Genre: Smut
Content: Dacryphilia, edging, blindfold but not really, somewhat toxic
Tag: @aesthetically-mine [not sure why i can't tag]
Meanings:
[N] = Name
[S/N] = Surname
A/N: i want to punch gojo in the face
➴
Despite Gojo's piercing eyes being hidden behind that blindfold of his you could still feel his heated glare through the fabric, burning your skin.
The three students present stand in confusion, not sure what to make of you. "Uh... Who are you?" Itadori awkwardly scratches his head, clearly confused by your presence and why his usually carefree teacher was acting so different.
"[S/N] [N]." You introduce yourself with a grin, flashing your canines.
"Hah? What's with that cocky smile?" Nobara raises an eyebrow your way, and Fushiguro seems like he could care less; Itadori being the only one who looks the slightest bit intrigued.
"Aw... Satoru, you didn't tell your dear students about me?" Your teasing smirk earns you a scowl.
Gojo bites his tongue and lets out a reluctant sigh, uncrossing his arms to shove his hands into his pockets, "[S/N] is an international sorcerer that moves from country to country, one of the only ones."
"Ah! That means he's really good then!"
You shrug Itadori off, "Understatement."
The student's about to make another comment before he's cut off, "[S/N], a moment." You quirk a questioning brow at Gojo but don't say anything, merely following as he leaves.
Once you take your exit, Itadori swiftly turns to his friends, "Don't you think teacher was acting weird?"
Nobara mindlessly answers with a wave of her hand, "He always acts weird." Itadori quietly hums in agreement, knowing full well how “unique” his teacher is, "Well, yeah... but he's just different." The pink haired crosses his arms behind his head, as if thinking for an answer. "Probably because of that [S/N], he doesn't seem to like him." Fushiguro pitches in, "Tch, me neither, that guy reeks of trouble." Nobara clicks her tongue in annoyance.
-
"What are you doing here?" Gojo's pissed off if his aura is anything to go by. "Don't you miss me, Satoru?" The evident lilt in your tone when you say his first name makes him visibly tense; Gojo bites his tongue and looks the other way.
"...Fuck off, just tell me why you're here." His voice is cold – or at least Gojo hopes it comes off as cold. He'd rather die than admit how much you affect him.
You're silent as you step forward, inching ever so closer. Gojo doesn't budge from his spot, even when an arm slips around his waist. "I just craved you." Gojo can't help the shiver that escapes him when you whisper into his ear, "That's all."
That's all he is, huh? Just some craving of yours.
He really should push you off when you lean in for a kiss, should officially end things once and for all when you slide your tongue along his – but he doesn't, because as much as he denies it, he craves you all the same.
Gojo's pants come out muffled by your lips on his, him grounding forward for some friction on his clothed crotch; ironic he detested it so much when he's more desperate than you.
You chuckle at the display, amused at how eager he becomes after just a kiss. Your free hand goes to tug his hair, baring his smooth neck for you to claim. "N-No marks." Gojo's hands fall to your chest, attempting to urge you off his shoulder; everyone would be able to see it if they look hard enough, and they'd know exactly who made it.
