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sweet-evie · 8 months

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Listen listen! 😭

Husband!Gojo hitting on a shy S/O in public FOR FUN.

He's so fucking embarrassing, but endearing at the same time.

He's opening doors for them and Husband!Gojo just keeps complimenting them on how good they look.

Walking with him in public, and Husband!Gojo just hits them with a flirty whistle or cat calls them when they're off doing something, like picking out stuff to buy or window shopping.

Husband!Gojo has the most outrageous, borderline explicit, innuendos and pick-up lines that he says LOUDLY.

Honks at them when he's in the car, like, "Hey sexy, I'm going to park the car!"

Walking through the mall and randomly he's like, "You're so hot. You're the hottest thing. Look at you! Just look at you, damn."

Calling out to his S/O when they meet up after shopping separately like, "Hey, sexy. You're looking fine!"

Standing in line at a pastry shop or café and he's telling them, "All these cakes, and I only see two that I really want," while staring at his S/O's behind over the rims of his dark sunglasses.

They're at the groceries in the produce section with other shoppers, and Husband!Gojo is like, "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber."

Hitting on them while they're shopping for clothes at a department store, and he comes up to them with his own cart, pretending to be a stranger going, "You know what you'd look beautiful in? My arms."

His flirting gets so out of hand that one time, a random person noticed and actually asked the S/O if they're okay and if 'this white-haired weirdo' is making them uncomfortable. And Husband!Gojo is just there with the cockiest grin spread across his face, trying not to burst out laughing.

Embarrassed thoroughly, but also feeling really giddy from Husband!Gojo's blatant show of affection, S/O tells the stranger, "Thank you... It's okay. My husband is just loud."

Strangers who hear Husband!Gojo's verbal PDA either give side-eye or notice the flashy diamond ring on S/O's fourth finger, and the thick matching platinum band, studded with smaller diamonds on Gojo's finger, and they move on.

Because the dork who keeps hitting on this attractive person is actually married.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x gn!reader #satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #thoughts #headcanons #imagines #gojo x oc #gojo/reader #wbad fanfiction

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megvmins · 5 months

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COLD HANDS and JJK men solutions

Grabs your hands and shove them under his shirt, pulls you closer and tells you that you can feel him up since he runs hot, no other reason

- GOJO, TOJI, itadori, aoi

Takes your hands into his own and blows on them, massaging the warmth into them

- NANAMI, megumi, GETO, toge, choso

Has hot packs ready because he tends to get cold or just anticipates that someone will be in need of them later on

- toge, NANAMI, noritoshi, mechamaru (kokichi)

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hinakazino · 5 months

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DOLLS OF US || JJK!Men x Reader

Summary: You're a small business owner taking custom crochet-doll requests from people. One of the most popular requests? Couple dolls posing together! But what happens when you get caught having made one of you and your crush?

Some Context: Reader is currently in college and this is basically her well known side hustle to handle debt.

Warnings: None, mainly fluff.

GOJO SATORU

He was honestly snooping around your house, honestly! It wasn't often you both hung out one-on-one nowadays, with the workload in college and career planning, life was stressful. So while you were busy in the bathroom Gojo couldn't help walking about.

It wasn't like he hadn't been in your room before, though, you both mainly stayed in your living room most of the time when he was over. His eyes quickly surveyed the room, it was the same as before. He remembers your cute plushies, your art supplies, your bed, shelf, and overall layout.

Satoru walks in and notices the side of your table, where you often kept crochet pieces that were finished or a work in progress. He snickered at the Shrek piece you were almost done with, he couldn't believe someone actually paid for that. His face quickly turned into curiosity as he spotted a piece on the top of your mini wall shelf.

In your room he always knew you had a shelf pushed against the wall that was situated on part of your table, it was where your finished pieces sat and your unfinished where on the table below. His eyes scanned over the top of your shelf, which held a single piece.

Gojo's eyes widened as he realized it was a piece of you and him. You both had your hands intertwined as if dancing, and he was holding onto the small of your back as you were swaying backwards. Held together with a small wooden stand with a simple support structure.

By the time you'd come out of the bathroom, you'd already seen him missing from the living room, and walking into your bedroom you instantly went quiet. He was playing with your favorite crochet piece, an amused expression on his face.

"Awh~ Do you like me y/n?" Satoru asks, his eyes brimming with excitement as his lips twisted into a smug grin. You blushed in embarrassment, unsure of whether he was just teasing you. "It's-- It's not what you think!! That's not me and it was a commissioned piece, like by--" he cut you off.

Satoru had grabbed you by the wrist and had pulled you towards him, not roughly but enough that you landed on him. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to sit hugging him on his lap, in your bed. You felt your heart beat quicken as his breath softly fanned your ear as he spoke, "you don't have to lie to me, I like ya too you know?"

You sigh and smack him lightly, "ow! what was that for??" he asks. You pull away and stare at him, "for not just saying so, this is really embarrassing ya know?" you mock him. Only to be met with his laughter as he pulls you into another embrace, "let's just stay like this.." he says softly.

CHOSO

Oh Choso always loved you, he was just really afraid to say so. He knew if you rejected him, it'd be the end of your guys friendship, if not then it'd be insanely awkward. He wouldn't be able to handle any of it if it did happen.

He was currently at your house as your tutor, you were both friends of course but he had offered to tutor you in a subject you were struggling on. Despite him swearing that you didn't need to pay him (it was enough for him to be in your presence), you insisted.

Of course, he gave you a discount, but he tried his best to be strict with you when it was lesson time. You guys had just finished a lesson and you had to go out to run a quick errand. "Make yourself at home Cho! I'm going to get some snacks from the store to restock my collection!" you said, giggling as you left.

That left him with his own thoughts as he took his time examining your home. He often wondered what it'd be like to date you, and imagined a future with you in it. As his mind was flooded with thoughts of you he'd decided to peak into your room.

Tutoring was mostly in the living room but it wasn't like he hadn't been in your bedroom before, but this time he wasn't dreamily staring at it like usual. He noticed a crochet piece you had on your bed, which was a bit strange as he knew you were very careful with your work.

What struck him more was as he stepped closer he recognized that one of the dolls looked like him and the other you. His mind was instantly filled with whether you had a crush on him too, was this his calling? Could this be solid proof of now being the correct time to confess his feelings?

He didn't know how long he stood fondling the dolls in his hands, it was very cute, just the both of you holding hands. However, it was long enough that he heard the door click signaling your arrival. He quickly rushed out, posture very tense as you approached him.

"Hey I'm back! Uh- you okay? Did you have dia--" "I saw them," Choso stated, much to your confusion and his it seemed as he struggled to formulate words. "I saw the dolls you made, do you.." he went silent as you nervously confessed.

"Yeah I've had a thing for you for a long time now," you say anxiously as you fiddle your fingers, you don't know what to do. "I understand this may complicate everything between us, if you want to leave it is okay--" you blurt with a mix of fear and embarrassment. "I don't," he responds.

You had your head down, but now find the courage to glance up at him. Only seeing him smile down at you, "I've liked you too, just, never got around saying it," he says scratching his head while looking away. The blush on his cheeks was adorable as he led you to the couch, making sure to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

He is Itadori's older brother, who you know because you're best friends with Itadori. There was a tension between you both at first but it was due to you finding him scary. Not anymore though! You both hang out one-on-one occasionally. It was actually since one time you wanted to watch a really good movie that just came out and no one else was free. Sukuna had heard you begging Itadori to come with you over the phone and decided he'd come instead to prevent your crisis. Sukuna had developed a crush on you then. He loved the way you'd cry for sad movies, your face when you'd eat your favorite sweets, and all the little details about you he's noticed throughout the years.

Today he happened to be picking up some stuff Itadori had forgot at your place. Sukuna sighs, "hey! just came to get some of the brats stuff," he huffed walking into your living room. You smiled at him, "alright! you can get what ya need! you don't have to be so mean to itadori," you say giggling. Sukuna proceeds to go straight to your room as Itadori said that's where his uniform was. He couldn't help thinking what Itadori could've been doing in your room as he quickly snatched his uniform off your chair. Stopping when he spotted two dolls, looking like a crochet couple. It had caught his eye with its pink hair, Sukuna honestly felt horrified about it being itadori but when he grabbed it he was positive it was him. Who else had tattoos like his anyway? He felt relief, soon replaced with a warm bubbly feeling in his heart. It was a sweet piece of him holding your back as you both stood looking out.

He wasn't one to date lightly, but with how long he'd been thinking of you this was literally his time to shine. Perfect how you walked in for the moment too, "Kuna, did you find it?" you asked as you came up to him.

He chose to turn around when he felt you near, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him as he dangled the dolls in front of you. "Wha--" you let out a cry in surprise that soon turned to a nervous silence, your eyes noticing the dolls and then concentrating on his face. "Say, do you like me y/n?" Sukuna asked, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced down at the way you gulped cautiously. The cat was already out of the bag, "yes..." you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes drifted downward as rejection filled your head before staring up back at him as he commanded you to face him.

Sukuna could tell you were on the verge of tears but he didn't want this to be a cruel moment so he softly planted a kiss on your forehead. "Don't cry you idiot, I like you too," he said chuckling as he lightly pinched your cheek.

"Really?" you asked, oh he thought your voice was so cute. "Yeah, I do, and you know I think you should make another set of these dolls," he said as he cupped your face in his hands.

"Why?" you asked, your face being squished by him as he responded, "so I can have my own to keep of course, to remember how cute you are." You felt heat rush to your face from his words, but he only scoffed at how excited you seemed to do it.

#anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #choso x reader #sukuna ryomen #gojo satoru #choso kamo #jjk x reader #sukuna/reader #gojo/reader #choso/reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #choso kamo x reader #satoru gojo #ryomen sukuna #kamo choso

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hawnks · 3 months

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ariadne's thread (3,839 words) Rating : Mature Gojo Satoru/Reader Tags : Fix-It, Jujutsu Kaisen Manga Spoilers, Major Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Are You Gojo Satoru Because You're the Strongest, Or Are You the Strongest Because You're Gojo Satoru, Reader Has a Cursed Technique (Jujutsu Kaisen), Reader is JADED, Clingy Gojo Satoru, Mythology as a Motif, Vanilla Sex

Summary: He loses himself. He finds you, instead.

Read on AO3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo/reader #jjk spoilers #that is not a light warning there are SPOILERS in here #keeping up my tradition of posting at the worst possible times <3

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freakystinky · 5 months

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ns4w, gojo/ambiguous partner

Gojo is seriously the type of guy who would have zero physical boundaries after he starts dating someone; like a toddler who can’t keep their hands off things. Obviously there’s the normal casual touching, which turns more romantic and exaggerated, but also a new, more intimate kind of touching.

He’s grabby.

He’s also bold, and increasingly so the more he gets away with it. Always, no matter the time, place, or occasion, if his hands are available, they are resolutely holding handfuls of his partners ass, chest, hips, hair… anywhere he can reach, really. He gravitates towards them, always present with a hand gripping their thigh, waist, neck… and when he doesn’t, he’s pouty and upset- sometimes even a little mad. He’s a brat about it, actually.

… In private, he’d walk up behind his parter at any time and sneakily slide his hand into their pants after a chaste kiss on the neck and a whispered greeting. He acts before he asks, but he’s a tease so he’s sure to pose the question once he has a hand around them and he’s invading all of their senses. It’s hard to say no when his breathing is getting heavy next to their ear and he’s driving them crazy with the erection he’s grinding against their ass.

He’d grab them, bruising where fingers grasped at whatever soft flesh they can find when he cums, and he hesitates to let go once he’s done, too.

#going thru my drafts lol #imagine how cute and huffy and pouty he would be if u told him no #he'd be like…. but.. but… WHY??? and act like a kicked puppy the entire time #he'd get all grumpy after a while like he's withdrawing #god #adult toddler ass. grabby. bratty when he doesn't get what he wants. I want to eat him #gojo x reader #never thought I'd use that one lmao #gojo satoru #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo/reader #jujutsu kaisen #ns4w

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stillalittlelostngl · 1 year

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Gojo/Reader Sick Day NSFW

So this is a one-shot rn but i’m thinking of making it maybe an interconnected series of them? I toyed w/ the idea of a fully fleshed out story for it but idk. I don’t really have a good idea of the reader’s character to get heavy into a plot like that. One shots where i don’t have to develop a background and distinct character motivations tho? I can do that. Maybe something will come to me and i’ll circle back around to it idk. I’m also working on a geto/reader (honestly haven’t truly decided on the pairing yet - toss up between nanami & geto) that i’m actually really excited about so i feel like i’d be spreading myself a bit thin. If you want a good gojo/reader fic go check out mushmoon12’s - the girls are being fed w/ it omg.

I’ve had the outline of this ready to go since November and have just been sitting on it.

You can’t hold back the mumbled curses as you shift around. Your body unable to get comfortable no matter which way you twist and turn under the mountain of blankets you had piled on top of yourself before falling asleep.

Everything is much too warm and your body aches as you move. Your fever has not gone down it seems.

You had woken earlier that day with a kick drum pounding behind your eyes, your throat scratchy and your skin searing hot to the touch. You weren’t used to feeling anything other than ‘normal’ so the cold you’d developed had you convinced you were at death’s door. Calling in sick from classes left a bad taste in your mouth but the thought of pushing your aching body to get dressed and walk all the way across campus was less and less appealing by the second.

You’re not sure if the text you’d sent to Yaga had been coherent - your mind was much too foggy to concern itself with such details - but after sending it you had promptly rolled back over and cocooned yourself into your bed, hoping to sleep off whatever it was that had you feeling so miserable.

It hadn’t worked, of course, you realize as your mind becomes more and more present. With an irritated huff you work on untangling yourself, the process taking longer as your limbs feel like dead weight as you try to coordinate yourself.

You finally manage to get your head out from beneath the covers, your eyes squinting at the harsh light you don’t recall turning on, and you let out a soft gasp of surprise when the first thing you see after returning to the world of the living is deep cerulean.

“Mornin’”, Satoru’s smile is all teeth and he’s certainly made himself comfortable on your bed as his larger body has somehow taken up most of the space. He’s laid out like he owns the place. You’re not all that sure of when he got there. Or how. You’re certain your door had been locked before you went to bed last night.

You raise a questioning brow to him, “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see how pathetic you are when you’re sick,” he brings one of his hands to your forehead, feeling the fever on your skin and clicks his tongue, “I didn’t believe Yaga at first but you really are in a bad way, huh? Poor thing.”

You’d roll your eyes at his teasing if you could find the energy for it.

"Fuck off,” is all you can manage to mumble before attempting to shift away from him. Entertaining him when you feel as if you’d been hit with a semi isn’t sounding all that appealing.

"Hey, hey," his hands make quick work of stopping you from moving away from him, "Don't be like that. How are you even more cranky than usual? You must be feeling better.” He pulls your face back to him and his eyes examine you under those long white lashes. He takes in the rosy hue of your cheeks and the glazed over look in your eyes. It’s all looking very familiar to him even if he’d never seen you sick before. You recognize the look in his eyes too.

You blame the sudden dizzy feeling overtaking your brain on the fever.

"I know!” he suddenly releases your face and claps his hands as he arrives at a thought, not paying attention to how the sharp noise causes you to wince slightly "let's play doctor. I'll take real good care of you.”

"Please, I'm surprised you manage to keep yourself alive day to day.”

"Come on,” he insists as his hands begin uncovering the rest of your body from the blankets, ignoring your protests, “It'll be fun. Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you practically hiss as you put up a weak resistance against his wandering hands.

“Not really what I had in mind,” the octave his voice takes causes you to still in your movements. He smiles down at you with that shit eating grin. The one that promises that he’s up to no good. You’ve seen it a million times - usually it’s reserved for when he’s about to do something to annoy Yaga that you and Geto try to talk him out of. More recently, though, he’s been using it when it’s just you two.

A trill goes down your spine, heating your body further at the thought of the good trouble he’s been the cause of recently.

You nearly hiss when he finally manages to uncover the rest of your body. The cool air hitting your overheated skin brings some relief but it’s short lived as his hands begin to travel to where your sleeping top has ridden up, his fingers ghosting along the skin as he toys with the hem.

His eyes drink in the sight of you in that way that makes your stomach do flips before he startings leaning down towards you again, bringing his face closer and closer to your own.

Gojo let's out a soft questioning hum when his lips meet your cheek instead of the intended target. You can see the pout already forming on his lips, upset that you had turned your head from him and denied him. He always pouted when he didn’t get his way. Spoiled brat.

"I could get you sick,” you explain as you bring your hands to the ones that are still playing with the fabric of your top. Tempting as he was, one of you had to be sensible and you knew it was never going to be him.

His pout quickly morphs into another shit eating grin at your explanation. “Oh, you really do care about me. Don’t you?”

You barely get a mumbled ‘shut up’ out before he silences you with a kiss. His lips quickly molding against yours and silencing whatever harsh words you had for him. You can’t help the small moan as his tongue slips against yours.

He shifts above you, caging you in-between his body and the mattress as he moves to pepper sloppy kisses and bites down your neck and collarbone, tasting the slight salty sheen of sweat that coats your skin. Your breath shudders at the feeling of his teeth as he marks you. He’s always eager to leave marks on your skin - you want to hate him for it. You’ve told him so many times to be mindful of where he leaves them, not wanting to suffer the awkward glances that others might send your way should they see them. You’re certain the idea of others seeing evidence of the time the two of you spend together only encourages him to do it more. Bastard.

It’s hard to stay mad at him though. At least when his mouth is moving against your skin like this.

He pulls back from his work for a moment, surely admiring it you think in irritation, before his eyes raise and meet yours. When you offer no further protest he rewards you with a kiss as his hands begin removing what little clothing you had on. His eagerness making quick work of the process. His hands and mouth travel across the expanse of newly exposed skin. His fingers dip between your folds and you feel him smile against your skin. You’re already soaking wet.

"You're not being a very good doctor, you know,” your breath is airy, the feeling of his fingers against you sends a buzz of pleasure throughout your body. Your mind too muddled with desire to think as his other hand moves your thighs further apart to make room for him. Anticipation coiling the spring further and you nearly forget how to breathe properly, "More like a pervert taking advantage.”

"Semantics,” his breath ghosts along your skin as he moves further down your body.

Your hands rush forward to grab his head, stopping him. He stares at you, the question evident on his face and you can’t help but look away in embarrassment.

"I feel gross" and you do. The sweat from your fever doesn’t exactly feel sexy in the moment.

"I'm gunna make a mess of you either way" he says, continuing his descent as his fingers resume their exploration of you. You can’t stop the gasp as he pushes one inside of you, it glides in easily to the first knuckle. Your soft flesh warming him to the bone, "does it really matter?" The feeling of his breath on your clit as his finger slowly begins to pump in a steady rhythm nearly makes you forget every thought you’ve ever had.

"I guess not"

He wastes little time pressing his tongue against you, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head at the overwhelming sensation as he slips another finger into you, stretching you out further. You’re mesmerized by the sight he makes between your thighs, gripping his white hair tightly as you groan at the heat building inside of you. The feeling of your nails raking through his hair against his scalp is enough to have him choking out his own moan. The sound vibrating against your core and sending another wave of pleasure through you.

You can’t help the incoherent babbling of praise and encouragement that falls from your lips when his fingers increase in tempo and his lips lock around your clit. It has you squirming in his hold, trying to meet each thrust of his fingers.

Your desire builds, steadily climbing but your hazy mind recognizes that it’s not enough. You need more.

He lets you pull his head up to yours. You nearly whine as you feel his fingers slip out of you, your heat cleaning around the new emptiness as you bring his lips to yours again. You taste yourself on his lips as your tongue explores his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull his body closer to yours. You feel his length straining against his pants as your grind your hips against his, the friction sending small electric currents of pleasure throughout your body but still not enough.

You force your aching muscles to move and soon enough you find yourself on top of him. In the back of your mind you want to think that you surprised him with the movement but you know that he’s only under you because he allowed it.

He’s smiling up at you, his eyes heavy lidded with desire as his hands come to rest on your hips. He looks nearly delirious and you’re sure he could say the same for you.

“Eager, are you?” his teasing is cut short with a groan as you grind down on him again. The fabric between you doing little to mask the feeling of him against you.

You bite your tongue to prevent your own reply to his stupid remark, opting instead to pull on his waistband and release his dick from the restraint of his pants. You nearly smirk as he lets out a soft hiss at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, he’s always been so sensitive that even the slightest touch from you can draw noises from him.

Your other hand goes to balance yourself on his chest as you raise your hips. You can’t stop your own noises from spilling from your lips as you lower yourself onto him. His nails sink into your flesh deeper as you take him inside of you inch by inch. He doesn’t bother to quiet the loud moan when you finally have his dick fully inside of you. He never bothers to be quiet.

Your pace starts off steady as you move against him. Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you fight off your own moans at the look of him beneath you. His pale skin is flushed, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open. You raise your hips higher, his length nearly slipping out of your completely before you’re slamming yourself back down onto him. The action drawing noises from both of you, his dick buried so deep inside of you with each movement that it leaves you seeing stars. His fingers digging into your hips leave small indentations as his grip tightens, small curses leaving his lips as he watches you move on him.

"You're supposed to be the one taking care of me and here I am doin all the work," you moan, digging your own nails into the skin of his chest as punishment, "fucking spoiled brat."

"You wanna be spoiled too baby?" He grabs your hips suddenly, taking control as he thrusts up into you. He angles himself just right to hit that sweet spot again and again. The one that makes you sing for him. "Cmon, is this what you wanted? Gotta use your words" he teases, knowing that he's fucking any sense right out of you.

Your grasp of how to coherently string together a sentence in any human language is lost to you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering and throwing any arrangements of syllables together that would get him to just keep doing that. The tips of your ears begin to burn as you feel yourself reaching your peak. His thrusts become harder and deeper as he feels you beginning to clench around him, knowing the signs that you’re close has him chasing his own release.

Gojo’s always been such a visual creature. The sight of you fucking yourself onto him, his length entering your wet heat, your whole body being rocked by his thrusts is nearly enough for him finish right then and there. It isn’t until he feels you spasming over him and his name tumbling out of your mouth like a prayer that the pressure becomes too much. His thrusts become erratic as pulls your body down against his, drawing out your orgasm with each movement. The pressure snaps with one final thrust into you, his warmth filling you to the brim as he releases a strangled cry of your name. He pumps into you a few more times, riding out his wave until there’s nothing left. You can feel his heart hammering away in his chest as you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When you look up at him you find his eyes already trained on you. His pupils are still so blown out that they nearly overtake the entirety of the blue you’ve grown so attached to. His smile isn’t the cocky self-assured one or the shit eating grin that you’ve grown to associate him with. It’s a soft thing that is so unlike him you almost think you’re seeing things. His hand rises to your cheeks and the kiss is soft too. Tender, even, as he holds you against him. He pulls back from you with a content sigh.

“That was really dumb.” you can’t help but say, “you’re going to be really annoying in the next few days when you start to come down with whatever I have.”

He scoffs.

“Please, as if I’d get sick,” he says as if the idea is entirely ludacris. Maybe it is. With a power like his, who knows.

You turn your head down hiding your own soft smile as you bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent.

It’s followed by a sharp yelp of pain from his as you bite down against the skin.

Just enough to hurt.

Just enough to remind him he’s human too.

____

He does get sick and like predicted is very fucking needy about it and whines to you to take care of him

"You have to take responsibility! You did this to me" "Dumbass I told you you'd get sick! This isn't my responsibility!" "How was I supposed to know this would happen? You should've been smarter and stopped me" "You had your tongue down my throat! Of course this would happen"

you do end up playing nurse. He's so demanding and childish but it's also...kinda cute.

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owlespresso · 8 months

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this is a wip. gojo experts feel free to chime in if his dialog doesn't sound right.

“So you’re teaching, now?” Gojo says with a wry grin, too wide, too many sharp teeth. “You retiring soon? I didn’t expect it, but I guess you are getting a few greys.” His playful blue gaze strays towards your mentor’s hairline, where a few silvery strands have begun to show through. You find yourself becoming miffed on his behalf.

“Not anywhere close to being able to,” Sen replies with a tight smile.

“She’s a special case, then?” Gojo tilts his head to the side.

“Hunters of our order take on several apprentices throughout their tenure, instead of simply training one before they retire.” you take that chance to chime in, keeping your tone cool and perfectly polite. “She is in the room.” you so very desperately want to declare, but you must hold your tongue in the presence of the young god king.

You very nearly regret chiming in as he turns his unearthly blues to you. Looking closer, you at last notice that his pupils are narrower than the average human’s, but not as thin as a serpent’s would be. It’s an awkward, oval kind of shape. Your stomach churns.

As a hunter, your instincts have been trained to a fine point. Your gut feelings are absolute certainties. You can recognize the signs of a predator full miles away, can track monsters through numerous types of terrain for miles at a time. You know when a beast is skulking in the dark, when it marks your presence and observes you from the comfort of the cloying shadows. How you feel now is disconcertingly familiar. Like a beast you’ve been sent to slay is hunting you as much as you are hunting it.

“And what’s your name, little hunter?” the resplendent lord asks, voice gone soft, like the faint ring of distant windchimes. Light with amusement.

#gojo satoru/reader #gojo/reader

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sweet-evie · 24 days

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What Those Eyes See

A/N: Just brainrot birthed from this post about Gojo's Six Eyes. I'm going back to writing Satsuki's 1st birthday now.

✨ masterlist ✨

A Saturday afternoon spent wandering through Shibuya wasn’t usually on her top list of things to do on the weekend, but when Satoru fervently asked (more like pleaded) for her company on a specific excursion of his, she couldn’t really say ‘no’.

Or more like… It was hard to tell him, ‘No.’

The distant rumble of accelerating engines, the shuffling of countless footsteps on pavement, and the distinct cacophony of the crowded town had not left her ears ever since she and Satoru had left the subway station. This town with its beeps and whistles and chatter held her attention, so much so that she barely heard Satoru’s voice above the symphony of hectic city life.

“More than a handful of pregnant women are out today.” Satoru spoke nonchalantly, walking beside her with one hand in his jeans’ pocket, while the other hand was busy twirling a blue sucker in his mouth.

Part of her didn’t even believe that she heard him right. Why did he say it like he was just talking about the weather?

“What?”

He peered at her over the rims of his sunnies, blue eyes that mirrored clear skies sparkling under the light of the afternoon sun.

“Mhmm… You heard me. Don't know if I told you this, Sweetheart, but I can see a lot of things.” The grin stretched across his lips was nothing short of attractive and shit-eating. “And to think, you mistook me for a blind man when we met.”

She narrowly side-stepped a couple hurrying down the sidewalk, bags swinging from both of their arms.

“Yeah, you're the extreme opposite of blind.” She shook her head and smirked at him. “You’re telling me you have an ultrasound with those eyes?”

Satoru pursed his lips and made a show of humming out loud thoughtfully.

"That's different.” He popped the sucker out of his mouth. “Ultrasounds use high-frequency sound waves to show you pictures of the fetus, right?” At her shrug and refusal to meet his eyes, he continued explaining as they headed for their destination. “With the Six Eyes however, I see more than just the person’s physical body. There's cursed energy, and then there's the formation of the human soul. The unborn child’s soul resides right next to the mother's. Kind’a hard to miss two of those stuck together and sharing one body."

The longer he talked, the more her questions multiplied.

The Six Eyes and what it could see had always been a point of intrigue for her. Over the years, Satoru never bothered telling her the intricate details or the true scope of what he could see out of his own volition. If she was curious about aspects of his power, she would always ask and he would give her a direct answer. She had never asked him to explain all of it to her in great detail, and that was because part of her suspected that even if he would indulge that request, she wouldn’t be capable of comprehending it anyway — certainly not in a way Satoru himself understood it.

Besides… where would one even begin?

So the additional piece of information he’d offered out of the blue would have been odd under normal circumstances if she hadn’t been keen on withholding important news of her own for the past few weeks.

“As a matter of fact,” Satoru mused as they paused at another crosswalk, “There are eight pregnant women in this area right now. Not sure if they know though. It seems like it's pretty early.”

In the end, concealing it had been useless from the beginning.

“Satoru…”

“Hm?”

“You already know huh?”

“Nine pregnant women, if we include you.” The answering grin he flashed her way was an answer all on its own. “I knew from the first week.”

Of course he knew… Of course he found out.

She was pleasantly surprised to find out that there was no trace of panic nor apprehension in her, only resignation. Despite how meticulously she’d disposed of her positive pregnancy test and how carefully she’d planned her first doctor’s appointment after her discovery, the truth etched into her own soul revealed itself anyways.

Of course Satoru and his Six Eyes knew about the existence of their unborn child before she did.

“Why didn't you say anything? You knew before I did. I discovered it in the fifth week.”

“And even after you found out, you obviously didn't want me to know right away. I didn’t want to pressure you or anything.” Or possibly freak her out with the knowledge that he knew before she could even guess about her child’s existence.

“So what changed your mind now?”

“It’s been 17 weeks. I can’t wait anymore. I also just wanted to start shopping for stuff for the nursery with you.”

“Satoru, you're not bothered?”

“Baby, we've been dating for four years. Why would I be bothered?”

It was a stupid question. If she wasn’t so preoccupied with her own discomfort, her nausea, and her silent struggle to keep all the hardships to herself during the first trimester, perhaps she would have noticed all the little things Satoru did every day to help ease her discomfort. In hindsight, she should have noticed the addition of health supplements in the kitchen, the well-stocked fridge and pantry, and Satoru’s insistence on hiring someone who could do household chores for them.

And in hindsight, she shouldn’t have hesitated in telling him.

She should have trusted him more.

“It’s something we never talked about before. You’re… You’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed in who?” The look on his face was a cross between being offended and a little sad. “You? Just what kind of guy do you think I am?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that… I just— I’ve already decided on keeping the baby, but I don’t know if you—”

He sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You’re right. It’s something we haven’t talked about, and we should talk more about this later… Lay down our plans and stuff for the coming months. But for now, I just want you to know that I’m happy about starting a family with you.”

“You really mean that?” Maybe it was the sentiment or perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones acting up, but the unshed tears that gathered at the edges of her eyelids revealed the relief and the gratitude welling up within her.

“I wouldn’t have asked you out today to shop for baby things with me if it were otherwise.” Satoru’s lopsided smile was assurance at its finest.

“Excuse you, you never mentioned what we were supposed to be doing here today.”

“Right… Well, that’s on me.” He grinned and slipped an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to his side, “But also, you didn’t think I knew up ‘til now.”

“Satoru, I can’t with you.”

At the very least, it was nice to know her anxieties over the whole thing amounted to nothing after all.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x oc #satoru gojou x reader #gojo/reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x oc #wbad fanfiction

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megvmins · 8 months

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since ur shy I can get you started b; what’re your head-canons for Gojo regarding NSFW? I’ve seen everything from breeding to BDSM but honestly I think he’s more “lay down and let you take care of it” type, or maybe a voyeurist

ugh I feel like he can do it all 😩

but to actually answer I definitely join the gojo breeding kink truthers, not necessarily because he would want kids (jujutsu society is not the best place for kiddos) but he is possessive beyond belief and the high he gets from painting your insides?? unparalleled

also I definitely see what you're saying cuz he would let you do all the work just to tease you and wait for you to break and beg for him to do something. he is mean like that sometimes :(( and then he'll bend you in half and go to town just pounding you into the bed until you go little bit dumb just for him chuckle at your state, "you asked for it. don't try to run now."

the voyeur thing I could see but only to some extent, I feel like he is too impatient to wait for you to play with yourself when he can just push your legs open and shove his face into your pussy and make you feel even better. :(( and he doesn't stop licking and sucking even when your legs are shaking and you try to push his head away. it might turn him on even more, he'd groan and double his efforts cuz "one more. just one more." that's what the previous two times as well.

#i channeled years of reading smut into this aaahhhh #good thing gojo makes me feral so it should stave off the shyness #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo/reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #moon writes #moon replies

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hinakazino · 6 months

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Against Your Will || Sukuna/Gojo x Reader

summary: you and gojo were lovers, but not all is meant to last. especially with sukuna's existence.

warnings: MANGAAAAAAAA SPOILERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, read at your own risk, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, forced relationship, MAJOR character death, angst with no comfort, tons of gojo/reader, but sukuna/reader happens.

You remember very clearly. The soft breeze blowing through your hair, looking up at the clear blue sky, and snapping out of your trans when he called your name. Ah, that's right, him, Gojo Satoru. You were standing in a beautiful garden, filled with many uniquely styled bushes, vibrant flowers, water fountains, and much more. It was like a magical place, and now, a loving memory. It was the place he had asked you to be his girlfriend, and as time passed you became his wife. Others considered you both young when you married, but you both cared less. You loved Gojo, his beautiful sky blue eyes, silky white hair, strong build, softness, as well as his rough spots. Satoru was someone you thought you'd only admire, but instead you found yourself entangled in his arms, in his embrace. Gojo had loved you just as much, he had to admit his ego was stroked a lot at first. However, he found himself breaking down the walls he built to shield his emotions for you. You were a strong and confident woman, he liked that. You were funny, honest, and reliable, he liked that. You were there for him during his highs and lows, he loved that. You both began dating at 20, and got married 3 years later at 23. Together, you moved in with him, fell into a daily routine, fought alongside one another, and gave happiness to each other. Everything was perfect, just right, despite Sukuna's revival. Everything was going to be alright, "I'm the strongest after all, you wouldn't doubt me would you?" Gojo said, smiling and proceeding to pull you into a tight hug, hammering you with kisses. You giggled a lot, fighting him off, "you goof!" you exclaimed laughing at his antics. It was a tough time, the appearance of Geto-- no Kenjaku. It was a horrid time, with Gojo being sealed. You held onto hope, it was just a delay. You remember the insane pressure that was lifted off your shoulders, your entire being, and most importantly your heart we Gojo was unsealed. The tears that fell as you saw him again. He was emotional too, you could tell, as he gave you the tightest squeeze you'd ever felt. It was like he didn't want to let you go, and you didn't want him to either, you just wanted time to freeze. You falsely believed everything would go back to normal. As you kissed him in a mist of chaos with pure love. How cruel the world is then, for nothing went back to the way it was. You watched as your friends died, and even after Gojo's return comrades still continued to die. One by one they all went, and then, he went. Your one true love, your light, your world, had been taken out by Sukuna. Sukuna Ryomen, you despised him, and now hated him with all of your existence. You were helping secure pedestrians and clear the perimeter of curses near the main battle. It seemed that most curses and people avoided the area though, and so you decided to approach. Maybe I can help him? Was what you had thought. Instead you came just in time to witness his downfall. Others say it was the death of Gojo Satoru, strongest wizard to arrive on Earth, the worlds doom, but you just saw him as Satoru. Your Toru, your love, your man, the one you saw a future with, who was practically all you had left. Love makes people blind, lose common sense, and in this case it's true. You didn't think before your legs began moving, rushing, purpling you towards him. You quickly knelt beside his upper body, in a state of panic, mouthing to yourself "no no no no-- Satoru please no," as you cupped his face with your hands. Tears fell from your eyes as you frantically tried to blink them away. You had a feeling he was still able to get a glimpse of you before he passed. His smile was somewhat comforting but he wasn't there anymore, you wept on his chest. Your hand reached down, and your fingers intertwined with his as you screamed your pain out. You did so for minutes, giving him kisses, praying that it was a joke he was pulling, and squeezing his hand. But that didn't last long, because you were pulled back to reality.

"Stop crying," Sukuna stated, as he towered above you in his true form. You hadn't even realized he'd gotten so close, or the fact he'd transformed, too caught up in your despair. You glare up at him in defiance, tears still coursing down your face. It was useless though, you knew, you weren't positioned to quickly remove yourself from the situation, and you didn't want to abandon Gojo either. Even if you did Sukuna could simply grasp you by your ankle and prevent you from running. His presence was terrifying, your tears began to dry up, now replaced with spots of sweat as you stayed still. Sukuna grinned down at you, one of his hands roughly gripping your left hip holding you down. He was significantly larger than you. "Don't touch me," you shouted, your hands moving to pry his off. Sukuna softly chuckled, his other hand snapping itself around your neck cutting off air. You let out a gasp and begin squirming, "I love people who put up a good fight, your husband definitely did, ah yes, your deceased husband," he emphasized. You couldn't help the way your blood boiled at his mocking words, your mouth opening to retaliate, only to gasp for air as he let you go. You dropped to your hands and knees taking in air desperately, "leave--hah--us--hah--be," you gulped. "You already defeated him," you stated, your hand going to feel your neck, no doubt there was Sukuna's hand mark. Sukuna laughs, a guttural laugh, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He grasps your chin lifting your gaze towards him. "He deserves a proper burial, yes, I'll make it fancy and spectacular, nothing short of perfect.." he spoke to you, eyes drifting temporarily towards Gojos lifeless form. "After all it is the least I can do, since I'll be taking you," he finishes now looking back down at you. His eyes are different, there is something sinister behind them, you don't want to know. Whatever it is, lust, enjoyment, or evil. You find yourself unable to breath, the truth now sinking in, your future oh so grim. You quickly sent a punch towards his stomach, attempting to jump backwards while in your shock. Only for his hands to clasp your body again, he was much faster than you were. This time one of his hands covered your eyes as his other two pulled you into a hug with him. Despite being blinded you could practically feel his cursed energy and smug smirk radiating. You were disgusted as Sukuna lowered his head to the crook of your neck taking in a whiff of your scent. "Mmh, you've always smelled good, you know how much I wanted you while in that other brats body?" he asks. Well, he doesn't really, because he answers his question, "and now you've got nowhere to run, hm, is that not right little human?" he says in a low hushed tone. You grit your teeth at the thought of not just Gojo, but Yuji and Megumi. Sukuna proceeds to lick a stripe up your neck, predatory, as he chuckles softly at the way you shiver.

Then you're knocked out. In the blink of an eye, you only find yourself later in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unknown people. Now known as the stolen lover and current wife of Sukuna Ryomen.

Back to it, with angst. Sorry y'all. 🥹

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #anime #angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk/reader #sukuna/reader #gojo/reader

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fairy-angel222 · 2 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

He’s so cocky at first, smirking when you bottom down on his length. “Think you can handle it baby? Take your time if you need to kay? I know it might be too much f’ you.” He chuckles.

You raise a brow in amusement. “Oh i can handle it baby, can you?” Was what you’d first said. And that question hadn’t changed since.

His lips parted in breathy groans and heavy breathing as his hands find your waist. Lips red and swollen from biting them as his eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly. “F-fuck baby.. you’re— shit, going so f-fast. Wanna slow d-down hmm?”

You smile widely, back arching as you lean down to kiss his jaw softly. Giving a false hum in thought. “Mmm.. you can take it.” He lets out the most cry like moan, head falling back into his pillow as his hips jerk upwards. Body trembling lightly when his eyes met yours.

“Shit— please baby. You d-don’t know how fucking- haah.. how fucking tight she’s grippin’ me right now.” He was referring to the way your snug walls stroked up and down his length with every harsh bounce of your hips. “I’m gonna— o-oh fuck, gonna cum again.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the crack in his voice. Your head tilted to the side as you coo teasingly. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy n cum f’ me baby?”

He chuckles shakily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as his cock twitches inside you. “God i fucking love you— ahh, even when you’re milking my cock like you hate m-me.” His senses were heightened, ears picking up the every squelch on your sopping pussy and his cock feeling every ridge of your gummy walls.

He lost it when you began rolling your hips sensually. Your thighs sticking to his at the mere amount of slick that joined you two. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his girth, turning your skilled movements sloppy as you rut your hips.

You brought a hand to his face, using your nail to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “C’ mon.. let it all out.” You smiled sweetly, eyes holding a dark glint when his eyes turn teary. Small beads of water pooling at his lids before he’s crying out your name.

Overly sensitive cock aching as he spills yet another load into you. Pumping the thick white substance till you’re pumped full. The rest of the substance spurting back onto him at the lack of space.

You let out a moan, “Wow baby- there’s so much. Might.. might just be your biggest load yet.” You were getting tired, but you’d never let him know that. You swear you hear him whimper when you capture his lips with yours slowly beginning to rock your hips again.

“Shit— don’t think- d-don’t think i can give you any more baby. Feels like my cock’s gonna f-fall off.” He panted, trying to keep himself together when he felt you jerking him off with your smug walls again. A small tremble raking through his body each time your ass landed back down.

His hand left your waist to cover his reddening face. Unable to hide the cherry shade of his ears and neck as he whimpered yet again. Choking out a string of moans with tears staining his cheeks when you shush him gently, “‘S only one more baby, give me one more.”

You were the only one with the ability to truly break Satoru if you tried.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut

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gojorgeous · 3 months

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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stillalittlelostngl · 1 year

Text

Academic Rivals to Lovers(ish) - Gojo/Reader HCs

Inspired by the below tweet - didn't mention reader crying here but ya that probably ended up happening at some point lol. Are these HCs or just the outline of a story? Is there really a difference?

Also - I only had one lab in college that I always skipped so idk how those things go down and i only have the stories my friends would tell me to go off of. so there's that disclaimer. Also gojo is kinda classist

Being a first gen college student meant that you probably took your just a tad more seriously than your peers. You had your family counting on you to do well after all - for as long as you could remember your family had stressed the importance of academic success. They had been obsessed with the idea of you being the first in the family of blue collar working class folk to get into university and become a doctor or a lawyer or some paper pusher in an office. Hell they didn’t even complain when you said you might be interested in majoring in studio art or theater. They didn’t particularly care what you decided to study when you got there - they were just concerned with you getting in and doing well in whatever you studied. You didn’t entirely understand their insistence but it meant a lot to them and so it meant a lot to you by extension and you’d do your best to make them proud.

You first noticed Gojo at orientation. You hadn’t learned much about him outside of him being some spoiled legacy student who had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a family who had sent him to the best boarding schools money could buy. The jealousy had stung ngl - how was it fair that everything in life was handed to him while you and your parents were working double shifts to pay your tuition because the scholarships would never cover as much as the university was asking for

You didn’t think much of him. He came off as a loud and haughty air head and you just didn’t have time to entertain that sorta thing.

Truthfully Gojo probably doesn’t even remember this first meeting - your face blended in with the rest of the incoming freshman class so easily and he’d never seen or heard your name before in his circle so you must not have been all that important

Ultimately you decided to major in a pretty competitive field. The upperclassmen had told you horror stories about students fighting over internships and jobs in the labs, trying to sabotage each other's grades, cheating, etc. etc. It was a dog eat dog world you were entering but you had faith you could survive 4 years. They’d be over and done before you noticed.

Boy had you been wrong. The upperclassmen had been very tame with their description of what the next few years of your life would look like tbh. Countless sleepless nights filled with study sessions, researching and writing essays along with the cattiness of the student body that was constantly at each other’s throats and kissing professors’ asses to try and get ahead. You had put a target on your back after the first test was handed back - your peers had been pissed because by getting a perfect score on the test the teacher decided to not curve it. The one who seemed the most annoyed by this had been Gojo and he never let you forget it.

Honestly Gojo was pissed that someone was better than him at something - even if it was just one test during his first semester of uni. He was used to being on top and to be bested by someone like you left a sour taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t understand how you did it. Half the stuff on that test hadn’t even been discussed in class - this teacher was notorious for being difficult and not that good of a teacher so the class always relied on there being a curve. When he got his piss poor grade back he had been furious. It wasn’t as bad as some of his other classmates but it wasn’t the best. When he learned it was your fault he had that grade he became a man obsessed.

He had begun asking others about you that day and learned everything he could. Your background, your schedule, your study habits, what dorm you stayed in - he wanted to know all of it in hopes of cracking the code of how you bested him.

When he still couldn’t figure it out he tried approaching you - maybe you had an older student give you answers to all the tests for that class and perhaps you’d be generous enough to share.

“Oh well something the professor said during the lecture got me thinking so I kinda fell down a google rabbit hole to see what I could find. Just got lucky that it was on the test i guess”

And Gojo was pissed. Of course it had just been luck that allowed you to get the better of him. He wanted to laugh at himself for ever thinking differently. When you grades continued to go head to head with his each time assignments and tests came back he had to accept that maybe it wasn’t just luck

The two of you became a source of entertainment to your classmates. They would make bets on which one of you would score higher. Gojo would do nothing but encourage it. Anytime he managed to get the top score he’d make sure to shoot you an irritating smirk and offer some faux condolences with a “maybe next time”. It never failed to get under your skin.

It was like everything he did was to try and annoy you. Hell even his appearance was enough to piss you off. Of course he's the type to wear sunglasses indoors - what a pretentious asshole. You usually didn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he bothered you but your friends would sure hear an earful of whatever it did that got you wound up on any given day.

When the both of you had been paired as lab partners you were convinced you must've pissed off some deity in a past life or something. You couldn't imagine a worse fate than having to sit next to him for at least an hour every week. The lab required cooperation and while initially you had tried to spearhead the whole operation Gojo wasn’t about to take that sitting down.

It all came to a head one day when he was trying to tell you what you were doing wrong for an experiment (you weren’t doing anything wrong tbh he just wanted to see you get worked up)

“Look, if you have such an issue with me I can just ask the professor to assign us different partners. I’m not going to keep going back and forth with you like this.”

“I don’t have an issue with you - who said I had an issue with you?”

“Please, since day one you judged me and have been acting like I’m too stupid to be here - you think I don’t hear what you and your little friends have been saying?”

Gojo wanted to deny it but knew you were right on the money. After that first test came back he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he said some…less than savory things about you to his friends and a few others who had been hanging around them. He knew folks talked but hadn’t expected it to get back to you. He isn’t sure why it felt like his stomach dropped when he found out you knew though.

“Despite all your efforts to look down on me from your little pedestal I’m still doing just as good as you are. You being an asshole isn’t going to change that.”

You left shortly after - uncaring if it meant you’d do poorly on the graded lab but you couldn’t stand to be there around him anymore. He could have this win if it meant you wouldn’t have to be stuck in his presence for a moment longer.

Gojo’s a pretty out of touch guy so you confronting him kinda sparked some introspection on his end (or about as much introspection as he’s capable of). The following days had him acting differently - a bit quieter than normal and he would discourage classmates from making bets or egging you on with the little competition the two of you had going. You almost felt bad - maybe calling him an asshole was taking it too far? It’s not like you hadn’t spoken shit about him to your friends either after all.

You were dreading the next lab. In all your other classes you could avoid him and sit on opposite sides of the lecture hall. The lab would have you forced to interact for at least 60 minutes and you could only imagine how awful that was going to go.

You were surprised when he started the lab off with an apology - in the few years you had somewhat known him you’d never known him to be one to apologize to anyone and you’d never dream he’d be apologizing to you of all people.

He doesn’t go into heavy detail any you don’t ask him to but you learn that he’s also under a lot of pressure from his family. Everyone in his immediate and extended family have gone on to do great things and his family is constantly pressing him to do even better than they did - he got caught up and ended up taking his frustration out on you.

You find yourself apologizing too. You had been judgemental of him from the start too and played into the competition more than you’d like to admit.

The lab had gone on pretty smoothly after that - you two were one of the first groups done since you weren’t bickering between each other. As you were packing up to leave Gojo asked if you’d like to study with him sometime for an upcoming final. You were a bit nervous about it but accepted anyways, excited that the two of you were turning over a new leaf and wondering where exactly this would go

______

in thee nsfw version y'all fucked in the study room like the depraved folks y'all are idk

138 notes · View notes

valleydoli · 2 months

Text

𐙚 jjk men nsfw twitter links 𐙚

𐙚 nanami kento

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

𐙚 fushiguro toji

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

𐙚 sukuna ryomēn

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

𐙚 getou suguru

one two three four five six seven ft gojo eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen

𐙚 gojo satoru

one ft geto two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen

𐙚 kamo choso

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen

𐙚 enjoy! 𐙚

19K notes · View notes

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