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Utahime stepped out onto the cold tiled floor, water trickling down the curves of her body. She gripped the towel that she had previously hung on the shower rod, wrapping it around herself. After stepping into her bedroom, the cold air nipped at her skin. She made her way to the clothes that she was intending on wearing to bed, which were sloppily draped on her dresser, her teeth chattering from the cold. She put on her camisole that rested just above her belly button and a pair of shorts that definitely did not match with her prude personality. Then, she slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and prepared herself to step out into the cold hallway awaiting her outside the bedroom.
Utahime was planning on eating the leftovers for dinner and going straight to bed until she noticed the pile of essays she had yet to grade. Utahime groaned at the realization and lazily stumbled over to the stack, quietly motivating herself to at least get through half of it. That was until she heard a subtle knock at the door. Who could be knocking at this hour? She thought to herself. She walked over from the table to her front door, her mind flooding with curiosity. She finally made it after what felt like hours for some odd reason and shifted her body weight to her tippy toes to peek out through the peephole.
Satoru Fucking Gojo.
What the hell was he doing here? She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the nonsense that would probably spew out of his mouth. She intertwined her fingers with the lock, twisting them, unlocking the door, and pulling at the handle.
“Hi Utahime!” Gojo said, sounding a bit too excited for just being on her front porch.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Ouch, you don’t seem too happy to see me.”
“Can you give me any good reason why I should be?”
Gojo pushed through the door, inviting himself in and dropping his coat on the nearby table that Utahime usually leaves her keys on. Gojo ventured into the kitchen, opening the fridge as if he were in his own home.
“Gojo! What are you doing?”
“Finding something to munch on, I am starving.” He stuck his head into the fridge, searching for something interesting he could indulge in.
“You still haven’t said why you just suddenly appeared at my doorstep,” Utahime said, expecting an immediate answer.
“Just wanted to check in on my favorite senpai,” he leisurely replied, clearly leaving out major details.
“Do you seriously have nothing better to do? You know, like maybe actually doing your job for a change,” Utahime said, waiting for him to respond with something that would just irritate her more.
“Nope. And if you ask me, I would say I do my job better than you!”
“Good thing I am not asking,” she mumbled under her breath to prevent a response that would just agitate her more.
Just then, Gojo’s eyes spotted a small container of leftover takoyaki and immediately withdrew from the fridge with the leftovers that used to be Utahime’s. “This will do,” he said, practically drooling.
“Not even going to ask?” “Nah.” Utahime scoffed at his indolent behavior. He had left the fridge door wide open, so she took the opportunity to grab a beer with the excuse that she might as well just grab one before closing it.
Utahime is a very busy woman. She was not about to let the fact that Gojo was in her kitchen devouring her leftovers distract her from the fact that she had a goal to get through at least some grading tonight. She walked back over into the living room, her cold beer pressed up against her chest to cool herself down even though her apartment was already freezing. For some reason, she felt so flushed. She tried to grade, she really did, but she could not focus. Utahime stared at the first sheet of paper, rereading the same sentence over and over again, but nothing was getting through to her. She set the stack of papers on her coffee table, reaching for the television remote, and clicked through channels until she decided on a news channel broadcasting more junk. She sat back, crossing one leg over the other while sipping on her beer.
“Whatchu watching?” Utahime’s never lasting peace was broken by that familiar and very agitating voice.
“The news. I was going to bed, but clearly that is no longer an option.” Gojo sat down beside her, the couch weighing down.
“Why is it no longer an option? I am not stopping you,” Gojo said, a facade of innocence plastered on his face. Utahime looked at him while rolling her eyes and then relayed her focus back onto the television, trying to distract herself from Gojo’s previous comment that had not been very appropriate. Gojo leaned back further into the couch, clearly getting more situated than Utahime was comfortable with.
“What the hell are you doing?” Utahime said, her voice growing more impatient by the second.
“Getting comfortable,” Gojo replied, his eyes glued onto the television like this was a normal and everyday occurrence.
“Well stop,” Utahime practically whispered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, shut up, I am trying to listen.”
Gojo snickered, reaching his free hand to the other end of the couch and gripping the nearby blanket. He dropped it, covering the two of them and shielding her from the cold. Utahime remained silent, absentmindedly nuzzling his arm with her forehead. What the hell was she doing? Behind closed doors, she was snuggling with the man that she swears she hates when she should be grading essays. With the sudden epiphany, Utahime stood up and broke from a very odd but comforting position.
“You can find yourself out whenever you are finished loitering in my space, but I am going to bed. I do not know why you are here, but you are not going to ruin my sleep schedule.” Utahime thought she finally did the impossible. She believed she had finally spoken some sense into someone so senseless. That was until he opened his mouth once again.
“Can I come with?” Utahime’s face flushed red, her eyes struggling to meet with his.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You are so inappropriate, Gojo! Address me with respect, I am your senior and you are my kouhai.”
Gojo sat up, his eyes on hers, slowly moving down to her chest and back up again. Although it was quite the meticulous peek, Utahime caught it. He stood up, taking slow steps towards her, his thumb and pointer finger on her chin, tilting her face up towards him. Utahime froze, her eyes looking everywhere but at him in a sorry attempt at avoiding eye contact.
“What are you doing?” Gojo stayed silent, caressing her bottom lip with his thumb.
“What do you think I am doing? I do not want to ruin your sleep schedule.”
They stood there for what seemed like hours before Gojo replaced his thumb with his lips, slowly and carefully pressing against hers. Her eyes went wide before slowly closing. Gojo’s arms snaked around her hips, pulling her closer, her chest pressing up against him. She thought about stopping herself, pushing him away, or even kicking him out, but she simply did not want to. She liked how his tongue felt on hers. She liked that he was pressing up against her. Hell, she even enjoyed the feeling of him pressed up against her.
“Fuck, Gojo,” Utahime broke from their very heated makeout session.
“Is this why you are here? You plan on adding me to your list of hoes you have fucked or something? How low is your ego?”
“First of all, ouch, and second, I never said anything about fucking. You tryna make it to third base with the Gojo Satoru?”
Gojo’s hand slid from Utahime’s hip to the front of her shorts, slipping a hand in and pressing against the dampened spot on her panties.
“Well, based on how wet you are, I will take that as a yes.”
“How highly do you think of yourself, I am still your senpai so-”
Utahime’s scolding was cut short by the finger that suddenly slipped into her wet folds.
“I think pretty highly of myself. I am quite literally in you, so.”
“You are so vulgar,”
Utahime attempted to say, but of course, her own voice betrayed her. A slight moan mixed in with her sentence. Gojo slowly retracted his finger and plummeted deeper inside of her, a moan escaping her lips in the process.
“You feel so good, Hime. Maybe you are worth being added to the list of hoes I have fucked,” Gojo said mockingly.
Utahime wanted to say something, anything, but she just could not. She was so caught up in the fact that Gojo’s fingers were scissoring inside of her, and she was getting off on it. With every thrust and twist of his fingers, the closer Utahime became. The sound of her own betrayal filled the quiet living room, rhythmic, undeniable proof of her body’s reaction that she could not ignore. Heat flushed her face and Utahime kept her eyes tightly shut. Gojo Satoru, her least favorite kouhai, was fingering her in her own living room. Why had Utahime of all people stooped so low? The thoughts kept coming, and with time, so did she. Gojo’s fingers resided inside of Utahime, her entrance gripping on his fingers from her orgasm. She was panting softly, still in disbelief on how wet she had become. After a brief internal debate, she mustered up enough courage to look Gojo in his face. His stupidly hot face.
“Stop looking at me like that, Hime. You are gonna make me come in my pants,” Gojo said teasingly.
“Could you be any more crass? You are so frustrating,” Utahime managed to get out without slurring her words.
“You see, I want to believe that, except you just came on my fingers.” “This is exactly what I me”
Gojo once again silenced Utahime, this time with a deep kiss. His hands made it up her almost sheer tank top, immediately palming her breasts. Her breath hitched with the contact Gojo had made with her skin. To keep her balance, Utahime gripped at Gojo’s hair, her fingers twisting into knots.
“No bra? Looks like you are living life on edge.”
“Why the hell would anyone wear a bra in the comfort of their own home?” Utahime immediately snapped back.
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Utahime was tired of the teasing, tired of his smug commentary, and most of all, tired of him acting like he was the one doing her a favor. For once, she wanted the upper hand, to feel like she was the one in control. Utahime took a fist full of Gojo’s shirt and pulled him down onto the mattress effortlessly. The quick and sudden movement caught him off guard, his usual playful banter caught in his throat as Utahime straddled his hips. For once, he did not have anything to say.
“You talk too much, Satoru,” she purred, her face inches away from his. “Since you are so fond of making yourself at home, why don’t you make yourself useful for once.”
Gojo’s hands hovered above the small of her back before gripping her waist tightly, a smirk breaking through his innocent facade. Her hands made their way to the button of his trousers, playfully circling her fingers around his growing erection. His jaw visibly tightened, and his grip on her waist became firmer. In that moment, she understood why he was the way he is. It felt amazing knowing that she had power over him, that she was the reason behind that helpless expression on his face. She ground on his hardened cock before seamlessly unbuttoning his pants. The sight of the dampened spot on his briefs from the precum made her suck on her bottom lip.
“Fuck Hime, you are killing me. Get on with it will you?” Gojo spoke breathlessly.
“I think I will take my time with you,” Utahime said, simultaneously hooking her fingers into his trousers and slowly pulling them down, freeing his stiffened cock.
Utahime took one last glance at Gojo through her lashes before wrapping her lips around his length. He groaned as his hands found their way to the roots of Utahime’s hair, tangling it in the process. She dipped her head in a steady rhythm that Gojo had soon picked up on as well. Utahime’s lips tightened around him, her tongue not missing a single vein, all while her hands gripped the base of his cock. Gojo joined in on the rhythmic bobbing of Utahime’s head and bucked his hips slightly, causing her to let out a soft moan. The sound of her lips between wet, slick movements was doing more damage to his resolve than any cursed spirit ever could. He watched her through hooded eyes, his hands still buried in her hair, not to lead her, but to anchor himself. He was vibrating with the need to match her rhythm, his hips bucking instinctively against her mouth.
"Hime," he groaned, his head falling back against the mattress as she swirled her tongue around the crown of his head.
"If you do not stop being so good at this, I gonna-“
“You are gonna what, Satoru?” Utahime teased, her voice triggering him more than he already was.
“I thought you were tired,” he managed to rasp out, his voice cracking as she tightened her suction, effectively killing the rest of his smug commentary.
“The only thing I am tired of is you,” Utahime remarked, her lips briefly leaving his girth.
A hearty laugh escaped from him. “It is hard to believe that with you wrapped around me, Hime.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
She was so fed up with him that it genuinely frustrated her. Utahime was so done with him having an overwhelming amount of control over her thoughts and actions. She settled right atop of him, her hands pressing down onto his chest. Gojo groaned as the grip of her thighs tightened around his hips, her clit grinding against his already hardened cock. She set a pace so detrimental that it had Gojo squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his teeth. As much as Utahime wanted to keep teasing Gojo, she was starting to get impatient herself. Her fingers curled into the inside of his boxer briefs, yanking them down impatiently and fully releasing his cock. Utahime’s hands snaked down herself, their destination being her core. Without fully removing her panties, she moved them to the side, revealing her throbbing core, slick and wet. Gojo sucked in a breath, his chest rising and falling. He bucked his cock, brushing against her bare skin. She let out a soft moan that made Gojo bite down on his inner cheek. She began lowering herself down onto his shaft, his hands on her hips guiding himself into her inch by inch. He slowly parted her, stretching her with every push. She planted her hands deeper into his chest to help lower herself, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from the involuntary noises she never thought she would hear from herself.
“Fuck Hime, you are so damn tight,”
Gojo hissed while being fully grounded in her. Utahime felt him throbbing inside of her as she moved up and down slowly, the pace she had once set lost. Gojo’s hand found her nape, and he pulled her down, peppering kisses down until he found her hardened nipple in his mouth. He took the other in his palm, grasping tightly, her nipples pebbled beneath his touch. She tried to hold the noises in, she really did, but now it was just impossible. Her breath hitched, turning into loud moans she could no longer control.
“You are so noisy, Hime,” Gojo remarked, his eyes fixated on her.
Her face was flushed, eyes closed completely, and beads of sweat making their way down her temples to her neck. But he paid even more attention to how her expression shifted as he stretched her more and more, her body twitching around him. His hand found her neck and lowered her head down to his until their lips met. His tongue brushed gently on her lips as if asking for permission to be let in. She whimpered into his mouth, sending chills down his spine and making him buck into her instinctively. Utahime could not tell right from wrong anymore. She was no longer able to decipher her true feelings for Gojo. With all the teasing and constant bickering, she truly believed that she despised him, but the lines were beginning to blur in the heat of their shared breaths.
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The sunlight broke through Utahime’s drawn curtains, the light landing a direct hit on her face. Her eyes flickered, struggling to keep open due to her eyes trying to adjust to the newly found light. Upon realizing that her only source of coverage were the thin sheets draped atop her is when she remembered the depth of the night before. Utahime whipped her neck around, her hair moving from one shoulder to another. Utahime’s eyes immediately landed on Gojo’s, who was awake long before her.
"Out," Utahime croaked. Her throat felt raw, which was a stinging reminder of the sounds he had pulled from her just hours prior. She pointed a trembling finger toward the door, her skin prickling as the cool morning air hit her bare shoulders. "Get out of my bed, get out of my apartment, and if you ever mention this at Jujutsu High, I will find a way to make your Infinity irrelevant."
Gojo did not flinch. Instead, he stretched, his muscles rippling with an effortless grace that made Utahime’s stomach do a traitorous flip. He sat up, the sheets slipping dangerously low, and the smugness radiating off him was more blinding than the sunlight.
“Good morning to you too, Utahime.” He tilted his head, his eyes uncovered and devastatingly bright, locking onto hers. He tracked the way her gaze dropped to his chest before she snapped it back to his face.
"You are very cranky for someone who did not want me to shut up last night.” Utahime chose not to respond. Instead, she pointed her finger at the door, her other hand holding the thin sheets against her chest, a stern look on her face.
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Utahime remained stiff and on guard. Her only cue to relieve the tenseness was the sound of her front door opening and slamming shut.