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dear writers who are slower/take more time with their writing or writers who are on hiatus or writers who are trying to find their voice again, i see you and i love you and you are valid

soft phone sex with gojo, might be a little ooc, 1.2k words <3 looli revival!!

“are you alone?”

when the conversations start like this so late in the night, you know what’s about to happen. still, it does manage to cut you off guard- even just a little bit. so you weren’t able to hide the hitch in your breath very well. just like he wasn’t able to hide the low, low chuckle that followed immediately after your quiet admission of guilt. you know him too well. and he, you. 

“maybe” you draw out, voice light and airy and playful as you respond into the phone. he laughs again at your attempt to play coy because you both know what you’re doing. it’s the same thing every single time. you both know that you’re taking the phone and the line and sitting on the edge of your shared bed- the one that always feels so empty and cold when he has to stay away from home for a night or two. you both know that right now, you’re listening very, very carefully for the pitter-patter of tiny feet or the quiet creaking of the bedroom, hoping you don’t have any uninvited young guest scampering around past their bedtime. “are you alone?”

and you both know that you’re now lifting up the edges of your nightgown and slipping your panties down to your ankles now that you know that the coast is clear and your husband’s loving voice is purring in your ear.

“you know I am, sweetheart .” he hums at the sound of your sultry voice and the call of his title in such a lewd manner. and you’re almost too ashamed to admit just how turned on a few words make you. but you can’t help it. it hasn’t even been that long yet, and you already miss him. your body- the parts now being uncovered in the chilly air of your bedroom longs for his touch. goosebumps are already littering your skin and your nipples are perking up and pebbling. almost as if he was here, right beside you. ready to keep you warm, and safe, and most of all? “are you touching yourself for me?”

keeping you loved.

you smile into the phone as you opt not to rely at first. instead, you decide to lie back on the bed. letting the familiar smell of his side of the comforter surround you as your body makes contact. the phone line tugs and stretches a little bit as you bring it with you. but you’re able to bring it up to your ear and tuck it in your shoulder all nice and snug without too much trouble. And with you let yourself get comfortable. hiking up your legs and placing your feet flat on top of the bed. drawing up your nightgown even further. and resting your hand in the valley between your breasts and letting your hands move around on their own. touching your breasts. brushing your fingers against your skin. like you wish he could. like you  know  he would. if only he was here.  if only, if only.

“maybe I am, ” You say into the phone, repeating the same sing-songy tone that you had on earlier as your smile grows just a teensy bit more. “maybe I’m not.”

almost instantly, you hear a sigh. on the other side of the phone, you know gojo is getting a little impatient with you. you don’t blame him too. you know how hard he trains. and you can imagine just how long of a day he’s had. barking orders at those who never seem to listen. the training he endures that never seems to end. and so many more things that you know you’re not privy to, especially after his climb in the ranks. but you can’t help it. you just can’t help it. he left you alone here. alone on the bed. alone, alone, alone with only his voice to comfort you. 

so of course you were going to give a little tease. just a little one, at least. because it’s only natural. because it’s only fair. because he’s doing it to you right now. 

just letting you hear the sound of his voice and not the warmth of his hands. 

“sweetheart, ” he calls out to you through the phone, voice strained and breathing a little tighter than before. out of instinct, you find yourself licking at your lips and biting them as the hand on your chest slowly travels down, and down, and down. you know the sounds that follow after all too well. the rustling of clothes. the quiet clinking of metal. the soft groans. it’s telling.  too  telling. the hidden neediness in his voice. the subtle way he begs with just the call of a nickname.  your  nickname. it’s telling. because you know him just as well as he knows you. “i need you to touch yourself for me.  please .”

because you know him.

and because you know him so well, you  know  that he’s gotten started without you. you can just tell. he has already gotten started without you. maybe it was while the phone was ringing. maybe it was while you were still talking- still  teasing  him. maybe it was even before he decided to call you. But you can just  tell . that he’s already pulled down his trousers. that he’s already pulled out free his cock. and that the sounds you heard were him freeing himself even further from the confines of his clothesand his determination to be the best striker. because more than his resolve, he wants you. he  needs  you. he  misses  you. as much as you feel all those same things for him.

and suddenly you don’t  want  to be a tease. suddenly you don’t want to make a big show about touching every part of your body except that he wants you to- that you  need  to- the most. suddenly you realize that you just want what you wanted all along.

him.  

“I am…” you tell him in a rush, just as your fingers find some of the wetness pooling in between your legs. you swipe it- coating some of your fingers tips with your own arousal and go immediately for your clit. you draw a sharp breath, feeling your own sense of neediness crop up now that you’re touching the most sensitive part of your body. but you don’t want to stop there. so you don’t. you reach out your other hand and take a fistful of one of your boobs. grip firm and tight like the way satoru does to you. you squeeze at it before moving your fingers along to play with your nipples. pinching them and rolling them so carefully between two fingers that it starts getting your hips shifting and your voice rising in a way that you imagine is unbefitting of a young woman. but you don’t care anymore. you don’t. because right now? you just want to close your eyes. you just want to block all sound. but most of all? “ I am, toru…I’m touching myself….all for you .”

you just want to focus on him.

“all for me, sweetheart?” 

because maybe if you focus hard enough. maybe if you imagine hard enough.

“a-all of you.”

if you  wish  hard enough.

“there’s my good girl. ”

then maybe the warmth you’re feeling now will start to feel it does when he’s the one touching you.