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@00_5u
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guy who's normal about fictional characters ira, 21↑ | transmasc, HE/HIM 💢 write sometimes, multi + no fixed dynamics 🔞🪦🕊️ priv: @00__ira ⚠️ @careforgaza
please tag lolisho 🚫 mdni
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i write mostly yuuji-centric pairings (goyuu, goyuuge, choita) but anything i feel like writing goes so expect to find other things.
warning for dead dove and lots of smut 📌
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🔞🩸🐯 choita
choso accidentally walking in on yuuji when he's trying to get himself off because the curse doesn't exactly know or understand things like boundaries and personal space enough to remember why he has to knock.
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⚠️ goyuu
gojo who promises himself he won't touch yuuji until he's no longer his student, shooting down all his advances and requests after they sort of mutually confess, limiting himself to the occasional slightly less than platonic touching and gentle close-mouthed kisses -
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thinking abt toji being adamant about yuuji never spending the night with him, because his weary inner voice keeps telling him it's just one more reason to be on guard. at least if he sleeps alone and someone comes for him, he won't have to worry about the boy on his bed.
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goyuu
5⃣🐯
goyuu pausing their makeout session on the basement sofa that started it all because they somehow start paying attention to the movie playing on the tv again.
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goyuu almost getting caught when they're two seconds away from doing awful things on top of gojo's desk and in their haste to hide, instead of yuuji dipping under it, gojo is the one who does it
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goyuu thoughts... yuuji curiously messing around with someone and one day he decides to send them a risky picture.
he's just feeling himself, and the entire process of posing and checking his own angles in the camera and thinking of them seeing it makes him bothered -
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satoru gives himself just a minute to rest his forehead on the boy's shoulder, feel his pulse against his lips, hear the way yuuji's voice cuts off into a needy whine.
and well, his precious student was the one who begged him. said he could. how could he ever deny him?
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PART TWO 🩸🐯
when he opens his eyes, apparently having closed them at some point, choso is intently watching the way his c/ck weakly dribbles precvm over their joined fingers.
he notices himself with a start, that choso’s own knuckles look shiny.
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so of course he just walks into yuuji’s room in the place they’re hiding out in, when yuuji’s got his shirt trapped between his teeth and one hand wrapped tight around his aching c/ck.
it’s admittedly not his best moment, or his smartest decision -
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🧍🏻♂️🔞 sukuita
sukuna offering to teach his overexcited nephew yuuji how to drive, allowing him to go behind the wheel of his ridiculously large car, but the catch is: sukuna is staying behind the wheel, and yuuji has to sit on his lap.
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his self control is honestly impressive, he wishes yuuji would recognize that and maybe shower him in praise. but yuuji is not having it.
one day he finally snaps and crowds his sensei up against his teacher's desk, soon after class when the room's finally empty +
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when he opens his eyes, apparently having closed them at some point, choso is intently watching the way his c/ck weakly dribbles precvm over their joined fingers.
he notices himself with a start, that choso’s own knuckles look shiny.
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you've heard of alphas with knots, but consider: alphas with barbed cocks that reach deep inside their omegas and stimulate them all around, hooking into them from inside to prevent the omega from pulling away before they're done filling their wombs up with their seed
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doing this when he knows they’re basically trapped with each other for the time being, unable to go anywhere without the other. but they’ve been here for so long now with little to do, and he’s going stir crazy.
he gasps when the door suddenly flies open,
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“that’s why your blood was rushing.” he says, like he’s just made an intriguing discovery.
yuuji is mildly alarmed, opens his mouth to ask if he could hear that from several feet away, already reevaluating every night they've spent under the same roof,
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i wish fandom spaces were still for freaks and not this popularity contest infested with mean girl wannabes
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he tucks yuuji back into his sweats and leans over his mess of a body, sprawled over the chair, to press a soft kiss and more praise into his temple. it makes yuuji’s chest flutter, even after everything he just did.
seems like he’s just discovered a lot about himself.
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yuuji accidentally swallows all the spit in his mouth and chokes, staring as the man perches on the floor in front of him and gently braces his hands on his knees, lowering them back so his feet touch the floor.
“it’s okay. there’s nothing to be ashamed of, little brother.”
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"sensei, i know you want me too. what does it matter if i'm still your student for another year?"
he doesn't get it. he sees the way satoru looks at him. he steps even closer, nudging his way between gojo's long legs and meeting chest-to-chest.
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head whipping up in shock, and once he properly takes in who is standing in his doorway, his length twitches in his hand. he vows to ignore that, hurriedly letting go of himself.
he lets the shirt fall off from between his teeth, and in his haste to cover up
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but of course he wouldn’t.
“you were pleasuring yourself.” he answers wholeheartedly.
yuuji’s heart does a funny thump inside his chest, his face burning up even hotter at hearing those words come out of his mouth.
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he leaves it hanging around his neck, stepping closer and leaning down against him.
"yuuji, i've been so good up until now. are you trying to test my patience? it's like you want me to break." he comments, his voice low enough that it makes yuuji's chest shake.
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yuuji staring at him in disbelief and exasperation, trying not to laugh as someone asks if he's seen gojo and he's forced to shake his head and shrug, going "no i haven't seen him. i was just waiting here for him" while he hopes and prays they don't also think to do the same
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in light of recent events (chapter) i can't stop thinking abt that one fic where yuta keeps dirty talking to yuuji in plain view of gojo but he's actually teasing yuuji about all the dirty things he wants gojo to do to him
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infinity is off for him like it usually is, and that's just another obvious confirmation that he's not the only one who wants this.
he gets up close enough to smell satoru's lip gloss, his eyes falling to those shiny lips he so badly wants to taste...
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to confront him. gojo doesn't outwardly react to him stepping up this close, forcing him back until his legs meet the table, hands just barely resisting the urge to reach up and tug him by the lapels of his jacket as he peers up with his big sparkly eyes and says -
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but he keeps walking, until he’s standing barely a foot away from yuuji’s seat.
their eyes finally meet, and choso tilts his head.
“why did you stop?”
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his gaze flits from his hands to his flushed face to the beat up knees bent to cover himself, pants still pulled up to his mid-thigh.
and instead of leaving like yuuji expected, he slowly walks into the room. his steps are quiet and hesitant, like a cat stalking prey.
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he asks, like it’s nothing. like yuuji should’ve just continued stroking himself right in front of the man who calls himself his brother.
he clenches his legs tighter in front of himself, ankles hooked together, glaring up at him.
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he just closes his legs and draws them up, hands gripping the sides of the chair he’s sitting in as he yelps: “you can’t just barge in here like that!”
choso stands there, seemingly caught in shock, still processing the eyeful he just got.
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it’s useless since his cheeks are probably beet red, he can feel them flaring up in heat.
“do you even know what i was doing?’ he snips. he weakly hopes choso will recognize the question for what it is: a protest, to make him really think about the situation again and back off.
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spoilers /
seeing st/sg fans celebrating the blatant use of gojo's body is making me sick btw. already saw some art of "haha teehee they match" man you don't deserve gojo nor geto. fuck off
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satoru flips them so yuuji is the one falling back over the desk, supporting his weight on his hands so he's not lying over the wood. it was so quick, his heart starts beating a frantic rhythm inside his chest.
he looks up at satoru with wide eyes, lips parted and breath
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they follow the faint but visible happy trail all the way to the opened fly of gojo's pants, revealing the waistband of snug black boxers.
he tries to ignore the obvious volume he can see under the fabric, but it makes his face /burn/.
😎
now we're even
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fast and nervous, and this is why he's held himself back - yuuji isn't ready.
but he looks more closely, and realizes that's not really fear making the boy's frame tremble. he clicks his tongue, reaching up to tug his blindfold down so he can take in all of him.
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and gently grabs his wrists. it disarms him, the sudden touch of his palms so soft and impossibly warm, so he lets the man pull his hands away and guide them back down.
he places yuuji’s hand directly on top of his own c/ck, and he can’t help but think
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yuuji has to hold his breath in his lungs and count to ten in his head, trying to ignore the way his entire body gets an involuntary shiver.
this should be weird. this 𝘪𝘴 weird. choso is too close to his bare thighs and uncomfortably hard length,
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"oh. you do." he whispers, watching in fascination as yuuji's eyes dance all over his features, biting his lips red. "cute, innocent little yuuji has been waiting for me to lose my reason and eat you up." he doesn't measure his words, wants to see what effect they'll have.
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he’s about to retort with something along the lines of yes, so can you please leave?
when choso takes the final step that gets him as close as he can possibly be, and drops to his knees.
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now running his hands up yuuji’s legs, and he just called him little brother. why is he still glued in place like this, when he should be shoving his pants up and choso out of the room?
the brunette reaches his hands, still firmly wrapped around the sides of the chair,
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about how his hand is so much bigger, almost encompassing his own as he moves it along the top, spreading the precum along the head in a way that makes his stomach clench.
when he doesn’t immediately move again himself, choso’s eyes flicker up to his in question.
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his eyes are as deep as ever, rising up at the corners like he’s smiling at him, but if yuuji looks hard enough he can detect something else. amusement, or something darker.
he doesn’t look.
“helping you.” is the reply, and choso moves their hands again before he can retort.
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he leans in and licks a stripe up yuuji’s palm, and it leaves a trail of searing heat running all the way up to the tips of his fingers.
he feels frozen here, no longer a participant in this as choso re-wraps his fingers around himself.
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“does it not feel good like this?” he wonders, looking back down at his d/ck with another contemplative tilt of his head, like it’s something he has to fucking study.
he hums and raises his hand again, turning it palm-up in his to, oh -
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he doesn't reply, still hypnotized by his sensei's pretty eyes he rarely gets to see. but the way his breath trembles gives him away.
satoru chuckles, a threatening little sound, and frames yuuji's hips with his hands on the table. they're technically not touching.
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that causes his voice to rise up from within his chest in a startled moan, and choso's lips part at the sound.
his eyebrows twitch up, and he does it again - slower this time, squeezing their hands around him, then all the way down to the base.
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not so innocent after all, with the way yuuji's brows furrow almost as if he's in pain from holding himself back, and his legs spread apart over the lip of the table, inviting him in. gojo holds back a groan under the face of such wanton behavior.
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guiding his hand, yuuji can’t decide now, what with the brain leaking out through his ears.
choso keeps moving his hand though, and he starts watching yuuji’s face for a reaction. he only catches on when choso does something with his hand, twisting it in a way
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so, geita 🔞💦
geto slowly trailing his hand up the inside of yuuji's thigh, teasing the end of his very small, very soft shorts and marveling at the way his thighs break out in goosebumps so easily when he does this.
yuuji's shaking, eyes following his large, pretty fingers
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he can almost physically feel his self control melt and slip between the cracks in his resolve.
"tell me you want me, 𝘺𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪." he whispers, up against a burning red ear shell. the boy trembles, a small sound tumbling from his lips. "tell me how much you want this."
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okay this thread is finished but i feel like edging yuuji a little longer so, meet here tomorrow for part two
😴
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"were you expecting me to do it right here?" he continues, the blazing heat in his chest spurring him on. he knows yuuji is tongue-tied, won't offer him any actual answers, but he can't stop.
"were you expecting me to bend you over this table right here, where anyone could
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yuuji come right here, just like this, with his voice alone. whisper all the dirty things he's imagined so far, everything he wants to do with and to him, until yuuji is a writhing mess, biting his lip raw and clenching his legs together, barely suppressing his needy noises.
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yuuji takes in a sharp breath and it shudders in his chest, nodding before he even realizes he's doing it, and his mouth is running too.
says yes, yes i want this, want you, need sensei to touch me, can't stop thinking about it, about you-
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he digs into the fabric of his casual shirt with his nails, feeling half-crazed, his head spinning.
“w-what are you doing.” he grits out, voice shaky and weak.
choso gives him this look…
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yuuji usually doesn’t bother with lube, especially now that it’s more of a hassle to come by, just strokes himself with the aid of his own pre to make the slide easier, but this does feel marginally better.
if it’s due to the spit or the fact that it’s someone else
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it feels different, better, the warmth of their hands combined, and almost like yuuji isn’t even the one touching himself.
his stomach jumps, and he sits up to brace his other hand on choso’s shoulder.
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walk in and see you, hm?"
yuuji's breath comes out almost as a sob, his fingernails scratching down the wood. he takes a minute to appreciate the fact that yuuji really hasn't done anything, hasn't touched him at all, because gojo didn't say he could. he wonders if he could
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holding him tucked into his chest.
for once, he feels something like anticipation for the morning to come, and he's happy for either outcome his anxious brain offers him - waking up to soft sunshine outside his window and inside his arms, or not at all.
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he likes doing that, it seems. cutting yuuji off, making him bite his tongue.
he slumps back into the chair, trying to hold himself in place and resist the urge to buck up into the warmth.
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but yuuji sees through him, just offering him a tiny little smile. it looks tight, weak and sad around the corners, but he keeps wearing it as he sits up a little and beckons toji closer.
toji gives him a suspicious look, still unwilling to relent, but he draws closer under
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mister akisguns sir i apologize for always grabbing your tweets and making them about about my little gay ships. it will happen again
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🔞
gojo making toji wear a skirt thinking he'll finally get the upper hand on the man, being sly and trailing his hands up under it to feel him up, having his laugh up until toji gets tired of it and takes his wrist in hand, manhandling him to sit in his lap completely bare
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"you /sleep/, and i'll watch over you." he finishes.
it's such a ridiculous thing to hear. toji doesn't need anyone to protect him. he's trained, highly skilled and has watched his own back his entire life.
but hearing that doesn't bring up the burning rush of shame he
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ALTERNATIVELY, yuuji who takes his declaration that he will NOT touch him no matter what, in any way that isn't strictly platonic - so he takes satoru by surprise and climbs into his lap, straddles him and boxes him in against the back of the couch they're sitting on
⚠️ goyuu
gojo who promises himself he won't touch yuuji until he's no longer his student, shooting down all his advances and requests after they sort of mutually confess, limiting himself to the occasional slightly less than platonic touching and gentle close-mouthed kisses -
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"you know you wouldn't be able to get up or shove me off fast enough, right?" he retorts.
yuuji hums, perfectly content. his hands trail little circles over his skin, caressing down the shells of his ears and playing with the ends of his hair.
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the blanket they share.
yuuji pulls him closer with soft hands around his jaw, sliding higher into his hair, until toji is half on top of him with his cheek pressed into his chest. his body tenses without his input, but it is nice. he can hear yuuji's heartbeat like this,
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thumping a steady and serene beat right underneath his ear.
"there. you sleep-" yuuji starts, and he immediately starts to lift off his chest. the younger man, using the strength he rarely does on him, pulls him back down over his chest with a thump.
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if you're throwing the word pe/dophile around because of fictional characters i'll assume you've never had to deal with anything that traumatizing and damaging in your real life - and while i'm happy for you, you're doing real damage to people who have
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bee got me thinking abt yuuji being so used to taking care of other people and never letting others do the same for him and now i'm SAD. MY BABY.
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arms resting loosely and prepared at his sides could never be.
yuuji keeps playing with his hair, happy to pet him like a cat for now. as toji feels his eyelids grow heavier, he wonders if yuuji will really stay up and guard his sleep, or inevitably fall asleep like that,
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they’ve been lazing around for hours now, completely content in simply spending time with each other, indulging in the hobby they cultivated into a bonding activity of their own so many years ago.
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i don't really care what happens in the official manga anymore, i'll still be back here tomorrow to look for content of my loves because they make me happy. no matter what happens i'm not dropping them 👍🏼 goodnight
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would have expected. it just settles inside his chest, a barely there warmth sparking somewhere between his ribs.
even the simple fact that yuuji didn't ask doesn't fill him with dread or disgust at himself for being so obvious.
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“i’d rather live with nothing but the memory of yuuji-kun than not have you at all.”
satoru leans into the hold around him and raises a hand to envelop yuuji’s own over his cheek, the faint sound of rings meeting loud in the silent room.
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just dig into the first drawer from the bed-
yuuji tugs on his hair a little, effectively shutting down his mental mapping of the room.
"i can hear you thinking, you know." he tells him, a little note of irritation apparent in his voice. he's probably frowning his
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small eyebrows down at him, and the image makes toji chuckle.
he mentally shrugs, and gives in. wraps his arms around yuuji's waist, lays his head fully on his stomach, and sighs.
he's warm, and he fits perfectly in his arms, comfortable in the way a sleepless night with his
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@honk_honkhonkk
i feel like yuuji would look up to him for being so strong in the field even without cursed energy 🥹 since yuuji also favors combat as he learns how to use and control his ce
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he's clearly not listening, either ignorant or uncaring of the very real risk toji always feels looming over him, and his head races despite the calm slowly settling in his bones.
he's big enough to shield yuuji from view, and he knows the dresser is within reach, he could
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i think soooo often about fight club arc yuuji meeting gojo-sensei while still trying to pretend he doesn't know who he is. keeping up the charade and the cool attitude, and it really does something for gojo because he starts to shamelessly flirt with yuuji
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🩸🐯
choita + somno?
uhh that art made me think of yuuji in choso's lap don't look at me
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soon they’re both lying back on the couch as the movie plays on without them, trading slow kisses and quiet giggles into one another’s mouths. it’s just gentle touching and happy exploration of territory they’ve mapped out countless times before, and not a means to an end
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watching movies and talking animatedly about the stories turns into them leaning into each other’s spaces, which turns into them talking in more hushed tones even though it’s only the two of them in the room, completely lost in each other
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he keens, hips bucking up to chase it.
“try. /again/.”
his heartbeat speeds up once he catches on, his palms sweating. his cock throbs, in desperate need of release, and it spells the end for him.
“big… brother.” he chokes out, shivering in... shame? “please.”
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he stays frozen until he sees the little dots pop up to indicate gojo's typing, then he scrambles for the phone, heart in his throat.
😎
naughty naughty, yuuji-kun.
not even asking how your sensei's day has been first?
🐯
THAT WASN'T MEANT FOR YOU I'M SO SORRG
HIW DO I DELETE
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yuuji’s legs are bent at the knees to accommodate satoru’s waist between them, and satoru himself lies his head down on his chest, hands still under his shirt and tracing mindless lines over the skin of his ribs, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
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🔞
gojo stripping yuuji down and pressing him into the mattress and fucking him like that while he's still completely dressed, down to his dress shoes. only a couple buttons undone on his button up and cock pulled out through his fly so he can fuck into yuuji nice and deep
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he feels dizzy looking at this. who knew gojo-sensei was so built? he had an inkling, with how often he got manhandled during their sparring sessions, not to mention how... firm his body felt, whenever yuuji managed to get a hit in.
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the movie reaches a crescendo, an emotional moment and song catching their attention, and they part from each other with a quiet click of their lips to look at the screen together.
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his voice is rough, like he’s just swallowed glass, and he sounds deeply satisfied as he says “good job.”
yuuji squirms and whines until his hand stops, panting up at the ceiling in disbelief until choso chuckles and sets his leg back down to rise up.
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yuuji starts playing with his hair as the ending plays out, and satoru tries not to close his eyes and lean into the touch like a cat, captivated by the story’s climax.
when it's finished, they both sit in contemplative silence.
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his texting app is open on gojo-sensei's contact. the photo sits there, unmistakably him. and underneath:
✔️ read
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and those eyes burn into him from the screen.
he tears his own away, afraid if he stares at them for too long gojo-sensei will somehow /know/.
but in doing so, his eyes instead trail down and get stuck there.
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he hesitantly lets his eyes roam down the stretch of pale skin, caught between mortification and a burning curiosity.
he takes in the grin splitting gojo's face, looking just a little too smug. his hair is down, the familiar blindfold around his neck instead,
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so by the time he picks one photo he feels a mess.
his hair is shower-fluffy and messy over his forehead, his face is a little flushed, his lips visibly red from him worrying it between his teeth, and he's wearing only a soft yellow shirt and black boxers.
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it reminds him of the time choso first discovered gummy treats, marveling at their little shapes, and he squirms in place, unsure of how to feel.
choso opens his mouth, and yuuji watches in muted horror as his pink tongue swipes over one of his fingers, licking it clean.
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meat of his thighs, using the grip to bring his hips back every time the car jostles them, taking advantage of every bump to disguise the way he's moving yuuji's clothed ass over his bulge, rutting up against him and barely bothering to be subtle about it.
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it’s making his toes curl into the carpet.
he’s coating choso’s hand, the slide of his palm easy around him with how slick it’s become, and the sounds fill up the room along with yuuji’s harsh breathing.
he finds his voice, panting “like that feels good, fuck-”
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