#im thinking about satoru 'six eyes' gojo
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the sole reason I wanna watch top gun is cuz of the aot and jjk fanart this artist posted i-
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(18+, minors/blank accounts dni)
jealous ex husband gojo who just can't keep stand seeing you with someone else. he hates that you gave up on him, hates that you don't wear your ring anymore even though he does and he wears it proudly.
"you have a date tonight, the girls tell me." busted. you cringe and eye you little daughters, only six the both of them but you told them to keep quiet about the situation.
"yes..." you reply, anxiously awaiting his response.
you could just picture his face now, nose a bit flared and lips pursed. with clenched teeth he said, "alright, have fun." but it wasn't that simple.
he always kept close watch on you and it made you nervous with how simple it left the conversation. "well, i could come pick the girls up before then. about 8-ish?" he asks and you say yes before hanging up.
gojo was always too busy which was what led to the divorce. you'd both married young, 20 and stayed together since but when the girls turned 3 you had enough and just left. he wasn't being there enough for you or the girls and it hurt.
when he pulled up you cursed yourself for getting ready so early. your hair in long curls and a knee length skirt with a small slit on the left leg. he didn't bothering knocking or waiting for you to open the door, he had keys and you knew this so you continued with your makeup.
he was standing there watching you but you ignored him. or tried to but he walked closer and closer until he was right in your face. "how beautiful, you are." he held your jaw and forced you to look at him.
"why don't you ditch this date and come with me?" he asked, bringing your lower reign to his. "don't you miss me baby?" he nipped at your skin and the memories and feelings were coming back.
you had to be strong. you swallowed and pulled his back from you. "you have to stop this, im sure you have someone out there satoru, but she isn't me." you tried to walk off but he grabbed your wrist and brought you to your bedroom.
"y/n, so you think anyone can make you feel as good as i make you feel? don't you know i love you? my feelings never left and i know yours haven't." he rubs you through your panties and kisses you on your lips.
"everything can be different now." he promises, easing his way between your legs. his heavy cock entering you slowly, it was only the tip so far but it was splitting you open. you'd been without sex for two years and now tears were in your eyes.
"you think he can fill you up like me?" he adjusts himself and enters more of his cock into you. he was still so big, you were choking. you could feel him in your tummy and in your throat.
"you're always going to be mine, so stop running." he told you as he jerked his hips. "stop trying to let this go baby?"
"satoru—"
"mommy! the door!" one of the girls yelled.
"shh," satoru brought a finger to your lips and leaned forward to make love to your mouth. it was too much and you both were drooling after just a few minutes, he pulled himself out of you and looked at his wet cock.
"think about what i said." it was hard to forget. you clenched your legs together after you cleaned yourself up, not even wanting to face your date.
not even wanting to face your ex-husband either.
#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#ramonaᝰ#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen thirst#jjk thirsts#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x you
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Gojo having a baby girl is literally driving me insane like how is that man a father HES THE BABY 😭
this is so true.
i know that man is pouting for the baby’s first year at least because, well, simply put—she’s taking all of his attention.
she’s the one who gets to sleep on you every day and night, she’s the one you’re making silly noises at, and she’s the one who you’re cooing over when satoru is standing there being as cute as he can possibly be!
is it so wrong to be jealous of his own daughter?
and yeah yeah, whatever. he knows that she’s a baby and she needs more codling than a (so called) adult man does, but still. he made her, shouldn’t she be on his side?
so he sits in the rocking chair while you put her in her crib, being careful not to wrap her too tight in the blankets. he’s watching you smile at her and basically fawn over a lump of flesh (yes, she is adorable, but that’s not the point).
seriously, she can’t even speak to you. she can’t tell you how beautifully you’re adapting to your newborn lifestyle, or how pretty you look with spit up on your shirt.
guess who can though? satoru.
not that you care, apparently.
so if he’s crossing his arms and frowning while he watches you be perfect for someone else, sue him.
“are you pouting again?”
“i’m not pouting.”
you finally look over to satoru, tilting your head. “you’ve got wrinkles from frowning so much.”
“what? no i don’t.”
you smile at him and walk over, immediately easing into the hands that wrap around your waist. even this close, satoru is still look at you begrudgingly. resentfully.
“are you seriously jealous of your own daughter?”
“i didn’t realize that you’d completely forget about me once she was born.”
“i haven’t—“
“am i just a pretty face to you? something nice to look at when you come home?”
you scoff. “okay, first of all, if anyone has a pretty face around here, it’s her—“
“this is what i’m talking about—“
“and second of all, yes. we’ve talked about this. you’re just my eye candy.”
he frowns. “your eye candy deserves more attention.”
“my eye candy is being awfully needy.”
“your eye candy misses you.”
you smile again, leaning against him. satoru tightens his hands around you, nuzzling his face into your stomach. you run a hand through his hair. “i miss you too”
“no you don’t,” he mumbles into your shirt.”
“i do!” you laugh, pulling on his hair so he’ll look at you. “but as long as you’re right here with me, i’m okay.”
“you’re just okay?” he asks, despairingly.
“having you here is enough for me, satoru.”
he groans, falling back into your skin.
you coo at him softly, giving him a makeshift hug.
“you’ve got a new baby,” he whispers, “i’m outdated.”
you snort. “you’ve always been outdated.”
satoru lifts his head up, pouting once again. “that’s mean.”
“sorry, baby,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “i’ll check my schedule, see if i can pencil you in somewhere.”
“really?”
“i think im free in about… mmm, three to six months.”
he groans again.
“hey,” you whisper, trailing a finger down his perfect face.
“what?”
“i love you.”
he meets your eyes, and his lips twitch, knowing and just as fond. “are you sure?”
“are you jealous?” you retort.
he sighs. “i guess i can’t really blame you. she is cute.”
you turn in his arms, looking towards the crib once again. “isn’t she?”
and maybe satoru is a little bit jealous. but he’ll get over it. because, honestly, the tiny bundle in that crib is going to grow up—but he’ll always be your baby.
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#a typical family#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jjk x reader
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Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(
but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!
Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.
about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(
warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.
you’re pissed.
over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you.
he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then.
you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.
because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.
“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him.
for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need.
you feel what satoru can’t.
“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.”
everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist.
and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be.
and he’s practically a god.
“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped.
once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below.
leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.”
in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.”
that makes satoru falter.
it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.
and humans don’t last as long as gods do.
seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you.
he is weak for you.
his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start.
“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”
you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him.
it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes.
he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips.
exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry.
“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.”
“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”
“i said turn it back on, gojo.”
“look at me, please.”
“gojo.”
“please.”
your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.
“i love you.”
if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live.
but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore.
you would much rather have him kill you instead.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojo angst#jjk x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk angst#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#LOL im sorry this is… horrible#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification#✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger#ʚ 🍓 anon’ ɞ#angelshubnetwork
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HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2
⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in this part.
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.
⊹ wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART ONE.
⊹ a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.
⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is not—a fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
⊹ PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS.
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white.
Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and there’s frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it.
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago.
Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. It’s starting to feel comedic. It’s so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting.
Gojo feels like he’s waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. There’s something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he’s latched onto you this way.
There’s nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he can’t break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesn’t know why either. There’s not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasn’t examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that he’s lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God.
The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he can’t see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy.
When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much.
The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesn’t think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesn’t think he should have too.
Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?
Gojo doesn’t want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure you’re alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?
It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens who’ve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but he’s not God.
No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers can’t stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.
Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. It’s only then you’ll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. It’s what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily.
Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojo’s feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if it’s a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true.
He doesn’t want you to hate him. He’s your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that you’re his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely.
He needs you. He needs you. He needs you.
Snow is falling.
__
Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door.
He’s usually sleeping in on the weekends, so he’s startled by it. School doesn’t start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi would’ve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. He’s dressed in his P.J.’s with his hair messy and mind jumbled.
He’s not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. You’ve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo can’t decipher.
“Oh,” He says after registering who he’s talking to you “What’re you doing here so early?”
You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.
“A pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they won’t be here for a while and.” You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion “I need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus there’s work,”
Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up.
“Hey, calm down,” He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head “I’m here. It’s okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?”
You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself.
“Would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?”
If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.
“Hm,” He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. He’s memorized all your tells by heart “Well, there’s no reason not to, right? You’ll have to sleep in my bed though.”
He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction.
“Oh, uhm, then,”
He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back.
“Just kidding! Of course you can stay with me. I’ll take the couch for a few days so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.”
You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares.
“What?” You ask when you notice. He shakes his head.
“It’s cute when you get nervous,” He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands.
“You’re so mean,” You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest “I was really freaking out just now,”
“I know, I know - but it’s kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe it’s cause I’m sleepy,”
“You're wide awake right now!” You point out. He snorts.
“Noo, what? I’m half-asleep right now,”
“Gojo,” You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body “Let me in? Please?”
“Try Satoru. Sa-to-ru,” He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face.
“Satoru,” You say, hardly getting the syllables out “L-let me in,”
He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens.
“Good girl,” He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you “Come on in!”
Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well he’s been doing to make sure he’s acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesn’t think it’s time yet. You’re still skittish.
Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up.
“Don’t be so stiff,” He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning “My home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?”
“Could I borrow your shower?”
Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things - sharp and sinful.
“I was gonna shower this morning but, y’know.” You gesture vaguely. He’s quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.
“Pretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,” He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though he’s certain he’s missing something “Oh, and I’ll give you some clothes,”
You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse.
“Don’t say no,” He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease. Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun “Let me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,”
“That’s a bad joke,” You say, throat thick.
You want to trust him don’t you? He wants to praise you for that.
“Aw, c’mon. It’s lonely. Let me indulge a little,” He begs with enough lightheartedness that you don’t run away.
“Geez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,” You try and joke back, though it’s stilted and awkward. He can tell you’re getting prepared to squeeze to the bathroom before the conversation is too much.
“Old ladies do love me,” He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly.
“Stupid.”
He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.
“Is there anything else that you need while you’re in there?”
“I don’t think so,” You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on.
When the water rushes, he follows you.
He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than it’s supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear what’s going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him.
For someone like you, it’s probably impossible.
It’s knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5 minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. He’s pleased with that.
You trust him, or you try too.
When he feels certain you’re relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but it’s noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you.
He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for.
Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until he’s sure he overstayed his welcome.
He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it.
The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room.
He sits on his couch when he’s back. The sun hasn’t come up yet and he’s only turned on a single lamp for light. It’s hard for him to describe how he’s feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasn’t caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding.
He’s been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.
But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now must’ve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. He’s naive in thinking you're different. He’s the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.
It’s only now and in such circumstances does he think that you’re the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy he’s ever had - it’s both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesn’t want you to hate him. Not necessarily.
But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks it’ll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as it’s yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that it’s yours. That he’s yours.
Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojo’s never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin.
But like anything he does though, he can’t take the easy way out. There’s a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, there’s things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that he’ll do his best to make that reality happen.
The thought settles in his body and suddenly he’s present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? He’s not a skilled cook but he’s pretty good at making those.
At the very least, he thinks you’ll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry.
He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if it’s temporary. He’s giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body.
He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he can’t remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge.
Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. It’s not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesn’t cook for himself often in the first place, so he’s never thought to complain about it or get it changed.
Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. It’s not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.
( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, it’ll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - it’ll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. It’s best to keep the heat even. It’s best to fix it sometime soon. )
The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth.
He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm.
Too much heat, and you’ll jump to save yourself.
Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking. It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.
You’re wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long it’ll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. There’s a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you.
“Morning,” He says. You giggle a little.
“Morning. Are you making breakfast?”
“Yes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,” He puffs his chest up “Pretty good, I’m told.”
You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway
“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,”
“The audacity,” He says, full of theatrics “I’ll knock your socks off,”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That he’ll have all of you and soon “Can I help with anything?”
“Get started on some coffee maybe,”
You nod your head and yawn.
“Sounds good to me,”
__
You decide to stay for a week.
More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a week. That’s how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.
But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and there’s no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and it’s not like you can’t board with a friend for a few days right?
But won’t that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesn’t mind at all. It’s like having a week-long sleep-over.
I don’t have the stuff I need. That’s fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure.
Are you sure? Of course he’s sure. More than sure. You’re doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. What’s sleeping in the same room when we’re neighbors?
Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. You’re weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on.
(He’d be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. It’s a good thing it’s only Gojo who knows.)
The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. There’s no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch.
(He doesn’t make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - it’s hard for him to stave it off. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when you’re embarrassed and spills into his hand.
Eventually, he’ll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because you’re naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you don’t stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. )
On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. You’re not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently).
(“I have a surprise for you!” Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. You’ve returned from your shower, on your last pair of PJ’s. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package.
“For me?” You ask. Gojo nods, grinning.
“For you,” He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room.
The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.
But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it.
“...Clothes?” You repeat.
“Surprise!” He says with his usual silly cadence “For you, free of charge.”
A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what you’ll do. What you’re thinking, it’s a shame Gojo can’t read your mind.
“How’d you know my size?” You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs.
“Guessed. We’ve spent enough time together,” He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you don’t quite believe him. But there’s not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. It’s not a sound he dislikes.
He’s been good to you. He’s just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesn’t hate it even though he knows where it comes from.
The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically.
“This is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?” You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it.
“Mm, dunno. Just whatever I thought you’d need.”
“I’m only here for a week, Gojo.” You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.
“So? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I don’t know what women go through.” He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose.
“You’re so dumb. It’s too much stuff,”
“I already bought it and I don’t feel like returning it,” He tells you, making it clear he’s not going to negotiate “Just think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.”
You snort.
“You even have the hair,” You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile “Still. I feel like I’m really indebted to you, lately.”
“Yeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.”
“I don’t remember Santa doing favors for people,” You quip. Gojo laughs.
“Change in management,”
You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again.
“Well. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?”
“Take your time,” Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall “I need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and I’ll take it out tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.”
“Yeah. See you” )
If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, you’re smart enough not to say anything.
The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but he’s content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and he’s careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows you’re asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires.
On the fourth day, he doesn’t have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but there’s a method to this - he has to remind himself.
Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you can’t feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if you’re wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you can’t feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why you’re wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that he’s interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult.
On the fifth day, things proceed the same. There’s a routine you’ve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. There’s not really much to do - it’s a Friday. It’s the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task.
You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as he’s ever gotten in his life. Part of him isn’t sure why he does it. He thinks he’s seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him.
(“So, you’re the only person left in your clan?” You ask, half-way through a glass of tea he’s sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.
“Mhm. Technically, I’m the sole heir.” He replies.
“...Is it okay to ask what happened?”
Gojo laughs at you. You really can’t help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.
“It’s not a pretty story,” Gojo says honestly.
“That’s okay,” You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around.
“Most of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.”
“You included?” You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little.
“Once I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,” He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story “It took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.”
“You say that so easily,”
Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself.
“It was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.”
For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks you’re going to cry. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, it’s meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. It’s a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesn’t know what he’s like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasn’t known it since he was born.
It’s especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because he’s going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. He’s going to do it with purpose and conviction. He won’t feel remorseful about it at all.
There’s an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than he’s ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows he’ll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this.
He wonders how long you’ll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, there’s no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if it’s pointless. He doesn’t remember the last time someone did.
Maybe when he was 17.
“You look like you’re gonna cry.” He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasn’t been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle.
“How are you not crying?”
“I never cry.” Gojo says smoothly, not blinking “I’m a heartless bastard.”
“That’s not true.” You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. It’s cute, he must admit, that you’re so sure on his character “You’re not heartless,”
“But I am a bastard,” He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on that
“...You’re not heartless. Clearly.” You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much he’ll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums.
“Oho, you almost sound like you’re defending me.”
“From yourself, I guess. I know you’re not heartless,” You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. It’s a little shocking. It’s not usually how this goes “You’re…weird. But you care”
“That’s true,” Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. “More than that, I’m hung up on the idea of the future.”
“Isn’t it usually being hung-up on the past?”
“Right? Usually, that’d be the case,” Gojo says, unsure of what to express “But the past is the past. I can’t go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.”
You sound like the winds been knocked out of you “That’s terrifying,”
“It is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasn’t happened. But it can’t be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,” Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies “There’s a future I want to see. I’d like if my students could see it too,”
“Because of your friend, right?”
Gojo smiles.
“Because of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.”
“Like?” You ask, curious.
“I like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now it’s up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.”
You’re silent for a while, again.
“Seems lonely,” You say, simply. Easily. It’s true, and he knows that. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’ve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story.
Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He can’t bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word.
“You think so?” Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant “Does it make you wanna hug and console me?”
He offers it sarcastically, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. It’s almost enough to shake him. Almost.
“...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.” You say, too honestly.
“Jeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I can’t believe I’m the other woman,” He says, with a faux pout.
You laugh, though it’s laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and he’s almost willing to let you. That’s just the thing.
You see Gojo as human, still.
Gojo Satoru isn’t God. But he isn’t human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldn’t mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until it’s too late.
So, Gojo doesn’t think you need to comfort him how you’re thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that you’re owed to him.
Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesn’t want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont.
He turns the heat up gently. You’re none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. He’ll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you should’ve trusted your gut after all.
For now, he smiles at you.
“If it’s any consolation, I’d be very sad if you disappeared.” Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself.
“Me too,” You reply. Gojo knows he’s going to ruin you. “I’d be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, don’t, okay?”
And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - he’d tell you you’re the last person who should worry about missing him. That you’ll be seeing him for a long time.
But he’s neither, just like he’s not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his.
“Scouts honor,”
When he’s ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojo’s clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you.
“What was that?”
“You had a thread loose,” You say simply, unconcerned with anything “I just pulled it off.”
Gojo stares.
“Yeah. Thanks.”)
The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesn’t think there’s anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone.
Today is the 7th day.
On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You don’t have work today, so you do what you’ve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V.
Night falls on the 7th day.
Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. He’d set this in motion when the week started and now that it’s here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. There’s no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojo’s presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak.
Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than he’s had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him.
He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. You’re not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment he’s met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life.
And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. He’ll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. There’s a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy.
The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall.
Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.
Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed, so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. It’d be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo.
You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojo’s expression.
The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like he’s starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him.
Gojo’s presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words.
“What are you doing here?” You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought.
He knows he shouldn’t think it, but some part of him is vindicated. You’re leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, he’s vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him.
Then he talks, his voice tender.
“Getting my debts repaid,” And he means it, more than he’s ever meant anything he’s said “You owe me one, remember?”
It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. You’ll leave it here when you’re gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him.
“W-what are you…? What do you mean?”
He’s shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if you’ll do it. If you’ll run or if you’ll thrash or if you’ll fight. He’s not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and he’s curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this.
He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like you’re being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, it’s your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like you’re trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like you’ll be able to break free.
But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that you’re trying to escape him, he’s quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you.
You look so frightened.
“Wh-what are you..?”
“You owe me one for letting you stay here, right?” He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen “I’ll take this as compensation, okay? It’s a good deal for us both I think,”
“I don’t,” You squirm underneath him “I don’t—I,”
“Shh,” He quiets you, humming softly “Don’t overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,”
Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. What’d you do in these circumstances. If you’d act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming.
Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesn’t need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you.
“You can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,” Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you “It’s not gonna hurt me,”
You look like you’re at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin.
“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Gojo says after some thought “Is this your first time?”
You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo groans against your skin. You flinch.
“Fuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,” He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown.
“Didn’t say it was a bad thing you know,” Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of what’ll happen if you let g.o “We’re tied together like this. Isn’t that nice?”
“Gojo,” You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you can’t find the strength to say. You’re not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine “Please,”
“Not wearing a thing even though you’ve been sleeping at a man's house all week,” He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs “I’m not telling you off you know? I’m glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.”
“Gojo,” You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock.
“Satoru,” He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him “I’ll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,”
He doesn’t promise to stop, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks it’s worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath.
“S-Satoru,”
He gestures to take your shirt off. You’ve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head.
“That won’t do,” He coos at you softly “I wanna see you. All of you,”
You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are.
“So pretty,” He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater “So cute,”
“Satoru, please, I don’t—don’t want—”
“So ungrateful,” He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal “That’s the only request I can’t listen to,”
You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesn’t hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists.
“Don’t squirm too much, ‘kay? Stay like that. I’ll make you feel good.”
“I don’t,”
“Hey,” This time he’s stern, and you slink back into yourself. It’s the first time he’s had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last “What’d I say? You owe me this much, don’t you think? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. It’s not like I wanna do anything bad with you, y’know”
A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles.
“Good girl.” He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse “You learn quick.”
You keep your arms over your head like he’s asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him.
“So pretty,” He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth.
He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it.
He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you.
“First kiss?” He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space.
“Mm,” Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesn’t bother putting up a show. It’s easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient.
He takes his time now that you’re all naked. It’s thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. It’s only fair to give you something to look at while you���re departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly.
“Gonna be a little sore for a while,” He says warmly. You’ve hit the stage of grief where you’re angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back “Might as well enjoy yourself.”
Despair flashes in your expression.
“I mean it, you know.” He offers, stating it like he’s trying to appease you “You should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.”
It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. It’s good you’re starting to understand him a little better.
“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question.
“Ah, it’s a secret, so you can’t tell,” He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful “I like things that I can keep.”
A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound
It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air.
When he thinks you’re worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy.
You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs.
“You don’t wanna?” He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit “Are you sure?”
It’s torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. It’s your first time with something like this and he’s sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you don’t want it, your body can’t refuse him. You can’t either, try as you might. That’s why your legs are spread and why you’re practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently.
You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs.
“You need it here,” He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp “Need me to touch you here, hm?”
You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently.
“Be more honest.” He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it “What do you want?”
“Don’t, I don’t.” You say, or you try.
“Liar,” He snips playfully against your clavicle “Your pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?”
Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry.
“C’mon,” He encourages meanly “Tell me what you really want.”
It’s a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you.
“P-please,” You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When you’re thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him “Please.”
So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be.
“Please what, hm? What are you asking for?”
You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojo’s. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. It’s titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.
Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless little heart to beg for his mercy this once. You’ll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this.
Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist.
You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin.
“So cute when you give up.” Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your “Be good and be honest. I’ll reward you, hm? How’s that?”
Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself. A sound like you’re in pain even though you’re not hurt.
“Please touch me.” You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince.
“Good girl.” He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit “That’s all you had to do. Easy, right?”
You scowl at him (you try too).
“Open your legs, baby,”
You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like you’ll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until you’re disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like you’re begging. Gojo doesn’t stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank.
Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like you’re spitting them out because they fill your mouth too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojo’s hard to hold.
He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. You’re wet enough he doesn’t need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you.
Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. He’s being kind, and you’ll realize it later - when you’ve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didn’t think it’d ruin the set-up, he’d have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip.
It’s all he can picture, but he shows restraint. He’ll fuck himself off on you when you’re sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then.
He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle.
When he thinks you’re adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his name
“Oh, Satoru, its.”
He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until he’s all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till it’s easy, till you’re wanting more.
If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - he’d stop here. He doesn’t though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again.
“Easy, easy,” He coos, voice coarse but encouraging “It’s a good exercise for the future.”
You don’t register the words and Gojo doesn’t expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice.
Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like he’s motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it.
He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows he’s getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell you’re feeling it, just as much as you’re resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin.
“C’mon,” He hums, nudging his nose to your neck “You wanna cum don’t you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.”
You whimper “Aah, aah,” Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. He’s doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until you’re no longer able to put on a show of being composed.
“S-sato—oh, please, oh—please m-make me,”
“Want me to making you cum? Say it. Say, ‘Satoru, please make me cum,’ can you do that?”
A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo can’t think straight. It strains you.
“S-satoru, pleasemakemecum—please.”
Gojo grins. “Of course I can,” He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again “All you had to do was ask me.”
He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he can’t decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything.
He feels giddy to the point he’s sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark.
“Don’t hate me too much, kay,” Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now “Come on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.”
And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like you’ve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and you’re squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJ’s with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasure’s vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper.
Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you don’t pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere.
He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until you’re deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isn’t wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. .
When he stands to his feet, it’s to collect the curse that’s gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse you’ve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed.
It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojo’s arm. It doesn’t take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake.
“Better warm up to me,” He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words “You won’t be seeing your mama for a while,”
—
Communication stills.
Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened.
He mostly does this because he wants to see what you’ll do.
You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but don’t taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch.
Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amused—that you remind him a lot of himself.
He thinks you’re a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - he’ll tell you all about it. You get it now right? It’s painful to feel like you can never be the same.
They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes he’s made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though you’re both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.
What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, you’ll return to your usual spitfire. He’s counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back.
But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isn’t looking for your obedience, really. You’re too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks it’d be pointless if you’d just stayed the same.
You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesn’t plan to rob you of it. He figures it’s best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But it’s better if you’re able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take.
Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe you’ll be clever enough to recognize that it’s not that you’re succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. You’re definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that there’s hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc.
Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it.
It’d be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you can’t sense him or that he’s gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go.
Feeding the curse you’ve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. It’s obedient to him since he’s strong, and it’s big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because it’s from you), more hostile. He’s been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown.
It’s currently on Gojo’s floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. It’s just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.
He’s been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasn’t such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But that’s fine. The means don’t matter as much as the ends and in doing so - he’s made this all sort of seamless.
It’s not a complicated plan, ultimately. He’ll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - you’ll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when you’re finally caught in his arms, you’ll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. He’ll reprimand you (but only lightly) and you’ll thrash (but only for a little while) and then he’ll keep you by his side again.
Except this time he won’t be so quick to let go. He’s sure you’ll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). He’ll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, he’s thought of a way to reply.
A way to tend to it.
Like any relationship, things take time. He’s not expecting this to settle right away - but he’s confident eventually it’ll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as you’re within view.
He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. You’re dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned.
A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit.
The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet.
“Calm down or I’ll exercise you right away,” Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. “I’m getting impatient, too, you know? It’s been a long time.” He says wistfully.
He keeps looking until you’ve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before you’ve gone in - sound by a dull thump.
He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process.
But he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. He’d much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that he’d been thinking about again for weeks.
He supposes there’s no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground he’s been spending too long looking for.
He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes.
“Today seems like it’s too soon yet too far,” Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully “But it should be okay, right?”
__
At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table.
The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out.
There’s a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. It’s unfortunate he can’t monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojo’s word.
So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if you’ll scream. You didn’t when he thought you should’ve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now.
The clock ticks away. It’s unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and he’ll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways.
The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and it’s not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didn’t have such a pressing matter to attend to, he’d go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful.
Gojo can’t abandon his task. It’s too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesn’t even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing)
At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. It’s still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he can’t name. It’s just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately it’s still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when it’s warm even if it’s just an illusion.
The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado that’s riveting. There’s a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious.
At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures he’s not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. There’s timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. He’s sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow.
The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before.
At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. He’s pleased with it so far. It’s proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard.
He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment.
When Gojo has had enough of waiting, it’s 7:15 sharp.
He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy.
You’re right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like it’s dead.
He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and there’s some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass.
If you were any more familiar with this world, you’d know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojo’s presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then you’d know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojo’s name when you hate it so much now would be pointless.
But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark.
So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but it’s locked, so he teleports.
When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures you’re cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you.
Your house is effectively thrashed like there’s been a robbery. He’ll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they won’t question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded.
(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even he’s not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. He’s sure you’ll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.)
He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines he’s practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent.
He’s sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life.
He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction.
At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like he’s only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. He’s never been in your room. Kind of a waste it’s happening like this.
The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out.
It wasn’t enough to break you a little. This part is necessary.
Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, Satoru.” Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach “Oh, it’s—Oh it’s you.”
“Happy to see me, huh?” He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying.
“H-how’d you…?”
“I can feel cursed energy,” He says, and it’s not untrue “I felt something very strange in your apartment. It’s been a while.”
You still can’t find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent.
“Yeah.” You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.
“Hey, you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”
You stare at Gojo for a long time.
“I’m not hurt but,” You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. He’ll let you rest for a while when you’re home “I’m s-scared.”
“You’re right to be scared,” Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general “It’s a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.”
You look agape as he relays this to you.
“Share…?”
Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesn’t falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside.
“It was made with your cursed energy,” Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief “Curses are negative emotions. So something like this isn’t uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But that’s all your.”
He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like you’re ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesn’t condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee.
“I told you didn’t I,” Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought “You have to be careful. And you can’t fight all by yourself, so you’re kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasn’t around?”
You look like you’re going to cry. Gojo keeps going.
“You can’t call the police, you know. They can’t help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.” Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him “But you can rely on me if you need to. I’ll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?”
It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. It’s exactly what he wanted. An understanding he’d be hoping for for so long it’s unbelievable.
“I’m the only one who can keep you safe, understand?” But he’s not really asking. You know that too “Can you nod your head and agree?” He pricks. You don’t hold back your tears but you don’t cry them either. You break down silently nd you nod.
Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you.
“Don’t be so sad,” He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isn’t it? “I’ll protect you now.”
Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings.
Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges.
It’s really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he might’ve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but he’s mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesn’t disturb the neighbors.
It’s as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in it’s every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.
It doesn’t go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together.
But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like you’re trying to measure how strong he is. It’s a smart thing to do. You’re learning. It’s probably better to show you now, since there’s not much left to hide.
So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared.
Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.
He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space he’s created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. It’s gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it can’t have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off.
It’s gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment.
Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you.
“Don’t know how long it’ll be gone but,” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine “But it’s gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.”
This is all a formality. He’s sure you know too, but instead of turning away - you’re shivering figure wavers in the dark. You’re terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know what’s coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isn’t anything you can do.
And it’s just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you.
“Come on,” He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you don’t do so much as protest “Let’s go home.”
__
Gojo brings you home quietly.
When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long you’ve been crying and about what in particular - but that’s okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly.
It’s a good night, he thinks. Even in the state you’re in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. You’re an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you might’ve really fallen apart.
It’s reasonable enough. For someone like you, he’s sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better.
He can’t describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this.
All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojo’s forever, permanently through everything. He’s made you so completely in his image, something he’s always wanted to do. Maybe you’re a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What he’s capable of creating with enough effort.
Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom.
Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojo’s bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. You’re weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly.
Regardless of everything that’s transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you don’t pull away. Now you’re so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time it’s perfect. It’s everything he’s always imagined.
He’ll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, you’ll come to realize you’ll always need him a little. And it doesn’t matter, does it? That he’s made it that way on his own. Because it’s true. It’s righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens.
He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin.
“Still feel like crying?” He asks you. You blink up at him like you’re only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly.
“That’s good,” He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesn’t dislike it “You didn’t get hurt did you? And now we’re together again.”
This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you don’t look like you have the energy to cry. He doesn’t push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you.
“Scary world out there, y’know?” Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely “Hold onto me okay? I’ll make it all better.”
You whimper under your voice but don’t go to thrash. There’s something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as it’s you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he can’t help himself but kiss you. Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.
He kisses you for longer than necessary. It’s intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you don’t do anything to refuse it.
So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting.
He rests his hands on your waist and you don’t pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. It’s making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He can’t get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He can’t help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit.
Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him.
From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends.
This is a lesson in divine truth.
You’ve made Gojo this way as much as he’s made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. It’s cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens.
Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed.
This is a lesson in divine truth.
More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. He’s made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning.
You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him and your disposition will never allow you. You’ll hate and resent him. You’ll grieve and you’ll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?
Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you.
“My birthday passed recently,” He tells you. You blink at him.
“Oh?”
“Can you guess what I want?”
You don’t do much more than nod. It’s not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with.
“You don’t have to do any work,” He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago “Just don’t run away from me.”
If you notice how heavy the words are, you’re smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo can’t tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to.
He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. You’re wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now they’re yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you.
He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now.
And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring.
He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo can’t contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. He’s missed touching you more than he knows what to do with.
Even in being gentle, there’s little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He can’t pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. It’s making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy.
How different it is but the same. Something about how you’re clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust.
Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till you’re on top of him
The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once you’re all set, face to face like this.
“Don’t run away from me,” He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until you’re half-way over him. You’re so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. There’s a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow.
He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.
“Look at you all bent over for me,” He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. “So pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.”
A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole.
Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. You’re soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.
He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin.
“Fuck,” He laughs, giggling at the thought of it “I’m gonna break you, huh? Gotta be—shit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?”
“Please be gentle.” You say at his request.
“Of course, of course but—” He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily “You just—you’d look so good so full of my cock, y’know? Been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”
And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips.
“You like that?” He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him “You like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?”
Shame fills you, like Gojo’s lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later he’ll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you.
“Weeks and weeks, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you won’t have to think about anything else again.”
The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his.
His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“C’mon. You can look.”
He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo can’t stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you.
“Touch it, sweetheart” He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you “Feel it? That’s all you.”
A flush graces your features. For a minute, it’s all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms.
“Fuck that’s it,”
He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him.
With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him.
Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he can’t help but think about how easily he can overpower you. He’s stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How he’s gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. You’ll open and endure and take him so deep.
He can’t help appreciating it. Can’t keep his thoughts quiet from telling you.
“See that? How deep I’m gonna go?” He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb “Gonna feel me right in here. You ready?”
You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you.
“Nuh-uh. Want you to see. Don’t close your eyes.”
It’s not a question or a request.
So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. It’s agonizing how slow. It’s incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like he’s going to pass out just sitting there.
And then there’s looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down.
“Hurt too much?”
“N-no. Just… feels weird.”
He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like they’re sucking him and Gojo wouldn’t leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter.
With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.
“Still okay?”
You nod weakly.
“Can I move?”
Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.
So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly.
‘O-oh. Oh, oh it’s,”
He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so there’s no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess.
“Starting to feel good?”
“S-satoru.”
He swears.
“Fuck, stop that,” He swears “Gonna—shit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.”
You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.
Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things.
“Touch yourself for me, okay?”
You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. He’s so hard he can’t think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him.
He can tell you’re starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. It’s a force that’s nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness he’s created and chased after so long.
Now this part of you is all his too.
“Sa—Satoru,” You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts “G-gonna…”
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.”
It’s all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like he’s trying to embed them into himself.
You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. It’s almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go.
Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. He’s still hard as he’s twitching. He can’t hold off tonight, he doesn’t think. But he’ll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline.
He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still.
“I’m yours and you’re mine baby. Forever and always.”
You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that it’s the resentment coming back in waves. But that’s okay, because Gojo loves you.
And with this, he’s taken everything.
EPILOGUE / OVERTURE :
Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now.
You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldn’t really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same.
In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.
But it doesn’t particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didn’t think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you.
The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. You’d learn from it. You’d do it again and that time you would succeed.
That’s what you told yourself anyway. It’s how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. He’d come and he’d discipline but it was never too cruel.
(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think it’s so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think you’d prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.)
This has been the farthest you’ve ever gotten. You don’t think you’ve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You don’t know how Gojo found you.
You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it.
Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised and bleeding from where you’ve fallen. You’re cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you can’t find any heartbeat to motivate you.
Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways.
Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin.
“My birthdays soon, you know?” He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you “It’s not a bad place, y’know? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.”
He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and don’t even cry. A numbness settles.
It is not the cold.
“Oh, look,” Gojo says, reaching his hands out “Snow’s falling.”
You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this.
A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.
#writing tag#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#noncon cw#yandere cw#manipulation cw#coercion cw
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I can't stop thinking about blind reader with satoru. Satoru is someone who has six eyes, and also can sense things from far away, which means, his senses are heightened
For blind reader, it isn't the case. She is someone who met gojo when gojo saw her as a teacher, teaching braille [language for blind people] in a school of disabled people.
He is interested by her and tries to help her walking, trying to flex or show his god complex, trying to get praise from but she Immediately wacks him with her walking stick and says "I am blind, not dumb, I can take care of myself" she walks away, leaving gojo feeling a bit guilty that he sees her as someone who is disabled and not her as a person who has a personality beyond being disabled
He tries to then interact with her, giving her sweets, telling her stories (as the yapper he is) and she listens to everything patiently and forms a connection with him and gojo finds her strong and beautiful.
He then confesses and there is this scene where she says "I may not see you, but I can see your soul, who is ever so kind, playful and beautiful" and with tears they kisss hehehehhehehe
I just was giggling with how fluffy this is
-🎀
i am literally clutching my chest . I WILL DIEEEEEEEE 😞😞 their love story would be so super adorable oh my god nonnie u need to become a fanfic writer asap helloooooo i would love to read this???
a long one shot or even a series would EAAAAAATTTT im so enabling u to become a writer if you arent already (and if only u have the time and motivation to) bcs im drooling over thisssss . satoru with his oversensitive eyesight and a blind reader…. the trope omg so good 🍽️🍽️
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OK but gojo would overuse cheezy lines because it makes reader laugh and roll her eyes, I can see him being so cheesy it hurts
a/n: DARLA U R FEEDING THE INSANITY I HAVE IN REGARDS TO GOJO !!!!!! this is so cutee ty for requesting !!!
yes very correct!!! he likes to find jokes in EVERYTHING i swear he’s so smart relating them to mochi or farts
“did you fart? cause you blew me away.” like…. that is not a romantic pick up line gojo…
hes not ashamed to say how he picked you up with a joke back in high school and all you did was roll your eyes (because he is was pretty annoying to you back then) and walk away
he had even bought your favourite drink to confess but all you did was roll your eyes and walk off… immediately flipping open your phone to text utahime and shoko in a group chat of the three of you
poor dude 😭😭
but you started to fall for him — you’re not too sure how and when, but you’re actually the one who used a lame pick up line to start the rs and not him!!
you were tempted to use his but you thought of something you knew he’d like and you’re almost mumbling it (gojo hears it the first time, like doesn’t he have six eyes? not six ears? smh)
he asks u to repeat it (“i like you very mochi…”) and he’s soooo annoying about it but ceases your misery with a big hug
continues to use it throughout your relationship - has SO many from the top of his head it’s quite a feat ngl
a little more into your relationship he teases you about love @ first sight — “do you believe in it? or should i walk past again?”
you almost slap him with your drink
when you’re going shopping for new clothes for megumi and tsumiki he points to his shirt
“know what this is made of?”
you deadpan, “what.” and the giggles are almost so difficult to hold back on gojo’s end.
“it’s boyfriend material.”
“satoru. you ARE my boyfriend.”
HES SO GOOFY I SWEARRR and he screams excitedly and does jazz hands and says “really?” with a cute, fairly punchable face 😭😭
that was the first time it really sunk in gojo was ur bf cause u bagged the strongest sorcerer? insanity. it made you smile a little, you cant lie
another time you’re teaching history to megumi as part as one of his middle school classes, and gojo shouts from the kitchen
“im studying to become a historian.”
and you almost spit out your drink cause what the fuck was he saying??? wasn’t he 25 and a super popular sorcerer
megumi says “oh no” and you think you know what’s coming. gojo finishes it
“i’m especially interested in finding a date.”
“oh COME ON.” and megumi leaves PLEASEKRNF hes so funny, “come teach me when you two stop flirting” 💀
safe to say megumi failed his history test
he plants these little things a lot, that soon you get accustomed to it or even answer it for him and he’s like whining
“you’re so sweet, baby,” and you know there’s a catch to everything he says
“yeah cause i give you a toothache, right”
“BABEEEEE ….” he attempts to give you the silent treatment for one hour. he lasts five minutes
you think it has something to do with age, maybe, cause the longer you’re with gojo the longer you find yourself liking the stupid lame pick-up lines he uses
like sure rolling eyes and giving him the finger is fun but they make your heart flutter at times and you find that you can’t stifle a smile that well around gojo anymore lolol
one day gojo broke the door off the hinges, honestly you dont know how either, so you head to IKEA
“your eyes are like IKEA, i could get lost in them for hours.” and you’re shoving him with a loud laugh, not really rolling your eyes.
he bombards you with lines as you act as suburban couples in the showrooms, he says something about meatballs and then you two really get lost
shrek movie night: “call me shrek cause i’m head ogre heels are you”
and you’re sputtering pizza all over the living room as you laugh, giving your own line that has you two forgetting about the movie. megumi rolls his eyes and smiles when he sees you two having fun :)
gojo likes your laugh, he likes to make u laugh, and he has a thousand and one more pick up lines to use on you
that night he uses “you’re so beautiful you made me forget my pick up line” and you gush, pushing him away with a shy smile and everything. he kisses you and whispers “i mean it.”
just know you’re fated to this stupid goofy man and his stupid pick up lines for the rest of your life <3
#asks#sukunaphilia#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk hcs#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk gojo#jjk gojo x reader
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ultraviolence — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
wc : 3k
summary : suguru coming home was supposed to make things better. but, it's as if everything is going wrong again.
part of : the star paradox collection.
notes : pls read this and this first ty!! LORE DUMP 🤭 mostly from sugu n toru's pov dealing with their new life and the twins along with jujutsu society. reader is trying to be the mediator as always and shoko is the best ofc. just the one where everyone has an existential crisis. (part one of two hopefully)
other : I PROMISE YOU'LL GET FLUFF SOON 😭 mentions of alcohol, blood, smoking obvi, idk why i named this ultraviolence lmao (shit hits the fan in the next tsr im js trying to be kind i promise!)
comment to be added to the tsr taglist!
current cassette : pretty when you cry - lana del rey
You come home to a house colder than you left it.
There’s a small comfort in the droplets of water that splatter against the wooden floor when you hang your jacket up, having remembered the way the girls beamed up at you only an hour ago as you walked them to school.
The twins were adamant to hold your hands, Mimiko blushing the whole time and Nanako poking fun at it, promising to hold your hand everyday until they became big girls.
Big girls that would only need you to hold their hand halfway — the same way Suguru only walks you and Satoru halfway to the school before heading back.
But the sliver of a chill that reverberates through your bones doesn’t resemble the comfort of a morning’s soft rain drizzle.
“You can’t just dismiss the issue like this, Satoru!”
“Where’s my own will, huh? Can’t I just do this?”
“This isn’t about you.”
You hear everything for a moment, muffled shouts and grumbles from the bathroom.
“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear, haven't you?”
Then you hear nothing at all.
The investigation launched on the ninth day in December.
Suguru had all but been home for a week and then some, settling into the shoddy apartment you and Satoru called home between missions and meetings with Yaga and the higher ups.
It took half a day to move his old things out of the dormitory building, most of what really mattered was already sitting in the hall closet untouched, kept the way Suguru would’ve wanted it.
It was after he rifled through the closet in search of a fresh set of clothes did he realize, he had been mourned.
You and Satoru had mourned him like a mother would a child, like a womb stretched to make space, only to bleed.
His clothes smelled more like the both of you than it did him.
The fourth day, Suguru spent the night hunched over the balcony, smoking a silver blue parliament with Shoko while you and Satoru attended a hearing with the higher ups.
A necessary audience, they defined over the cryptic email.
Shoko described it as a means to an end, Satoru was still the strongest and you were his voice. The meeting was all but a farce to keep you two in check — but Suguru read it clearly for what it was.
A threat.
“He’ll be clan head,” Suguru murmured between plumes of smoke. “They won’t let him turn it down any longer, especially with me around.”
At this, Shoko chuckled, sucking in a sharp breath.
“You think he’ll do it this time?” She asked, somewhere between knowing and not knowing.
The higher ups want Satoru under their thumbs — not that you’d so much as let them come close — that much is evident. But it’s become a lose to win situation.
The guarantee that Suguru and the girls would remain untouched and hidden under the condition that he follows their rules, does it their way, doesn’t ask, doesn’t so much as breathe a word or commit an action using his own strength outside their command—
“Satoru as a lap dog?” Suguru laughs a little.
He just can’t picture it.
What he can picture though is the Six Eyes user backed into a corner, with no other choice but to concede. Then again, Satoru’s never been submissive to authority, no matter the setting.
A beat of silence passes over him and Shoko, and she knows what he’s thinking before he says it, yet she doesn’t caution him otherwise nor does she blame the nicotine.
“He could kill them.” Suguru says, “It wouldn’t take him long.”
The seventh day, Suguru stands in the middle of one of the many engawa corridors of Jujutsu High, dressed like a teenage dropout, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheeks until crimson stains his tongue.
You told him last night while cuddled into his side, Satoru’s head on his chest, “Walk away from it the right way, Suguru.”
And admittedly, he was going to laugh a little, kiss your cheek and maybe lull you back to sleep and ease your worries.
I don’t resent you,
for the path you chose.
As long as you swear,
yours and ours will converge.
“Geto, what is this?”
Suguru looks down at the sealed envelope he passed to Yaga seconds ago, the word resignation printed in bold atop the sealed flaps.
If he intends to kill himself, he should at least do it the way you asked him to.
He owes you that much.
Suguru never thought of himself to have been in a position where he could live past twenty ; he thought he was lucky Satoru even let him live to see the first snow, even if it was from the bittersweet solitude of the bed you three shared.
“I’ll graduate first,” Suguru says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.
For the sake of saving face he took a total of ten missions after his sentence was pardoned.
Five to prove he wasn't a liability to the Jujutsu world, two to hover by your side – he hadn't realized post traumatic stress could manifest in the need for more physical attachment – and three to see up close just how much Satoru had on his shoulders now.
To see just how different Satoru had become because of him.
“And then?” Yaga asks it like a cruel joke that only he and Suguru know.
People are talking. People have been talking.
Suguru Geto the defect. Suguru Geto the cancer of the strongest. Suguru Geto the curse. Suguru Geto—
“Maybe I’ll die of old age.”
I pray death finds me
under you two
in our bed.
If not,
kill me yourselves.
There’s meaning in that too.
That same afternoon, brandished with what should be newfound freedom – Suguru Geto. Not the sorcerer, not the curse, not the man – he drinks himself sick until he blacks out on the sofa.
Alcohol is cheap at Shinanoya, it’s been that way since he was sixteen and idle in the summer of ‘06, coaxed by Satoru into printing fake IDs, blacking out on the floor of your dorm room and waking up to throw up, just to blackout again.
Suguru took the train back and passed his stop two times.
Two times he thought of two different outcomes and two different destinations.
First, he’d go back to Jujutsu High and take the resignation back from Yaga before he signed it.
He’d call your cellphone, tell you how he's had a change of heart, whisper into the line : “We should celebrate. Me, you and Satoru.”
But you’d know it was a lie.
He still has twisted dreams of waking up in a gas station bathroom in a pool of blood that isn't his own.
Dreams that don't frighten him at all.
Second, it came to him the moment he considered actually getting off at his stop and going back to the apartment.
He’d let the train take him to Shibuya, stand in the middle of the crossing and scream.
People would look at him weird, others would walk by.
And the first monkey to reach out and offer him help, he’d—
“Suguru?”
He wakes with a startle, eyes bloodshot and half lidded.
“Name—” he opens his mouth, half empty vodka bottle tilted over and soaking the carpet. Satoru comes through the door a moment later, leading the twins to the kitchen to set their half eaten bentos down.
A shiver runs down his spine when he glances at the clock above the mantle. 12:53pm.
“School ended half day,” you say to him. Satoru doesn't so much as glance at Suguru when he steps back in to take the plastic bags of takeout from your hands. “They called but you didn't—”
Suguru's already sitting up, fishing through his pockets for his phone and clicking at the buttons.
Two missed calls from Mimiko and Nanako’s school.
Two missed calls from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Aiko.
Four missed calls from you.
One voicemail from Satoru.
“I'm so— shit,” Suguru sets the bottle of alcohol upright, pressing a palm to the carpet to find it damp.
His skin is hot, he feels like a mess, no doubt he looks like a mess with the way you're already kneeling beside him to screw the bottle shut. “I’m so sorry, I didn't— everything with the letter and then the train got delayed—”
“Suguru.” Satoru speaks for the first time, looks at him for the first time – behind bandaged eyes. “Sober up by tomorrow, yeah?”
Your head flits around to give Satoru a stare, as if to ask if that's all he has to say right now. But Suguru’s fingers enclose around your wrist, it’s okay, I was the one at fault.
“Satoru—”
“Just do this one thing right, please.”
The twins’ school dismissed half day due to heavy snow this early in the month. Suguru, listed as the girls’ primary guardian, gets the calls first.
He doesn't pick up.
Your work line rings next, and it goes to voicemail.
In between exorcising a special grade in Shinjuku, you don't hear it ring.
As the devil would have it made and done, Satoru’s line rings while he's at the school. Loud.
“Gojo-san!” The lady from the admin office knocks on the door twice, and is met with silence. The phone rings again, but this time it's the main line. The office extension.
The one he’s been using since he put in his teaching application.
The phone clatters against the desk in robust vibrations, Limitless almost bending the coily cord to nothingness.
The meeting room of four higher ups and two members of the Gojo clan watch him intently, scrutinizing him, waiting.
Beyond his better judgment, Satoru tells himself it's just you, calling to ask if you should bring back kikufuku or just the udon.
Or it's Suguru, who’s confused and can't find one of his things in the apartment and needs some guidance.
Satoru's not a pious person. But he wishes he’d have prayed the moment the call went to the answer machine.
“Good day, Mr. Gojo! I’m calling regarding the girls. School’s been dismissed half day today on account of the weather but Mr. Geto nor Ms. Name are picking up.”
“I’m hoping this reaches you soon so the girls can have a ride home. Thankyou! Stay warm!”
The eighth day, you wake to the smell of jasmine and hot oil. Four messages from Yaga, one email attached, forwarded to Satoru : Adoption fraud.
“—he hates me.” Suguru mumbles, shirtless and damn near cowering from your gaze, flipping the omelet in the frying pan, two steps away to avoid the oil splatter.
“Don't say that so casually,” you shake your head, shutting the fridge door, setting a carton of milk on the counter. “It's not like you believe that.”
Suguru flips the omelet with one hand on the pan handle, the other flicking the carton open and turning it to his head in a quick gulp.
He doesn't confirm it.
“Suguru—” you smack his arm and take the milk, turning away to rummage through the pantry for the pancake mix.
“I know.”
No, Suguru.
You don't know.
"I try to be patient," Suguru says quietly, shaking his head. "I know we're not sixteen and that this and then are two different things—” He turns the flame down, refusing to look over at you.
“Nobody's asking you to be perfect,” you cut him off, pancake mix forgotten on the counter. “You made a mistake, it happens—”
The higher ups are already breathing down Satoru’s neck about the twins now that they've been found out. It's an uphill battle in the Jujutsu world, your phone won't stop ringing.
Whether it's Yaga proposing damage control to have you and Satoru set apart on missions or another higher up waiting for you to slip up and beg for help, beg to be in their debt.
“I owe you better,” Suguru whispers, more to himself than to you.
He’s never been the type to ask for help or beg for forgiveness or cower at someone's heels. But you saved him — by putting your life on the line and in turn making Satoru cover it up — and he hates himself for it.
I wish
you would've
just let me stay dead.
“Because that's what I deserve? Better?”
Suguru gets the call from Shoko the next day.
December 9, 2007.
A formal investigation is announced into the involvement of [name] [name] in the case of Suguru Geto’s defection and pardon — alleged charge : fabrication of evidence.
Satoru makes his mind up the same day, sends the twins to stay at the dorms with Shoko for the weekend and brings you and Suguru with him to the Gojo estate.
“I can feel your eyes,” you whisper, seated cross legged on the tatami floor, nursing a cup of tea in your cupped palm.
You've never liked the Gojo estate. Not in winter at least, not when it's like this.
Satoru has his back turned to you, fingering the loose cloth of white bandages covering his eyes, almost hesitant. He recalls his mother's words to him from a few hours ago.
You look tired, Satoru. You're never tired.
There’s an unspoken thing residing here between both your energies and it becomes unbearably evident.
“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, slipping the baby blue haori off his shoulders, draping it over the edge of the bed. “Just the cold getting to me 's all.”
Loose and darkened strands of hair lay on the silk sheets where Suguru sat moments ago. Satoru holds his breath.
My lover’s hair is splitting at the ends, tearing apart at the seams just like me.
I pray you don’t notice.
“Is he okay?”
You set the ceramic cup down on the table, turning your head to glance over at Satoru, who despite himself, wears his emotions like a cardigan knit tight between his brows.
“Why won’t you just ask him, ‘toru?”
He thinks he hates you. He hates not being more like you.
With the way you say these things so easily.
Maybe it’s the deep rooted thrum of Suguru’s cursed energy in his veins, or the bitter taste on his tongue when he wakes in the middle of the night just to see if he’s still here—
Maybe it’s that voice in the back of his head, the instinct pounding on the walls of his heart, telling him this is only for a while, it won’t last.
“You can’t lie to me.” Satoru reasons, bending his knees and folding his body next to yours, wrapping and unwrapping the length of cloth around his fingers over and over again. “But he can.”
Or maybe it’s the way he knows even if Suguru lied to him again, said it was okay, said that he’d stay, said that he’d let you and Satoru be selfish for once and keep him here, keep him tethered to this existence he loathes so much—
“Satoru…”
—he’d believe him.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” He sighs, near breathless.
You lift your hands to cup either side of his face, hooking your thumbs under the pale cloth, unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.
How many more layers?
How many more walls?
How many—
“His energy is restless.” Satoru could find other words to describe it, the aura, the shape of Suguru’s soul, his scent, his being, his whole existence. Something only you could understand.
“It’s pouring into me, and I can’t— I pretend I don’t feel it, that I don’t know that he’s…”
Different.
Suguru is different now, he wants to say.
Suguru’s unhappy with me, unhappy with us.
I can’t give him what he needs.
I was too selfish to have asked him to stay. You were too selfish in saving him.
We were too selfish. Do you think he hates me for it? Do you think he wishes he were—
“He loves you.” You tug on the cloth, let it fall and pool in endless strands around his neck. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
Satoru’s eyes are dim, bleaky sapphire and cerulean staring back at you.
Don’t look at them, look at me, look inside me, my eyes are lying, that’s not how I feel—
“He loves you too,” he says it like a confession, a secret. Love can’t be enough, can it?
Love never stopped Suguru from leaving the first two times.
Love never stopped Satoru from waking up so many nights with tears running down his neck, from where you cried for Suguru in your dreams.
Love never stopped Satoru from not being strong enough to bend the world and stretch it to fit Suguru inside.
Why should you love him whom hates the world so?
Satoru lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, body slumped over yours and breath shaky.
Loving Suguru came as easy as breathing if not easier.
He’d spend nights curled in his bed at the dorms, clicking through photos he’d taken of you three, back then, when it wasn’t anything yet but still everything to him.
“Yaga-sensei, please pair me with someone else!”
“Hah!? We not good enough for you anymore, name?”
“Satoru, name, don’t yell so early in the morning…”
And even from the first mission, when Suguru’s hair was shorter and you hadn’t quite figured out how to control your technique.
When Satoru had to save you from plummeting to your death after you sliced a curse open just for grabbing Suguru and yanking him by his hair.
Satoru thinks, maybe, he came into this world loving you two.
Because he loves me more than all the world.
“I’ll protect you,” he whispers into your neck, full of conviction.
He’s never not the strongest, except maybe when he’s here, in these moments. “I’ll protect the both of you.”
Let me do this one thing,
just this once.
Let me be the one
who holds us together.
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uhmuhm! can i be smile anon!!
i have a silly request, you dont have to write if you aren't taking requests but like,, gojou with like some kind of makima vessel reader
like how they would get along and stuff ^_^
#BITE ME, g. satoru!
you weren’t known by gojo until you were introduced. surprisingly enough, he wasn’t the only one with charming eyes (and terrifying powers).
content warning: swearing, r! has makima’s abilities and eyes but they don’t necessarily look like her, gender neutral! reader, r! wears a white button up with a black tie, a black blazer hung around their shoulders, black dress pants and a bandage wrapped around their neck (honestly like 15! dazai), etc.
authors note: u absolutely can!!! <3 my requests arent open but i really liked this request :3 im sorry if this is bad or not exactly what u want but i tried :( and so sorry this is late!!
knowingly enough, gojo satoru was known to be charmed and blessed with eyes that most people swoon for ever since he was a child. not only blessed with charming eyes but finally born with both limitless and six eyes, the first one in 500 years.
because of that, he was spoiled rotten (how horrible!) but no one can deny that he didn’t deserve it. after all, after 500 years of the gojo clan producing, they finally got a kid who changed the balance of the world.
after he turned the rip age of 28, he noticed a person always wake by his classroom with a man beside them. the one thing that caught his attention, was the energy they gave off.
not once did he notice the eyes that pierced through his black blindfolds.
the first time he was formally introduced to them, was that one time where nobara was introduced to megumi and yuuji. he didn’t notice it as first but he realized you were the person walking pass his classroom all the time.
time for the friendship headcanons!
at first, gojo’s first impression of you, was how calm and collected your composure was with some joking antics here and there. you were mostly there just in case gojo wasn’t able to be there with them.
in general, gojo thought you were trying to compete with him because of how you came close to strongest sorcerer (selfish).
i don’t have a grasp understanding of how you two became friends, actually… i don’t think you would necessarily be friends, more like people who trust eachother, have eachothers back and holding respect for each but at the same time, you two don’t trust eachother.
it’s a weird friendship, though, sometimes you two got along, talking and joking around. the next thing you know, you two are ignoring eachother like you never even knew the other.
the concept of friends didn’t scream anything to you, friends didn’t come close to you with how you picture him. in shorter terms, you saw most people like pawns, a means to your plans. gojo was just there.
most of the times, he annoyed you a lot, you could see the way nanami didn’t want to step an inch to gojo (considering how he’s younger than gojo, yet looks older then him. how odd?).
despite everything you two go through as teachers and partners, there are no growth in your “friendship”, as both of your students call it. it’s not what you’re expecting but from the beginning, gojo has had an off feeling about you.
the first time gojo witnessed your technique, was during the shibuya arc; where he massacred a bunch of transfigured humans. you were there helping him, after all, what type of person would you be?
as i said, even though you’re not necessarily friends, you two still have eachothers back.
development!
when time passes, there was a feeling in your stomach whenever you would hang around with gojo, that shoko would explain to you as ‘fondness’.
he was starting to look more like a friend than just a pawn, a nauseous (that didn’t change actually). though, he doesn’t automatically get a pass because the two of you started to call eachother actually friends.
the trio saw the way you two were always with eachother, technically glued to eachothers side and always being there for the other.
gojo, still ever being hungover his ex, saw just a glimpse of him in you, that was partially the reason why he grew closer to you but at the same time, he grew worried that something might happen to you.
without a doubt, even though he’s a complete cocky, egotistical, idiot of a man, his one weakness is his big heart. that’s the first thing you noticed about him. it wasn’t his looks, his energy, or how he was the strongest, it was his big heart that he so desperately tried to hide away.
there’s development to both parties.
you, started to think of him like an actual friend, someone you cared about, and no doubt about it, someone you would sulk over if he ever disappeared.
gojo, who— praying to the lord— for once, will try to get over his ex when he’s with you, there’s something about you that makes everything that’s happening disappear, he needs comfort, you provide that to him.
relationship!
oh boy. why would you ever date him?
how did you even start dating him?
yet again, i don’t have a grasp understanding on how the dating started but i could give a brief explanation of how the feelings developed from there on.
the fondness you get from being around him developed into something where, if he ever got hurt or someone said something to him, you would go ballistic.
he’s someone you genuinely started to cherish and for someone to say or do anything to him would send you to a toxic state. it’ll have him a lot of time to convince you not to harm this person or curse.
eventually, the feelings than letter on developed into, again, what shoko would explain to you, as love. you had rejected the idea of love for ages because you thought you weren’t able to ever feel it. gojo proved that wrong.
gojo’s a nauseous to be around, but knowing him for quite some time made him into a pleasing nauseous. gojo started to pick up that your starting to enjoy bringing around him that he started to tease you about it.
you wouldn’t lie and say the teasing was annoying, it was but it wasn’t the same annoying as before.
when gojo started to fall for you, he quickly tried to bury it before it got out of hand. remember that breakup scene at the kfc? yeah… he doesn’t want that again. let alone fall in love again.
he already lost geto, he can’t lose you. everything he’s ever loved and didn’t want to lose, is lost the moment he gains it.
though, he’d drop signs, massive signs or just small signs, they’re there. even though of what i just said, he’s whipped for you. so down horrendous, my lord.
when you two do get in a relationship, gojo’s touch starved and it shows. he needs to have some sort of contact with you or he’ll sulk in a corner. for a matter of fact, if he doesn’t get atleast 5 kisses each day, he’ll ignore you out of spite until you do kiss him. that’s when he gives you a kiss attack.
i won’t go deep into the intimate details, you can dream about those yourself but i will say, he’s fucking crazy in there (and so are you!)
you’re absolutely spoiled by him, he loves you so why not just give you everything. regardless of that, he knows both of you don’t have enough time, so he tries to make it count by making you happy.
he loves the sparkle in your eye when he surprises you with gifts you adore.
the same goes for you, knowing he’s touch starved, you try and shower him in affection as much as you can before the two of you depart on missions that don’t involve you two partnering up.
knowingly enough, pda is a must in the relationship. though, gojo will stop if you don’t like it, he’s a dick but he’s a good dick (no pun intended).
even though, there’s not enough time and both of your lives are on the line since you’re jujutsu sorcerers, you’re both grateful you had enough time to confess.
oh, and gojo swoons over you, annoying megumi when you’re not there.
#⑴ kaz’s written works!#⑴ smiley anon!#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#fluff#angst#gojo satoru x gender neutral reader#gojo satoru x female reader#gojo satoru x male reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#csm#makima reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk gojo#jjk spoilers#jjk x reader
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Warnings: Depression, murder
When Suguru Geto fell into a long and dark spiral of despair and misery, you knew exactly what to do.
It was clear that the others hadn’t realised his weird behaviour or even how the depression took a toll on his looks, which seemed slightly stupid to you, but you figured that perhaps they had all been occupied by surviving in the Jujutsu world, rather than worrying about a friend.
However, since you were also a sorcerer, this hadn’t made much sense to you.
You decided to wait until someone else noticed. In the meantime, you tried your absolute best in helping Suguru become happy again, with the will to live in this cruel world. You were his girlfriend after all, and seeing your beloved absolutely shattered made your heart shatter itself.
You talked to him, hugged him, bought him things. You never forced him to say anything he didn’t want to. He was too scared, nervous that perhaps if he told you just a little about how he was feeling, you’d be quick to leave, because his mind was an endless storm full of dark thoughts he would never think to share, even to you.
You asked him about his days, supported him, and tried to make him eat after realising he had lost a ton of weight. Yet nothing worked.
Then soon you found yourself exhausted by completely sacrificing your energy on Suguru, but you would never dare to call it ‘sacrificing’. You swore that if anything happened to him, you wouldn’t forgive yourself for not being able to help.
And after realising that his friends didn’t pick up on any of this, you decided to confront them, because what good friends wouldn’t notice their friend’s soon-to-be downfall?
Satoru didn’t believe you at first.
But after recalling Suguru's behaviour over the past few weeks, Satoru knew that something wasn’t right.
So the both of you attempted to help him. Satoru spent less time on training his Reversed Cursed Technique, instead spending more time with you and Suguru, whilst you just carried on with what you did before consulting with the Six Eyes user.
It was going well. You noticed sudden, but good changes in your boyfriend’s behaviours and appearance. Suddenly the black circles under his tired eyes became less visible each day, and his knotted hair became more smooth and knotless. His weak voice returned to the gentle and caring one he had before, and he started leaving his room more often. Although you knew that there would always be a scar engraved into his heart, you felt nothing more than pride for managing to fix it, to fix your slightly strained relationship, to fix his life before anything unforgettable happened.
On that day when everything turned back to normal, you could finally go to sleep knowing that your boyfriend was back after so many nights of crying and worrying for him. You went to sleep so peacefully, eyes closing instantly after hitting the bed, with a smile on your face.
And when you woke up, you were horrified to hear that your Suguru Geto, the one who you pampered with kisses every day, the one who cried on your shoulder every day, had just committed mass murder.
The news caused you to stagger backwards, supporting yourself against the wall as the startling information sunk in, your breathing coming out in shaky, rapid breaths.
Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts.
It was going so well. It was going so well. He was getting better. You thought you helped him.
Did you happen to make it worse?
Was it because of you that they planted an execution on him?
Was it… your fault?
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A/N: To the anon who requested a Gojo fic, if you see this, know that I have noted your request down. Im not sure if it will be done quickly, I have many things to do atm, but you will get it soon :)
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#jjk suguru#geto suguru#jjk x reader#jjk x you#geto x reader#geto x you#getou suguru x reader
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I wanna ruin our friendship
Summary: Sudden feelings for your blue eyed bestfriend makes it difficult to be around him. But apparently he thinks its difficult not be you around either.
Tags: satorugojo x fem reader, tooth rotting fluff, pining (satoru), ft megumi, yuji, and nobara.
AN: This is how I cope. :')
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"Oh no." Your eyes widened at your realization, hand immediately gripping your chest as if trying to stop all your feelings from overflowing.
Oceans eyes that somehow held galaxies in them looked back at you. They were bright and full of undeniable contentment that took everything in you not to spill the words that were trying to come out, "Say somethin?
You lips opened to say something before deciding against it and shaking your head. "mm, its nothing."
His warm hand squeezed yours as he continued leading you through the crowded train station of Shibuya. "Stay close."
Holdings hands was his idea. So you wouldn't lose each other he said with that cocky grin. Ignoring the fact that he could just teleport the both of you anywhere.
It was the same hand that held yours right now that sent tingles through your arm and straight to your heart. So here you were gripping your chest for dear life as the realization dawned on you. The feelings so overwhelming that unshed tears lined your eyes.
You were in love with Satoru Gojo.
And it terrified you.
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This was getting ridiculous, Gojo thought. Its been almost two weeks. Two weeks of no proper communication, no impromptu hang outs, no movie nights, no you and It was driving him insane.
Answering him with a simple "Im busy. Sorry." to every attempt he did at getting you to see him but to ko avail. He could barely function during long term missions without you. And now you're deliberately choosing not to see him for some reason he cannot -for the life of him- fanthom. He was called all seeing with his six eyes but that clearly some kind of false advertisement.
He groaned outloud and began banging his head on the table. Hands itching to pull his hair out in frustration.
A jovial voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Is something wrong, Gojo-sensei?"
Oh. Right. He was in the middle of class when thoughts of you began to plague his mind. But when were you really not on his mind?
An aloof Megumi, a bored Nobara and a curious Yuji met his gaze.
"Its nothing. Its nothing." He says, waving it off with a grin.
He heard the sound of a chair being dragged as Nobara stood up. "Is class done? I promised Utahime and Y/N that I'd meet them after class."
The sound of your name made his ears perk. "Oooh, where are ya meeting them?"
"Why do y'wanna know?" Nobara looks at him suspiciously.
He leans back on his chair whistling nonchalantly, blindfold making him hard to read. "Oh no reason."
"Whatever."
She missed the way Gojo grinned evilly, cackling to himself like some evil mastermind when she left. Completely forgetting about Megumi and Yuji still in the classroom looking at him weirdly.
---------
"Hmmph."
The audacity you had to sit there in some stupid café next to Utahime and look so damn pretty was irritating.
How dare you smile at Nobara without a care in the world? As if Gojo's world wasn't ending. You should be smiling at him! At him!
Oh, how the mighty have fallen. If anyone could see the Gojo -honored one- Satoru basically stalking you from the other side of the street, he would be a laughing stock.
Still, after two weeks of not seeing you, he felt a tinge of relief in his chest that you look healthy. That you weren't dying or anything.
Yes, Gojo would not take any other reason than you dying for your avoidance of him. Thats why it irritated him even more, that you didn't want to see him. But if he was being honest , he was less irritated and more sad.
Enough was enough. He wanted, no needed to talk to you.
-----
"Satoru?"
The surpise evident in your voice as you saw him waiting for you beside your door. Sitting on the floor no less.
His signature cheery grin immediately curved on his face as he saw you. "Yo!"
You took a cautious step forward, a small frown on your face. "What are you doing here?"
He stood up to his full height, towering over you. "Well, someone was avoiding me so I had to find a way to see her somehow."
You visibly flinch at the implication of his words. "I wasn't avoiding you."
"Oh?"
"I was-"
"Busy. Sure. But you didn't seem busy while you were laughing it off with Nobara and Utahime." The tone of his voice was pouty, almost like was jealous that you were giving your attention to someone else.
You huffed, frustrated. "Gojo-"
"Satoru."
"What?"
"Im Satoru or Toru.." He began, voice melancholic. "Never Gojo, not to you."
Seriously, this guy. He has always been hard to read. Sometimes you wonder what might be going on in his mind from all the crazy things he does. Yet he has always been so vocal about everything to you that it wasn't so necessary to read his mind, except now.
A small sigh tumbled out of your lips. "Satoru."
The sound if your sweet voice calling his name so softly immediately brightened him up. "That's my girl."
You felt the blood rush to your cheeks at his words. It wasnt strange that you fell for him. Whats strange is how it took you this long to realize it.
Slender fingers tilted your chin up, "Now, how about ya tell me why you're avoiding me?"
Your eyes dart to the side, trying to find a way to escape him. Maybe you could jump over the railing? It just a two story building, but wait, would you even be fast enough to out run him?
Satoru immediately notices your dilemma, "Uh-uh." He tuts you. "Rid your pretty little head of those ideas, there's no escaping here."
Damn it, you thought. He was never going to let this go, was he? You were starting to think that it was time to face the music. To admit the truth that you were scared to admit even to yourself.
Strong arms start caging you against your door, trapping you to him which made your heartbeat raise exponentially.
"Ready to share with the class?" A small smirk dance on his face as leaned in closer, face a hair breadth away.
His blindfold gave nothing to what he was thinking which was just unfair. You bit your lip as you inched closer to him, making his breath hitch. Soft fingers reached up and tugged down his blindfold, causing whispy white hair to fall down and reveal mesmerising ocean blue eyes. Eyes that were completely enchanted by your every movement.
You wanted to see his honest reaction, leaving nothing to chance.
With your heart pounding in your ears, you took in a shaky breath before gazing back into his eyes. Your voice trembled a little as clumsy words tumble out of your lips, "I- Im in love with you."
His eyes widen slightly and its like he stopped breathing altogether. She loves me. She loves me. she loves me.
After a few beats, you were suddenly pulled flush into his chest. Arms wrapped around your torso as he tucked his head into your neck. "Sato-"
"Say it again."
"It's embarrassing. Don't make me say it again." You mumble into his cloth shoulder.
"Please?" He pleaded in that sad voice of his.
With your face flushed red and hands gripping his clothes tightly on his lower back. You sigh in defeat, you could never truly deny him of anything, could you? "I love you."
Your mind was racing a mile a minute. He hasn't said anything of substance but his tight grip on you gave you some semblance of hope. Hope that you didn't throw your years of friendship down the drain.
A soft laugh pulled you put of your thoughts. Before it turns into full blown laughter. Without warning , your feet left the ground as your being spun around by Satoru. His laugh like a melody in your ears that you couldn't help but giggle a little despite the confusion.
"Satoru, Im getting dizzy!" You cry out.
"Oops, sorry!" He planted you back on your feet and just when you started to catch your breath, soft lips pressed into yours in a searing kiss, like wanted to imprint his lips on yours. It made your toes curl and tingles run up your spine. You barely had the time to respond as Satoru pulled away leaving you breathless.
Gentle hands cradle your face as he leans his forehead against yours, a smile that seemed to be permanently etched into his face gleam back at you. "I love you too."
Your breath hitch at his admission, its like the words were trapped in you throat. You didn't know what to say. You feel your eyes turn glossy and you had to blink away the tears of relief. After being so scared of losing him.
The lack of response only made his smile widen into a goofy grin. "I love you, princess." His body began to cave into yours again. "-so so much."
You whispered something under your breath which made him pull away a bit. "Say somethin?"
"I said why didn't you just say that sooner!" You all but smack him , making him let out an exaggerated whine of pain. "Sorryyy, I just got so excited."
----
Bonus*
"By the way." He began from his side of the sofa, your legs sprawled out on his lap. "What made ya think that telling me that y'were madly and deeply in love with me was a bad thing?"
You roll your eyes at him, "First of all I did not say madly or deeply-" You sigh a bit, "Secondly, I didn't want to ruin our friendship."
He just tilts his head obliviously, "What? Really?" He rubs his chin in consideration. "Ive been trying to ruin our friendship for years though."
"What are you talking about?"
He shrugs, "Ive been flirting with you for years."
"You- what." You say dumbfounded.
Grabbing your hand, he pulls you to straddle his lap. Thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your waist. "Ive been in love with you for years. Flirted with you non-stop to make you fall for me. I was starting to think it didn't had any effect until now."
God, you wanted to smack his cocky grin away. "Reason I got so excited when ya told me was because the only thing going through my mind was thank God it worked!"
Instead you groan into his shoulder, "You're impossible, Toru."
"You love me."
"I do."
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A review would be much appreciated :)
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x reader#fanfiction#still broken hearted over satoru#fluff
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Hello there! It's the anon who made the Gojo x affectionate reader request, I have to say I absolutely love your writing, it's so adorable and wholesome!
Anyways, I wanted to make a similar request like the one I previously asked for, but with a different scenario- kinda.
So my prompt is that Reader is like Mitsuri(not female tho, but if you're ok with it maybe make them a bit effeminate? Like the soft boy aesthetic!), they are a 1st grader but have enough strength to beat even the strongest adult in Jujutsu High to the ground like a ragdoll, they're very sweet and affectionate and just precious in general. They are best friends with Gojo and Geto and were sent to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel with the boys since their strength and durability can put them in the same level as a Special Grade student.
Now here is where this whole scenario actually takes place; Reader somehow managed to enter the domain(?) that Suguru and Toji were fighting on, unfortunately they only manage to get to where they are after Toji had already defeated Geto and after seeing their best friend now bloodied and unconscious on the ground, Reader gets very pissed off and make it their personal goal to give Toji some righteous ass whooping for what he did to their friends and Amanai. And after they took care of Toji they took Geto and ran out of the domain before it could collapse on them.
Sorry if that's a long request! I like making my asks as detailed as I can and tend to go overboard, especially if it's about my current hyperfixations. I hope you' have a great day/afternoon/night! Also remember to stay hydrated and take breaks!😁
- Sincerely, 🌈 Anon.
★ - 'm so glad you liked it !! o(*////▽////*)q req's a tiny bit confusin' but 'm think 'm got the general gist of it!! :3
★ - 'm sorry but 'm wasn't exactly sure who the main character was, so 'm decided ta use em both cauze yanno they're right there!! ^_^
☆ - Teen! Satosugu x Male Reader — can be read as platonic or romantic!
♡ - Zuha's a bit silly n doesn't know how t'write fight scenes s'forgive 'im if it isn't suuuper good! ꒰#’ω`#꒱੭
This whole 'merging' with Riko was extremely taxing on you, Suguru, and Satoru, but it's almost over so you three can relax and play Digimon 'till you passed out!
"Uwaaa! I'm so tired..." You mutter, leaning on Suguru's shoulder as your group climbs the stairs leading to Tengen's barrier around Jujutsu High.
Riko beside you huffs. "You can at least pretend not to be!"
"I'm sure [Name] didn't mean anything by it." Kuroi smiles softly as the five of you finally reach the top of the stair way, safely inside Jujutsu High barriers.
You let out a sigh of relief. At first, you weren't entirely sure why you were put on the mission, you're only a first-grade sorcerer while Suguru and Satoru were special grades, but Yaga chalked it up to you being strong enough and your friends needing someone responsible to be with.
The mission took more out of Satoru than anyone else, you and Suguru were heavily aware of that. On Day Two, you stayed up with him the entire night, busying yourself with whatever videos you could find and an unhealthy amount of Sakura Mochi.
You hear Suguru tell Satoru he worked hard, and he did. Harder than the two of you could thanks to his technique. You make a mental note to yourself to treat the two of them to food when the merging is finally complete.
"I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again." Satoru rolls his eyes, the blue glow that indicated he was using his Six Eyes dissipating.
You walk up behind him and hug Satoru from behind. "Goob job 'toru!" You make sure not to squeeze too tight, he was tired and you didn't want to make him physically hurt too.
The next thing that happens, hurts.
You feel something— it's sharp — enter your abdomen and exit through Satoru's sternum.
The two of you instinctively look back. You're inside the barrier which is supposed to protect you from any intruders, but obviously from the blood that's piling up your throat, it didn't.
Satoru uses a small version of Blue and Suguru uses a curse. It hurt, obviously. You couldn't use your technique to nullify it because it wouldn't do it's job of hurting the man behind you, so you let it pass.
You breathe to calm yourself and analyze your situation. Your eye is bruised, not blind but there is blood obscuring your vision. You definitely have internal bleeding, but it missed vital spots so you can suck it up and deal with it.
Satoru and Suguru are talking about something, but you're worried about Riko and Kuroi— some could argue that you should be worried about the hole in your stomach but your injuries come later, Riko and Kuroi need to be safe.
"Suguru, [Name], get them to Tengen-sama."
Suguru tenses, gazing between you three before nodding. "Be careful!"
You get up, internal bleeding be dammed, grabbing Riko's arm and running the other way with Suguru.
The bleeding of your eye gets worse with every step and you have to keep running despite coughing up blood more times than is healthy. Suguru looks back at you, worried, but you assure him you're okay.
You can't let Satoru down. You can't let Suguru down, so you force your body to deal with it— force your body to use RCT, something you know like the back of your hand due to your technique.
The four of you reach the elevator that leads to where Tengen stays. Suguru makes sure You, Kuroi, and Riko enter in first before pressing the button for the lowest floor.
"H-here!" Kuroi hands you a handkerchief to clean the blood off your hands. You mumble out a small "thanks" using it to wipe your face as well.
You're strong, you know that. Being a first grade while in the second year is an amazing feat, but fuck you were scared.
You're able to go through Satoru's Infinity just fine, but that's because of your technique. That man, whoever he was, shouldn't be. "Satoru's going to be fine, don't worry," Suguru says as if he can hear your thoughts, patting your arm for reassurance.
If Suguru says everything is going to be okay, then everything is going to be okay. You remind yourself to focus, focus, focus— because after this, you two will go help Satoru, and everyone will be fine.
The elevator stops and the four of you get out. You're beside Suguru and Riko and Kuroi trail behind you. All of a sudden, Kuroi stops.
She's crying and you can feel your heart breaking. This 'merging' thing was fucked up from the get-go. No kid should have to always have in the back of their mind that they're going to die, and there's nothing they can do to stop it.
"Suguru..." You mumble softly. You shouldn't be seeing this— it's private, meant to be between them. Suguru nods. He understands, he knows what's happening is messed up and he's going to do something about it, who cares what Tengen needs?
The walk is silent, unnervingly so but you're about to kill a kid. The thought makes your stomach churn but you do nothing about it. You're strong, you can deal with it.
"Suguru, I'm staying back." You say, hands pressed into a fist and your head hung low. You can't stomach the thought of willingly killing a kid— you won't forgive yourself even though you know you can't do anything about it.
Suguru doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. You were put on the mission last minute, and he knows how empathetic you are.
You watch them make their way to Tengen's territory and you feel sick. You feel sick to your stomach, hunching down and forcing yourself to calm down.
"focus, focus, focus." You say like a mantra to yourself, even though you're scared. You know how to focus if the situation is right, but you just feel nauseous.
You hear steps walking closer and your heart jumps. It's Satoru! Satoru did it and now he's coming back to show that he's a part of the strongest duo in the Jujutsu world.
"Damn. Didn't know they had security here."
Your eyes widen. That voice doesn't sound like Satoru, and it doesn't look a thing like him. It's that man, the same one that went through Satoru's Infinity.
You can see him clearly now thanks to the yellow fluorescent lights on the sides of the wall.
He's more muscular than you you can tell that easily. His hair is flat against his head with eyes that don't have any form of empathy in them, and with a scar on his lip.
You aren't scared, surprisingly, you're angry— fucking livid.
He killed Kuroi, a woman who was so nice, so grateful for the things she'd had in life, a woman who didn't deserve to die. He killed Satoru— he killed the people you care about.
You don't ask questions, you don't stare with your mouth open like a moron, you start fighting.
You're struggling to keep your emotions in check even though the first and basic rule of Jujutsu Sorcery is to not let your emotions get in the way.
The man, whoever he is, grabs your wrist, hastily pocketing his gun and grabbing a knife, stabbing it straight through your sternum and dragging it down to your hip line.
He takes it out, your blood staining his forearm. He switches the way he's handling it and stabs you through your throat.
Your vocal cords and blood vessels are in pain, but you can't yell, can't scream, can't do anything. Your body face-first falls limp on the floor, pushing the knife deeper into your throat to the point it comes out the back of your neck.
He stomps on your head for good measure, grabbing his gun and walking towards where Geto and Riko are.
You feel your heart slowing down as your blood leaks to your fingers. You're dead, you're dead if you don't do something—anything. Your eyes close and blood leaks out of your mouth. You're done for.
The sound of rubble falling wakes you up, your hand twitching before you lug yourself up, the front of your uniform stained with your blood as the energy from your subconscious RCT flares off your body.
You pull the knife from your throat. It stings, obviously, but you don't care about that.
You know for a fact now that Satoru, Kuroi, and Riko are dead. With every step, you hear more crashing and buildings getting destroyed.
Your eyes scan the area. You can feel the output from one of Suguru's stronger curses, it's faint, most likely due to distance, but it's definitely there.
Jumping from the platform, you hastily make your way to where the energy was coming from.
You're there— so close until the building fucking collapses.
Your heart drops when all the dust and smoke clears. Suguru is lying down— is he dead? Oh Suguru, please don't be dead — an 'X' on his torso his eyes are closed and that same fucking man is standing in front of him.
"Shit kid, just can't stay dead can you?" His grin pisses you off. It's full of teeth as his scar grows wider.
He notices your expression, holding back a snicker. It looks just like the curse-eater's when he realized Gojo died. "Might wanna close your mouth, you'll catch a flyhead in there." He snickers, putting the blade he had back into his cursed spirit and getting a smaller weapon with two blades on it.
You grab a weapon out of your back pocket. Your technique barely helps in hand-to-hand combat so you're used to carrying a weapon on you that you're used to using. Why you didn't use it the first time, you aren't sure yourself.
It's a decent-sized blade Yaga had made with the technique of a retired sorcerer. Hammerspace or something, you don't really care. All you need now is that man dead.
You throw the knife at him for a distraction. He deflects it, like you expected. You ducked behind him, your hands curled up into a fist as your hand connected with the blade of his sword.
You had to make this quick so you can tend to Suguru.
Not giving him any time to land on his feet, you grab your blade from the air switching the grip into a reverse hammer and brute-forcing your way through his hand.
The blood splatters on your cheek, grabbing the blade out and using your other arm to hit him from the side.
You take a second to breathe. His arm has a hole in it and he's breathing heavily. That cocky grin finally wiped from his face.
Every single bone in your body was telling you to kill him, to put an end to him right then and there for killing people who didn't deserve it— for killing teenagers.
But then you remember Suguru. Suguru who's lying on the floor somewhere, most likely bleeding out. That is what pulls you out of your anger-infused trance, turning your back to the man and rushing for Suguru.
He doesn't try and kill you, thankfully, but you notice Riko's body is gone.
Pushing all that to the back of your mind, Riko's dead body, her lifeless face— her life that was cut too short because she was born as a vessel, you find Suguru.
His breathing is there, very faint, but it's there. Immediately starting RCT on his body as tears brim your eyes. You're crying now, crying over all the things you should've cried about before but were too busy trying to keep yourself alive— not that you could die anyway, you do RCT subconciously.
"Suguru... Suguru, please open your eyes," Your voice wavers as his uniform gets damp with your tears.
You keep RCT going, pressing your ear where Suguru's heart is as his blood stains your face. You cry over the death of Satoru, you cry that you weren't able to save Kuroi or Riko, you cry about how you couldn't kill the man that would've killed most of the people you knew— most of the people you care about.
"[N-Name]...?"
Suguru's voice sounds so weak. It sounds horse, like he's dehydrated, but it's there— God, Suguru's alive.
"'m sorry- was too weak- 'm so sorry S'gu!" You wail as the tears fall harder, your decently muscular arms wrapped around his torso as you wait for him to berate you, to yell at you for not killing that man when you had the chance.
"[Name]— It's okay, I just... fuck, okay, listen, it wasn't your fault, alright? He had a heavenly pact and from what I can see, you at least caused him to bleed." Suguru's hand wipes the blood on your cheek, his thumb presses against the grass to get the blood from that monkey off him.
"I'll check on Satoru, so wait here, okay?"
You don't have the heart to say no to him. You're too weak, too mentally fatigued to stand up and see the corpse of someone else you loved, someone else you cherished.
So you watch Suguru leave, accompanied by wet sniffles and dry wails, you curl in on yourself and wait obediently for someone to come get you.
You don't know if you're hallucinating, but you swear you see a patch of dark blue hair, blood leaking from Riko's the person's head before you pass out.
#writin' shit.#ANSWERED LETTERS — 004#jjk x male reader#male reader#geto suguru#geto x male reader#gojo satoru#gojo x male reader#jujutsu kaisen#suguru x male reader#satoru x male reader#satosugu x reader#🌈: anon!#aaa! kinda took a lot outta me (／。＼)#hope ya enjoy 🌈 anon! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡
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my dress up darling
• paring : satoru gojo x female!reader
• tags : mdni, smut, creampie, fem!reader, fingering, cosplay fucking kink?, nipple play, satoru cums before you. (i think thats it....)
• a/n : aaahhh im getting a nobara cosplay im so excited!! i got this idea while styling my yuuta wig soooo here you go i promise im working on part two of ¨do you even care?!" I just want to get this idea out of my noggin
• w/c : 743
you were a jujutsu sorcerer but your side hobby was cosplaying. your boyfriend was the strongest sorcerer out there and the strongest man of your generation. how did you pull him? god knows how.
you were currently cosplaying makima, gojos favorite fictional character. sitting on the couch looking for tiktok sounds since you always forget to do that before actually cosplaying.
gojo was currently in the kitchen which is across from the living room. you could feel his stare from his six eyes. "satoru what do you need?" you said as you looked over at him.
he groaned a bit as he walked over to you. you looked downwards and saw his growing erection in his sweatpants. you sighed. "satoru im not doing this right now."
he looked over at you with pleading eyes as he begged "please pretty baby" as he started to kiss allover your face and slowly down to your neck. you moaned as he hit a sensitive spot and he sat himself ontop of your lap.
he pushed you down onto the couch and kissed you long on the lips while pulling down your pants trying to make sure you wouldnt notice. you did definitely notice it but the pleasure rushing down your lips felt too damn good.
you pushed away from him for air and he thought you looked so damn hot with your makeup on and the way hes ruining your lipstick. watching you pant for more air.
he felt your wetness pool up in your underwear with his thumb. "damn girl you this wet just from a kiss?" he moved your underwear out of the way and plunged his digits in and started curling them as you went in for another kiss.
he finally hit your g-spot and you let out a big moan in his mouth. the way he can make you cum so quickly but just using his fingers is mind boggling. he started moving his lips down your neck and sucking hard, being sure to leave a hickey as he rubbed your clit with his thumb.
he kept moving his fingers in the right spots and you wanted so much more. you felt like you were about to cum soon. "t-toru g-gonna cum soon" those words only made him go so much faster. you were so overloaded, moans escaping your mouth quickly as satoru rubbed on your clit and continued to suck hickeys into your body. you felt yourself cum and let out a loud moan. you were catching your breath as he started to take off his own pants
you saw satoru take off his boxers and saw his full length. it was mesmerizing especially during your bliss state after you orgasmed. you looked desperate for his cock right now and he took that to his advantage. ¨aw pretty baby you want my cock? beg for it.¨ you were seriously bummed. you sighed and spoke ¨please satoru, please..¨ he seemed displeased but went with it.
he quickly shoved his length in and you moaned at the sudden, but feel-good pleasure. your walls clenched as he trusted in and out, skin slapping together as sweat formed on your forehead. the sweat felt 20x worse from you also having your wig on, but the pleasure was too good.
satoru led his hand under your shirt and started playing with your nipple. at the same time he took his other hand and started rubbing on your clit once again. all the overstimulation meant you felt your high coming soon, and it was coming fast. tears threatened to fall at the corners of your eyes.
satoru cummed before you, he groaned mixed with a moan a little? you couldnt tell. he was so much more aroused. he kept thrusting waiting for you to orgasm, which you did after a few more sloppy thrusts.
you both sat there in bliss. satoru leaned down and gave you a kiss. "thank you pretty, want me to run the bath." you sat there for a second spaced out while staring at the ceiling. satoru spoke your name soon again. "y/n?" you quickly got your attention taken back to satoru. "oh yeah sure." he slowly got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. before he walked in he went back and looked at you. "you okay?" you looked at him, a little anger boiling in your eyes as your blissful state wore off.
"you ruined my wig." and thats when satoru gojo felt true fear.
made by @belovedstarrs do not copy or use in any way without permission
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk anime#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo saturo#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#satorugojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#satoru smut#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk smut#cosplay
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what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭
“satoru,” you croak out.
your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.
you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.
“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”
“can you come home?”
“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”
“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.
“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”
“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”
your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.
but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.
there’s a pause.
you can hear satoru breathing.
“what?”
“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.
“what hospital?”
“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”
“okay.”
“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”
“are you driving?”
“yeah.”
“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”
your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”
“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”
“okay. i—i’m sorry.”
“why are you sorry?”
you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“
“you think this is you fault?”
“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“
“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“
“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”
“you can’t control when something bad happens.”
“i can’t—she’s—“
“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”
“you don’t know that.”
��i do.”
“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.
“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”
“why are you sorry?”
“i don’t know,” he whispers again.
“is ijichi there yet?”
“almost.”
“okay.”
“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”
“okay.”
“are you still driving, baby?”
“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”
“want me to stay on the phone?”
“yes.”
“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.
hoping that maybe it’ll come true.
though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#a typical family#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru x you
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Hi!! Can you do an angsty song fic for “hits different” with Gojo? Love the ts series !!❤️
hits different
satoru gojo x f!reader
**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series
content: older brothers best friend!satoru, teenagers being dumb teenagers, drinking, satoru calls reader belle, reader spends a fuck ton of money on toji's credit card
an: HELLO SWEETIE PIE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DA LOVE IM GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING IT SO FAR. this ended up at a 9k so I hope you enjoy pookie
--
present day
“Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?” he asks, his hands folded across his menu.
You close your own menu, setting it neatly on top of the plates, as you look over at him - the look in his eyes downright murderous. Granted, sticking your nose in the menu while he was trying to talk to you for the past twenty minutes couldn’t have helped, but he should cut you some slack. You’re really hungry.
It’s then and there that you see the look, that twitch in his right eye, and know exactly what’s going to happen. Toji Fushiguro, the accountant you’ve been dating for the last six months, is about to break up with you.
“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention when I talk to you, when I’m trying to sit here and tell you how I’m feeling.”
“Okay. So tell me how you’re feeling, Toji.”
He flares his nostrils, exasperated by your response. You thought it was polite. But you’ve been told your tone is downright argumentative, like grating nails on a chalkboard.
And then Toji lays out his final card, waiting for your broken expression.
“I’m breaking up with you. You-you and me. We’re done.”
No broken expression comes. Because you don’t let idiots like Toji think they have power over you, your feelings for even a second.
“Okay. Well, I still came here to eat dinner so could you pass me the main menu?”
You give him your best smile, sickly sweet, and it pushes him over the edge.
“Are you fucking serious? You’re not going to say anything to that? Anything at all? I just broke up with your pathetic ass and you don’t even feel a bit sad about it?”
You set the menu down again, crossing your wrists against your chest.
“Do you want me to, Toji? Because I can if you want me to.”
He gets even more frustrated, standing up at the table to yell his final words before he storms out.
“Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?”
“Please enlighten me. I’m dying to know.”
“You-you’re shit to be around. Literally the most frustrating, agitating, irritating person I’ve ever met. You can’t ever take anything at face value - you just argue and argue because it’s the only thing you know how to do. True love could knock on your door and you’d send it running away with that cold, dark heart in your chest. Because you’re hard to love.”
You clench your fists under the table, drawing blood against your palms.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t as agreeable as you wanted me to be. Surely the secretary you’ve been fucking for the last three months we were dating is a sweeter taste in your mouth than I am.”
“Wait, what-”
“If you’re going to fuck another girl while you’re dating me, make sure you don’t butt dial me while you’re doing it, sweetheart.”
He furrows his brow, ears pink from what you’re sure is embarrassment as he storms off. You turn your head over your neck, lifting your hand to signal Nobara, Megumi, and Itadori to join you at the table.
They all awkwardly take the empty seats at the table, Itadori immediately reaching for the free bread on the table and Megumi reaching for the bottle of wine.
“You okay?” Megumi asks, a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Toji has this really, really shit habit of leaving his stuff everywhere. His sunglasses, his keys, his wallet.”
You hold the wallet in the air, Nobara immediately snatching it from your hands and pulling out his credit card.
“No way.” she says, immediately running through the menu to find the most expensive thing to eat.
“He’ll cancel it tomorrow. So, we should make the most of it tonight.” you say, the three of them smiling back at you.
“You know, I’d feel half bad about this but he cheated on you for three months, so I really, really don’t.” Megumi says, ordering another bottle of wine.
Itadori puts his hand on yours, squeezing once as he asks.
“Are you sad about it?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, come on. She’s heartless. Ever since that idiot she dated from her hometown took her heart and went running with it, she’s been cold ever since.” Kugisaki says, spreading the leftover butter on the bread she just stole from Itadori.
“Exactly.” you say, smiling at the three of them.
You tilt the rest of your wine into the back of your throat, the sensation burning as you push it down.
You hate that after all these years, even the mention of him makes your head spin.
Satoru.
--
two years ago
“Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”
“Real clever, Getou. You really got me there.”
Getou immediately knocks you off your chair and starts wrestling with you on the ground - the two of you yanking each other’s arms and pulling each other's legs.
“Cut your hair, Getou. You look like a hillbilly with that uglyass manbun.”
“Check your attitude, Y/N. You’re getting bitchier as time goes on.”
You immediately reach up and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking hard as he elbows you in the eye. And you’re about to punch him straight in the stomach before you feel two arms around your waist, the hold firm, as you fight off the hold.
“That’s enough from you two, alright?” Satoru says, his voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.
“It’s not enough, Satoru. I need to give him a piece of my mind.”
“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind with your fist, princess?”
He finally lets you go, Shoko mimicking his actions as she lets Getou go on the other side of the kitchen. You’re both glaring bloody murder at each other, the stupid look on his ugly face only enraging you more.
“Quit calling me princess, it’s stupid.” you murmur, lifting your hands up to fix the mess Getou made of your hair.
“Cmon, Belle. Don’t be like that.”
You cringe at the nickname, even worse than princess, as the memory comes straight to your mind. Third grade. Halloween Eve.
You were going to be Cinderella for Halloween - all set with fake glass slippers and a sparkly blue dress and butterfly hair clips. But Getou and Satoru had come home straight from their soccer practice, all muddy and disgusting, and accidentally sat on your costume.
The pretty blue dress you had saved all your allowance on was ruined and along with it, your hopes of impressing Haibara - the guy that you had a crush on at the time.
Except Satoru, in his infinite kindness that he’s always shared with you, dragged you to the costume store the day after, his hands wrapped around your waist as he biked the two of you there in the scorching midday October heat.
“Do you guys have any Cinderella dresses left?”
“They’re all sold out. We’re so sorry, sir.”
As the clerk walks away, Satoru turns over to you, a giddy smile on his face.
“Did you hear that? That lady just called me sir.”
“Really funny, Satoru.”
You push him into the stand by the cashier, as you stomp to the other side of the store. You look up at the little catalogs, the sparkly blue dress in the picture with a red “sold out” sign stamped on top of it. He catches up, his hand soft on your shoulder, as he talks.
“Sorry we messed up your dress, Y/N.”
You can feel the tears building in your eyes as you start aggressively swiping them away, trying to hide the fact that you were crying in front of Satoru. Knowing him, he was just going to run home and tell Getou so the two of them could laugh at you.
“No, you’re not. You probably did it on purpose.”
“We didn’t, I-I swear.”
“Getou literally told me yesterday that he thought it was stupid I wanted to be a princess for Halloween. That girls like me aren’t princesses, because they have a rotten attitude. He said I should dress up as the Scream instead.”
You look over at the ghost mask - all elongated and scary - and it only sends more tears running down your face.
“Hey. You can still be a princess if you want to be.” he says.
“No, I can’t. Because you guys ruined the costume I already did buy. And I don’t have the money for another one because I-I spent my entire allowance on that costume.”
Satoru pulls out his wallet and brings his hand down to yours, placing the crisp dollar bills in your hand. You look over at him and he’s smiling - the tips of his ears pink.
“Now you have money for the costume.”
“There’s still no costume, dumbass.”
Satoru drags you down the aisle and points at the sparkly yellow dress, his hand now slung around your shoulder again.
“They still have this one.”
“Belle? You want me to be Belle?”
“You’re more of a Belle than Cinderella. Getou’s right in the sense that you’re a little bit too harsh to be a Cinderella type.”
“Geez. Thanks Satoru.”
“But you’re smart, ambitious, headstrong enough to be a Belle. Cinderella’s the type of bitch to always back down from a fight. Belle on the other hand fights for what she wants, like you.”
You look over at him and smile, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you biking back to the house with the sparkly yellow dress in the bag in between you guys.
“Just don’t fight to date a literal animal like Belle, okay? That’s bestiality.”
“Shut up, Satoru.”
You feel a hand on your head, shaking hard, and grounding you back in the moment. And at your irritation at Getou, who's still hurling insults at you from the other side of the room.
“She started it, Shoko.” he says.
“No, I didn’t. You’re the dumbass who-” you start.
“I’m so fucking sick of you, Y/N. You’re always fucking nagging me in some way or another. You know, I heard you crying the other day about how you’re the only girl in your class who's never had a guy like you. Maybe if you took a look in the fucking mirror you’d realize why. You’re insufferable to be around.”
You can feel the tears welling in your eyes - hot and angry - as you bolt straight out the door and down the street. You can faintly hear the three of them calling for you, but you reach straight for the bike on the curb and go as far as you can.
You make your way five blocks down from your house to eventually stop at the lake, resting the bike against the dock before you walk down. You take your shoes off and dip your feet in, watching the sun fall behind the water and the sky turn brilliant, beautiful shades of pink, orange, and yellow.
And when dark blue starts creeping in, you lay back against the dock and watch the stars trickle into the night sky, hundreds of tiny sparkling lights. Except your view of the sky is then obscured by Satoru’s face, upside down from your vantage point.
“Hi Belle.”
“Screw off.”
He sits down, taking his own shoes off and dipping his feet into the water to lie down next to you.
“Did you have to take my bike when you ran off? Yours was two feet away from it.”
“Closest one. Cry about it, Satoru.”
You both sit in silence, save for the sound of your feet splashing in the water as Satoru breaches the topic.
“Never had a guy like you, huh?”
“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? First, you watch Getou literally rip me a new one for no reason and now you’re here to rub it in my face?”
“You know that wasn’t what I was doing. Have I ever made fun of you like that?”
You sit up, running your hands through your hair, as you look down at the water, your leg sending ripples far beyond. You swallow hard, the tears rising to your eyes again.
“No, Satoru. I haven’t had a guy like me like that. I’m the only girl going into senior year who hasn’t been kissed by a guy.” you whisper, the confession making you turn red with embarrassment.
Satoru sits up, scooting closer to you so your knees are knocking each other, as you both look down at the water.
“So why’s that a big deal, Y/N? You’ve never cared about what people think, let alone men. I mean, you’re basically a misandrist at this point.”
You smile, looking over at his blue eyes, almost indiscernible in the dark of the night.
“It’s a big deal because I want someone to like me. I-I know that you all think I’m mean and I argue all the time and-and whatever, maybe it’s true. But, I want someone to like me. You know, butterflies, first kisses, someone who saves all their secret jokes for you.”
He puts his hand flat against your forehead, like he’s checking your temperature.
“You feeling okay? Who are you and what have you done with, Y/N?”
You shake his hand off, rolling your eyes at him, as you both laugh into the night.
“You’re so mean, Satoru. I hate you.”
He lifts one of his legs out of the water and turns to his side, so that he’s facing you. You mimic his motions, the look on your face bored as you look over at him.
“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to wound my ego a little bit, so don’t tell anyone okay?”
“You with a wounded ego? I would live for the day.”
He lightly nudges you before turning back down to the water, swishing the water with his legs.
“What you said isn’t true, Belle.”
“What part?”
“About going into highschool and not having a guy like you.”
“That guy who chased me around in first grade doesn’t count because he literally thought I was-”
He brings his hands down on your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that you can’t get another word out. His eyes are closed, his face only a few feet from yours.
“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” he whispers, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
You nod as he lets go, giving you a satisfied smile. He turns his head back to the water, leaning over the dock.
“That guy in first grade did like you. And I like you too.”
He looks over and smiles and it makes your blood burn. You lift your hands to cover your pink face, the implication of the entire thing making your stomach burn with anxiety, embarrassment, and the gross, mushy gushy feelings you’ve had for Satoru for years. For the boy who always came to your defense when you’re fighting Getou, always came to your aid when you were crying, and the only, only person you’ve never argued with.
“So quit crying about it, okay? My type has always been girls like you.”
“Girls like me?”
“Argumentative.”
You nod as Satoru stands up, holding his hand out. And ignore the pounding in your chest when his skin touches yours. You both walk your bikes - you pushing his bike and him pushing yours back down the blocks as you cheese at each other in the dark, sharing a secret smile before Satoru ducks back into Getou’s room.
--
three months later
You push up on the counter, swirling the cup of lemonade in your hand as you watch everyone mill around the party.
Your parents went out of town on a business trip. Getou throws the biggest party of the summer. And specifically tells you to stay in your room, because no one likes freshmen at a party.
Yet here you are, drinking lemonade and watching everyone mill around the party. Getou’s trying too hard to hit on a girl way older than him and Shoko and Utahime are so blatantly flirting that its giving you physical pain to watch them pine the way they are any longer.
But there’s one person you haven’t seen. Satoru.
He should have been back from his family trip to Tokyo for the summer since school was starting next week and there’s no way that he would miss anything that Getou and Shoko planned.
Even the thought of him makes your heart race, his swift admission of his feelings for you that were all but unrequited right before he left. You feel a tap on your shoulder, throwing you out of your thoughts.
“Hey. Can you hand me a cup?”
You halfheartedly smile as you reach over, handing her a cup from behind you. She gives you a smile as she swirls through the random potion Getou was serving - a dark purple color. You’re sure there’s an unfathomable amount of liquor mixed in and that it tastes disgusting.
“You want some?”
“I’m good. Getou poisoned that for all I know.” you mutter, which elicits a laugh from her.
“Interesting guy. He’s cute, right?”
You gag, the thought making the lemonade you just drank roll over in your stomach.
“Disgusting. He’s my older brother.”
She laughs, pushing up on the counter to sit with you and smiles.
“My bad. He’s ugly, downright horrendous.”
“Thank you.”
You smile as you look over at her, her eyes scanning the mess of people in front of you two.
“Oh shit. Wait, you’re Y/N, right? Satoru was talking about you.”
And any good feeling you have is now replaced with a green, jealous monster. And that part of you - the one that argues, the one that feels bitter, anger so powerfully is fighting its way out.
“Y-yeah. How do you know Satoru?”
“I don’t. I just met him upstairs. I almost puked in your room but he stopped me, helped me to the bathroom, and held my hair for a while while I threw up.”
“He’s a real nice guy, isn’t he?” you say, the sarcasm dripping from you voice.
Of course the asshole shows up to your house and flirts with another girl in your bedroom. Typical.
“Yeah. Cute too.”
Just then, Satoru and Getou walked up to you - with complete opposite expressions on their faces. Satoru is shining like the sun, his cheeks tinted pink which you’re sure is from drinking. And Getou’s glaring at you like there’s no tomorrow, his forehead scrunched up in irritation.
“Y/N.”
“Getou.”
“What are you drinking?”
“Lemonade.”
Getou snatches the cup from your hand and sets it down and by the look on his face, you know he’s about to start a fight with you.
“Are you fucking dense? That’s not lemonade, dumbass.”
“Do you think I was born yesterday, idiot? I took it from the unopened bottle in the fridge.”
“You shouldn’t be here right now. You’re too young to be here.”
“You’re one year older than me, Getou. And don’t throw a party in my house if you don’t want me here.”
Satoru puts a hand on Getou’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear until he gives you one last glare and walks away. Satoru gives you a big smile but before he can talk, the girl from before cuts him off.
“Do you want to dance now? I promise I got all my vomit out earlier so I won’t throw up this time.”
She gives him a big smile, and you swear Satoru’s considering it by the way he pauses and looks at her, which is enough said for you. You push up off the counter, telling them you’ll be right back and run off to the lake again, this time stealing Getou’s bike from the curb.
You’re pushing your legs so hard that they’re hurting, the tears biting cold against your skin from how fast you’re going in the middle of the night. And when you make it to the dock, you throw his bike against the grass and angrily kick your shoes off as you start taking your clothes off.
Is it a good idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night, alone? No. But is every human person that would come to this park at the party? Yes.
Which is the only reason you take the plunge and stare up at the moon, a tiny silver crescent in the sky. You hear a splash behind you after a few minutes and are met with Satoru, wet hair matted on his forehead.
“Find your own lake, weirdo.”
“You know. You shouldn’t skinny dip in public. People could see you.”
You look over to his pile of clothes and shoes, neatly folded in the pile next to yours.
“Same goes for you, pervert.”
You roll your eyes at him as you cross your hands across your chest, turning to your back so you don’t have to look at him. He’s faster than you are, because suddenly he’s floating right in front of you, inches from your face.
“Did I hurt your feelings, princess?”
“Quit calling me that. It’s disgusting.”
He brings his hands to your face, pushing away the tangled wet mess of hair on your shoulders.
“You like it when I call you that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do, Belle.”
“Satoru.”
“I’m not saying my piece till you say yours. And you want to hear mine, so talk.”
You take a deep breath as you look at his face - all calm and blank faced like he didn’t just do the biggest asshole move he could have.
“You’re a dick, you know that? First of all, you tell me all this shit about how you like me right before you leave. And then when you come back, the first thing I see is you talking to another girl? You were holding her hair in the bathroom, fondling god knows what in my bedroom and now you want to come here and skinny dip with me? I am not some consolation prize you get to have because she was bored of those ugly pool noodle dance moves you have and don’t ever think for a second that I will be.”
You finish, your chest heaving and a shiver running across your body from the cold water. And instead of a sincere, kind-hearted apology, an acknowledgement of what he did - Satoru Gojo is laughing in your face.
You reach forward to smack his face and he stops your hand in the air, tangling his fingers with yours.
“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”
“You’re so fucking r-”
“Fondling? Pool noodle? Where do you even come up with this stuff?”
He brings his hands up to your cheeks and leans your head forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You can feel your head short circuiting at the sensation, your arms tingling from how close he is.
“You’re so, so ridiculous you know that? I’m never going to get tired of you.” he whispers, the words making your hair stand on their ends.
“What-you can’t just say that and-”
“Why do you think I was in your room?”
“What?”
“I was in your room, because I was looking for you. And I thought I was being nice by stopping that girl from puking all over your sheets - because I know you hate laundry and Getou isn’t going to do it for you - so I took her to the bathroom.”
You can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face for misreading the situation entirely, taking the palms of your hands and rubbing them into your eye sockets. He laughs as he tangles his hands around your wrists, placing them around his own neck.
“Still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. When I saw you last. Are you still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. But I-”
“Good.”
He leans forward, tangling his hands around your waist as he presses his warm lips to yours, his hands squeezing you as he laughs into your mouth. You don’t have much to compare it to, but by the way he’s hanging off your lips, you can tell he’s eager. Way too eager - to be kissing you of all things.
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“I like you too.”
His face breaks out into a smile, so big that it makes you smile too. And when he cups his hand around your face again to kiss the tip of your nose, you can feel your insides screaming. For him.
“No telling Getou. He’s going to kill me, okay?”
“As if. He literally hates me, he’d be glad if-”
“No. He can’t know. You-you’re his little sister. If he finds out I even looked at you this way, he-he’d end me where I stand. Trust me, Belle. If I break my promise, he'll never talk to me again.”
“What promise?”
“When we were little. He made me promise I wouldn’t like you.”
“And yet here you are. Naked in a lake with me.”
“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.”
You lean into his touch again, pressing your lips against his, as the moon shines a bright light on the two of you in the dark.
--
four months later
You and Getou awkwardly stand in the kitchen, by the open bottles of champagne, as you both secretly circle the glasses behind your back. Getou has his moments - and this is one of them. When your parents put you on display like shiny trophies for their coworkers, bragging about how smart the two of you are.
“You decided where you’re going yet?”
“Tokyo or Kyoto, Toto.”
“Toto. Ew. You haven’t called me that since we were little, idiot.”
He brings his hand around your shoulder, tucking you into his arm as you lean against his shoulder, smiling. After Getou really realized you’d be leaving at the end of the year, he’s been nicer. Granted, he still fights like hell but he has his odd moments. Like this one.
“You’ll always be Get-toto to me.”
“I’ll get you a little Totoro plushie before you go, okay? So when those bastards you date fight with you, you’ll always be reminded you have a little bitch in you ready to fight.”
“Why are you praying for my downfall? You’re not gonna manifest a sweet, warm love for me?”
“Please. The guy you end up with will be all fireworks. Soft fireplace love has never been your thing.”
He ruffles your hair as Satoru walks up, his tie loosened already. He gives you a smile and then shakes hands with Getou, the three of you leaning against the granite countertops, watching your parents mingle through the crowd.
“D’you pick yet? Because Tokyo’s the right choice, Belle.”
“I’m still thinking, Satoru.”
“C’mon. Imagine it - you joining me and Getou in Tokyo. It would be really fun.”
Satoru’s just trying to piss you off. He knows that you’ve already picked Tokyo, because it means you don’t have to long distance date anymore. No more driving up to see each other in between, getting pulled away from each other by the constraints of time or distance or really anything else.
One of the smaller girls at the party tugs the end of your dress, whispering in her ear that she wants warm milk, which you happily oblige with. Satoru and Getou stay in their spots as you start rummaging through the kitchen, picking out a little glass and warming up the milk for her.
“Honey?”
“Yes, love?” Satoru responds, turning his gaze over to you.
You feel your eyes widen and Satoru’s face turn red as he looks over at you, realizing you were asking the girl if she wanted honey in her milk and not calling him. You both look over to Getou, who has a very strange look on his face that you can’t really discern.
Fuck.
You hand the girl her milk and stand farthest away from Satoru, giving Getou a weak smile as you all stare at the party again.
“Look. It’s Shayla.”
You and Satoru crane your necks over the other side of the room, one of your neighbors daughters saying hello to all the guests. Which you’re sure you’re getting to get a lecture about now, since you didn’t want to spend the time saying hi to all of them.
“Remember when you had a really big crush on her, Satoru? Since we were kids?”
“Uh, yeah. But I was just really little, y’know.”
You can feel your throat drying as Getou pushes on, each word making your heart burn in your chest.
“Yeah, but. She was basically your first love. Who forgets that? Who compares to that?”
“I don’t know if I would say she was my first l-”
“Then who is, Satoru? Because it’s not my sister, right?” he asks, his voice firm.
Satoru said that he would tell Getou when you officially announced you were going to Tokyo. Because once you lived in the same city, nothing would stop you from being with him - not even his best friend.
“No, no, why would it be her? She’s been annoying us since we were little, arguing with us and all that. You-you’re right. It is her. Shayla’s always been my type.” he says, his gaze lowering to the floor.
You feel your heart sink, twist into a jumbled mess as Getou smiles and gestures for her to come over. There’s a fair amount of protests from Satoru as she walks over, which you know is him trying to save face. He deals his final blow the second she walks up, definitively and wholly breaking your heart into pieces.
When Getou starts setting the two of them up. When Satoru actually takes her number down. When she presses a kiss to his cheek and winks before she walks away.
“I have to pee, Toto. Cover for me?”
“Yeah, got it.”
And the second you walk away and Getou watches you wipe the tears from your face as you walk past, Getou knows he’s right.
“Getou. You have to-”
“No, Satoru. Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Wait, what- you can’t just-”
“She’s my little sister. She’s not some toy you get to play around with till you figure out how you feel. And you don’t get to embarrass her by hiding her away either.”
“We were going to tell you when she told you she’s going to Tokyo. You-you’re the reason I hid her away. I’ve liked her for years and I put that away because you didn’t want me with her. And now I-”
“Don’t blame your shortcomings on me. Even if you did have to hide it in front of me, I would never call the girl I loved annoying to her face and throw everything she’s hated about herself in her face to make a point.”
“I didn’t- Getou you’re the one who made her hate that about herself and-”
“You love her?”
“Obviously. Why would I go to the trouble of hiding something when-”
“Talk to her again and I will literally break your face. In what world do you treat someone you love like that?”
As Satoru watches Getou walk away and thinks about how hard you’re crying upstairs, he realizes he’s in his worst nightmare. Losing his best friend and the girl he loved on the same day.
You and Satoru make promises that day.
He promises that he’ll wear his heart on his sleeve from this day forward. You promise that you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can ever touch it again.
--
present day
“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Itadori says, pushing the paper into your space.
“And you suck at tic-tac-toe.” you respond, sliding it back.
Nobara and Megumi laugh as the three of you sink back into your chairs in the back of the conference room, your marketing manager droning on about stocks, the future of the company, and god knows what as you try to drone him out and focus on winning your seventh round of tic-tac-toe with Itadori. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much.
“And lastly, we’ve employed a new marketing manager to work with the sales team. The four of you back there can decide who he’s going to be working with for onboarding.” says Ijichi.
You nod as the four of you turn to each other, matching smirks on your face.
“Rock paper scissors?” Nobara asks.
“Deal.”
It’s not that you’d hate to work with the new marketing manager. But the past three marketing managers were driven out by the end of the month because of you guys.
Megumi was too harsh with the first girl, who left crying when he asked her if she got her marketing degree from a trash can. Nobara drove the second guy away when she found out he chewed too loudly while eating lunch, claiming that he wasn’t a good fit for the company. And Itadori drove the last girl away, because she fell in love with him and he didn’t return her feelings, which made her resign the next day.
“You know, logically. It’s your turn.” Megumi says, holding his fist up to Itadori.
“Nope. We honor the rock paper scissors tournament in this friendship.
You mince your words four rounds later because you’re the pouty loser getting stuck with the stupid marketing manager. You slide back into your chair as you massage your temples, preparing yourself for the upcoming headache for the next month.
Either a lover, an incompetent idiot, or a loud chewer.
Nobara and Itadori sling their hands around your shoulders, pinching your cheeks, as Ijichi swings the door open and the marketing manager walks in. He readjusts his tie - loosely hanging from his neck - and when you lift your head to actually make eye contact with him, you immediately sit up in your chair, your skin burning.
Because Satoru Gojo is no longer six thousand miles away in Tokyo - out of sight and out of mind. He’s three feet away from you - taller, older, and more attractive than the time you saw him last.
Everyone files out of the conference room, leaving the two of you standing miles away from each other, with you refusing to meet his eye. He walks up and holds his hand out, a shy smile on his face.
“Satoru Gojo.”
You put your hand in his - the touch warm, soft, all the way you remembered it.
“Y/N L/N.” you respond, mimicking his voice.
“Y/N, huh? You look more like a Belle to me.” he responds, smirking as he walks out to your cubicle labeled right across.
You stomp right out, following him into your cubicle, as he takes the seat across from yours and starts eating the candy in your jar. You roll your eyes as you smack his hand, the smile on his face so big it's pissing you off.
“Just so you know, there’s a very notorious reputation for running out the idiot who takes your position. And trust me, I’ll have you out by the end of the week.”
“Is that a challenge, princess?”
“You can’t flirt with me. I’m technically your boss, Satoru.”
“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” he says, sticking one of your caramel candies in your mouth before pushing off your desk and making his way down the other side of the office.
Six hours later, you’re face planting into the table at dinner, the words echoing through your mind. Along with all the memories you buried deep, deep down and tried to forget. Of running off to the lake all summer, Satoru washing your hair softly in the showers after, of nestling up in his arms to call it a day.
Of Satoru rubbing circles into your back every time you fought with someone, of you kissing him after every fight he had with his dad, of whispering I love you against each other's lips like it was a sacred oath.
“You look horrible.” Megumi says, sharing a judgemental look with Itadori.
“Shut up.”
“It’s just one of those lame interns. Just do what Nobara did - say he smells bad.” Itadori responds, the three of them laughing.
You dig your forehead into your forearms, only lifting your head to drink more of Itadori’s beer, as the thoughts race through your head.
In all honesty, the problem has always been easy to avoid. Two years ago, Satoru smashed your heart into tiny pieces. You decided that you wouldn’t go to Tokyo or Kyoto like you planned and picked up everything and moved to New York instead.
You didn’t say goodbye. To him or to anyone. Your parents drove you to the airport and Getou gave one of those weird, repressed older brother hugs and then you turned on your heel and never went back.
You have a nice job. Friends who love you. Your dating life is abysmal at most - a long stream of guys you’ve ghosted, fought, and broken up with. Unfazed, unperturbed - calm, cool, and collected.
It doesn’t bother you. Because you stuck by your promise. That you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can touch it. But it only takes five minutes of interaction with him and you can feel the concrete walls around your heart turning into clay, softened by the sweetness he’s always possessed, the softness he’s always shared with you.
You have to drive him out of here as fast as you can.
--
Seven weeks later and Satoru remains at the company, steadfast and true.
It drives you crazy, having him around. So up in your space, his smell lingering in your cubicle even after he walks away. He makes stupid jokes that make you smile so hard that you’re fighting the tears in your eyes and flirts with no shame like it’s breathing air.
All in all, he’s everything you loved about Satoru, in your head again. In an even more attractive body, because of course time is nice to the asshole and he’s fit in all the right places.
You ignore him the best you can, until you can’t anymore.
You make it down to the parking lot, your high heels in your hand as you unlock your car and start loading your stuff into the trunk.
That’s when you see him, slumped against his car with the hood popped open, with a very, very confused look on his face. You clear your throat loudly, which catches his attention.
“Oh. Heading out late, Y/N?”
“Looks like it. You?”
“Ah. I actually meant to leave early today but my car hasn’t been starting so.”
You take one look at his pouty face and give in. You slam the trunk of your car shut and whisper the words out, so fast that you can’t even think to regret them.
“Get in the car.”
“Huh?”
“Get in the car, Satoru. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of the weekend, then be my guest.”
He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen as he all but jogs over and settles into the front seat of your car, slumping down in the seat that’s pushed all the way up. You back up out of the parking garage as he plugs in the address for his apartment, a modest thirty minutes away from the office.
“You know, you can move the chair back. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do.”
He laughs and you see his shoulders deflate as he adjusts the seat, his long legs now spread in the open compartment underneath him.
“What a shame. I’m into that type of thing, Y/N.”
“Always the perverted one, weren’t you?” you respond, smiling over at him.
Stop it, Y/N. Stop it.
“Who the hell sits up here anyway? A toddler?”
“Oh. It was just this guy I was talking to. He was really short but he always felt the need to monitor my driving so he pulled the seat all the way up to watch the lines.” you respond, turning left onto the street.
“Ah. One of your many romantic escapades, so I’m told. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the player, Y/N.” he says, leaning against the glass.
“Learned from the best, Satoru. Except this time, I don’t get overinvolved.” you respond.
He laughs, leaning back in the chair as you both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension hanging in the air eating at your skin. It hangs in the air, like an embarrassing elephant in the room.
Satoru’s the one who pokes it.
“Then, you should get involved with me. Again.”
You keep your promises to yourself. But Satoru keeps his too. An oath to wear his heart on his sleeve is translated into him fighting to get you back.
You slam the breaks so hard that his forehead goes straight into the sun visor, a groan leaving his mouth. You apologize and immediately reach forward, cupping the side of his face and eyeing the angry red mark on his forehead.
“Yikes. I’m sorry, Cyclops. That caught me off guard.”
“Be careful, there. Almost thought you cared for a second.” he says, smirking.
You park the car in front of his apartment and look out the window, the words making your head spin.
“You know, I can tell you want to.” he says.
You turn around and frown, reaching forward to flick into the soft skin of his cheek.
“Please. You’re not even all that-”
“You brushed your hand against mine when we walked to the conference room. I caught you staring at me during the company lunch on Thursday. And I know you just stopped talking to the short guy because Itadori told me. What’s the worst that could happen?”
--
The worst has happened. Because for the second time, you are irrevocably and deeply in love with Satoru Gojo.
Maybe you never stopped.
Just like you were when you were seven, you’re incredibly drawn to him, like two magnets being pulled together. What was supposed to be one date, one lousy hookup like every other guy you’ve talked to in the past year turned into a complicated, mushy gushy feelings mess.
You stayed over at his house that night. But then he was shirtless, singing in the kitchen as he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. And little by little, he’s crawled into every little part of your life.
He insists on driving you to work, buying you a sugary overpriced latte you would never splurge on for yourself and a pastry to go with it on the way. He claims he doesn’t want any but reaches over the seat to take a bite and then press a chocolatey kiss to your lips.
He hangs out with you and your friends after work. And like always, he always backs you up in the thousands of petty arguments he has with each of them and then tells you that it turns him on when he drives you home.
He draws little shapes into your skin every night, asking you to guess the little drawings he’s making while his soft, smooth voice lulls you to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t help but watch him, the little freckles he had when he was seventeen still the same.
It makes your heart warm. The soft feelings you’ve always had for him, they make you warm.
Which is why you curse yourself for ever thinking things could be different, when he drops the ball three months later.
“Can you drive me to the airport on Friday, princess?” he asks, his breaths tickling your nose.
“Where are you going, Toru?” you murmur, burrowing yourself deeper into his skin.
“Home. The job posting was temporary, remember?” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.
“Oh. Are- you’re not going to look for a job here?’
“Nah. Time’s up right?” he says, the question hanging in the air.
And when you wake up the next morning, to find him in your kitchen with a bowl of cereal all poured out for you and a bouquet of flowers, you can’t help but yell at him. After the shit he pulled last night.
“You should probably go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. Since you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“We can do it tomorrow, Belle. Most of my stuff is here anyway.” he says, holding the bowl close to his mouth as he leans over the counter.
“I can’t take you tomorrow. Megs said he will so you can ask him for help. He-he’s actually on his way now to get you.” you murmur, crossing your hands against your chest.
He frowns, coming up close to you to wrap his arms around you which you quickly side shuffle out of. You push past him and walk into the kitchen, clutching the countertop hard. Satoru smiles to himself before he turns around, knowing he’s won the war.
“Do you want me to stay, Belle?”
You roll your eyes, the audacity of him even suggesting that just pissing you off more. Irritated, because of course he said that. Agitated, because he can read you like a book.
“No, Satoru. Go home.”
“You sure? Because it seemed like-”
“Do you really think it would bother me if you left, Satoru? Do you really think you’re different from any other guy I talked to?”
Satoru frowns, the angry look on your face the opposite of the love-struck, warm confession he was expecting. But then again, this was you. Argumentative to your core - so he just needs to wrangle it out of you.
“I know I’ve been here longer than the rest of them, that’s for sure.”
“And do you think that makes you special, Satoru? Do you sincerely, genuinely think any of that means I would want you to stay right now?”
“Well, wait- I’m not just any other guy now, you and I, we-”
“We what? Have history? A long term fling doesn’t make us soulmates, Satoru.”
“That wasn’t a fling. You and I were-”
“You and I were no different than what we are now, Satoru. You should have known to not get over involved. I told you from the start that this is how it would be. You leaving didn’t faze me the first time and it won’t faze me the second time either, sweetheart.”
Satoru moves past you, yanking his hoodie on and grabbing his key off the hook as he swings the door open. And when he shuts the door behind you, his tear-stained face being the last thing you see, you sink onto the floor and can’t help but sob.
For the first boy you ever loved. Who burned you so bad, that you burned him too. Who soothed over every angry, irritating, argumentative part of you, until it was something you unleashed on him too.
You wonder why you let yourself into these sinkholes in the first place.
--
“Hey, man. Have a safe flight home, okay? It was nice getting to know you.” Itadori says, lugging the last of Satoru’s luggage out of the back.
Satoru gives Itadori one last hug before Megumi starts lugging his bags into the terminal with him, the intense feelings from the day prior still hanging on his chest.
“You-you’ll take care of her right? After I’m gone?” Satoru asks, as he pulls into the line.
“Who?”
“Y/N.”
“Oh. Yeah, I will. This time around though, I’m not letting Itadori and Nobara invite her to the bar.”
Satoru smiles, the thought of you drunk, making his heart ache. One of his many favorite sights is you on your fourth glass of wine - when your lips are all pink and when you climb all over him, whispering the corniest, cheesiest things that come to mind.
“Princess. You’re kind of cutting off my circulation here.”
“Sss-sorry, Satoru. Wanted to get closer.” you whisper, tangling your arms around his neck and readjusting in his lap.
“What’s closer than this princess? You’re literally on top of me right now.” he responds, cupping your face to push the hair away from your face.
“Not close enough.”
“The only thing closer than this is if you crawled into my skin and became a part of my bloodstream.”
“Is there a way to do that? Because I would.”
“You wanna be that close to me, huh princess?”
“Even when I’m sitting right next to you, right on top of you, literally skin to skin - I still can’t get enough of you. I want to be this close, all the time.”
Satoru shakes the memory from his mind as the people behind him gesture him to move forward in line, his heart hanging heavier in his chest.
“She always drinks too much, doesn’t she?” he says.
“Well, yeah. It’s usually funny. But now she’s going to go back into her moping, angsty teenager phase for the next seven months. I’ll probably be dragging her out of that bar on her legs, for all I know.”
“Y/N? Angsty? That’s real funny.”
“No, I’m telling you. When we first met her, all this girl did was cry in the bar. Her sadness was like…contagious or whatever it was making me depressed. One time she sang All Too Well, on the countertop while sobbing until the bartender literally had to kick her ass out.”
“The first guy she dated when she moved here was that bad, huh?”
“No. Itadori and Nobara have this running theory, they’ve been trying to figure out who he is for a while. The one thing we know for sure is that he’s definitely from her hometown and that she broke up with him right before she moved here.”
And that’s when Satoru gets it. That you’re a goddamn liar. And that you definitely did want him to stay.
Satoru does the only thing he can. Drops everything and runs straight out the airport to make his way back to your apartment. He’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice.
--
You look up from your spot, sprawled on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor, when you hear a key turn in the lock. You immediately sit up to find Satoru, an almost angry look on his face, when he storms in and bends down in front of you.
“Forget your diapers, grandpa?”
“Shut up, Y/N.”
“It’s a long flight. You don’t want to have an accident do you?”
He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing hard so you can’t get another word. And what he says next, the same words he uttered to you in that stupid lake, sober you u pearl fast.
“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?”
You swallow hard as he gives you a satisfied smile, giving him a soft nod.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“God, Satoru. Just quit it with this shit, I already told you no and I mean-”
“You also told me that it didn’t faze you when we broke up the first time. But then I find out, you were slurring my name in bars and crying about it for months.”
“So? Do you want a cookie or something?”
“So you’re a liar. And now I want to know the truth. Do you want me to stay?”
His eyes are burning, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. The gaze itself is piercing, making the ends of your hair stand up on your arms and legs. You shake his hand off your face as you stand up, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen.
“I don’t want you to stay.”
“Yes, you do. You’re lying, Y/N.”
“No, I’m not. One measly piece of information my friends mention in passing doesn’t mean it’s about you, Satoru.”
He brings his hands around your wrist, curling his fingers around the skin and squeezing twice.
“I made the dumbest mistake of my life. I had an opportunity, a real one to be honest about how I felt and I fucked it up, okay? I’ve regretted it every day since you walked away. You were going to go to school - with me. We were going to be together. But then you picked up everything and move to the other side of the fucking planet to halfheartedly date all these guys without a care in the world.”
“What does stating facts do for you, Satoru? What is it you want me to say?”
“You know what I want to hear. Say it, Belle.”
“What? That I left because of you? That I loved you so much that it made my heart hurt? That every second I’m around you it only feels like my love gets bigger for you? That the only person I can’t bring myself to get over is you? Because what does me saying that do for me because you’re just going to-”
Satoru smiles before he closes the space between you, pushing you into the counter and cradling your cheeks in his hand. He’s leaning into the kiss, so hard that you can feel almost his entire body weight on you as his lips press against yours.
He’s shaking hard and smiling into the kiss, pulling you back in every time you try to stop, his hands running in your hair as he laughs into your mouth.
“Was it so hard to tell me that you wanted me to stay?” he whispers, giggling into your ear as he presses kisses into your neck.
“Was it so hard to tell me you wanted to? You just had to come have this big moment with me here when-”
“Yes, I did. You deserved a big, lengthy love confession when you were seventeen, at that stupid party. I’m trying to do right by you through this dramatic shit now.”
“Because this is doing right by me? Making me cry and then running back?”
“It’s romantic, princess. I ran out of an airport for you.”
“After we argued. That kind of puts a damper on it.”
“Oh, shut up. You know argumentative girls have always been my thing.”
You place your hands around his face, yanking his head out of the crook of your neck as you hold his face in your hands, the skin soft. He still has all the little freckles, the same eyes and nose that you loved when you were seventeen.
That you love. You love him.
“Satoru.”
“Yeah?”
“How did you get a key to my house?”
He rolls his eyes as he breaks out of your hold, sticking his tongue out at you.
“That would have been a really sweet moment for a confession. You ruined it, princess.”
You smile as you make your way into his arms again, looking up at him from his hold.
“I made a copy of your key, Y/N.”
“That’s illegal, Toru. Breaking and entering.”
“You like to argue. I like to break rules. Everyone has their vices.”
You bring your hands back up to his cheeks again, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks as you press a kiss to the side of his cheek.
“Isn’t love the greatest vice, Toru?” you whisper.
“Maybe for me. Every normal thing hits different when it comes to you.” he says, closing the space between you two again.
--
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Springtime Fushiguros♪
Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.
Basically im traumatized by all the stuff going on in jjk universe, so imma create my own happiness.
The pink cherry petals covered the grounds, sweet smell lingering in the air, distant laughs of some family echoed from the field you were wandering in, thinking about the reason, he might have called you here.
Satoru gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to be alive suddenly called you last night, after having months of no conversation. He said he needed a favour from you, what on the earth could it be?
It couldn't be related to any sorcery since you weren't in this field, atleast now you weren't. Moreover, he has the potential to wipe out an entire country with his limitless. He is the first member in his clan to inherit six eyes, his birth distorted the balance of the world. What favour would he need from someone like you?
Or maybe it's the higher ups!
Your eyes widened, chest tightened, almost struggling to take a proper breath at this thought. There's no way this would happen. You had been carefull. Carefull not to let it out.
'Sup!' your thoughts were cut short by the voice of the white haired guy, as you turned to face him. He was in his regular student uniform. Eyes as deep as the mysterious blue sea peeked from the sunglasses. He had a playful face as always, though you sensed something off in it and you knew what it was. Others might not notice but you do. You always have.
'I might not be much of help yk right?' you smiled a bit at him nervous at what demand he might make.
'Ahh, it's not something like that. I'm not forcing you, but—' his voice trails, maybe finding right words, 'I would like you to take care of someone.' He hesitated a bit, rubbing his hand on his neck, his eyes directed to a bench on the field.
Your heart skipped a beat.
Two kids. A glum faced boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, and a cute girl who seemed a bit older than the boy. They are probably siblings.
You should have known he was never yours.
'Zeni'ns.' he said fixing his sunglasses. The girl smiled a bit at you which you gladly reciprocated, while the guy refused to glance you a look. 'Umm, what did you say?' you asked again, not paying much attention before, busy observing the kids. (Not to mention your heart which was breaking in pieces)
'They are zeni'ns.'
'Zeni'ns?? They are not your kids?'
Gojo be like-: ಠಿヮಠ
'I'm 18. How could you expect me to have my own kids?' he said being sceptical.
A brief wave of relief washed your nerves. 'Oh' you couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your overthinking.
'They are Fushiguros—' gojo started to explain when, 'you just said that they were zeni'ns.'
'Would you lemme finish? They are basically toji's kids. He took in his late wife's last name.' a shudder ran through your spine at the mention of his name. How can he be so calm while talking about it?
He continued, 'Before his death, he mentioned about his kid, Megumi. Megumi fushiguro. The kid is about to be sold to the zenin clan.'
'But he's just a kid!'
'yeah, I don't think none of us would want that. So, i would take care of that and the financial support of both Megumi and his step sister Tsumiki fushiguro. But the problem is I won't be there all the time to look at them, as I'm continuously assigned with new missions.'
'So, you want me to supervise? I can do that, but I can't be much to prote—' he cuts off your words.
'Nah! Don't worry about that. I will protect the three of you. I want us to raise them together. While we date.'
You could believe your ears, when he said the last part. You had always liked satoru gojo, and once even drunk confessed him, embarrassing yourself to death. He never answered that though. Everything after that took a form of such stormy blunder. Satoru had to go through all those horrible situations, losing someone very close to him. A memory you hate and desperately want to trade. Everything fell apart and you all drifted away. And when you decided to leave, for everyone's safety including yours, satoru wasn't there.
'kk. I will help you raise them.' you gladly accepted, shooting a kind look at the kids. This was a dream come true to you. A family. You desired it desperately, wanting to have a family, ever since you lost yours.
'Thanks. Move in with me then.'
'Sure.' you smiled to yourself.
And that was the first time you saw Megumi and Tsumiki fushiguro, taking them in, staring your new life with Satoru gojo.
A new trail of memories are yet to be traced in the springtime of your life.
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#jjk megumi#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu sorcerer#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen x megumi fushiguro#satorugojo#megumi fushiguro#gojou satoru x reader#megumi x reader#springtime fushiguros
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