in extra work to take it off but when it did you placed the dress on a nearby rock that was further away from the one Toji was leaning against. The chill from earlier became much more prominent but the adrenaline was overcoming all your senses. 

If he hadn’t decided to open his eyes as a result of the water splashing your movements had made when you were beginning to take off your bra, you would’ve gained the confidence to take it off. He was aware of this due to your fingers that were heading toward the clasp of your black bra. Toji has seen different variations of bras— lacey, sheer, heavily padded, animal print, etc. It was a bra that he had taken off of women who didn’t do anything for him usually; however, he cursed himself for opening his eyes when he did. He immediately closed his eyes to pretend he hadn’t seen anything in hopes of you gaining courage.  A small wave of water splashed against his chest and he resigned himself to his plan.

“Nice try.”

He opened his eyes in defeat and allowed his gaze to be known on your figure. The shiver that coursed through you was something you blamed the weather and his viridescent eyes registered it to be the cause of that too.  He slid over to create a vacant space while extending his hand in a come over here gesture. 

“If you keep standing there, you might freeze over with the pond.” He explained noticing your hesitance.

“I’m fine.” You affirmed trying your best to not wrap your arms around yourself. “Besides I doubt too wet bodies are going to produce any body heat.”

“Doll, you’re a sorcerer, not a scientist. The combination of our body heat should be enough to keep you from freezing.” He countered as he left his hand extended and laughed when you ignored it but took up the vacant spot. You left a distance between the two of you and he scoffed, “You gotta get closer for it to work, you know.”

“I can feel it just fine from over here.” You retorted and instead of you getting closer to him, he got closer to you. He saw you were about to protest but intervened before you could.

“You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” You said feigning innocence. 

“Thinking.” He replied as he wrapped an arm around your bare shoulders to secure you in place and you indeed did stop thinking at that very moment. You’ve been close to Toji before but never close enough to feel his bare chest against your cheek.

You shifted your head to lay on his collarbones instead and countered, “One of us has to do it because you sure as hell won’t. When was the last time you ever thought something through?”

He lived life pretty mindlessly and without consequence. Job offers weren’t up for debate— money is money. Going to see you in the garden was muscle memory and a force of habit. This direction that this date had taken was entirely on instinct rather than planning.  He thought about it for a moment before answering, “2 years ago, probably. When I left the clan.”

You took the “stop thinking” into consideration and immersed yourself in the conversation without worry, “It’s already been 2 years? I guess I should say congratulations on being able to survive thus far.”

You could feel the huff he let out resonating against your cheek, “You congratulate people who win awards or perform civil duties, not men like me who kill for a living.”

You didn’t disagree, “Fair but it must have been difficult having to adjust to that lifestyle, no? It is something to be impressed by.”

He didn’t want to stay on the topic and instead found salvation in the stars that had been aiding him throughout the night, “Whatever. How about you and those stars?”

“What about them?” You felt yourself smile at the opportunity to speak about them to someone. 

“I always see you looking at them. Got any kind of shitty explanation like you did with the flowers? Gonna tell me that they are the center of the universe or something?” He mocked in jest but the smile on your face remained regardless.

You sighed out in admiration, “I always found myself relating to them.”

“Kind of narcissistic to compare yourself to the stars, doll.” He joked.

“And it seems narcissistic to keep thinking you have a chance with me, Toji,” You returned and he allowed you to continue your spiel, “What I mean is people acknowledge them at face value. Yes, they are beautiful; yes, they shine brightly but what about their stories? Constellations have stories but what about the individual stars that make up those constellations?” 

You weren’t expecting him to understand your comparison. In the same way that he didn’t understand your flower analogy. You thought maybe it was a bit narcissistic to compare yourself to the same caliber as a star. However, it would seem he understood this analogy completely as he replied, “Hmm, I guess that makes some sense.”

Somehow the conversation diverted after that. You assumed it was because you spoke too much and your spiel was a little too corny. Regardless of what it was, you enjoyed the freezing pond and the man-made heater for another hour before you began to deem it too late. Toji hadn’t tried anything and remained respectful of your boundaries, understanding that you were in a vulnerable state. You also didn’t make an effort to remove yourself from him for the duration of your time inside of the pond. You hated to admit it to me but you enjoyed the comfort of being in his arms. 

Your dress was still completely drenched and you were beginning to panic at the thought of having to leave half-nude. The thought was fleeting as you felt a piece of fabric drape over your shoulders– it was Toji’s overshirt. It smelled just like him — raisin rum with an intoxicating hint of cologne. You turned to face him to see him already nearly dressed. All that was left was putting on his undershirt which he was in the middle of putting on. You watched as he looped his arms and his head through the holes and then took sight of you.

If you weren’t so stubborn to retell this portion of the story, you would’ve admitted that he smiled at you; however, you said it was an apparition of a distant smile, “Looks good on you. You should keep it.”

He approaches you and starts to button the shirt up for you. His fingers, though so scarred and rough, ghosted your skin mercifully. He buttoned nearly all of them minus the top one and huffed in contentment.

“Don’t need other people looking at what’s mine.” He states and anticipates your retaliation.

You laughed at his words and pushed him away, “Someone is going to overhear you one day and start making false assumptions about our relationship.”

He raised a brow and challenged, “Yeah? And what is our relationship? Friends with benefits?”

“That would imply that there were benefits.” You replied as you began to walk towards the section of the dry land that you had left your belongings in.

“There could be. You’re still a virgin. Don’t you want to lose it to someone who isn’t some Zenin or Kamo scum?” He suggested as he followed closely in toe.

“Need I remind you that you are still a Zenin and are very scummy.” You retaliate, not at all taking the conversation seriously and trying to collect all your belongings.

He ignored your comment and almost began to plead, “Seriously, think about it. It’s a win-win. You get laid by someone experienced and who you know and I get to fuck a really hot chick.”

“You swoon me with your words.” 

“You keep denying your attraction to me but I know the way you look at me. It’s not a friendly gaze.” It was his signature phrase when trying to convince you to admit your attraction to him. He needed you to know that he was serious about this arrangement and that he wasn’t going to take no until you heard him out. 

And he did just that. You felt yourself gulp and slowed your movements in gathering your belongings, “Oh yeah? And what kind of look would that be?”

“Like you want me to bend you over.” He said with a sultry consonance to his voice. “No need to feel ashamed because trust I want to do the same to you. Maybe even worse.”

You didn’t deny his accusations nor acknowledge them. You let it be up to interpretation but you both knew better.  

Ultimately, you sighed in defeat because, in all honesty, you didn’t want to lose it to someone you were arranged to marry especially to a relative of Toji’s. On the slim chance that you develop feelings for the man you are supposed to marry, it might benefit you to know what to do. Okay, maybe that was pushing it but the offer didn’t sound entirely bad. 

“Hypothetically, if this were to happen. Where would we do it? Though I love my garden, I am not entirely keen on outdoor sex.” You asked, finally facing the man who looked like a dog wagging his tail from side to side.

“Easy, we’ll do it at my place.” He rapid-fired as if he had the answer locked and loaded.

“Sure, that would work. Next, let’s set some boundaries and non-negotiables. If one of us disagrees with the other’s non-negotiable or if we both agree and the other dishonors it the whole thing is called off, deal?” You reasoned and knew this fantasy would not last past your first non-negotiable but Toji was resilient. “Luckily for you, I only have one.”

He nodded his head, “Shoot.” 

“My only non-negotiable is neither of us can fuck other people.”  You smirked as you saw his expression falter from the previous excited one and you continued, “We can go on dates, flirt with other people, and even kiss other people. However, neither one of us can fuck other people. If I find out you fucked another woman then this whole thing is over. Think you can handle that, womanizer?”

“You play dirty, doll.” He enjoyed fucking and disliked being tied down to something but he was willing to try. The idea of you flirting and kissing other men wasn’t a pleasant one and the idea of you fucking someone other than him irritated him to no end. You were an extremely attractive woman and there were plenty of men that would want to let you know that. Toji wasn’t insecure by this, no, he just knew if he saw that he’d—we’ll get to those stories eventually. “My non-negotiable is that we have to tell each other if we are meeting other people.”

You found that reasonable enough and nodded in agreement. As you were talking you managed to pick up all your belongings which weren’t much, just your dress and your clutch. You walked up to him and extended your hand, “Shake on it?”

He glanced at your hand and watched as his viridescent eyes darkened as they set camp on your lips, he suggested, “How about we seal the deal with a kiss? Makes for good practice.”

Though you were aware he was doing it to fulfill his selfish desire, his suggestion wasn’t bad. If you were to become friends with benefits, kissing comes with the territory and that’s by far the least daunting aspect of the whole arrangement.

You nodded again as you lowered your hand before taking a deep breath and telling him—-even though it felt like it was directed more toward yourself, “Practice. This is just practice. Don’t want you pulling anything, got it Zenin”

“Yes ma’am” is all he said before you felt his lips on yours and a hand resting in the conjugation of your neck and jaw. It wasn’t a peck nor was it a make out, it was a kiss. You were caught off guard by the new sensation and didn’t know how to react to it. All you knew is you didn’t mind it and that whatever he was doing you were trying your best to mimic it which you did earning you the sensation of feeling Toji’s scarred lips smirk into the kiss.

You pulled away but he spoke first.

“Not bad for your first kiss, doll.”

“Shut up.”

From afar, the kiss could be confused as a couple sharing a passionate kiss underneath the night sky basking in the nature that encapsulates their moment perfectly. 

The stars twinkled in glee and as I retell this I secretly do too.

--------------------

soliloquy: an act of speaking one's thoughts when by or regardless of any , especially by a character in a play.

sorry for the late update! was recently my birthday and I spent the week celebrating so kind of forgot to post lmao.

——————

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Possibly will upload Chapter 5 on Thursday! Sorry for not uploading last week! I decided to write this chapter to be longer to make up for that.

 | | Forgotten Gems (18+ MDNI)

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| forgotten gems (18+ MDNI)

 | | Forgotten Gems (18+ MDNI)

pairings: toji x gojo!reader

summary: your family doesn't understand your value but Toji sure does.

tags/genre: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, symbolism (?), misogyny, satoru being a little brat (are we surprised?), strangers to friends to ?, fluff, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!, original character (Osamu Zenin).

warnings: 6.3k word count, rated M (18+) for language and sexual scenes, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, male dom, fem sub, praise kink, degradation kink (barely), boob play, calls her a slut, handjob (fem and male rec.), teasing (this is toji were are talking about), sweet talk, dirty talk, pet names, semi-edging, cowgirl, safe-sex (they used a condom).

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 | | Forgotten Gems (18+ MDNI)

You had let your guard down. Your mother had informed you about a brunch you had with your father and it did psyche you out. Your father never had a one-on-one with you unless it was business-related. Therefore, your thoughts leading up to the brunch pertained to your father with slight glimpses of that night with Toji.  Your mother had chosen your clothes, usually a cause of alarm but you had been so preoccupied that you didn’t question why she had insisted you wear a pale blue kimono with displaced floral arrangements as the design and to wear your hair up in a bun with silver floral blue hairpin. Extravagant wardrobe choice for a brunch.

You were truly blindsided when instead of seeing your father you were met with a smug Osamu Zenin sitting at the table you were directed to with food already there for you. 

“Gojo, you made it this time. I was expecting to be stood up as per the usual routine that we find ourselves in.” He mocked. Even his appearance reeked of pretentiousness. His relatively long hair was being pushed out of his face and into a low ponytail.

He wore a yukata that was similar in color scheme to your outfit, just a darker shade of blue and devoid of any sort of pattern. His frame came nowhere close to Toji’s. He was slender and had a few developed muscles in his biceps at best. Gesturing to the seat in front of him, he says, “Please take a seat. I paid for all this food and it would be a shame to see it go to waste.”

Osamu Zenin was the perfect man for you. 

A sentence that your mother believed wholeheartedly to be true. In comparison to any other son that Naobito had tried to set you up with, your mother voiced her utmost praise for Osamu. She would surmise him as a younger version of your father, down to the haircut and the personality. Truly what any woman wants a potential suitor to be described as. Among the Zenin clan, he fell under the previously inhabited category of Most Attractive. However, his personality didn’t match it. His looks had the female diaspora yearning for him and his personality had them at his beck and call. You called it an epidemic of Stockholm Syndrome.

You surveyed the restaurant out of the slim hope that your father would appear from either the bathroom or the front doors. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. You scoff at the situation, “If a woman actively avoids seeing you during arranged meetings like this, that should be a clear enough sign that she isn’t interested.”

“Send your mother my gratitude for managing to make this happen.” He took no offense to your words and dared to smirk, “You’d be pleased to know that this meeting holds substance.” 

“How so?” You ask with the same amount of interest that you had from the beginning of the interaction. 

Zenin hold a dominant trait within their family. It appears in each generation and if it skips one then surely the child is illegitimate. That trait is being incessantly annoying until they get what they want. You’ve seen it first hand and historians write about it enough for it to be true. They were bred manipulators with an apathy that matched that of a sociopath. 

The Gojo’s were quiet with their manipulation. It’s hard to tell it even happens until someone is negatively impacted by the repercussions. They also hid their misogyny well.

“Take a seat. I hate looking up at women when it’s unnecessary.” He urged with a load of disdain coming from his mouth. Women were to be at his beck and call. Never the other way around. He had confessed that to you during one of your first meetings. He knew of your reputation and he was confident that he could make the impenetrable Gojo his without much effort. Gojo’s are complicated beings and he had figured that out after 6 years of courting. His favorite play must’ve been Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew. Unfortunately for him, yours was As You Like It.

“And I like looking down on men when it is.” You shot back with a pointed look with your arms crossed over one another not before directing it toward the other patrons inside. The entire establishment reeked of affairs and widowers. “Speak up or I’m leaving.”

“You Gojo’s are insufferable.” You heard him mutter under his breath. 

The Gojo’s and the Zenin had a history dating back to the era of feudal Japan. The story goes that during the Edo period, the heads of the clans fought resulting in the death of the Gojo clan head. It was said that they were each in possession of their inherited techniques– a battle of the century. The backstory as to what led to the fight has been misconstrued and in semblance to the Bible has been interpreted further and further from the truth. It was a mystery to you why Naobito wanted to push a marriage between the two families. The malignant history should’ve prevented any sort of arrangement.  Your father was impartial to the arrangements and if he did care, he made little effort to show it. 

“Yet you still chose to pursue me. Seems counterproductive.” You chastise, “The answer will remain the same for as long as I live. I’d pick any of your relatives over you without missing a breath.”

He scoffed and countered, “Now you and I both know that’s not true.” 

He may have been right. The other “suitable candidate” would be Jinichi and let’s just say you liked his brother better.

“Do we? Because I’m failing to see when you and I have seen eye to eye on anything.” Your voice had slightly risen and if there had not been prior threatening conditions, a few heads would’ve been turned. From the outside looking in, you two were in the middle of a lover's quarrel. A demeaning assumption to be lumped into.

“You’ve wasted my time.” You sighed and decided not to linger any longer, “This meeting doesn’t hold any substance and I do not like wasting my time so frivolously. If that’s all you had to say I’ll be leaving.”

Your feet pivoted away from him, walking away as you searched inside your clutch to text your driver that you were ready to be picked up.

Osamu didn’t seem bothered by it. He had anticipated that reaction. He snapped his fingers at your departing figure and called out, “Oh, I wouldn’t leave so soon. This proposal is concerning the Six-Eyes that you treasure so much.”

His words managed to halt your movements but were not enough to commit to turning back. Each snap he’d do was transcribed in your mind as a countdown of you getting closer to getting visibly pissed off.  Having found your phone, you quickly typed out a text to your driver but let your fingers hover over the send button before you questioned his audacity,  “Are you using my brother as a threat? Should I relay to you the reason for my declining all your former marriage proposals?”

“I say that to you not as a threat but as a warning from your clan.” You turn around and see the satisfaction dripping from his tired eyes. You’ve seen that expression before and it wasn’t as antagonizing as his.

“You’re speaking in tongues. Would you like me to cut it off?” You warned but he didn’t back down even if he knew you weren’t one to speak without purpose. 

“Always quick-witted aren’t you?”His boisterous laughter resounded through the restaurant. He turned some heads but they soon disappeared into their conversations. He laughed out your name before explaining, “Do you truthfully believe that your clan is going to allow a woman to lead them? Let alone by herself? It would be blasphemous for you to even be considered in earnest for such an important position.”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. I at least would know how to get to the point in meetings like this.” You stated before turning your phone off and placing it back into your clutch.

“Your clan has no plan on making your position permanent. You are merely there to become an acting clan leader for Satoru. After he gets to a relatively sentient age, they’ll release you of your title and sell you off to become a housewife.” He informed you as he looked thoroughly pleased that you had finally given him your full attention. He took a bite out of one of the hors d'oeuvres and continued, “How does it feel to be lied to?”

You remained poised but let your words pierce for you.

“Why would you of all people know any of this? I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you at any of the Elder meetings.” You mockingly wondered, searching for an answer in the ceiling. Your eyes find him again and you deadpan, “Oh, wait.”

He scoffed, “I happen to be in the ones you aren’t a part of.”

“Is that so?” Knowing full well that he was spewing bullshit.

“Why would I risk my livelihood for a man.” Then it clicked. He was so insistent on being married off. Particularly to you. A Gojo, nonetheless. It was for the same reason men initiated wars or talked over women. It all came down to power. 

“Ah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? What this whole thing is about? This has never been about Satoru.” You began as you lifted yourself from your seat and gathered your clutch into your hands.

“Where are you going?” He asked. His hands were getting ready to grasp your wrist but were repelled by an invisible force. You glance down at his hand and scoff, “Not enough for you to know how different you are from me.”

“I’ll say this as I look down on you because I know how you adore looking up to me. You’ve been doing it your whole life.” You leaned your body down until you were level with him and zeroed your blue eyes into his eyes, “You loathe the idea that a woman would be in a higher position than you. If I marry you, it’s because I chose to. Not the other way around. Your threats don’t even hold a value because even in that scenario, you're not the one in power.”

But neither did you. Sorry to cut off your monologue but if his power was nonexistent then yours was miniscule.

Families tend to bear the signage of their legacy. A Gojo was thorough and quaint with an honorable benevolent presence. Their eyes and hair are key components to their icy exteriors. Not an inch of warmth to be dispelled from them. They get what they want and whoever harbors the consequences of that is left as residual fragments of their greed.  

That’s why when you walked into your family’s dining room, you had all but smoke coming from your ears when you saw your mother enjoying her midafternoon tea with a fashion magazine in hand. You were a spitting image of her minus your hair and eye color. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and a blue hairpin similar to yours. Her kimono was also blue but was a shade of blue that was nauseating to stare at. Kind of like a person with motion sickness on a boat. She didn’t have to bat an eye to notice the bad energy you had given off when you entered the room.

“Back from brunch so early?” She commented as she licked his finger to turn the page. 

“Would have been there longer if the meeting was worth my time. I ask that you don’t involve me in any of your schemes moving forward.” You tried to remain composed but it was hard when she barely acknowledged your presence. 

“Osamu is a good man. He has a good head on his shoulders and enough tact to understand what it means to rule a clan. He is perfect for this family.” She answered, not breaking her stride in skimming over the magazine pages. 

Your father was the pillar of your family and your mother was the maintenance crew that made sure to preserve that image. Your mother had a mind but that mind was enshrouded with images of your father’s reputation. It must have been an inherited trait to desire to control every and any aspect of life. Her image must be upheld alongside those whom she associates with. 

Of course, you included. It was deceitful to the public that she portrayed herself as a loving mother. You’d tell me that she was the Victorian era’s incarnated embodiment. She loathed you since she laid eyes on you. She had done everything right — met your father, married him, received the power, and bore the clan an heir. During that high, she failed to take into account birthing a daughter. A firstborn daughter, at that. Countless times had she tried to mold you into the perfect woman by attempting to dissuade you from becoming the clan head. Deeming it to be too masculine for a woman. That playing house was biologically instilled within you and that going against it was an act against nature.

Your mother, though married into the family, held the insinuation of being a Gojo best. Her favorite color would have been green if blue didn’t exist. She designated specific blues for the family. Your father was a Royal Blue to commandeer his role in society and accentuate his noble features. His color resembled the waves of The Great Wave off Kanagawa. He carried power in his stride with a color that was made for him.

 Satoru was categorized as a blue which could never be forgotten. You see it once and use it as a reference for describing the perfect hue of blue. It illuminates any kind of room whether it be an office, a library, or a bedroom. It matches each occasion. As a gem, he was a sapphire solitaire. 

Blue is the root of all your problems. From your conception to the present day, blue plagued you because you weren’t a specific hue of blue. Matter of fact, you were the palest blue that painters could find. The kind of blue that was painted in nurseries, the kind that the sky was known for, and the kind that resembles a forget-me-not. As a gem, you belonged in the possession of someone else.

You were cold. No, not because of your appearance but because you decided to wear nothing beneath the baby blue silk pajama set in place of the pair of sweats and the baggy t-shirt you had tucked underneath the floorboard of your closet. You were in your room and you easily could’ve wrapped your blanket around you but didn’t feel like staying in your room. It had as much personality as your public persona. It’s not like you were able to design it. Your mother’s strict aesthetic did not discriminate when it came to your private life. If anything it was meticulously calculated. She wanted it to become a lifestyle rather than a facade. 

You wanted the comfort of a home. This room that has been yours since you were born never grew to become one. The house as a whole was not one either. In hindsight, you should’ve gone to the garden but the chances of running into Toji were too risky. 

Since your night with Toji, you were scared of him. How he made you feel per se. Never in your life had you felt as desired as he made you feel. Sex was coined to be meaningless for people in your age group. Just something that had to be done by a certain cutoff age. From what Yuki had told you, it happens and you move on. So why would you rather let your garden wither than have to face him? 

Intimacy comes with sex, that’s just the nature of it. You knew what you were getting yourself into but the capacity of it left you blindsided. You’ve been praised for your value for so long that you have forgotten that your value was based on your worth besides someone else. Without a name, you were as good as a fine china dining set. You had gone on a whole morality spiel with Satoru about the importance of names and yet you hated when people used your name. That night your name was brought up but instead of it feeling like a weight on your shoulders it was the complete opposite.

A man should never have this sort of hold on you. They never have until him. Not even with guys who looked like him. All the men in the world could disappear in the world and you’d exhale in content but not without the wandering thought of him. 

Nature was a familiar topic for you. Nature and instinct coincide with one another. You adhered to instinct well. That’s why you knew that your relationship with Toji was based on the natural pull of instinct. 

While you were enshrouding yourself to fear, Toji was convinced that you would be the best he ever had and encouraged the thought of seeing you again. He had been going based on late-night fantasies he’s had of you since he was a teenager. How could he not? The desire to want something that is so out of reach yet so agonizingly close? You had manifested into a personalized kink for him. He could freely explain his desires for you ranging from what he wanted to do to putting those desires to practice. He was open in that sense of your relationship. That was the situation until you turned the tide.

You stopped coming to the garden, completely. It could’ve been a coincidence seeing as during that time of year cursed spirits tend to be at an all-time high. However, you aren’t the only sorcerer in the world and you couldn’t possibly be busy enough to neglect your garden. It wasn’t until after the second week of your absence that he clued in that you were avoiding him.

He wasn’t having it. In the same way that he was “having” an overly intoxicated woman grinding her ass on him with no rhythm to save her life. A few weeks ago, she would’ve been the standard- an average girl with big tits and an even bigger ass. He accepted that a lot has changed for him since he met you. He pushed her off and though she scoffed at his rejection she didn’t continue her advances and let him leave. He didn’t even know why he was at this club. He didn’t want to be there. He thought the neon flower light decorations were too tacky compared to what he had grown used to. He didn’t want to see the flowers in the garden, frankly, he didn’t give a fuck about them. He wanted to see you.

You had been in your world when you began to hear taps against your bedroom window. You’d seen clouds earlier that day and had written off the tapping as heavy rain. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you noticed a dark shadowy figure tapping incessantly on your bedroom window. Foolish to even confuse the sounds of Toji Zenin as something so peaceful

You pondered for a while if you should even acknowledge him. You could go about your night and pretend he’s not there. You would’ve followed through if your window didn’t sound like it was on the brink of cracking.

You cracked the window open and immediately started questioning him, “What are you doing here? How’d you even know this was my room?”

For once, Toji wasn’t annoyed by your incessant need to ask trivial questions. He would’ve let you continue with your tangent if it hadn’t felt like it was below zero degrees outside.

“I’ll answer all your questions if you just let me inside. It’s fucking cold out here.” He had the decency to ask but didn’t plan on listening to what you had to say after. He tried to push through the small gap you left open but you blocked it with your body. He raised a brow at your actions, amused by your stance, and cocked his head at you to speak. His expression briefly reminded you of the look he had from that night and you prayed he didn’t hear you gulp. It was dark out and the light from the moon couldn’t make out. 

“Ironic. The man with an inhuman body is getting taken down by a little breeze.”

His eyes darted to your breast and he couldn’t help but lick his lips, “Not the only one that’s being affected.”

You furrowed your brows and let your eyes travel to where his eyes had landed and felt yourself heat up. You weren’t wearing a bra. Why would you? Your nipples pierced through your silk pajama shirt enough that you couldn’t even form a rebuttal. You crossed your arms over one another trying to protect your decency. Again, why would you? He had seen far more than an erect nipple from you.

You shook your head and tried to affirm, “You need to leave. You can’t be here.” You planted yourself in front of the opening and tried hard to play off your embarrassment. He took your attempts as nonsensical.

He planted his elbow on the ledge and used his hand to prop his head, he mused, “You’re gonna make me leave after I’ve gone through all this trouble? You're so cruel, sweetheart.” 

He had used that nickname once before. At the time, you assumed it was a slip of the tongue. Even now, you have followed that same mentality. 

You scoffed and puffed your chest out, “Cruel is one of the many things I’ve been called and I take pride in it.” 

His position remained the same, caring little that his body could enter hypothermia if he remained outside. He continued the banter, “So have I. You’re nothing special, sweetheart.”

Surely, not a slip-up anymore.

“That’s a new one.”

“Like it? Think it matches you well.”

“A lot of words have been used to describe me but sweetheart has to be a new one”, You shook your head in protest and subconsciously side-stepped out of the window opening. Enough to give him an opening, one that you had noticed too late. Your back was already pushed into the wall and his hands were cupping your jaw. You opened your mouth to speak but he had his fill of hearing your voice. His lips caged yours in desperation. His desperation could only be described as Odysseus coming back home after decades away from Ithaca. You couldn’t reprimand him either because as much as you had actively avoided him, you missed this feeling. One that you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Good.” He breathed out before diving back to your lips. His lips suctioned onto yours as if he were sucking the seed out of a cherry. His hands that had been stationed on your chin deviated to the back of your neck, pushing your lips further into his. Breathing did have to happen and with one last peck, he spoke, “I would hate for someone to see you like that.” 

“As a decent person?” You tried to joke and keep the situation airy but you missed the feeling of his lips on yours already. This is what you had been afraid of. He is an addiction you can’t quit once you start. He held that over you and he didn’t even know it.

“You think you're decent?” He asked as his lips traveled down from your lips. Kissing against your chin with the same amount of passion as he had down to lips seconds prior.

You softly exhaled, “Don’t think I’m the worst.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“And you are?”

“Don’t start putting words in my mouth now.” He scoffed as he sucked harshly against your neck. He let that happen multiple times, each more prominent than the last. You let his mouth ruminate on your neck in bliss. The breeze coming from your window knocks you to your senses.

“We have to stop.” Your room was far enough from the rest of your family’s rooms but you didn’t trust your voice if you did continue on the path you guys were heading toward.

“Have to? Or scared to?” He asked with the intent of getting a legible answer. He knew you avoided things when they got too serious. He’s experienced it firsthand. His hands trailing toward the buttons on your shirt and unbuttoning them with expertise. With your boobs on full display, he let your shirt drop off your shoulders and onto the floor while his fingers wasted no time toying with the nipples that had been taunting him since he had seen them.

“Gotta answer? Your body does.” He mocked before letting one of his hands sweep across your stomach until they found solace in the band of your pajama pants. Just like the bra, you weren’t wearing any panties. His fingers fiddled with the band but restrained themselves from delving further.

“Got anything to do with you disappearing on me?” He whispered into your ear with his eyes targeted at your own. You tried to avoid them by focusing elsewhere but looking up or down you’d still be met with him. 

You groaned from the sensation of his hands, “You want to talk about it now?” 

He squeezed particularly harder on your boob and inched his hands further into your pants then cheekily asked, “Why? Is now a bad time?”

This had to be some form of torture. You wouldn’t put it past Toji to leave you like this. He tends to do things his way and right now was a prime example of it. As you said before, Zenin’s are inherent assholes. However, he was currently the asshole that managed to cause a pool to form in between your legs and the only one capable of doing anything about it.

“I was busy.” You answered quickly. It wasn’t a lie but it also wasn’t the whole truth. You could’ve reached out to him or even gone to the garden. The reasoning as to why briefly left you as you pushed your legs against one another was to absolve you of the tension that he had built up. 

You felt his smirk against your ear before whispering, “Nah I don’t think so.” He dipped his head down to kiss the edge of your cheek that led into your ear. His hand on your boob continued its ministrations while the other one let your pants pool at your ankles before continuing its journey into your cunt. He would stop himself whenever he’d hear your breath falter, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding me, sweetheart.”

You hummed eagerly, impatiently waiting for his fingers to find your clit. Any conscious reasoning telling you to stop before was shunned by lust. He was satisfied with your admission. He promised himself that he’d edge you the next time he’d get to have you and this reaction was enough for him. His fingers gave you what you wanted and your immediate response was to let out a cry. Your mother was home and unfortunately, her room was the closest to yours. 

You bit your lip to mask the noise but he wouldn’t allow for that. His pace went faster, swirling his finger over the bud and flicking it a few times. He was trying to elicit noise out of you. It was hard to tell before what he was wearing, the moon barely illuminating his figure. He was wearing a black crew neck and sweatpants. Nothing to gawk at. It was his usual clothing but it did give you an idea of your own.

You slid your hand to his bulge and palmed it over his pants. He groaned into your ear, “You're better than that. If you’re gonna do it, you shouldn’t half-ass it, baby.” He let the hand that had been busy on your boob deviate to his waistband pulling his pants along with his boxers down to let out his hardened cock. He grabbed your hand and said, “Spit.”

“W-What?” You stuttered, staring at your hand in awe. 

“Need to wet it before you start to stroke it.”

You were reluctant to do so but did as you were told. He smirked and guided your hand to the base of his cock. You’d never given a handjob before yet you managed to handle his cock with ease. He had to reward you for your hard work and caught your lips before plunging his fingers into your cunt. His groans and your moans fought for dominance as they desperately tried to be heard. 

He was knuckling deep in your pussy while your pace on his cock was faltering. 

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart. You must be wishing my fingers were something else.” He grunted as his pace increased. Your back arched against the wall while your body curled into his. His words held truth but you weren’t going to deny his fingers were doing a good job substituting it. 

Your fingers tried to simulate the same pleasure he had been giving you, trying to remember the porn videos you’d watched when you were younger. You let one of your fingers graze his slit before swirling your finger around the base of the head. 

“Am I doing good?” You panted out between battered breaths.

He sucked on your neck as he praised, “Always s’good f’r me.”

His praise went straight to your core and had you shuddering out an orgasm on his fingers. Though you were wrecked from cumming, you were still adamant about getting Toji to cum. His cock was twitching in your hand and you knew he was getting close. Just when he was close to finishing, he pulled your hand away.

You raised a brow at him and he pecked your lips before quickly replying,  “Wanna cum in you.” 

He tossed his crewneck somewhere amongst the other discarded clothes before lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“My bed. Now.” That is all you managed to get out of the kiss. He chuckled against your lips before sitting down on your bed and having you straddle him. He tossed his crew neck somewhere amongst the other discarded clothes before cupping your hips in his hands as you leaned in to kiss him. Your hands had tangled themselves in his hair pulling on it as your pussy grinding against his thighs. He halted your movements with his palms, tapping them against your thighs.

“I forgot a condom.”

The Toji Zenin. Forgot a condom. The irony. 

For once, you thanked Yuki for her stupidity. You got off of him, walking toward your closet and searching for the clutch she had let you borrow. Pulling out the box, you tossed them to him before clearing your throat, “Will those work?"

He caught the box and looked at the familiar packaging then smirked up at you, not expecting you to have a stash of condoms but amused that you did. Shaking the box at you, he asks, “Where’d you get these?” 

“A gift from a friend.” You respond as you walk back to him.

“A friend?” He tries to pry, opening the box and pulling out a condom. As far as he’s concerned, he was the only friend you had. 

You narrow your eyes, “Do they fit or not?” 

He chuckles at your insistence but nods, ripping the packaging and putting the condom on with ease. He hooked a hand around your waist, situating it in between his thighs before snaking a hand down to slap your ass catching you off guard. He smirked and challenged, “Still wanna learn how to ride, cowgirl?” 

You flushed at the memory of your first time together. How you managed to be so daring was a mystery to you. It had to be the sex-induced confidence. You’ve heard of a lot of different positions from Yuki. She even gave you a ranking on which positions were best and listed the pros and cons for each one. The downside of this one was stamina and luckily for you and Toji that wasn’t a concern.

You nod your head and you feel his hands on your hips lift you back to the position you were previously in while your hands situated themselves on his shoulders. He kept your hips slightly alleviated from his then used one of his hands to align his cock to your entrance. Not before sliding it along your entrance getting a mewl out of you. 

“Can’t you just put it in?” You irritably asked. Your cunt tried hard to clench on his cock whenever he’d glide it over. 

“Need to give my pretty girl what she wants.” That was his warning before he slammed his cock right into you. Your head lolled to his neck while your nails dug into his shoulders from the impact. A wanton moan followed after the impact and you could only pray no one heard. 

The cocky shit dared to cackle at your reaction. You bit his collarbone but his laugh just became more obnoxious.

He gripped the small of your back, guiding you to bounce up and down on his cock. Compared to your first time, he was handling you in the same manner as he did his hedges, sloppy and rushed. However, just like the hedges he had a method to his madness.

“Just gotta do it like this.” He instructed before whispering in your ear, “Think you can do that, sweetheart?” 

His answer came in the form of another moan and the rolling of your hips into his. You were a fast learner. Such a fast learner that he’d think you’ve done this before. You were going along with what felt right and what would get you closer to the end. With that being said, your awareness about your noise level had been clouded with desire.

“You can’t be so loud. Wouldn’t want your family hearing you be such a slut now would we?” He mocked, rutting his hips into yours at an animalistic pace. He had delayed his orgasm for as long as possible and as he had said he wanted to be in you when he did.

“N-Nooh” Your words and your tone of voice weren’t corresponding to each other. You tried to ignore the way you clenched at the degrading nickname. He wasn’t.

“Oh, you like being called slut?” He growled, harshly slapping your ass causing you to bite down on his collarbone to mask your cries. You tried to match his pace, trying to coordinate with him but it was no use. He was animalistic.

“That’s right. You’re my slut, baby.”

You whimper — something bordering pathetic — but your pride is left on the floor with a whimper being the only noise you could remember. You're nearing your end. He can tell, probably before you can. Your mind is enshrouded in galaxies and nebulas. You wanted it to stay there. You wanted him.

“S’good, baby,” he coaxes, brushing a few sweaty strands of hair from your face. “My pretty girl.” 

You cum hard with his name still on your lips. He caught your moans with his mouth and didn’t relent with his speed trying to catch his end. If he’d continued any longer you would’ve reached your third orgasm of the night. Fortunately, the loud groan he let out in your mouth and the feeling of the condom filling up didn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t feel like your legs were going to be impaired the next day.

He tied the condom off and tossed it in your bedside trash can. He fell into your mattress pulling you on top of him. Your legs tangled and the both of you were communicating in giggles. 

“Can’t believe you forgot a condom.” You teased, laughing into his chest. 

He seemed flustered by the question, an expression you don’t see often from him. He avoided your eyes and lifted a hand to rub his neck before he answered, “I wasn’t planning for things to go this way.”

“What were you planning?”

You felt him shrug.

“Just wanted to see you I guess.”

“Oh.” Is the safest response you could think of. You guys were friends. It was just now with the added benefits. A sting was felt in your chest at the implication but his hands rubbing circles on the small of your back soothed that sensation away.

It was silent for a while. Neither one of you knew what else to say.

His slowed breathing indicated he’d fallen asleep. You felt safe enough to say what you had initially thought. You left a shy kiss on his chest as you mumbled, “I wanted to see you too.” 

Morning came soon and Toji had left just as fast. By the time you’d woken up, he was gone and the window that had been open was firmly shut. All that was left of him was your discarded clothing from the night before, the condom in your trashcan, and a text from him.

Toji:

Sorry.

You rolled your eyes at the text. Why’d he apologize for leaving? You sent a question mark and tossed your phone on your mattress. You threw your pajamas into your hamper before putting on a robe, grabbing a change of clothes, and walked out of your room and toward your bathroom. 

A shriek of your name caused you to turn around. Satoru was standing a few feet away from you with his eyes beyond the words of terror.

“Your neck!”

Curse that Zenin fuck.

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a/n: sorry for the three month break! honestly had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I decided to rewatch the anime and saw some edits on tiktok that sparked my inspiration. the next couple of chapters are going to be heavily reliant on action as to stay relevant to the anime. Also, I have a playlist that I use when I'm writing for this fic. Here's the link!

references:

Taming of the Shrew: Lucentio loves Bianca but cannot court her until her shrewish older sister Katherina marries. The eccentric Petruccio marries the reluctant Katherina and uses a number of tactics to render her an obedient wife. Lucentio marries Bianca and, in a contest at the end, Katherina proves to be the most obedient wife.

As You Like It: Rosalind and her cousin escape into the forest and find Orlando, Rosalind's love. Disguised as a boy shepherd, Rosalind has Orlando woo her under the guise of "curing" him of his love for Rosalind. Rosalind reveals she is a girl and marries Orlando during a group wedding at the end of the play.

The Great Wave off Kanegawa: famous japanese painting.

tag list:

@cococola-cocaine @justtnat @softvgold @missroro

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