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sweet-evie · 4 days

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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#oh my heart #this was so adorable

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sweet-evie · 6 days

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His apartment is bigger than my house 😫😭 oh to be rich and have your money, Satoru.

I look forward to your Sims 4 posts a lot ☺️ Love rereading chapters and one-shots where scenes from Under the Cover of Shadows took place.

Where are you building these lots, by the way? Newcrest? Or is that Willow Creek?

Satoru's apartment (Part 1)

Continuing with my whole thing of trying to make the characters' apartments from my fic in The Sims, let's finally get into Satoru's apartment! ....Or part of it, because his apartment is fairly big lol. Here's the layout:

*The office and washroom are blurred because I haven't actually gotten around to them yet lol

Satoru's place is pretty big, but not the biggest he could have afforded because he is just one guy... so a fairly "modest" apartment will do.

("modest" my ass lmao)

His apartment is pretty neat, which tends to surprise people that expect someone like him to make a mess of things, lol. But Satoru had a pretty strict childhood so some things just stuck with him, and along with the way his family never allowed him to decorate his room in the Gojo Estate with trinkets and stuff, most of his apartment ended up the same--almost void of personality. The things he actually cherishes are kept away from prying eyes, even if this is his own apartment.

Honestly, I had a few very vivid images of what I thought his apartment looked like in my head (or parts of it), and it was kinda tough trying to put them all together into a definite layout lmao. If I made some weird architectural choices, well.... good thing I'm not an actual architect! I just really wanted to make it look like how I pictured it in my head.

In this post we'll take a look at the living room/fireplace/dining area and the kitchen after the cut!

The entrance is pretty spacious, and right behind the camera here there's a door leading to a whole ass closet for shoes and coats and stuff.

This here is the living room, where Satoru spends a lot of his free time watching movies (especially when he has people over. And by people I mean Yura and Shoko, mostly). He has a bunch of DVDs and Blu rays there on the shelf behind the TV, and he also has a couple of video game consoles that he doesn't use a lot.

Yes, this is where the Movie Night oneshot took place (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)... among other scenes.

(That corridor in the second pic with the white door leads to the guest bedroom, the office, and the washroom. That white door is the guest room, specifically.)

This is the fireplace area! Satoru doesn't actually use the fireplace a lot since he has central heating in the entire apartment, but in the opening chapter of Deeper in the Dark, this is where Satoru made a little pillow nest on the floor for him and Yura to snuggle... and yes, other things.

It's got a pretty good view! (...just pretend it's Tokyo back there)

(That corridor in the first pic leads to his bedroom.)

Here is the dining room that Satoru only uses when he has people over, otherwise it's just easier to eat in the kitchen or outside in the balcony (more on the balcony in another post... cause I still need to make it prettier lmao)

Also I might make some changes to this dining area at some point because I'm not 100% sure on the decor yet....

And here's the kitchen! This is the one place that has the most trinkets on display, a lot of novelty items that were mostly gifted to him by Yura over the years (and that he actually makes a point to use). Funny mugs, cookie jars, silly sugar bowls--since Satoru is filthy rich, it's very hard to give him gifts, so Yura eventually found out that he actually likes being given 'stupid stuff', in her words.

I had a very vivid image of the kitchen entrance in my head from that chapter where Yura was sleeping in the guest bedroom after coming back from NYC, and she sleepily stumbles into a shirtless Satoru with his back to her by the counter... cue her brain short circuiting for a moment lmao.

Anyway, next up should be the bedrooms! It's been a struggle making this apartment because I had to download so much CC and mods to be able to make things look the way I wanted to, and I'm still constantly changing things lol. If I do decide to change something, we'll just call it Satoru renovating his apartment at some point throughout the years lmao

#satoyura #wbad blog

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sweet-evie · 6 days

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THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 110)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 110 next>>

A/N: Contains prose.

Joy. That’s what Gojo Satoru elicited in you. If there was a better word for it, a more appropriate permutation of words that described how he made you feel exactly, then it would probably be that. But that aside, your heart was filled with nothing but that very feeling even as you padded barefoot into your kitchen which was in shambles. Your mixing bowl lay in smithereens on the floor along with custard. Your stovetop would probably take ages to clean with all the splatters of cooked custard and butter. The counter was a mess with all the condiments he used, several unused utensils – just how many turners did he need? – and powdered sugar everywhere.

“Sweet cheeks!” he called out, looking up at you and stopping you from going in further, a broom on his hand. “Don’t come in here. T-there’s broken…” He looked silly with an apron on, his hair in disarray, held back by one of the fluffy headbands you usually used when you did your skincare. And weirdest of all, he was wearing one of your oversized shirts. Well, on you, that is. It looked like it was about to tear at the seams on him. You had to bite back laughter, seeing the dejected expression on his face. “What?”

You leaned against the fridge, crossing your arms, relishing in the absurdity of the situation. A person like Gojo Satoru was larger than life, meant to do great things, fly, not cook you breakfast – or attempt to – or clean your kitchen. Still, you enjoyed the scene and its domesticity, reminding you of that time in Hokkaido his mom caught the two of you playing with pancake batter. Now you doubted if he even made that, not that it mattered.

“Need help, handsome?”

He slowly shook his head, evidently sulking that you find amusement in his predicament. He wasn’t even holding the damn broom right. “No, I’ll clean up here. You stay in the living room.”

“You sure? You look like you’re in a pinch right now.”

At your taunting, he started whining, throwing the broom on the floor and walking over the mess on the floor to get to you, his lower lip jutting out even as he placed both his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. “You’re being annoying today, baby. I’ll call one of our staff to clean up. The mess can wait.”

Standing on your toes, you wrapped your arms around him, using that as leverage as you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Surprised at your sudden maneuver, he staggered backwards, supporting you on your thighs. You giggled at that, and though he said, “Extra annoying,” he still smiled giddily at you as he walked around your kitchen island. “You seem happy.”

“I am.”

Satoru sat you down on the island, the clean part anyway, and stood between your legs whilst he reached for the plate of French toasts he made, sliding it over the granite top. You looked down at it, grinning at the very nicely plated food before you, complete with sliced berries and perfectly smothered in snowy sugar.

“I can ignore the mess for the effort. Thank you.” You reached for the fork, but he stopped you, shaking his head. “No. You’re not doing anything today. My sweet cheeks will relax while I feed her, okay?”

“Can’t say I hate it.”

He took some of the toast, making sure it had all the elements in one bite as he held it before your mouth, this expectant look shining in his eyes when you finally opened up and tasted what he made. You chewed thoughtfully, nodding in approval. “Damn good French toasts, baby. A-plus.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. More.” You opened your mouth like a child much to his delight, more than glad to oblige. All the while, you just busied yourself with playing with the ears on the headband he was wearing, fully content in the little bubble you’ve both created in that corner of the kitchen where the morning sun shone just right on him.

“I got you orange juice, too. Wait, I’ll get it –” He moved back to get to the fridge, but you hooked your leg around him, stopping his progress and drawing him closer. Without preamble, you cupped his face, pressing your lips to his, intense from the get-go as you showed in actions just what you couldn’t tell him in words. You didn’t want him anywhere he is out of your reach, holding him in place by the nape while your other hand wandered down to the hem of his – your – shirt, tugging at it.

“Someone’s enjoying her breakfast too much,” he said as he heeded your unspoken command, pulling the garment off him. You swallowed hard, eyes wild as you took in every line and sinew of his musculature. “Well, this is infinitely better than breakfast.” You smirked when you saw his cheeks turn pink when he came closer, kissing you just as fervently as you did earlier.

You pawed at the ridiculous headband he was wearing, throwing it blindly somewhere in the kitchen. He slid the plate beside you further to the side as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them higher up his waist while you used your foot to push his sweatpants down, whining in frustration against his lips when you couldn’t quite get it off.

“Easy,” he spoke softly, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing steady and warm against your cheek. He made quick work of pushing his sweats down, taking his cock out, pretty as always as he gave it a few pumps. “You want this, hmm?”

“Want you, Toru,” you moaned, catching his lower lip between your teeth, spurring him on. He reached between your thighs, running his thumb over the wet patch there, rubbing your clit over the fabric. “Didn’t know you wanted to make babies for breakfast.”

“Please, baby,” you whined, “Want you.”

“Someone’s needy,” he teased, but gave you what you wanted, pushing your panties to the side. “So wet for me.” He held his dick, running its pink tip through your folds and sliding in just a bit at a time before he’s pulling back, easing in agonizingly slow that your patience was fraying. He did just that for a few more moments until he finally pushed in all the way, stealing the breath from your lungs when he repeated the action, pulling all the way to the tip before slowly going back into your heat. “Fuck, baby.”

He set a rhythm that had you seeing stars, his name falling in high-pitched whines from your mouth, lost in the undeniable pleasure of it all. At some point, he adjusted his angle, hitting you in all the right places that had acid white flashes dominating your vision, feeling like you were going to float into space if it weren’t for the bruising hold he had on your hips.

“Harder,” you managed to choke out in the midst of you pretty much losing your mind with the way he was continuously hitting your sweet spot. “D-don’t stop – ah! Fuck – more – mmhhh…”

“Y/N, baby, you feel so good – so fucking good.”

“I’m c-close…”

“I know, baby, I know.” He leaned down, gently peppering kisses on your cheeks down to your jawline and wherever else he could reach, his hips and breaths turning erratic as he thrust in shallower, faster strokes, his moans and grunts mixing with yours as he brought you to your high, long and dragged out as he found his own, following after you with a drawn out groan, your fluttering hole milking him for all he’s worth.

The kitchen was filled with ragged breaths as you both came down from whatever heaven he catapulted you both to. Soft laughter soon mingled with it as the full realization of what you did finally hit you. Satoru pushed himself up, hovering over you while he regarded you with those mischief-filled eyes.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I’m so damn in love with you, L/N Y/N. You don’t even know what you do to me.”

You reached up as you pushed yourself to a sitting position, shivering slightly when he pulled out of you, your essences dripping on the tiles below you, but you couldn’t care less, kissing him stupid. “I love you, too.”

Satoru looked at you lovingly, seemingly drunk as he stood there, his forehead on yours as he cupped the side of your face. “Say you’ll stay with me for always. Say you’re not going anywhere I can’t see you.” He briefly pressed his lips onto yours. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Satoru. Yours alone.” You felt tears falling from your eyes as you pulled him closer, basking in the afterglow of your union. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A/N: Almost done. I'm having separation anxiety huhuhu

TAGS LIST: @arxliana @neeneee @charlie-xo @aelynaneedsalottathing @arizzu @cloudxp @justpuddinglol @mikkies @nyfwyeonjun @whats-humanity-lol @letthewindlead @whore-of-many-hot-men @localgaytrainwreck @pikibee @bloombb @mr-underhills-things @lysaray @chocoyanchan @poemzcheng @bookswillfindyouaway @dreamxiing @koutaroo @taelattecookie @kazuhasmaid @weebbuscuit @moonmalice @taengkatsu @reagan707 @to0ruu @shirabane @yell0wdreams @r0ckst4rjk @megtheebimbo @tmvll9 @kibananya @ti-mame @niko-ash @minzxec @sixxze

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#i live and breathe for their love

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sweet-evie · 6 days

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Christmas if Gojo, Shoko and Geto had been able to raise Megumi, Tsumiki, Nanako and Mimiko together (Featuring Nanami)

#this is canon #jjk 0? what's that?

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sweet-evie · 6 days

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Glad to see them working it out 😭😭😫 They're so so so cute~

THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 109)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 109 next>>

A/N: Contains prose. | cw: family angst and i didn't proofread yet so...

Deep breaths. You took them one at a time, hand hesitating on the doorbell. With each one, you composed yourself, calming the erratic beating of your heart and the way your hands trembled. Satoru was watching you, and after assuring him that you will be alright, you didn't want him to doubt that. Quelling your hesitation, you finally pressed the doorbell, turning slightly to wave haphazardly at your boyfriend who stood by the open door of the driver's side of his car. He waved back with an encouraging smile, and just then, the door opened.

"Miss L/N," your father's secretary greeted you with a bow, then his eyes strayed to Satoru. "Mr. Gojo can stay in the drawing room while you speak to your father."

You nodded, wondering if your dad finally decided on a change of tune or if it was yet another trick up his sleeves. Eyeing the man in earnest – both a plea and a threat – you said, "You may go ahead and ask him if he wishes to come in. If not, don't press it."

The response you got was a succinct nod and the secretary was opening the door wider for you, only leaving to go towards Satoru when you were already inside the house. Without waiting for the outcome of the ensuing conversation, you found your way to your father's study where he will most likely be.

How did it ever get to this? You couldn't help but think about all of the events that culminated to that single moment when you found yourself standing on the opposite side of the line from your father. The two of you had become as good as strangers, foes even, and you thought back on what you could have done to deserve the way he treated you for the better of your younger years to the present.

Then, at the back of your mind, you heard Sukuna's words to you, telling you that you were never at fault. Did you capitalize too much on that? Have you been a disappointment all along? At the end of the day, he was still your father, and maybe he had the right to decide on your life, you acknowledged that, but to what extent was it reasonable, fault or not?

The heavy oak doors stood before you. Several memories came to mind as you stood there, from how you would sneak in as a child, curious about all the things you saw inside the place that served as his refuge, particularly a glass paperweight that you marveled about. You later learned your mother gave it to him. After your mother died, you remembered his quiet sobs as you stood outside the door, and from there, the distance grew.

"Come in," you heard him from the other side of the door, and you did as you were told, slowly but deliberately opening and closing the door behind you. You remained standing there, the distance, ever growing between you, becoming even more palpable with each second that passed. After what happened, you didn't think you should be acting all familiar by taking a seat and invading his personal space. Despite it all, you still held respect for him, if not as a parent, then as a person.

He sighed, looking up from the papers he was signing. He motioned towards one of the couches, silently telling you to sit. He looked tired, older, but the sharpness of those eyes didn't dull in the least, observant as always. You admired the intelligence that shone in his eyes, what you detested was the cool detachment that came with it as if it would kill him to show warmth even just a little.

Acceding, you made your way to the seat he indicated, placing the file you were holding on the center table. It might have been a trivial gesture, but in your heart, it was a way to show you still considered an alternative to permanently cutting ties with him.

"I heard Gojo Satoru came with you," he began, somehow managing to look both smug and irritated at the thought. He chuckled. "I have to hand it to him. He knows how to play his cards well. Perhaps the board of directors at Gojo Group should watch their backs. Even I wasn't expecting that."

You merely nodded.

"He loves you, I can see that."

You smiled ever so slightly at that. "I don't doubt it. He doesn't exactly like working, much less taking over a company."

He put his pen down, standing up to his full height. Your father is an impressive man, commanding and confident. You've seen him in court, too, and he is a formidable force in his industry. You aspired to be like him no matter how many times you denied ever wanting to have anything to do with him and turning out to be like him.

He stood there, silently observing you while you just looked down at the table, unable to meet his gaze, but unable to endure it, you said, "I kept my end of our deal."

"I know that. Your friends –"

"– aren't the useless bunch you thought I run with –"

"And they'll protect you with everything they've got even if it means going against me," he supplied. "I know that now, Y/N."

"Merely knowing doesn't change a thing." You finally met his eyes, the animosity seeming to dissipate as you strengthened your resolve to decide without his influence, and just consider how you felt for once.

"But it does." He walked towards the shelf, fetching the decanter of his favorite whiskey, silently offering some to you but you declined, shaking your head. "What do you mean?"

"I see a great deal of myself in Gojo Satoru." At that, he smirked as if he was reliving a bittersweet memory. "I know that look of determination, that profound urge to protect you just to keep you by his side by all means regardless of who he has to go against.

I recognized that look on his face when he looked at you with so much longing when we met him at your university; the triumph and affection when he pulled you to his side along with the war he waged against me for making you unhappy..."

"That one thinks he'll win in anything."

"So did I, and that's all I've ever done." He shrugged. "I do not discount the fact that he has the means to do whatever he wanted, but what's so profound about it is his drive and single-mindedness to have you

I don't know if your aunt told you, but your grandfather hated me enough to want to kill me." He scoffed but it was without its usual edge. "Gangsters."

That was a surprise. "Grandpa seems to like you," you countered, sure that memory serves you right. You didn't hate your dad because old man Itadori asked you to understand him more. You didn't say that out loud.

Your dad shook his head. "Not always. He always threatened me every chance he got. Behind your mom's back, of course. He acted all nicely when he knows she's around.

I had to fight tooth and nail to gain his approval, perhaps even his affection. He didn't like me even when your mother already decided to marry me, even when she was pregnant with you."

"What changed?"

He smiled at you then, and you could see just why your mom fell for him. "You were born." He sat down across you, legs crossing as he took a sip from his drink. "And you're her spitting image, Itadori Wasuke's favorite daughter. You should have seen the look on his face when he first saw you. He looked at me as if I gave him the greatest gift in the world."

The thought of it hurt you even more, causing you to stand enraged. What was the point of telling you? Everyone else in your family showed you just how important you are to them, it didn't have to come from him. He didn't have any right. "But you hate me," you lashed out, tears falling from your eyes.

"No, honey, I don't –"

"Yes, you do! I know mom died because she got sick after giving birth to me. And you blamed me for it enough to send me away! You don't even want to see me. You think I didn't hear your conversations with Aunt? The way you treat my cousins as if they're dirt under your shoes? And then what? You suddenly decided you wanna be my dad? Make that make sense!"

You were shaking from all the yelling you did, but oddly enough, it felt cathartic, your pain ebbing away with each word you uttered. It made you realize you still held him dear to you in spite of the anger; that you still craved his attention, affection and approval. Because in your heart of hearts, he is still your only family and it hurt you that he didn't want you.

"I don't hate you and neither do I harbor the same emotion for your aunt and your cousins, especially Sukuna," he stated, reaching out to you to placate you, pulling you into his arms except you refused. Still, he held you tight, soothing your back. "What have I done to you?"

"You hate me," you whispered through sobs.

"Forgive me. I loved your mother so much that I couldn't bear the thought of destroying you, too, in the process of me falling apart. I didn't give you away. I thought...I thought you'd be better off with people who can give you all the love you deserved, but I ended up doing just that.

Forgive me for not having the courage to look you and your cousins in the eye because you all have so much of your mom in all of you, and instead of reveling in it, it only reminded me of my loss."

"You weren't the only one who lost her."

"I know. I see it now." He breathed in deeply. "Forgive me for my groundless fear when I learned you were seeing Satoru, thinking so much ahead of myself, afraid you will end up like your mom and that I'll lose you, too. I'm so sorry. I'm a shitty father, I know that."

You scoffed, looking at him. "You were."

"I don't hate you, Y/N. You're all that I've left of your mother. How can I?" Tears shone in his eyes, but he tried his best not to cry, but the agony showed in his eyes, a spark of tje warmth you've always craved for finally there for you to see. He sighed. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I don't..." You calmed down a tad, your sobs reducing to sniffles, suddenly preoccupied about what he said about Satoru. "What about Satoru? Why did you bother enough to do..." You stepped back, a little exasperated. "...all of this..."

For the first time, your dad looked ashamed of himself. "I guess I was going through every father's nightmare. I understood your grandfather when Sukuna said you were different around Satoru."

"I didn't realize that either until you showed up in Hokkaido." You shivered inwardly at the way you treated Satoru back then upon reflecting on them. "You don't like him."

He flashed you a rueful smile, but that dissipated into annoyance. "I did a background check on him. He's a playboy and I only had Sukuna's words to vouch for him where your wellbeing was concerned."

You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in your throat. "I'm not proud of it, but if you should know, I was the asshole in our relationship."

He frowned, both at your choice of words and the thought of you being the bad guy. "That doesn't sound right."

"But it's true. I put him through too much."

"Do you love him?"

You nodded, motioning to pick up the document you brought with you. "Enough to fight you in court for absolute emancipation, Atty. L/N." You waved the file in front of you. "Glad we didn't have to go there."

Your father regarded the file with sorrow in his eyes and finally, his tears fell. "You're so much like your mother."

You shook your head. "No, dad. I'm a lot more like you." You shrugged, tossing the file back on the table, composing yourself despite the emotions overflowing in you, and your dad did the same. You got your emotional constipation for him for sure. Your mom had too big of a heart not to show affection, or so you remembered.

"So...Gojo Satoru..."

"Yes."

He scrunched his nose. "You couldn't have fallen for Nanami Kento instead?"

"Dad!" You snickered. "Ken is a very good friend. He's a bit scary though. Very much like a father."

"I wouldn't have disapproved of him."

"Satoru isn't bad at all."

"He's too pretty for a boy."

"I know right?" You flashed him a worried look. "Can I please introduce him to you formally now?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Be nice."

"Fine. As long as he doesn't call me father-in-law just yet."

You fell into easy laughter, finally having the kind of conversation you wish you've always had with him. And it felt good even if you missed all those years you should have spent that way with him. There's more to look forward to.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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sweet-evie · 8 days

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AHSGHADLA She looks so good. 🤩👑 A queen~

Wonder if Satoru has seen her wear her uniform without the shorts and tights? 🥴 Just the top, skirt, undies, and boots?

So I thought I'd also sketch out Yura's adult jujutsu uniform, because why not! I had a very specific image of it in my head so I tried really hard to actually recreate it on paper (or on a computer... you kno)

There you go! As you can see, the leg slits do go a little too high up (all Satoru's doing, of course). The tights are a must. Also shorts underneath the skirt.

Not pictured here, the belt with pouches that Yura would sometimes wear so she could carry some stuff around. These days, she usually just uses her shadow pocket because it's more convenient ¯\_(◡‿◡✿)_/¯

#satoyura

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sweet-evie · 8 days

Text

Someone write a forbidden love affair between Satoru Gojo and a love interest around But Daddy I Love Him 🙏😭

Because istg, the imagery it's bringing is GODLY 🙌

Obviously everyone interprets it in different ways, but it's giving forbidden romance, reckless love affairs, whirlwind romances, a love on fire in the best way, love on a car running at 200mph, "I love him, he loves me, and that's all that matters," "I love who I want," "He's crazy and dangerous, but I love him, so shut the fuck up," and "Let me love who I want."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x oc #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #wbad shit posts #Spotify

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sweet-evie · 8 days

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😭😩 Satoru, Satoru, Satoru... sweet Satoru. He's so clingy and cute and I missed them so so so much.

it's you and me (7)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader - soulmate AU

TW⚠️: highly suggestive, oral mentioned, needy gojo, clingy gojo

a/n: guess who's back... Back again.

Satoru closed his eyes; utter darkness - his soulmate was sleeping then, but he kept his eyes closed for a couple of more seconds, even in darkness he could sense curses.

Nothing, she was safe.

He sighed as he opened his eyes and thought back to his last conversation with Suguru.

"Haven't you realized how much of a burden ______ is to you?" Suguru's voice carried through the crowd, "Spending every waking moment worried about her miserable existence."

Satoru dug his nails into his palms, "Don't spout that bullshit!"

Suguru tilted his head down like he was speaking to a child, "It's true," he said, "she's weak and she will always be weak - is that the life you want, Satoru?" He cocked his head to the side, "To always bend over backwards for someone who will never understand you?"

Satoru glared.

"She's a pest -"

Enough, Satoru had, had enough; "So fucking what?!" he yelled, "None of that shit matters!"

Suguru sighed, ' ' How childish. ' '

Satoru gritted his teeth, he wasn't being childish Suguru was - killing all non-sorcerers what type of crazy crackpot mission statement was that? An impossible thing to do -

"How arrogant," Suguru said with his back turned to him, "you could do it, but you're telling me that it's impossible."

Satoru frowned as he buried his face in his pillow - fucking crazy.

"Go near her again and I'll - ." He couldn't finish the sentence... He didn't know if he could kill his best friend.

Those were Gojo Satoru's last words to Geto Suguru.

He raised his face from his pillow and grabbed his sunglasses from the nightstand - he didn't want to be alone.

Long distance travel had become easier for him. There were times when he got lost but now, Satoru was in his soulmate's dark room with minimal effort. He slipped into bed beside her carefully as to not wake her up. He slowly and gently wrapped his arms around her and lightly pressed her back to his chest. Satoru kissed the top of her head with a soft smile and as much as he wanted to kiss her lips, he didn't; he didn't want to wake her.

Eventually, Satoru's senses were drowned in his soulmate's presence. He slept with his light snores filling the silent bedroom.

______ shouldn't have been surprised when she woke up in the tight and tangled embrace of her soulmate's limbs. This wasn't the first time he has sneaked into her bedroom when she was asleep, but ever since Suguru, Satoru had begun to do it more often.

She frowned at the thought of her former friend, at how sweet he used to be, at how understanding he was of everyone, only to be replaced by a cruel shell of him, or perhaps, Suguru was always that person and they were all simply not paying attention.

No, the Suguru she knew would never use her insecurities against her, the Suguru she knew would never abandon Satoru in such a callous way.

She'll never forget it, the look of pure disgust when he faced her like she was dirt under his shoe. The way he let the curses blood drip on the floor, or the way his smile lifted itself into something cruel when she flinched away from him, satisfied that he had frightened her.

At least, when she closed her eyes she would see what Satoru saw, instead of Suguru, but her dreams - no, her nightmares were plagued.

She ran her fingers through Satoru's hair, he hummed in his sleep - shifting his head towards her touch, still seeking her warmth in his sleep despite holding her so closely already.

She didn't tell Satoru what happened, only that Suguru had come by and was acting weird, but nothing about what he had said to her. Satoru already looked so tired when he came the morning after, even if he tried to hide it from her with a bright smile. If she told him it would only cause him more pain, and Satoru told her most of what happened. Geto Suguru defected, he massacred an entire village, and decided his own path - Satoru didn't tell her about the conversation they had about her.

How could he? She had already once pulled away from him because she wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer and like hell was he going to spark that up again.

A phone rang loudly besides her, but it was not the phone that woke up Satoru, it was her untangling herself from that did.

He groaned softly as he held onto her tighter, "Answer it later."

______ stretched her body towards the nightstand to grab the phone, "It's your phone that's ringing, 'toru."

Satoru groaned louder, who the fuck is it?

She passed his phone to him.

The moment he flipped it open, someone was yelling. Something along the lines of - Where are you?! The higher ups are looking for you?!

Satoru almost crushed the phone like a tin can when he was told that he needed to go on a mission. He hung up abruptly as he buried his face into her neck and whined loudly.

She kissed his temple, "Another out of town mission?"

Satoru nodded.

She lightly scratched the back of his neck, "Isn't there another special grade sorcerer who can take the mission?"

Satoru kissed her collarbones, "Nope, just me." He looked up at her, "I'll make it quick." He leaned up and kissed her deeply.

Four Days Later

She thought Satoru would need time, or at least space. She may have lost a friend, but Satoru; Satoru had lost someone who unequivocally understood him. Geto Suguru, who stood at the top beside him, not below him.

Time, she thought, he would need time. Satoru had just lost someone so important in his life, he would no doubt distance himself from her.

Satoru slipped his cold hands under her shirt and sighed as he buried his face in her neck pressing light kisses on her skin.

She was wrong.

Instead of distancing himself like she thought he would, Satoru had become unavoidable. Where she was, he was with his arms tight around her waist, coiling like a serpent.

His kisses were rougher and longer. She had to forcefully pull his soft hair to pry his lips away from her just so she could breathe. Breathing seemed optional for her boyfriend now too, after prying his mouth off of her, he would latch his lips onto another part of her skin, until she regained her breath and Satoru would needly kiss her again.

Today was no different, despite her telling him that she had so much homework to do that she couldn't keep putting it off to spend the day with him.

"I'll be good," he said.

"You won't even know that I'm there," he said.

This was her fault, really, he never kept his word, especially when his latest mission ran longer than expected and he hadn't seen her in four days.

Satoru squeezed her thighs and spread them apart to fit his body against hers, pinning her down with his entire body. His glasses laid neatly on the side of the bed, her notebooks and pencils were thrown on the floor, completely forgotten by Satoru, but not from her.

Satoru kissed like a man starved, but she needed to breathe, like many times before, she gripped his hair and pulled roughly. She learned a while ago that she had to put force to pry him off, otherwise he wouldn't budge. He chased her lips, but she kept his head firmly in place.

Satoru whined, "Come on, baby," his hands slid under her skirt, "I haven't seen you in a week."

She huffed and puffed, still trying to catch her breath, "It was four days, 'toru."

"Might as well have been an eternity," Satoru leaned down and pressed a kiss on her jawline.

She smoothed her fingertips to brush his hair, "I really need to finish my homework."

He bunched up her skirt up to her waist and placed his palm flat on her stomach, "After I get a taste."

Satoru gripped her thighs and buried his face in her core.

She tangled her fingers in his snowy white hair and hoped that her door was locked, hoped that the bakery was so full of people that no one could hear them.

This would not end with him just getting a 'taste'.

Shameless is what Gojo Satoru was. Completely, and utterly shameless. After he was done, not without stealing one more breathtaking kiss from her, he warped in front of the store and waved at her mother gleefully - pretending like he hadn't been there all along. Helping her mother around the store, acting like he hadn't just defiled her daughter a few seconds ago, like he couldn't still taste his soulmate's sweet slick on his tongue.

Her mom liked Satoru. He helped around and Satoru was good at everything even if he ate half the batter and cookie dough - he still was a good baker and he bought so many baked goods from the store that any batter that he ate was reimbursed when he splurged.

"Treating my daughter well?" Her mom asks him everyday.

And Satoru always replies with a bright grin that showed off his pearly white teeth, "Like a princess."

______ finally heads down stairs after fixing her skirt and shirt, making sure to cover the hickeys Satoru left on her with concealer. He never had to face any consequences or worry about being marked. His reverse curse technique healed him of everything... even hickeys. Which was incredibly annoying but just poked fun at her before leaving more hickeys on her neck before teleporting off with that stupid smirk of his.

Satoru places a small kiss on her temple. Her legs still trembled from their quickie earlier but she hid it well by sitting down and making raspberry jam.

Her mom orders them to make a set amount of raspberry filled pastries and gives Satoru a firm look, "And no eating any of them."

Satoru straightens his back comically and salutes her, "Yes, ma'am!"

Her mom looked at him until she left and disappeared to tend to customers.

Satoru went straight to trying to eat one.

______ scolds, "Gojo Satoru."

He stiffens and gives her a warm smile, "Please?"

"No, put it down."

Satoru pouts and whines before dragging himself towards her, "Can I get a kiss instead?"

"Sure," she says but stays weary. "But only a small one."

Satoru practically bounces into her arms. The kiss was not small. It was full and long, and worst of all, he slipped his tongue in.

He was greedy, so greedy.

Before she could tug on his soft hair, he pulled away and shoved a pastry into his mouth with shit eating grin.