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meowkn · 3 months

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Sweet lies and nectarines

Choso x reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Angst, semi-enemies to lovers, a lot of feelings, normal au ,smut, lots of analogies 💀

Tags: fem reader, angsty, fluff, cunnilingus, aftercare,

Unkept promises, revelations, discarded feelings, buried secrets in skin. You and Choso were two sides of the same coin. You could never truly be rid of him, there’s always that one thing that will bring you to him, physically or just in memory. You tried to fight the memories, but how could you fight when you’re on the same side? How could you fight when the one you’re supposed to fight is beside you, or rather, in your heart.

Rather than being cool for the summer, you were back in your hometown, soaking up the wind. Words fell from your old friends mouths as they welcomed you back into the town you grew out of. The charming smile you wore as they grabbed your arms and dragged you towards the small party on the beach, had them all fooled, but that didn’t matter as your toes touched the warm sand of the beach.

There was one face that wasn’t pleased to see you back in town, Choso caught sight of your red bikini, compared to the dull colors of everyone else around, the colors that poured out of you were like sun on a dark day. You caught his eye and yet he didn’t smile or even come over to welcome you back in town, after all these years. He looks disgusted, his long, dark hair blowing in the warm wind. He turned on his heel and left the wall he was leaning on. You watched him as he left, your heart throbbing in your chest, the anger boiling in your veins as you watched the man who swore by you only years ago, look at you with such acrimony and bitterness. Those feelings were quickly drowned out by the feeling of wet, cold hands wrapping around your waist and picking you up. You were tossed into the cold water, your friends giggling as they watched your eyes widen. “Welcome back home!” They all squealed as they joined you in the water. The taste of the saltwater filling your lungs was a much different taste to the air you had grown accustomed to in the city, a taste of who you were, a taste of the memories you buried deep down.

You choked on the water.

You gasped as you came up for air, your hair clinging to your wet face. Your friends were giggling and splashing each other, not noticing your disdain for this whole day, and if this is your first day in this town, god, your summer is fucked.

You could hear your friends gossiping and you swam over to join them, to hear the latest things going on in this old town. A lot has changed, the town you used to be so familiar with has changed, but you know the town hasn’t changed, it’s the people that have. Nothing in the gossip and rumors stick out to you, except for one thing, you hear Choso’s name and you pipe up almost involuntarily. “Wait, what happened with Choso?” You ask, your voice silencing the sound of overlapping gossip.

Your friends stare at you with wide eyes, like deers caught in headlights.

“Someone said they saw him hooking up with a girl at the cove.” One of them speaks up.

They all know your history with him, how close you two were, before the incident.

You can feel your heart in your throat.

Thump

It’s deathly silent, the sound of the seagulls squawking in the distance pulls you out of your head.

“Good for him.” You say, flashing that charming smile that you’ve perfected so well.

“I should get home, I need to finish unpacking my suitcase.”

You leave the water, your friends watching as you dry off with your towel, quietly whispering to each other, whispers they probably don’t want you to hear, yet you hear them anyway.

You pull your shorts on over your bikini and slip into your sandals.

The taste of the saltwater stained your mouth as you walked off the beach and onto the streets, greeting merchants who claimed they remembered you and told you that you’ve grown up so much.

You walked until you forgot where you were going, you walked until you came across a familiar pair of black boots.

You looked up and were greeted by the same scowl that you saw earlier, yet somehow filled with more disdain. His eyes drank you in, your wet hair, the water droplets glistening on your skin, the leather jacket thrown over your bikini, and the way your legs were longer than he remembered.

“What are you doing back here?”

The tone of his voice made you forget any jealousy and sadness you felt and filled you with the resentment you’d become oh so familiar with feeling.

“Am I not allowed here?”

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he looked you up and down again, you were vibrant, almost nauseatingly so to Choso, the dull colors of the town so much less appealing to him now that he sees you.

“You’ve clearly changed.” He says, his voice low as if he’s whispering.

It’s true, you no longer fit into this town, not that you think that the city changed you, but you were definitely shaped into a different woman now. You were someone people of the town would called ‘pretentious’. But is it really so pretentious to want more for yourself? To escape the life that had caused you so much grief?

“So have you. I never would’ve expected you to be the playboy type.” You say, it came out more bitter than you would’ve liked.

His dark eyes shot up at you, his lips forming a tight line. He hated the way you looked so smug while saying that, he hated knowing that the smug smile was fake.

He hated the way he knew you didn’t mean it.

“I never wanted to see your face again.” He says harshly, his tone sending chills down your spine. You freeze, your hands clenching at your side.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m surprised you can see anything with your head up your ass.”

Choso looks you in the eyes, with that same, piercing look that he gave you the day you left. He turns around and walks away, not offering you anymore rage fuel or acknowledgment. You stare at the empty space he was just standing, the smell of his cologne still lingering. You wanted him to come back and flood you in the scent, the warm scent of nutmeg and smoke overwhelming your senses.

You wanted to scream at him.

You wanted him to see you.

You wanted him to know you.

You wanted to make him cry.

You wanted to tell him you still loved him.

The two of you were like a hungry dog and a t-bone steak only slightly out of reach, there was something to be had but you couldn’t have it. It hurt.

Though, it wasn’t the memories that hurt, not the love, but the attachment that hurt. It is the expectation that hurts. The imagined future that is now broken, that hurts.

These thoughts ran through your mind as you walked to your house, your old childhood home, the one that is so familiar yet so forgotten. You’re house sitting for your mom while shes on a vacation.

The water ran down your back as you scrubbed away the sand, the saltwater, the unrelenting thoughts.

The bathroom was smaller than you remembered it being, the mirror still having that same crack you put it in when you were younger, you dried off in that mirror, watching through the fog as your hair clings to your face.

Your bedroom composed of clutter and memories you forgot, is the only room in the house that hasn’t been touched. You run your fingers over the dusty picture frames, the reflection of you in your towel falling onto them. You inspected the posters of your favorite movies, bands, and celebrities before settling down on the desk chair and going through your old cds.

You bite your lip as you come across the the cd you burned with Choso, running your fingers over the dust covered case, the polaroids taped onto it. You set it down on your desk before getting up to get dressed.

You let yourself be convinced to head to the cove tonight for a party, your friends saying that this is your first night back in town, you can’t spend it being locked inside. You regret ever making friends like them.

You meticulously put on your lipstick, the cherry shade you’ve been using since highschool.

You slipped into the one dress you brought and threw your jacket over it.

You walked over to the cove, the one place that hasn’t changed, guys endlessly flirting with girls, the sight of red solo cups scattered everywhere and some sort of dirt on the ground. You grab a cup and head over to where your friends are flirting with men who’s egos are nearly suffocating.

You let them talk you into drinking until you got a headache, you made up a weak excuse to leave and stumbled out of the cove, avoiding all of the guys who offered to take you home. You walked along the street back to your house, still drinking from your cup, your steps unsteady and lazy.

You took a step with one foot then another with the other, almost as if you were walking on a tightrope, giggling and talking to yourself as you walked. The street lights illuminating you like a spotlight.

You tossed your cup into the grass, taking off your jacket as you continue to walk, letting the chilled summer night air kiss your skin. You slip your shoes off and carry them in your hands, the platforms hurting your feet. The concrete scratched at your feet.

A car light followed behind you slowly, pulling up beside you, driving slowly, you could hear a voice calling out to you, but it was hazy and distant, you kept walking.

“Are you listening to me?” Choso’s voice rings out in your ears, you pause, looking at the car that know has the window rolled down, a confused and agitated Choso in the drivers seat.

“What are you doing out so late?”

Your heart jumped in your chest as his face filled your vision, the drinks in your body making your stomach churn as you came up with a response. “What’s it to you?” You retort, looking away from his car as you continued to walk, your steps slowly turning into stumbles. You can’t tell if you’re shaking because of Choso or because of the alcohol. He continues to drive slowly along side you. “Let me take you home. You’ve clearly had one too many.” He says in the snarky, condescending tone you’ve become so familiar with from him. You don’t respond as you continue to walk, closing your eyes and trying to drown out the sound of his music playing in the radio.

“Get into the car.” Choso says, slamming his foot on the brakes of his 1983 Volkswagen Jetta, the engine squealing.

“You either get in or I’ll get out and throw you inside.”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him through the car window, you stop walking. The look of annoyance on his face would be amusing if you weren’t so tired. He leans over the passenger seat and opens the door, gesturing for you to get in and sit down. You slowly get into the car, closing the door behind you before buckling up.

His car was clean and smelt of leather.

He let out an annoyed sound as he started driving again. “What are you doing out so late?” He asks again, glancing at you from the side of his eye.

“I thought you never wanted to see my face again?” You ask, ignoring his question as you lean against the passenger door, the cool glass of the window touching your skin.

He goes silent, the only sound in the car is the radio. Choso would never admit to you that he wants to make sure your safe, that he missed seeing your face, that he missed your glow and aura in this empty town. That would insinuate that there’s still feelings there. His hands tighten over the steering wheel. “Do you always have to be so difficult?” He rasps, trying to contain his emotions as he turns his eyes back towards the road.

You glances at him from the corner of your eye, his black hair in his face, the way his eyelashes flutter over his big, pretty eyes makes your heart throb. “I didn’t ask for you to take me home.” You say, looking out the window, though if you would’ve looked at him a bit longer you would’ve made eye contact.

Choso stares at you, almost analyzing you. He wants to be in your mind, like he use to be. He drives in silence for a while, tapping along to the best of the song playing in the background. Choso used to understand you, he used to be the person you ran to when you needed solace. He watched as you tucked your hair behind your ear, your gaze trained on the passing landscape. You were still so pretty, so beautiful. You were so close to him yet so far away.

“You can at least be thankful.” He says, turning his gaze back towards the road, biting on the inside of his cheek as he bit down all the words he really wanted to say to you, all the whys, all the what ifs, all the unkept secrets and promises to each other, he wanted to talk about all of it.

The streetlights illuminate the car as he turns down the music, the sound of grasshoppers and fireflies fill your ears as you peak at him, his eyes focused on the road, so many thoughts running through his head yet you can’t seem to identify one. Your hands clenched onto the heels in your lap. So many feelings left unspoken.

For a while the two of you just drive in silence, until you turn onto the street your house resides on.

“So, how have you been?” You ask him, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to have a conversation with him that’s not filled with resentment and regret, but it’s hard to start.

He glances at you, an eyebrow raised.

“I’ve been doing as well as I can.” He says, brushing his bangs out of his face as he leans his head back. “I’m surprised you care to even ask.”

Of course you care.

“Of course I care.”

“Just because I left doesn’t mean I ever stopped caring.”

Choso snorts, shaking his head as he pulls into your driveway before putting the car in park and turning to face you.

“You didn’t just leave.”

Your face scrunches up, you know it’s true, you *didn’t* just leave. You left and destroyed everything before you fled the scene. You destroyed him like you are.

You could feel the memories snowing down onto you, the feelings you buried deep down.

“That’s not fair, Choso.” You say, unbuckling your seatbelt, trying to keep your composure.

“It wasn’t fair when you left me.” He snaps, his fist tightening over the steering wheel. “It wasn’t fair when you told me that you hated me, it wasn’t fair when you cried in my arms, it wasn’t fair when you tore out my heart and stepped on it.” He continues, trying not to raise his voice as he keeps his eyes trained ahead, not wanting to look at you. He fears if he sees the emotion on your face he’ll break.

You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out is a croak, your eyes wide as you process his words. Your eyes burn as you try to come up with an appropriate response that’s not a weak apology.

"Do you think it was easy for me to leave you? That it was a fun walk in the park?" You say, looking up at him, unshed tears glistening in your eyes. Your heart is beating so fast it could be mistaken as the beat to a rock song. Your voice breaks as you speak up again. "No, it wasn't. It was gut-wrenching and heartbreaking. It made me hate myself for how much it hurt you. But I had to do it for my own sake.” Your head was spinning and you felt sick. Confronting all of the feelings you buried deep down inside of you at once was not a good feeling.

“Do you know how incredibly selfish you sound right now?” Choso barked at you, his eyes drilling into you. The ones that used to hold so much love for you now filled with coldness and hurt.

His voice lingers in the air of the car, like humid air that hasn’t move for days. His words stick to your skin, filth you can’t wash away.

"Yes, I do." You whisper, blinking back crystal tears, the salty taste of the ocean coming back to your mouth but it’s no longer saltwater. "I was being selfish. I know how selfish I was when I left you and how much it hurt you. But I still had to do it. To save myself."

You wish you could go back, back to when you were walking home alone, giggling to yourself without a thought in the world. Now your feelings are pouring out and you can’t stop them.

“So you fled instead of facing your issues? We were supposed to be a team, Y/n.“

"I couldn't face my issues with you!

"You didn't understand at all, you just kept pushing me away and shutting yourself off from me. You wouldn't talk to me or open up to me, no matter how much I tried to reach out. How was I supposed to face my issues when I couldn't get any help from you?"

The silence rings out in the car, the sound of crickets almost like a dog whistle in your ear. Choso looks away from you, settling back against his seat, running his fingers through his hair. The anger and tension melts away and leaves a deep sadness and yearning between the two of you. You could smell the sorrow on his breath, and feel the heartbreak in the distance between us. It was almost tangible, it was as if you were both on the verge of breaking down.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your voice breaking the deafening silence.

You wanted to reach out and touch him, make him look at you, see you for once. You wanted him to tell you everything was alright, that you didn’t do anything wrong. You wanted him to place his hand on your cheek and wipe away your tears like he used to.

“You should get inside, it’s late.”

His voice broke your thoughts, he was sending you away. You couldn’t let him send you away. Your head was pounding, stomach stirring, your emotions at a new high.

Your hand reaches out and cups his cheek, you can see his look of shock and confusion. You feel just as shocked, you have no clue what you’re doing all you know is that you can’t stop.

“I want to stay here with you.”

Choso looks at you, you can tell he’s confused, the emotions flickering through his eyes. You notice the way his ears turn pink and the way he tries to divert his eyes but they always wound up back on you.

Your hand gently caresses his cheek, tracing over the hairs that fell in his face.

“I can’t stay away from you.” You whisper, your voice soft in the space of the car. You can hear his heart beating, or maybe it’s yours. You hear him swallow and his gaze falls from your eyes.

Choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, watching every time you bite your lip or speak. He wanted to wipe that eyelash off your cheek. He could hear you speaking but he couldn’t understand your words before your lips planted on his, the sensation catching him off guard, the warmness wrapping him up like a blanket. You were sweet like nectarines but tart like cherries. He could feel his thoughts blur as his eyes fell closed as he returns your kiss.

Your hand fell from his cheek as you pulled away, your breath coming out in small gasps. You could feel the sting of his lips on yours, you wanted more, your body begged for more of his lips, more of him.

You could see his eyes open and the way he’s looking at you, no longer in confusion and shock but instead with indecision. The tension that was previously in the car coming back in another form.

Your words fell from your lips as you scrambled to say something, anything to get him to stop looking at you like that with those eyes that hold all the beautiful poems behind their pupils. You wanted him to look at you but not like that, not like he would drop everything if you asked.

“I know what I did wasn’t fair but I-“

“Will you shut up for one second?” His voice interrupts you, his hand on the back of your neck, and your wondering how it got there. He’s a lot closer than he was fifteen seconds ago.

He kisses you, he kisses you with all the power he could muster, making up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds your lips hadn’t been touching. You could feel the kiss burning into you as his fingers curled around your neck, pulling you closer to him. Your heart is missing beats and your hands are moving faster than your mind. You taste him and realize you have been hungry.

You felt like you were losing your mind. Did people lose their minds when they loved someone?

You could taste the memories on his lips, the way the secrets resurfaced when your tongues brushed together. Your lips spoke of promises and unspoken words.

Your hand found his shoulder and dug into the flesh, you could feel his breath catch against your lips as he pulled you closer.

He wanted to pull you out of the seat, pull you into his and have you in his grasp, the heat of your body against his. You can feel your heart becoming liquid as he deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips so he could slip it in your mouth. His hand slid down your neck and rested on your back, with slow tenderness that was soothing to you.

He pulls away leaving you with airy breaths and pants, his voice is raspy and soft as he speaks, his fingers a gentle breeze over the fabric of your dress.

“I want you, your lips, your bones, your body heat, the scars you leave. I want to see how beautiful those eyes look beneath me.”

How could someone who was filled with resentment for you say something as beautiful as that? You wonder if he ever truly resented you or if he just wanted to resent you. Love and hate are the same, no?

Your fingers dug deeper into his shoulder, your lips meeting his again, the tenderness gone and instead a passion fills it’s spot.

“I want you to say my name like it’s a prayer.” He rasps against your lips, his hands finding the small of your back as your breath hitches in your throat. Your heartbeat so loud that you fear you’ll wake your neighbors up.

“Please don’t run away again.” He sounded so desperate, it was beguiling, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you and that was the part that scared you. There were so many feelings and thoughts flooding the car you were sure you were going to drown in it all.

“I won’t.” You whisper, your words punctuated with kisses to his cheeks, your lips a caress against his jawline. Your lips trace light kisses against his jaw, along his collarbone. Your breaths mingle and your hearts beat in the same rhythm.

One second your in his arms pressed against your front door than the next you’re in your bed, his body overtop of yours. His hair messily falling into his face as he places kisses down your neck, his calloused fingers slowly tracing down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The taste of his tongue lingers in your mouth as he plants kisses all over your skin like seeds, it feels like the start of forever, goodbye to the past.

“I forgot how fun you are to kiss.” He mumbles against your skin, kissing down your bare stomach.

“Is this okay?” He asked, looking up at you from his position between your legs. You nod and brush the hair out of his face so it’s no longer obstructed. You watched as he slowly moved your panties to the side, his fingers brushing over your cunt. His tongue tasted you, swirling around the soft flesh of your thighs before finally tasting your clit. He’s gentle with you, squeezing your hand as his tongue lapped around your clit, licking and kissing your cunt.

Your soft moans and whines filled the room as he teased your pussy, your nerves are on fire and your head feels light, but it feels so good. It’s as he knew how hungry you were for him and he was giving you bits and crumbs before giving himself to you.

He’s nose deep in your pussy, both of his arms hooked around your thighs. Your legs feel limp as he tastes and drinks you up. Your hand is lost in his hair, gripping to it like it’s the only thing holding you together. You can feel your body twitching as his tongue moves inside of you. He moaned against your cunt like he was the one getting fucked. Your back arches from the vibrations coursing through your body.

He pulls away from you clit and gives your inner thigh a gentle kiss and bite, earning a whimper from you, your body shivering on the mattress.

He moved up so his lips could meet yours again in a soft kiss, his hands feeling up your body, tracing the curves and lines. His eyes gaze down at you as he aligns his hips with yours, his body pressing against every inch of you.

You wanted him, you wanted more of him, you were touching him, but you weren’t really touching him. You needed to feel him. Your hands sink into his fine black hair, tugging him closer, he grunts, pulling away from your lips with a small awed expression.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers. “You’ve always been so pretty.”

Your body ached with need, you could feel the arousal building up inside of you as you pressed yourself harder against him.

He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them off with one swift movement, the sound of the pants hitting the floor ringed through your ears as you took in the sight before you.

You suck in a breath while he sucks on your neck, leaving unforgiving hickeys. Even while his lips were planted on your neck his eyes remained on yours, watching as they fluttered every time he touched a sensitive spot.

Your pants and breaths filled the room as you felt his arousal against yours, your skin was hot, scorching as he painted his emotions onto your body. You anticipated his every move. You watched him pull down his boxers and tease your entrance with his tip, you could feel every twitch and throb that went through his body.

He lifted your hips as he pushed inside of you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as your fingers dug into his shoulder.

“I still haven’t forgiven you.” He whispers in a sultry rasp as he thrusts his full length inside of you, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Fuck me like you hate me then.” You whisper, your finger tracing down his chest softly. You bit down on your lip as his words echoed through your brain. Forgiveness was the last thing on your mind right now, all you could think about was him, as long as you had him in your grasp you didn’t mind.

“I do hate you.” He whispers, kissing your lips as he thrusts deeper into you, his fingertips lightly gracing your skin like you’re the finest prophet chosen by the sun herself.

There were no more words to be said, you spoke in tongues, fingertips, and soft touches.

Your moans echoed through his brain, his movements filled with an undying passion and starvation, a hunger for the person he once loved. His body blurred into yours as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him closer into your body. Your nails scratching at his skin.

His face buried in the crook of your neck as he rut into you, kissing your soft skin. You’re a heap of moans and sweat and tears as he thrusts harder into you, his pants filling your ears. You feel nauseatingly alive and warm.

He fucked you hard, his hands tightening around your body to hold you still. He worshiped you with his hate, broken moans escaping your lips every time his hips slammed against yours.

Your body twitched against his, your stomach burned with an overwhelming sensation as he hits your sweet spot. You felt like you were drowning again, drowning in him, in the feelings, memories, sensations. You let out one last whine and whimper as he thrusts into you, your body giving into it all, twitching and tightening around him. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he came, his low whimpers filling your ears as his head fell next to yours.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his hand cupping your cheek. He gazed into your glazed over eyes, watching the emotions run through them as you came down from the high, your body twitching.

“Mhm.” You mumble, you could barley feel your legs and the hunger you once had was satisfied, but there was something left in your heart.

He touched you with a kiss before moving off of you and laying on his side.

He was so beautiful, the way the tiredness filled his half lidded eyes and the way his hair clings to his sweat covered forehead.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers as he sits you up on the bed before picking you you up in your arms. It’s almost scary how well he knows your house, the memories of the two of you hanging out here fills your mind as he sets you on the toilet seat while he starts the shower.

He helps you in and helps you scrub off all the filth on your body, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he washes your hair, making sure to be gentle with each delicate strand. He washed you and with every sud that ran down the drain, evidence for a love that transcends hunger appeared.

He washed your face and laid you down in bed, holding you tight against him until you fell asleep. Everything in this town was so much brighter with you.

That morning you woke up to cold sheets and stupid hopes.

#choso kamo #choso #choso x you #choso x reader #jjk choso #jjk x y/n #jjk #choso smut #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso angst #choso fic #i love him #jjk angst #angst #jjk fluff #sweet lies and nectarines

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stellamancer · 10 months

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cher(ease) (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: i want to preface this by saying: yes, i know i posted a fic yesterday too. no, i am not actually that prolific. this was written for the willow house Meet Fruit collab. actually, i wrote it right after @willowser suggested it, but i waited to post it because I was actually a little unhappy with it when I was done writing it initially and i figured some time away from it might help. it did. a little. i think. now i’m not sure any more..

contains: gender neutral reader, typical satoru gojo antics, some small manner of sexual tension

wc: 1.4k

You love cherries.

They are, without a doubt, your favorite fruit; tart, sweet and easy to eat with their stems serving as a cute little handle. It does suck having to deal with eating around the pits, but your beloved cherries are worth the inconvenience. It’s truly, truly a shame that they’re only really available in the summer, but that just means you need to eat your fill when they’re in season.

Which is why, when you stumble across a display of them at the market, rows of cartons filled to the brim with bright, plump, juicy red cherries, you end up buying a carton or three without a second thought.

In retrospect, it might have been better to show some restraint. Maybe you had hungry eyes, or were just a touch too excited, or maybe it was even the fact that you’d spent an unspeakable amount of money on just cherries. Regardless, in order to attempt to absolve yourself of some of the buyer’s regret that’s clearly haunting you after splurging on fruit you benevolently decide to share them with the students and your fellow staff members at Jujutsu High.

Or at least, that had been your intent.

“Oh hey,” Satoru Gojo greets you casually as you walk into the staff room, his feet propped up on the table so he can lean his chair back as far as possible. In one of his hands is a cherry, one of your cherries, hanging delicately from its stem. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing?” you ask him reflexively, ignoring his question outright as a surge of annoyance courses through your veins. There’s a part of you that feels weird about suddenly feeling possessive over the cherries. You brought them to share with everyone and everyone includes Gojo. It shouldn’t be a big deal that he's gone ahead and helped himself to some without asking, and yet you still find yourself feeling agitated.

"I was hungry," he replies nonchalantly, popping the cherry in his mouth.

"And you thought it would be okay to snack on my cherries?"

Gojo shifts forward in his chair and offers you an easy-going smile that only makes you scowl more. “There were so many in the fridge I’d thought you’d brought them to share.”

Your instinct is to argue, to be obtusely contrarian with him, but the fact of the matter is that he’s right, so you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you sit yourself down and stare at the half full carton of cherries on the table.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo wiggling around, not-so-subtly vying for your attention like an overly excitable child. You ignore him and instead choose to think of the rising cost of produce. It was truly an ungodly amount you spent on those cherries and you know for sure that a year ago the same amount of them would have cost marginally less. When you thought about sharing them with the students, the blow to your wallet seemed bearable, their smiles worth the cost and more. But rather than your students' darling faces all you can see is the image of Gojo’s face, his cheeks stuffed with cherries like he’s a squirrel feasting on nuts. It’s annoying. Maybe you can get him to pony up and pay you back for a portion of what he’s eaten. Surely the heir to the Gojo clan can pay for some of the cherries he’s gobbled up.

“Hey…” He’s whining loudly now, any attempts at being subtle abandoned. You consider ignoring him more, but think better of it and look in his direction. Unsurprisingly, he’s pouting, his perfectly moisturized lips puckering out, and you’re glad that his blindfold detracts from what is otherwise a disgustingly handsome face. “Why the long face?”

He’s mocking you. He’s totally mocking you. Not that you’d expect anything different from him. Rather than grace him with an actual answer, you shoot him a pointed look. There’s no goddamn way that he doesn’t know. But still, Gojo plays his favorite role and tilts his head innocently. When you don’t say anything more he exclaims, “Oh! I know! You must be hungry.”

Again, he’s not wrong, but this time he’s not exactly right either.

He grabs another cherry, this time holding it up in your direction. He grins as he propels it toward your mouth. “Here. Say ‘ah~’”

“Gojo, you are not feeding me.”

He ignores you, insistently pressing the cherry to your lips as he speaks, his voice an octave lower, "They taste really good, you know."

The sexy drop of his voice is nothing short of deliberate�� a tried and true tactic of his meant to get under your skin. You glare at him, your agitation clear as day. He is, as expected, completely unfettered, the cherry still flush against your lips.

Your options at this point are to: wait until he gets bored and drops the cherry, possibly onto the floor— wasting it or shamefully accept it and endure him gloating about it for the rest of the day. As much as you’d love to waste Gojo’s time and sit at the table in a silent stalemate, you have other things to do. Important things.

So you open your mouth wide, wider than necessary, and use your teeth to rip the cherry from Gojo’s grasp in the most unattractive way possible.

“Yay!” he cheers, choosing to focus on seeing just what he wants to see instead acknowledging that you obviously don’t want his offering. You consider, for one wild second, spitting it back in his face. However, you don’t and just drop the cherry into your open palm. Now what? Do you eat the cherry or just toss it? Frankly, it feels like a lose-lose situation either way, so you might as well go with the option that gives Gojo less satisfaction: you toss it into the trash can.

“Aw…” His lips jut out to form an excessive pout.

“I already told you: you are not feeding me.”

“You’re no fun."

“I’m plenty of fun,” you dead pan at him, scowling. “I’m just not your plaything.”

“Meaning you won’t feed me either?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even if I say please?”

“Nope.”

“Hmph.” He’s being overly dramatic and you both know it. “Guess I will enjoy the cherries all on my own, then.”

His voice drops again. The second time makes your body feel a little bit weird, but you remain largely immune to his antics, electing to grab another cherry to eat over paying him any mind.

But Gojo reaches for the cherries right when you do, obviously and intentionally going for the same one you are, and your fingers brush against one another. You scowl and rather than play some weird version of finger footsie, you go for a different cherry.

Annoyed, you shoot him another glare, or at least, you intend to, but he’s pulled his dumb blindfold down and that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s up to no good. You can already feel your blood pressure rising. Dealing with him like this is even more of a pain than usual.

He holds your gaze, his eyes clear as the summer sky, glimmering, as he presses the cherry to his mouth every so gently, as if he’s kissing it. You watch, almost entranced, your mouth suddenly dry. Gojo rolls it over his lips, parting them ever so slightly to press the damn fruit further in, his tongue darting out and—

You force yourself to look away, rolling your eyes as you do. “What the hell are you doing? You look stupid.”

Gojo merely hums, chewing on the cherry. You hope he bites into the pit and dies of cyanide poisoning.

He tosses a few more cherries into his mouth before he speaks, another seductive drawl, and though you would never admit it, you think your immunity grows weaker every time he uses that damn tone of voice. “Hey.”

“What,” you deadpan, glancing at him.

Gojo grins at you and his lips part just slightly, calling your attention to them again. He reaches up and slowly pulls a cherry stem from his mouth. It’s looped into a little knot and the sight of it throws you back to your middle school days— your classmates giggling quietly to themselves over the implications of things like tongue tied cherry stems and candies unwrapped using one’s tongue alone.

“So,” he starts, his stupid blue eyes shining with shameless amusement, “have you heard what they say about people who can do this?”

He grins at you, far too pleased with himself for his own damn good. You know the answer he’s looking for. And he should know that hell will freeze over before you give it to him.

“Yeah. They call them idiots for putting the damn cherry stem in their mouths.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #i actually do not eat a lot of cherries #i thought i was allergic for the longest time #actually yellow nectarines are my summer fruit of choice #i had one the other day and it was just so juicy and sweet #oh the title #it's obviously a pun but i don't know if the fic really implies enough that the 'ease' part refers to how 'easily' gojo did the thing #but someone like him could easily tie a knot from a cherry stem or unwrap a starburst #he's a freak #i hate him go to hell gojo #infinite loop!verse

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