HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2
âš general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
âš content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in this part.
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.
âš wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART ONE.
âš a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.
âš synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is notâa fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
âš PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS.Â
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white.Â
Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and thereâs frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it. Â
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago.Â
Nothingâs changed, but everything is different. Itâs starting to feel comedic. Itâs so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting.Â
Gojo feels like heâs waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. Thereâs something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps itâs no surprise that heâs latched onto you this way.Â
Thereâs nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he canât break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesnât know why either. Thereâs not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasnât examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that heâs lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God.Â
The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he canât see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy.Â
When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much.Â
The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesnât think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesnât think he should have too.
Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?
Gojo doesnât want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure youâre alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?
It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens whoâve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but heâs not God.
No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers canât stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.
Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. Itâs only then youâll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. Itâs what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily.Â
Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojoâs feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if itâs a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true.Â
He doesnât want you to hate him. Heâs your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that youâre his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely.Â
He needs you. He needs you. He needs you.Â
Snow is falling.Â
__
Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door.Â
Heâs usually sleeping in on the weekends, so heâs startled by it. School doesnât start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi wouldâve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. Heâs dressed in his P.J.âs with his hair messy and mind jumbled.Â
Heâs not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. Youâve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo canât decipher.Â
âOh,â He says after registering who heâs talking to you âWhatâre you doing here so early?âÂ
You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.
âA pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they wonât be here for a while and.â You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion âI need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus thereâs work,âÂ
Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up.Â
âHey, calm down,â He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head âIâm here. Itâs okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?âÂ
You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself.Â
âWould it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?âÂ
If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.
âHm,â He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. Heâs memorized all your tells by heart âWell, thereâs no reason not to, right? Youâll have to sleep in my bed though.âÂ
He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction.Â
âOh, uhm, then,âÂ
He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back.Â
âJust kidding! Of course you can stay with me. Iâll take the couch for a few days so donât worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.âÂ
You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares.Â
âWhat?â You ask when you notice. He shakes his head.Â
âItâs cute when you get nervous,â He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands.Â
âYouâre so mean,â You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest âI was really freaking out just now,âÂ
âI know, I know - but itâs kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe itâs cause Iâm sleepy,âÂ
âYou're wide awake right now!â You point out. He snorts.Â
âNoo, what? Iâm half-asleep right now,âÂ
âGojo,â You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body âLet me in? Please?âÂ
âTry Satoru. Sa-to-ru,â He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face.Â
âSatoru,â You say, hardly getting the syllables out âL-let me in,âÂ
He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens.Â
âGood girl,â He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you âCome on in!âÂ
Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well heâs been doing to make sure heâs acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesnât think itâs time yet. Youâre still skittish.
Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up.Â
âDonât be so stiff,â He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning âMy home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?âÂ
âCould I borrow your shower?âÂ
Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things - sharp and sinful.Â
âI was gonna shower this morning but, yâknow.â You gesture vaguely. Heâs quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.
âPretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,â He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though heâs certain heâs missing something âOh, and Iâll give you some clothes,âÂ
You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse.Â
âDonât say no,â He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease. Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun âLet me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,âÂ
âThatâs a bad joke,â You say, throat thick.
 You want to trust him donât you? He wants to praise you for that.Â
âAw, câmon. Itâs lonely. Let me indulge a little,â He begs with enough lightheartedness that you donât run away.Â
âGeez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,â You try and joke back, though itâs stilted and awkward. He can tell youâre getting prepared to squeeze to the bathroom before the conversation is too much.Â
âOld ladies do love me,â He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly.Â
âStupid.â
He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.
âIs there anything else that you need while youâre in there?âÂ
âI donât think so,â You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on.Â
When the water rushes, he follows you.Â
He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than itâs supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear whatâs going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him.Â
For someone like you, itâs probably impossible.Â
Itâs knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5Â minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. Heâs pleased with that.Â
You trust him, or you try too.Â
When he feels certain youâre relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but itâs noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you.Â
He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for.Â
Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until heâs sure he overstayed his welcome.Â
He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it.Â
The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room.Â
He sits on his couch when heâs back. The sun hasnât come up yet and heâs only turned on a single lamp for light. Itâs hard for him to describe how heâs feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasnât caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding.Â
Heâs been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.
 But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now mustâve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. Heâs naive in thinking you're different. Heâs the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.
Itâs only now and in such circumstances does he think that youâre the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy heâs ever had - itâs both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesnât want you to hate him. Not necessarily.Â
But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks itâll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as itâs yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that itâs yours. That heâs yours.Â
Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojoâs never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin.Â
But like anything he does though, he canât take the easy way out. Thereâs a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, thereâs things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that heâll do his best to make that reality happen.Â
The thought settles in his body and suddenly heâs present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? Heâs not a skilled cook but heâs pretty good at making those.Â
At the very least, he thinks youâll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry.Â
He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesnât want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if itâs temporary. Heâs giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body.Â
He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he canât remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge.Â
Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. Itâs not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesnât cook for himself often in the first place, so heâs never thought to complain about it or get it changed.Â
Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. Itâs not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.
( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, itâll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - itâll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. Itâs best to keep the heat even. Itâs best to fix it sometime soon. )
The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth.Â
He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm.Â
Too much heat, and youâll jump to save yourself.Â
Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking. It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.
Youâre wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long itâll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. Thereâs a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you.Â
âMorning,â He says. You giggle a little.Â
âMorning. Are you making breakfast?âÂ
âYes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,â He puffs his chest up âPretty good, Iâm told.âÂ
You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway
âGuess Iâll be the judge of that,âÂ
âThe audacity,â He says, full of theatrics âIâll knock your socks off,âÂ
âOh, Iâm sure you will,â You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That heâll have all of you and soon âCan I help with anything?â
âGet started on some coffee maybe,âÂ
You nod your head and yawn.Â
âSounds good to me,âÂ
__Â
You decide to stay for a week.Â
More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a week. Thatâs how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.
But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and thereâs no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and itâs not like you canât board with a friend for a few days right?Â
But wonât that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesnât mind at all. Itâs like having a week-long sleep-over.Â
I donât have the stuff I need. Thatâs fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure.Â
Are you sure? Of course heâs sure. More than sure. Youâre doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. Whatâs sleeping in the same room when weâre neighbors?Â
Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. Youâre weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on.Â
(Heâd be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. Itâs a good thing itâs only Gojo who knows.)Â
The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. Thereâs no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch.Â
(He doesnât make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - itâs hard for him to stave it off. What you donât know canât hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when youâre embarrassed and spills into his hand.Â
Eventually, heâll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because youâre naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you donât stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. )Â
On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. Youâre not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently).Â
(âI have a surprise for you!â Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. Youâve returned from your shower, on your last pair of PJâs. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package.Â
âFor me?â You ask. Gojo nods, grinning.Â
âFor you,â He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room.Â
The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.
But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it.Â
â...Clothes?â You repeat.Â
âSurprise!â He says with his usual silly cadence âFor you, free of charge.âÂ
A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what youâll do. What youâre thinking, itâs a shame Gojo canât read your mind.
âHowâd you know my size?â You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs.Â
âGuessed. Weâve spent enough time together,â He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you donât quite believe him. But thereâs not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. Itâs not a sound he dislikes.Â
Heâs been good to you. Heâs just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesnât hate it even though he knows where it comes from.Â
The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically.Â
âThis is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?â You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it.Â
âMm, dunno. Just whatever I thought youâd need.âÂ
âIâm only here for a week, Gojo.â You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.
âSo? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I donât know what women go through.â He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose.Â
âYouâre so dumb. Itâs too much stuff,â
âI already bought it and I donât feel like returning it,â He tells you, making it clear heâs not going to negotiate âJust think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.â
You snort.Â
âYou even have the hair,â You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile âStill. I feel like Iâm really indebted to you, lately.âÂ
âYeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.âÂ
âI donât remember Santa doing favors for people,â You quip. Gojo laughs.Â
âChange in management,âÂ
You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again.Â
âWell. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?âÂ
âTake your time,â Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall âI need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and Iâll take it out tomorrow morning.âÂ
âOh, okay. Yeah. Iâll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.âÂ
âYeah. See youâ )Â
If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, youâre smart enough not to say anything.Â
The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but heâs content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and heâs careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows youâre asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires.Â
On the fourth day, he doesnât have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but thereâs a method to this - he has to remind himself.Â
Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you canât feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if youâre wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you canât feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why youâre wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that heâs interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult.Â
On the fifth day, things proceed the same. Thereâs a routine youâve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. Thereâs not really much to do - itâs a Friday. Itâs the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task.Â
You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as heâs ever gotten in his life. Part of him isnât sure why he does it. He thinks heâs seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him.Â
(âSo, youâre the only person left in your clan?â You ask, half-way through a glass of tea heâs sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.
âMhm. Technically, Iâm the sole heir.â He replies.
â...Is it okay to ask what happened?âÂ
Gojo laughs at you. You really canât help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.
âItâs not a pretty story,â Gojo says honestly.Â
âThatâs okay,â You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around.Â
âMost of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.âÂ
âYou included?â You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little.Â
âOnce I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,â He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story âIt took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.âÂ
âYou say that so easily,âÂ
Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself.Â
âIt was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. Iâm used to it.âÂ
For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks youâre going to cry. He doesnât know how to feel about that. Itâs proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, itâs meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. Itâs a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesnât know what heâs like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasnât known it since he was born.Â
Itâs especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because heâs going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. Heâs going to do it with purpose and conviction. He wonât feel remorseful about it at all.Â
Thereâs an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than heâs ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows heâll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this.Â
He wonders how long youâll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, thereâs no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if itâs pointless. He doesnât remember the last time someone did.Â
Maybe when he was 17.
âYou look like youâre gonna cry.â He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasnât been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle.Â
âHow are you not crying?âÂ
âI never cry.â Gojo says smoothly, not blinking âIâm a heartless bastard.âÂ
âThatâs not true.â You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. Itâs cute, he must admit, that youâre so sure on his character âYouâre not heartless,âÂ
âBut I am a bastard,â He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on thatÂ
â...Youâre not heartless. Clearly.â You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much heâll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums.Â
âOho, you almost sound like youâre defending me.âÂ
âFrom yourself, I guess. I know youâre not heartless,â You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. Itâs a little shocking. Itâs not usually how this goes âYouâreâŚweird. But you careâÂ
âThatâs true,â Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. âMore than that, Iâm hung up on the idea of the future.âÂ
âIsnât it usually being hung-up on the past?âÂ
âRight? Usually, thatâd be the case,â Gojo says, unsure of what to express âBut the past is the past. I canât go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.âÂ
You sound like the winds been knocked out of you âThatâs terrifying,âÂ
âIt is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasnât happened. But it canât be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,â Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies âThereâs a future I want to see. Iâd like if my students could see it too,âÂ
âBecause of your friend, right?âÂ
Gojo smiles.Â
âBecause of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.âÂ
âLike?â You ask, curious.Â
âI like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now itâs up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.âÂ
Youâre silent for a while, again.Â
âSeems lonely,â You say, simply. Easily. Itâs true, and he knows that. Itâs the most obvious thing in the world, and youâve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story.Â
Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He canât bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word.Â
âYou think so?â Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant âDoes it make you wanna hug and console me?â
He offers it sarcastically, but you donât tear your eyes away from him. Itâs almost enough to shake him. Almost.Â
â...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.â You say, too honestly.
âJeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I canât believe Iâm the other woman,â He says, with a faux pout.Â
You laugh, though itâs laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and heâs almost willing to let you. Thatâs just the thing.
 You see Gojo as human, still.Â
Gojo Satoru isnât God. But he isnât human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldnât mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until itâs too late.Â
So, Gojo doesnât think you need to comfort him how youâre thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that youâre owed to him.Â
 Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesnât want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont.Â
He turns the heat up gently. Youâre none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. Heâll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you shouldâve trusted your gut after all.Â
For now, he smiles at you.Â
âIf itâs any consolation, Iâd be very sad if you disappeared.â Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself.Â
âMe too,â You reply. Gojo knows heâs going to ruin you. âIâd be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, donât, okay?âÂ
And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - heâd tell you youâre the last person who should worry about missing him. That youâll be seeing him for a long time.Â
But heâs neither, just like heâs not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his.Â
âScouts honor,â
When heâs ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojoâs clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you.Â
âWhat was that?âÂ
âYou had a thread loose,â You say simply, unconcerned with anything âI just pulled it off.âÂ
Gojo stares.Â
âYeah. Thanks.â)Â
The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesnât think thereâs anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone.Â
Today is the 7th day.Â
On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You donât have work today, so you do what youâve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V. Â
Night falls on the 7th day.
Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. Heâd set this in motion when the week started and now that itâs here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. Thereâs no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojoâs presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak.Â
Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than heâs had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him.Â
He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. Youâre not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment heâs met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life.Â
And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. Heâll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. Thereâs a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy.Â
The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall.Â
Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.
Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed, so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. Itâd be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo.Â
You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojoâs expression.Â
The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like heâs starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him.Â
Gojoâs presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. Youâre still wearing the clothes he bought.Â
He knows he shouldnât think it, but some part of him is vindicated. Youâre leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, heâs vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him.Â
Then he talks, his voice tender.Â
âGetting my debts repaid,â And he means it, more than heâs ever meant anything heâs said âYou owe me one, remember?âÂ
It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. Youâll leave it here when youâre gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him.Â
âW-what are youâŚ? What do you mean?âÂ
Heâs shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if youâll do it. If youâll run or if youâll thrash or if youâll fight. Heâs not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and heâs curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this.Â
He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like youâre being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, itâs your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like youâre trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like youâll be able to break free.Â
But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that youâre trying to escape him, heâs quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you.Â
You look so frightened.
âWh-what are you..?âÂ
âYou owe me one for letting you stay here, right?â He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen âIâll take this as compensation, okay? Itâs a good deal for us both I think,âÂ
âI donât,â You squirm underneath him âI donâtâI,âÂ
âShh,â He quiets you, humming softly âDonât overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,â
Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. Whatâd you do in these circumstances. If youâd act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming.Â
Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesnât need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you.Â
âYou can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,â Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you âItâs not gonna hurt me,âÂ
You look like youâre at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin.Â
âMaybe weâre going about this all wrong,â Gojo says after some thought âIs this your first time?âÂ
You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo groans against your skin. You flinch.Â
âFuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,â He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown.Â
âDidnât say it was a bad thing you know,â Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of whatâll happen if you let g.o âWeâre tied together like this. Isnât that nice?âÂ
âGojo,â You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you canât find the strength to say. Youâre not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine âPlease,âÂ
âNot wearing a thing even though youâve been sleeping at a man's house all week,â He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs âIâm not telling you off you know? Iâm glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.âÂ
âGojo,â You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock. Â
âSatoru,â He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him âIâll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,âÂ
He doesnât promise to stop, because he doesnât think heâd be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks itâs worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath.Â
âS-Satoru,âÂ
He gestures to take your shirt off. Youâve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head.Â
âThat wonât do,â He coos at you softly âI wanna see you. All of you,âÂ
You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are.Â
âSo pretty,â He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater âSo cute,âÂ
âSatoru, please, I donâtâdonât wantââÂ
âSo ungrateful,â He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal âThatâs the only request I canât listen to,âÂ
You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesnât hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists.Â
âDonât squirm too much, âkay? Stay like that. Iâll make you feel good.âÂ
âI donât,âÂ
âHey,â This time heâs stern, and you slink back into yourself. Itâs the first time heâs had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last âWhatâd I say? You owe me this much, donât you think? After everything Iâve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. Itâs not like I wanna do anything bad with you, yâknowâÂ
A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles.Â
âGood girl.â He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse âYou learn quick.âÂ
You keep your arms over your head like heâs asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so youâre forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him.Â
âSo pretty,â He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth.Â
He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it.Â
He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you.Â
âFirst kiss?â He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you âDidnât say it was a bad thing.â
You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space.Â
âMm,â Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesnât bother putting up a show. Itâs easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient.Â
He takes his time now that youâre all naked. Itâs thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. Itâs only fair to give you something to look at while youâre departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly.Â
âGonna be a little sore for a while,â He says warmly. Youâve hit the stage of grief where youâre angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back âMight as well enjoy yourself.âÂ
Despair flashes in your expression.Â
âI mean it, you know.â He offers, stating it like heâs trying to appease you âYou should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.âÂ
It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. Itâs good youâre starting to understand him a little better.Â
âWhy are you doing this to me?â You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question.Â
âAh, itâs a secret, so you canât tell,â He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful âI like things that I can keep.âÂ
A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound
It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air.Â
When he thinks youâre worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy.Â
You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs.Â
âYou donât wanna?â He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit âAre you sure?âÂ
Itâs torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. Itâs your first time with something like this and heâs sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you donât want it, your body canât refuse him. You canât either, try as you might. Thatâs why your legs are spread and why youâre practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently.Â
You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs.Â
âYou need it here,â He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp âNeed me to touch you here, hm?âÂ
You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently.Â
âBe more honest.â He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it âWhat do you want?âÂ
âDonât, I donât.â You say, or you try.Â
âLiar,â He snips playfully against your clavicle âYour pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?âÂ
Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry.Â
âCâmon,â He encourages meanly âTell me what you really want.â
Itâs a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you.Â
âP-please,â You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When youâre thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him âPlease.âÂ
So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be.Â
âPlease what, hm? What are you asking for?âÂ
You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojoâs. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. Itâs titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.
Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless little heart to beg for his mercy this once. Youâll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this.Â
Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist.Â
You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin.Â
âSo cute when you give up.â Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your âBe good and be honest. Iâll reward you, hm? Howâs that?âÂ
Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself. A sound like youâre in pain even though youâre not hurt.Â
âPlease touch me.â You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince.Â
âGood girl.â He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit âThatâs all you had to do. Easy, right?âÂ
You scowl at him (you try too).
âOpen your legs, baby,âÂ
You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like youâll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until youâre disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like youâre begging. Gojo doesnât stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank.Â
Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like youâre spitting them out because they fill your mouth too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojoâs hard to hold.Â
He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. Youâre wet enough he doesnât need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you.Â
Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. Heâs being kind, and youâll realize it later - when youâve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didnât think itâd ruin the set-up, heâd have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip.Â
Itâs all he can picture, but he shows restraint. Heâll fuck himself off on you when youâre sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then.Â
He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle.Â
When he thinks youâre adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his nameÂ
âOh, Satoru, its.âÂ
He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until heâs all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till itâs easy, till youâre wanting more.Â
If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - heâd stop here. He doesnât though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again.Â
âEasy, easy,â He coos, voice coarse but encouraging âItâs a good exercise for the future.âÂ
You donât register the words and Gojo doesnât expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice.Â
Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like heâs motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it.Â
He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows heâs getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell youâre feeling it, just as much as youâre resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin.Â
âCâmon,â He hums, nudging his nose to your neck âYou wanna cum donât you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.âÂ
You whimper âAah, aah,â Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. Heâs doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until youâre no longer able to put on a show of being composed.Â
âS-satoâoh, please, ohâplease m-make me,âÂ
âWant me to making you cum? Say it. Say, âSatoru, please make me cum,â can you do that?âÂ
A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo canât think straight. It strains you.Â
âS-satoru, pleasemakemecumâplease.âÂ
Gojo grins. âOf course I can,â He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again âAll you had to do was ask me.âÂ
He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he canât decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything.Â
He feels giddy to the point heâs sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark.Â
âDonât hate me too much, kay,â Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now âCome on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.âÂ
And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like youâve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and youâre squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJâs with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasureâs vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper.Â
Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you donât pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere.Â
He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until youâre deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isnât wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. .Â
When he stands to his feet, itâs to collect the curse thatâs gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse youâve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed.Â
It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojoâs arm. It doesnât take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake.Â
âBetter warm up to me,â He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words âYou wonât be seeing your mama for a while,âÂ
â
Communication stills.Â
Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened.Â
He mostly does this because he wants to see what youâll do.
You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but donât taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch.Â
Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amusedâthat you remind him a lot of himself.
He thinks youâre a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - heâll tell you all about it. You get it now right? Itâs painful to feel like you can never be the same.Â
They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes heâs made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though youâre both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.
What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, youâll return to your usual spitfire. Heâs counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back.Â
But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isnât looking for your obedience, really. Youâre too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks itâd be pointless if youâd just stayed the same.
You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesnât plan to rob you of it. He figures itâs best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But itâs better if youâre able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take.Â
Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe youâll be clever enough to recognize that itâs not that youâre succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. Youâre definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that thereâs hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc.Â
Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it.Â
Itâd be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you canât sense him or that heâs gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go.Â
Feeding the curse youâve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. Itâs obedient to him since heâs strong, and itâs big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because itâs from you), more hostile. Heâs been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown.Â
Itâs currently on Gojoâs floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. Itâs just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.
Heâs been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasnât such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But thatâs fine. The means donât matter as much as the ends and in doing so - heâs made this all sort of seamless.Â
Itâs not a complicated plan, ultimately. Heâll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - youâll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when youâre finally caught in his arms, youâll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. Heâll reprimand you (but only lightly) and youâll thrash (but only for a little while) and then heâll keep you by his side again.Â
Except this time he wonât be so quick to let go. Heâs sure youâll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). Heâll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, heâs thought of a way to reply.Â
A way to tend to it.Â
Like any relationship, things take time. Heâs not expecting this to settle right away - but heâs confident eventually itâll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as youâre within view.Â
He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. Youâre dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned.Â
A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit.Â
The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet.Â
âCalm down or Iâll exercise you right away,â Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. âIâm getting impatient, too, you know? Itâs been a long time.â He says wistfully.Â
He keeps looking until youâve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before youâve gone in - sound by a dull thump.Â
He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process.Â
But he doesnât know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. Heâd much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that heâd been thinking about again for weeks.Â
He supposes thereâs no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground heâs been spending too long looking for.Â
He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes.Â
âToday seems like itâs too soon yet too far,â Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully âBut it should be okay, right?âÂ
__Â
At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table.Â
The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out.Â
Thereâs a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. Itâs unfortunate he canât monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojoâs word.Â
So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if youâll scream. You didnât when he thought you shouldâve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now.Â
The clock ticks away. Itâs unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and heâll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways.Â
The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible.Â
Tick. Tick. Tick.Â
Tick. Tick. Tick.Â
Tick. Tick. Tick.Â
At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and itâs not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didnât have such a pressing matter to attend to, heâd go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful.Â
Gojo canât abandon his task. Itâs too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesnât even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing)Â
At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. Itâs still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he canât name. Itâs just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately itâs still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when itâs warm even if itâs just an illusion.Â
The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado thatâs riveting. Thereâs a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious.Â
At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures heâs not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. Thereâs timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. Heâs sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow.Â
The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before.Â
At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. Heâs pleased with it so far. Itâs proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard.Â
He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment.Â
When Gojo has had enough of waiting, itâs 7:15 sharp.Â
He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy.Â
Youâre right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like itâs dead.Â
He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and thereâs some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass.Â
If you were any more familiar with this world, youâd know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojoâs presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then youâd know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojoâs name when you hate it so much now would be pointless.Â
But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark.Â
So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but itâs locked, so he teleports.Â
When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures youâre cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you.Â
Your house is effectively thrashed like thereâs been a robbery. Heâll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they wonât question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded.Â
(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even heâs not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. Heâs sure youâll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.)Â
He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines heâs practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent.Â
Heâs sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life.Â
He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction.Â
At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like heâs only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. Heâs never been in your room. Kind of a waste itâs happening like this.Â
The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out.Â
It wasnât enough to break you a little. This part is necessary.Â
Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.
âAre you okay?â
âOh, Satoru.â Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach âOh, itâsâOh itâs you.âÂ
âHappy to see me, huh?â He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying.Â
âH-howâd youâŚ?âÂ
âI can feel cursed energy,â He says, and itâs not untrue âI felt something very strange in your apartment. Itâs been a while.âÂ
You still canât find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent.Â
âYeah.â You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.
âHey, you didnât answer. Are you okay?âÂ
You stare at Gojo for a long time.Â
âIâm not hurt but,â You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. Heâll let you rest for a while when youâre home âIâm s-scared.âÂ
âYouâre right to be scared,â Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general âItâs a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.âÂ
You look agape as he relays this to you.Â
âShareâŚ?âÂ
Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesnât falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside.Â
âIt was made with your cursed energy,â Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief âCurses are negative emotions. So something like this isnât uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But thatâs all your.âÂ
He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like youâre ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesnât condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee.Â
âI told you didnât I,â Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought âYou have to be careful. And you canât fight all by yourself, so youâre kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasnât around?âÂ
You look like youâre going to cry. Gojo keeps going.Â
âYou canât call the police, you know. They canât help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.â Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him âBut you can rely on me if you need to. Iâll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?âÂ
It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. Itâs exactly what he wanted. An understanding heâd be hoping for for so long itâs unbelievable.Â
âIâm the only one who can keep you safe, understand?â But heâs not really asking. You know that too âCan you nod your head and agree?â He pricks. You donât hold back your tears but you donât cry them either. You break down silently nd you nod.Â
Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you.Â
âDonât be so sad,â He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isnât it? âIâll protect you now.âÂ
Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings.Â
Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges.Â
Itâs really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he mightâve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but heâs mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesnât disturb the neighbors.
 Itâs as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in itâs every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.
It doesnât go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together.Â
But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like youâre trying to measure how strong he is. Itâs a smart thing to do. Youâre learning. Itâs probably better to show you now, since thereâs not much left to hide.Â
So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared.Â
Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.
He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space heâs created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. Itâs gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it canât have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off.Â
Itâs gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment.Â
Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you.Â
âDonât know how long itâll be gone but,â He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine âBut itâs gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.âÂ
This is all a formality. Heâs sure you know too, but instead of turning away - youâre shivering figure wavers in the dark. Youâre terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know whatâs coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isnât anything you can do.Â
And itâs just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you.Â
âCome on,â He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you donât do so much as protest âLetâs go home.âÂ
__
Gojo brings you home quietly.Â
When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long youâve been crying and about what in particular - but thatâs okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly.Â
Itâs a good night, he thinks. Even in the state youâre in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. Youâre an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you mightâve really fallen apart.Â
Itâs reasonable enough. For someone like you, heâs sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better.Â
He canât describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this.Â
All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojoâs forever, permanently through everything. Heâs made you so completely in his image, something heâs always wanted to do. Maybe youâre a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What heâs capable of creating with enough effort.Â
Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom.Â
Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojoâs bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. Youâre weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly.Â
Regardless of everything thatâs transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you donât pull away. Now youâre so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time itâs perfect. Itâs everything heâs always imagined.Â
Heâll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, youâll come to realize youâll always need him a little. And it doesnât matter, does it? That heâs made it that way on his own. Because itâs true. Itâs righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens.Â
He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin.Â
âStill feel like crying?â He asks you. You blink up at him like youâre only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly.Â
âThatâs good,â He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesnât dislike it âYou didnât get hurt did you? And now weâre together again.âÂ
This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you donât look like you have the energy to cry. He doesnât push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you.Â
âScary world out there, yâknow?â Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely âHold onto me okay? Iâll make it all better.âÂ
You whimper under your voice but donât go to thrash. Thereâs something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as itâs you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he canât help himself but kiss you. Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.
He kisses you for longer than necessary. Itâs intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you donât do anything to refuse it.Â
So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting.Â
He rests his hands on your waist and you donât pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. Itâs making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He canât get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He canât help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit.Â
Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him.Â
From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends.Â
This is a lesson in divine truth.Â
Youâve made Gojo this way as much as heâs made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. Itâs cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens.Â
Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed.Â
This is a lesson in divine truth.Â
More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. Heâs made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning.Â
You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him and your disposition will never allow you. Youâll hate and resent him. Youâll grieve and youâll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?
Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you.Â
âMy birthday passed recently,â He tells you. You blink at him.Â
âOh?âÂ
âCan you guess what I want?âÂ
You donât do much more than nod. Itâs not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with.Â
âYou donât have to do any work,â He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. Youâre still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago âJust donât run away from me.âÂ
If you notice how heavy the words are, youâre smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo canât tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to.Â
He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. Youâre wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now theyâre yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you.Â
He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now.Â
And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring.Â
He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo canât contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. Heâs missed touching you more than he knows what to do with.Â
Even in being gentle, thereâs little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He canât pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. Itâs making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy.Â
How different it is but the same. Something about how youâre clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust.Â
Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till youâre on top of him
The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once youâre all set, face to face like this.
âDonât run away from me,â He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until youâre half-way over him. Youâre so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. Thereâs a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow.Â
He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.
âLook at you all bent over for me,â He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. âSo pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.âÂ
A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole.Â
Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. Youâre soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.
He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin.Â
âFuck,â He laughs, giggling at the thought of it âIâm gonna break you, huh? Gotta beâshit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?âÂ
âPlease be gentle.â You say at his request.
âOf course, of course butââ He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily âYou justâyouâd look so good so full of my cock, yâknow? Been thinkinâ about it for weeks.âÂ
And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips.Â
âYou like that?â He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him âYou like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?âÂ
Shame fills you, like Gojoâs lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later heâll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you.Â
âWeeks and weeks, baby. Couldnât stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you wonât have to think about anything else again.âÂ
The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his.Â
His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth.Â
âCâmon. You can look.âÂ
He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard itâs almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo canât stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you.Â
âTouch it, sweetheartâ He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you âFeel it? Thatâs all you.âÂ
A flush graces your features. For a minute, itâs all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms.Â
âFuck thatâs it,â
He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him.Â
With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him.Â
Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he canât help but think about how easily he can overpower you. Heâs stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How heâs gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. Youâll open and endure and take him so deep.Â
He canât help appreciating it. Canât keep his thoughts quiet from telling you.Â
âSee that? How deep Iâm gonna go?â He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb âGonna feel me right in here. You ready?âÂ
You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you.Â
âNuh-uh. Want you to see. Donât close your eyes.â Â
Itâs not a question or a request.Â
So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. Itâs agonizing how slow. Itâs incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like heâs going to pass out just sitting there.Â
And then thereâs looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down.Â
âHurt too much?âÂ
âN-no. Just⌠feels weird.âÂ
He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like theyâre sucking him and Gojo wouldnât leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter.Â
With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.
âStill okay?âÂ
You nod weakly.Â
âCan I move?âÂ
Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.
So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly.Â
âO-oh. Oh, oh itâs,âÂ
He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so thereâs no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess.Â
âStarting to feel good?âÂ
âS-satoru.âÂ
He swears.Â
âFuck, stop that,â He swears âGonnaâshit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.âÂ
You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.
Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things.Â
âTouch yourself for me, okay?âÂ
You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. Heâs so hard he canât think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him.Â
He can tell youâre starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. Itâs a force thatâs nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness heâs created and chased after so long.
Now this part of you is all his too.Â
âSaâSatoru,â You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts âG-gonnaâŚâÂ
âGonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.âÂ
Itâs all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like heâs trying to embed them into himself.
You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. Itâs almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go.Â
Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. Heâs still hard as heâs twitching. He canât hold off tonight, he doesnât think. But heâll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline.Â
He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still.Â
âIâm yours and youâre mine baby. Forever and always.âÂ
You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that itâs the resentment coming back in waves. But thatâs okay, because Gojo loves you.Â
And with this, heâs taken everything.
EPILOGUE / OVERTURE :Â
Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now.Â
You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldnât really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same.Â
In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.
But it doesnât particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didnât think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you.Â
The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. Youâd learn from it. Youâd do it again and that time you would succeed.Â
Thatâs what you told yourself anyway. Itâs how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. Heâd come and heâd discipline but it was never too cruel.Â
(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think itâs so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think youâd prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.)Â
This has been the farthest youâve ever gotten. You donât think youâve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You donât know how Gojo found you.Â
You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it.Â
Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised and bleeding from where youâve fallen. Youâre cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you canât find any heartbeat to motivate you.
Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways.Â
Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin.Â
âMy birthdays soon, you know?â He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you âItâs not a bad place, yâknow? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.âÂ
He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and donât even cry. A numbness settles.Â
It is not the cold.Â
âOh, look,â Gojo says, reaching his hands out âSnowâs falling.âÂ
You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this.Â
A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.
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