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#long shot gojo fic
bnpd · 1 month
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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
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SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .
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PT. 1 : PT. 2
Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work. 
“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.
“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.” 
You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”
You think it over.
You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game. 
“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”
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“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.” 
Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team. 
The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.
“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable. 
“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.
“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers. 
You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all. 
“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”. 
Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed. 
Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line. 
“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”. 
Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration. 
“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.” 
Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss. 
The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko. 
“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”
Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.
She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game. 
The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look. 
“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.
More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores. 
You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board. 
“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board. 
The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.” 
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Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart. 
“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone. 
He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.
“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile. 
A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game. 
“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him. 
Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”
He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.  
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You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received. 
“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class. 
“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her. 
“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look. 
Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”
“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?” 
You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.” 
“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye. 
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The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up. 
After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store. 
You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head. 
You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas. 
You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.
You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.
You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look. 
You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh. 
But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking. 
“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player. 
“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.
Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it. 
“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.
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You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather. 
You never could handle the cold.
Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that. 
You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.
You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark. 
“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you. 
Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.
A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.
You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain. 
The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.” 
Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.
“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time. 
You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is. 
You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth. 
“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.
A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.
“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.
“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.
You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances. 
Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”
Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight. 
When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.
The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.
But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general. 
After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures. 
Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity. 
“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.
A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.
Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.
“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”
You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.
He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood. 
“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.
“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.” 
You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.
You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories. 
There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities. 
You can’t imagine the burden he must carry. 
One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.
His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself. 
A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features. 
Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.
How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.
You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away. 
After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.
Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?” 
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You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts. 
You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow. 
Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room. 
“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?
She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing. 
“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent. 
Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.
“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.
“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title. 
‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’
 “These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.” 
You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.
You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—” 
“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.
She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night. 
“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?” 
Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.” 
She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.
You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded. 
What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party. 
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Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow. 
You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours. 
“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you. 
“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”
“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes. 
Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.
“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question. 
“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you. 
“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.
“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.” 
Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think. 
“I think I need a shot.” You mutter. 
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“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”
You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it. 
You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height. 
The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world. 
As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing. 
“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together. 
“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses. 
Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?” 
“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”
You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”
You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile. 
“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it. 
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?” 
You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”
“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says. 
“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”
Non-profit? Working with?
“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone. 
Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says. 
“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.” 
Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it. 
“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”
“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes. 
You think you might have to kill yourself after this.
Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?” 
“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.
“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”
To jump off a cliff? Absolutely. 
Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.
You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.
Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you. 
But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.
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“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.
A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?” 
“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup. 
“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”
“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”
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And she did. 
The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence. 
He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction. 
Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.
“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.” 
“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them. 
“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”
“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin. 
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Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move. 
From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part. 
She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship. 
And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together. 
Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful. 
“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”
“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”
She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.
At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.
You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.
But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be. 
You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?
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emotionalmessss · 1 year
Text
Plaything
A/N: sukuna one-shot after my small hiatus from writing. I'll be looking over my requests and changing up my rules a bit, but enjoy!
Synopsis: studying with Yuji doesn't go as planned when sukuna decides to make a surprise appearance.
Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight yandere, slight violence, all sorts of bodily fluids, angst I guess, forced, size difference, sukuna is an ass. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word count: 6.7K
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“Yuji!” I called out from the living room. “Yuji!” 
I fiddled with the pen that was tucked between my fingers as I waited for any sort of answer. I couldn’t think of a worse person to teach than Yuji. He could barely sit still for more than a few minutes before his mind wandered and he grew fidgety. I was previously enjoying my Friday afternoon at home, and alone, before Gojo called to inform me that my plans were going to change. 
Not that I entirely cared, I could use the company from- 
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a slam coming from the adjoined room of my apartment.
“Fuck.” I groaned and caught the pen in my palm, giving it a tight squeeze before glancing up at the doorway.   
“Get your ass out of the kitchen now!” I demanded, raising my voice since my previous call to him was ineffective. 
My legs folded awkwardly beneath my body as Yuji came rushing out of the doorway - a bag of chips and cookies tucked under his arms as he watched me with widened eyes. My eyes glided over his face with a look of disapproval, my lips pulled straight as he jumbled the contents in his hands. 
“Are you done raiding my pantry?” My lips shifted into a sarcastic smile. “Food can wait.” 
“Training was hard! Maki had us working overtime today.” He pouted as he began walking towards the couch. He dropped the cookies onto the table, but gripped the chips like he thought it was going to be his last meal. 
I reached down for the papers and shook them in his face. “That doesn’t mean you can slack off on your school work!” 
He flinched, his hands shooting up to block his head from my banter. “I can’t think on an empty stomach!” Yuji gave me a nervous smile, his eyes closing as he chuckled. 
I tossed the papers onto the table. “You can’t think regardless.” I poked playfully at him. 
“Hey!” Yuji pouted as he ripped open the bag of chips. I watched as he fished a handful out and shoved them into his mouth. Crumbs fell from his lips and onto his black slacks - I guess he changed back into his uniform after working with Maki and Panda.  
“It’s true.” I fully turned to look at him, adjusting myself on the couch. “Not all your learning can be done in the field.” I watched as he dug his hand into the bag again and leaned over towards the textbooks and papers in front of us. 
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, his lips pulled back into a frown as he looked down at the work he fell behind on. He squinted for a moment before looking back up at me. “Oh! You know what would be great?” Yuji quipped, seemingly attempting at stalling. 
“What would that be?” Another heavy sigh came out. 
“Some tea! It could help us relax and -” 
I cut him off with a laugh, swatting the back of his head gently. “I’ll make some tea after we finish the first page.”
Yuji let out a small groan of annoyance, his mouth pulling down into a frown. I watched patiently as his head tilted down in acknowledgement. Another smile pulled at my lips as he situated himself on the couch, hunching over slightly as he read over the pages. I had met Yuji a few months back, along with Nobara and Megumi. We all got along well, and had frequent missions all together. But I grew closer to Yuji than I did with everyone else. His mannerisms were often like a child, always smiling and giddy. I found it difficult to remind myself that he is the vessel of a thousand year old curse that has a taste for blood and chaos. 
Ryoumen Sukuna. The King of Curses.   
I glanced over at Yuji slowly, watching as he worked through the readings and questions at a decent pace. He’d be faster if he didn’t second guess himself so much. He was smarter than he let on. He hadn’t even asked me for help yet - too stubborn to seek help from others. 
Yuji trained almost every day with Gojo and Maki, upping his strength and keeping Sukuna at bay. I was astonished at his drive to succeed and rid the world of curses. He seemed to be unfazed by the monster hidden deep within his subconscious. 
Megumi told me about the first time he met Sukuna, through Yuji’s body of course. He told me that he felt like he couldn’t even breathe, like all of the air was suddenly sucked out of the air by just being in his presence. His cursed energy was on a whole other level, even when he wasn’t in his true form. Megumi explained that it was one of the few times where he didn’t know what to do. Should he exercise the boy who impulsively consumed one of those wretched fingers? Should he call for help? Should he run? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like. I didn’t even want to. 
Thinking about it made my stomach churn and my mouth dry up-  
“Y/N?” I heard his voice call out. 
My vision came back into focus as I turned to glance at the salmon hair coloured boy. “Hm?” 
“You kinda zoned out there, are you okay?” 
Oh, nothing really. Just lost in thought about the blood thirsty curse hidden deep in your body that liked to come out at the worst of times. Nothing much, you know. I monologued to myself, keeping my expression blank. 
“I was just thinking of making us some tea now.” I forced a small smile and brushed a stray hair out of my eyes. I didn’t want to concern Yuji with my own paranoia, he faced enough of it from the Elders and everyone else that came into contact with him. 
He watched me, carefully studying my facial expressions to see if I was hiding anything. 
“I have this new one that I just bought, I think you’d like it.” I pushed myself up from the couch, not wanting to cause Yuji to worry more than he already did. I carried myself over to the doorway and paused for a moment to look back at him, “you’re doing great with your work. I was watching the entire time.” I flashed another smile, which caused Yuji’s expression to mirror my own from the praise. 
“Thanks, y/n.” 
I gave a small nod before disappearing into the kitchen. I needed a minute to myself, and couldn’t understand the sudden anxiety creeping up inside my subconscious. It’s not like I was in any danger being around him. I spent more time with Yuji than I did with anyone else, he almost spent more time at my apartment than his own dorm. 
Still, with all the reassurance that I engraved into my head, I couldn’t help but feel a gnawing anxiety in the back of my head. Christ, what was going on with me?  
As I waited for the tea to brew, I peeked into the living room. 
Yuji leaned over the table, pen in hand, and his free hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked through his readings and questions silently. He huffed slightly and I realized that he was probably stuck somewhere and that I would need to guide him. 
My attention focused back on the tea, which I now poured into two glass mugs. The liquid steamed and smelt wonderful. I balanced them both in my hands and made my way back over to the living room. Yuji still sat in the same position, frowning deeper. 
“Stuck?” I asked, placing down the mug beside him and plopping back onto the couch. 
“Yeah, I don’t understand this.” He pointed down. 
I leaned over beside him, pulling my skirt further down my legs as I did so. “Oh, that’s easy.” I began walking him through the readings and explaining the questions a little deeper. He seemed to be getting a hang of it pretty quickly. He was definitely smarter than he let on.      
“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.” I muttered, sipping at my tea. 
Yuji turned to look at me, a small blush creeping up at his cheeks as he let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re just saying that. Besides, there’s no way that I could get this done without your help.” He reached for his mug, taking a small gulp before grimacing. 
“What is it?” I asked before it dawned on me. “Oh right. You like honey in your tea.” I jumped off the couch before he could say another word, rushing off to grab the jar from the cupboard. 
I reached up for the little jar that was tucked away behind the other cans and nonperishables. As soon as I grabbed it, my ears caught the noise of a small clattering coming from the other room. I dropped flat on my feet and glanced over in the same direction. 
“Yuji?” I called out, walking towards the noise. “Are you okay?” 
I peered around the corner slowly, sticking just my head out. “Yuji?” I looked over at the now empty couch. His papers and snacks were sprawled out everywhere and his cup of tea was knocked over, dripping onto the floor. 
My attention drifted over to the front door, which was still shut and locked from earlier. 
“Yuji, quit messing around.” I stood in the doorway now, my eyes searching for any sign of him. Was he trying to freak me out? He usually fooled around like this, but he was so engaged in his work; jumping out and scaring me seemed like it would be the last thing on his mind. 
My fingers tightened around the jar of honey, frowning as I saw the mess left behind. It almost looked like there was a - oh god. My legs started to move towards the front door, before I even had time to process everything. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but whatever this was, it was telling me to get the fuck out, and fast. 
The tips of my fingers grazed the cool metal of the handle, shaking heavily as I fumbled with the lock. 
My body froze completely when the sound of a throaty, deep chuckle reached my ears. Much to my dismay, my movements halted and I could no longer control my body. My back was turned away from the eerie sound, my heart trying to convince me that it was all in my head. 
Heavy footsteps followed when I made no attempt to react. The beating in my chest amplified, my hands loosening just enough for the jar that I still held to fall and shatter against the flooring beneath me. 
“Leaving so soon?” The deep voice asked, still sounding like they were behind me, only a few feet back
A small squeak slipped from my lips as I finally managed to gain control over my body. Although, I did not turn to face that ominous voice. Instead, I glanced down to the broken jar at my feet; the sticky honey pooled at my toes, pieces of glass reflected back up at me. 
My hand was still wrapped around the doorknob, debating on my options. Could I unlock the door, open it, and run down the hallway and outside before they reached me? Would I have time to scream for help? Would anyone actually come? My thoughts were running a million miles per second and I couldn’t keep up. 
Another laugh echoed behind me, this time it sounded amused. I twisted my head back to finally make eye contact, only to feel my last shred of hope disappear when I noticed who - no what, was behind me. 
A shaky breath fell from my lips as my eyes focused on His face. The black markings spread down from beneath Yuji’s bright eyes, reaching all the way to his chin. Another two marks stretched across his nose and on his forehead, solidifying my previous fears. While it was technically Yuji’s body, it didn’t really look like him anymore. He seemed to grow a foot taller, while his training outfit strained under new muscle mass. 
Sukuna. Fucking Sukuna.  
The expression on his face almost sent me into a panic attack. He watched me like a predator stalking its prey, head tilted ever so slightly while his lips pulled back into a smirk. He knew. He fucking knew. My pupils were blown wide as I gripped the handle tighter, attempting to use my thumb to unlock it as I maintained eye contact with the curse that adorned my best friend's face and body. 
The air in the room felt thick like glue, wrapping around my chest and choking me out. Was this what Megumi felt? Constricting and suffocating? 
Sukuna’s eyes moved from mine and floated down my body, lingering slightly on my chest and waist before shooting back up to read my expression. As much as I wanted to cringe at his prying eyes, I managed to keep a straight face. I wanted nothing more than to run down the hallway and find Gojo, but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. 
His wandering eyes caused a rush of heat to flow through me, unsettling my already flipped stomach. No. He couldn’t possibly-
Megumi’s stories lingered in the back of my head. He’s on a whole other level, Y/N. You can’t take him on yourself. If he ever switches with Yuji, you run and find Gojo or me. He would tell me whenever Yuji wasn’t around. I guess he didn’t want to make Yuji feel even worse than he already did, as he was the vessel. 
“Well?” Sukuna spoke again, the deepest of his voice startling me to jolt straighter. “Aren’t you going to run?” He sounded bored, almost like he was annoyed that I wasn’t reacting. I knew that he wanted me to react, whether it was to run, scream, cry, or beg him to switch back with Yuji.  
I swallowed hard. “No. That’s exactly what you want and I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.” I fully turned to face him, letting my hand drop from the handle. 
My body buzzed with adrenaline to escape, but I knew there was no way that I could outrun him. I had to play this smart. Yuji was almost certainly fighting for control, but he must be exhausted and weak from all of his training. It was going to take him longer. I just had to stall a little bit.  Despite the pep talk that I mentally gave myself, I still felt horrified. My breathing stunted unconsciously, restricting the access of air into my lungs. 
Sukuna’s arms crossed over his chest and he grinned, flashing me his unnaturally sharp canines. 
“Have it your way then.” 
Before I could fully process his words, he dove towards me. I gasped and leaped out of the doorway, narrowly escaping his sudden attack. Fuck. So much for stalling. I stumbled over my own feet as I threw myself over the back of the couch, landing on my unsteady feet. My body spun around in an instant, focused on keeping him within my sight. Sukuna watched me as I took a small step backwards, but remained on the other side of the couch. 
“Stay the fuck away from me.” I took another hesitant step back, eyes darting back to the door. No more stalling. Yuji wasn’t going to come back out for a while. It was time to get the fuck out of here and fast. I had limited options on where I could go. Getting to the front door meant that I would have to run by him, which certainly meant he would capture me. Running to my bedroom wasn’t smart either, as there was nothing to barricade myself in with. Instead, I focused on keeping the distance between our bodies.  
Sukuna’s eyes brightened when he watched me stumble back, enjoying the fear that he was pulling from me. It was sick. My every move was being studied by his crimson eyes, anticipating what I would do next. 
“You’re just as annoying as that brat.” He laughed, referring to Yuji. 
Once again, the unnerving sound of his laugh startled me into stepping backwards at a quicker pace. It was silly. I knew that retreating would not allow me an escape from the sickening sound of it. But I stepped away all the same, hoping that some distance from the Curse would grant me freedom. 
My eyes left him for only a moment, and when I looked back, he was out of my line of sight. I snapped my head from side to side, remaining on edge while I looked around the small room. Where did he go?! I bit down on my lip, and without thinking, I dove forward towards the front door again, only to be stopped. I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and yank me backwards. Behind? How?!  
I expected to land on the ground, but my back hit something just as hard and knocked the wind out of my lungs all the same. I let out a sharp groan at the feeling, kicking and throwing my elbows back and in attempts to get free from his hold. My attacks did very little as his large hands moved from my shoulders and down to my waist. His grip was strong and sharp, digging into the soft flesh of my torso. 
“Let me go!” I trashed about, screaming and fighting furiously. 
I felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed, planting my back harder against his chest. The sudden movement surprised me, and I gasped before resuming my fight. He hummed in satisfaction, sending another wave of vibrations down my spine. 
“That’s the spirit, slut.” He growled, giving me another tight squeeze. 
I huffed, stalling my fighting. “What the fuck do you want?” My voice was low and hoarse. 
“Isn’t that a stupid question coming from a sorcerer?” He mocked, leering down towards me. His body was oddly warm, warmer than I ever thought it would be. 
I opened my mouth to respond but before I could, I felt my body being slung forward to the ground. My hands shot out and I let out another surprised cry, bracing myself for the hard fall. My knees and hands slammed against the ground, landing on all fours. Before I could stand up again, Sukuna’s foot planted on my back and pushed me onto my stomach. I let out a gasp of strangled air as I collided with the hard floor, Sukuna’s foot grinding me harder against the cool surface before retreating. 
I gritted my teeth in anger and flipped myself over clumsily. Sukuna glared down at me, his smug expression taunting me into fighting back. Instead, I started to crawl backwards, attempting to distance myself. He matched my movements and followed me backwards at a slowed pace, until he dropped over top of me. I screeched, half expecting his full weight to crush me, but he caught himself, hovering just above me. 
His red eyes focused down on mine, drinking up my quivering form. My heart felt like it was going to explode from anticipation, fearing his next movements. A sob of both fear and helplessness left my lungs as I watched those red eyes drift over my body. 
“Yuji…” I muttered softly, turning my head to the side. 
Sukuna must’ve heard me because he snorted, but chose not to respond to my helpless plea for Yuji to return. He had control in this situation, and there was no way that he was going to willingly switch back at this moment.   
The tears I fought back pooled at my lower lash line, slipping down the sides of my flushed cheeks as Sukuna gleaned over me, lowering himself closer to my face. I shut my eyes tightly and cringed back. This was it. I thought. He’s going to tear my throat out with his sharp teeth. I was going to die, choking and sputtering in my own blood. I braced myself for the pain, preparing myself for death that awaited me for open arms. Yuji…Nobara…Megumi…
I felt nothing but warmth. Was this death? My eyes snapped open when I realized that this feeling was not my blood seeping out of my throat; it was his tongue. My shriek of fear turned into disgust when I felt his tongue press flat against my jawline and lick up my cheek and over my eye. 
“Urgh… wha-” My cheek damp with his spit as I looked up at him. He wasn’t going to- no. He wouldn’t… No.    
His face retreated back from mine, a feral look of satisfaction painted across his features. My face twisted back up in disgust when I realized, causing him to chuckle. Before I could scramble away from his intentions, his arms wrapped around the back of my thighs and he pulled me against him, draping them over his own. My skirt rode up around my hips as he placed himself flush against my core, grinding against the thin fabric of my panties. 
My gaze widened and I shook my head, squirming against his grip. “No! Not this! Just kill me!” 
Sukuna laughed again, “You sorcerers really are stupid, huh?” His nails dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, parting me further open for him. 
My hands flew to meet his, scratching and pounding against them with a new sense of urgency. Shock took over my expression as I fought with a newfound strength, but it proved to be fruitless.   
“You can’t!” I cried, kicking and twisting my body. 
Sukuna bellowed out from a laugh, my frantic eyes meeting his half lidded ones, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side as he watched me. He looked as if he wanted to devour me, his tongue darted out again as he licked his lips. Sukuna felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure as I struggled in his grip. There was a deep, dark primal instinct embedded deep within him that made him enjoy forcing submission.   
“I can and I will, slut. No one is coming to save you. You’re all mine.” His hands moved faster than I ever thought as he ripped the shirt of my uniform, the cool air hitting against my already erect nipples and eliciting a sharp gasp from my lips. My chest heaved up and down as my hands flew from his and over my chest, trying to shield my body from his lustful gaze.  
Sukuna grinned, prying my hands away. He groaned, staring at my tits that were on full display. He looked hungry, as if he hadn’t eaten in years and I was the perfect meal for him, served up on a silver platter. My mouth parted when I felt something wet and slimy fall on the swell of my breasts. My eyes blew wide when I saw the glimmer of saliva slide down to my collarbone, pooling there. Drool. He drooled. 
“Oh god. You’re sick.” I cried, wanting the feeling of his skin off of mine. 
“Your God can’t save you now. Take it like the good little slut I know you are.” He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before lowering it down to my cunt, which clenched around nothing. With my skirt bunched around my hips, it provided an ease of access. Sukuna looped his finger through my panties and tore them off in one swipe. 
“No!” I tried to push his palm away futilely. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Yuji can see everything.” He oozed, his voice hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Maybe then that brat will stop jerking his cock to the thought of you.” He snickered, his fingers prodding against my dry folds. 
I squeezed my eyes shut, somehow hoping that his words would be blocked out by this. “Stop, this isn’t right.” I didn’t want to believe the things he was saying, but his taunting would not let up. 
“What’s not right? That you’re a little cock tease or that Yuji fucks his fist picturing you bent over and screaming for him?” He sneers, his fingers make work on my cunt, spreading open my folds but never reaching for my clit. 
His words felt like a vice, tightening inch by inch with every mocking word that dripped from his mouth. Despite looking like my best friend on the outside, there were no similarities on the inside. Sukuna was sadistic, cruel, and demeaning. He enjoyed the chaos he caused, having zero regard for the lives of anyone but himself. 
My reaction must’ve drawn out some pleasure from the monster above me because he spoke up again, suddenly. “You know how many times I had to listen to that brat moaning out your name?” He taunted, glimmering teeth on full display. “It’s only fair that I get a taste.” 
I felt his fingers pull away for a moment, while another shaky sigh came from my parted lips. That loss of contact only lasted for a few seconds, and then came the sense of familiarity when that warm wetness returned. My breathing stuttered as my eyes shot down to my core, immediately noticing the second mouth that formed on the palm of his hand. My mouth slacked open as I watched the thin muscle poke out and lick a stripe up my cunt. 
“Urgh-” My head fell back against the floorboards, feeling the heat begin to accumulate between my legs. 
Sukuna hummed in satisfaction, his free hand moving towards my face. I flinched when I felt his surprisingly soft hands grab my chin and turn my attention back towards him. “Eyes on me or I’ll rip them out of your pretty head.” His nails dug into the sides of my cheeks as he pinched them together. 
His tongue dragged down, gathering up the slick that quickly bloomed at my entrance before pulling back up and drawing out slow circles on the tender nub. He repeated this movement a few times, licking up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. I could hear the lewd noises that my cunt was making, his spit and my own slick mixing together into a sticky mess. As much as I fought against the feelings he was providing me, I could not fight the soft mewl of desperation when his tongue slipped into me. 
“So wet already, pathetic.” As much as I wanted to look away, I enjoyed having my eyes still in their sockets. 
Sukuna groaned at the sensation of my cunt clenching down on his appendage. He had not tasted something so good in over a century, so sweet and warm, dripping out all for him. It felt even better since he could hear Yuji crying out in the background of his mind, shouting obscenities and begging the Curse to stop his assault. Sukuna did not. His tongue dove deeper, licking and slurping like a wild animal at a feast. This was a feast. 
My reactions only spurred him on more, watching gleefully as my legs twitched and toes curled at the sensation. He watched as my eyes rolled back lazily and my hips swayed against his palm. I could feel my eyebrows pull together in a frown, desperately fighting against the feelings he was giving me. 
His tongue curled upwards and my body spasmed. Sukuna chuckled and slammed his palm on my hip, pinning me to the floor to stop my writhing. “Desperate little bitch.” 
My eyes rolled back and I felt my hips jerk involuntarily forward, seeking pressure against my unsatisfied clit. My thighs squeezed together as I tried to drown out the pulsating that grew into a gnawing feeling of pain, wanting a release. 
“Ah, ah, ah.” Sukuna tutted, retracting his tongue and pulling away. “Did I say you could come yet?” 
Another whine came from my lips from the loss of contact. While I fell down from my built up high, so did my pride. Lazy lidded eyes met mine, hints of annoyance lingered behind them as he watched my paled face twitch, snapping back to reality. My hands slammed against the floor and I tried to scoot out of his hold; reality hitting me like a fucking truck. Sukuna followed closely as I scampered backwards, making quick work to grab onto my ankle and tug me back in place. 
“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished here.” He growled down at my shivering form, legs turning to mush from a single glare. He enjoyed watching me try to retreat away, but also felt a pinch of annoyance at the back of his head. I watched as his eyes squinted and he smirked, an expression that could only be described as terrifying in this moment. I returned with a look of pure fear as I stared into the eyes of the beast. 
“Please! Don’t! I can’t do this any-” I cried when Sukuna flipped me onto my stomach, my chin knocking against the ground before I could finish my sentence. 
“You’re right. I’m getting bored of this.” Before I had a chance to crawl away again, his hands were pulling at my hips, angling me so that my ass was perched up and pressed into his groin. He must’ve guessed my next moves because his hand moved to hold my back down, keeping my chest pinned to the floor. 
A puff of strangled air left my mouth and I craned my head to look back at him, my eyes pleading for any sense of mercy hidden within him. I felt regret seep into my nerves as I watched Sukuna lick his lips at the sight of my ass, which was on full display for him. His hand pressed harder against my clammy skin, his gaze finally reaching my own. 
“Don’t panic, I’m not fucking that hole.” He traced soft patterns against the globe of my ass. “Not today, anyways.” He chuckled, pleased with himself as he shuffled around with Yuji’s shorts. My throat tightened when his cock sprung free, large and thick, dripping with precum at the tip. 
I bit down hard on my lip and tried to scurry forwards, my blunt nails digging into anything that I could catch. “No. You can’t. You’ll rip me apart-” Sukuna let out a groan of annoyance and pulled me back down. His fingers raked through my hair and tugged it back, guiding my head back towards his direction. 
“I’m going to fuck you whether you want it or not. Fighting back will only hurt you worse.” He grunted, his hand moving back and forth down his shaft, smearing his precum all over until it glistened. He positioned himself at my entrance, slowly guiding himself inch by inch inside of me. My jaw slacked open and my eyes squeezed shut at the burning sensation that shot up my entire stomach. 
“Sukuna, please. Get off.” My hands tried to pry his out of my hair. “It hurts.” 
He said nothing when he slammed himself completely inside me, his nails digging painfully into my skin. I had not been prepared nor adjusted for his size, so when his cock was fully seated inside me, I screamed. The searing pain erupted and traveled up to my throat, making me feel like I was going to throw up. 
“Fuck.” Was all Sukuna could say, still frozen still. He felt like he was being suffocated by the tightness of my cunt, which clenched tighter when I screamed. His eyes closed for a moment, savoring the terrified expression on my face. “You’re so tight.” His hips moved slowly, dragging himself out before slamming back in. 
I screamed again, back bowing down to the ground and clawing harder at his hand. “Too much! I can’t-” Sukuna dragged my head up and slammed it down onto the ground, silencing me immediately. 
“Shut up. I could care less if it hurts. I’ve satisfied you enough.” He spoke low and with no regard for my well being. 
Sukuna’s hips began to move at a steady pace, while the pain of his cock buried inside me still lingered, it was overshadowed by the throbbing at my temple. My vision was spotty and I felt myself swaying, struggling to remain in this position. Sukuna must have noticed this because he let go of my hair and grabbed my hips, whether it was to steady me or to get better leverage, I didn’t know. 
With my slumped form pressed tightly against his groin, it became easier for Sukuna to plow into my cunt, which clenched tightly as a last resort to fight off the intrusion. This only seemed to please him further and he let out a dark laugh, relishing in the feeling. 
With my arms pinned awkwardly beneath my body, I had very little range of motion, which only made it easier for Sukuna. His hips snapped against my ass, filling me up to the brim as his cock slammed into my cervix. My mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes wide but only able to see dark patches. 
I managed to tilt my head towards him, noticing that he kept his gaze on his cock stuffing me full. My breathing was sporadic, unable to get air in without hiccuping and sobbing. The dark spots in my vision only grew bigger and my head swayed. 
“I’m gonna pa-” 
Sukuna slowed his pace, but it wasn’t for my own mercy. “Tch. Stay conscious. I’m not going to fuck a corpse.” 
My teeth gritted at his words, but his slowed pace allowed me to control my breathing.  
“I’m going to kill you.” I mumbled, eyes watering with fresh tears, clumping my thick lashes together. 
Another booming laugh filled the room again, and this time Sukuna paused. “Oh yeah? The big bad sorcerer acting all tough now?” I was yanked upwards, my back slammed against his chest as he leered down to my ear. With this new angle, his cock reached a whole new depth inside me. My teeth caught my bottom lip, not wanting to let out a sound. 
Sukuna trailed his hands along my waist before squeezing my clammy skin. “You’ve got more balls than that brat.” He whispered, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. “Want to know what he’s doing right now?” He asked, which seemed more rhetorical than anything, his tone hinting at something much more sinister than I expected. 
“What are you talking about?” I hissed back, jerking my head away from the heat of his mouth. 
His hand wrapped around my throat, not enough to cut off air but enough for me to shift back closer to him. “Ah,” his hips jerked upwards, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. “He’s watching.” Sukuna taunted, making sure that I was balanced on top of him before reaching round and grabbing my tit. “Jerking himself like a fucking pubesent child.” 
A wave of nausea hit me in my throat, his words cutting deep. Was this true? Was Yuji enjoying this…? How much could he see? Sukuna tweaked my nipple hard, marveling in the pliable flesh between his fingers. 
“Let’s give him a good show, yeah?” He chuckled, flipping me round so that my legs were on either side of his waist and I was now facing him directly. I straddled him awkwardly, perched upon his legs. My hands flew up to his shoulders so that I wouldn’t fall backwards. Something told me that he wouldn’t care if I fell and slammed my head into the ground again. 
“Don’t say that.” I snarled, glaring up at him while he watched me with half-lidded eyes, too concentrated on the feeling of my walls squeezing around him. “You’re repulsive.” 
“Don’t be all coy with me now. I don’t mind sharing my playthings.” He sneered, his hips snapping upwards while I was caught off guard. My head snapped back and I gasped, feeling the pleasure as he hit a spot hidden deep within me. “That’s it. Let the brat hear you scream for me.” He hit that same spot that made me see stars, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. 
I lost control of my emotions, and now was beginning to lose control of my own body. My nerves sent off waves of pleasure as my cunt milked him, clenching tightly every time he buried himself inside me. 
 This was wrong. So so wrong.   
Over and over, Sukuna hit that spongy spot. I could hear just how wet I was everytime Sukuna thrusted his hips. So much so that it gathered at the base of his cock and seeped onto his thighs, making him grin ear to ear. “What a good little sorcerer.” He cooed, edging me on. “Look at you now.” A dribble of drool slid down my chin, soft moans coming from the back of my throat. 
“Ah- there!” I squealed, my nails surely breaking skin and drawing blood, but Sukuna didn’t seem to mind. He was enjoying seeing me like this. As much as he loved hearing me scream and beg for mercy - this, this was something else. Seeing my will break and take his cock like this drove him mad. Seeing my eyes roll back and pouty lips open wide for him made him want to stuff it. 
Sukuna’s hand quickly covered my opened mouth, his mouth returning on his palm to shove his tongue deep into my throat. “Hmmph!” I gagged slightly, not expecting the sudden intrusion. 
“Don’t bite me.” He warned, keeping his pace as he glared down at me. 
His tongue swirled around my mouth, invading my senses and driving me even closer to the edge. With his palm flat against my mouth and tongue shoving against my own, it was harder to breathe. My breaths come in short sporadic gasps and mewls. Excess saliva spilled out of my mouth and coated his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Swallow it all and I’ll let you come.” He ordered. “I’m feeling generous.” I eagerly swallowed every last bit of his spit, knowing that I was close to coming any second now. 
“What a desperate little slut.” His eyes narrowed down on my frame, watching my tits bounce at his quickened pace. 
I moaned against his tongue when I came, squeezing his cock harder than ever. My eyes were wide open but I could barely see a thing, only focused on the feeling on release. “Fuck, you’re gonna push me out.” Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth as he realized that he was about to come too.
“N-not inside…” I moaned, slowly coming back down from my high. 
Sukuna must’ve heard me but chose to ignore me, because his hands moved back to my waist and he pushed me down on his twitching cock, making sure that I couldn’t jump off. He let out a deep moan as he filled me up, heating me up from the inside out. 
I squeaked at the feeling, trying to pull away. “No!” 
His cock was still buried deep inside me while his come leaked out of my overstimulated cunt, the aftershocks of my orgasm clenching around him. He shuddered before releasing my hips, allowing me to skitter off and away from him. The feeling of his come inside me made my body convulse, my body trying to squeeze it all out. I watched as it dripped onto the floorboards and slid between my asscheeks. 
Sukuna sighed, his head raising up to meet my petrified gaze. His chest rose and fell quickly as he watched me. “I’ll see you again, Y/N.”  
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yuutx · 1 month
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘 '𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! (𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒪𝑅𝒰)
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gojo satoru x f!reader ノ 18+ content. ノ nsfw ノ cum fetish ノ cumming hands-free ( m ) ノ squirtingノ slight praise kink ノ slight degrading kink ノ air humping ( m ) ノ multiple orgasms ノ oral sex ( f receiving ) ノ msub + fdom ノ not proofread ! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
definitely not the longest fic 've written buttttt i wanted 2 jus' get this outta my head ! srry if this is not the best fic, 'm incredibly sleepy, though i do hope you enjoy reading despite this not bein' my best work ! art credits are here ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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Sticky arousal painted his features, the creamy substance dripping down the sides of his face. Wet lashes batted at you, his gaze fixed upon your form, pleading for you to treat him with more of your essence. "Let me taste you more.. please.." The man below you begged, his hands clasped together in front of him, his eyes sparkling with lust and admiration. His mouth hung open, his tongue lolling out, awaiting your release. You felt his warm breath fan across your cunt, sending shivers up your spine.
You took a step forward, the heels of your feet clicking against the hardwood floor. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him, the tip of his tongue pressing into your slit. "You're such a good boy.." You cooed, your hands carding through his snowy locks. You watched as he slowly lapped at your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit. Soft whines left his lips, his warm breath hitting your sex. He looked so pretty below you, his eyes staring up at you, a pleading look in his crystal blue irises. "More.. let me taste more.." He whined, his tongue sliding up and down your slit, coating his taste buds with your slick, his eyes never once leaving yours.
Your fingers curled in his hair, pulling his head closer to you, your hips grinding against his mouth, his lips enveloping your clit. He let out a muffled moan, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs, his head moving in sync with your movements. His tongue moved expertly, his nose buried deep in the folds of your slit, his head tilted upwards, his gaze burning into yours. "So needy.." You muttered, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you felt him twitch beneath you. A shaky gasp escaped his lips, his eyes closing, brows furrowing as his cock spasmed, a sticky stream of cum shooting out, landing on the hardwood floor beneath him. He whined loudly, his hips jerking forwards, his lips wrapping around your clit, his eyes fluttering open once more. Had he just.. came from you calling him needy? Oh, what a perfect, beautiful little slut you had in your grasp. You were going to enjoy this.
"Such a whore.." Your voice dripped with venom, his tongue moving faster, his hips jerking uncontrollably, his cock spasming again. Another stream of cum, this one longer than the last, shot out, landing on his stomach, his body quivering as his hips bucked upwards, a muffled cry leaving his lips. "Babyyyy..c-cant do this t' me.. makin' me crazy.." He slurred, his length pumping out ropes of cum, his mouth sucking on your clit, his tongue drawing small circles against your skin. You watched as he shook beneath you, his eyes rolling back as his mouth opened wide, a long, drawn out moan leaving his lips, his hips thrusting into the air. "F-fuckk.. no.." He begged, tears forming in his eyes, his legs shaking violently, his body trembling as his cock continued to twitch and spurt out his essence, the liquid landing on his abdomen. "Mh.. Can't even control it.. can't stop cumming.. can't stop.. so hard.." He whined, his eyes closing as a single tear ran down his cheek, his body shivering with ecstasy as he easily came hands free, his cock completely untouched, yet drenched in his own cum, a mess of semen sticking to his skin.
It was a sight to behold. So utterly submissive. You smirked, watching as his cock twitched for the umpteenth time, another wave of his cum painting his torso. His mouth fell open, a loud whine leaving his lips as his tongue drove itself deep into your core, the tip of his pink muscle grazing the top of your walls. "You're so perfect like this, Satoru.." You breathed, his name falling from your lips in a sweet sigh. He was too focused on you, on your pleasure, that he failed to notice his own body convulsing further, his length throbbing and leaking. "So fucking hot.. I could watch you cum forever." You mused, the words leaving your mouth in a whisper, sending a jolt of electricity up his spine. He groaned against you, his eyes squeezing shut as his tongue began to move, the muscle swirling around your core, his head bobbing in sync with the movements of his mouth. His jaw worked tirelessly, the muscles straining under the constant use, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the act of eating you out. It was euphoric, his body quivering, his cock twitching, his mind focused only on the task at hand. Your taste filled his senses, drowning his brain in the deliciousness of your nectar, the sweet honey varnishing his tongue.
The taste of you. God, he could live on your taste alone. The thought made his stomach clench, his dick pulsating with desire. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, a sweet treat that made him weak in the knees. The way your juices coated his lips, the way they slid down his throat, the way your taste lingered on his tongue, it was like a drug. He couldn't get enough of it. Your taste was intoxicating, and he was hooked. It was an addiction, one he was more than happy to succumb to. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in your taste, to be drowned in it. He wanted to live in your flavor.
A harsh tug on his strands caused his eyes to open, his vision blurry from his tears. His cock was throbbing, the organ pulsating against his stomach, precum pooling in his navel. He felt the familiar pressure in his core, the feeling building up in his loins. "Mh.. gonna.." He trailed off, his body shivering as his cock began to shoot out thick spurts of his seed. It was an intense orgasm, his body jerking and shuddering with each stream that left his length. He felt his stomach grow warm, his essence coating his skin, dripping down his sides. "Ahhh.." He moaned, his face a mess of tears, saliva and cum. His body trembled as he continued to climax, his length continuing to squirt his seed, the sticky substance staining his skin, the sticky liquid oozing down his torso. His body quivered as he released his load, his hips bucking up involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. He could feel your fingers running through his hair, gently caressing his scalp. "Mmm.. 'm so close 'toru.. you're doing such a good job.. don't stop.." You whispered, your voice sweet and soothing, your fingers scratching his scalp, eliciting a soft purr from his lips. You were so sweet and patient, he could spend hours between your legs, his tongue worshipping you.
"G-god… mhm…" He whimpered, his voice shaky and high pitched, his face scrunched up in pleasure, his eyes half lidded, his mouth hanging open, a string of saliva dribbling down his chin. "Cum.. a-at.. cum, baby.. p-please.. need more of-!" He paused, feeling the result of your orgasm against his tongue. You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tightly, his name leaving your lips in a moan, his tongue eagerly lapping at your pussy. He drank down every last drop, his tongue sliding against your slit, his teeth lightly grazing your clit. "S-so.. so.. gooood.. tastes 'mazing.. fuckkk.." He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, his mouth closing over your cunt, his lips sealing around your folds. "Moreee.. Fuck, Y/N.. G-give me more.."
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genacity · 7 months
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DAY ONE. FIRST TIME?
ft. gojo satoru — jujutsu kaisen (呪術廻戦)
your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.
ruling. nsfw — mature content
content warnings. dom! gn! reader, first time sub! gojo, anal penetration / pegging, fingering, overstimulation, bratty gojo, slight dacryphilia, dumbification themes, hair pulling, spit as lube, established relationship, plot before porn
an. this came out way too long. anyways hope y’all enjoy day 1, some of the kinks listed on the ml did not make the cut bcs the fic would take 80 years to read and the intro is already cutting into my lifetime. also not proofread. anyways enjoy fucking gojo!!
kinktober 2023 masterlist
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you and your boyfriend gojo satoru have been dating for five months at this point. your relationship is everything you’ve ever wanted in one; secure, loving, and honest. satoru is the most caring man you’ve probably ever met— though cheeky, he’s just as infatuated with you as he was when you first met.
not only is gojo amazing, but so is the sex. not to be a prude, but it’s true. he knows how to take care of his baby and never wants to leave you unsatisfied.
the only sour thing about your relationship is his teasing. especially in the mornings-after.
when you’re groaning, pressing down on a muscle in your back as you complained to gojo about how hard he went down on you the night prior. your boyfriend’s fierce laughter as he’s propped up on one arm, staring at you from his safety beneath the covers of your shared bed and messy hair.
“aw, c’mon, you know you liked it.” gojo would say as you kept prodding at your shoulders and legs. you’d shoot him a dirty look and he’d snicker loudly again. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. i’ll make it up to you today, i swear.”
one morning, your boyfriend had tossed his still-bare body over yours after a long session that night. face first into the pillow behind your head; long, spindly limbs sprawled out like a starfish on top of you as you both shared silly remarks about the long night you both had.
“y’know, one day, i’m gonna get you back for all the times you leave me sore like this,” you huffed, earning a muffle giggle from your boyfriend with his head in the sheets. “what? i’m serious.” you insisted.
gojo’s head snapped up to look at you. squinted blue eyes followed by another ugly little giggle. “uh huh, i bet.”
“what do you mean, ‘you bet’?” you scrunched your nose as your boyfriend gave you another mean chuckle through his big grin. “c’mon, y/n. you know you can’t top my skills.”
“now what does that mean?” you shot back, cocking an eyebrow at gojo’s funny expressions.
he hummed, thinking for a bit before turning his attention back to you. “you know i’m good at what i do. if you even tried to top me, you’d just end up giving up anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “not true.”
“what’s not true? that you’d give up, or that i’m good? because y’know, these fingers aren’t only good at sorcery—”
“yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.”
ever since that night, though, you haven’t stopped thinking about the idea. reversing the roles. it’s something the both of you had never tried before, but were you open to the idea. you just needed to make sure that satoru was, too.
but there was something different about tonight in particular that made you feel a bit more confident than usual.
it started off as it usually did whenever the both of you were in the mood. a handsy hello as soon as you got home from work; peppering your face with kisses and fingers pressing against your hips as you let your boyfriend lead you to the bedroom.
you’d barely be able to get a word in with the way gojo would welcome you home. lips quickly pressed together and without hesitation your back would be against the mattress and clothes discarded onto the floor.
“missed you today.” gojo mumbled into the kiss, lips sloppily trying to chase the pattern the both of you shared. hands gripping at your sides as he pushed you eagerly onto the bed.
as soon as you hit the bed you immediately grabbed at his arms and pulled him forward onto you. something inside you was pounding— pounding for tonight to be different than the rest.
you pulled gojo onto the bed, chest rising with heated breaths as a switch in your brain flipped. hands pushing him down beneath you, his back against the sheets as your boyfriend let out a breathy gasp.
“hey, what’re you doin’?” gojo mumbled, looking up at you through glassy eyes and white lashes as you reveled at the sight of satoru beneath you— a sight you weren’t used to seeing, but welcomed with open arms.
“you’re gonna let me take care of you tonight. okay toru?” you said, his eyes blowing wide and lips twitching into a small grin.
“take care of me?” he chuckled, watching as you slowly started to undo his shirt. “i’d like to see you try.”
you rolled your eyes as you pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. gojo watched your every movement, watching with interest as one of your hands quickly went to circle one of his nipples.
he shivered at your cold fingertips tracing along his chest, but laughed all the same. “what, ‘s this all you’re gonna do? c’mon, baby, let me just take care of you and— mmph.” gojo was promptly cut off when he felt your fingers press against the hard-on in his pants. a small smile crept onto your lips at the sight.
“hush, toru.” you muttered, palming him through his pants as gojo let out a strained groan. “this is what you get for being so mean to me all the time. leaving me brusied and sore.”
“you said you wanted it rough.” satoru panted, looking down at you as his long fingers started to grab at the sheets beneath him. “oh, i do.” you shrugged. “but now, it’s your turn to feel what i feel.”
your boyfriend’s breath hitched in his throat at the words from your tongue. he quickly gathered himself, clearing his throat to mask the whimper that slipped his lips. “you’ll just give up, y’know. you’re just gonna give into me and come crawling back.”
“that’s what you may think, but i know what i want.” you said, removing your hand from his bulge to reach for his glinting silver belt buckle. “you’re gonna take my cock and behave, just like i do for you. and if you don’t like it, you can say our safe word and leave.”
gojo gulped. he knew you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want. he was in the position to say no whenever he wanted to. but the thought of your thick cock splitting him open had him salivating; even if he didn’t want to admit it to his big ego.
“satoru.” your voice called him back, snapping him out of the trance he was in. he looked down at you, his belt already undone and ready to be pulled off. “color, satoru. tell me what you want.”
he swallowed thickly again, lips parting as he whispered. “green.”
you smiled softly at him, slowly pulling his belt from the loops as you muttered a slow “alright.” unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down alongside his boxers. his pretty cock revealing itself to you.
“already leaking for me, huh toru?” you snickered, the feelings of your breath along his dick making him twitch.
“still gonna break you, y’know.” gojo murmured. “you’re just gonna give up and beg me to fuck you.”
“whatever makes you feel better.” *you said plainly. the tone in your voice left him shivering. suddenly, you raised your hand to his lips and with no hesitation said, “spit.”
gojo blinked down at you, who was watching him expectantly. he parted his lips and let his tongue slip forward, spitting onto your fingers as he maintained eye contact with you. “thank you, toru.” you said, lubricating your fingers before you lined them with the edge of his hole.
he felt his heart leap into his throat when your fingertips prodded at his entrance. silently, satoru spread his legs to let you know he wanted you. and you seemed to understand his prompt, for almost immediately your long fingers slipped into him with ease.
“fuck, oh god.” gojo immediately hissed, clenching tight around your middle and ring fingers as they slowly began to thrust in and out of him. “oh my god.”
he watched as your hand worked at his insides; curling your fingers as the sorcerer finally allowed for small whines to slip past his lips. each sound left his stomach turning— the dirty sounds of his own hole clenching around his partner’s fingers making him shudder.
gojo was stuck at small whines of pleasure, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, until your fingers hit a particularly good spot inside him that made him cry out.
“ohn— oh fuck,” gojo whined out. “there. right, right there, that— ah!” he gasped when your fingers curled against his sweet spot, making him flinch and pulse around you. “‘s that feel good, satoru?” you asked, slowly thrusting your fingers in and out of his hole, taking note of the way his fingers curled around the satin sheets of your shared bed.
satoru nodded. his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths as he kept his eyes locked on you. “yeah. feels good. right there, feels so good…” he murmured. jolting back with every thrust of your fingers in and out of him, muscles tensing and relaxing in ragged patterns before you eventually pulled your fingers out.
“so messy.” you murmured, raising your hand to his mouth again. “spit.” and he did, right onto your fingers once more.
“i think you’re ready to take me, toru.” you spread his legs and began to undo your own buckle. your boyfriend watched your hands, every move closer to watching you reveal yourself making him almost shake with anticipation.
it wasn’t until you finally pulled out your cock did he realize how big you truly were. eyes blowing into saucers as he immediately began to blabber.
“you look so big!” satoru whined. “no way you’re gonna make me take all of that!”
“oh, i will.” you purred, pressing the head of your cock to his hole. he flinched, feeling your tip just against his ass as he went to protest again. “why can’t i jus’ fuck you like usual, baby?”
you laughed meanly at his words. “what, are you scared, satoru?” you asked, leaning in and simultaneously pressing your tip just against his opening. “scared i’m gonna break you open?”
“no!” gojo shook his head furiously. “i just- i just think you’re gonna get tired and give up.”
you sighed, staring down at your boyfriend with his big wide eyes and wet eyelashes. after a moment of bathing in his beauty, you grabbed hold of his thighs and leaned back. “color, satoru.”
gojo hesitated. looking from you down to his drooling cock that was just begging to be touched. his inflated ego kept hammering in his chest, but the feeling of your tip against his hole drove every thought away and left him squirming.
“green.”
“good.” and before he knew it, you’d forced yourself into him. a loud moan clawing its way through his throat and spilling from his lips as you began to pound into him, gradually picking up speed.
suddenly, that same hammering feeling in his chest immediately died out. as soon as satoru felt your cock sliding in and out of his walls, pressing up against his prostate with every thrust, his demeanor immediately unraveled.
“fuck— oh my— fuck, you’re so big!” gojo cried out. hands scrambling to ground himself as he gripped onto the sheets. “ah— oh— oh my fucking, please, y/n!”
you couldn’t help but watch gojo’s big blue eyes grow teary. rolling back into his head as you fucked him, forcing his legs back to angle yourself well enough to hit all of the right places.
“already all ruined for me, satoru.” you cooed. your words slipped into his brain and toyed with his thoughts, leaving him quietly whimpering as he felt your hands near his head.
all of a sudden, the cloudy feeling forming in gojo’s brain flickered as you took a handful of his hair and forced him to look at you. yelping as your fingers intertwined with his snowy locks and pulled his head up.
“what was that you said earlier about me getting tired and giving up, toru?” you asked, hips angling and pounding into him faster and faster. all he could do was hiccup and gasp, head subtly bobbing from the force of your thrusts combined with the weakening grip on his scalp.
“ahmm— ah, i don’t— uhn…” he stammered, too focused on the feeling of the head of your cock kissing his prostate with every thrust to make out the words you were saying. the fog in his head was coming back, accompanied by a knot tightening in his stomach.
satoru was panting and shaking. too focused on the heat in his lower abdomen spreading across his body. “i’m- it’s-” he stuttered out, words slurred together. his brain was rattling inside his head. too embarrassed to admit the fact that he was already about to cum his brains out to himself as you kept hammering his hole. “y/n, i’m gonna— haaah, oh!”
“gonna what?” you asked, thrusts growing deep and sloppy as you kept your quick pace. “c’mon, finish your sentence. don’t tell me you’ve already gone dumb.”
his vision grew blurry with tears, a few even spilling over and down his cheeks. the heat in his stomach kept burning, hotter and hotter as his brain tried to scramble for words to try and form a sentence. hell, even a word would be nice.
“ah, ahn, i’m— haah, ah, ah!” gojo began to squeal. your grip on his hair grew tighter as he completely began to forget you were even talking to him.
and suddenly, he was cumming all over himself with a garbled “cu— ah, aahhn!” his scalp burning from the force you held him up with, legs twitching as his cock bobbed with every stream of cum he coated his stomach with.
you slowed your thrusts as you watched him cum, but didn’t halt completely. as soon as he was done, you immediately began picking up your pace once more.
“wait, wh— fuck!” satoru whined out as you let go of his hair and flipped him onto his hands and knees. his head stuffed into the pillow that was once below him as you drove your cock into his hole with more fervor than before. “i- i just came! y/n, baby, i just-”
“i never said you could cum, did i?” you asked. immediately he shut his mouth, clenching around you with a loud whine. “you’re gonna keep taking my cock until i’ve cum. until then, you sit here and look pretty for me. is that clear?”
at first he didn’t respond. not until you grabbed hold of his hair from behind and forced him up again. “i said, is that clear, satoru?”
gojo eagerly nodded his head, panting and whimpering with your every movement. “yes. yes, ‘s clear! fuck me, please!”
you were going to have a long night.
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3K notes · View notes
pseudowho · 3 months
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Defending Your Honour
A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.
A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕
Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!
Part 2 (Higuruma Hiromi, Ino Takuma and Itadori Yuuji) link here!
More JJK men and women to come
Trigger Warning: unsolicited dick pics, upskirting, catcalling, threatened sexual assault/reader followed into bathroom
Gojo Satoru
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"Baaaaabe," Satoru whinged from the sofa, at the exact pitch required to set your eyes rolling. You walked back to him, blushing as you felt his eyes roll languidly up and down your bare legs beneath his oversized t-shirt.
Plopping the popcorn bowl down, you sat on the sofa beside him, lazily draping your legs over his lap, tilting your head inquisitively towards him as he teased his long fingers over your thighs. He felt you look at him questioningly, and smirked.
"Nothin'," he shot, "s'too late. Was gonna ask you what movie you wanted, but you're too late. I picked already."
"Oh, really?" You teased, swirling a finger on his pecs, "And what did you choose?"
"Only the cult-classic noughties Anne Hathaway gem...the Princess Diaries. Two." You clapped, squealing with genuine delight as Satoru laughed, pulling you closer onto his lap by the legs.
The movie rolled, and you cuddled under Satoru's arm, taking turns, giggling as you fed each other popcorn. Your phone buzzed, once. You ignored it. Your phone buzzed, again. You ignored it. It buzzed again-- again-- again--
"Someone's popular tonight," Satoru teased, "you wanna get that?" You squirmed uncomfortably under his arm, your lip curled in disgust.
"No, just leave it. Nothing to worry about." Satoru raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but tucked you closer, deliberately missing your mouth with the next piece of popcorn he offered you, shoving it at a nostril instead. You laughed, batting him away.
A few minutes passed, and the incessant buzzing of your phone began again. Satoru felt you tense under his arm. He sat forward, pausing the movie and turning to you.
"Look, you know I won't push for an answer, but...is everything alright?" You turned away from him, lips curled up again, upset.
"This guy from work..." you started guiltily, fidgeting, "...he just keeps messaging me. Won't leave me alone, I-- I've been ignoring him for weeks." Satoru's face pinched in pain and concern. He reached out a hand, threading his fingers through yours.
"Babe...you could have told me." You shrugged, eyes tearing up now. You reached out for your phone, unlocking it.
"I didn't want you to think it was my faul--" you cried out in disgust, dropping your phone into your lap with a jolt, sniffling, face crumpling, "--I'm so sick of this, Satoru."
Satoru slowly reached a hand out to your phone, hesitating for you to stop him. You shook your head tearfully, gesturing loosely at your phone for him to take it.
Satoru's face morphed into something ugly as he scrolled through photo after photo of another man's penis, sometimes flaccid, sometimes hard, held in his hand, covered in cum, in different lighting, at different angles--
"This," Satoru spat, "is not your fault. None of it is." Satoru dropped your phone on the coffee table, turning fully to you again, "Do you know where this guy lives?"
You frowned at Satoru, nodding slowly, considering; "What...are you going to do?"
Satoru's lips quirked at the edges into a dirty little smile; "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't sweat it. I'm the strongest. You know it."
An hour or so later, the owner of the unwanted penis stepped into his apartment, still buzzing after sending you so many good photos, and from the office no less, it was so filthy, so naughty, he just, just knew you'd love it--
"Hey there, guy. I've been waiting for you."
Grabbed bodily by this unreasonably strong, tall, white-haired man, your assailant cried out in terrified indignation as Satoru threw him onto his sofa. Satoru sat on the coffee table opposite him, eyes covered by a black blindfold, spidery legs spread and blocking the man's exit.
"Unlock your phone," Satoru commanded, sounding almost cheerful. The man glared, snarling.
"I'm not unlocking my fucking phone--"
"Unlock your phone," Satoru ordered again, now cold, methodically dangerous, "now."
The assailant reached for his phone with a trembling hand, unlocking it. Satoru held out his own hand expectantly. The man hesitated. Satoru clapped his fingers against his palm, in a display of impatience. Begrudgingly, the man handed over his phone to Satoru, who hummed as he flicked through the disgusting messages the man had been sending you.
"You know," Satoru said conversationally, his words sending shivers of fear up the man's spine, "I kill monsters for a living...did you know that? Probably not." Satoru sucked his teeth, preparing a multi-participant messaging list on the man's phone.
"Got any sisters? Brothers?" Satoru inquired. The man nodded, uncertain. Satoru smiled, as if delighted by the man's cooperation, "Names?"
Shakily, the man reeled off their names, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Satoru asked for more names-- his boss, his best friend, his best friend's wife, his solicitor...
With a happy sigh of finality, Satoru clapped his hands together, throwing the phone back onto the sofa.
"Hope they like your photos, anyway," Satoru chirped to the man, who stared at his frantically buzzing phone as if it were an unexploded bomb, "no takey-backsies!"
Satoru stood, walking to the front door. He paused, turning back slowly, the very air within the flat seeming to crush in around the man with some inconceivable force.
"And if you ever go near my girl again," Satoru offered, calculating, menacing, "the next monster I'll kill is you."
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Megumi and Nobara
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"She doesn't want to go to the book shop with you, she wants to come with me, there's this dress I think she'll look really cute in--"
"--she's my girlfriend Kugisaki!" Megumi snapped, tugging your hand in his so they sat flush against his thigh. You hummed, pretending to consider your options.
"I dunno Megs...if the dress is cute enough, maybe I'll be Nobara's girlfriend instead." Megumi spun to you, appalled, and you laughed as he and Nobara bickered with each other on the way to the escalator.
Ginza was busy, buzzing with the animated, vibrant ebb and flow of the wealthy, and the excitable tourists, and the perfectly-coiffed fashionistas. You, Megumi and Nobara tumbled through the crowd, being reshuffled by the constant bump of passers-by, and you ended up entering the escalator two people ahead of them.
Leaning round to shoot them an apologetic smile, you saw Megumi and Nobara remained embroiled in their sibling-ish argument. You rolled your eyes, facing forward, eyes up to the twinkling lights of the shopping centre.
You thought very little of the twitching of the back of your skirt, so close was the crowd. You heard a cough behind you, loud, barking. You heard another cough, and another, and another.
"Hey-- hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You tried to turn at the sound of Nobara's voice, but failed, shoulders bracketed by the press of the crowd.
"Megumi-- that piece of shit took photos up your girlfriend's skirt! He's covering up the camera noise with coughs!"
"Bastard!"
You cried out as you were shoved forwards, your fingers cracking painfully against the metal of the escalator, and a man in a baseball cap forced his way past you, phone in hand. Nobara and Megumi shouted, in pursuit, Megumi pulling you to your feet as the crowd decompressed at the top of the escalator.
You were confused, humiliated and all turned-around as you staggered at the top of the escalator. Pitying eyes glazed over you in passing, the flow of people giving you a wide berth. You blushed, and clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling so exposed, pulling down the hem at the back.
Megumi had stumbled ahead in chase, but turned back and grasped your hand, his eyes beseeching you to chase with him. Nobara tore off ahead, rounding a corner. You nodded, sniffling, and Megumi raised your clasped hands to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.
You sprinted together after Nobara and found her pinning the capped man against a wall, effortlessly gripping the front of his hoodie while he squirmed. She was going through his phone, lips twisted in distaste at the intimate photographs he had taken of you.
Megumi approached, fists clenching and unclenching, his nose scrunched in disgust. Nobara held the phone close to her chest, eyeing him inquisitively. Megumi shot you a sideways glance, and shook his head at Nobara.
"Save them for the cops," he snapped, "but for now..." Megumi turned to you; "What do you want to do with this bastard?"
Your lip trembled, and you bit it between your teeth to still it. You felt violated, furiously vengeful.
"I think," you shook out, "we should find this guy a skirt." With matching satisfied, wicked smiles, Megumi and Nobara rounded on your assailant.
The sales assistants manning the changing rooms did not dare approach the scene that was unfolding behind the curtains, some time later. While the capped man frantically sobbed, his knobbly-kneed hairy legs woefully exposed by the cute miniskirt he wore, Megumi kept him arm-locked against the wall, endlessly berating and insulting him, while Nobara knelt, taking miserably unflattering photos of his taint under the hem of his skirt.
You stood back, grimly satisfied as your assailant wept his apologies. As you wiped away tears of mirth, Megumi paused in his bullying for just a moment, to smile at you, eyes soft, warm, full of sincere adoration.
You mused to yourself as Nobara slapped the back of the man's thigh, making him shriek; it's not strictly morally just, you thought to yourself, but I don't strictly care.
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Toge Inumaki
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You found yourself so nervous, the first 'first date' you had had in quite some time. Your date, Inumaki, seemed equally unsure, but rolled with a quiet mischievous confidence that sent butterflies through your tummy.
You had approached him, your outfit suddenly seeming so overdone compared to his hoodie and jeans, and you opened your mouth to apologise for being overdressed. The words stopped in your throat as Inumaki's eyes glimmered with joy, and he gestured up and down your body with one finger, before clasping his hands over his heart and tipping his head back towards the sky.
You pressed a hand over your mouth, blushing, and Inumaki stepped forward to grasp your hands and bring them away from your face, swinging them affectionately in his own. You bumped the side of your head against his, realising with a curling warmth, that he had plaited his fingers in yours as you walked together down the street.
The day passed, in a flurry of arcades, street food, souvenir shopping, buying small gifts for each other...the whole day had been spent in wordless gestures, familiar and comfortable. Inumaki's heart stuttered each time he managed to tease you into a twinkling laugh.
Heading home, hands still swinging together, rich steam and hoppy beer aromas tumbled out of the closely packed ramen shops. You and Inumaki found yourselves pressed uncomfortably close to a pack of young men as you squeezed through the crowd. One man squeezed pricklingly, unnecessarily against you as he passed, the street wide enough to render his intimacy completely unjustifiable.
Inumaki paused, watchful eyes seeing as you drew your shoulders up in defence.
"Oh hey baby! You on a date? Hey bro, your girlfriend just tried to feel me up!" You blushed in furious mortification as your shoulders drew even closer towards your chin, pulling your jacket around yourself, keeping your head down and hoping the assault would just go away.
The young man's pack of friends, four of them, laughed and jeered, taking swigs from cans of beer and turning to join in the game.
"Nice outfit babe! Think I've seen something like it on a street corner near here..."
"Yeah, that jacket ain't coverin' much, sweetheart!"
"Aww, you cold? C'mere baby, I've got something nice and warm for you in my pocket."
As the pack continued to laugh and jeer at you, your happiness shrivelled, and you were reduced to nothing, a pecked worm between birds.
Inumaki raised his hand, slowly drawing his mask down, revealing his unusual facial markings. The pack of men paused, then laughed harder. The original perpetrator raised his beer to Inumaki, and began to speak as Inumaki waggled his tongue in preparation.
"Think you've got a bit of Sharpie on your face, ma--"
"Kiss each other-- like you mean it."
Gripped by something other than his own thoughts and desires, the young man stopped, dropping his can to the floor with a metallic wet thunk...before turning to his friend and grasping his face, pressing a passionate, staggering kiss to his lips. The kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated, and two of the others fought each other for the right to lock lips with the final man.
"Put your hands down his pants."
The crowd around the young men hooted and whistled at the show, as the enforced make-out session grew steamier, beer spilling onto the floor around them, wet kisses sounding through the air, hands down pants, groping.
"Keep going-- really enjoy yourselves."
As the scene before you unfolded into something increasingly erotic and debauched, your jaw dropped, all of your own embarrassment forgotten, and Inumaki raised his mask with a cough. Pulling you to wind through the crowd of onlookers and raised, clicking phone cameras, Inumaki turned and shot you a wink.
You laughed, desperately appreciative, and already planning your second date.
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Fushiguro Toji
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"Toji-- Toji-- I mean it, slow down, I need to pee!"
Toji sighed, brisk and pissed-off (his factory settings), and stopped pulling you along by the hand. He shot you a withering look, until you batted your eyelashes, clasping your hands together as you wiggled at him.
Despite himself, he smirked, glancing away so you didn't see (though you already had), and started scouring the street for public bathrooms.
"Come on, pea-bladder," he mocked, his deep voice slow and drawling, "let's find you somewhere to piss."
"Toji, don't be so gross--"
"Don't be so needy, jeez, or you're payin' for your own dinner." You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder affectionately. Rounding a corner, a set of public bathrooms appeared opposite a row of shops.
Raising Toji's hand to your face, you pressed a kiss to the back of his enormous fist. Toji pinched your chin lovingly, before spinning you by the shoulders and planting a hefty slap to your bum.
"Hurry up kid. If someone prettier passes while you're in there, I ain't stickin' round." Toji laughed as your jaw dropped, aghast, and pushed you towards the bathrooms.
Toji chuckled to himself as you skipped away, his eyes only briefly registering the figure loitering outside the bathroom as you headed in.
A few minutes passed and you stepped, relieved, out of the stalls and walked to the sink to clean your hands. Sidling from his hiding spot round the corner, a heavy-jacketed man looked towards you as you gasped, immediately backing yourself away against a wall.
"All alone, baby?" The man challenged, tongue sliding across his front teeth as he approached you, a flick knife clacking in his hand. Steeped in terror, your eyes filled with tears, and you were miserably trapped in the corner against a toilet stall. You opened your mouth to beg for your life, but were interrupted by a low, dangerous voice.
"Nah, man. She ain't alone. But you are."
In abrupt, bloody violence, Toji swung a fist, shattering the man's nose and front teeth in an instant. The man's head snapped back and you screamed, spats of blood splattering down to mix with the stale-water-toilet-paper-mulch of the public bathroom floor.
Toji drew his fist back again as the man staggered, Toji's face twisted in filthy, murderous rage; "Chickenshit little coward, I'll fucking gut yo--"
Toji stopped stock-still at your pale little face staring up in terror...at him now, not your would-be assailant twisting like a maggot on the wet floor. Toji felt a hot rush of shame at having been the cause of your terror.
"Babe..." he started, lost for words. You trembled before him. Toji gulped, turning away from you, unable to look you in the eye. As your frightened heart slowed, Toji took a deep, measured breath in through his nose, and out of his mouth.
"I...frightened you. I'm so--" the words caught in Toji's throat, so alien to him. He took a deep breath and tried again; "I'm sorry. Let's finish this guy off together, huh? Before we take him to the cops."
You hesitated, before nodding, tearful eyes smiling up at Toji, sending his belly tumbling. Lifting the bloodied man up by his collar, Toji grinned devilishly at him.
"Swirly..." Toji began to chant, raising his voice as you started to join in, clapping in rhythm, "Swirly, swirly, swirly--"
Other passers-by found alternate public bathrooms that day, put off by the sounds of repeated flushing and strangled wet sobs.
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Ahhh. I managed to find a bit of love even for Toji, who is so SHOCKINGLY in looks and character like my older brother 💀💀💀🫠
838 notes · View notes
itadorey · 9 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒
pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: in an attempt to distract gojo, yaga sends him on a quest to locate you; a missing member of the zenin clan with prophetic dreams. genre: pre-relationship, humor, fluff notes: college gojo makes me feral. i think he would've been a menace. i also kind of want to continue this as a series of one shots (set in the same universe but not necessarily a multi-chapter fic). wc: ~3k song inspo ♫: ruby sparks by monet ngo
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"i saw you in my dreams."
gojo chuckles at the words, a flirty smile appearing on his face as he tilts his head up to look at the person that's speaking to him. he can't help the way his eyes briefly widen when he sees your face, recognizing you as the very person he was sent to find.
he understands that yaga wants to give him a distraction, a getaway from all the shit that has happened to him in the past few years. but going undercover at the university of tokyo to locate you, a supposedly important jujutsu sorcerer, wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his post-high school years. now that you're standing in front of him, he can't really find it in himself to complain. not when he realizes just how pretty you are.
he quickly composes himself, leaning back in his seat before motioning for you to sit. you glance at the seat across from him uncertainly, refusing to move. there's a conflicted look on your face as you scan your surroundings, almost as if looking for an escape route. you look like you regret speaking in the first place.
"i'm flattered, really," gojo says, shamelessly checking you out over his sunglasses. "but that's kind of a cheesy pickup line, isn't it?"
your nose scrunches up at you look at him, and you stutter a few times as you lean against the table. gojo watches with an amused smile that quickly drops when you finally gather your thoughts. "ew! that was not an attempt to flirt with you!"
there's a moment of silence before you sigh and slip into the seat across from gojo. you place your elbows on the table, head in your hands as you stare down at the table. another minute passes before you look up, making brief eye contact with gojo's sunglasses before fully laying your head down. "listen, this is gonna sounds crazy."
"try me," gojo says, smirking as he leans forward. one of his elbows rests on the table, check in hand as he watches you struggle with your thoughts.
he's never met you before, hell, he hasn't even seen you before this moment, but the faint cursed energy that surrounds you lets him know exactly who you are. you're a member of the zen'in clan, labeled as missing when your parents fled a couple years after you were born. the discovery of your prophetic dreams had made you an instant target, and you had been so well hidden from society that even gojo and yaga had had a hard time finding you. there was absolutely no information on your childhood or adolescence, and the only way they had managed to locate you was due to a wayward curse you had taken upon yourself to exorcise. the recent spike of your cursed energy had caused an uproar in the jujutsu community, and a race had begun to see who could get to you first.
between jujutsu high, the zen'in clan, the higher-ups, and a special grade curse, gojo thought he was the best option.
"okay, come on," gojo says, standing up and stretching before pushing his chair in. you finally look up, frustration visible on your face as you stare at him. your expression quickly morphs into confusion when gojo gently grabs your arm, tugging you up from your seat and slinging your bag over his shoulder before interlocking arms with you.
"where are we going?" you ask, stumbling after him. he's taller than you, and you find yourself struggling to keep up with his long strides.
"we're gonna go get some coffee!" he says, smiling at you. "i know a place. besides, i wanna know all about those dreams you had of me."
"you don't think i'm lying to you?" you say, eyeing him skeptically. "or that i'm crazy?"
your question goes unanswered, but the look he sends you makes your stomach twist with nervousness. there's a glint in his eye that catches you off guard, and you find yourself wondering if he knows more than he's letting on.
your mind races as he walks you off campus, chatting your ear off as you go. he doesn't receive a single response from you, yet your silence doesn't seem to bother him. if anything, it only motivates him to talk even more, and you find yourself almost enjoying the way he doesn't let the silence last more than a few seconds.
"oh look! there it is," gojo says, fully capturing your attention as he motions towards a small café. it's a small, charming place, one street over, visible through the alleyway the two of you are currently standing in front of. you come to a full stop when he makes a move to walk down the alley, inadvertently pulling him back to your side when he realizes you won't budge.
"what's wrong?" he asks, leaning down to catch your eye. you're met with a startingly blue gaze, and you shift from one foot to another as you tear your eyes away from him. "oh, i know! i bet you're nervous for our date!"
"this isn't a date!" you snap, finally pulling your arm away from him. you can feel a headache coming as he giggles, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks into the alley. "wait!"
gojo halts at your words, turning around to fully face you. he watches you curiously as you take a few tentative steps forward, a shiver running down your spine when you enter the alley as well. there's a coldness seeping through your bones as you approach gojo, and when you turn to look behind you, it feels as though you've left the busy streets of tokyo completely.
"what's wrong?" gojo asks, the smile still on his face as he observes your reaction. you're almost certain that he knows something you don't at this point.
"this alley," you start, wringing your hands as you take a step back. "this is where we were. in my dream, i mean."
"and what exactly were we doing here?" gojo asks, his teasing tone earning a scowl from you. "this alley is quite inconspicuous, and we're all alone."
the insult you had ready dies on the tip of your tongue as you notice movement behind gojo, and his eyebrows furrow as he notices the sudden change in your demeanor.
"so, in my dream we were here. and you were in danger. i couldn't do anything to help and you—," you cut yourself off, nervousness coating your words as you start to close in on gojo. you ready yourself to fight, remembering every detail about your dream as the curse lurking in the alleyway reveals itself. you curse to yourself as it notices you, and you absentmindedly note that it seems be a grade 1 curse.
"and i?" gojo asks, curiosity coloring his words as he tilts his head in confusion. he hasn't moved at all, and you find yourself wondering if he can sense cursed spirits. in your dream it seemed like he could.
you inhale sharply as the curse lunges, and you notice too late that this scene isn't playing out the same way it had in your dream. you throw yourself at gojo, eyes wide with panic as you realize you're just a bit too far to reach him.
"you have to move!" you shriek, your heart pounding as gojo simply grins at you. he raises his hand silently, fingers twisting as he mutters something under his breath. the curse is killed instantly, and you find yourself collapsing to your knees as you look at gojo in shock.
"y-you—"
"me!" gojo cheers, cutting you off as he approaches you. he hauls you onto your feet and loops his arm with yours once again, guiding you past the disintegrating curse and emerging on the other side of the alley. you spare another glance back at the corpse, swallowing harshly before turning to look at the sorcerer standing next to you.
"who are you?" you ask quietly. the smile doesn't slip from gojo's face as he holds the cafe door open for you, following closely after you and guiding you to an empty table.
"how about we order first? and then i'll answer all of your questions," gojo says, picking up a stray menu and flipping through it casually as if he hasn't just taken down a grade 1 curse with ease. he notices your stare but doesn't comment on it, instead choosing to place the menu back on the table before waving over a server.
"can i get a slice of cake with two forks? oh! and two glasses of chocolate milk please."
gojo twiddles his thumbs as the two of you wait for your order, and you find yourself fully studying him for the first time since you approached him. he's sitting casually, leaning back slightly in a relaxed manner as he hums a song under his breath. when he notices your stare, he sends you a small grin and proceeds to go back to observing his surroundings.
he's much too relaxed for someone who just had an encounter with a curse, and you realize that he truly does know a lot more than you originally thought.
"here's your order!"
gojo thanks the server enthusiastically as you mutter your appreciation, your hands closing around the glass he pushes towards you without much thought.
"so, who are you?" you finally ask, repeating the question that gojo had ignored earlier. he laughs at your words, grabbing one of the forks and taking a bite of cake as he extends the other one to you. he waits for you to grab the fork, using his own to pick up another piece of cake before he notices you don't make a move to take it from him.
"what? you want me to feed you instead?" he asks, eyelashes fluttering as he gives you a flirty smile. he places the fork meant for you back on the table, leaning in closer and bringing his own fork to your mouth. "i guess that would be more date-like. okay, say ah!"
his enthusiasm dies down when he notices the frown tugging at your lips, and he deflates in defeat when you push his hand aside and reach for the other fork. you fiddle with it for a couple of seconds before placing it back down and looking at him with a glare.
"who are you?" you demand once more, your eye twitching in annoyance when gojo opens his mouth. you have no doubt he's about to say something stupid. "if you don't tell me, i will scream for help."
his mouth clamps shut as he studies you quietly, taking another bite of the cake before sighing.
"my name is gojo satoru," he finally says, holding his hand out to you as he introduces himself. you place your hand in his hesitantly, a gasp leaving you when he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. "and you, you're a zen'in."
gojo watches as your eyes go wide at his words, and you yank your hand out his grasp before looking around nervously.
"no, i'm not," you say quietly. "i've never heard that name in my life."
you receive a funny look from gojo, and he crosses his arms before snorting. "yeah, ok. i totally believe you."
"how do you know that name," you say quietly, your eyes still scanning your surroundings. your shoulders are tense, and gojo can tell that you're seconds away from sprinting out of your seat and away from him.
"it's a pretty well known name in the jujutsu world," gojo responds, his head tilting as he looks at you questioningly. "so you know about curses, but not about the clans?"
"sorry, i'm afraid learning about the politics of the jujutsu world was the least of my worries," you reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you do so. gojo thinks it's kind of endearing. "the information on curses was much more important, so i kinda just tuned out my parents when they gave me that lecture."
gojo chuckles, shaking his head slightly at your words. he leans forward without much thought, holding out three fingers as he speaks. "there's three big jujutsu families that exist. there's the kamo clan, the gojo clan, and the zen'in clan. you and i belong to two of those. and all three of them are looking for you."
you shift in your seat at his words, giving him a wary glance before shrugging nonchalantly. "so you found me first. now what?"
there's a slight nervousness to your tone, causing gojo to frown. he shrugs, grabbing his glass and taking a drink. "i dunno. i wasn't sent on behalf of the gojo clan. i was sent by yaga masamichi, the principal of tokyo jujutsu high. we have no plans to turn you over to the higher-ups, it that makes this situation any better."
"then what do you plan on doing?"
"now that, i also don't know," gojo confesses. he notices the look of irritation on your face and chuckles. "all we know is that your power is too strong to be left unchecked. now, i'm not necessarily kidnapping you, but i am asking you to return to the school with me and speak with yaga. we think there's a way that your dreams could help jujutsu sorcerers know what they could possibly be dealing with on a mission ahead of time."
"i don't think that'll be possible," you mutter, frowning down at the table. you seem lost in thought, and gojo gives you a moment of silence before he speaks.
"what do you mean by that?" gojo's voice is soft, his eyebrows knit in concern as you give him a worried look.
"i mean that i don't think my dreams are reliable," you whisper, panic lacing your words.
"they're prophetic dreams!" gojo yells quietly. "what do you mean they're not reliable."
"ok, look," you say, pausing to reach for the half-eaten slice of cake. you finally take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hum with delight. "that is good! ok, anyways, i don't think my dreams are truly prophetic."
"that's literally not possible," gojo argues, eyes wide in disbelief. "it's a part of your cursed technique! everyone knows that the zen'in clan members with this ability are never wrong."
"well they are now!"
"what do you mean by that?"
"i mean that my dream wasn't accurate," you explain, taking another bite of the cake. you ignore gojo's confused look, sighing before pushing the plate back towards him. "that dream i had of you? yeah the real-life scenario didn't play out the way it was supposed to."
gojo's stare hardens as he processes your words, and he pushed the cake aside as he looks at you questioningly. "what do you mean it didn't play out the way it was supposed to?"
"you were supposed to die," you confess, your voice no louder than a whisper. the silence between the two of you is heavy, and you wonder if your admission was much too harsh. "in my dream, the curse attacked you after i failed to protect you. i don't know what changed."
"well, i'm the strongest sorcerer alive, so there's your answer," gojo says, an uncertain smile on his face as he tries to lighten the mood. "besides, i had to step up my game. i wasn't going to leave someone as precious as you to defend yourself."
his efforts pay off as you huff out a laugh. it's weak, but it manages to dispel the heaviness that had been previously present.
"listen," gojo begins, his tone uncharacteristically serious for the first time since you've approached him. "i'm not trying to freak you out or anything, but that's incredibly strange. there has never been a zen'in prophetic dream that didn't come true. i really think you should speak with yaga, or tengen. but i won't force you to."
"tengen?" you ask, confusion on your face as you look down at the table. "who's that?"
"long story," gojo breathes, making the decision to let yaga fill you in on that. "but what do you say? i'd really like to figure this out, but i kinda need you in order to be able to do that."
there's a moment of hesitation on your end, and gojo finds himself tensing up as he waits for you to speak. he's almost certain that you're going to decline, and he's afraid that once you walk out of the café, you'll be gone forever once again. his fears are dispelled when you look up to meet his gaze, determination clearly visible in your eyes as you nod.
"okay, i'll go with you."
"great!" gojo says, his grin reappearing as he stands. he places a small wad of cash on the table before walking around the table to you and offering you his hand. you've barely slipped your hand into his before he tugs you towards him, his grin getting wider as you bump into his chest. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's walking out of the café, throwing a cursory glance around before heading down the street. "let's get out of here. we shouldn't stay in one place too long, just in case."
gojo chatters endlessly once again as you presumably head towards tokyo jujutsu high, and you find yourself staring at him as you recall your entire day in your mind. gojo satoru had single-handedly disrupted the course of fate, and neither one of you had any idea as to how.
you can feel a headache coming on the longer you stare at him, and you finally look away when he glances back at you and gives you a charming grin.
you have no idea who gojo satoru is, but if he has the power to change the course of your prophetic dreams, then you're determined to find out more about him.
and he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about that.
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reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you for reading!!
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asdfghjklmals · 3 months
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LILIES & ROSES 2.0✩༶‧˚
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GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestiveness and mentions of sex. WORD COUNT: 4.1k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dad!gojo, mom!oc. established couple.
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SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru celebrate baby gojo's first valentine's day! AUTHOR'S NOTE: happy early valentine's day everyone! sorry i've been so mia. i hope this fic will make up for my absence. the first ‘lilies & roses’ fic was for oc gojo girlfriend’s mother’s day so make sure to read that. 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!
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you and satoru woke up at exactly 5am to your five-month-old human alarm clock babbling in her snoo.
you felt slender, yet strong arms slide under your shirt to pull you closer, even if it was just for a moment. a quick, welcoming kiss by soft tender lips pressed onto your exposed shoulder blade.
“good morning, sweetheart.” satoru whispered into your ear, finally pulling away from you so he could start his morning routine with his daughter.
you turned to face him, half-awake eyes following each step from his side of the bed to your daughter’s bassinet across the room. you let out a tired sigh.
“there’s daddy’s big girl!” satoru said with a quiet, yet cheery voice. a gummy smile appeared on the face of your 5 month old baby girl. it was a smile that satoru never got tired of seeing.
he reached down to pick up sayuri, holding her close to his chest so that her head could rest on his shoulder. you saw her peeking at you. you shot a soft smile at her as her lips trembled. she wanted mommy right now. and where the hell was her milk?
before sayuri could even let out a cry for you, satoru quickly left the master bedroom and shut the door behind him. this was the start of his morning routine, bonding time with his daughter that he always looked forward to.
and so, you shut your eyes for a couple more minutes before satoru and sayuri would come back with their special delivery, your morning coffee. (read ‘morning routine 2.0’ here)
**********************
“okay, yurs—here’s the game plan,” satoru said to his baby girl, “today is something called valentine’s day. usually mommy and daddy go out on a date and then participate in love-making-physical-activities at night, but since we have you this year, i think we should change it up a little.”
sayuri drooled on satoru’s shoulder, unsure of what her father was babbling on about. she pursed her lips and continued to drool.
“we need to stop by the flower shop first so we can get her a nice big bouquet of ros—i mean lilies. those are your mommy’s favorite flower you know. did you know you’re named after them?” (read 'hello baby' here)
sayuri. sayuri meant ‘small lily’ in japanese. it was the perfect name for your perfect baby girl.
satoru continued on with explaining his plan to his partner in crime, “then—i was thinking that while you take your afternoon nap, i can cook a late lunch for mommy. i haven’t done that for her in a long time.”
satoru stirred sweet creamer into your cup of coffee and smiled. he felt as if his plan was going to be perfect—another successful valentine’s day for satoru gojo in the books.
as he imagined how the day would progress, he warmed up a packet of your stored breast milk for sayuri before she started to fuss. but sayuri gojo was no fool, she knew she was going to be fed in a few moments so she decided to give grace to her trying father. she decided that she’d throw a tantrum later.
**********************
“what do you mean you’re taking sayuri out by yourself?” you frowned after taking a sip of your morning coffee. you had hoped to spend some time with your little family today—it was valentine’s day after all.
last year, you told satoru that you didn’t want to do anything extravagant because you were still in the early stages of your pregnancy. you were nauseas and tired during your first trimester. knowing him, he would have already had a trip to somewhere tropical planned if you hadn’t told him that you wanted to stay home.
satoru mischievously grinned, rubbing salt into your wound, “we are going to have a daddy-daughter date for valentine’s day.”
“what if i wanted to have a mommy-daughter date?” you pouted back at your baby daddy, “it’s our baby girl’s first valentine’s day, can’t we spend it together?”
an imaginary lightbulb lit up above satoru’s head. he did need time to cook for you without you being in the apartment, so maybe you could take sayuri during that time.
“how about you take sayuri out for a couple hours?” satoru suggested, “we’ll be home by 2pm.”
“—but 2pm is her nap time, satoru.”
‘of course you wouldn’t forget about her nap time.’ satoru thought to himself. he shifted his milk-drunk daughter in his arms so he could face you.
“okay, how about this, sweetheart—i’ll take yurs and be home by noon. she can take an early nap, and then you can have her at 3pm. i have an appointment from 3pm-5pm anyways.”
satoru may have lied about having an appointment, but he needed to have an excuse not to be with you and sayuri so he could prepare for your valentine’s day surprise.
“can we celebrate after your appointment?” you asked eagerly. your daughter’s first valentine’s day was important to you. not only was it sayuri’s first, it was yours and satoru’s first as parents.
“of course, sweetheart.” satoru said as he leaned in for a kiss on your forehead, a sneaky grin plastering his face, “we have a tradition to uphold.”
“if sex is the tradition you’re talking about, i swear to—”
a whimpering cry interrupted your empty threat to satoru. sayuri was still hungry. she started to wail as if she was screaming, ‘more food, please!’
“—and that’s my queue to leave,” satoru said as he handed off sayuri to you. he quickly jumped out of the bed to make sayuri another bottle.
you shook your head and chuckled.
“your daddy is so silly,” you looked down at satoru gojo’s mini-me. everything you loved about satoru reflected back at you in your daughter. her slender nose, soft pink lips, and her thin white eyebrows. you had the most perfect child. of course you did, she was satoru gojo’s copy and paste.
“so baby girl—i was thinking that while we go on our mommy-daughter date, we can go see grandpa kiku and grandma fuku. daddy would be devastated if we didn’t get him anything for valentine’s day.”
sayuri looked up at you as you patted her back gently. she felt content being in your arms. it gave her comfort and soothed away any fears she may have had, just like daddy’s—and it was the exact same feelings that satoru felt whenever he was in your arms.
“then we can come back home and spend the night with daddy!” you said excitedly with a giggle, “you have to protect mommy from daddy tonight, okay?”
sayuri gojo wouldn’t understand your joke, but you knew what satoru gojo’s intentions were on a day like valentine’s day.
later that morning
“your mom must be loving the fact that she can sleep in today,” satoru chuckled to his daughter as he opened the glass door to the flower shop.
satoru, you, megumi, and tsumiki have been going to this flower shop ever since you moved to the apartment. at first, it was just convenient for satoru. satoru always bought you flowers whenever he upset you or whenever he wanted to surprise you with them just to see you smile. and now, after years of giving the flower shop owner business, you were regulars—to the point where the owner, mrs. itose, had a customized bouquet on hand made just for you whenever satoru or the kids needed it.
“good morning, satoru! good morning, miss sayuri!” the flower shop owner greeted the father-daughter duo.
satoru smiled, presenting his baby girl, “say hi to grandma itose!”
grandma itose had been around for the growth of yours and satoru’s relationship. she was like family. when you gave birth to sayuri, she sent the world’s most beautiful bouquet of lilies you had ever seen. mrs. itose placed her bets that baby gojo was going to be a girl and because of that, she was one of the first people to know sayuri’s name.
“i’m guessing you’re here for valentine’s day?” the shop owner smiled as she continued to wrap rose bouquets to sell for the day. it was a busy day for mrs. itose.
satoru scratched the back of his head and grinned, “that obvious?”
“don’t you worry, satoru. i have (y/n)’s bouquet ready for you.” mrs. itose said with a smug, yet confident grin. she wiped off her hands on a towel and walked to the back of the shop, disappearing for a moment.
satoru watched sayuri as her small, curious eyes scanned the store. her eyes were always full of wonder. she gave a gummy smile to the shop owner who smiled back at her while holding your large bouquet of lilies and roses and a smaller bouquet of lilies alongside it.
“what’s that small bouquet for?” satoru asked, knowing he didn’t order a small bouquet.
mrs. itose smacked satoru’s shoulder, “not only do you have (y/n) to buy flowers for, but you have to buy them for your daughter too!”
satoru’s heart sank. he felt guilty that he didn’t even think about buying his mini-me, his adorable little girl, a bouquet for valentine’s day. he now had two girls in his life to think about.
“i didn’t even think about that before we had sayuri.” he sheepishly admitted, giving sayuri an apologetic kiss to her chubby cheek.
“being a girl dad will make you realize a lot of things.” mrs. itose teased, “a reflection of how you treat (y/n) is a guideline to how sayuri will expect to be treated by her significant other when she grows up.”
the thought of sayuri growing up, dating, and eventually getting married gave satoru the chills. he didn’t even want to think about it. all he knew was that whoever his daughter ended up loving, they better love her the way he loved you.
“grandma itose, thank you for teaching me how to be a good dad. and you’ve always helped me be a good partner to (y/n).” satoru said with appreciation. mrs. itose was always a listening ear when he would pick up flowers after an argument.
the shop owner smiled warmly at satoru and sayuri, “have a happy valentine’s day, you two.”
satoru held the two bouquets up with his cursed technique and paid the shop owner double the amount of what the flowers actually costed. he made sure to leave before mrs. itose could say anything.
“say bye to grandma itose, yurs.” satoru sang as he held sayuri’s arm to wave goodbye.
next year, he would make sure to remember to order flowers for his precious little lily too.
later that afternoon
“i bet your daddy wishes he could be here with us.” you sang smugly as you pushed sayuri’s nuna stroller down the familiar streets of tokyo. “he loves seeing grandpa kiku and grandma fuku.”
sayuri was bundled up warmly in her swaddle, enjoying the stroller ride. her view was a beautiful you. your long black hair flowed behind you in the wind, green eyes sparkling as you looked on ahead. sayuri looked at you just like satoru did. with awe.
“i’m sorry you had to change your nap time today.” you apologized, “mommy couldn’t help it. she wanted to spend time with you too.”
you weren’t mad at the fact that satoru and sayuri always got to spend time together, in fact, you loved that they had a bond. it was more of the thought that one day, your baby girl wouldn’t need her mother anymore.
you made your way to the kikufuku stand that you and satoru had been visiting since you were high schoolers. the stall owners recognized you immediately and rushed towards you.
grandma fuku called out your names excitedly, “(y/n)! sayuri!”
“hi mrs. fuku.” you laughed, knowing exactly what she wanted. you picked up sayuri and placed her in grandma fuku’s arms as she cooed at your baby.
grandpa kiku and grandma fuku were family, just like grandma itose. you remembered the moment when your belly started showing during your pregnancy. you wanted to surprise and visit grandma fuku to see if she would notice. grandma fuku was so excited when she realized you were pregnant, she wanted to close to shop immediately so she could sit down and talk to you about motherhood. that day, even grandpa kiku ended up giving satoru a lecture on how to be a good husband and that being a dad changes your entire life.
you were grateful for the kikufuku stand couple. they had been there for you and satoru when you were both in high school. their kikufuku stand was where you and satoru had your first date, and many more dates after that. they had become important parts of your lives and you hoped that they would be in your daughter’s too. (read 'love at first fight' here)
“grandpa kiku packed up all of satoru’s favorites.” grandma fuku said with a smile as she held sayuri in her arms. your baby enjoyed being held by anyone—she was a friendly baby, just like her friendly father.
grandpa kiku called out with a grin, “we figured one of you two would be here to pick these up.”
he held out a pink box of kikufuku towards you, all in satoru’s favorite flavors. you placed them in sayuri’s stroller and quickly paid the shop owners a generous amount of money, far more than what the sweet treat was actually worth. it was the least you could do for them after all these years of satoru terrorizing their kikufuku stand.
a visit to the kikufuku shop with sayuri always lasted longer than expected. they always wanted to hold her and talk about how she was doing. in a blink of an eye, an hour had already passed. you had to meet satoru back at home.
“on our next day off, satoru and i will bring sayuri.” you promised as you placed sayuri back into her stroller.
“that would be great! happy valentine’s day, (y/n) and sayuri! tell satoru we said hi!” the shop owners called out to you.
you gave them a bright smile and waved back, “we will! happy valentine’s day! don’t work too hard!”
“make sure to have lots of babies for me!” grandma fuku made sure to add.
you laughed at her request. you were pretty sure satoru’s sobo and your grandma wanted the same thing too. but for now, you and satoru wanted to enjoy the time you had with your little accident, sayuri.
at the gojo/(l/n) apartment
on your way home, a burning smell wafted through the apartment hallways, worrying you.
“is your father already home?” you asked your daughter as if she could answer you. you already knew it was satoru, you could sense his cursed energy residuals.
you typed in the code to the pin pad lock and pushed sayuri’s stroller in. the burning smell was coming from your kitchen.
“babe, are you okay…?” you called out.
“goddamn it—oh hi sweetheart!” satoru turned around attempting to mask his apparent frustration, he sucked on his thumb that he burned while attempting to grab something from the oven.
“did you burn yourself?”
“yes…” he mumbled, “can you come kiss it better?”
you laughed at how much of a baby the strongest sorcerer could be.
“let me grab sayuri, run it under cold water first.”
while you picked up sayuri from her stroller, satoru obediently ran his thumb under the kitchen faucet, the icy cold water soothing his burn.
you approached him from behind with sayuri attached to your hip, rubbing his back in soothing circles.
“you okay, babe?” you attempted to stifle a laugh.
satoru pouted and answered dramatically, “no, i might just die right now, it hurts so bad.” as a jujutsu sorcerer, you were pretty sure he’s felt worse than a simple cooking burn.
“hold her,” you demanded while you handed your daughter off to her father, “give me your hand.”
he quickly put his hand in yours. the red spot on his thumb was starting to blister. you focused your reversed cursed technique onto his burn, water appearing from the air to cover the spot on his thumb. when you released your technique, it was as if the burn never happened.
sayuri blinked in awe as she watched you and satoru. sayuri gojo was born with cursed energy, but you and satoru didn’t know what her innate cursed technique was yet. was it limitless from the gojo clan? or was it an elemental technique from your clan?
“you’re such a baby, satoru.” you teased, “you can use reversed cursed energy yourself but for some reason, you always come to me to heal you.”
“guilty as charged.” satoru grinned before pulling you in for a kiss, “i’ll always be your baby.”
you pulled away from him, biting your lip with a seductive grin. curious sayuri leaned towards the kitchen, grabbing your attention. you turned to stare at the oven, “so what happened to my kitchen?”
“i tried to make us dinner but i forgot about the food in the oven while i was cleaning and decorating.” satoru said, face palming his forehead.
you turned to look at the decorations satoru was talking about. a large bouquet of lilies and roses and a smaller one sat on the glass dining table, rose petals decorated the floor with candles lit all around the kitchen and living room area. it reminded you of your 25th birthday. (read ‘forget me not’ here)
you blinked twice. you didn’t even notice how clean the apartment was or all the valentine’s day decorations that satoru put up when you first came through the door. the burning smell must’ve distracted you.
you walked over to the patio door to open it, airing out the burnt smell and smoke. as you made your way back to satoru, he sunk into the couch, white cushions engulfing him, sayuri sitting on his chest. she gently patted his chest as if she was consoling him.
“what’s wrong?” you asked with concern.
satoru crest-fallen, mumbled, “i had the perfect valentine’s day planned out for us, but i burnt our dinner.”
“the only thing that matters is that our apartment isn’t burnt down.” you giggled.
“but sweetheart, i wanted today to be perfect.”
“it’s already perfect,” you smiled at him and then at your daughter, “i have my perfect man, my perfect baby, and you got me flowers. what more could i ask for?”
“a perfect dinner?” satoru added sarcastically.
you shot a glare at him before grabbing his chin with your hand, positioning his face to look straight at you.
“what were you cooking anyways?”
“a prime rib roast.”
you really would’ve enjoyed that prime rib roast today, but you had to save satoru’s pride. satoru gojo couldn’t be perfect at everything.
“it’s fine, who cares about a roast!” you bluffed while letting go of his chin, “how about we get take out from sushi go?”
“not splendid sushi?” satoru asked, knowing that you liked splendid sushi, while his favorite was sushi go.
“no, we can get sushi go tonight.” you said with a smile in hopes that it would make satoru feel better, “and before i forget, sayuri and i got you something for valentine’s day.”
sayuri babbled while attempting to eat the buttons of satoru’s dress shirt. she reached for satoru face as he playfully nipped at her stubby fingers with his mouth.
you made your way back to the couch with satoru's box of kikufuku. a smile crept back on his face. he couldn’t stay mad if a box of his favorite sweets were being presented to him by an extremely captivating and beautiful woman.
“my girls went to see grandpa kiku and grandma fuku without me?” he teased, squeezing and poking at sayuri’s chubby cheeks.
“mhmm.” you laughed, “we had to make sure we didn’t forget about daddy on our mommy-daughter date.”
“speaking of forgetting… you know what mrs. itose said to me today?”
you tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue on with his story.
“she said whenever i buy flowers for you, i should buy some for yurs too. she mentioned that how i treat you is gonna be a guideline on how sayuri is going to expect to be treated from her significant other when she grows up.”
“well, mr. satoru gojo, it’s a good thing you take very good care of me and treat me very well.” you smiled back at him, eyes full of adoration for the love of your life—and the father of your child.
satoru added, “—and don’t forget i love you very much.”
you snuck a kiss on satoru's cheek, “i love you too, babe.”
you looked back at the flowers sitting on the dining table. mrs. itose’s work was beautiful. you have never received a subpar bouquet from her and satoru. you spotted sayuri’s baby bouquet, noticing hers exclusively had lilies.
“i like how baby girl gets a bouquet of just lilies but mine still have roses in there even though you know lilies are my favorite flower.” (read ‘lilies & roses’ here)
“it’s an inside joke for us now. it’d be weird if you didn’t have roses in your bouquet.” satoru chuckled as sayuri laid on his chest, looking up at you. you admired the sweet sight, your child and your lover both looking back at you with the same eyes you loved so much.
“so how about that take out order?” satoru asked with his fingers on the speed dial for sushi go.
“don’t forget my salmon nigiri!”
EXTRA:
“i’m exhausted,” satoru huffed as he laid down on his side of the bed, his arm covering his eyes and forehead.
he had spent the last two hours cleaning the oven from the failed prime rib dinner while you and sayuri went through her night routine. (read ‘grateful for you’ here)
“too tired for your love-making activities?” you asked curiously, wondering if the baby blue lingerie set you wore under your robe tonight was going to go to waste.
“for once in my life, i think i am.” satoru sighed.
you pouted, “that’s a shame. i bought the cutest lingerie set just for you. it has a garter and everything!”
satoru sat up, interested in what you had to say. “well, when you put it that way… how about you show me? is it see through? is it edible? does it have ease of access?”
you giggled at his silly questions. he pulled you into his lap as he starting to unravel your robe, tracing kisses along your collarbone, the sensation tickling you.
you sensed a familiar cursed energy waver. immediately, you put your hands on satoru’s chest, stopping him from his ministrations.
“what is it?” he asked impatiently as he bit at your hands.
you furrowed your eyebrows, “you don’t sense it? she’s gonna cry, daddy.”
satoru was hoping in all honestly that sayuri would self soothe and fall back asleep on her own.
you heard sayuri whimpering. her whimpering turned into a full on cry, your motherly instincts were spot on.
“oh come on, yurs…” satoru groaned.
“maybe next friday we can get a hotel room.” you laughed, knowing that megumi would be home for the weekend to babysit. (read ‘date night vs. babysitting night’ here)
you wrapped your robe around yourself again and stepped out of bed to comfort your crying baby. you carried your fussing daughter to the king sized bed that you and satoru shared, placing her right in the middle between you and the white haired sorcerer.
“you can sleep with mommy and daddy tonight.” you said softly as you patted sayuri gently, coaxing her to fall asleep again.
“nice one, yurs,” satoru chuckled. he noticed sayuri had stopped crying and fell right back asleep as soon as she laid in the bed with the two of you. “saving your innocent mommy from your monstrous daddy, huh?”
you laughed, remembering how you had asked sayuri to protect you from satoru earlier. satoru turned to face you and sayuri. the both of you watched as she breathed in and out, her tiny body relaxing and sleeping so peacefully in the presence of the two of you. your heart swelled watching her, she was the best thing to ever happen to you and satoru.
“happy valentine’s day, sayuri and mommy.” satoru whispered across his sleeping daughter.
you looked down at your baby girl before smiling back at satoru, “happy valentine’s day, sayuri and daddy.”
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© 2024 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.
DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG
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getodrools · 5 months
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ಇ. ns fw = (🌷) | risque = (gg) | sfw = (s) | fluff = (f) | angst = (a) | yandere = (yan) | dark content = (🌟)
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⚘ – LONG FICS! | MULTI PT!
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⚘ – ONE-SHOTS!
request. DICK APPOINTMENT –> 🌷 | “size kink toji and reader that have been sexting and calling nonstop online finally meet up.” ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader | ( wc. 3.6k + )
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⚘ – SCENARIOS! | HEADCANONS!
hcs. DRUNK IN LOVE –> 🌷 | getting tipsy with your boyfriend is fun! especially when your eyes glaze over with a little need. ft gojo, geto, nanami, and choso. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
request. ANAL WITH TOJI + SUKUNA –> 🌷 | f! reader |
request. NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS –> 🌷 | “jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked.” ft gojo, getō, nanami, sukuna, choso. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
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⚘ – DRABBLES! | PWP!
COMPARABLE FANTASIES –> 🌷 | toji proves even with new, cold attachments, he could still make you feel good regardless. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
GIVE ME A “D” –> 🌷 | cheer coach! toji has to teach the cute bimbo of the team how to arch and stretch better. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! bimbo! reader | hcs + pov.
TOYS R US –> 🌷 | toji accidentally slips your vibrator onto himself and turns his dick like one instead. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
DIFFERENT POLES –> 🌷 | step dad! toji was snooping around and found your stripping items! and blackmails you for shameful lap dances in return to keeping your little secret. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! stripper! reader | dub con. step cest.
HARD HATS –> 🌷 | construction worker! toji who is working hard rails you in his excavator. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
GIRLS NIGHT OUT –> 🌷 | pervy older bf! toji takes care of you after a girls night out. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader | dub con ( somno )
request. PUSSY DRUNK! TOJI –> 🌷 | “after reading 'drunk in love' i can now only think about drunk toji, sloppy makeouts and pussy kisses”. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader | dub con.
request. CURSORY –> 🌷 | “a reader that's lowk inexperienced but also kind of a freak !! like she asks for pussy slaps and/or wants to ride him while playing with his nipples. maybe even wanting to rub both of their nipples together while making out and riding him and she's just so cockdrunk!!” ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
request. NEVER BETTER –> 🌷 | “what's your take when possessive-ish (and slightly insecure) bf toji found out you're using sex toys whenever he's not around” ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
request. CONFESSIONS –> 🌷 | “a year ago or so i made a lil joke saying i want toji to fuck me with his gun but like.. what if he actually did?” ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader | dub con.
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⚘ – THIRSTS! | BLURBS / IMAGINES!
blurb. DAD BOD! TOJI –> sfw + f | gn! reader |
thirst. PERVY GYM COACH! TOJI –> 🌷
blurb. 20 MINS BEFORE WORK –> 🌷 | ft nanami, gojo, shiu, hiromi, and yuta. ᡣ 𐭩 | f! reader |
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<– BACK: MASTERLIST NEXT: RYOMEN SUKUNA –>
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gumiluver · 3 months
Note
Prompt 20 w geto? But the after math.. like yk, when reader keeps pushing his buttons after that 🤭 fem reader plsss
I’m feeling the vibes babe, let me give it a shot!! <3
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prompt 20: “Behave. You don’t want to see the punishments I have in mind for you.”
lover <3: suguru geto x afab!reader
byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18–minors will be blocked (DNI), wc: 1.1K
cw: smut, nsfw, pwp, afab!reader, handcuffs, slight degradation, manhandling, dom/sub dynamics
an: first request for my series special!! if you haven’t put in a request yet, they are still open! check out the guidelines here for more info :)
border credit: @/cafekitsune, pic credit: cckaisen on pinterest
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You really were testing his patience.
From the second the two of you woke up until this very moment—you had been egging Suguru on just to pull away at the very last second. The long glances, the shameless touches, the coy laugh you throw at him when he lets out a frustrated groan, a visible tent starting to form through his sweats. It was all adding up on him where he could, quite literally, feel his rationality start to slowly slip through his fingers.
He doesn’t hide it either—in fact, he wants you to see what you’re doing to him. A part of him honestly hopes that when you see the dark stain of his precum fade into his sweats that you’ll finally break and bend to his will.
But of course you had…different plans, to say the least.
At first it was fun, getting pampered and dotted on by such a pretty little thing like you, his loving sweetheart. Feeling your nimble fingers play with his hair, his chest, his cock—of course it was going to drive him towards the point of breaking. Hell, a single touch from you at this point would probably get him to cum in his pants prematurely.
You knew what you were doing to him too—taunting the big beast with a supple treat, but right when he goes in for the kill you spring up, giving a lame excuse like shoko or gojo texting you about an emergency, and all he can do is watch as you flaunt your pretty ass to the other room with a small giggle and mischievous glance.
Such a tease.
Sure—he’s a patient man, but what you’re doing to him was just downright cruel. He can’t help but wonder how much longer you’ll play with your food, feeling his own composure slip every second you even look at him. And fuck—is that a new perfume you’re wearing today? It’s making his mind turn into mush; you’re making him turn into mush.
And yet again here you are, sittin’ pretty on your Sugu’s lap, straddling his toned waist as he rested his hands on your hips, gently rocking you to and fro—aching for more of your touch, for more of you.
“Fuck baby, need to fuck you,” he grunts, brows furrowed and veins bulging from his arms. He grits through his teeth, trying his best to restrain himself and his perverted desires of punishing you. Call him vindictive, but he’s just aching to give you a little taste of your own medicine—for his pleasure, of course. He smirks wickedly, a sinister thought coming to his mind as he quickly switches the position the two of you are in—figuratively and literally.
You yelp at his actions, the sudden change in demeanor making you feel as if you had whiplash. You feel Suguru press his clothed groin harder and faster against your pussy, as if he were trying to fuck you through his clothes. Times like these made him wish he had his friends six eyes ability, wanting to forever imprint the entirety of your pleasure filled body into his brain and see your energy build, and build, and build until you can’t do anything but release it—lost in your own desires.
You figured he’d caught on to your antics with the way he’s gripping your wrists tightly above your head, rendering you helpless to his mercy. Big doe eyes meet sharp primal ones, and like prey getting caught you feign innocence—playing with your food a bit more.
And he does not appreciate that one bit.
Suguru growls, diverting his gaze from your face by diving into the crook of your neck. He knows he’ll give in if he meets your gaze, ultimately a sucker for pleasing his pretty girl. Instead, he gives you gentle nips and licks that decorate your neck, and trails his lips to ghost over the shell of your ear, his daunting voice reverberating throughout your body “Behave. You don’t want to see the punishments I have in mind for you.”
And of course, you just had to tempt the beast—per usual.
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“Shhh baby, I know,” he coos at you, soothing the skin on your soft ass. Red marks adorn your glowing cheeks after taking him so well, and suguru can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt when he sees you cringe.
But then again, he wasn’t quite sure if that was a cringe of pain or pleasure—considering he’s got you stuffed full of his cock as you lay pitifully on top of him, and fuck did it make all the teasing worth it.
“S-sugu, I ca-*hic*-can’t…n-no more,” you cry, taking in his sharp and deep thrusts with a whimper and cry. Your wrists are cuffed behind your back, helpless to your lovers ministrations. The hand that was soothing your red ass moves slowly to the small of your back to press you further into him and sink you deeper onto his cock. The groan he lets out is ravenous, and he snickers at your yelp when you take him to the hilt, remaining composed as he ignores your pleas for mercy.
You really didn’t think he’d react so strongly to some teasing as simple as this, but seeing your usually stoic boyfriend become so primal and unhinged was a sight so sacred that it made you yield to him.
You—his little firecracker—were finally under his demand, and he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip from his fingers. He’ll make sure to take his time and draw out each and every one of those mind-numbing orgasms that Suguru and only Suguru can pull out of you, wanting to imprint this memory into your mind and show you just how mean your sugu baby can be.
“Oh yes you can, and you will,” he growls, giving you another sharp thrust that has you yelping and clenching your jaw. He smoothes the arch of your back, calming your poor, aching body—a sinful balance of dominance and praise that makes you willingly croon and comply.
His other hand surprises you by coming up towards the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. Your wince tells Suguru that your feigning innocence again, because what good girl would clench their pussy so tightly when they get their hair pulled like a common slut?
“You dug your grave, and now you’ll lie in it, pretty girl. Take your punishment nicely, or I promise it’ll be worse.”
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an: if you are interested in submitting a request, make sure to check out the guidelines for requesting!! <3
As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators
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bnpd · 1 month
Text
❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞
OFFICIAL 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
FAN FIC WORD COUNT: 20K+
WARNING TAGS: Modern!AU, no cursed magic, small age gap, Gojo is 30-31, reader is 24-25, hurt/comfort, angst, SLOW-BURN, torn PCL injury (not gojover), gojo lore, alcohol, dumb/clueless gojo, self-assured reader, groveling, nameless reader, nameless cousin, playboy gojo (he has a reputation), SMUT 18+, oral, penetrative sex, hand jobs, blow jobs, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, semi-public sex (locker room), vanilla/soft sex, make-up sex, tension, cum eating, squirting, semi-manhandling (consensual), hair pulling, vocal gojo (whimpers/groans/moans), prone-bone position, missionary, doggy, and standing up sex.
Based off the movie: Just Wright !
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STATUS: Ongoing
001 — LONG SHOT : 8K.
↳ 05/02/2024.
002 — LONG SHOT : 7K
↳ 05/07/2024
003 — LONG SHOT : ?K
↳ TBA
004 — LONG SHOT : ?K
↳ TBA
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TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @seajunie : @woahguy278 : @4townn : @miiyaaswrld : @forest4bee : @fadingpalacebonkpsychic : @usercpat : @rainzelenia : @bloopsstuff : @purplegemadventures : @cowsforkenji : @wateronlyhaha : @poet-dae : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @thvamour : @gojocupid : @julsssssss : @ssleepycenzi : @ri-sa20 : @3lliesrifle : @a-trashbag : @mjsnightmares : @forever-war : @en40p : @aishies-stuff : @allofffmypeaches : @laviefantasie : @ritsatoru : @ssleepycenzi : @roscpctals99 : @noyaskneepad : @dearneverland : @platrom : @jaegersity : @rjswrld : @semra4 : @loversjoy : @gojonegs : @uziwork : @sushiimara : @misspoptart05 : @sapphireandange : @honoredalone : @notmazikeen : @liannele9 : @chanelmalandro : @jotarohat : @fartm : @sunarinss : @ivy-vivii : @ioveartfilm : @goreedo11 : @manyno : @altyx : @cielhidalgo : @vestasrants : @deluluforcarlos55 : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @gojostit : @lialia3945 : @simp-plague : @fuckerenyaeger : @jaelahh : @rintcrous : @nvmlolo : @miabiaria : @lavender-hvze : @vixzat : @minidrake : @um-no-ok :
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feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my taglist:
©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.
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sughuru · 5 months
Text
seventh of december
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- gojo satoru x reader
Satoru was never one to celebrate his birthday. Matter of fact, he actually hated it. Except on three occassions.
genres/warnings: fluff, birthday fic, kinda rushed tbh, not proofread
notes: happy birthday gojo, i know you're alive pls come back :((( anyways enjoy, i kinda rushed this bc i still have some school stuff to do so i hope you guys understand! as always, english isn't my first language so pls excuse my grammatical and spelling errors
home | masterlist
--
The seventh of December. A date to remember, a date that will go down in history. This is because it was the day Gojo Satoru was born. Born into the renowned Gojo clan, he is the first in 400 years to possess both the Limitless and Six Eyes. However, that’s all they ever celebrated about. The seventh of December was the day the strongest sorcerer alive was born.
Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements.
All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions. 
The first birthday he ever genuinely enjoyed was celebrated with his high school friends, Suguru and Shoko.
Satoru checked his flip phone and noticed the endless SMS notifications from relatives to clan members he doesn’t even know the face of. He's well aware that these messages are only a formality, driven by respect and perhaps a tinge of fear. Deep down, he understands that some clan members harbor hatred at the fact that his parents were the ones to give birth to the next Limitless and Six Eyes user. He knows they all secretly pray for his downfall. Aside from that, if it wasn’t out of respect or fear, perhaps they wanted or needed something from him.
"Satoru," Suguru called to his friend, who was lost in thought on the sports court. Satoru looked up and acknowledged Suguru with a nod. In response, Suguru mouthed, "Come here," while waving him over.
The white-haired male walked towards Suguru, “hah? What’s this all about?”
Suguru brushed off his friend and kept walking, ignoring Satoru's attempts to get his attention. This annoyed Satoru even more. "Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!" Satoru whined in the most grating voice imaginable, prompting even Suguru to question why he was friends with him.
Suguru shot a glare at Satoru, “maybe if you just shut up and follow me, we’ll get there sooner.” 
"Why can't you tell me now? Where are we going? Wow, are you here to take me somewhere quiet and kill me there?" Satoru quipped with a sarcastic tone.
"If you don't stop asking questions, yeah," Suguru replied dryly. Satoru rolled his eyes but continued to follow his friend.
Before long, they arrived at their classroom. Suguru opened the door to reveal a sight that surprised Satoru— all their friends were inside wearing party hats. Even Nanami and Ijichi were there.
"Gojo!" Shoko waved excitedly at the tall male. Suguru grinned, saying, "Happy birthday, Satoru," as he patted his friend on the back. He then led Satoru into the room to join the celebration with their friends.
It was a simple birthday, really. Celebrated among friends and closed ones. Nevertheless, Satoru regarded it as one of his favorite birthday memories.
The following year, Suguru left, and once again, he hated his birthday. Shoko was there to celebrate with him but it wasn’t the same without Suguru. After all, the trio did everything together.
“Happy birthday.” Shoko hands him a bag of kikufuku picked up from a store down the street. Before he could thank her, she was already off to treat some first year who got injured on a mission.
Oh right, they’re third graders now. The final year and final step to being a true Jujutsu Sorcerer.
After Suguru left, Satoru met with two kids and took them in. Megumi and Tsumiki, aged five and eight, respectively. While Tsumiki was generally well-behaved, Megumi proved to be a bit troublesome due to his sharp wit and sarcastic nature. Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he had been similarly mischievous as a child.
The second time he enjoyed his birthday was when he went home that day.
“I’m home…?” He was about to call out the kids, but heard someone bustling in the kitchen. Kitchens clanging and the water running.
"Don't touch that, Gojo-san said we shouldn't use the stove!" Tsumiki warned.
"Well, how do we make something before he gets home then?" Megumi interjected.
"Should we just serve it like this..." Tsumiki examined the plate before her. Megumi deadpanned at his older sister, "A banana on a plate?"
“Shhh! I hear him coming!”
Satoru giggled to himself, hearing their whole conversation, he peeked in the kitchen, “woah, what did you guys do while I was gone?”
Tsumiki and Megumi froze before slowly turning around, “s-surprise!” the two said.
"Happy birthday, Gojo-san. Thanks for taking us in!" Tsumiki presented him with... a banana on a plate.
Satoru smiled, charmed by their efforts. "Aw, did you two prepare this for me?" He didn't want to hurt their feelings, and truthfully, he was genuinely touched by their gesture.
“We also have our own gifts too aside from the cake-” 
“Banana.” Megumi corrected.
Tsumiki was the first to present her gift to Gojo. "I hope you like these!"
As Satoru received the gift, he couldn't help but recall the evening a few weeks ago when Tsumiki had asked him to accompany her to get origamis, claiming it was for a school project. Little did he anticipate that those origamis were intended for him. Tsumiki had crafted a jar filled with meticulously folded paper stars, each one carefully placed inside.
Megumi was next, shyly handing Gojo a birthday card. "Happy birthday," he muttered, avoiding eye contact with Satoru. Satoru couldn't help but smile, affectionately ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Oh, you're so cute. Let's see what you drew, hm?"
Opening the card, Satoru observed that Megumi's handwriting had improved. The small card read, "Happy bday Gojo." It was evident that the boy hadn't quite figured out how to spell "birthday" yet.
Satoru promptly hung Megumi's card on the fridge door and placed the jar of stars in a cabinet alongside other souvenirs for display. "Thanks for making my birthday great, guys."
The trio gathered for a photo to commemorate the moment. In the picture, Megumi frowned at the camera while Satoru and Tsumiki beamed with smiles. To this day, that photo remains tucked in Satoru's wallet, a cherished reminder of his first celebrated birthday with the kids.
After hearing Shoko and Megumi's stories about how they used to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, you found yourself pondering how to surpass the efforts of those two. You bought a small cake from a local bakery shop recommended by Nanami.
“That girl was really nice, I should go visit again next time.” you muttered to yourself as you walked back home. 
Satoru shouldn’t be home for another hour so you got to work. You printed pictures of him in high school, his baby pictures, pictures of him and the kids, students, pictures of you two; you transformed them into small cake decorations. Carefully pasting each one onto a wooden stick, you inserted them into the cake.
"Babe, I'm home." Satoru tossed his keys onto the table and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Today was such a long day at work," he whined.
You kissed his cheek. "Aw, is my baby tired?" you cooed, to which he nodded and began smothering you with kisses.
"Well, I hope you're not tired of blowing out some candles." You handed him the small birthday cake adorned with pictures of his face. Satoru's eyes immediately lit up. "You did this all for me?" he exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Well, I know it doesn't compare to what Shoko and the kids did, but..." you started to say.
Satoru immediately cut you off, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "But it's perfect. No comparison needed. This is the best surprise, and it's all from you." He pulled you into a tight hug, expressing his gratitude and affection.
"I can't believe you went through all this trouble for me. You really know how to make a birthday special." Satoru continued, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.
"Come on, let's have some cake before I start crying from how sweet you are," Satoru teased, leading you over to the table.
As you both enjoyed the cake, adorned with those little memories on sticks, Satoru couldn't help but comment on each photo. "Ah, high school me, can't believe you found these. And look at Megumi's grumpy face, classic!" His laughter filled the room, creating an atmosphere of joy and celebration.
As the evening unfolded, you exchanged stories, shared laughs, and basked in the warmth of the moment. It might not have been as elaborate as previous celebrations, but the personal touch made it uniquely special. Satoru couldn't stop expressing his gratitude, making you feel that all the effort was more than worth it.
"There's one more thing," you said, leaving the table briefly and returning with a bag. "It's not the best, but..."
You handed him the bag, and as Satoru peeked inside, he found a red scarf carefully knitted by you. His eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers over the soft fabric.
"Did you make this?" he asked, with admiration in his voice. The warmth in his eyes showed just how much he appreciated the thoughtful gesture. "I love it, thank you." He wrapped it around his neck, a cozy addition to the perfect birthday surprise you had prepared for him.
The seventh of December. A date to remember, a date that will go down in history. This is because it was the day Gojo Satoru was born. Born into the renowned Gojo clan, he is the first in 400 years to possess both the Limitless and Six Eyes. However, that’s all they ever celebrated about. The seventh of December was the day the strongest sorcerer alive was born. Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements. All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions.
The first occasion was when Suguru surprised him with his friends. The second was when the kids, Megumi and Tsumiki, brought a touch of innocence and joy to the day, making it about connection and family.
And now, as the day came to a close, the third occasion unfolded. You, with your thoughtful surprises and genuine affection, turned a day usually marked by the weight of power into a celebration of love and connection. Satoru found something he hadn't expected — a day to cherish, not for his abilities, but for the people who chose to celebrate him simply for being him. Satoru no longer hates his birthday, and he looks forward to his upcoming birthdays.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 6 months
Text
❝ PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME (PLEASE DON'T FALL) ❞
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | Nanami Kento x male!reader | arranged marriage, angst no comfort (serious) | sub. bttm. reader (AMAB) | wc: 23K | not proofread
warnings: hint/implied SH through passive means (no descriptions), loss of virginity, blowjobs, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence, yn's low-key going insane masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
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authors note: this is going to have an open-ended ending so you can let your imaginations run wild. also, I'm sorry it took so long to publish this but I hope it satisfies you! also also - i truly apologize for how frantic the shibuya arc is as I'm an anime watcher so (T T) they'll be no continuation of this fic but there'll be a one-shot fic of nanami kento x reader having some sweet moments just for the heck of it along with a short fic of gojo and yn's wedding day...maybe.
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“This is nice,” he murmurs. Uncaring of the water trickling into the shape of his leather shoes or how it makes his clothes cling onto him like a heavier second skin. It’s cooling, feeling like relief that was manifested into a palpable form. Pulsing, moving, pushing, and pulling as the shadows undulated. Sunlight dances on the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it can.
Your arms around him make him grin. He reaches to hold you, the rarest of treasures appearing on his face as he feels your lips press onto his left cheek. 
He holds your flesh with a gentle squeeze. The weight of you on his back is like a comforting blanket draped over him; he kisses the delicate muscles and marks you have. You burrow your face into his neck, he closes his eyes and chuckles. "I'm sorry, my love."
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“You’re going to make me late.”
It grins wide and proud at the sight of your disgruntled face. The cursed spirit was as ugly as a piece of dogshit on the street. Smelled like it too. It was a semi-special grade that had popped up in an abandoned hospital. It was the subject of a bountiful amount of paranormal fans, which meant a handful of people and teenagers had disappeared after entering its premises.
Ah, didn’t I go on a mission like this once? You thought to yourself.
“Or was it Utahime’s mission?” you muttered.
She — the curse — opens her split mouth to screech. Her white hair flies behind her as she furiously charges towards you. The corners of your mouth twist in disgust. What a wretched being. Her hands were bound behind her back as she was in a straight jacket. So far, her attacks had been long-distance but the ones that truly hurt were when she got close enough to sink her teeth in.
The chunk of missing flesh on your hand was proof of that. It was covered by your tie but those blackened veins were a clear sign of trouble if you didn’t exorcise her.
“Yeah, yeah. Come and get it, bitch.” Tucking in your chin while taking a quick breath as her horrendous form gets closer, you feel the familiar rush of energy flowing through you. She was running like a bat out of hell. Her chin probably would’ve been shaved off if she bent any lower — her disgusting mouth was slobbering all over as she unhinged her jaw. She lunges and you release a breath. With your outstretched hand, palm facing up, you press the sides of your pointer and middle finger together. The curse screams, her teeth now a hair away from biting the tips of your finger off.
“Divine Flame.”
The birds seem to freeze midflight and the ants appear static; even the clouds above the building had been glued in place. She sees your lips split into a grin, a puff of air that mocks hers as she struggles to breathe. The curse drags her ruby-red eyes to the spark of black that ignites on your fingertips. "Gods Blade."
A second ago, she was so close to taking your wretched hand off and leaving it a bloody stump. Her stomach wants nothing more than to savour the flesh of a sorcerer and hear him scream in agony as she triumphs in the fight. The memory of it, the bright flash of white that burned her skin off her flesh. She can still taste it in her mouth, she can feel the phantom pain of it slicing the back of her throat. Everything tasted like smoke and blood. As you kick her head, she tumbles until she is gazing up at the sky.
The sky?
What happened to the roof?
The sight of her shaking pupils made you scoff. The building was torn down. Sliced cleanly in half according to the angle of your fingers; everything your technique made contact with was bright orange, smoking, and singing. Cement crumbles into ash, and metal turns to oozing and bubbling liquid.
“Shit. I haven’t used that move in a while. I’m sorry, I’m in a rush, okay? I think I went overboard.” Thankfully, Kiyotaka had raised a veil or else you’d never hear the end of it. The building shudders with each step you take. She watches as you crouch next to her, grabbing a fistful of her white hair and bringing her eyes level with yours.
“Not that you don’t deserve it. You glutton. 14 people in three weeks? You brought this on yourself.”
Her eyes fill with tears as she feels your palm warm and warm and then it burns. Her screams were like nails on a chalkboard but you bore through it. Staring into the black flames that consume her you ponder about your agenda; those spikes of fury remind you of Megumi’s gravity-defying hair.
“You’re really shitty, you know that right?” she’s down to her bones now and it’s slowly piling up into a mountain of ash. Still, she finds it in herself to scream. “Your crappy domain was creepy. It’s been a while since I’ve been back in Japan. I’m just settling in. You were supposed to be a simple mission. Now you fucked up my hand and I’m covered in soot.”
Suguru would surely laugh at you. He often did when you were muttering to dying curses. It was a habit you formed, wanting to annoy them to the very end about your minuscule grievances. They weren’t to you but the curse spirits probably felt like tearing your head off as they died.
“(Y/N), you’re really unique, huh?” Suguru leaned against the red-bricked wall with his arms stuffed in his pockets. Shoko watched impassively by his side, holding a plastic bag filled with burn relief gel. It’s not as though your flames burn you. The heat they produce stung your skin. You suppose you’ve built endurance to it but you appreciate your friends pampering you; your clan was ruthless in fine-tuning your abilities, and there was no such thing as pain-relief creams or gels.
The (L/N) weren’t like the Major 3 of Japan. They were considered to be imitations. Mocked for their gaudy technique names and overzealous attack styles but weak bodies. In order to chase after the huge power gap, your clan brought the children to their knees. Grinding them forcefully on whetstones; until they either become sharp-edged or they break.
As the son of the head of your clan, breaking was not an option.
Luckily for them, you were blessed with a powerful curse technique. Unluckily for you, you were blessed with a powerful curse technique.
Your pout makes him smile. “Calling me unique feels like an insult, Su-Su,” you turn your attention toward the husk of a curse. He was pinned to the wall with one of Suguru’s spear-wielding curses as he was being toasted by your curse technique.
“I’m just trying to make them pass on easily.”
The curse warbles its disapproval as he shakes his head, its skin flaking and smoking. Shoko crouches beside you, unboxing the gel after you spread your fingers and exorcise it.
“I think it might’ve cursed you instead,” Satoru appears with canned drinks. He presses it tenderly to your warm cheeks as Shoko tends to your hands. “Here, you did most of the work today,” he thinks nothing of how flushed you seem and simply shrugs it off when you avert your gaze. Satoru ruffles your head, which erases the blush into nothing but annoyance,
“Man, can you believe we’ll be second-years soon? We’ll have juniors to bully,” Satoru says with too much glee. Suguru knocks the back of his knees with his own and Shoko and you barely muffle your laughter.
Kiyotaka smiles warmly as he spots you. It falls as his veil disappears to reveal the ruined building.
“Mr. Gojo…” Kiyotaka gasps with his hands curled to his chest. He must be pissed, Kiyotaka thinks as he glances your way. “Mr. Gojo!” you lift a hand to stop him from fretting over your bleeding hand, unknowingly showing him your fingertips.
“You used — “
“Principal Yaga won’t appreciate my tardiness, Kiyotaka.” The tie around your gaping wound unravels and he rushes to open the car door for you. “Ms. Ieiri will tend to me just fine, I’m not going to die. Oh, and please just call me (Y/N), Kiyotaka. Honestly, we’ve known each other for so long, I feel bad if you kept calling me using honorifics.”
How can he be married to Satoru? He thought as he nodded at your words. Half the time he’s expecting to be beaten up by Satoru, the way he speaks sometimes is as if he is deaf to how crass it is. As he rushes to get into the driver's seat, you try your best to tend to the soot and ash on your fingertips.
Kiyotaka watches you from the mirror. What worries him is the missing chunk from your left hand. The irritated edges and bulging veins weren’t easing his worries either. “Mr. Gojo,” you lift your head with a polite grin. Kiyotaka unconsciously returns it.
“Your husband left some burn relief gel at the back of the driver's seat,” he says. It leaves you stunned. He says nothing as your cool expression turns bashful. He was glad to see you find relief despite your twitching wound.
“I’ll drive you there as fast as I can, Mr — “
“Kiyotaka,” you huff.
“M-Mr — Mr. (Y/N).”
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It’s strange what a familiar sight can do. Seeing the peeks of the sloped rooftops made your palms clammy. This was a form of torture and of that you are certain.
With every step taken to climb towards your destination, the wind carries forgotten voices and laughter. This school was a picture you kept in a box under your bed; meant to collect dust and only seep out through the cracks in the forms of nostalgia. Seeing it materialize the closer you get makes your throat tighten. The tree branches dance in the wind and sunlight falls into step. This would be scenic in any other circumstance.
You had no one to blame but yourself. Satoru may have pestered you to agree but he didn’t force your hand; you caved in all by yourself.
‘ Get a grip, ‘ you scolded yourself. This was doable. The anxiety that’s coursing through your veins does not compare to everything you’ve already been through. First-day jitters are all it is. Megumi will be there with his friends, Yuuji and Nobara.
Along with them, Satoru’s other students would meet you again!
They were all great kids (and an amazing panda). You’ve only ever seen them in passing, sometimes Satoru would’ve asked for you to meet him whilst his students were already there. They were a memorable bunch. Meeting with a cast-aside Ze’nin daughter had shocked you. It was no surprise she narrowed her eyes at you.
It was fair. The elitist nature of the major clans of the sorcery world was hard to escape and unlearn. Satoru could escape unscathed due to his curse techniques, spoiled by everyone and entrusted as head of the Gojo clan the second he was deemed worthy enough. But for Maki? She had to steel herself when your eyes landed on her. Especially because you were dressed in traditional attire, the silk of your clothes decorated with the sigil of your clan and Gojo's (your half-sibling had just been born, so you wore it to celebrate her first birthday).
You simply offered a downward gaze and nodded as a greeting. Flashing her a quick show of teeth that you showed to Toge and Panda as well.
“Mr (Y/N), are you okay?” Kiyotaka’s hands hover over your shoulder. You’ve half a mind to swat them away. He means well but at the moment you need someone whose heart isn’t racing louder than yours. It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. You weren’t going to die, Kiyotaka just needed to get that memo.
“I’m well. Let’s just hurry before — “
“(Y/N)?” Satoru's presence causes Kiyotaka to stiffen up like a board. His footsteps approach you from behind. You prepare for the questions he's bound to ask. He doesn't say much, simply does a once-over on you, then focuses on the bloody bandages around your hand. An attempt to hide it behind you was made though he’s already reaching to pull it into the light.
“Satoru, it’s fine. Shoko can fix it up, I’m already late. Principal Yaga is going to have my head.” Satoru reluctantly lets your wrists fall. “You’ve got 25 minutes before the meeting actually starts. I built a reputation for being 7 minutes late for a reason. Why doesn’t anyone else abuse it?”
The twitch of your brow makes him grin. Satoru greets Kiyotaka with a nod and he promptly greets the couple a goodbye.
Satoru stays. It seemed as though Satoru was following along on your impromptu trip to Shoko’s.
“He’s excited to see you, even though he won’t say it,” he turns his head in your direction. “He sure is attached to you. All he ever does is be snarky to me. How come I’m getting all the teen angst?” he makes you guffaw.
“Can you blame him, Satoru?” you snort. “Megumi is pretty guarded after what his step-mom and his father did. I don’t blame you for taking on so many missions either but I did end up staying home more often compared to you. Besides, you’re love language of gift-giving looks more like buying love sometimes.” Satoru’s jaw goes slack and his brows pinch into that annoying expression.
“You’re saying I’m like a rich benefactor rather than a parent?”
“More like a gay uncle who likes giving expensive gifts,” you grunt as he tugs on the lobes of your ears. He’s not that offended by your words, it’s not as though you’re denying that he cares for Tsumiki and Megumi. Simply stating that they still hadn’t bridged the gap. Partly due to his frequent goings and partly due to Megumi’s abandonment issues.
It must sting to know your father sold you to a family who only cared about your abilities. It’s no wonder he keeps his walls high. You’re excited to see his friends climbing it, hoping his fortune is as bountiful as his name.
“Must you be so blunt, husband?” Satoru opens the door for you, eyeing the stains on your shirt. "I heard it was a semi-special grade," you shudder at the reminder, "did she cause you so much trouble? It's been a while since you've used God's Blade."
The fluorescent lights of Shoko's don't help your nerves. The theme of today seems to be revisiting memories. The chill in the building does not ease you in the slightest. It reminds you of the same eerie hallway you'd be escorted to, the sickening green-blue lines of light that light the path would make your palms clammy every time. Those five men were akin to statues as they held onto the thickly bound rope plastered with talismans.
"She couldn't talk just yet but managed to create a weak domain. I don't know why. I wasn't expecting it. It was so unsettling."
Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders, stroking your shoulder as he steers you through the hallway. He knows you don't like long hallways with cold lights. Satoru doesn't ask the why's or what's. Those rigid lunches and dinners with your father and stepmother are all he needed.
Shoko's eyebrows jump at the sight of the both of you walking in.
"Hello, lovebirds," she stands from her chair, "d'you guys need some condoms or something?" The joke earns her an unamused expression while Satoru just chuckles.
"My dearest husband was injured in battle."
Your exclamations of protest fall on deaf ears as Satoru forces you to sit at Shoko’s check-up station. She idles over, pushing Satoru away with a gloved hand. Her touches are careful and light as she takes a close look at the wound.
Then, she grasps your other hand and you can’t help the gentle smile that graces your face as she tuts at the sensitive skin. “You’re here to meet the Principal, right? This won’t take long. You owe me dinner.”
“Yes, Ms Ieiri,” you coo. It was an odd sensation, to feel your flesh regrow, veins stitching together as muscles intertwine. Meanwhile, Satoru is moving around in her office, sticking his head in cabinets and drawers while you wash your hands. Shoko does nothing to stop your meddling husband.
“Found it!” Just as you turn, Satoru’s face looms over yours. Your gasp is choked on the lollipop he puts in your mouth. Shoko’s stethoscope is looped around his neck and her spare doctor's coat makes him look absolutely ridiculous.
"A treat for being such a good boy at the doctor's office today!"
“Those might be expired, by the way,” Shoko says. “‘Toru!” he giggles unabashedly, avoiding your wrath with glee.
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“Mr. Gojo is married!?”
Megumi regrets ever saying it in the first place. Nobara and Yuji are staring at him with wide eyes, practically sparkling with curiosity.
“Did you guys not see the ring on his finger?” The chair creaks as he leans back, crossing his arms as they place their elbows on his desk. “Now that you mentioned it, I have noticed it. I didn’t think he was married,” Nobara tilts her head. “I mean, I guess he is pretty good husband material,” Yuji says. “He’s strong, handsome, and he’s generous too!”
“The lip balm he wears is expensive too,” Nobara nods as she speaks. “It’s not that expensive,” Megumi mumbled though the two simply ignored him. He was on another financial level. His standard of ‘expensive’ had been skewered.
“He just doesn’t seem like he has a wife. How does she put up with his childish attitude?”
Footsteps come from the hallway. Megumi says nothing as Nobara and Yuji press their faces to the indoor windows, trying to steal glances. His heart picks up its pace as he clasps his hands together. He kept his guard up for a reason. He expects disappointment so he can never feel that fear of abandonment — a childish wish. Your trips overseas were something he didn’t think would make him fearful again, so he iced them out the best he could. But now that you were back, he felt entirely too excited.
“Shh! Itadori, shut up! Let me sit here!”
They wrestle for the chair closest to the door. The ridiculousness of it has Megumi hiding his smile behind his palm, rolling his eyes fondly. Nobara wins and Megumi buries the feeling of excitement that Yuji is sitting close.
The doors rattle open to reveal Satoru. The silence that greets him disturbs him enough to hesitate to take a step inside. Instead, he stretches his neck and lets his head jump from one student's face to the other.
“Is this some sort of ambush? Why are your faces so intense?”
“Mr Gojo!” Yuji exclaims (he doesn’t need to). Raising from his seat, Yuji plants his palms on his desk and speaks: “Is it true that you’re married and that your spouse is going to be teaching us?”
Satoru beams, one long leg crossing over the threshold. Megumi spots a flash of (H/C) coloured hair and no matter what he does he can’t stop his heart from squeezing in anticipation.
“A guy like me? Of course, I’m married!” Satoru wiggles his fingers in the air. The ring is a simple silver band with a beautiful gem held preciously by silver roots. It was personal, something that would twinkle under the light but remain bashful in any other setting; it didn’t make it any less beautiful or inexpensive.
Nobara stands next. “What is she like? How does she put up with you? Is she cool?”
Soft laughter floats inside. Megumi’s shoulders hug his neck as you walk into the room. You were dressed in a nearly identical faculty uniform to Satoru’s though there were little adjustments and accessories here and there that made it more your own.
“They’ve been your student for less than a week, and they already wonder how your spouse puts up with you, husband,” your eyes meet Megumi’s and turn warmer. Nobara and Yuji gasp, eyes going comically wide as they stare at you.
“They’re overexaggerating. I’m an amazing teacher.” Electing to ignore your pouting husband, you address the first-year students with your hands politely folded in front of you.
‘ Ah, always so proper, ‘ Satoru thinks. It’s probably where Megumi’s manners got reinforced because it sure as hell wasn’t from Satoru. You really were a marvel. How lucky would anyone be to be yours? An idea popped into his marvellous brain. Satoru suppresses his urge to rub his hands together schemingly though hopes Nanami won't mind that he meddles a bit with his mission.
“My name is Gojo (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet all of you. Mr Gojo has told me what promise all of you show.”
Yuji doesn’t pretend not to notice the way your eyes linger on him. He stiffens up, jaw locking as he feels his tongue spasm. Your eyes — the colour of it seemed to sway, like a flame dancing in the dark. It was spine-chilling.
To stand next to Gojo Satoru, to be his husband — to be his equal. Yuji imagines you must be strong. He wonders what your curse technique is. He is not the only one wondering. Deep in the recesses of his soul, four eyes split open and illuminate the darkness.
“We were thinking of taking all three of you on a field trip around Tokyo!” Satoru says with glee.
“It better not be like yesterday’s trip to Roppongi,” Nobara mutters. You glance towards Satoru, brow raised in question while he laughs innocently at Nobara’s accusing glare.
Megumi takes note of the smell of ash, and cobalt gaze immediately dropping to your folded hands and narrowing as he notices how irritated your fingertips look.
“You’ll enjoy this trip, trust me. Everyone can show off their skills to Mr Gojo, even Megumi,” Satoru said. Megumi's cheeks burned at the callout despite that, he was excited. He learned a lot in those 4-months and he has much to show you. Nobara snickers at his annoyed expression but catches Yuji’s lack of response. Satoru did as well though since there were no marks or mouths sprouting on his face he elected to wave it off as him being stunned by you.
For being a man? Surely, not. Perhaps for your handsomeness? That seems very likely.
It wasn’t as though he was sullen, just tight-lipped as he smiled and guffawed at the ongoing conversation.
“You may call me Mr (Y/N). It might be confusing for everyone if you both refer to us with our surnames." Satoru pretends not to grimace at the lame excuse. It was not for their sake. It was for yours and his. In 8 months, you would no longer bear the heavy weight of his name, placing it on a mantle of your victories and regrets.
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“Gojo?” Kento’s voice causes you to jump. He felt bad for disturbing you from your reading, you looked so peaceful. It's been a while since he's found time to sit down and digest the words of a book. The mountain of unread literature in his home begs for a crumb of his attention — they remain untouched until he's sure he won't die without reading the final chapter. That would truly be a nuisance. The cafe had the smell of fresh paint quickly being overshadowed by freshly baked pastries and brewed coffee.
Kento apologizes for startling you. An apology you wave off, setting your book down after slipping the bookmark between the yellowing pages. The spine of it was cracked and the front of it slightly warped despite the plastic cover it was wrapped in. "A good read?"
“It was my mother’s favourite book,” you trace the title on the cover, sheepishly grinning. “She left some of her books in my possession after her passing. It got banged up after a mission with a curse in America, some alligator curse.” “What is it about?” His voice was so deep. Had it always been that deep? Admittedly, you’d only had the pleasure to see Kento again during Suguru’s proclamation of war. At that moment, you weren’t ogling him or relishing in the baritones of his voice. He’d grown up to be a handsome man. Those high cheekbones and strong eyes finally settled on his face. Despite the coat he wore, you could tell his body was chiseled and firm. Muscles stacked on muscles. He’d always been studios — his technique did require a more hand-to-hand approach. It didn’t surprise you. Most active sorcerers tend to train their bodies in order to survive strenuous missions.
As students, you recalled having sparred with him a few times. It didn't surprise you he became a Grade 1 sorcerer. With his flexible ability and his sharp wit, Kento was a force to be reckoned with then, you cannot imagine what he's capable of now. “It’s a bit dark,” you turned the cover to him, “it’s about a woman whose sister and old friend from school died. They were murdered. We follow her through her memories of them and her emotions. It’s quite interesting if you have the stomach for it,” he takes the book as you slip it into his hands.
Your fingers brushed and your ears warmed up.
‘ Ah, stop it. Stop it! You are (Y/N), a powerful sorcerer. Stop acting like a schoolgirl! ‘ “It was inspired by a murder in 1997.” Kento reads the synopsis on the back, his eyes drinking in every syllable. You wonder if his gaze is always so intense. Do they soften when he leans in to kiss? Thankfully, the book distracts him from your aggressive sipping of your drink. "Is the protagonist compelling?" After all, what's more horrid than a boring storyteller. Kento has consumed his fair share of bland-tasting media. It was just how life is, he supposes. Still. It didn't mean he was any less disappointed.
He flips through the first few pages. His touch was featherlight as he traced the edge of the pages. "She's angry," you reply after a moment of contemplation. "She is...unapologetically resentful, overly judgemental. But, for some reason. It's almost relieving to read," he watches you scratch the back of your neck as if admitting it out loud made you a bad person. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for it in bookstores. This looks intriguing.” Kento hands the novel back to you. You’re only a little disappointed that your fingers don’t brush again. He reaches into his coat as you put the book back in your bag. The file he pulls out makes you sober up from the butterflies in your stomach.
Right, this wasn’t a date — despite Satoru's jests — this was a mission. It must be a pretty daunting one if two Grade 1 sorcerers were needed. “Gojo — “ Your huff makes Kento pause. “Honestly, Ken, just call me (Y/N).” Your eyes widen. Stumbling over your words, you try to apologize for your bluntness, your hair practically lifting and puffing like a panicked cat. It has been so long since you’ve been classmates. A whole decade had breezed past. Calling him by an old nickname after so long was so rude!
To your surprise, Kento smiles. It’s unlike Satoru's, free and sharp, the corners curled like a sly fox as he set his sights on adventure. Kento’s smile was reliable, assuring you without words. Like a prince, though one that was gentler in his ways of living compared to the gallivanting knight that is Satoru.
“Only if I can call you, (nickname).”
Yū’s face floats to the surface. You had given Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Kento their nicknames.
Satoru, ‘Toru. Suguru, Su-Su. Shoko, Ko-Ko. Kento, Ken.
Yū, well, you had trouble giving him one considering how short his name already was. So he gave you a nickname instead. It stuck more than the others, every time you saw him he’d immediately call you that and you’d struggle to find a nickname that’d stick for him.
After his death, nobody called you that anymore.
If spirits were kept alive through memory, you’re certain Yū’s was thriving thanks to Kento. His classmate, his best friend. What an honoured spirit he must be. Kento was a quiet man, your mother often said those stoic ones were filled with such blinding love it left them tight-lipped so as to not overwhelm others. You wonder if your feelings have tainted Suguru in any way. The very thought makes your knuckles whiten. How awful. You hope he does not resent you.
You remember visiting Kento after Yū’s funeral, leaving food for him at his front door for weeks until you found out he had moved out.
That was a dark summer.
“Of course you can, Ken.” He stands as you do, falling into step next to you as you make your way towards your destination.
This was an interesting mission. It was located in an alleyway that once harboured a noodle shop. Something chased away the people. The building on the right was an abandoned temple, and the building on the left was a nightclub that was torn down after a murder happened.
An unlikely set of locations sprinkled with fear and isolation. The perfect breeding ground for curses. The mix of religious trauma and debauchery formed a mass that seemed forcefully threaded together by a thick rope in the center that looked oddly like noodles.
What peeved you about it was that it took less than two hours for Kento and you to investigate and exorcise it.
He swung his weapon in the air, the dissipating gore of the curse splattering on the walls in a spray. You’re waving away some dust and debris, coughing as you crush a minor curse’s head under your boot. This mission was dangerous, a perfect mission for a Grade 1 sorcerer.
A Grade 1 sorcerer.
It hardly required a duo.
‘ Satoru, ‘ you’re choking him in your mind. This must be his doing. He'd joke about setting you up with Kento but you thought it was that, a joke.
A heavy hand places itself on your shoulder, turning to face him you’re caught by how close your faces are. “Are you alright?” your body twists and you can't remember when he got so tall.
“I’ll be sore, but it’s nothing new.”
You were his favourite out of his upperclassmen. Kento never said that out loud, he wasn’t sure why; you weren’t the quietest or most polite. You were any other teenage boy. Except that was a lie.
(L/N) (Y/N). You were a product of your clan’s race to stand out. The destiny many searches for was laid out ahead of you the second you were conceived.
But you were kind. Not that the rest of the upperclassmen weren’t. You were different, a shining light that Kento finds himself gravitating towards like a moth to a flame. You were the night sky, twinkling and watching those around him. Kento was a mere mortal. All he could do was admire from the ground as he helplessly reached up to embrace deities.
He slides his hand down to your arm, and the reaction is immediate. Pain shoots up your arm, blood hidden by the dark uniform. Kento undoes his tie and wraps it above the bleeding cut. It’s crazy what adrenaline can do to you.
“Kento, you didn’t have to,” you wince as he tightens it. He offers no apologies though his jaw still clenches.
You were strong, your ranking was proof of that. But you were a (L/N). Kento heard of the rumours they tell about your clan's weak bodies but overeager abilities. It was a nice way to say that your clan was in over your head. As history notes, your clan was more devious than forthcoming. Hailing from ninjas or assassins or whatever it is that seemed more malicious.
“I’ll bring you to the school,” his tone was resolute. “It’s just a cut,” he frowns as he takes another look at it. It was deep, not bone-deep, but deep.
He’s terrified that there’s truth in them. The rumours. As you stand here with your heated cheeks and too-warm touch, he’s worried that your brain is overheating. Or maybe your blood is boiling and killing you. You could drop dead right in front of him right now, despite the amount of times you get up each and every time.
He’s terrified, (Y/N). He cannot lose another person he cares about. Kento absolutely refuses to do that all over again.
“Kento,” that stubborn purse of your lips never did go away. He can see the fight you have in you, that fire that fuels you.
As you smile, Yū’s face eclipses yours. For a split second. Just a second. It makes Kento loosen his grip. “I’m fine, Ken. Swear it,” he reluctantly lets you go.
“I apo — “
Your fingers thread through his. They’re intertwined and your grip is firm.
‘ I’m here, ‘ each squeeze relays, ‘ I’m safe, Kento. ‘
The coolness of your ring on his skin earns you a firm press.
He’s content watching you from afar, Kento had long decided that would be his fate. There was no honour in it. He sure as hell didn’t expect a heavenly reward for it. Perhaps he’s a fool for living the way he does. Kento knows he's lying to himself. Deep down he wants nothing more than to kiss you, hold you, make you his, and let him be yours.
But Kento’s fear of losing you outweighs his love for you. Staying by Gojo Satoru's side ensures your safety, wealth, status and prosperity.
Kento will be content with that. Tripping through these messy tangles of heartstrings would just be how his life went. Even if Gojo Satoru did not deserve you, he provided you with more.
He would come home without fail. He was the strongest.
“After we patch up, let me buy you dinner tonight, (nickname). We can catch up.” The offer brightens your expression. You’d always been so divine when you smile, (Y/N).
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“(Y/N)?” Satoru always smells so sweet before bed. It’s the lotion he puts on his skin, specifically everywhere else Fushiguro Toji had stabbed him.
It was expensive and meant to heal and moisturize damaged skin. They’re barely there anymore. The only proof of that day was nothing more than stark lines, and barely blushed skin that hides beneath his bangs. It was just routine now, a habit he couldn’t break. Or perhaps, a reminder for him; to know what it felt like to bleed out, to die, to let others die. The day he ascended to the heavens and became the honoured one. The day everything shifted.
“Oi, (Y/N).” You’re burying your face into his neck and Satoru stiffens. He’s ticklish there, he’s told you that before.
“Are ya’ drunk? Did Nanami get you drunk?” His voice lifts in amusement at the end. He'd heard that Nanami was quite a heavy drinker from what Shoko had told him. He hadn’t expected you to come here after a date. He was nearly asleep when you stumbled into the bedroom. Did you forget your new address? Satoru feels your hands tighten around his waist. A blanket of sadness shrouds you.
“Oi. Did something happen?”
You shake your head. Never in a million years would you fathom hating grain or bread. It wasn't her fault for holding Kento's heart but what sort of cruel joke was this? The gods were mocking you. Satoru swallows thickly as your lips brush the junction of his shoulder and neck.
“Did Nanami do something?” His anger was immediate, you could taste it from how close you were. Had he always been so responsive to your emotions? All it took to make him lose his coolheadedness was a suspicion that someone had hurt you.
“Why are you here, (Y/N)?”
“Ken, he dropped me off here.” Your legs stumble as you sway so Satoru holds your hips. He can smell the grilled meat from your hair, the alcohol from your breath, and the antiseptic wound dressing under your clothes.
“You didn’t bring him home?” Satoru teases.
“He brought me home.” Satoru can feel your lashes tickle his neck. Your breath is fanning that barely-there-scar and it makes gooseflesh ripple across his skin. Right, in the public’s eye, this was still your home. Kento was a gentleman, of course, he’d send (Y/N) back to his husband.
“This is my home, S'Toru,” he agrees with you with a nod, “Of course, beloved. We should get you ready for bed, yeah?”
His breath gets caught in his throat as he takes you in. The moonlight makes your skin look absolutely ethereal. Those tales of forest spirits with decadent forms and whispering eyes that lure men to their deaths pale in comparison to you. The drunken flush that looks silly on others makes you look like you’re a teenager all over again. Your gaze was unfocused, jumping or lingering from one thing to the next.
But your eyes meet him and they're so dark. He’s taken aback. It happens when someone’s in a dim room like you are currently. Your pupils dilate to let more light in. Satoru knows that’s not the case. You’re 17 again and the windows to your soul betray you by letting Satoru in. It’s silly what humans do when they’re in love. How our eyes insist on seeing more of them. Take in every microscopic detail despite not having the ability to do so. Fluttering those eyelashes as if curling a coy finger.
' Come, ' your eyes are saying. ' Let me show you where I ache the most, this void in my chest. Come. Inhabit me. Bare your soul to me. '
The act of kissing is perhaps the silliest. Moulding your lips with another person, feeling them against you as your soul breathes into their body. It’s Satoru’s favourite sensation. The intimate act of it all, of breathing life into someone you love. It was almost cannibalistic in a way. As you stand in front of him, hiccuping from all the drinks you took and only being supported by his hands Satoru can’t stop the way his gaze lingers on your lips. Satoru wants to kiss his husband. He wants to feel your soul burn him from the inside and he wants you to harbour his own in yours.
“Why can’t I just sleep now?” You mumble. Satoru’s palm cools your flushed cheeks, his thumb ghosting the edge of your lips.
“You smell like grilled meat and beer,” he traces your jawline and cups the back of your head to pull you into his embrace. Too drunk to care about how fast your heart is beating, you simply let it happen. Satoru’s big hands travel down and he shushes you when you squirm.
Down to the sides of the waist, then to your hips, further down and down until he catches the back of your knees. He lifts you so you wrap your arms around him, going all but limp.
“Grilled meat and beer smell great! I’m so sleepy, please,” he chuckles as you kick your feet. “I prefer if the bedsheets smell the way they do now. Man, how much did you have to drink?”
The hiccup you make when he sets you on the counter makes him shake his head. Satoru tells you to lean back so he can undress you. It’s amusing to see the emotions on his face as he does.
The metallic scent still lingers judging from how Satoru’s nose is twitching. Suppose the new jacket you got did little to mask it. He unbuttons your undershirt and his eyes widen. At that, you turn to breathe in the mirror, entranced by the way your breath leaves traces of itself on the smooth surface.
Satoru ignores the way your chest stutters as he traces the outlines of the fucked up star-shaped scar on your chest. It was a sick imitation of your skin colour. So close to your heart, too close. Your hand rests on top of his as you trace his knuckles.
“There aren’t a lot of doctors like Shoko overseas,” Satoru slips his hand away from you. It rests on the big scar on your side now. He can feel the marred skin beginning from your back all the way to the front, like a sickle. He can imagine it, see the way a claw or a tooth had nearly split you in half if you hadn't gotten out of the way.
It must've ached. He would know. Muscles being torn apart viciously, bone thudding so harshly on the ground that sometimes he's convinced it's broken. You must've been in pain — muscles and nerves screaming at every movement despite whatever sorcery was used to heal it.
Scars are a part of the sorcerer society. It’s a rite of passage just as much as dying is. He’s not surprised you have them. He’s seen your bare torso before. When it’s an unbearable hot summer or on a beach, you’ve chosen to shed a few layers. Sometimes, you’d even sleep topless if it was too humid.
Each time, Satoru would find himself looking at your scars. Counting them, wondering where some came from and what mission caused it. Or was it an accident? A childhood scar that never went away. Was it your training?
Was it your father?
He never asked. Satoru didn’t want to say anything for fear that you’d no longer be comfortable around him. The ones he remembered, he'd let his gaze linger on but the others? No. It felt shameful to ask. So he never knew. Simply wondered.
In those four months, why had your scars increased? The severity of it looked more and more painful.
“You’re usually not so careless,” fear grips him and his expression is so morbid you laugh. Satoru finds no amusement in it and his firm gaze makes your chuckle fade away.
“Maybe my family’s curse is catching up to me.”
“That isn’t a laughing matter.” Satoru knows you’re not completely immune to the flames you cast. You’ve certainly grown a tolerance for it (and other flames), once or twice he recalls you casually patting away at the inky flames that catch on your clothes. But it’s a great technique.
Too great some would say.
Divine Flame. A technique that enabled the user to control cursed wildfires. To manipulate it to burn through nearly everything it came into contact with. A searing black that makes you sweat even from a distance. That is so bright when cast, it blinds those who dare gaze upon it.
The whispers of your clan making a deal with a cursed spirit followed you everywhere you went. People claim that your ancestors made a Binding Vow to become great sorcerers. To rival the other houses and to fill the void of power that Sukuna Ryomen left your society in after he massacred great clans.
But your ancestor got greedy and the vow was broken, which left canyons of karma engraved in the bones of their children. It was why your clan could never flourish. It was why the children die out, why the women grow barren and the men weak.
It was ridiculous but Satoru himself wonders if there’s truth in it.
Why would the Gods give you a body you couldn’t sustain? Were you truly cursed? This mighty curse technique engraved into your skeleton burns you from the inside out; is it hurting you?
If it was, Satoru would demand the Gods to come down and face him. Why should you pay for the mistakes of your ancestors?
Why would they dare take more from you?
From Satoru?
Had they not have their fill?
Just rumours, he tells himself. If they — the Gods — dared taking you from him he'd raze heaven and hell.
“...You would tell me if it was, right?”
Has Satoru’s eyes ever looked as dark as they did now? There’s a ring of blue surrounding that endless void. As he peers up at you, all you can focus on is that sliver of heaven. That cerulean that reminds you of the sky and the sea, that you swear shines in mischief or glows like a good omen.
What is this darkness you're peering into? An abyss that whispers for you;
' Come. Let me show you, come, teeter over the edge and fall with me.'
“Would you stop it, Satoru?” your hands on his cheek make his skin burn. “This so-called ' great family curse, ' could you stop it?”
“I’d do anything to protect you, beloved.” He'd make the Gods ever regret making him fall in love with you.
You grin as your thumb swipes over his cheekbones and all thoughts of killing unreachable Gods dissipate. Satoru lets you come down from the counter, ready to catch you if you fall as you attempt to take your pants off.
Satoru is squirming like a worm under the sun. He’s sat on the toilet lid, refusing to let you tend to him. “Gojo,” your sigh makes him chew on his inner cheeks. Finally, you manage to get his shirt off and without that second skin, he feels far too cold.
You’re in nothing but a towel. Your funeral garbs are being tended to by servants. They were probably steaming out the wrinkles while you attempted to wring Satoru back into shape.
“I can do it by myself.”
He hasn’t eaten. What little he does eat is barely sustaining him. Satoru could barely stand after his adrenaline wore off, you truly hope he will not be stubborn. You reach for his boxers and he exclaims, once again;
“I can do it by myself!”
The blood that rushes to his head humbles him. Satoru stands and Satoru falls. You catch him, gasping out his name as your arm wraps themselves around him.
His face is on your chest, resting on your clavicles while your chin is on his shoulder.
Look away, he wants to tell you. Look away from me.
Suguru’s love letters are still dark on his pale skin. Like flowers blooming under sunlight, they decorate him from behind his ears to the nape of his neck. Satoru can recall pushing Suguru away as he did, his skin remembering unfeeling metal but Suguru kisses him and Satoru forgets it all.
He thought Suguru could forget it too. He tries not to cry but he does anyway. Satoru sobs into your chest and a part of you feels anger. It was your mother’s funeral.
Why the fuck is he crying?
But your grief is hanging outside the bathroom, neat and crisp and proper. It will weigh like boulders when you slip it on and you’ll feel your stomach twist into knots as you hold back the urge to vomit. In this bathroom, Satoru’s guilt is his and you’ll be there to wash it away.
He hates himself for it. He hates how you rub his back and shush him, gathering him in your arms as you stand so you can brush away all these feelings.
He couldn’t imagine going to his mother's funeral.
He also couldn't imagine Suguru not being by his side but that was now reality.
Your mother was a kind woman. Not naively trusting, barely had any faith in others his mother once told him. But she was warm despite it. Cunning underneath the pleasantries she shared.
His mother enjoyed her company. He can’t recall if she ever enjoyed anyone’s company other than his father and his own.
‘ She’s a wonderful woman. Shame she’s married to such a horrible man, ‘ she once told him.
“Let me wash your hair, Gojo.” The water hides his tears but you wipe them away regardless. You offer him a smile and Gojo can feel that tree of guilt sprout.
He catches you as you trip on your discarded pants and perhaps you should feel bashful or shy as your naked body is pressed against his clothed one. But you’re too drunk and too sleepy to care.
Your face rests on his chest and his chin is over your shoulder.
“Why do you call me that?”
Satoru turns the shower on, one arm loosely wrapped around your waist as he tests the temperature.
“Beloved?” You nod against him and the hair that tickles his throat doesn’t make his insides shudder in memory of that day.
“Do you want me to stop calling you that?”
He pushed you into the shower and the warm water has you groaning. He’s gentle as he manoeuvres your bandaged arm up, telling you to brace it on the wall to not get it damp.
His eyes are still so dark.
“Your shirt is getting wet,” you point your finger at it. Neither of you addresses your blatant brush-off. He tells you to turn around and you do. From the corner of your eyes, you see his clothes getting tossed onto the floor and the sound of his hand's lathering soap has you fluttering your eyes closed.
He envies the careless way the water hugs you. How it slithers from your shoulders down to the curves of your legs. Rivulets of ambrosia ease your sore muscles in ways that he wished he could.
“People...people usually use baby or babe,” Satoru’s hands lather soap on your back and you lean forward to press your forehead on the wall.
“Hey,” it twists beneath your arm, brushing over your chest and tilts your head up. You can feel his chest hovering over your back and you wonder if there are raised lines where Fushiguro Toji stabbed him.
“Do you want me to call you baby or babe?”
You shrug, wanting to hang your head again but somehow keeping it exactly the way Satoru had positioned it even as his hand moves to your back again. “It’s because you’re dear to me. Calling you my dear sounds way too archaic though.” He smiles as you scoff, “As opposed to my beloved?”
You’re sobering up from the water. He can feel your muscles tensing under his touch.
“What did you call Suguru?”
You prayed that you didn’t ruin this moment. The sick curiosity of it all has rotted in you for too long. You need to know how great his love was, from his mouth alone.
If you’ve spent a decade of your life resenting yourself for being in love with a man who was never yours, you’d like to know if he was truly unreachable.
“I called him my one and only.”
He sees no point in hiding it from you. Satoru didn’t want to hurt you, he hoped if anything this would make you run into Kento’s arms. A restart, a good man who had more than enough money to make sure you wouldn't have to give up too many comforts (Satoru's money and Kento's were no laughing matter but his was as infinite as his abilities due to generational wealth). From what he gathered on Nanami, from previous partners to his parents and health, he was clean. You deserve that. His beloved, you deserve to be with a man who would never hurt you.
“Your one and only.” Your face is hidden from him. He wants nothing more than to turn you around so he can see what you’re thinking.
“But I am dear to you, Satoru?”
“You are. You’re,” he struggles to find the words. As he does, he struggles to say it.
Cutting him off, you tell him; “You are my first love, Satoru."
He inhales sharply. Crimson seeps from the gauze of your bandages. Staining the white with red. The pinpricks of pain barely register.
“Suguru was yours. I don’t hate you for it. I don’t blame you. You alone hold the sorcerer society’s expectations on your shoulders. Its happiness and misery are all on you. The strongest. I am vindictive. I am selfish.”
“Beloved, you’re not.”
You turn to face him. Here you are, standing in front of each other. Bare and vulnerable. You might as well say what you need to.
“I am, Satoru. I wanted you to hurt, I wanted you to be in pain, for 10 years all I ever wished for was for you to feel what I felt. My love for you was tainted by my own feelings by my own hate. He was your one and only. How could I hate you for that? How could I hate him for that?”
Satoru looks to the side, clenching his jaw as his hands ball up into fists. He shouldn't say anything more but there's this voice pleading for him to say it. Say that he forgives you despite the fact that you didn't need to apologize in the first place. Isn't this what couples do? They kiss and make up. After a decade of this, of wearing rings and honouring vows, you would think it was something the both of you got used to doing.
That's not what you are, in a few months, the only remains of this marriage will be harboured in memories alone. So why does this voice grip him so tightly? This hope that the both of you can actually be together...he needs to extinguish it.
“I’m glad we had each other throughout these years, I'm glad you stayed even if it was out of pity. Even if we were unhappy, even if I could not...please you. We’re friends, and I could never hate Suguru for being your great love.”
“Stop, please.” Your blood is trailing down your arm. Turning the water into a pale red as it swirls down the drain. “I married you so I could marry Suguru.” He releases a shuddering breath. Satoru’s words sobered you up like a slap to the face.
“I was 16. There were marriage proposals from everywhere, even from overseas. I didn’t want to marry them. Not because they were strangers but because my duties would pull me away from his side. But I was forced to. By higher-ups, by clan members, by my mother, the world was looking at me. You said it yourself. The misery and happiness of the world we live in depended on me. But I wanted Suguru more than anything."
He’s looking at you with tears in his eyes. It's your heart that's being shattered.
So why the fuck was he crying?
“I told him if I married you, we would divorce and you would understand the reason. Because you were our friend. Suguru said it was cruel. He knew you loved me.”
These words were like striking a match and holding it to the leaves of that beautiful willow tree you made him.
“Stop, Satoru.”
“I knew too.”
“Please, stop!”
“I — I didn’t...I would take it back if I could. But I can’t.” That voice within him withers to nothing. He pretends he doesn't feel his chest ache as he stares at your betrayal. Your arm pulses in pain but you can barely find it in you to care.
“My beloved — "
“You knew I loved you? All that time, you knew I loved you?”
Was this better? For all these years, you thought he chose you because he held some sort of fondness for you. Perhaps the comfort of familiarity wasn't too far off. But the fact that he chose you due to your proximity? The reason he was so insistent on binding your hands together in matrimony was due to distance?
In another life, Suguru is where you stand now. Except there’d be no distance. They’d be pressed together, lips locked with a passion even your flames couldn’t rival. Would you be happy in that life? Knowing that your marriage was all a facade until the honor was fulfilled and Satoru would whisk his true husband to the altar.
“You used me.” He tries to grab you but you flinch away, stumbling over your own feet as your back meets the wall.
“I’m so sorry.” "You keep saying that, Satoru!"
You needed to get away from him. There was no way this could work. Not as friends, not as husbands, not as anything more. It was foolish to think otherwise. You attempt to squeeze past him and out from the glass doors but he holds you by your shoulders.
Satoru holds you to his chest as you try to slip out of his grasp. You'd think it'd be easy since you were practically covered in soap suds. If your tears were gold, you'd be the richest man alive. He's glad you go limp, gathering you so close you can feel the raised skin of the scar he had.
Blood is seeping through the fine hairs on his arm, staining it as you hang your head in defeat. He turns you around and the foggy glass doors of the shower make your back arch.
He should stop. This absolutely won't end well. He's broken your heart, cremated it into dust. Was this his punishment from a past life? Had he scorned a lover? Was it you? Were the both of you destined to love each other this way?
Why must he love this way? You can't tell what's running through your veins right now. Adrenaline? Anger? Beer? You don't know what it is, but it makes you stay as he stares at you.
"Hate me if you need to. I can take it, (Y/N). I promise you I can."
That's the problem. You can't. The definition of hate had been skewered for you centuries ago. Maybe this is how you love Satoru; with bitter longing and resentment. They had four letters, practically indistinguishable from each other in your mind because that's what Satoru has done to you.
From the second you saw for the first time, he'd burned his very soul on your heart. Branded you like cattle with his smile, left cuts with every exhale and inhale as he laughed; this is what loving Satoru feels like.
How did Suguru manage? Was he a stronger man than you? You wish you could ask him. Would his cold corpse cushion your back with his chest, praising you for taking Satoru's sadistic love so well?
The tip of his nose brushes against your ear as he embraces you. This is what Satoru feels like slotted against you.
So many questions are running through your mind. None were answered. They kept buzzing and it's making your eyes water. The steam, the familiar scent of your favourite soap, and Satoru's fading sweetness as the lotion is washed off.
"I hate you," Satoru's breath does not hitch. He turns his head and your lips quiver as he brushes along your jaw. He can feel you trembling as his face hovers across yours. You should put distance between him. Scream and tell him to get away.
Still, there is this terrible desire to be loved by him.
Just.
Just once.
' Come. '
His eyes are still so dark.
' Inhabit me. '
So are yours.
' Let me show you. '
They flicker to your lips, pure white lashes do little to hide heaven away.
' Bare your soul to me. '
His cheek twitches when you place a hand on it. No barrier between your palm and his face. Being naked isn't the reason why you feel so exposed. It's the way he's looking at you. As if your very skin was peeled away, muscles torn apart, bones bashed to smithereens; as if he used Hallowed Purple and eviscerated you into nothing but the very essence of your soul. He drinks it in with that unlimited darkness.
' I have. Now fall with me. '
He kisses you.
It's not the other times when he tries to initiate intimacy. No. It isn't methodical, hesitant, awkward. On the other hand, it isn't passionate either. It's wet. It's pathetic. Both pairs of lips bumbling fools that try to make jagged pieces to fit. Tears sting in your eyes, and Satoru can't understand why he does this to you.
' Look at what I do to you, ' he thinks, ' all I do is hurt you. '
You gasp when his hand pulls you in closer.
Just once.
He needs to hold you like this just once.
To show you how he loves the only way he knows how — to devour you with his sin so you know how much he meant. He knows he shouldn't. This would only muddy the dark waters you tread through. But fuck it.
Fuck it.
Fuck the world. Fuck the higher-ups. Fuck the clans, fuck expectations, fuck Suguru, fuck Shoko, fuck Kento —
"Satoru," you're breathing into his mouth, lips still pushed against the other as you try to catch your breath. Praying at the altar of the body that holds your soul; Satoru is weakest before you.
His godhood is forgotten.
The strongest kneels.
The taste of him is making your head fuzzy. The pain feels insignificant and for a moment the heartbreak is forgotten.
"(Y/N)," there, where you ache for him, he's there.
His tongue feels like velvet. With one leg tossed over his shoulder, you're at his mercy. Those plush lips paint your skin, ushering your blood just under the skin's surface. The tugs on his hair make him groan as he leaves apologetic licks on your inner thighs.
"Satoru," your whisper could make a mountain bow. A brush of his teeth has you gasping. It's soon replaced with a moan as he takes your cock into his hands.
It's obscene. Sex was never meant to be anything but — however, the sight makes you feel dizzy.
This ethereal man is on his knees, cerulean eyes staring up at you as he kisses the tip of your cock. A hand squeezes the underside of the thigh on his shoulder, slithering up to your hip and reaching for your chest and neck. The whisper of his touch on your chin has you whimpering.
"Don't look away," he says, "keep your eyes on me, my beloved."
Your hands attempt to grab the purchase of the glass doors, but all you manage is a handful of steam. They cover the marks you leave as your palms press on the glass. Satoru's mouth and tongue feel like velvet — so warm and wet. When you nearly slip his nose is pressed to your pubic hair so he simply lifts your other leg. The only thing you can do is thrust into his mouth.
He strokes your hips, nails lightly scratching the surface as he encourages you to do as you please. The noises he makes go straight to your dick and you feel like you're losing your mind.
As you curl over, gripping his head, you can only see white. Satoru's throat is gulping all of your cum down, and the sensation of your cockhead being squeezed has your heels digging into his back.
Those 10 years of denying him felt ridiculous now.
There's a distinctly (Y/N)-shaped stain on the bed. There's still soap on your skin. The coldness in the air makes being wet and naked uncomfortable. But Satoru is there.
He's kissing you like he wants to eat you alive and you're weak to his whims. Your cock is in his hands, painfully hard as he strokes it and swallows every pitiful mewl you let out.
Here he is again, ruining you, branding you.
He's not entirely at fault. You let him.
It was not his fault he loved another and it was not your fault you loved him. He was a teenager, so were you. What did he know of consequences, of choice, of pain? He was 16, in love.
Were you truly vindictive? Why were you so devout in your worship?
What were you worshipping?
The tragedy of this marriage? The humour of it all is a great soap drama that the Gods peer down at to coo at.
"(Y/N)," he says your name like it was a prayer. Such reverence in his worship. His lips are trailing down to your neck and the scriptures of adoration he places on your skin make your back arch into him.
"Satoru," he answers his name with a whisper of yours. He takes a nipple in his mouth, teeth catching to feel your chest try to escape it. He doesn't let it. He tongues at the scar you have, pressing kisses there and to the scar on your side, the scar on your hip, the one on your thigh, the one near your belly button...
"(Y/N)," he'd whisper every time he does.
Satoru is in between your legs but you don't want him there. He grunts as you pull on his forearm, a breath away from showing you his dedication to you but he doesn't complain because you're kissing him.
He likes kissing you.
Satoru moves his jaw up and down, you can barely catch up but that isn't without trying. The feeling of his undercut makes your hand move to grab his hair so you can breathe. His forehead is on yours and water drips from his bangs as he pants.
That endless void; it reflects only you.
"(Y/N)".
It's your name that leaves his lips.
"(Y/N)."
He's pleading for you.
"My beloved."
You're dear to him.
Your grip loosens and he relishes the way your soul burns as it goes down his throat.
When he's inside of you, you were certain you were going to die. Life has taught you plenty of lessons and one of them was that nothing good came without a price.
His cock split you open as gently as he could make it. It was tight. You were grateful for his fingers that stretched you despite how uncomfortable it had been at first. Tears still fall as you try your best to breathe, Satoru kisses them away. He's braced on his arms with you underneath him.
It takes all his strength not to pound into you. He's barely halfway in and all he wants is to stay inside you forever. You're squeezing and he inhales sharply, a breathless chuckle escaping him.
"Easy, you're gonna cut my dick off, baby," you sniffle in response. Satoru reaches to pump your cock and shushes you as you moan out his name.
"I'm right here, beloved."
"Satoru," he meets you halfway when you lean up. His heart clenches as he tastes your tears, saying nothing as you laugh in between the lip-locking. His hips move and you clutch onto him tighter.
"Oh fuck, 'Toru." He's there. Nestled in the space he had molded inside of you. Satoru is sheathed fully. You're convinced you're about to die as your chest grows heavier. He cradles your face in his hand, wiping that steady flow of tears as he thrusts in and out. You simply let him, gasping for air and mercy as your body hangs onto him.
"(Y/N), fuck, (Y/N)," his nose curls as his lust-lidded eyes drink you in.
"'To - Toru, Satoru." He can feel your nails digging into his back. It stings but fuck does it feel good.
"More. Nuh - Need more, 'Toru. Need — "He nods. You don't have to say it. You need him.
"Me too, (Y/N). You feel s'good, s'fuckin' good."
When his hips rattle yours, it's enough to have you sobbing.
"Love you so fucking much," he says. You don't have to say it back. Because your eyes betray you. They only reflect him and you're sure this is how you die.
"Satoru."
With his name on your lips.
"Please."
Begging for his mercy.
"Satoru."
You ____ him.
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The clouds are strangely dark today. Earlier this morning, the reporter had babbled on and on about the clear blue skies and bright sunny day. Weather predictions weren't an exact science, Satoru knew that, but the sky was not cheery much less sunny.
It was baleful.
The Gojo clan's grounds were meticulously opulent. Preserved history in every shimmering roof tile and old ghosts whispering tales from the creaking wooden frames. The servants are dressed to the nines as well. They lower their gaze with such grace, Satoru wonders if they're robots.
"Satoru, you've come home."
His mother does not meet him at the entrance, nor anywhere else other than her office. It's a traditional room with an open floor plan, despite her aging body she prefers sitting cross-legged as she works or writes or draws or whatever it is she likes to do.
If the sharpness of ice could be personified, it was his mother. It was spine-shivering every time someone told him that he resembled her. Her hair was colder than his own, having an almost silver tone to it compared to his lilac. Her eyes were almond-shaped with delicate double eyelids that lifted up at the end, which resembled a cunning fox. Satoru knows his nose was from hers, his chin as well although his lips were passed from his fathers instead.
"Yes, I have."
Before her, on the short-legged table (which she had commissioned from a talented craftsman), were the signed divorce papers.
It'd only been a day. There was no surprise, if anyone was going to find out it would not be the head of the (L/N) clan.
It'd be his mother.
"Was he not good to you, Satoru?" The shadows swallow his visage as a cloud covers the sun. "It was a mutual decision," he says, "we both thought it'd be best."
"Because of Itadori Yuji's death?" his brows pinched together. A sigh escapes her. "If you feel so much for children, I wonder why you never had some of your own. Men like yourself can have bloodlines now through extraordinary science." "It wasn't because of young Itadori."
"Well, it'd better have been for a good reason then. This divorce will not reflect badly on you. I know why you settled for (L/N) (Y/N) despite his clan's reputation. However cruel it was, you told me yourself you'd take responsibility. I recall you using your power as head of the clan to strong-arm the decision despite much more powerful families offering their sons for you. This ' mutual ' decision will only have a consequence on (Y/N)."
She sniffles prudently.
"I quite like him as my in-law. His late mother was an honorable lady. I do not wish for her to haunt you for hurting her son."
"I cannot keep him against his will. He wishes to be free."
She scoffs at him. He does not need to lift his eyes to know how sharp her scrutiny is. The clan may have spoiled him with care and affection, but his mother had not. A hand was never raised and she never yelled, however, she ensured that her son was able to lead studiously.
"Free? Of you?" she places her temple against the knuckles of her fist. "Do you beat him? Are your words harsh and cruel? Do you rule your house with an iron fist like his impudent father?" Satoru shakes his head, frowning at the very suggestion.
"Mother, of course, I wouldn't — "
"Do you take him despite his protests? Force him to labor heedlessly to your whims? Is there a lustier boy waiting for you in a seedy hotel?"
"Gods, no! What do you take me for!?"
Her brows cover her double eyelids as she glares at him. "Then what is it that he wishes to be free from? If you are not mistreating him, if you treat him kindly, what is the freedom he seeks?"
"My informants tell me he had signed it before you did. They tell me that he had moved to a penthouse 4 months ago, mere days after Geto Suguru's death."
The light filters through that grey cloud. It highlights the upturned tip of her nose, her pink-dusted cheeks, and her lilac eyes. She was such a refined beauty, it was no wonder her son was too. But this made her look especially cruel as she stared him down.
"I took responsibility, I told him what my initial intentions of marrying him were," he says. "You idiot," she seethed. "He was a respectable man. A good man. A strong sorcerer with a cunningness his late mother had passed down to him and you chose a dead man?"
"You humiliate him, Satoru. The poor boy will be eaten alive by the gossip. Will you take responsibility for that too?"
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"How are you doing, my love?"
Megumi raises from below the covers. The distinct sound of the windows rattling open makes him rub the sleep from his. He takes a breath, then says; "I'll be training with the second-year students today with Kugisaki." He hears you exhale and he can see the gentle grin you have on your face even with your back turned to him.
“Is she going easier on you?”
“No point in training if they’re going easier on you,” he mumbles. It makes you laugh while you settle next to him on the edge of the bed.
“Fair. You still haven’t answered my question, Megumi.”
The silence drones for a minute. Despite this, you can tell what races through his mind. Memories bursting with every blink and laughter echoing in his ears. All the things he should not have to know, all those precious moments ripped away from him.
“Does it ever get easier?” His cobalt gaze is especially heavy as they dance around the room.
“Losing someone?”
You stared at the wisps of steam that escaped the spout of the kettle on the kitchenette. Losing a comrade was a rite of passage for sorcerers. Through death, through betrayal, through this or that. For you, you supposed, it was a gentle albeit tedious loss.
The morning after that night had left you nauseous. Satoru was awake just as you woke, and both of you silently, rigidly, stayed in the embrace. His toned arms wrapped around your torso, nose pressed to the top of your head whilst your lips were mere inches away from his neck. His grip tightens as you squirm but ultimately he lets you go.
You couldn't bear it. That night of bittersweetness, of passion you've been craving for, of weepy love confessions and apologies. Not anymore. So you signed the papers despite the 8 months left and sent them to him.
It's Megumi who witnessed the death — according to the reports he'd been fighting with Sukuna Ryomen all by himself. That trait you know he got from Satoru, not the cockiness, but the self-sacrificing resolve. You hate Satoru for tainting Megumi with it, even if most would call it valor.
There is no honour in a child dying.
“Yeah,” Megumi inhales through his nose. It stings. Every inhale is a reminder of Yuji’s last.
“No, it doesn’t. It stays, shrinking or stretching sometimes but it remains.” He had hoped you’d say something else. Tell him that one day he’ll forget about it all. That this sinking feeling will fade away.
But you know he wouldn’t want that. He’d want to remember. No matter how painful. To keep Yuji’s spirit alive, he’d remember.
“It’ll get easier to carry it though, that much I can promise you.” Your arm slips over his shoulders and cradles his head. He is pliant as you pull him in, closing his eyes as your lips press on his temple.
“I loved him, dad."
Megumi stares stoically, eyes rimmed with red. Those words strain to escape his chewed lips. It quivers and as much as he tries to stiffen it, a cry escapes him.
Megumi knew his time with Yuji was limited, he told himself he was content with what they had. He was a lamb sent for slaughter and the butchers were the higher-ups whose orders he fulfilled. Megumi felt like a butcher. He feels Yuuji's blood drying on his hands, he can still feel the weight of his body on his back when he carried it.
He remembers how tightly he held him when Satoru tried to pull Yuuji away from him. How unwilling he was to part with the boy who didn't deserve any of this to happen to him. Megumi starts gasping, bowing his head as he presses the heel of his hand to his teary eyes.
"Oh, Megumi." He turns into you and weeps. Body racking with sobs as you comb through his hair, curling over him as he clutches at your torso.
"I'm here, Megumi."
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Tokyo is dark by the time you reach your home.
The beeping of your intercom makes you pause.
Ice-cold water travels down your spine at the overwhelming aura that comes from the front door. Although you hope for it to be Kento, or even Satoru — hell, even his mother would be great — you know who waits for you beyond that door.
To deny him what he wants will just make this more painful. What greets you as you open your door is your father’s hulking frame. Steeling your expression, you widen the door. No entourage waits in the hallway. It was just him. He always dishes out his punishments that way. He says nothing about it. Closing the door felt strangely final; the soft click and thud blanketed the penthouse in silence.
As you turn, a fist connects to your jaw. The force has your skull bouncing off the wall, crumpling to the floor.
There was a monster in your house. Trapped with you as it grabs fistfuls of your hair. It drags you to the living room, lifting and then slamming you down on the glass coffee table. The wood breaks and the glass shatters but at least it lets you go. Taking a desperate lungful of air you lift your arms to protect your head but it lifts a mighty foot placing it right on your chest.
Your ribcage screams its protests. When your hands fly out to desperately push its weight off, it merely places its knee on your chest instead. The pressure has you gasping, and blood blurs the vision in your left eye which doesn't help the disorientation. He grabs at your neck and you swear you feel your ribcage concave as you desperately try to breathe.
"You worthless child!" The beast roars. Finding a purchase of broken wood, you imbue it with cursed energy and strike it above its knee. It yells, shifting its weight enough for you to push it back and away.
Your back presses against the balcony doors and your hands tremble as you bring it to your chest and face.
The monster snarls, baring its teeth at you as it stands.
It's funny how much bigger he looks right now. It's as if you've shrunk back to being a child when you stopped being one a decade ago. It was frightening how much fear your father put in you.
When Tsumiki and Megumi first met you, you were apprehensive about adopting them. You were a teenager, barely fit to take care of yourself, much less keep two children alive. You were certain that kids were never in your cards either.
The night Tsumiki and Megumi found themselves nodding off as you were huddled up together on the couch watching some stupid TV show was when you were struck with a moment of realization.
You could never imagine laying a hand on them. The very thought made you feel sick. You wanted to protect them, cherish them, love them. Loving them felt like the most natural thing in the world.
How could your father not feel the same for you?
"I gave you everything!" He growls, veins bulging across the back of his hands.
"You breathed your first breath because of me! I gave you life!"
"Get out of my house," the words are strangled and garbled. His eyes darken as he takes steps towards you. Not like Satoru's that night. No. His eyes are dark like the walls of that hellish room. They only reflect you but not because he cares for you; because he wants to kill you.
There's a sharp whistling sound that comes from over his shoulder. The glass door behind you shatters as shards of red crystals fly towards you. His innate ability was to control broken shards of glass, changing their shapes and imbuing them with cursed energy. Blood flows from your cheek and torso. The wound from your mission with Kento spills open with fury. Cold wind rushes in as your hips bump into the railings of your balcony. He looks warbled in your vision, painted crimson.
"You're nothing without me! I made our clan rise from the ashes. I saved it from shame as I gave you that tyrant of a husband! I prevailed. I sacrificed everything for it! What do I get in return for giving you this auspicious life?"
You bring your hands up and yell as the shards intently aim for your scars, intent on ripping them open.
"Humiliation! They denied me entry to high society. Me! Denied of my destiny because of my weak-willed son!" The neighbors are rushing to their balconies and out onto the hallways. They yell if you're alright, trying to catch a peek of the scene by holding out their phones and aiming it at you. They yelp as his crystals fly into the air, clearly shocked at the unusual phenomenon.
This beast. He had 10 years to make himself worthy enough to stand between those of "high society."
Is it your fault that high society never — and would never — accept him in the first place?
He reaps what you sow. That's the kind of man he is. His pride comes before all, your mother once said to you.
She knew sacrifice. You knew sacrifice.
He knows nothing, yet he spouts his ideologies so loudly, so defiantly, it is as though it is gospel.
What a foolish man.
"Where is your respect!? Your gratitude!? I gave you life, I'll take it just as easily, boy."
He was close enough to reach out and grab you. When he did, he quickly regretted it. Fire engulfed his fist, the flame dark as ink as it roared. He yells in pain but you don't let him pull away. Instead, you bring your hands to wrap around his wrist and keep it there. His flesh smells rotten as the fire melts the skin away, charred almost. It sizzles on your skin, leaving its mark as more and more fat renders and pulsates. Bubbling like a foul soup.
Pull as he might, you keep him there, glaring with blood in your eyes.
The hand that holds his wrist lets go as he falls to his knees, summoning his weak ability again. They cut and slice furiously, emboldened by his pain, but yours was greater. With him on his knees, your hands thrust through the fire and grab his face.
It hurts. Your skin screeches in pain as the flames eat away. It feels insignificant. Before you, kneeling, was the beast that played the role of your father.
He feels as though your grip would completely crush his jaw.
The hand on yours is beginning to show bone. You feel nothing. His vomit slips down your hand, lumps of tears as well, and he looks so pathetic, so utterly inhuman. The grinding of your teeth makes your temples feel as though it's about to burst.
"Here it is! Do you feel it!? " his nerves burn to nothing, the crisping sound of his eyelashes distracting him from your voice. "I asked you a question, boy!" The flame lashes out, crawling to his elbows, and he strains out a scream.
"Here is my sacrifice!"
The fingers gripping his cheek warm and the fear in his eyes sends shivers up your spine.
There. In your eyes. That cursed candle. Its flames roar. The heat causes the windows to burst into a million pieces, sharp shards flying around. He tries to summon his ability, windows bursting as he forms a large spear. It flies to pierce through your back but your flame is too hot.
Your eyes are dark. He sees himself in them.
Had he always looked so weak?
His glass spear melts and bursts. The sound causes the building to shake and the screams that follow make your grin widen. Flecks of orange embers swirl around the both of you.
"Savour every drop of it, father."
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It's always too sterile. The walls, ceilings, floors. He threatens to slip on the wooden floorboards with every step. Satoru watches the black car drive away, jaw clenched as it grows smaller and smaller into the distance.
The (L/N)'s clan manor lacked warmth. Despite the open courtyards and shoji doors, the meticulously cared for trees and shrubbery. It felt plastic. A show put on for the sake of being presentable.
The servant bows, telling him you are awake and he follows her.
The room is bright, facing the inner courtyard with a windchime swaying calmly from the threshold. You're sitting up on a futon, staring out at the small bamboo spout water feature.
Satoru can't believe his eyes. Every inch of skin below your face was covered in white bandages.
"Master (L/N), presenting Gojo Satoru."
The title brings a smile to your face.
He wasn't dead, your father, he was elsewhere. Getting his wounds treated by the best of the best but most importantly, far away from you. If Satoru thought you looked like a walking gauze, he hasn't laid eyes on your father yet. According to your stepmother, he was wrapped from head to toe, resembling a mummy from Egpyt.
It serves him right. The bastard.
You inclined your head and she bows, that same swirl pattern greets you goodbye. Master (L/N). Head of your clan. The position was temporary seeing as your father was still alive but the very title made him uneasy. Satoru settles near the wall, observing the sight before him.
The night of your 'scuffle' with your father had been the same night he fought that one-eyed curse. He had sensed a chill in his bones but with the opponent (and teaching opportunity) before him, he elected to brush it off.
"Satoru, did you see my stepmother on your way out?" He squeezes his biceps, shifting his knees as he adjusts his crossed legs. It wasn't his fault he was born with elegant legs, it felt uncomfortable to sit this way but to point his feet at you was a disrespect he wouldn't toe.
"Yeah. She seemed like she was in a rush, your brother and sisters have grown."
Of course, she would run. Make a scene of it to show her fear. To say she was displeased at the news of your fight with your father was the understatement of the century. She had wasted no time in calling for a trial, pointing a hysterical finger your way, and screaming that you did this to be called the head of the clan.
A quick mention of how your siblings lacked any resemblance to your father but an uncanny one with his trusted servant made her very tight-lipped.
"The higher-ups aren't pleased with the fiasco?" you inquire.
"What d'you think?" Satoru says dryly.
The entire population of the building had to have their phones wiped, memories too, and paid a huge sum in repairs due to your powers.
Apparently, people had thought there was a fire-breathing dragon that appeared in Tokyo.
Facing the garden, you pull the covers away. Crimson seeps through the white, like blood-tainting snow. Satoru is dressed in black pants and a white shirt, his bomber jacket was the same one you'd picked out for him some time ago.
This familiarity is not lost on him. The look in your eyes, that faraway gaze and twitching of your lips. When your mother had passed, you seemed lost but at this very moment it was as though the answer was right before you, that mishappen vision of your destiny a hair away from you.
Suguru had that same look.
"They whisper about you now," you giggle out as he takes his glasses, folding them in his lap. "They always do," he tries not to sound cocky but it's interwoven with every word.
"No. Satoru. They whisper about your curse," you wiggle your toes and stifle a grimace as the cut on your foot stings in protest. "Geto Suguru who killed his parents and (L/N) (Y/N) who nearly burned his father alive."
"They think you made us insane."
"I need reassurance." A laugh spills from your lips. He watches you curl your knees and place your elbows on them with your forehead braced on your knuckles as you give him your full attention. The sun glowed from behind you. The light does not reach your face.
"I'm not crazy, Satoru." His eyes meet yours and your smile slips away.
"I need reassurance that you won't go the same path Geto Suguru did."
"I don't resent non-sorcerers," you say curtly. "Don't play dumb." Satoru's neck is littered with traces of you. Akin to a collar. "Did the higher-ups ask you to execute me, Satoru? Do they wish to incite war on the (Y/N) clan?"
' My, you took to your role quickly, ' Satoru thinks.
"They worry that the new head of the (L/N) clan took his title with force."
"Not all of us were born with such legendary curse techniques. Is that a crime?"
Satoru's grip causes spiderwebs to appear on his glasses. "Do not be obtuse, (Y/N). You know what is implied. You've played this polite game of veiled threats and boasting for years. You know what they ask and you know what I ask."
"I don't." Shades of red bloom underneath your bandages. If Satoru concentrates enough, he could hear how the gauze seeps it and how your stitches strain as you straighten your back.
"Speak plainly."
"(Y/N)," your glare silences him.
"Speak plainly, Gojo Satoru."
Red-veined roots wrap around his throat. That precious willow tree was smoking, sparks of embers bursting from the center as it creaked and moaned. Its branches gnarled, its flowers leaving nothing but ashes.
"If the Grade 1 sorcerers weren't called to stop the fight, would you have killed him?"
The windchimes sing gently. Water gently flows from one end of the bamboo spout to the other. The birds chirp, the clouds move, and the world continues its song and dance.
Satoru's ears feel like someone has stuffed cotton in them. He makes sense of the words you speak by reading your lips, he hopes you're jesting so he looks into your eyes.
The windchimes still.
The shoji doors slide open and the same servant greets you.
"You have visitors, Master (L/N). A man named Nanami Kento and a woman named Shoko Ieiri. They've come with Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara as well."
"Please, send them in and escort Gojo Satoru to his car."
She stands, waiting for Satoru to do the same as his glasses threaten to shatter in his hand.
"Do not do this to me, my beloved."
"Have you ever loved me? Truly?"
His indignation fuels you with sick fascination. The corpse of Suguru grins, his cracked lips pressed to the junction of your neck as he praises you.
"I love you, (Y/N)."
"Then give me the same grace you gave our beloved Suguru. Leave me and cast your gaze aside. If you truly love me, husband. Grant me this final wish."
He whips his head to the side, reaching forward and grabbing the back of your head. It aches. Every shredded muscle and rattled bones, bruised organs and cut skin.
But he holds you against him. His lips taint yours.
Suguru chuckles coyly.
"Please." His forehead is pressed against yours, and you can feel it, that raised scar.
"I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, don't do this."
"Satoru," Suguru whispers it along with you. His tears almost taste sweet as they slip down his cheeks and land on your lips. That ghost, the one that drapes itself on your back with his bony ribs and dirt-covered gojogesa, his smile graces your face as Satoru's heart dies once again.
"Fuck off."
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"Is it strange?" Megumi quirks a brow at you from across the table. You set down a plate of cut-up fruits, stealing an apple for yourself before you sit.
"Finding out he's alive 2 months later."
The expression on his face makes you struggle to hold in your laughter. You've never said it out loud but Megumi looked like a prickly sea urchin every time he was pissed off and now he was pricklier than ever.
"I wanted to pummel Gojo to the ground. Yuji too." He stabs into an apple and the loud, angry, chewing makes you giggle. His brows pinch as you grimace but you tell him not to worry.
The dining room is unmistakably grand. Feeling far too empty. Megumi much preferred your old penthouse. This manor was far too big, far too pretentious. Which wasn't a slight on your clan, just their tastes in design.
"Did he really never tell you?" he narrows his eyes.
"We haven't talked much," you reply. Megumi finds that hard to believe. You were both teachers at Jujutsu High, so interactions were unavoidable. Everyone has seen you and Satoru side by side, talking to each other about this or that. No matter how short or icy the interaction was...it was still something.
Formalities were still shared, and Satoru's crass behavior softened just as his voice does when he talks to you.
There must be some lingering awkwardness, Megumi is not naive to think that there wouldn't be. But, it was clear that there was still some affection Satoru held for you. It was almost jarring to see how blatantly you ignored it when once upon a time, you’d been silently blushing at his efforts. Megumi wondered if the two of you had yelled at each other again. He hoped that was not the case. Your relationship was far from perfect but...it wasn't as though Gojo did not deserve your bitterness.
"Is it because you're seeing Mr Nanami?" Sweetness slips down the fork and you hand him a tissue. “Is this like those shitty TV shows?”
The idea of this being a revenge arc against your ex-husband was humorous. Kento was far from the plotting type. He may be annoyed by Satoru but he wasn’t a man who would intertwine his hands with another for the sake of hurting someone.
“Haha,” you said dryly. “Finish up your homework, I’ll drive you back to school.”
Megumi doesn’t pout. At least he think he doesn’t.
He does.
He pouts as you walk out from the room.
Megumi continues to pout even in the car ride back to the dorms. You’re watching from the corner of your eyes, lips curled in endearment.
“Do you like Mr Nanami?” He blinks at the question, turning his head to look at you. Megumi crosses his arms, pout dissipating into a thin line.
“I don’t know him, but from what Yuji tells me, he is a very reliable man.”
“He is,” you continue to gaze out the window, ignoring the itchiness of the healing wounds. The only solace in this pain is that your father’s was greater. Still comatose, skin still peeling as the heat lingers in his bones.
Saying this out loud would make the crows that follow your every movement very rich though.
“In some ways, he reminds me of you. Both of you have a stoic expression, so mature-looking. Mr Nanamin is 27, so it suits him. But you, my beautiful son, — “
Megumi grunts as you poke his forehead.
“ — you are only 15. Stop frowning!” He yells in protest as you stretch his cheeks, frowns only deepening as he tries to escape your grasp.
Yuji waits in the hallways. Megumi and you pause in your steps and Yuji’s eyes widen as he opens his mouth.
“Mr (Y/N)!”
Mirth swims in your eyes. “Itadori, did you need something?” He scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks blush. How cute. Young love was such a sight to behold.
“Isn’t it?” Suguru sighs. “In the same halls, we used to walk through too, (Y/N).”
“No! Ah, just, I heard footsteps so I thought I could hang out with Fushiguro for a little.” You push Megumi not to subtly towards his room/Yuji.
“He’s all yours,” your cooing tints Megumi’s ears pink. He mumbles he wants to wash up first and Yuji just seems excited he didn’t turn down his offer. “Don’t stay up too late, Itadori. Classes are bright and early tomorrow,” he salutes you and the bright smile he has is so contagious you grin as well.
The eye on his cheek split open to take a glimpse.
As you turn, it slips close.
Kento waits for you at the house. He smells like petrichor and as you get closer there’s the distinctly sharp taste of lightning-struck earth. You burrow your face in the crisp white shirt he wears, and he smiles. You can tell even without looking. He always huffs in amusement before he smiles.
“Did you have a good day?” You shrug your shoulders and he slips his hands around you. Those strong arms squeeze you, molding you to his frame. “Did you?” He makes a noise, something between a hum and a grunt and you peek up at him.
Kento visited you frequently during your recovery. He sent you to school during your first days back, then he sent your favourite foods during your lunch and they turned into flowers.
His shy courting was anything but. Kento pursued you with a hunter's grace but a priest's devotion.
Could anyone blame you for accepting his attempts? He made your heart flutter, swoon and race. For the first time in your life, someone was sending you flowers in hopes of you paying attention to them. Kento fed you while you healed and the same day you find out that his eyes do soften when he kissed.
People whisper about how quickly you brought Kento home. Infidelity, they say. Hah! What a load of bullshit. A servant must’ve opened her mouth, one whose loyalties still laid with your stepmother.
How unlucky was it that her home had been burnt down the very day she was fired?
You wrote her your condolences. She begged for your forgiveness.
Kento doesn’t know this. You’re determined for it to remain that way.
“Today was nothing special. Tonight is a different story,” your brows raise at his flustered gaze. “I made reservations for us.”
There it goes again, your heart swoons. Kento tilts his head into your palm and you wonder what your life would have been like if you had noticed his gaze back then.
After that kiss, after knowing that he returned your feelings and only spoke of his interest in a baker because of your marriage, he confessed how he’d been smitten with you the longer that school year passed.
“You were training hand-to-hand with Geto,” he whispers to you, as if shy to confess this. You’re sat with the covers a mess at your legs and the food on the tray forgotten. He’s flustered? He kissed you silly mere seconds ago while you were wrapped up with bandages. The scent of healing ointments practically radiated from you. He was so put together and you’d been going through your clan's financial statements since 3 am.
Kento remembers it like it was yesterday. The way you lifted yourself up into the air, your leg was a blur as you spun. Tendrils of your hair caught the gleam of the sun and it glowed like vinyl. The ringing laughter that followed as Suguru dodged made his heart squeeze.
“We’re supposed to be working on your close combat skills, Su-Su!”
“Quit aiming for my head, (nickname)!” Suguru dashes towards you and you yelp as he catches your middle but the shock wears off. Suguru grunts when you press your palms down on his shoulders and dig your heels into the ground before kicking off, pushing Suguru down.
“Go, (nickname)!” Yū cheers beside Kento. He rolls on top of you, smiling victoriously until your legs wrap around his waist and twist.
“Oi, S’guru! I bet money on you!” Satoru waved his fist around while Shoko curled her fingers expectantly his way.
Kento can’t believe you’re real. Your smile is so wide he can see your gums, the sweat that beads down your skin makes you glimmer like a gem and despite the dirt on your skin Kento can’t fathom it to be a smudge or mistake.
Because everything about you seemed deliberately made. The blood and flesh of those before you must have loved each other so greatly to bless you with such a face. He wonders if, in the future, they’ll find traces of him in your bloodline.
Fire in the wind. Wild and free and untameable.
“You win, you win!” Suguru goes limp and you giggle. Rolling off of him, you lay down on the grass as he spreads his arms out like a starfish. You cushion your head on it and spot the bruise on his neck that peaks out from his unzipped jacket.
“Su-Su, you’re not holding back, are you?” you turn your gaze to the sky. He’d be a Special-grade sorcerer with no problem. His ability was insanely useful, and flexible - a trump deck of a technique. If he exceeded in close combat, that grade would be his with no ifs or buts.
The strongest.
Suguru blinks once, and twice, then offers a warm smile.
“Give yourself more credit, (nickname). You totally beat my ass.”
“You‘re amazing,” Kento tells you as the memory fades away. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I was content with watching from the sidelines,” your finger presses to his lips and Kento’s eyes widen. It slides across his bottom lip before it travels below his jaw and ear and you’re leaning in.
“A reservation?” Your eyes twinkle. It would explain why he was dressed so nicely. It must not be the fanciest place since he wasn’t dressed in a suit and tie but the watch he wears hints at luxury nonetheless.
“Go, get ready,” he tells you in that gentle tone that makes his voice go so deep. Everything about Kento’s actions felt so intimate. You would think he’d be reserved, wanting to go slow as to be proper. In your world, death is a guillotine blade that’s dug into your neck over and over again.
Kento can be courteous but to assume he would go slow was not likely. He knows you, (Y/N). From those times in high school to the fleeting glances of you during meetings and the mission you went on; he sees you.
Perhaps it’s just the way sorcerers will always love each other.
The way Suguru loved Satoru. The way Megumi loves Yuuji. The way you loved Satoru. The way Satoru loves you.
None of you were made for casual affection. Everything and everyone that falls for wicked beings like you find themselves with deep marks embedded in their shoulders, arms, and neck; desperate hounds begging for their man to not leave them but unable to pull their teeth out.
So Kento grips you and kisses you with a heavy weight of relief and you return it.
The Gods have taken too much from you. Kento will not be one of those things they rip away from your fingers - no, not him.
“‘Atta boy,” Suguru’s decaying arms circle your waist as you walk the halls of the house. When you shed your clothes to clean yourself, Suguru sits on the edge of the bathtub. The humidity makes him look paler and his eyes more bloodshot.
“You deserve someone like him. A good man to fill that cavernous void. Kento’s always been hiding his flustered face every time you walk past him,” Suguru moves his hands around as he talks. You don’t remember him being so chatty but as of late, this apparition keeps the voices in your head quiet. He makes sure you’re not alone.
Your father must’ve knocked your head hard enough for some screws to come loose but you find it hard to care.
“Cavernous?” you mumble. Suguru pauses then leans back a bit. His hair swaying as he does so.
“Do you think it’s enough? Being loved after everything you’ve been through, is that enough for you?”
“...Was it enough for you? In your final moments, was it enough?”
What would this Suguru know about his final moments? He wasn’t real, he never had been. He’s just a manifestation of your hurt, a coping mechanism your brain conjured for some hellish reason.
“I died by Satoru’s hand and then, died in his embrace. What could be more poetic than that?”
You died in Satoru’s arms too. That night he took you as his husband. The weeping, the love confessions, the moaning. Your heart was racing in your chest as he thrust into you, his face nearly scarlet as he kissed you.
The heat that pools between your legs makes Suguru guffaw.
He dips his hand in and traces your thighs.
“Kento’s hands are rougher than ‘Toru’s. Fingers thick and finger pads sanded with hard work. Everything you taught him as his upperclassman he still uses today.”
Shuddering, you slip your knees apart. Suguru takes a hold of your cock.
“You’ve always had the best legs, ya’ know. So strong, even your punches hurt like hell."
You lean back, eyes lidded with pleasure as Suguru pumps his fist. The water spills over the side as he slips in with you, his hair acting like curtains as he peers down at you. His slanted eyes and those onyx eyes make you feel powerless against his desires.
"He'd be so sincere with you. Every thrust," a gasp makes him chuckle darkly. "Every stroke," you moan and grip the sleeves of his robe. "Every kiss," his lips trace the bridge of your nose.
"S'guru..."
"A testament to his adoration for you. He'd worship you, (nickname). But will that be enough? His skin on yours? Is his heart in your hands instead of the other way around exciting? Will that finally fill this void?"
Your spine arches and your knees bump into the edge of the bathtub. Suguru's breath feels like a hurricane as he kisses the side of your jaw, his fist damn near merciless.
"Will you accept his sacrifice, (nickname)?"
When you come, you squeeze your eyes shut. The floor is slick with water and steam makes everything fuzzier than it needs to be. As you lift your hand from beneath the water, you grimace at the sight.
How shameful.
You settle the bath by yourself, the servants didn't need to see more than they've already heard.
Kento is waiting by his car when you step out. He drinks in the sight of you, unable to stop himself from kissing you as you come close. As usual, he opens the door for you, and you stroke the cream-coloured leather seats of his Mercedes Benz.
"Ready, (Y/N)?" He reaches over to hold your hand and you bring it to your lips before he can. He can feel the softness of your lips, the slight gloss that sticks to his skin that makes his crotch tighter than his pants liked.
"Ready, Mr Nanami." Kento chuckles, squeezing your shameful hand and bringing it to his lips next.
Suguru sits in the backseat, his dark eyes keeping themselves glued on you. You see him in reflections, in puddles, in every monotone face that walks past.
As Kento settles you on his lap, his thick cock making you feel stars and heaven itself, Suguru is still watching.
"Ken, I - "
Kento sinks his teeth into your neck and you groan. His hands are big and rough, just like Suguru said they'd be. They grope and squeeze and bruise. He grabs a handful of each cheek and your thighs are thankful for it. Kento lifts you so effortlessly it makes your desire feel unquenchable.
His strength doesn't surprise you. The gym in his apartment complex was one he frequented. If he didn't want to mingle, he had a dedicated room for working out in his home. You've seen the weights he has, how interesting was it that they were the same weight as you, (Y/N).
"(Y/N), does that feel good?" You squeeze the tip of his cockhead in reply and sink down on him to cement it. His cock keeps kissing your prostate, the drag of his dick makes you want to be keen and whine.
His hair looked good when it was dishevelled, which makes his jaw sharper and his nose makes you want to grind on it. Kento shifts and moves to lay you down on his pillows. Your legs wrap around his waist and twist.
The aching muscles hiss in protest but the lust that flows through you overcomes it.
"(Y/N)..."
Kento tries to sit up but your hands on his chest keep him down.
"(Y/N)".
"Kento."
Suguru traces his jaw and it's no surprise Kento does not react. He grips at your waist, whispering your name again. You pin his arms next to his head and Kento's eyes widen.
There it is. That darkness that takes over that molten brown. It only reflects you. Suguru is peering over your shoulder, his hands circling your neck as his dark tongue licks your cheek.
"You want what I want, Ken," you murmur against his lips. "To come undone by each other's hands, to devour each other, to be one."
"Yes," he breathes out. "Then let me feel you like this," you brought his hands to your waist once again, and he planted his heels into his mattress.
"I want to see you unravel under me, Kento. I want to see you, all of you, just as you do."
He nods and you grant him a kiss, allowing your tongues to dance.
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"Do you intend to keep following me forever?"
Kento's balcony is unexpectedly warm. You can smell the breakfast he's making as you nurse your cup of tea. For your throat, he tells you.
How pervertedly kind.
The crow tilts its head and you narrow your eyes at it. "They must've paid a heavy sum. Or was it my stepmother?" It flaps its wings, preening the under feathers. Lifting your hand, you press your pointer and middle finger together. It squawks, hopping as it flaps its wings again.
"I'll pay you more to leave me alone. My ex-husband has left a hefty fortune for me. If this persists, I won't hesitate to wipe the floor with you, Mei-Mei."
The crow squawks again but turns its head to leave.
A crisping feather floats gently down onto the floor of the balcony. By the time Kento walks over to place the tray of food down on the table, it turns to nothing but ash in the wind.
"You spoil me," your legs are over his lap and he brings those hands to massage them. "You spoiled me," he answers. "Just showing my appreciation."
A group of crows flies past but Kento is cutting up your food and moving to feed you. Your cheeks burn, you open your mouth and Kento's gentle grin makes your heart race.
"I don't recall him having a temper, are the rumours true?"
Mei-Mei had better things to do. Her time was worth more than stalking someone's ex-lover. However, the head of the Gojo clan was a generous man. How could she refuse?
"Do you truly make them go insane?" He can hear her smile from over the phone. "He attacked you?" Satoru rolls his ring over his knuckles and between his fingers. The classroom was empty as the students trained on the field.
"He's committed arson against a servant who was trading secrets with Lady (L/N) and now he's burned a crow into nothing but dust. He even offered to pay more than you have. What a lucky man he is to have divorced from an endless fountain of wealth."
"Yeah? Maybe you should try that instead of chasing after green."
"Careful, Gojo. I still have my pride."
He places the ring on his palm, curling his fingers over it.
"Kento and him make a handsome couple. I almost feel jealous." Satoru would be stupid to believe Mei-Mei trusted that this stalking was him feeling possessive. She wasn't an idiot. He was concerned about you. Your grandiose act of nearly burning your father alive was the talk of the town.
The evidence of it being self-defense was backed up by the cameras in your home (the ones that hadn't melted anyway).
But it was too convenient.
Satoru is a man who is filled with memories. As careless and crass as he portrays himself as, he's sentimental. He slips a hand into his pocket and your ring is accompanied by Suguru's button.
The cameras were damaged enough to make it out as if it was just saved by fate. But Satoru knows your flames better than most. It burns everything. Devours with a hunger that no beast could compete with. It's indiscriminate. Which is why your aim is immaculate.
If it hadn't melted, you wouldn't be as free as you are now. Even in your rage and fear, you were careful to ensure your longevity.
"I'm sure you do."
"The divorce barely made a dent?"
"You already know the answer to that. Make sure he doesn't suspect me, I'll pay double."
"And if he faces me?"
Satoru grits his teeth together.
"Run."
Kiyotaka waits for him at the front of the school, that usual sour-puckered face and obscene politeness manages to elicit a grin from Satoru. The drive to the house on the hill is filled with silence, which is for the best seeing as how tightly wound he was.
Kiyotaka knew divorce could put people on edge but seeing Satoru’s fists tremble on his lap, knuckles nearly turning bone white and all, terrified him.
The gates are opened after Satoru rolls down his windows. He should ask why they were here but his instincts knew better.
“I’ll be out in an hour or so. You don’t mind waiting, do ya’?”
“Of course not, Mr Gojo.”
He smiles, giving Kiyotaka a firm squeeze on his shoulder before walking inside the modern home. Its grey colours looked atrocious against the vibrant greens of nature. Ah, Satoru was glad you had better tastes compared to the rest of your family.
Your stepmother waits for him in the living room. The carpet before her is littered with toys of all sorts. The youngest of the family takes a liking to smash some toy cars together while the others were most likely tended to by their governess.
“Mr Gojo,” she stands with a certain air of grace that prickles his skin. He nods politely her way.
"Is he doing better today?" The machines that they've hooked him to made him resemble a sick science experiment. Perhaps it's poetic justice from his late wife. The curtains were drawn and the only light was dim to ensure his skin wasn't exposed to any more unnecessary heat. There were talisman papers pasted on the walls and ceilings which Satoru thinks is entirely too much.
"Have you..."
The exposed split of bandages reveals nothing more than charred flesh and peeling skin. A hint of bone and muscle too that help him speak. Satoru ignores the hazmat suits, stepping through the heavy plastic curtains. His infinity wouldn't bring any harmful germs into this room, never had so far too.
"Leave." His wife commands in that shrill voice.
The doctors and attendants bow deeply and the door closes behind her. She sits close to the wall, outside the curtain.
"Have I?" There's writing on the bandages. Sutras are written in some sort of special ink that emits curse energy.
"killed (Y/N)." He sighs, crossing his arms as he spreads his legs.
"My son-in-law — " It might be cruel to tune out the words of a man who's half-dead, but Satoru cannot believe he's spouting this again. A part of him wished you had burnt through his throat. Satoru sighs loudly, tossing his head back and scrunching his face.
"Old man, the divorce papers have been signed. I haven't been your son-in-law in a whole month."
Between this and your increasingly violent tendencies that Mei-Mei keeps reporting back, those curses spirits working together popping up, Itadori Yuji's attempted assassination (and the mysterious way he rose from the dead...) — Satoru was in no mood.
He does not agree with your decision to commit attempted murder. But make no mistake, he fully believed the bastard deserved it.
"You keep telling me to kill him. I shouldn't have to say this, but you do know in the decade Geto Suguru was gallivanting around, I did nothing because he was dear to me. (Y/N) is dear to me. I'll wait 50 fucking decades before I lay a hand on him."
"You dare curse at my lord husband?" Satoru glances at her from over his shoulder. That distorted reflection makes her look more attractive than she actually is. "Lord of what? Gauze and morphine? If we're doing a dick-measuring contest, I win. Sit down. Your voice is annoying."
She sputters, mouth opening again. So Satoru tilts his head, flexing his fingers as he clicks his tongue.
"Woman." The ' lord ' croaks out. She watches him raise a hand, shaky fingers flicking outwards and Satoru swears steam nearly shoots out from her ears. The door has a soft-close feature which makes her attempt at slamming it void but it brings a smile to Satoru's face.
"The rumours, of my clan."
Now that was far more interesting for Satoru. His silence is a prompt for the man to continue. A sharp intake of breath comes in quick twos and threes as his bandaged hands squeeze the trigger for the drip of morphine.
Then his shoulders sink into the mattress and he speaks.
"The Binding Vow we've broken. The karma we faced since then...I think, I fear, I..."
Satoru feels his ring heat up against his sternum, so he leans forward and it's cradled by the button of his shirt.
"I fear he's paid the price, wholly, his self-righteous pain...he's balanced the scales..."
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"I messed up."
The chattering of the skulls at least fills silence. Satoru can see why it'll quickly become a nuisance that will make his ears shrivel in disdain but for now, he finds it better than nothing. Whatever it is underneath him pokes him and shifts against his clothes.
Slipping a digit under the rim of his blindfold, Satoru tugs on it and exhales through his nose.
"Things are not looking good."
"Yo, Satoru."
The weight of the blindfold rests over his eyelids and Satoru sinks into the mass below him.
"I'd kill him a thousand times if I could, Satoru."
' Would you really, my beloved? ' Satoru's lips twitch into a grin. No, you wouldn't. Maybe in the moment, that night fuelled by fear and anger. The morning after when your pain still pulsed under ripped-open skin; but he knew you, his beloved, his darling friend; his (Y/N). Your father was nothing but a frail man who knew nothing of what he spoke of.
You'd be safe, protected, and cared for regardless of who you lay with or whose heart you hold. Kento be damned. You were his first and his always. Suguru's corpse was a jarring sight. A painful one too. He'd bury him properly, his love for him will join him in that new grave. His love for you will haunt him for as long as you walk this earth.
He unbuttons his outerwear, tugging on the silver chain until he unclasps it. The blue gem twinkles sweetly his way and he slips it on his finger where his skin all but sighs in comfort.
"Well, there'll always be a way. I'm counting on you, everyone." "Sealed...?"
Kento moves forward and you stare at his frame as he does. Megumi's head swivels to follow him and Ino's as well, they walk in step with him but you stand there in shock.
"Move," Suguru whispers to you. The joints of his fingers dig into your back as his hair curtains your peripheral field of vision. "(Y/N). Move."
"(Y/N)?" Ino's voice causes the group to pause. Their eyes are expectant. Megumi wonders why he cannot pinpoint the flickering emotions on your face while Kento's gaze takes note of your trembling hands.
"NA-NA-MIN!"
His touch shocks cause your pupils to jitter into focus. Kento says nothing, simply squeezing your forearm as he whispers your name.
"If they sealed him, our top priority will be undoing that."
"You know this, (nickname)," Suguru bites, the click of his teeth sending shivers down your spine. "(Y/N) — " You move past Kento, curling your fingers into fists and feeling Suguru thread him through yours.
"Let's be quick about it then."
This feeling...
"It's like that day," Suguru croaks, "the day he died. Your heart is beating so fast. Do you still ____ him, (Y/N)? Do you truly?"
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"Why is he off limits?" Geto does that serene smile that makes Jogo simmer in annoyance. "Jogo, you can't kill everyone you see in battle. There's some grace in keeping a certain few alive."
"Will he be used as a hostage to make Gojo Satoru fall in despair?" his words humour Geto, truly amuses him. Mahito lifts his head from the ground, leaning on the heels of his hand as he peers at the two of them.
"Man, Jogo. You really are wicked," Geto peers at the shimmering scales of the curses that lurk within the waters.
"He's not for Gojo Satoru's imprisonment."
"Don't keep us in the dark, Geto," Mahito voices out Jogo's thoughts, his mismatched eyes impatient.
"Gojo (Y/N) is for..."
You yell as the eel tightens its body around you, digging your heels into the sand as Dagon summons it to themselves. The force of it makes your back bow and no amount of strength could stop it. Dagon holds the back of your skull and you hear Megumi yell out for you.
"(Y/N)!" Kento takes several steps forward and Maki grits her teeth.
Naobito focuses his gaze on their escape, knowing that they would be able to help the poor fool if they were outside of the domain.
But then.
"That man — " Dagon pulls you to its chest and your eyes widen as Fushiguro Toji appears before you. His eyes, it must be some sort of sorcery cast, a trick, a body double. Your fear recognizes you. He shifts his gaze to meet yours and there's a smirk on his face.
"Still alive, are you, freak?" The cursed weapon in his hand rattles in the air and then straightens. He aims it right at you and you brace yourself for the pain.
Dagon blocks it at the cost of its hand.
' It's protecting me!? ' You grunt at the blood that sprays onto your face and into your mouth, coughing as Dagon tries to fight Toji.
"Hah? Did you leave your husband for this thing?" The eel that held you disappeared into nothing after the barrage of hits he had laid out. Dagon tries to grab you but you engulf your fists into flames and spin to punch its face. Dagon does not let you escape but Toji is running toward you again so you plant your heel into its head, kicking off from its chest to fall right into the waters.
Kento catches you in his arms, and the tension of the surface breaks with monstrous sea beasts that try to land a hit on Toji. With his arms occupied, he relies on you to deter them as he makes his way back to Megumi's simple domain.
Megumi —
You stare at him as he asks you if you're alright.
Megumi, you should tell him who this man was. You should —
Dagon is exorcised.
The ground beneath you disappears. It takes a second too long for you to catch your bearings. Brain rattled and breathe knocked out of you as peel yourself off the ground. Kento, Maki, Naobito —
"Megumi!?" Kento helps you up and you take a step forward to follow the sounds of destruction but the air grows thick.
Satoru was never an artist. The horrendous rendition of the curses that attacked him the same night your father had looked as though it'd been drawn by kindergartners. But it was unmistakably him.
The disaster curse. Bald and one-eyed.
His fire makes the water on your skin steam into the air. He removes Naobito, and you move to protect Maki by getting between them. Barely in time, she still crumples to the floor but she would live if taken to Shoko quick enough. His eye widens as you stand unscathed, your clothes flaking off like snow as your skin reddens and steams.
"Gojo (Y/N)."
"Divine Flame."
He lifts his hand just as you do.
"Do not let him use his curse technique, Jogo. He's not as strong as Satoru, but you'll thank me," Geto's voice coos.
"God's Bl — "
"Kuantan?" he sets down the rest of the breakfast he made. His home is as neat and crisp as he is — though there are still traces of himself. His hopes especially. The mountain of books, the pamphlets about Malaysia here and there. If you peered into his room, Kento had even laid out a few notes of plans he hoped to fulfill. It was as if he was waiting for the perfect moment, lying in wait.
"The beaches are nice. The food as well," he sits across from you and pauses as you pat the spot next to you. Endeared, Kento settles where you ask. "Perhaps after Megumi graduates to a second year," he stays silent for a moment and watches you eat.
"...Would you resent me for not marrying you until I retire?"
You pause mid-chew, blinking at him for a moment. Then you turn your gaze on the plate, eyes trailing after the dew drop of water on the lettuce.
"I won't if you do not regret marrying someone from a sorcerer clan."
He pinches the lobe of your ear gently, tracing the shell with so much fondness he chuckles as it warms under his touch. It was damn near perverted how he did it — your heart races as he turns your face his way.
"I could never regret being yours, (Y/N)."
That memory burst into flames. His house, his books, his hopes, and his dreams. Jogo stands there in the ashes and he smiles at you with those blackened teeth.
"(nickname)," Suguru whispers. Your trembling hands stiffen as he strokes the insides of your wrists, his empty gaze reflecting you as he stands in front of you. "Balance the scales."
"Gojo (Y/N)!" Jogo exclaims proudly. "Y — !"
Jogo barely had time to react to your kick. Bursting through windows and walls. He digs his fingers into the floor and just as he lifts his head he sees your shadowed face. Your pupils were nothing but a speck of (E/C) on white as smoke slithers between your lips.
"Divine Flame — "
A spear pierces through your stomach. Jogo covers his eye just in time before your blood splatters on it. Breathing through your nose, you grasp at the crimson-soaked spear, eyes widening as you take in the details of it.
"Impossible," you turn to look and it's there. Satoru had let you name it this time, among the Fredericks and other silly names he dubbed Suguru's curses as this one was the one you named.
"Togatta?" It does not give any sign of recognition but there was no mistake.
Jogo's fist makes contact with your chest and you choke, coughing up spit and blood before he lands a final blow on the back of your neck.
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The puddle of blood grows next to him. Those stupid girls, demanding things of Ryomen Sukuna, threatened to fight him with no plan nor strength. Humans were really something else.
Jogo waits for Ryomen to ask and then and only then he tells him he didn't want anything but Ryomen's freedom. Sukuna's crimson eyes take interest in the cursed object Jogo has slung around his neck; a dark shard of glass that pulses a steadily beating blue within it.
"Ten fingers and what's mine?" He looked beyond pleased.
"You've outdone yourselves." Jogo gulps, unbinding the rope around his neck and using both hands to present it to Sukuna. He takes it after a particularly gentle stroke of the sharp edges, then places it in his pockets.
"Ryomen Sukuna?" Geto nods assuredly. The rolling waves melting into the sand give leeway for Jogo and Mahito to process his words. What could Ryomen Sukuna find useful in Gojo (Y/N)? He was a Grade 1 sorcerer but he was not like his husband.
"His family line, the (L/N) clan, is a disgraced one. All the men are weak, all the women dimwitted and the children cursed. Sorcerer society looks at them in disdain, calling them desperate and thieving. It was the child from the (L/N) clan that made it possible for Ryomen Sukuna to be sealed. A son with a curse technique so strong and a face so beautiful, Ryomen Sukuna took him as his property. He had forced the boy into a Binding Vow — one the boy broke to defeat Ryomen Sukuna."
"It left the clan with nothing but shame. The Gods inflict karma on generations to come even if the Vow was wicked beyond belief. Sorcerer society rejected them and curled their noses at the clan that saved them from extinction. I still remember that boy's face."
Geto chuckles, leaning back in his seat as he closes his eyes.
"Mahito, do you think a soul ever comes back in a new body?"
Reincarnation or divine coincidence.
Jogo does not ponder on the question. All he knows is that giving Sukuna an ancestor of the boy whom he favoured, whom he made into a treasured concubine, pleased him.
"This is your reward for the fingers. Come at me. If you manage to land even a single blow on me, I'll work under you all."
Megumi is still leaning against the shutter doors. The shinigami he released, it's a beast that Sukuna had never had the pleasure of seeing before he was locked away. Placing his hand over Megumi's chest, he heals the wounds to ensure Megumi is no longer on the precipice of death and darts his eyes toward the rope that sticks out from his pockets.
He slips the shard into Megumi's hand, recalling how fond you were of the boy. How perfect. This world — this era, truly was made for him. Everything would be his. Men, women, and children — all for him to devour indiscriminately.
With Uraume and (Y/N) with him, this age of haughty sorcerers with abilities he'd never seen, ah. His mouth waters from the very thought. Once he obtains Fushiguro Megumi's body. Once you submit to him. Once he kills Gojo Satoru. Once he destroys Itadori Yuji into nothing.
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"Na..."
The sight before him, it made his stomach twist into knots again and again and again...
Kento sees himself in Yū's eyes, he points to Yuji and Kento can't bring himself to say anything to the boy.
"Nanamin..."
The nickname makes his heart squeeze in relief. That youth that he wants to protect, is still there in his final moments and that alone would have made Kento die without regrets — but he's lying to himself.
He made a promise to you to return to your side. You did not ask him to say "alive" because just having a body to bury is a miracle in your world. (Y/N), he saw that stubborn strife in your eyes even as you nodded.
Too little time spent with you. Those 2 months of pure love with you, it would never be enough but he cherishes them all the same. He hopes you can tolerate this pain — he never wished for you to go through this before him, (Y/N).
He should have introduced you to his family.
He should have kissed you deeply before tonight began.
He should have given you everything you deserved.
Ah, regret truly is the worst feeling in the world.
He wants to take care of you like he promised to, (Y/N).
What could he say to Yuji to make him understand what this means?
Mahito's curse energy was enveloping his soul and Kento used the bit of strength he had left to ensure Yuji would not be the one to kill his transfigured corpse. The least he could do, this cruel kindness... "I'll leave the rest to you."
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"My husband."
Shoko pauses. Satoru is not looking her way, instead, staring at the ceiling with a bored expression.
"He did not greet me," she's glad that he does not see the way she clenches the box of cigarettes in her pocket. Or maybe he does because he straightens his composure and asks;
"Is he still pissed at me or is he dead?"
"....We don't know, Satoru." His nose curls in distaste. Still, he waits for her to continue.
"Nobody has seen him and there's no time nor resources to sift through the rubble of Shibuya to find him. The last person to have seen him alive was Maki, she says that he was against the onne-eyed disaster curse."
"He'd have no trouble exorcising that baldy." Satoru is being too kind, you would struggle but you'd still win. He was sure of it. Then again, your abilities were too similar — a tie maybe? You had more wit, you'd win.
Or is that denial talking?
"Nanami died by Mahito's hand," Shoko pulls the box out and tosses it aside as he takes out the final cigarette. "Does he know that?"
"Maybe he's already with Nanami."
"Shoko."
"All of you are dropping like flies around me. Was there an invite I was never given?" She doesn't cry but Satoru stands to walk towards her anyway.
"Yū, Suguru, Kento, (Y/N)," she allows him to hold her shoulder and pull her in but does not return the affection. Should she? Would this be the final memory of Gojo Satoru she had?
"He isn't dead." Satoru pulls away after a long minute. The smile on his face makes her hopes soar and Shoko doesn't understand why she can't force it down.
"I can feel it. He's still here. Don't host a funeral just yet, yeah?"
"You're way too cocky, do you know that?"
"I have every right to be."
"Mr Gojo." Satoru wonders what Yuji would say to him. He wonders where the scars come from, when his eyes had ever been so dull or hardened, he wonders if Yuji will bounce back from everything; if he'll regret being so selfless in the first place.
"Itadori," he braces his arm on his hips, and Yuji's shoulder droops.
"Mr (Y/N), Nanamin...he said he'd leave it to me. You told Ms Ieiri that you had a feeling he was alive."
"Eavesdropping, Itadori?" Yuji's laughs as Satoru slings an arm around his shoulder, attempting to escape his hand that is ruffling his hair.
"Aah, Mr Gojo, quit it!" Satoru settles with a few more chuckles so Yuji continues. "When everything settles, could you help me fulfill Nanamin's wish?"
"Yuji."
Satoru smiles brightly, squeezing Yuji close as he ruffles the back of his head.
"You leave (Y/N) to me."
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"Does this form please you more?"
Your eyes can't take themselves off the sight before you. Satoru — no, his corpse. What a strange string of words.
Satoru's corpse.
It's too unreal. Those words do not belong to one another. He grasps the back of your head and forces it to face him. You can't decide what is worse; when you wake to Megumi's face twisted in a cruel expression, finding out Tsumiki was being used as a vessel, being shown Kento's death on replay through Sukuna's/Yuji's memory of the moment, or this monstrous being before you with Satoru's corpse behind you.
"My, my, my, don't tempt me," Sukuna does not let you squirm. His four hands held you firmly within his grasp as you wept.
"I truly am delighted your bloodline prevailed. The betrayal should be punished with death but, seeing you again, I'll not make the same mistake twice."
The binding vow that was made with your ancestor, one that made Sukuna keep the flame technique within his grasp and your ancestor in the other. Breaking it left your bloodline with a technique meant to be used only after mastering the innate technique — to put it simply, it was akin to making someone tame a pack of rabid wolves before they even potty-trained a puppy. It was no wonder you were all so weak.
"Keeping such a trump card of a technique hidden from me, how shrewd."
Yuji cannot believe it. Everything was moving too fast. Gojo Satoru was dead, and the era of sorcerers was coming to an end as reality settled in the bones of curses and sorcerers alike. But then, you're there.
Apparated out of thin air — no. The necklace around Sukuna's neck. You were kept there, did you spectate everything? The entire fight? Every person Sukuna had killed —
They had tried their best to look for you and you'd just been there, hidden in plain fucking sight.
Suguru is in your peripheral, you blink and you swear you feel your mind break as he loops his arms around Satoru's corpse. Another blink and Kento and Yū appear, pale and rotten and burnt and dead.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" His eyes are filled with nothing but amusement as you will yourself out of his grasp, your foot making contact with his face as you kick yourself off from it.
The rubble stings your bare feet as you dig your heels into the ground, your dark flames eating away at the sleeves of the silken garments his loyal servant, Uruame, had dressed you in. Feeling its weight disappear fuels you with more ire than you ever thought you'd ever feel.
This man, this monster, had taken everything from you. Even if it kills you, even if you end up burning the entire world into ash and cinder — nothing matters anymore.
Your mother, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi —
Heaven and Hell will rue the day they took them. The Gods have created a new monster in the form of you and Yuji shudders at the empty look in your eyes.
What had you gone through in the months you were gone? The garments you wore were that of highly respected concubines, heavy and silken and patterned.
What had Sukuna done to you? Had he taken the very essence of your soul and ripped it to pieces just like he had done with him?
Kento's words echo in his mind, and Satoru's face appears with a blink. He needed to step in and save you — from yourself and from Sukuna's grasp. His two mentors, he can't let them down, he can't. You were precious to Megumi, to Tsumiki from what Megumi had once told him. Satoru looks at you with such a warm aura, that Kento always threatens to smile when he even mentions you.
Desperation pumps through Yuji's body and he feels his nails elongate, giving it a quick glance before spotting Kashimo descending from the sky.
Sukuna's laughter booms throughout the empty planes and echoes around the destroyed buildings. The very earth shakes with each inhale.
"You truly haven't changed, my concubine! Come! Let's go insane together!"
739 notes · View notes
shintin · 6 months
Text
Forbidden Flames
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↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
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One-shot
Summary: Satoru Gojo receives a letter, inviting him to a secluded cottage in the forest. Is it a trap by curse users or a haunting memory trying to scratch his wounds?
Or a story about how You and Satoru Gojo fucked after years.
Word count: +11 k.
Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Jujutsu Kaisen au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, reader-insert, no Y/N, post-breakup, soft Satoru Gojo, curse user reader, no death, too much fluff and kissing, cunnilingus, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex (c’mon! we all want this), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tear licking, emotional trauma, emotional sex, no manga spoilers.
Notes: Hey there! I wrote this because Gege Akutami left an emotional mark on me. So, you know...
You can read the "Disclaimers" at the end.
Song Recommendation: Forbidden Flames Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.
Back to masterlist
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As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dense foliage, a mysterious man with stark white hair and a black blindfold stepped into the heart of the desolate wilderness. Satoru Gojo. The air hung heavy with the earthy scent of wet soil mingling with the musty aroma of decaying leaves, a reminder of the rainstorm that had visited the night before.
Every step he took got lost between the giggles and hisses of harmless curses hiding behind the trees with fear. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with a mosaic of fallen leaves, their vibrant red, orange, and gold colors now muted and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality. Some of them, with still a breath to take, crunched beneath his weight, the sound of a heartrending dirge that reverberated through the desolation.
Tall, gnarled trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers as if yearning to trap the unwary. Their towering forms were shrouded in darkness, their essence reduced to withered remnants. They whispered mournful laments in the wind, their voices carrying tales of forgotten sorrows.
The forest, once flourishing and thriving, now seemed like a tragic tableau frozen in time. The canopy above formed a suffocating barrier that only got disturbed by the man's ethereal presence. Wild ferns brushed against his legs, leaving behind a trace of dew upon his black trousers. The moist ground yielded beneath his every step as if reluctant to release its grip from his boots' footprints.
As he pressed further into the jungle, the darkness deepened, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth of despair. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like grasping tendrils as if eager to ensnare his soul. The silence became oppressive, broken only by the occasional painful cry of a distant creature.
The cottage he had received its address stood as a solitary figure amidst the gloomy jungle, a crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. Its dilapidated walls whispered of lost hopes and shattered promises, its windows veiled with white curtains.
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he watched the scene before him, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. He thought it was a perfect place, a trap waiting to spring him. But who would be foolhardy enough to challenge the strongest of all times?
But wait!
He couldn't feel any cursed energy! His six eyes were dumb. There was only one who could blind their watchful gaze.
So, when Satoru Gojo approached the house, his heart quickened after a long time, anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins. The stage was set, the elements conspiring to test his resolve. Would he emerge from this shadowed encounter unscathed, or would the jungle claim yet another victim, lost to the depths of its sorrow-laden clutches?
Satoru's focus fixated on the doorknob, a slight gulp revealing his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed open the door. The scent of something sweet enveloped his nostrils, a reminiscent embrace that momentarily distracted his senses. However, as his eyes met the sight that awaited him, an unexpected revelation struck him with a force that resurfaced long-forgotten memories.
The inside resembled an aged hideout, with wooden walls and colorful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting warm, dappled patterns on the worn tatami floor. In the center of the room, a round table took its place, adorned with a vase of delicate forget-me-not flowers. Flanking the table were two chairs. And then, in the small kitchen stood the person who had left a void in his heart.
"You're late," your voice rang out in a cheerful tone, beckoning him forward. "Come inside. It's chilly out." With your back facing the door, you stood at the counter, appearing preoccupied with unwrapping something.
Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Satoru's thoughts fragmented like scattered puzzle pieces, their intended purpose obscured by the inner turmoil. His hand held the doorknob tightly, trapped in a state of ambiguity, unable to release its grip.
Was this a mirage? How could it be that when you seemed precisely the way he had traced the outline of your body in the air while lying in bed, unable to sleep?
Yes, of course, there were nights when the desire to run his fingers through your hair filled his dreams. It was inevitable; your scent permeated everything, even riding on the breeze. There were days fatigue misled him, mistaking weariness for the embrace, he craved, only to discover the hollowness within his very bones. Your body was no longer curled around him, no comfort, and in your absence, each day left him icy, with lips turning blue and hands yearning for the warmth of your touch. He felt adrift in a blizzard, seeking the faint flicker of a fire you had extinguished.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Satoru? Think! Is this a manipulation technique?
And then, as if compelled by an unseen power, you turned your head, causing his heart to skip a beat—countless beats. You were undeniably real.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Seeing you was akin to being hit in the knee with a bullet. Satoru's legs nearly gave way, his heart raced, and his hands turned clammy, almost causing him to collapse. He had never felt this urge to tear off his blindfold before, as your departure had happened so abruptly that he didn't have a chance to see you. Although he had committed every detail of you to memory, but this…this… witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.
He stepped back, feeling the heaviness of the past, necessitating some distance. The harsh truths loomed, threatening to engulf him as he wrestled with the profound effect of your presence. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The reality was so surreal, making it difficult for him to grasp that it was really occurring.
"Why are you just standing there?" you asked, holding a pack of his beloved Kikufuku mochis in your hands. A radiant smile graced your face, illuminating the damp room with its brightness.
He couldn't give two fucks about mochis when your face had that effect on him, always causing him to lose track of where he was, who he was, and what he might say or do. And that familiar smile, it killed him a little. His gaze remained there, lingering for too long, his concealed eyes giving away his thoughts. "Why do you have that look on your face?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity and stepping closer to him.
As you stood before him, the closeness amplified the wave of emotions within him. Joy and disbelief raced through his veins. The fragrance that surrounded you, so hauntingly acquainted, sparked a rush of nostalgia.
Satoru Gojo was born with a specific purpose, a set of perfect eyes, and the weight of his lineage on his shoulders. He was reserved and calculated. When he mastered the Limitless technique, he concluded that infinite solitude was the only way to survive. Because how he could describe the experience of seeing everything, for when you see everything, you see nothing. An excess of color turns into pure black, an infinite void.
Yes, he was born with those six eyes. People never let him forget. But to you, his eyes were simply eyes. He recalled the first time you teased him about them and how his heart caught in his chest because he had never seen someone as vibrant and colorful as you.
It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. The first time he saw you, he felt it. An ache. Like a little electric burn. He felt his life changed.
Gradually, his loneliness began to dissipate. He found a place for himself in this chaotic world. With you, he could laugh, cry, joke around, and even be a brat. It was something no one could genuinely grasp—the feeling of finally being alive as a person. Before you, he felt he hadn't truly existed, merely scattered atoms in an indifferent universe following a predetermined path. But you changed everything. You dismantled and rebuilt him anew. You molded him, nurtured him, and despite him being the strongest, you kept him safe.
Without a noble title or material wealth, you were everything that went against the expectations of the Clan Elders. Yet, you stood faithfully by his side, precisely where he believed you belonged. Or at least, that's what he presumed.
Then, on that fateful day, the day he desperately wished was nothing more than a dreadful nightmare, reality unfolded before him. How could it be real? He stood there, confronted by the lifeless bodies of two Higher Ups and their protectors, with you covered in their blood. It was inconceivable. He couldn't accept that you were responsible for such a gruesome scene. Yet, you showed no remorse. You firmly believed it was the only solution, fed up with their destructive actions that brought ruin upon sorcerers deemed insignificant. You had accepted the notion that a problem without a remedy should be eradicated like an unwelcome weed.
On that day, he considered shaking your shoulders and demanding that you deny it all. He even contemplated going against everyone because what was the fucking point of wielding such power if he couldn't safeguard the woman he loved? The thought of quitting and escaping with you crossed his mind, too. He was willing to sacrifice everything: power, wealth, status, even his own life. However, you didn't desire any of those things.
His friend, Suguru Geto, once posed a question: Was he Satoru Gojo because he was the strongest, or was he the strongest because he was Satoru Gojo? At that time, he had no answer. A 17-year-old couldn't possibly find a response to such a profound question. However, when you entered his life, everything changed. Being the strongest lost its significance. He was just Satoru Gojo, and he was who he was because you loved him. His existence held meaning because you touched his life. He saw because he needed to gaze upon you. He spoke because he longed to hear your voice.
And then, similar to his best friend, after causing a bloodbath, you also walked out of his life. Yet, this time, it wasn't solely loneliness that engulfed him. It felt like one of his lungs had been taken away, and he heavied without you by his side through each passing moment. He became nothing once more. There was a hole in his life where you used to fit perfectly, and no matter what he did to try and fill it, nothing worked.
It was a strange anguish, a pain he never anticipated or conceived of. It consumed him from within, setting him ablaze with a profound emptiness. Then, defying the assumption that someone as formidable as him could experience sorrow, he was burdened with the task of erasing you. It was as if you were deemed nothing more than a blemish, a dishonor.
"What... what look?" he struggled to say, his voice tinged with a desperate yearning. Regret lingered in his tone as his words fell short. With a touch of vulnerability, he shut his eyes beneath the comforting confines of his blindfold, seeking refuge in the veil of darkness. Taking a deep breath, he consciously filled his lungs, using them as an anchor amidst the swirling storm of sensations enveloping him.
"That look," you remarked, your voice carrying a mischievous tone that floated in the atmosphere. "It's as if you don't trust me," you added teasingly. A few playful strands of hair escaped their intended position and delicately framed your face, casting a bewitching allure. An irresistible urge welled within him, compelling him to extend his hand and tuck those strands behind your ear—stupid muscle memory. However, he restrained himself, his hand suspended mid-air, resolute in resisting the magnetic pull of his desires.
"Why did you invite me here?" Satoru voiced, his grip on the doorknob loosening as the impact of reality settled upon him. The initial shock transformed into a lucid understanding. He wasn't oblivious. He knew that you were aware of his assignment to eliminate you. So, why? Was it because you recognized your unstoppable nature? Was it because you had realized that the blackhole existed within you, devouring everything you once held dear unless someone intervened?
"You could have refused to come, yet here you are," you whimsically remarked, a devilish glint in your eyes as you punctuated your words with a wink. You strolled over to the weathered table and set the pocket upon its aged surface.
"Cut it out!" Satoru snapped, his frustration mounting. "You know, I had no idea it was you!" His heart thumped in his chest, urging his feet to move forward, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. A sense of unease gripped him, acknowledging the futility of engaging in a battle he felt ill-prepared to win.
You turned towards him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as your hands stayed concealed behind your back. Leaning against the chair, you arched an eyebrow, your eyes locked on him. "I have a feeling you knew it was me as soon as you arrived at the house," you declared, a jovial tone lacing your words. "After all, I'm the only one capable of concealing my cursed energy from you."
"We both know that I shouldn't be here. I—" Satoru's sentence dissolved, left unfinished, as your hand reached out, bridging the gap between you with a gentle touch. Infinity never worked with you. Even the very essence of the cursed energy recognized that you posed no threat to him. Furthermore, he would gladly provide you with any justification to touch him.
Lost in his reverie, Satoru suddenly became acutely aware of your presence. The magnitude of his longing and the depth of his yearning surged within him. In that instant, he recognized the immense emptiness you had left and how much he had missed you. Emotions swirled together, blending past and present, uncertainty and desire, in a delicate dance that would shape your fates.
"Why are you here, then?" you inquired, and his eyes met yours, reflecting the same yearning that dwelled in his heart. "Tell me, did you come in to kill me?" With a deliberate movement, you folded his fingers, molding them into the shape he would use to unleash his hollow purple. Bringing his hand close to your heart, you held it there. Despite the gravity of the situation, a soft smile adorned your lips.
He couldn't do this.
Taken aback by your unexpected gesture, Satoru swiftly withdrew his hand from your grasp. Anger and heartbreak swirled within him, entwining in a tumultuous storm. The realization hit him like a relentless wave, crashing against the shores of his consciousness. How had you drifted so far apart? When had the divergence between your paths become so profound that he failed to notice? The weight of your choice, to embrace the life of a curse user, to tread a road stained with blood, bore down upon him with a heavy burden. The pain on his face mirrored the fracture within his heart, a sense of loss mingling with a flicker of betrayal.
He wished he could say something. He wished he could start yelling, expressing all the thoughts and desires he had harbored since then—whether shouting, pouring out his heart, or expressing frustration. However, he adhered to the predetermined script you anticipated because he loved you unconditionally, unable to deny you anything.
"I didn't think so," you murmured, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his in a way that effortlessly eroded his resistance.
You tilted his face down, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling his blood with dangerous speed.
One of his hands naturally found its way to the back of your waist, holding you with a gentle yet possessive grasp, while the other securely clasped your arm, pulling you closer.
He felt incredible against you, your bodies fitting perfectly. Nothing ever came easier than kissing you. Every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
In that moment, his eyes, his legacy, his clan's name, and the orders given about you faded away. This was his true purpose.
As your tongues entwined, a surge of electricity coursed through his veins, his body responding to the intoxicating enchantment of your touch. Your fingers traced the outline of his blindfold while others clung to his uniform as if he were your sole fulcrum in a world spinning out of control. Your back arched, and he embraced you tighter, his grip firm yet tender, his long fingers leaving an indelible mark upon your skin.
Breathless, as if you had just completed a marathon, you reluctantly pulled back from the heated exchange. Drawing him nearer, he yielded willingly, allowing you to guide him wherever you desired because wherever you led was where he believed to be his destination.
"Take this off," you beseeched, desperation and sorrow permeating your words as your forefinger lifted his blindfold and let it fall to the floor. His tousled hair cascaded softly over his forehead, unable to hide the azure eyes that had once captivated your heart.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow.
He swallowed, and you shifted your hand to his ear, lightly grazing his earlobe with your pinkie before tracing down his jawline. There was no rejection, yet no clear confirmation either. Your hand brushed against his undercut as you continued.
"There you are," you whispered, your voice laden with kindness. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, a solitary droplet making its way down your cheek as you gently cradled his face in your hands. He looked down at you, counting each tear on your lovely cheeks.
He clasped your hand, kissing your palm before guiding it to rest upon his heart. It was the same foolish heart, steadfastly beating for you, never having faltered. Through teary eyes, you looked at him, and he remained struck by the sheer beauty that not even your tears could diminish.
As your bottom lip quivered beneath his touch, quickly, with a light sweep of his hand, he wiped away the tears that stained your stunning eyes. You missed him too, didn't you? Was it painful for you, too? Silly girl! You couldn't maintain your carefully constructed facades for more than ten minutes when it came to him.
The realization washed over him, dispelling any remaining doubts.
Without a second thought, he effortlessly lifted you, your legs encircling his waist while your hands secured around his neck. Engrossed in a fervent kiss, both of you surrendered to the moment as he clasped your back firmly, pulling you closer to himself, relishing the flavor of your lips.
Letting go wasn't an option when every fiber of his being had missed you.
Determined and resolute, he carried you out to a room he presumed to be the bedroom, even though it didn't matter whether there was a bed or a simple mattress; what mattered was the way your touch kindled a blazing fire within him, and he had no intention of bearing that flame alone.
Keeping you securely nestled in his arms, he forcefully kicked open the door and lowered you onto the welcoming comfort of the bed. The urgency to discard his black jacket left no room for delay. At the same time, your nimble hands deftly undid the buckle of your pants, but before you could remove them entirely, his hands moved with an instinctual hunger, swiftly stripping you of the garment and casting it aside as if propelled by an untamed fervor. The passion between you burned fiercely, filling the room with an all-encompassing energy that eclipsed any other thoughts or worries.
With a quick movement, he discarded his black t-shirt, revealing the well-defined curves of his chest that shimmered with a touch of sweat. His desire was tangible, his lust unmistakable as he straddled between your parted legs, his hands grasping your nape.
The taste of his lips met yours, initiating a sequence of fervent kisses that persisted without pause, each delving deeper than the last. The world around you lost its significance as your breaths synchronized in rhythm, the heat between your bodies escalating.
In the meantime, your hands moved swiftly, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.
As his lips briefly separated from yours, he uttered a whispered confession. "I hate how bad I want you," he admitted, his voice carrying a raw sincerity. However, before you could reply, his attention shifted to your neck, where his teeth gently grazed your sensitive flesh, leaving behind tracks of tantalizing nibbles and passionate kisses.
You couldn't help but release a gasp as pleasure and a twinge of pain electrified your senses, sending delightful shivers coursing down your spine. In the throes of passion, your hand curled into a fistful of his hair, a silent request for more. Call it masochist, but he loved it when you did this. He tenderly pulled at your hair in response, tilting your head back ever so slightly, baring more of your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth.
Then, you did what came naturally to you. With a voice brimming with longing and ecstasy, you spoke his name, "Satoru," the sound slipping from your lips like a hushed prayer.
His actions came to an abrupt pause. His lips separated from your skin, and his grasp on your hair loosened as if a sudden realization had hit him like a splash of icy water. It was ironic how you still possessed this power over him, a power that could both thrill and unsettle him.
The sound of his name on your lips had become something he treasured, and damn it, he had missed hearing it again. Just like every fucking tiny thing he had missed about you.
With a sudden movement, he withdrew his head from the crook of your neck and brought his forehead close to yours. His hands found solace in brushing back strands of your hair with comforting strokes.
He shut his eyes, and in a whisper, his voice carried a hint of fragility, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings. "Say it again," he pleaded, his voice breaking under the pressure of unexpressed sentiments. It was as if that simple word held immense significance, a lifeline to his heart that he desperately craved.
Without hesitation, you took a steadying breath, the name forming on your lips.
"Satoru."
"S-Say it kinder."
"Satoru."
"Say it slower."
"Satoru."
"Say it gentler."
"Satoru."
"Say it louder."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you wanna tell me you miss me."
"Satoru…"
"Say it as if you're annoyed that I eat so many sweets."
"Satoru!"
"Is this why you made the trip to Sendai just to get me those mochis?"
"Say it."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you ever cared, spared a single thought for me."
"SATORU."
"Say it as if when you lied in bed, you remembered something I once said."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if it hurt you too when someone said my name with yours."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if every time a door opened, you too expected me to walk out of it, that every time you cooked, you hummed my favorite songs."
"S-Satoru…"
"Say it as if you need me."
"Satoru."
"Say it again."
"Satoru."
"Again."
"…Satoru."
"Say it as if you want to tell me something important."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you won't stay."
"Toru."
"No. Not like this."
"Satoru?"
"Please."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you're gonna run away again."
"Satoru…"
"Huh. Better. Now say it as if you wanna tell that you slept badly without me, that you only dreamed of me, and in the morning, you woke up exhausted without having any desire to live."
"Satoru."
"You don't have a line, do you? No remorse. No regret. Not even a single thought for the man you left behind like a walking ghost. And you won't ever stop."
"Satoru."
"Once you were gone, they gathered all your belongings as evidence. See this hair tie on my wrist?" He lifted his hand. "This and your sweatshirt, which no longer carries your scent, are the only things I have left. Say it as if you still have that shirt of mine."
"Say it!"
"Sa-to-ru."
"Did you know that I actually thought if I messed myself up, went all self-destructive, and threw a massive tantrum, you'd come back? I mean, why should I bother taking care of myself? That was supposed to be your job, right?"
"Sa…toru."
"Oh, by the way, I completely wrecked that bench on the hill where you used to sit. And then I went ahead and destroyed the whole damn place, then just sat right there amidst the wreckage. I mean, why should I even give a damn when you stopped caring about me? Say it as if you get where I'm coming from."
"Satoru…"
"Yet you know what's funny? Ask me if I still love you like the first day?"
"Satoru?"
"It can't be just me, right? You can't be done with me. Tell me you love me."
"Okay. It's—"
"Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru…"
Everything he thought he knew flew right out the window. He had noticed the tremor in your breath and the shake in your voice, but the desperate murmurs of his name caused his eyes to flutter open. Your face was marked with the faint traces of tears, glistening in the light.
You blinked, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty unlike anything he'd seen before. The ability to convey so much with just a glance caught him entirely off guard.
Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the curve of your cheeks, softly caressing them. Nuzzling his nose against your skin, he lovingly kissed away the salty tears, his tongue delicately brushing your face with a soothing touch. Each tender movement provided a comforting solace during your emotional moment.
As he lovingly attended to your tears, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. He paused, eyes widening in surprise. However, before any words could escape, you leaned in and kissed him. In that single gesture, you conveyed your desires, and he, in turn, found his answer within the depths of that passionate kiss.
As soon as his palms glided over your smooth skin, delicately capturing your erect nipple between his fingers, the bra was tossed somewhere amidst the bedding.
"Lie back," Satoru instructed. He then crawled onto you, your bare chests meeting. He supported himself with his arms on either side of your head to ensure he didn't crush you under his weight.
He positioned himself atop you, overwhelmed by the yearning that had built up in your absence. The thirst to have you beneath him had grown insurmountable. He had craved the sight of your body begging him to take you, the undeniable desire radiating from you.
He locked eyes with you, keeping you in his gaze as he absorbed every aspect of your beauty. The polished planes of your face shimmered with fresh tears, adding a new layer to the bliss. Your eyes were rimmed with redness, solely for him, and this sight rendered him speechless.
Because what if he accidentally stumbled upon the wrong words, and the magic vanished, snatching you away once more, leaving him with nothing but a pumpkin carriage and a single pair of shoes?
He didn't want his arms to be deprived of your warmth. Your touch. Your lips. God, your lips. Your mouth on his neck. Your body wrapped around his. He couldn't bear losing you again, and the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into him.
Blinking his white lashes, he swallowed back the fear building in his throat.
What an irony!
The strongest wasn't fearless.
With his knee between your thighs and his body pressing closer, he realized he was paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in his lungs.
"When we were together, I became you," he stated. "You became the reflection I saw in the mirror, and I liked it more. So, I stopped being myself. It was fine because I had you. But when you left, I lost myself along with you."
"Satoru," you called, your voice soft, so soft. He wasn't unfamiliar with the touch of women, but yours were gentler, yet deadlier than them all. "I'm sorry for bringing us to this point." You drew his form closer. The resonating beats of your heart were audible, pulsing deeply within your chest. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Your words unleashed a tumult of feelings within him. Goddammit. He wasn't lost before he met you, but he found himself after having you, only to get lost more after losing you.
Satoru's tears stung as they fell backward down his throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, and I'll forget everything," he uttered.
And you complied. You kissed him as if swimming through rivers of honey, as if being dipped in pure gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss, and he didn't realize you two were drowning because he was too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing held significance anymore—neither rules, nor the room, nor even the entire fucking Jujutsu society.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This very moment. These lips. This delicate body pressed against his, and these warm hands always discovering new ways to hold his heart.
Oh, My!
He wanted so much more of you. He wanted every part of you. And he kissed you back. Like a mild breeze. Like cherry blossoms. Like a blue spring.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Satoru drew away. It remained a secret, but piecing himself back together hurt just as much as falling apart. It felt like an ache that needed to be soothed.
You were the cure, so his finger lightly grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, curves, and subtle crevices. As he kissed the corner of your eyebrow, he whispered your name. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, causing a slight squirm in your body. He planted a kiss on your neck, just beneath your earlobe, and you tilted your head, inviting him in. Perhaps you resisted the urge to plead for more, for a faster pace.
You used to love this, remember?
His lips moved down the expanse of your neck, delicately tracing the sensitive skin of your collarbones. Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, roaming over his broad shoulders, pressing into his back dimples, and clutching his hips. With a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer, leaving small kisses on his neck, arms, and chest.
It was incredible. Being with you, touching you, having you like this. The adrenaline rush was so powerful and euphoric that it made everything feel within reach.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking.
He pressed his lips against your upper lip.
He ran his tongue along your lower lip.
He planted kisses beneath your chin, on the tip of your nose, along your forehead, temples, and cheeks across your jawline. Then he moved to your neck, behind your ears, and the space between your breasts. Delicately, he nibbled on your sensitive nipples, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly, his chest was hovering above your hips.
As his lips descended towards the hem of your underwear, he lifted his head right before crossing that boundary, locking eyes with you. His gaze carried a mix of intense reverence and a silent question.
You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Your nod conveyed an affirmation, a wordless permission to continue. With your approval, he lowered his head once again. Before you knew it, he skillfully used his teeth to remove that small piece of fabric while the captivating scent drove him wild with desire.
Having removed your panties, his lips continued exploring, leaving heated kisses and lingering caresses from your toes to your thighs. Firmly holding your calves, he parted your legs, creating just enough space for his head to fit between them.
Your thighs were lifted, obscuring him from your sight. All you could see was the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that view vanished as his lips closed around your clit, causing your head to fall back and muffled moans to escape your lips.
Satoru's large hands trailed down and up your exposed upper thighs and ribs, tightly gripping your hips to keep you in place. He delighted in how you squirmed each time his hair brushed against your groin, until his tongue slipped into your hole, and the taste of you made fireworks explode in the back of his head.
With his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue danced and teased, evoking ecstatic cries from your lips. His mouth explored the known territories you had never witnessed, yet he remembered them intimately.
While fully engrossed in eating you, he suddenly and intentionally slipped his middle finger inside, and his mouth fervently sought to suck the soul out of your essence as if seeking retribution for all the times he had jerked off thinking about you creaming around his shaft. That's why he left you on the precipice of climax, working his way up your body. Satoru was never cruel enough to deny you the release you craved, so his fingers remained ready.
With an eagerness to witness the pleasure etched across your face, he slowly ascended your body, his touch kindling a burning anticipation within you. Continuing his exploration, his adept fingers navigated their way to your most intimate region, gently pressing against the delicate entrance.
"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" he whispered, his nose caressing the skin of your stomach, placing sporadic kisses around your breasts and collarbones to alleviate any tension. His disheveled hair and moist lips were evidence of the indulgence in your sweet taste.
"Take it easy— ahhh!"
He wore a satisfied smile as two of his large fingers effortlessly slid into your slit. Your nails dug into the sheets, whimpers escaping your lips as his hand rhythmically moved up and down within your tight walls.
Your mouth opened in a soundless moan, and he peppered you with kisses all around. Tears glistened in your eyes, and tiny strands of hair clung to your sweaty forehead. When his thumb rubbed, and the fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You firmly grasped his free arm and tugged him towards you, bringing him closer until he was on top of you. You might have turned into a cold-blooded curse user, left dead bodies behind, or broken his heart apart, but you were still the same girl beneath him. The girl who would laugh with joy and steal his treats. The girl who would fiercely fight by his side and protect him. The girl who would easily surrender and moan in his ear.
He pressed his lips against yours, a reminder of the residual sweetness on his tongue. Just like in the old days, a soft moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt your own taste. If this gesture could convince you to stay with him, why not revel in it? He willingly opened his lips, inviting you to delve deeper, your tongues intertwining and brushing against his teeth.
The stinging bitterness of the past was long gone. He had forgotten everything. Although there was something he knew he shouldn't forget, he couldn't recall why or what it was. With his hard length suffering in his boxers and his digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
Seeing your desperation for his touch proved to be his downfall. He could die from this, he decided. From wanting you, from the pleasure of being with you.
He wore a smile as you locked eyes and reciprocated with your smile. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin flushed with heat. With his other hand, he held your head steady while your hands clutched his neck, your palms gliding over the area just above his neckline, and your fingertips tenaciously pressing against his undercut.
"Sato..." you managed to utter, your voice quivering with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, consuming your senses. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body, inducing uncontrollable tremors. Amidst your release, a single tear broke free, tracing a glistening path down your cheek, much like the cascade of emotions that flowed within you.
While he remained atop you, his voice reached your ears, his lips near your earlobe. "Can you sit up?" he whispered, burying his face in the curve of your neck, allowing your ragged breaths to brush against his shoulder.
Still struggling to catch your breath, you managed to mumble, "Yeah, but..." However, before you could complete your sentence, the bedding beneath you shifted as Satoru pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight.
He exhaled and looked at you, but this time, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things he had never told you. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a fraying thread—you.
He touched your flushed cheeks as if uncertain of your tangible presence. His four fingers caressed the side of your face with tenderness before sliding behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
He pondered the countless things your lips had done. They had touched, kissed, and pressed against sensitive areas of his skin. They had spoken lies and made promises, and the words they had formed, the shapes and sounds they had shaped, he yearned for them all.
Satoru inched closer, cradling you like you were made of precious crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands as if he couldn't believe you were real and truly there.
"I'm right here, baby. Look at me," you whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them.
All six of his eyes obeyed and stared at you. Gone was the curse user targeting Higher Ups. This woman before him had never done anything wrong. You were perfect and kind, untouched by the horrors of death.
He took hold of your hands and pressed your palms against his face, reclaiming the tears you had bestowed upon him. With an eternity of love, he whispered your name in the softest of whispers.
What if this was a dream?
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
He shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and you embraced him like no one had before. Overwhelmed by the intensity, he struggled to contain himself, but seeing you cling to him as you might never let go stirred something within him. It was a heady sensation, knowing that you were there, caring for him, desiring him, needing him in this way. It made him believe that this was indeed real.
Gently, you stroked his silvery locks of hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Gradually, your arms became the arms around his neck; your lips became the lips pressed against his, your body the warmth he felt. Funny how the moment he felt your touch, it burned a hole right through his head and pulled all his thoughts out.
He wasn't even breathing, but he was alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. His hands fervently caressed the small of your back as he lifted you onto his lap, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips.
Then, it was your turn to reciprocate. You planted kisses all over him—his cheeks, eyelids, chin, the tip of his nose, and the space between his eyebrows. You trailed along his forehead and traced his jawline, covering every inch of his face. These kisses conveyed more than words ever could.
And you took your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he let out a gasp. It was a moment to relish. Your tongue continued to worship the hills and valleys of his well-defined arms, tracing the graceful curves of his collarbones. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, you savored his taste. Your hands explored his abs, tracing along his navel and the delicate trails of hair beneath.
He broke apart with your small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at you dumbfounded. His mind remained hazy, unable to fully comprehend how your fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Tilting your head to a side, you pressed your lips against his again, seeking him with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. Your other hand threaded in his hair, your lips so soft, so urgent against his, like fire and cinnamon exploding in his mouth.
Satoru nibbled your bottom lip in a flash before pulling back slightly. You were flooding his body with so much heat and desire. You parted your lips to sigh in his mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove him to the edge of madness.
Just as he was about to bring his mouth to your nipples, your hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and encircled his erectness pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
He clenched his teeth, suppressing a groan. Oh God! He had fucking missed you holding his member in your palm. But you didn't stop at that. He gasped as you began to rub the tip with your thumb. His body ached everywhere as he tasted the colors and sounds that existed nowhere else. Your forehead rested against his chin as you continued to stroke his hardness up and down beneath his boxers. You were untamed, cruel, yet remarkably gentle.
"Take it off, Satoru," you whispered in his ear, your breath ragged. "I want you in me. Deep. Right. Now. Please."
He was beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way he was feeling right now. He was left with only this very moment: You on his lap, your warmth against his hands, and your lustful eyes fixed upon him, making him absolutely insane.
Satoru held onto your waist with a firm grip, lifting you slightly, and in the blink of an eye, his briefs glided down his long legs until their whereabouts became irrelevant in the heat of the moment.
The wetness between your thighs was no longer a hidden secret, just as his hardness was revealed when you surrounded each other everywhere.
He watched as you reached down and guided his erection against your slippery entrance, making a few strokes to ensure the perfect alignment. His racing pulse could probably be felt in your palm and soon inside you.
Using both hands, he gripped your hips and pulled you downward, drawing you closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, always surprised about his size. He intended to allow you time to adjust, but you fervently clung to his neck, hitching your legs around his waist, urging him to penetrate you completely. A scream escaped your lips as you bit into his shoulder blade, but he remained composed, relishing the sensation of stretching you. He cherished the feeling of your inner walls squeezing him and the weight of your body against his balls. To be honest, he would stay like this forever.
Feeling your readiness, his hold tightened, and he started moving your body up and down. You cried out as you nestled your cheek into the curve of his neck, and he felt like dying and somehow being brought back to life in the exact moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He raised your thighs, stifling a groan that threatened to rip his throat as your lips met his. It left him bewildered, pondering why he hadn't perished, burst into flames, or snapped in half.
The room was consumed by silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breaths. Your chests pressed against each other, colliding with the rhythm of your pulses.
As he sensed your arms tightening around him, he reciprocated with heightened strength, lifting and thrusting you with an intensity that transcended the bounds of restraint. Each movement struck the place he knew too well.
His teeth captured your bottom lip, eliciting a momentary jolt of pleasure. Your nails pressed into his shoulder as his fingers ran through your hair, pulling you nearer, immersing you in the fervent abyss of his mouth. The taste of you was a captivating fusion of sweetness and passion, an intoxicating blend that left both of you craving for more.
He kept trying to say your name, but he found himself unable even to catch his breath, let alone speak a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down and traveling quietly down your cheeks. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, touching your tongue and the saliva within. It was as if he had discovered an oasis in the vast expanse of a desert, gazing at you with eyes ablaze like fire reflected in water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile and uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lasting essence of pleasure in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your heads spun into a blissful oblivion.
Your head rested against his, and as you delicately nipped at his earlobe, he felt stripped down to his very core, just as he had unraveled you from within. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Something inside him melted. Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You belonged to him. You didn't erase the pain you had caused. You didn't fix everything you'd broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. All he needed was you, and with you, everything would be alright.
He firmly grasped your buttocks, burying his face against your shoulder as he sped up. He was shattered to pieces, but with you, he got put back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. Gritting his teeth, he succumbed to the impending climax. His hands glided along your back as you shuddered, your inner walls pulsating around him so hard that he couldn't hold back his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice, until everything around you both turned to a world of vibrant colors and radiant light, where the sun shone, oceans sparkled, and Sakura trees bloomed.
*
Both of you were lying on a pillow, breathless and sweaty. Satoru's face was buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand had delicately weaved its way into his hair, fingers stroking the silky strands as you both sought to ground yourself in the aftermath of your orgasms.
You rested your cheek against his head, your voice carrying a hint of breathlessness as you began to speak. "How is Shoko doing?
"She's probably smoking even more now," he murmured, his lips grazing against your shoulder as he pulled you closer. Despite the physical closeness, a deep ache echoed within him, yearning for an even deeper connection that felt just beyond his grasp. The desire to merge both body and soul, to be completely intertwined with you, was tangible in his touch.
His arms tightened around you as if attempting to bridge an unseen gap that couldn't be seen, but he could feel it. Each hug and touch was an attempt to mend the distance that pained him. The depth of his need reverberated through his being. It was visible in the depths of his eyes. It sucked to be this close yet feel so far from someone. But he didn't want to worry. As long as you were together, he believed nothing terrible could happen.
"Why probably so?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you turned your head towards him. Your lips touched his soft, silky white hair. "Is it because of the numerous missions you're taking?"
"You seem to know every detail of my life," he remarked, turning his head towards you, the closeness so intimate that your noses nearly touched. His hand found its way to your arm, his finger tracing a path down its length, lost in contemplation.
"I've always kept tabs on you. I'm not even ashamed of it," you declared, your attention fixed on his ocean-blue eyes.
He let out a shaky sigh. "There's no longer a reason for me to stay in Tokyo like I used to," he whispered, his voice hinting at wistfulness. The words floated in the air, pregnant with unspoken meanings. As he locked eyes with you, his gaze transformed into a sea of emotions, reflecting a profound depth of feelings that transcended mere words.
"What about your students?"
"They're doing well even without me," Satoru said, his voice filled with fondness and melancholy. As his hand gracefully slid into your hair, he tucked back the strands that obscured your face, revealing the beauty of your features.
His thumb stroked your cheek in a soothing gesture. "Megumi came close to expanding his domain," Satoru continued, his voice filled with a hint of excitement. "Yuji would be thrilled to—"
"No, Satoru!" you interjected, your voice resolute. Your firm interruption halted his sentence as your face displayed a frown, your eyebrows furrowing with determination. "The answer is no!"
Satoru's hand dropped weakly onto the sheets, his fingers losing their previous touch. When his gaze met yours, a deep sadness flooded his eyes, turning the serene ocean within them into a turbulent storm.
He struggled to find the right words to make his case but couldn't resist trying to reason with you. "Come back with me. I have enough power and privilege to protect you—"
"I don't want your protection!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a sharp edge that cut through his being. The words resounded with a harshness reminiscent of the day you decided to leave, which had left an indelible mark on both of you. It was a day that Satoru had always blamed himself for, haunted by the belief that he had failed to notice you drifting away.
His eyes, filled with sorrow, locked onto yours, silently begging for understanding as he summoned the bravery to express his deepest desires. "Don't you want a life with me?" he questioned, his voice brimming with the dreams and aspirations he had envisioned for both of you. "What about living in a house with blue shutters, windows overlooking the ocean, and—"
"How are you still such a wide-eyed, dreamy little boy, Satoru?" you remarked, your voice tinged with tenderness and sadness. As you spoke, your hand extended, interlocking your fingers with his. "Stop living in a fantasy world," you urged. The words pleaded for him to accept reality and let go of dreams no longer aligned with his chosen path. "Even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't want to," you continued. "The Jujutsu society is a broken bone that won't set right, and no matter how much you try to mend it, it won't work. I started hunting Higher Ups because I have a purpose. I can't be by your side."
As you raised your head, a glimmer of compassion and understanding shimmered in your eyes. The pain etched on Satoru's face was evident to you. In a gentle tone, you encouraged him, saying, "We've made different choices. Don't judge me because I never questioned why you didn't follow me. Our approaches may differ, but we share the same dream of creating a better world. So, I don't regret leaving, but if there's anything I regret, it's not cherishing every moment I had with you. But I'm doing it right this time. I'm memorizing every detail, so I have something to hold onto."
Your words bounced around in the fog of his head, blurring his senses, misting his eyes, and muddling his logic. In his bones, there was just ice. His entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped him in the face, punched him in the jaw, and dumped him into the ocean.
Until today, he thought he had fully come to terms with everything. He believed he had adapted to living with your absence, like a disabled person learning to avoid putting weight on his injured leg. However, deep down, he knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble.
But with your answer, stacks of sorrow grew inside him, settling on his bones as if a cable had twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
He realized how foolish he had been to believe he could simply blend in and lead an ordinary life.
Satoru.
Satoru Gojo.
Satoru Gojo, The Strongest.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification.
He shook his head, coughing as his lungs were tormented, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission. His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. With clenched fists, he fought against the misery, forcing it back down. Not again. Not again. Not again.
"Satoru?" you called out to him, and a thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. Realizing how deeply he loved you kept hitting him in the face, the skull, and the spine. He ran a hand across his face and through his hair, displaying signs of wanting to scream, to break something, as if he was on the verge of losing his sanity.
You hugged him, bridging the gap between your bodies and leaning your cheek against his rock-hard chest. Your hands caressed his stomach as your lips left random pecks here and there.
"It's not just your shirt that I have," you expressed. "I also have our shared blanket from our room and a collection of photographs I'm too afraid to look at. I fear that if I see them, I'll go right back to you and beg your forgiveness."
You dropped a kiss on his chin. Then, on the curve of his shoulder and his shoulder blades. Five kisses down his throat, each softer than the last. You kissed his cheeks, hands, and eyelids for every moment of loneliness he had ever endured.
You continued, "My body hasn't realized we are no longer together. It calls out for you at night, unaccustomed to not having you tightly enveloping me like a second layer of skin."
He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "Why are you putting me through this?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "Why are you scratching my wounds?"
"Because I want to remake you again, Satoru. You should get broken apart and rebuild in a way that won't cause you pain anymore." You kissed the hand covering his mouth, not holding back. Keeping your head there, you leaned against his heart.
"It's not as straightforward as a simple yes or no," you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. "Let's just enjoy this moment together..."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with sadness.
He shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes open, jaw clenched tightly, and muscles tense. Breathing heavily, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful.
You lifted your head and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Love is the most twisted curse," you murmured as you tilted his chin toward your mouth. He blinked rapidly. Words were whispered upon his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "And we are the most cursed of all, aren't we?" you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him again. Tenderly.
Unable to find the right words, he relied on the language of touch, pressing his lips against yours. A sigh escaped into your shared kiss, and you responded by kissing him even more passionately, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. The taste of salt lingered on your tongues. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made his flesh burn. Unsure of whose tears they were, he continued to cling to you, even if it was almost for the final time.
The saddest world in this whole wide world was "almost." You almost came back to him. He almost had you. You two almost made it.
*
You woke up with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping your skin, remnants of the memories from the previous night. The room was filled with a fresh ambiance, hinted at by the open window that welcomed a gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, evidence of the rain that had visited during the night.
Letting out a sigh, you brushed your face against the pillow. Your hand instinctively reached out to where Satoru was supposed to be, but a pang of emptiness washed over you. He wasn't there, and your eyes flew open, a sourness clouding their once-serene gaze. Something felt wrong.
Suddenly, sitting up, a sense of panic pulsed through your veins. The realization dawned upon you—Satoru had left the bed, and his absence spoke volumes. Your glance darted around the room, searching for any signs of his presence, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
An agonizing grip took hold of your heart. Conflicting emotions wrestled inside you. You had voiced your decision to part ways, to not be by his side, yet the depth of your desire for him remained steadfast. The pain and the desperate desire for his warmth was a stark reminder that not wanting to be with him didn't mean you were prepared to let go of him completely.
The bitter yet undeniable truth surfaced: as much as you and Satoru were meant to be, fate had not deemed you to last.
You could still feel the lasting presence of Satoru's cursed energy, an invisible thread you could identify even blind. Simply by scent, you would recognize it. It was a power that transcends physical senses, one that would recognize it in death, at the end of the world.
You swiftly snatched your robe and hastened out of the room. And there he was, Satoru, fully dressed, his blindfold tightly secured, sitting still in a chair, facing the untouched mochis. The hair tie was also on the table, indicating that he had removed it from his wrist. You couldn't determine whether it hurt you deeply to see him letting go of a part of you or noticing that he had left his beloved treats untouched.
He wasn't looking at you, so you had time to observe things you hadn't noticed yesterday. He had visibly lost weight. His hair showed signs of splitting and thinning, probably due to stress. Nightmares didn't let him sleep. His uniform appeared wrinkled, and his breaths were unsteady. You knew it wasn't your place to worry about him anymore, but you couldn't help it. Taking care of him had become a habit. He appeared weary, displaying the same profound exhaustion you experienced, filling you with fear.
His shoulders quivered up and down, and you could tell he was crying even though he was silent as a corpse. Your heart quickened as you approached him. With trembling hands, you reached for his blindfold, a desperate attempt because, goddammit, you fucking loved his eyes.
"What are you—" you started to inquire, your voice fading as you recognized that your touch couldn't reach him. He had activated his Infinity. Manually. Deliberately. A wave of profound sadness washed over you, tears welling up in your eyes, yet you swallowed them back, resolved to keep your composure. Your hand hung suspended, mere inches away from him, a symbol of the unbridgeable gap that had grown between you.
Then, in a sudden movement, Satoru stood before you, donning a black jacket that draped his figure. His voice emerged raspy, filled with a raw intensity that conveyed the turmoil within his heart.
"I can't handle this anymore. I can't continue being whatever I am to you," he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of resignation. The understanding that the current situation was no longer viable had taken hold of him. "If you want things to remain this way, I can't ignore the fact that we are enemies at the end of the day." He subtly avoided meeting your gaze, averting his eyes from your messy hair and the persistent sadness in your eyes.
"Can you honestly believe that?" you questioned, your voice brimming with incredulity. You took a step forward, narrowing the physical gap between you. It was essential for him to grasp the magnitude of your anguish and directly witness the toll your choice inflicted upon your heart.
Satoru took a step back, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold that veiled his eyes. "It doesn't matter what I believe," he declared.
Despite the barrier that prevented physical touch, you closed your eyes, driven by the overwhelming desire to bridge the divide. Ignoring the protective shield of his Infinity, you leaned in, your lips seeking his in a desperate act of defiance. Tears streamed down your closed eyes as he relinquished the barrier that kept you apart. You pressed your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to respond, to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his hand while his other embraced you tightly. He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy.
You held each other tightly, his arms enveloping you as his fingers intertwined with your hair. In that stolen moment, you caught a glimpse of the life you longed for—a life filled with love. Having this every day was within reach, but the harsh reality of the jujutsu world loomed, casting a shadow over your fragile dreams. The awareness that he would be exploited until his final breath burdened you deeply. Unable to witness his suffering, you knew you couldn't change your decisions. You had to reset this Jujutsu World. For him. For his students. For the happiness you owed yourself.
As your lips reluctantly separated, a bittersweet trace of saliva remained between you. Satoru gripped your shoulders, and as you glanced up, you noticed his blindfold was damp, indicating the tears he had shed.
You lowered your head. "I wish you had never crossed paths with me," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground until he reached out and lifted your chin.
"I wouldn't take that chance. Not in a million infinities. Because there was love, even if it didn't change anything, even if it made the pain worse, love was there," he said, staring at your mouth. "I'll love you in this life. I'll love you in death and in whatever lies after. And likely even beyond that," he whispered. The words did something to you. They burned something inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "No matter what, I'll always love you," he declared, and pain filled your veins. You could feel it in your blood.
"Satoru," you whispered. Your eyes fogged up, but you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. You couldn't let a second of this be blurry. You couldn't afford to allow any of this to slip away. His absence felt like a missing limb, and his longing for you was a bullet in the head. How could he still love you? How could he find relief in your touch?
"But if we meet again," he said, his thumb brushing against your earlobe. "Just kill me. Because I'll be forced to kill you, and it's the same thing." As if the longer he held you, the more he would want you, he let go of you.
The enormity of his duty and the unyielding constraints of the jujutsu world, forcing him to make an unbearable choice, hit you like a cold gust of wind, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. The chill of that moment seeped into your bones, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had felt this same frigid loneliness when you had left him behind.
Satoru walked towards the door, each step carrying the finality of his decision that settled upon the room. Pausing at the threshold, a silent plea lingered in his words. "So, please, I beg you to stay away from me." With those words, he severed the last thread that had linked you, leaving you with a deep sense of loss.
The door closed behind him, leaving you in an empty and heavy space with unspoken regret. You were alone again, bereft without him, half dead without him. You opened your mouth and screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately so that you could escape this feeling.
No one ever warned you how men with such pretty eyes, who smelled like vanilla, tasted like rain, and talked like silver, were the reason behind tear-soaked pillows, half-finished poems, and so many sad dreams.
One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.
It seemed like Satoru Gojo's story had peaked, and anything that followed wouldn't hold the same significance to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you. For some reason, he never thought there would be an after you. But there was, and he was in it. He would be in it forever.
Moving forward, he silently implored his bones to remain firm, to support him for the remainder of the day and beyond. He ventured through the forest, his steps disturbing the mud and leaves as his footprints gradually faded away until there was nothing but the empty silence of a long, lonely dusk.
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Tag list: @istanuwow @anime-lover1234 @rentaldarling @enchantedforest-network
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 Disclaimers:
This creation draws significant inspiration from the incredible artistry of @animaybi (TikTok) and features quotes from the captivating writings of @starlightonthewaves (TikTok). Both of these talented artists deserve immense praise for their remarkable contributions.
Art is created by me.
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Are you cursing me for writing this? :D
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queenendless · 7 months
Text
🔞 Specialz (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)🔞
A/N: Yeah ... I might be writing more Shibuya inspired smut than I thought. KINDA canon divergence cause in this AU Gojo can heal others too so sorry for the confusion, BIG TIME!
LONG ASS FIC, OVER 7K LONG, MY LONGEST ONE YET OH LORD! ALL FOR THESE TWO SO THERE!
⚠️ CW WARNING ⚠️ NSFW CONTENT! Porn with long ass plot, murder/bloodshed, somewhat feral Gojo, sorta exhibitionism/definite vouyerism, choking kink, tentacle action, deepthroat fuck, breeding/claiming kinks, unprotected sex, clit play, creampie, p in a and v, double p in v, nicknames/pet names, some dirty talk, praise talk, GoGe simping, horny SatoSugu x reader in already established polyamorous MMF relationship. This smut piece is gonna be as horny as I can make it. SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy.
Credit to anaemicc on Wattpad for the new smut terminology Imma gonna use as reference help when writing 🔞 content from now on.
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The setting is Shibuya on Halloween night. Crimson tainting the skies, the cityscape, your thighs ... The AU where Geto is alive, he and Gojo are secret lovers, and are yours, banging you for the entire city to see amiss the chaos that unfolds ...
"Hey you." The sudden warped appearance of you alarmed Jogo, peeved off Choso and stirred up Gojo's sudden carnal longing. "You're wanted elsewhere. So," Your unsure drawl was cut off by Choso's poisonous blood shots narrowly scraping you, swirling through the air, as bodies got caught in the crossfire dropping by the hat. "Eyes on me."
Though that made it hard to divide your attention as you felt so turned on by the gleeful smiling face of one Satoru Gojo that ripped that special grade's veiny arm clean off right between his legs so provocatively.
"Oya oya~" Gojo's eyes widened at the sight of your lithe self; foolishly valiant in the face of death. "I felt you coming a mile away, sweetie~ Sliding in after me, alright~"
"Less innuendo, more exorcizing!" Your cursed energy pushed as many normes outta the way as you could to leave you more room to work to draw that Death Painting in.
Stopping use of his Limitless technique, Gojo gave up on adjusting his technique and focused on compact attacks using curse energy manipulation, operating with only basic cursed energy manipulation and martial arts.
Unable to use Domain Amplification and their Innate Techniques at the same time, Volcano – Jogo – safely uses the former to protect himself unlike Hanami – Weeds.
Foolishly dropping their Domain Amplification just to use their vines to strike at you two compelled you to force push the panicking crowd afar, barely swerving out of range. You're left breathless at a crazed smiling Gojo spinning like a starfish through those vines, eerily giddy as he ripped out those rooted eyes, feeling weak in the knees at imagining Toru asking your greatest weak spot with that look, in that tone…
Your distracted self sensed too late as you were caught in iron, lean arms, eyes glowing dangerously and narrowed possessively.
"Careful, babe~ You want to get hurt that bad, huh~?" The low, dark tone he took with you as his barrier shield you two from the poisoned blood shed coating it, scoffing under his breath. "Where the fuck is he?"
The lights flickered as Volcano and Weeds tried their Amplification fists once more, spurring Gojo to maintain his technique the more they tried neutralizing it.
"Just be careful …" Gojo sounded so far off, trained onto those special grades, reluctantly releasing you. Now was not the time for further discussion. The plan had to keep going, as should you. "Now."
Barely a moment of you warping out of Limitless, did Choso's hands teeming with cursed energy etched straight close to your glowing eyed face. Just where you wanted him.
You sensed another familiar presence down the other end of the tunnel behind him as your cursed energy wave knocked him back enough in the right spot.
"About time." Gojo smacked his tongue under his breath, smirking regardless, relieved at sensing him as well, of course.
"Prison Realm … gate open."
Tentacles slithered out from the shadows beneath Choso's feet, summoned to immobilize him with their tensile grip, just enough time for the gate to unravel in its bleedy X shape. Just as your cursed punch socked him in the face for good measure.
"Nice right hook, honey~" Suguru's rich airy voice was all you could make out to be him since the lights flickered once again.
Choso's lack of combat experience paired with the task of not causing too much carnage did not make things easier. For every limb Choso erodes away from his cursed bloody touch, ten more take their place. The exploding sprays of piercing blood struck down many lingering fools still unable to see the full picture.
"I'm sorry I can't save everyone. So I promise to exorcise them instead!" Both thoughts raced through yours and Gojo's mind.
Your cursed energized back kick whipped Choso's head sideways, earning a low whistle from Geto. For a human spirit hybrid, Choso could take it. You still felt somewhat bad inside for it, though.
Goosebumps immediately raked up your skin at the sight of how easily Gojo crushed the weakened asparagus between his Limitless and the wall.
Volcano's threat to burn them both alive didn't deter Gojo nor Geto in the slightest.
Just as darkness overtook everything one second, light flickered back on in the next.
Hanami's purple blood splattered the crater dented wall; steam and ash wafted off it, leaving Jogo shitting himself.
"Next one."
God, you got wet hard at that moment, blushing something fierce, wanting Satoru looking at you like that.
One minute was up.
The tentacles vanished in place of the cube latching onto Choso, jutting out of him from various points.
"Good night, Choso Kamo. You are spared … this time. Prison Realm, close." With all cursed energy drained, Choso was swallowed right in, the Prison changing from a red fleshy cube with various open eyes to a solid stone closed eyes cube once more, slamming into the floor with sheer force, and Geto looking down at it with disgust. "His desire to avenge his younger brothers' deaths by Itadori-kun's hands means he won't kill himself trapped inside this until he's freed to see his goal through … still though … wasting my efforts on this hybrid monkey. What a joke."
Geto noticing your attention elsewhere, eyes glowing that cursed blue, floating up onto the platform, alarming those frightened monkeys away as you were lost in your future vision. "None of them deserve my cursed gift the way you do."
"Fuck." Gojo's eerily calm voice barely hid his excitement at how breathtaking you look among the carnage littered ground, twistedly smiling at a fleeing Jogo, "The sooner I exorcise you, the sooner I can pound my angel to oblivion."
Magnetically latching his heels on the metal border and levitating himself upright, he used Limitless to halt thrown humans his way by Jogo as cover. If too many lives were lost here, then there'd be no reason for Gojo to hold back anymore. Jogo was itching too close to you to his liking.
Sooner than scheduled —
"An eight-car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line. Please do not lean on the platform doors or reach your hands or face past them." The announcement came on, followed by the rocking screeching sight of the eight train cars hailing from Meiji Shrine.
Lost in the sea of costumed people running for their believed way out of this mayhem, appalled gasps stirred the crowd bustling around the opening train doors as panic and disgust raced through Jogo at the eight car train filled with gutted, bleeding, dead transfigured humans falling out. And no Patchface in sight.
"Mahito – GRK!" Garbling Jogo got grabbed by the neck in his lapse of focus, slammed into the floor, leaving a crater sized dent in the wake.
"Hands off my woman." Gojo hissed venomously.
"That all went faster than expected." After spraying himself insistently to get rid of the monkey stench, Geto picked up the cube and slipped into the back of the station amidst the chaos.
The root covered exit crumpled apart with Hanami now exorcised, causing dozens upon hundreds of people to fall in. Gojo growled, suspecting more cursed spirits or users are above too.
"I'm on it!" Brazenly catching as many falling normies through the caving ceiling as you could brought faint smiles to both their faces.
Looking back to lock eyes with Satoru once more, Suguru slid the cube to him along the floor, his nihilistic smile being the last thing Gojo saw before warping away himself.
Just as three swift blurs came straight outta the train door, helping you catch every other falling figure, bouncing off the debris chunks like springs alongside you.
Recognizing their cursed energy presences, Gojo cackled with mad glee.
"Game over." Slamming Jogo hard enough into the ground, blue flames licked the air as they enveloped Jogo whole. "I win."
Eroding to ashes, Gojo's form sagged down in relief as the fear felt in the room washed away by confusion and relief. Spotting Yuji and Mei instructing the masses left standing to leave via the stairways as Ui stands proudly by his very much older sister's side, including that the proper authorities would tend to them outside. Scooping up the cube, he floated back up to even level.
"Gojo-sensei!" Yuji's cheeriness lightened the bloody setting, running over.
"The veils have all been lifted. Which made exorcizing the special grade responsible for the transfigured humans attainable. Itadori-kun made sure of that." Mei informed him, making Yuji blush from the praise. "Y/n-chan's seer intel was spot on. Truly a valuable asset~" Mei Mei praised you as well.
"I expect nothing less from her~" Gojo's senses – coming down from his looney high – sensed your presence having teleported farther up. On the highest floor. Oh, sweetie, why?
"Hey! Thank Nee-sama for her compliments, you tall oaf!" Ui bristled up.
"So, Gojo-kun, you owe me for today. Cause I'm guessing … Geto-kun will no longer be helping out around here?" Her coy smile paired with that velvety threat didn't deter Gojo facially. But left Yuji as the dumbfounded cutie at the moment.
"Hmm." Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he meddled with it. "Well, with the veils dropped, I'm finally able to make a hefty deposit in your account." The ping on Mei's own phone plus the wide ass smile on her laughing face spoke volumes. "Yuki and Yuta will be stopping by soon. When they do, hand them this." Airily stating, Gojo tossed the cube for Mei to catch, who recognized it right away. "She has her own plans for that hybrid pup, anyway, so …"
Mei hummed pleased with the conspiratory talk, accepting the curse wrapped cube. "The Prison Realm huh? What are you all up to, I wonder?" He didn't look up for further discussion on the topic. She could keep her lips sealed, for however long she gets paid big at least. "Very well. Thank you for the extra pay, Gojo-kun~"
Seeing his student praying on the sidelines for the human lives lost tonight made melancholy stir within him. "Yuji." Grabbing his attention, ruffling his pink hair affectionately, Gojo's endearing smile had Yuji blushing. "Great work."
"Sensei …" Blinking back tears, brushing them away with his sleeve, Yuji nodded firmly. Mahito was exorcised. The lives lost because of him – Junpei – were at last avenged. "I didn't lose this time."
"Good. I'll leave the rest of the cursed spirit clean up to you all … unless the end of the world comes crashing down on us, that is. If not, I'll see you back at campus tomorrow, my precious pupil~" He chuckled as he ruffled Yuji's hair once more. "Until then, gotta jet~!"
His two finger salute and bright smile was the last sight those three saw before teleporting.
Joining his special two souls awaiting him uptop, sky high.
❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞
Two badasses with God complexes.
Conflicting ideals.
Enemies on paper.
But partners nonetheless.
Quelling this near nationwide disaster by a fragile truce to team up and take down those special grades.
All because of you; your cursed Seer self.
Many lives were still lost.
But better that than tipping the scales into full blown chaos.
A pounding headache, for instance. Which made warping that much harder on your head and neck, to be honest. Wobbly walking, vision blurry, now blinding as the Shibuya night lights sparkled through the glass stained border walls of the observatory deck, draping an arm across your stinging eyes as your other hand leaned on the wall for support.
"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Gojo's slow horror slasher walk upon you was twice as nerve wracking as watching it unfold on Volcano head. That plus sexy. "Nearly getting yourself killed. Butting in when I could handle it all myself. Then trying to slip out?" He sighed heavily, vibrant eyes narrowed like a predator. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"Correction." The nihilistic smiling presence of Geto walking out of the shadows behind one of the few supporting metal pillars had your heart jolting in anxious excitement. "What are we gonna to do to you?"
Your hand slipped as your knees buckled, going limp, as your world view tilted, when Satoru caught you from behind, gently helping you sit down; to both their concern and relief.
"Hey hey, easy." Satoru gently laid your head in his lap as he sat Indian-style against the wall, brushing aside your hair strands tickling your face, his fingers massaging your cranium and scalp. "You pushed yourself hard tonight, sweetie."
"For weeks, actually. Just take slow calm breaths." Pulling your legs gently to straddle his hips as he sat curled up before you two, Suguru massaged your thighs, eyeing you with such prideful devotion. "You did great, honey."
Satoru hummed in agreement. "We're so proud of you~"
"Don't mention it." You went limp in their grasp, desiring to stay this way in your own share of Infinity.
"Still though," Satoru's shaky tone made your breath hitch at that same feral edge from before return; gaping to his sinuous intentions. "After the hell we went through tonight … I just want to take you here and now and make you a mess myself~"
"He's not the only one~" Suguru's own supine gaze had your chest tighten in nervous anticipation. "After all the hassle we were put through tonight, we deserve our own reward. Sparing those monkeys required such restraint on my part, after all. You already understand what we seek the most now."
You squirmed, clasping your hands together in a praying plea. "GoGe foreplay first … please~?"
Suguru snorted, slyly smirking at you, holding your hands in his giant sculpted ones, smooching your knuckles. "Hmm, should we give the lovely lady what she wants, Satoru~?"
Satoru sighed heavily, smiling smugly, dipping down to kiss your forehead. "At this point, why not~? Besides," Roughly grabbing him by the bun, Satoru yanked him forward hard enough to clash sloppy smooches with. "I've missed my Suguru~"
You shifted between their two leaning bodies, eyeballing as Satoru's other hand clutched and squeezed Suguru's neck; veins flexing out on said hand and neck. Drool slipped down the corner of Geto's mouth, raspy grunts leaving his rosy flush face, as their velvet slobbering tongue duel dragged on. It was quite enticing to your GoGe starved eyes. "Hah, I see this still gets you going~ Depraved of my suffocating touch crushing you~" Gojo playfully taunted.
Geto husked out some dry laughs, "You crave it too~ Breaking me in, like the raunchy bastard I can see coming out of you~!"
A welt of anger pulsed the side of Gojo's head, startling you as he shifted his weight against Geto's, quickly slamming him against the glass wall beside you by the neck, "How's this for you then~?"
"Hah~! Perfect~!" Geto's raspy laugh was cut off as Gojo devoured his wet mouth whole, their deep groans of lust slipping out between every parting of their lips, drool connecting their tongues as their heaving mouths were so close to each other. Eyes half lidded with smoldering fixation on each other atop such heightened emotions looked to be borderline dangerous. "Tell me, Satoru~ Do you still miss this~?"
From the inky shadows Geto summoned, the tentacles returned, wrapping around Gojo's wrists to free Geto and let him breathe; red prints left on his thick veiny neck, gleefully smiling as the snowy haired man fell to his knees with his hands restrained behind his back. As more tendrils helped undo his gold colored kasaya garment, his black yukata robes came next as the skin of his broad upper body was revealed; damn muscles. The sash now untied, his length was freed, flapping against Gojo's curling lips.
"Getting impatient, aren't we Suguru~?"
"You are too, smart ass~"
"Mmh, you're not wrong~" Missing that taste he always relishes, Gojo hummed as he took Geto all in one go, slathering that pulsing dick with as much fervor as the starving beast coming out inside him that needed sustenance.
"Aah fuck~! Yes, Satoru~! Just like that~!" Suguru's chants of praise went in sync with his lecherous moans as he raked his hand through those snowy locks to press him closer, his little bun fell loosely unkempt from his insistent thrusting, slamming himself against the wall with each bang echoing off the see through borders. "Take me, Satoru~! Take it all~!"
Satoru's insatiable slurping paired with his thorough tongue lashing and gluttonous sucking accentuated Suguru's echoes; his nose buried deep in those raven colored pubes.
A sneaky appendage slithered beneath Gojo's slim tight pants, then under his boxer shorts. Lurching from the slimy firm hold stroking his own hardened length mercilessly, Gojo's deep groans vibrated through Geto's dong, driving his moans higher and louder than before. Rubbing his head with its wet end, sliding down to brush his balls, it all had Gojo's legs trembling as he instinctively grinded against Geto's beating heat. "Sneaky bastard~!" Satoru's muffled words were overshadowed by the titillated mewls mushing out of his stuffed mouth as well.
"Ah~!"
"Mh~!"
"Ngh~!"
Lathered in the cum slipping down both sides of his mouth and chin, Satoru's deepthroating by Suguru's slamming thrusts paired in tuned with those insistent rough strokes on his girth finally had them coming undone in unison; their verbal and muffled cries of release had your eyes bulging out of their sockets.
Pressing your trembling fist to your lips, you marveled at their flushed expressions and enamored noises, leaving you elated at making you come just from watching their pleasure together. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not until you felt those two interwoven with you. You were long overdue.
Your muffled cry of coming reminded those two you were still here, curled up against yourself, eyes glossed, lost in them coming down from their highs.
"Satoru~ It appears our dear Y/n has been by her lonesome long enough~" Dumping his heavy load for the latter to swallow greedily, Suguru retracted those tentacles out from Satoru's now ruffly tainted pants, freeing his bound arms as well, sending that particular curse back into the shadows, watching you with mischievous glee, knowing you in this state would prefer their touch than an octopuses.
Satoru's breathtaking blue eyes were now in your line of sight, heaving heavily with that rosy tinted face, sending droves of butterflies storming your insides. His feral mindstate was returning, being stoked higher, sharing Suguru's sentiments entirely. "Then, what say I plow that pretty mouth of hers myself?" Satoru's languid tone conflicted with his hungry gaze.
"So long as I can devour that finely plump ass~" Suguru purred, mischievously grinning.
"Deal."
Nothing compared to the white hot scorching of your lovers' tongues as Satoru legit crawled over to you, backpedaling you to be flushed against the opposite wall, openly kissing you to submission, your fingers raking through his white undercut then into his fluffy hair had him sighing in comforting bliss. Your eye peaked open, spotting Suguru kissing you from your neck to your jawline until eventually tempting you to pull away from Satoru's lips just to kiss him instead, despite Satoru's pouting at missing your lips already.
"Are you both good? We are risking getting caught together …" You couldn't help it.
Their hearts throbbed for your worrywart self.
Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Even now, you're still worried about us?"
Suguru chuckled. "We appreciate your concern for us, Y/n, but we're fine."
"More than ever, in fact. And right now, all I want is to gaze upon you. No covers. No restraints." Satoru, taking your hand in his, pressed kisses to your knuckles. "The way it should be~"
You hummed as Suguru took your other hand in his as he pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling your palm then kissing it. "Just the three of us."
You weaved your hands through their locks at the back of their heads, pressing their foreheads against yours, hugging them around their necks, getting teary eyed from the swell of emotions coming forth. "I need you so much closer … both of you."
Tilting your chin upwards between his forefinger and thumb gave more room for Suguru to clamp his teeth deep into your neck, gnawing long and hard enough in various spots to leave those red marks in his wake. "Goddess incarnate, you truly are~"
Sucking and licking from your ear down to the valley between your bosoms, Satoru smugly grinned up at you. "How did demons like us get gifted with such a naughty little angel~?"
With combined feral impatience, they tore open your dark jujutsu jacket, stripping your gasping self of your undershirt as well, smirking as they ripped your bra clasp apart, before devouring a mound for each to take.
"Toru~! Sugu~!" Your wanton cries made them that much harder, your fingers tugging harshly at their hair, as you surrendered to their mouths.
Suguru flicked your one rosy tipped mound, pinching and twisting it between his lithe long digits to his enjoyment at its jigglingness. "Neh … Satoru? Shall we finally claim this sinfully beautiful lady for ourselves?"
Satoru lashed your other swelling hill with feverish hardness, teething your bud as well as suckling it messily in between, before deeply chuckling. "From the look on her face, I'd say so."
He wasn't wrong.
Grabbing you by your hips, ripping the button off your work pants, sliding your panties down with them as well, they both breathed in your long missed bare beauty and your sought out essence.
Satoru's slim-fit matching black pants were shoved down those long fine legs, along with those soiled briefs, freeing himself at last. Suguru's high waisted poofy pants came down too, more erect and thick than before. In their own mind reading way, they knew what they wanted.
"Hug my neck, Y/n. And hold on tight." Satoru commandingly whispered in your ear. Just as you did as instructed, he lifted you up by your hips just as Suguru grabbed you by your knees, both carrying you with iron clad grips, both standing up with such ease. The strongest duo, people.
Stunned from the swift change in position, your hanging self suddenly rolled your eyes back as your body swayed from the tingling pilfering their already coated dongs evoked as they slid into you with familiarity. The flash of pain from the swift plunge made you shout loudly only to moan even harder as they lit the fire in you.
"Aah~! Hah~! Aghn~! Uhh~!" Your incoherent babbling only got them going, stroking their innuendos.
SQUELCH!
Suguru slamming you so hard from behind, drunk on how exhilarating you felt intertwined. "Mmph! Such a – mgh! – tight squeeze you are~!"
FWOP!
Satoru pounding into you excessively, his feral side coming back with a vengeance, shaking from sparks raking his nerves from your inner dripping heat sucking him up just as greedily. "That's it, Y/n~! Take it all~!"
THRUST!
Cum trickled down from all over, trailing down both men's legs and your flesh, forming puddles on the floor at how much was coming out.
The flaps of skin against skin, the gushing squished, the night lights of Shibuya highlighting all your curves, spasms, shuddering, the sweat lining your forms, your gaping sleek mouths, your muscles contracting and clenching.
You deeply missed this.
Intoxicated by their unadulterated need for your indulgence, your arching back, your bouncy breasts throbbing from each thrust, your lissom face, it was all – !
"Fuck, your cunt is heaven~!" Satoru keened hornfully, crushing his sloppy lips into yours, eating up all your mewls.
"Shit, your ass is bliss~!" Suguru raggedly moaned as you clenched around him, slipping in and out ravenously, bringing his face down to chew on your supple peaches.
The cacophony of your trio's profane shouts of ecstasy reverberated around you, eyeing the nightlife beyond the walls, wondering amiss the chaos in your mind if the others were alright. You could feel the number of cursed spirits dwindling, your allies spirits still intact, and the euphoria drowning away the headache your visions always gave.
Time slowed down as you felt Suguru's sweaty face pressing your lower back and Satoru's own against your own, both stopping as they heatedly caught their breaths, exchanging nervous but curious gazes, before Satoru looked into your eyes with his serious ones. "Y/n … will you let us … start a family with you?"
Your heart squeezed as they slowly lowered you back on the stained ground, humming as Suguru expressed the same intentions, having you straddling his lap from behind, angling your face to see his charming one again resting on your shoulder. "Being apart after all this time has made us consider what we now desire going forward."
"Granted, 10 days is just too much separation, if I'm gonna be honest!" Satoru griped, nuzzling your unoccupied cheek, smiling warmly. "And yeah, raising Megumi and Tsumiki together over the years has been quite the adventure."
"The same goes for Mimiko and Nanako … but they particularly want a baby sibling to dote on and spoil endlessly." Suguru softly laughed.
"Granted, I too would spoil that kid … our kid … to be honest, raising a kid in our kind of world is difficult, especially if they become a sorcerer, inherit our techniques, and be seen as another cursed pawn to use for society's personal gains … unless we destroy the corrupt system first." Satoru's straightforwardness had truth to your current realistic problem.
"This past year has been challenging for all of us. And I believe our secret partnership is not so secret after tonight. But if we do decide to have a kid, then we'll defend them until our last dying breaths." Suguru vowed, squeezing your hand in his giant sculpted one to your smiling delight.
"But only with you. And only if you want to." Satoru sheepishly chuckled. "Even though my dick is literally up your womb now."
"Baka." Suguru scoffed under his breath.
Your hands took each of theirs to cup your now stuffed belly together; Satoru's cock still inside. "I'll only ever bear one … with you two."
You were willing to do it. You yearned for it. Lord, the thought of bearing a child you three created together brought tears to your eyes. "So yeah. Let's do it."
Pulling out of you on both ends to make this work, Satoru stripped off his high collared jacket to ball into a makeshift pillow and Suguru slipped out of his monk robes for you to splay your bare back on, they made sure you were comfy enough to further progress as they gently laid you down on your temporary bedding. "Thanks~" You whispered your gratitude, earning big moist smooches on your honey soft cheeks from them.
Lustful possessive looks now sprouting on their faces, Satoru draping your left leg over his left hip and Suguru doing the same to your right leg over his right hip, each then taking a hand of yours to pin them both above your head; intertwined fingers and all, before guiding their veiny soaking thickness in their spare hands to gently, carefully, simultaneously sliding them into your achingly drenched folds. Your breathless urgent gasps came quickly, them being tolerable enough to give you time to adjust at being double stuffed.
After pulling in a lungful of air, you whispered. "K - Keep going."
Rolling their hips in sync, they completely domineered you in all your good spots, their upper ripped bodies flexing to your inner delight as they heaved in and out, gritting out groans through their teeth with you convulsing around them obsessively.
Blood buzzed in your ears whereas theirs were roaring at how much your moans enlivened them.
Their lean statures bending over just to suckle and smooch your face and neck, leaving red blemishes and bite marks in their wake. Your back curving in order to press your fuzzy nude self to theirs for their comfortable safe warmth.
Your throbbing breasts were brazenly exposed by their groping, thumbing and pinching with those long lithe fingers before their mouths swallowed your swelling melons; one for each to partake on. Their steamy breaths, savage canines, and skillful tongues combined with their jutting taking things up a notch had your toes curling and your legs squeezing their waistlines desperately when you saw it.
Your reflections on the smooth ceiling. Your flamed face, their ruffled heads devouring your boobs, cum slathering your clit as more splattered on your abdomen.
The thrill of seeing you all in your primal states made you howl sharper.
"None are worthy to bask in your raw majesty but us~" Suguru dictated selfishly, drooling popping off your breast, noticing your gaze training upwards before his veiny hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his depraved smile. "Devoted to only us~!"
"This cunt, this body, everything that you are!" Satoru's deepened husky voice going with each savage pounding had you gushing out more messily as he looked up from your other abused tit with narrowed eyes, shadowed with the thrill of his feral edge. "Ours."
Shedding hotly shimmering tears from the rippling explosions edging you closer, all you could do was writhe and spasm in delectable anguish as their pelvises tapped you like wrecking balls; delving straight for your womb, with your cunt throbbing at how much you missed this. Them. Smothering you in your own ripple of heaven.
The springs were coiling as you were all etching closer to the edge. Static sparked their fingertips when Suguru began gently squeezing and choking you, earning him your gasping heaving mouth with your tongue sticking out to his wry amusement. "Now then honey~ Come for us long and hard~ Your loving Sugu wants it~!"
Trails of fire forming from Satoru aggressively rubbing your clit had you chortling out such adorably profane mewls. "Your precious little self can't take much more of this, sweetie~ I can feel it~ Just let yourself burst free~!"
Suguru's thumb brushed your quivering bottom lip. "Let us bless you with our essence, our very souls~"
Satoru endearingly kissed your bump for good measure. "Let us put the most precious baby in that perfect little oven of yours~"
"Bear our child, Y/n~"
"Turn this cursed night to the most blessed one yet~"
Their squeezing hands on yours had you clawing at their veiny knuckles.
"No one else but you is worthy enough~"
"You were made for us~ You kept us together for all these years~ It has to be you~"
"Our closest friend, our wife, our ray of heaven~"
Your eyes widened as their free hands left your slightly marked neck and reddened clit to lay their hands atop another's over your accelerated heart, smiling with tears in their eyes at the overwhelming sexual amour, confessing with such emotion as the strongest duo that they are.
"I love you."
Their intimate, amorous words thickened with such raw truth did the trick.
The sensation of total release brought about a dizzying explosion of feeling, leaving you shuddering uncontrollably as you reached your glorious peak.
That broke down their floodgates.
Crying your name out in unison, they once again soared over the edge, but dumping a heavy truck load this time. Curling in on you, they flooded themselves inside you, they poured their dumploads of steaming white hotness in every crevice, fold and bundle you held, sloppily pounding into you for good measure to ride that high.
Their conjoined seeds have finally hit their mark.
All you could do was take it all in, heaving and crying softly at how their friction, their hardness, even their engorged heads felt too good inside you to be real.
But it all was.
This nasty, unhinged, embarrassing – yet provocatively arousing time spent on Halloween night.
With these two powerful, terrifying, sometimes unhinged men that have softer, gentler, tender sides to them.
Endlessly devoted, unconditional and all encompassing.
With each other.
And you, of course.
❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞
Over a decade spent cultivating.
Keeping it hush hush, as those two were on opposing sides, but still kept in touch because of you.
Trying to rebel against the system and make way for the next generation of sorcerers to change this kind of world into a better one takes work. Resources. Allies.
Ergo, you departing Jujutsu High post graduation to aid Yuki Tsukumo in her mission, guided by your visions and your own heart's ambitions to end the cursed energy problem; the root cause of this fractured world.
From your prophetic visions starting in your student days to realizing your two loves parting ways, you divulge your hidden truths to them. Wanting you three to stay united. Acting as double agents in a sense. Better than being forced to take each other out in this long marathon game.
Some convincing and persuading lead to an eventual struck deal. Partners slash secret lovers, regardless of their switched conflicting ideals and surface level allegiances. While neither were thrilled at you collaborating with Yuki; her playing her own part in dividing the fine line between them to their somewhat breakup, they knew you were overall fighting to change things your way just as they were doing the same but the way they individually were best at.
Dropping in on them back and forth, from Suguru's temple of a home to Satoru's private housing to even your own apartment when you were in Tokyo, your desire for you three to maintain your bond stayed strong.
Planned secret meetups, play dates where those two talked in private but watched with affection from afar as you get overwhelmed by those four precious rugrats, late night call sessions that lasted until the sun rose, roundabout impromptu rendezvous in each other's bedrooms …
Eventually, those years became 10.
The kids grew up. As did you three.
But with time came change. Good and bad. For you sensed the divide lingering beneath the surface growing to uncomfortable lengths.
When you had that vision whilst traveling abroad with Yuki doing research.
Of that December night.
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.
As Yuuta Okkotsu nearly killed Suguru.
And Satoru was tasked with executing him.
But willingly spared him as you arrived, their stunned faces on par with your eyes glowing and tears trekking down your face, as you tearfully embraced your one armed lover, begging for Satoru to heal him, offering Suguru refuge, for you no longer desired them fighting each other anymore.
Proclaiming that if they ever loved you at all, that you'd all marry each other straight away.
After a stunned faces pause from them both, immediately in came some touch deprived, molten kisses from both your men then watching them exchange some as well, Satoru restored Suguru's arm and promised to rendezvous with you as soon as he could, knowing he had his students to check up on. And Suguru had to pick up his girls as you helped walk him out of the wrecked school grounds as best you could.
While you have been dating for a decade, the idea of marriage popping up various times never came to fruition. Knowing your taboo relationship meant treason for Satoru and execution for them both if found caught.
But that near death experience, the second one, made you all reconsider how short your lives were and how certain precious things shouldn't be taken for granted, especially in this cursed world. You couldn't bear it. And neither could they. The look of heartbreak on your face was one neither desired to be the cause of.
Meeting up in Okinawa, among the snow covered flowers, in loving memory of Riko and Kuroi, internally apologizing for failing them to save them both when your vision came too late and you were too far away and not strong enough to aid them and your loves the most, hoping they and your dear friends back at Jujutsu High were both there in spirit, watching over you all and granting their blessing.
On Christmas Day, arriving well into the afternoon, with an awkward faced, gray suited Megumi and an optimistic Tsumiki in a floral lace bodice ruffle trim wrap hem chiffon formal gown in baby pink. Smack dabbed in between the siblings, Satoru Gojo was well suited up in his tux; hair down and shades on.
As was Suguru Geto, his hair now cut to grace up to his shoulders, right arm intact, in a matching tux, with the twins coordinating with Tsumiki on the plane ride over; Mimiko in a similar dress in navy blue and Nanako in a matching one but in burnt orange.
The impromptu modern-day elopement went underway in the chapel overlooking the snowy garden.
Thankfully, the twins helped score you an Ariel dress; a romantic cloud of matt organza, with a removable balloon skirt and sleeves, and a subtle black chiffon ribbon.
Your chaotic duo were awestruck, jaws slacked and eyes radiating with unbridled love.
Your four kids beaming with supportive glee at how you; their mother practically at that point, walked down that aisle like an angel descending down from the heavens. The girls giggling as you gave a flustered Megumi your bouquet.
Your hands grasping one of each from them as you began the small private ceremony.
Astonished and amazed that Satoru, having memorized both yours and Suguru's ring sizes, had purchased them as soon as they landed.
Improvising your vows on the spot, you three merely spoke from the heart.
The rest of the week was spent touring Okinawa, the guys treating your kids to all the joys this place gave to them and their long passed friends they consider as family too, making sure they were all conked out before your husbands treated you in your shared newlyweds suite and made sure to remind you just how much they both missed, cherished and adored you.
The rest of the year spent looking back on the hectic events leading up to that moment, as fireworks flashed throughout the night sky, the girls and Satoru cheering for the new year, Megumi and Suguru exasperated but smiling nonetheless, and you relishing being snug in between your embracing loves.
The congratulatory calls over Satoru's phone from Shoko and Nanami teemed with suspicion and reluctance whereas Haibara was over the moon for it. Even Yuki called you and gushed over your dramatic lovely momentum. All of them seemingly suspecting Suguru had survived but choosing to keep shut about it along with your kids, to you three's grateful reliefs.
A lot has changed since then.
Satoru letting you, Suguru, and the twins crash at his private home in the countryside where Tsumiki usually stayed with Megumi before he began attending Jujutsu High and staying in the dorms.
Suguru decided to try and start over, becoming the stay at home father of the group while Satoru was working and you were traveling. Still working out and training to still be in the best shape along with his girls, knowing that this new take on life would take time to adjust to as well as work on their hateful outlook on humanity as a whole.
Then a new issue revealed itself.
Particularly… Kenjaku.
Fortunately, your visions have helped you all derail his plans a lot over the past year and several months. But a millennium old cursed user was just part of the problem.
The rise of special grade cursed spirits with self awareness and intelligence was another.
So training Megumi along with Yuji and Nobara made sense to prepare them for what lay ahead. Yuji especially, with the King of Curses taking refuge inside him. But you still cherished them and the second years like your own babies as well.
Your last call with Yuki involved her discovery of the long sought after Prison Realm your vision foretold of as well as its hiding place.
The events of the Shibuya Incident came soon after. The deaths of thousands. As well as who was responsible.
After nearly passing out from the info overload, you made sure to message your husbands on the issue at hand. While apprehending slash rescuing the traitor Kokichi Muta from that Patchface's assault, Satoru saw your visions theories as proven fact with aid from Kokichi's own confessions.
Not willing to take the chance, of course you intervened.
Right before Yuki's sudden visit at your place, dropping the cube in a wary Suguru's grasp, giving him her personal request to capture Choso Kamo alive in the cube, so Satoru's imprisonment in it doesn't come to fruition as your vision unfortunately revealed as well, assuring him she'd stop by to pick it up when the hard work was done, dropping the bomb on him in her own Yuki way.
So Suguru; not fully trusting her, getting involved fell under his own personal agenda to ensure you both would stay alive and unsealed.
Of course Satoru got a text from her to give him a heads up on her and Yuta dropping by soon.
Then came the detailed veils dropping right after you two slipped in behind Satoru.
You know what happened next …
Which all leads to right now.
The walk down memory lane ended with you coming down from your high at last, easing down, relaxing your sore, tingling, fatigued self.
Pulling out their softened dicks in unison, admiring how much of their cum filled your swollen red pussy and stuffed your moistened ass crack; trickling down like tiny streams of thick cream. They released your hands as their heaving selves laid down on either side of you, cushioning you in between. Satoru's snug tee and Suguru's sweaty scarred chest.
"That … was awesome." Satoru breathlessly cheered.
"Our best one yet." Suguru hummed proudly.
"Question. Whose cleaning this mess up?" Your shaky finger pointed at the cum all over the floor.
Both men tiredly cackled, nuzzling your nose and cheeks.
"Eh, let the workers here handle it, sweetheart~ We did help save Halloween, after all!" Satoru mused.
"Besides, we have more important matters to discuss." Suguru pointed out.
"Like?" You panted.
Suguru pushed himself up to gather your discarded clothing. "What shall we name our bundle of joy?"
"Mochi~!"
"No food related names, Satoru." He was deadpan serious.
"I'd rather that than anything outdated or boring! Our kid deserves the best name possible! Unless you want them to be miserably stuck with one for life~?" Satoru prayed that wasn't the case.
"Ahem." Your reaching hand had Satoru pulling you up on your sore bum as Suguru handed back your attire. "I'd rather we put our clothes back on, go home, call it a night, and talk about this in the morning. When I'm not entirely wiped out?"
Satoru started putting back on his jacket, flirting, "Oh our sweet, darling angel, how our world turns to your loveliness~"
Suguru slipped back on his robes and kasaya garment, tying them up tight. "She's right though. We've postponed our departure long enough. The girls are waiting for us back home, after all."
"Work related stuff can be dealt with in the morning." Satoru groaned, stretching his limbs, popping them from stiffness.
"Need help getting up though." You whimpered, fully dressed but too sore to stand up.
"Allow me the honor, our lovely wife~" Suguru swooned, sweeping you up with no struggles.
"Can we squeeze in one spooky film viewing though~?" Satoru pouted, pleading.
"In the living room, with the girls. You handle the snacks, I get the blankets." Suguru suggested.
"Deal." They kissed on it to your giggling relief. "Y/n, you're something special, ya know that~?" Satoru, your husband, pecked your nose.
"Our special wife, soon to be mother of our child." Suguru smooched your forehead.
"Oh, how long will that take, I wonder~? Hehe, our bedroom is gonna get pretty occupied for a while~" Satoru chuckled mischievously.
"Hey." Their eyes looked to yours as you smiled with such smittenness. "I love you both too."
They both kissed either side of your lips, coming together in one drawn out smiling smooch, before Satoru grabbed Suguru's shoulder, allowing you all to teleport on outta there together.
Back home, safe and sound.
For your own special Halloween.
The night is still young, ya know.
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Text
The Greatest Gift of All (JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
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"How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?"
Pairing: JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: In which your friends take it upon themselves to help you release your inner slut by taking you to a glory hole for the first time to get you some dick for Christmas. Many of them.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dubcon/R*pe (to be safe); Reader is Fem; Reader is Black-coded; Reader Has Breasts/ Pussy/Brown Nipples/Thick Thighs/Curves; Gloryhole; Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Hair-Pulling; SLOPPY Blowjobs & Cunnilingus; Fingering; Anal Play/Anal; Ripping Clothes; Some Dacryphilia; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampies; Bukkake; Consensual Gangbang; Petnames; Degradation; Praise; Aftercare
Petnames According to Characters:
Gojo: Cutie
Geto: Baby Doll
Nanami: Darling
Sukuna: Princess
Choso: Mama
Mahito: Kitty
Toji: Little Girl
Shiu: Pretty Girl
Ino: Sugar
Todo: Gorgeous
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Regarding the "dubcon/r*pe" warning, while the reader does consent to a gangbang, there are parts in this one shot where she does not VERBALLY consent to different, sexual things done to her, BUT does enjoy them.
Writer’s Note: MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY SLUTS!! I'm wine drunk & going to bed. Brace yourselves. This one is very long & VERY nasty. Enjoy & stay sexy! Love you! -Jazz
*********
You stand in front of the strange building with its glowing, neon sign pointing down the stairwell beneath the building, staring at them like they’re the gates leading straight to Hell.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ joking,” you whisper to yourself. 
You turn to your friends who excitedly stare at you under the glowing street lamps, their excited breaths leaving their mouths in puffs of air in the cold December night. “This was your gift to me for Christmas?!” you squeak. “A glory hole?! You brought me to a fuckin’ glory hole of all places?!” 
“Surprise!” Shoko shouts while Mai excitedly giggles. Beside her, Maki just looks ready to get inside somewhere and get warm, hugging herself in her waistcoat. “We said we were taking you to one of the greatest places on Earth,” Shoko continues, puffing on her cigarette in her red coat and nylon stockings. 
You would’ve thought judging from her outfit, along with the rest of the girls’, that you were going to a nightclub after dinner, which was what the girls originally told you they were taking you to before mentioning taking you to “the greatest place on Earth”. They left you complete in the dark during the car ride here, and now you understand why. “Shoko, one of the greatest places on Earth is Disney World or a spa. Nothing a damn glory hole. Like…I can’t even believe this.” 
You press your hands to your temples, rubbing them as if that will help this unbelievable situation process quicker. Mai giggles in between Shoko and her sister in her faux fur coat, her glossy lips curled into a smile. “Believe it, baby,” she chuckles. “We brought you here as a way to show you that we appreciate you. It’s the best Christmas gift we could come up with for you.” 
You gape at her. “You seriously couldn’t have came up with something else to get me? Like a bag or even a vacation? This is what you decided on?” You motion to the building, exasperated. “I would’ve even had taken a club hop and dinner, which I thought y’all were taking me to!” 
That was the whole reason why you dressed up in your best sexy clothes for tonight: a mini dress that hugs your curves and ass, and makes your skin pop with its bright color (you wanted to catch eyes tonight); nylon stockings that stick to your shapely legs and thick thighs; a push-up bra to show off your breasts to every eligible, sexy guy on the street; rhinestone heels that you can still walk and dance in. You did your hair, letting your braids/twists/coils/curls down to bounce around your face that Mai perfected for you with eyeshadow, blush, and Fenty Gloss to make your plump lips look even more appetizing. 
Now you’re getting the feeling that Mai only did your makeup just so it can be ruined in here. 
“And we still will!” Shoko protests. “Honey, no way am I giving up on that hibachi dinner. And if you’re still in the mood and got all your energy after this, we can go clubbing. The night is still young, girl!” 
“Plus, the clubs don’t open till about 8,” Maki chimes in, hugging herself tight in her black coat. She’s still wearing her glasses despite her eyes coated in dark eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner. “We’ve got an hour till then.” You stare at her, wanting to throw a tantrum. “You’re not supposed to chime into this, Maki,” you groan. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one!” 
“She’s the one who had the idea,” Mai giggles. “My sister can be such a slut sometimes.” She bumps her hip with Maki’s, making the long-haired girl blush behind her spectacles. “Stop,” she whines. “And logically speaking, the best cure for winter blues and burnout is sex. It’s scientifically proven.” 
You squint at her, not believing a word she says. “Is it though?” you argue. Maki just shrugs, not denying or arguing back. “I mean, how did you even find this place?” 
“It’s been here for a hot minute,” Shoko explains. “Plenty of young, tender folks like us venture in and out of here for a quickie. I’ve been going here for the longest ‘cause it makes for a great spot for a no-strings-attached, hot, anonymous sex.” She gives you a wink that makes your stomach churn. “And it’s a reverse glory hole too, meaning you can get your nut as well as give someone else theirs.” 
You stare at your friends and then at the blinking neon sign pointing down the staircase like it descends into Hell. You can hardly imagine yourself walking in there in your mini dress and heels, looking all pretty, only to be wrecked by the strangers wandering in and out of the dark that you don’t even know. Let alone their faces! You step away from your friends then, putting your hands out to stop them from coming near you. 
“No,” you firmly say. “No way am I going in there. I’d rather go to the club and fuck somebody in the bathroom than do this.” 
As soon as you say it, you know that it is the wrong thing to say. Shoko raises a questionable eyebrow at you. “So what’s the difference between fuckin’ a guy in a nightclub bathroom and fuckin’ a guy at a glory hole? Either way, you don’t know the dude!” 
You flush embarrassingly, knowing that she’s right. “And each guy that comes in is tested and has background checks, so no weird shit,” Mai adds. “Don’t worry; we’ll show you everything once we get in.” She goes to take your hand, but your hand goes slack, your fingers refusing to interlock with hers. Your stomach is churning like you’re about to vomit and you feel like you can’t breathe despite the frigid air surrounding you. “I'm sorry, girls, but I can’t. I’m gonna take an Uber back and–“ 
“The hell you are!” Shoko scoffs, glaring at you. “We paid $25 each to get you your own private room for an hour and you’re not about to waste this gift.” Maki huffs exhaustingly, visibly shivering in her coat. “Can we please just get out of the cold? I’m freezing my tits off at this point.” 
You look back up at the glory hole sign, biting your lip. “I-I don’t know…” The truth is you do want to go in. You want to throw caution to the wind and experience what the girls are saying will get you out of your rut that has been bugging you since November came and hasn’t left since despite Christmas finally being here and all of that hard work (and money spent) being done. You’ve been working extra hard to rack up for Christmas gifts and save money, which means working extra hours at work and budgeting….even if that meant calling off plans with your friends and staying in. 
It has made you extremely stressed and they say that sex is the best stress reliever. And you’ve wanted sex for the longest time. You want nothing more than to feel hands on your body; lips on yours; a thick, throbbing cock filling you up; someone taking care of you the way you can’t. The most you can do is use your fingers and sex toys that you keep close to you in your nightstand, and though it feels good, each orgasm has been feeling more unsatisfying than the last. 
You need something more. Something intense. Explosive. You need your hair pulled and your ass spanked. You need your mouth filled as you’re told what a naughty slut and a good girl you are. But the idea of doing this with someone you barely know, let alone multiple men, makes you nervous. 
Mai must sense your apprehension because you squeezes your hand tight. “Hey,” she says soothingly. “We know you’re apprehensive and we know you were looking to a normal gift and some food, but we only did this because we know how burnt out you’ve been lately. Every time we see you, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve mentioned how you’ve been sleeping less and less.” 
“And you cancel plans with us nowadays just to work,” Shoko adds. 
“And you’ve mentioned before how you’re not dating,” Maki adds. “So that only adds more stress to you.” Maki eagerly nods. “It’s not good for the body or for her!” She nods down at your thighs and you flush harder, hugging your coat flaps together to hide yourself from review. 
You know that they’re right. Dammit, all of them are! You’ve been noticing how haggard you’ve been looking and no kind of creams or vitamins are making it better. Not to mention how irritable you find yourself getting over minor shit, like a stain on your shirt or someone stepping in front of you in a line. While irritating, you find yourself wanting to flash out more and more. It doesn’t feel good, especially now that you know your friends have noticed it too. 
Maki squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve been working so hard, Y/N, and you deserve a reward for that. What better way to be rewarded than to get fucked by a bunch of sexy guys all at once?” She winks at you, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just trust us. We’d never steer you wrong. You’re going to love this!” 
You, once again, gnaw on your bottom lip harshly. “Well…” You look at the sign and the steps again, wondering just what will await you once you venture down those steps. You don’t know what it is, maybe the comfort and encouragement sparkling in your friends’ eyes or the undeniable ache between your thighs, but you find yourself giving in to temptation and accepting their “gift” to you. “Okay,” you sigh. “Let’s go.” 
Shoko and Mai let out a loud cheer while Maki sighs in relief, happy to finally be escaping the December cold. Maki hooks your arm through hers while Shoko practically drags to toward the staircase with its iron railing and concrete steps. You carefully step down each in your heels, your heart thundering in your chest the closer to get to the door to the secret club. Once you finally make it down the steps, Shoko knocks on the door thrice, causing a guard to emerge from inside. He eyes each of you curiously yet intimidatingly, towering over each of you. 
“Hi, there!” Mai greets, giving him a finger waggle with her manicured nails. “We’re here for the party. Champagne floats.” At this, the guard gives a wordless nod and asks for your IDs to which you show him. Once he sees every single one, he steps away from the door and lets you inside. “Have fun,” he grumbles, humor in his tone despite his rough voice. 
“Oh, we will,” Shoko chuckles. “Especially her.” She wraps an arm around you as she guides you inside the building which starts off as a dark hallway only lit by Christmas lights strewn along the walls as decoration, making your journey much more intense…and also exciting. With each click of your heel and your friends’ excited, hushed whispers, you can feel each emotion tighten into a ball inside of you, threatening to explode. When you finally reach the end of the hall, soft music with an R&B twang hits your ear as you come to the front desk where a young woman in a leather dress, piercings, and very nice breasts pushed up purposely high on her chest greets you four. “Welcome to the Underground,” she greets you in a sultry yet kind voice. “First time here?” 
“Not for us,” Shoko explains, “but for her, yes. Go easy on this one.” She nudges you, earning a glare and a giggle from your friends. “That’s alright,” the desk clerk giggles. “I’ll show you around and how everything works around here. Just let me look up your name and what room you’ll have tonight.” 
After looking up your name and finding your location, that being in the “master room” (whatever the fuck that means), she walks you and your friends down the endless hallway of doors. You believe you hear moans and lewd, wet sounds that remind you of unholy activities, but maybe that’s just your paranoia talking. The clerk brings you to a gorgeous foyer space with carpeted floors, arm chairs and a blazing fireplace. The atmosphere gives you a cozy yet sensual feeling. 
“This is what we call the Master Hall,” the clerk explains. “It’s for renters with the most money, which means the rooms come with more complementary items, such as a shower, furniture, and drinks for hydration.” She walks over to one of the many doors surrounding the hall, using a key to unlock it. 
“We’re just the peasants tonight,” Shoko whispers, earning giggles from the Zenin sisters. 
The door is opened, revealing a beautiful and tasteful booth-like room (big enough to hold three people) that smells of lavender and vanilla. It comes with a shaggy carpet that sits between two armchairs, a loveseat, and a small table littered with mini water bottles, packages snacks, and a small tablet with its cord connected to a wall…a wall littered with holes. It is the same thing on the wall behind you. 
Holes for cocks. Holes to fit your legs through for your own pleasure (including a bench for comfort). Holes to present your ass for the customer behind the wall. 
You flush at the sight of them, swallowing harshly. It’s so hard not to stare at them, picturing yourself sticking your ass or pussy in one of them. Though lewd and dirty, it is also arousing. You can feel a warm tingle between your inner thighs at the sheer thought of a hot guy coming through, deciding your pussy is pretty enough, and fucking you until you’re a mess.
From here, the clerk shows everything you will need to know about your time here, including what each hole is used for and how to position yourself for comfort. She also gives you a rundown of the number one rule: “Consent is key, so if someone asks you to do something you’re not comfortable with and they refuse to respect your decision or feelings, you contact us immediately on the tablet and they’ll be escorted out.” You nod your head eagerly, putting that away for later. She smiles then, excitedly. “And that’s it! I hope you enjoy yourself, sweetie. Just give me a call if you need anything.” She gives you a wink before walking out of the room in her heels, leaving the door open just a smidge. 
You look at the girls for comfort or encouragement, but they’re already heading out to give you your privacy. “We’ll be right next door if you need us, babe,” Mai says as she inches towards the door. You feel your stomach flip with fear at the idea of being left alone in such a strange place. “Wait,” you gasp. “Y’all are leaving me?” 
Maki almost looks apologetic but even she doesn’t stop to stay. “Of course!” Shoko cackles. “After all, you’ll need the privacy. Have fun, girl.”
She gives you a wink before she shoos Maki and Mai out the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone in the clean yet terrifying room with its damned holes. You feel yourself wanting to run out of the room and down the street to call a Lyft to take you home, but how would your friends react to that? They did use their own money for this. To bail now would make you feel guilty… 
And also like you’d miss out on something. Something satisfying. Something that may fulfill you if you give it a try. Plus, the idea of the men who come in being checked previously before you “spend time with them” makes you feel even better about the whole situation. To calm yourself as you wait, take advantage of the offered drinks and snacks. As sit down in one of the armchairs and proceed to sip on a beer and chomp down on a bag of chips to push away the nagging anxiety, you hear a ding come from outside your room. 
And then a knock along the wall facing you. Your heart nearly falls into your ass and you roughly swallow a chip. ‘One already?’ you think. You haven't even been here for twenty minutes…or have you? You haven’t been looking at the time. 
“Hello over there?” a silky voice calls through the wall, startling you. “Anyone in there?” You find your voice failing you, even as the stranger knocks on the wall. 
“Cut it out, Satoru,” another silkier yet deeper voice criticizes his partner. “Obviously, someone is there. She must be shy.” 
“It’s okay, stranger,” Satoru, which is apparently his name, teasingly says. “We won’t bite…unless you want us to. Come over and introduce yourself. I know there’s a wall here, but still, we’d like to meet you.” You can hear the smile in his voice and the deep chuckle of his friend. Their voices are extremely attractive; the type that belong to two very attractive men. But are you to take on two men at the same time your first time here? 
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, you slither off of the chair and crawl towards the two holes in the wall that the two strangers stand at. “Uh…h-hi,” you stutter. “It’s nice to meet you both.” You hear them both lightly laugh at the sound of your voice, making your stomach flip like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Nice to meet you too, cutie,” Satoru chuckles. “First time here, I’m guessing?” 
“Does it show?” you sheepishly ask. You each chuckle, the tension ebbed somewhat. “This was a Christmas gift from my friends.” At this, both of them full on laugh. “To a glory hole?” Satoru guffaws. “Guess you really must’ve been needing it then, don’t you think, Suguru?” 
His friend, Suguru, hums in agreement. “No shame in that,” he adds. “Sometimes, we all need a stress reliever. We come here just for that. I’m sure you need the same thing if you agreed to be here, right?” His tone has taken on a seductive purr that works on you shockingly well, making you shiver and shudder in delight. 
“So you got a name?” Satoru asks randomly. The question is so simple but it startled you all the same. “Satoru,” Suguru growls in warning. “You know names are a forbidden topic here. Don't get us kicked out.” 
“It’s okay,” you say abruptly, shocking yourself. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 
Satoru hums, pleased with your obedience and name. “Cute name,” he comments. “But if you’re not comfortable with us usin’ your name, we can always use pet names. You okay with that?” You swear, you nearly gush in your undies at the mention of pet names. You’re a certified sucker for them. “Uh-huh,” you reply, nervously wriggling your fingers. 
Satoru chuckles at your answer, whether out of humor or endearment, you have no idea. “Well, now that we’re all acquainted, do you mind if we fuck your throat for a little while, cutie?” he purrs. Before you can even utter an answer, two cocks are suddenly sliding their way through the two holes facing you. Your eyes widen at them and how big they are. While Satoru is on the thicker side and veinier with a clean cut of white pubic hairs, Suguru is much longer and curves upward, his pubics bare and completely shaven. “Go ahead, baby doll,” he coos. “Pick whoever you want. There’s no rush.” 
“And if you pick this loser, just don’t leave me out,” Satoru adds, pouting. “You’ve got a free hand, don't ya, cutie?”
You stare at them for a moment longer, mouth agape and trembling. Can you really do this? Are you about to do this? You don't even know these men and you’re about to give them both blowjobs! You can hardly believe it. But at the same time, you’re relishing it. You feel a thrill shoot through you like being at the top of a rollercoaster before it hits that drop. 
You first spit in your hand and rub both together to coat them in your saliva before you wrap them both around both cocks, stroking them up and down, testing out how they feel in your palms. They feel heavy like they could whack you in the face and possibly leave a mark. Soft moans and encouraging grunts leave their lips at the feeling of your soft, little hands stroking them. You become hypnotized by the shiny coat of your spit on their cocks and how your skin tone contrasts with their lighter skin–Satoru is paler while Suguru is a bit tanner. 
Finding yourself salivating, you go for the real thrill seeker and lean in towards Suguru’s cock first as he is the longest one and may possibly hit the back of your throat. You wrap your lips around his head and begin to lightly suck him there before going deeper, pushing half of his shaft into your mouth while your hand strokes the other. His loud moan as soon as your wet mouth and tongue wrap around his cock is orgasmic, making that tingle between your inner thighs grow. 
“Dammit,” Satoru growls, jealous that his friend gets your mouth before he does. “You lucky bastard.” Suguru begins to thrust his cock slowly into your mouth, sliding it along your tongue. “That’s it, baby doll,” he huffs. “Take me. You’re doing so well so far.” He takes a moment to slide out and slap his cock against your wet tongue before sliding back in, filling your mouth until he lightly hits the back of your throat. 
Your throat flexes around him for a moment and you gag, not used to having such a large appendage in your mouth. And so deep! All you can taste and smell is him, his scent a mixture of cologne and lavender soap that seems to make you wetter. The sounds of his enjoyment only make you hornier and you find yourself swallowing his dick whole, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. "Fuck, your mouth feels heavenly, baby doll,” he groans. “I wish I could see the pretty face I’m fucking into.” 
Satoru peers through the hole where he sees your glossy, plump lips wrapped around his friend’s dick, saliva dripping from your chin. “Just look at those lips!” He growls, almost animalistic. He begins to fuck your hand faster, picturing that it’s your mouth. Or, even better, your tight pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty wrapped around that big cock…we’ve gotta switch, Suguru, or else, I’m killing you.” 
Suguru chuckles. “No need to get hostile, sir. Have at her, but don't get greedy.” He pulls out with a soft groan, slipping his cock out of your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath before switching to Satoru who isn’t that gentle. As soon as he’s inside of your mouth, he is thrusting his entire cock into your throat, stroking the walls of your throat and filling your mouth up with nothing but him. You let out a squeal of protest as he goes too deep, making your gag reflex kick in, but as your throat flexes around him, he shudders with delight and pleasure. “Ohhh, shiiiit!” Satoru hisses. “You were right, man: her mouth is heavenly. God, her little throat is such a good cock sleeve.” He continues to thrust into your mouth, making you take all of it. “C’mon, cutie, take that big dick. Swallow it all like I know you can.” 
You know you have a choice to move away, to pop off of his cock and take a breath…but you don’t. You stay on your knees with a pillow underneath you that you snatch off of one of the chairs without tearing your lips away from Satoru’s cock. You suck and gag on him like your life depends on it while stroking Suguru’s cock in time with your sucking until you’re working both cocks like it’s your profession. 
As you do, another stranger comes out to the wall on your left where your other free hand lies. “I suppose I was too late for your mouth,” the stranger sighs. “But perhaps you have another hand free, darling?” His voice, calm, deep and coated in honey, makes you shiver. 
“Nanami?!” Satoru guffaws, still fucking your mouth. “Oh, shit, you come here too?!” Nanami doesn’t sound too happy about seeing someone here that he knows. “I don’t know you,” he growls. “And you won’t mention this to anyone or else I’ll find you later and kill you myself.” 
“I guess everyone needs a Christmas stress reliever,” Suguru chuckles, his voice breathless and strained from constantly fucking your hand like it’s his toy. “You’ll find it with this one. I promise you. She’s a first timer, but she’s so good at what she’s doing.”
Satoru hums in agreement, slipping out to give Suguru another chance at fucking your sloppy throat. “That she is,” he agrees. “You wanna takin three big cocks at the same time, cutie? You don’t have to think about anything except makin’ these cocks cum.” 
You find yourself wanting just that: to be nothing but an object for these three men. To be a hole for them to fuck because it pleases you too. You don’t want to think about anything––not Christmas or work or money––but making them bust their loads all over you. So you reach a hand out and grasp Nanami’s cock which is just as veiny and thick as Satoru’s and protrudes from a nest of clean, cut, golden hairs. His shuddery moan makes your stomach flip in excitement, especially when he joins the chorus of moans, grunts, and pleasurable sighs from the duo. 
For a while, it’s just the three of them…until it isn’t. Two more men show up, behind the wall facing your back. One of them knocks on the wall, startling you enough to retract your mouth from Suguru’s cock. “Boring,” the stranger grumbles, his voice raspy yet smooth, sending chills up and down your skin. “Don’t tell me you three losers have just been pumping your dicks in her holes and haven’t touched her yet. Amateurs.” 
“It’s truly a shame, brother,” the other stranger, his voice softer yet deeper, agrees. “And she’s a pretty little thing from the looks of this photo. I bet that ass and pussy are even prettier. You wanna show us what those losers are missin’ out on, mama? Skunka and I can take care of you.” His voice and the idea of being touched by them tempts you more than you can explain. 
“Reaaal good,” Sukuna growls. “You haven’t seen a big dick yet, princess. Choso and I both two. Now get that pussy over here before I lose my patience.” 
“That’s no way to talk to this girl!” Satoru criticizes though he has switched places with Suguru again and is now thrusting into your throat until his balls swing against your chin. “This is…fuck, cutie…her first time!” 
“Are you sayin’ we don’t have big dicks too?” Suguru asks, sounding irritated with and offended by the statement. 
“Ooooh,” Sukuna coos, full-on ignoring Suguru, the sound sending a shiver up your spine. “Even better. Don’t worry; I’ll prep her first. That’s why the lube is here.” Choso chuckles mischievously behind the wall, giving you a sense that they plan to do exactly what they are telling you…and won’t be gentle about it either. 
Before you even realize what you’re doing, you are lifting your ass in the air and pressing it into the hole behind you that is big enough to fit your ass cheeks and your pussy into it at the same time. The brothers groan at the sight of your plump ass and wet pussy on display for them, leading Skunk to squirt some lube onto his fingers while Choso lightly glides his fingers over your slit. You can’t help the soft moans that escape you as you continue to blow Satoru and Suguru while stroking Nanami. 
“Fuck, what a pretty voice,” Sukuna groans. “I know you’re prettier in person. Just as pretty as this slutty fuckin’ pussy.” He replaces Choso’s fingers and gives your pussy a light slap before gently running his cold, slick fingers over and around your slit. You retract your lips from Satoru's cock, hissing at the sensation. “Shh, mama,” Choso coos, stroking your backside comfortingly. “We won’t hurt you. Sukuna’s just gonna add some fingers, okay?” 
You do your best to relax, but nothing can prepare you for Sukuna’s thick fingers sliding inside you. “Fuck!” you moan around Satoru’s cock. The older, pink-haired brother begins to slowly fuck you with his fingers, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. As he does, lewd sounds of his fingers stroking the inside of your sobbing, wet pussy fill the air along with the famished moans and groans of the men surrounding you (so far). 
“Shit,” Satoru hisses. “I can hear how wet you are, cutie. That’s gonna make me fucking cum!” You can tell by how big his cock has gotten inside of your throat and how rough his thrusts have become, fucking your mouth like it’s his own fleshlight. Suguru hums in agreement, also fucking your hand as he swells inside of your palm. “Me too,” he pants. “Lemme fuck her mouth too, Satoru. Don’t be fuckin’ selfish.” 
Satoru listens, sliding out of your mouth to give Suguru a chance to fuck it. Your throat has become raw, a slight burning sensation now present from it being constantly fucked and stretched. 
“When you two are finish with her, pass her over to me,” Nanami demands, his tone strained and needy. “I can’t be satisfied with just her hand…though you’re doing a great job, darling. Such a good slut for me.” He grunts as he continues to fuck your hand, wet with your saliva and his dripping pre. 
Meanwhile, you continue to be finger fucked, stretching out your pussy and helping you accommodate to the digits inside of you. “Good girl,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Takin’ a stranger’s thick fingers so nicely. Mmmm, I’m gonna have fun stretchin’ this hole out the way it needs to be.” He curls his fingers up, drawing a loud whimper out of you that excites your customers. Choso is feening for you, buckling his pants to pull out his hard cock and pumping it in time with his brother’s finger fucking. “C’mon, bro, let me feel her too,” he groans. 
Sukuna angrily huffs, not sounding happy with being interrupted. “Then you’d be fuckin’ up my hard work,” he growls. “But you can taste her. Come here and put that tongue in her cunt.” The littlest, dark-haired brother does just that. Your soul practically leaves your body when he begins to suck on your clit while Sukuna continues to finger you, both brothers playing with your pussy. 
The immense pleasure you feel makes your body tingle and your mouth form an O-shape as you tear your lips away from Suguru’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you sob at the top of your lungs, causing Satoru and Suguru to quickly reach their end. They love hearing how pathetic and needy you sound as your pussy is eaten and fucked at the same time. How they wish they could see you…touch you… They each begin to fuck their fists to chase their orgasms, pumping their dicks in time with your sweet moans and whimpers. 
“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot, cutie,” Satoru moans. “I'm gonna fuckin’ cum on that pretty face of yours.” 
“Me too, shit,” Suguru groans. “Take it all, baby doll. Don’t disappoint us, okay?”
Before you can answer, the duo each let out loud, muffled moans from behind the wall as they finally explode, cumming all over your face and cleavage, staining a bit of your dress with their nut. You gasp in surprise at the warmth that splashes across your skin as they cum on your face, ruining your makeup and coating your lips in their cum. Their loud, boisterous moans of pleasure quickly morph into soft sighs and groans as they come down from their orgasmic highs, chuckling slightly as they are sedated for the time being. 
“Oooh, I can hear that someone got a facial,” a deep, rumbling, unfamiliar voice chuckles. “Am I too late for the party?” At this rate, you don’t know which wall he’s at.
“Just for her mouth,” Nanami growls. “I’m using it right now. Isn’t that right, darling?” You don’t know what possesses you, but after wiping most of the cum off of your lips and dabbing at your face with the towel provided, you turn your attention to Nanami and latch your lips onto him his cock. He begins thrusting immediately, not giving you any chance to breath or prepare yourself. 
Because of his rough thrusting, you accidentally graze his cock with your teeth, earning a sharp inhale. Nanami takes his cock out of your mouth to smack you in the face with it, tapping it onto your cheek. "No teeth, darling,” he huffs. “I was under the impression that you were good at this. Don’t disappoint me.” 
“You’d better be careful not to do that unless you want a spanking,” Sukuna chuckles, still fingering you. Choso hums against your clit, the vibrations traveling up to your waist and causing your hips to shimmy uncontrollably in the hole, desperate to push your ass into the sensations. “Oh, an ass wiggle?” Sukuna chuckles darkly. Guess you want one right now.” 
Smack! The sharp sound and sensation of a hand coming down hard onto one of your asscheeks makes you wince and let out a gargled moan as Nanami continues to fuck your throat. “Oooh, an I join in on that?” Toji asks, obviously lust quivering in his voice. “Seeing that ass jiggle was just too good. I wanna punish this little slut too.” 
“Make that for two,” another unfamiliar, deep yet equally as sexy voice chimes in. Toji laughs in delight. “Damn, that was fast. You finish up with the other little slut you had wrapped around your dick five minutes ago, Shiu?” The stranger–Shiu–scoffs through a chuckle. “More like I didn’t finish at all. Not after seein’ all these horny fucks over here, but now that I got a look at this pretty girl’s photo, I can see why.” 
“Be my guest,” Sukuna chortles, delighted with the idea of you being punished by multiple men. “Just don’t have too much fun. Choso and I still gotta make this little slut cum, don’t we, Choso?” The younger brother groans in agreement against your clit as he eagerly sucks and slurps at it. “Actually, bro, take a breather,” Sukuna rumbles. “I wanna taste this whore for myself now.” 
So the brothers switch, Sukuna now latching his eager, wet, torturous mouth onto your clit while Choso fingers you, fucking your cunt with slow, upward strokes that glide against your G-spot. The sensations you’re feeling are only heightened by Toji and Shiu spanking your ass repeatedly, the stinging sensations bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you feel your first orgasm of the night drawing near and you release Nanami’s cock from your mouth to moan out your warning. “Gonna cum!” you whimper. “I’m gonna cum!” 
Sukuna growls into your cunt, eager for your cream all over his mouth. “Go ahead, cutie,” Satoru whines, no doubt fucking his hand behind the wall. “Cum on that tongue. God, I wish that were me!” Nanami’s deep moans of need are what lead you to latch your mouth onto his cock again, causing him to thrust desperately into your throat. “Make her cum, brother,” Choso begs. “Make this cute little slut cream all over herself.” 
And Sukuna does. With a few quick, skillful flicks of his sinful tongue, you release with a loud moan only muffled by Nanami’s cock. Choso and Sukuna groan at your taste, both now slashing their tongues greedily across your pussy to lap at your juices. “I’m close too,” Nanami grunts, thrusting into your mouth faster, harder. “Gonna cum…gonna cum…fuck!”
He finally cums with a deep groan that makes your stomach flip and your pussy clench excitedly at the sound. His nut coats your tongue and the walls of your mouth, enveloping it in his taste. “Swallow it,” he orders. “Swallow all of my cum.” Though you could simply spit it out and pretend you swallowed it due to the wall, you find yourself obeying him and swallow his cum before exhaling. “Good girl,” he grumbles. 
Sukuna moves away from your pussy, as does Choso, and Toji and Shiu cease their assault on your now stinging, tingling ass. “She's all nice n’ wet now,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Perfect for a nice, big cock…with a rubber.” You suddenly feel something much bigger and thicker slide against your sensitive pussy lips and you flinch at the sensations. “Relax, princess,” he cackles. “I’ll go in slow.” And he does, but he still stretches you out once he does. He grabs your lips as he sheathes himself inside you, slowly filling you up. 
You gasp and your eyes widen at the sensation, a choked moan leaving your lips. “Fuck, you’re tight!” Sukuna grunts, his nails digging into your hips as his big cock sinks deeper and deeper inside of you, thrusting out before thrusting back in with another inch of him. You know without the orgasm or lube, this would be even more uncomfortable, so you’re grateful for their work. 
“Mmm, she sounds tight,” Toji groans. Suddenly, a thicker cock with an angry vein throbbing along the shaft and a red tip dripping in pre-cum slides through a hole beside you on your left. “You’ve got two hands, don’t ya, little girl? Stroke Daddy’s cock too. I paid good money for you.” Another cock slides through its own hole on your right, slightly thicker and girthier than Toji’s. “Me too,” Choso practically begs. “Stroke me too, mama. I need you.” 
“Don't forget me, pretty girl,” Shiu chuckles, sliding his dick through his hole to find your mouth. You don’t know what comes over you, but the need to make them feel as good as Sukuna–who moans and grunts through trembling breaths as his hands grip your hips and ass–overcomes you. You spit into your hands before wrapping them around the two cocks on either side of your head and then wrapping your mouth around the one in your face. You are fucked from both ends, so many cocks thrusting into your hands and your holes, turning your body into a living, breathing, moving flesh light. 
“Oooh, sounds like someone’s gettin’ fucked,” another customer chuckles from behind one the walls. You can’t tell where anyone is anymore. “Too bad I wasn’t the first one in line for that pussy. There’s always next time though, sugar~” 
“You’re just assuming you’ll get her next time, Ino,” a raspy, graveled voice retorts, saying the stranger’s name like it’s a curse word. “Once it’s open, that little kitty is going to be mine…right, kitty? You’ll need some more milk anyway.” Ino hums at the challenge, a smirk in his voice. “We'll see about the, Mahito,” he cackles. You feel as if your brain is about to explode, more because of the fact that there are more cocks to fuck, suck and make cum than because of the ones already fucking you. 
Speaking of fucking, Sukuna is the king of it. The friction is sweeter than sweet now, making you grind your hips back into him to meet his rough, ruthless thrusts. His callused hands massage the flesh of your ass and his nails dig into your hips, making you winch slightly, but you love the pain at the same time. You can tell with every thrust that he is getting closer by how fast his hips go, snapping against your ass and making your tits and ass jiggle. “C’mon, Sukuna, get it over with,” Choso whines, impatient.
“Shut up,” his older brother growls. “Don’t…fuck…rush me. She’s so…fuckin’ fuck, princess…tight!” 
He goes faster and faster like he’s trying to shove his entire cock into your stomach, pushing and pushing until you can hardly take anymore. You can feel your second orgasm of the night approaching and you moan around Shiu’s cock as spit drips from your lips. “I’m gonna cum!” Sukuna growls. “Take it all, you little slut! Deep in my pussy.” 
And you do. You have no choice. When Sukuna bursts inside of you with a loud, primal growl and a string of curse words that would make a nun blush, your mouth forms an O as you feel a warm, wet gush of cum shoot inside you before dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs when he slowly pulls out of you, emitting a weak moan from you. The men on the side where your pussy and ass protrude from the hole in the wall groan at the sight of Skunk’s creampie dripping out of you. “Look at that, Shiu,” Toji comments. “A nice, pretty pussy all for the taking…soon.” 
Shiu agrees, gliding a finger over your twitching, overly-sensitive pussy, dragging cum all over your lips. “A nice, used, pretty pussy at that,” he hums. “It only makes sense for such a pretty girl. You want us to fuck you next?” You shudder and shake from the aftermath of Skunk’s rough fuck session, but also from the idea of getting filled and fucked yet again. You can’t speak, your throat too dry and puffs of air leaving your lips in heavy pants.
“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Mahito says, though sounding chipper. “Turn around, little kitty. I’m gonna fill you up with my milk next and give you what your filthy hole is craving.” 
“And who the fuck are you to take my toy away from me?” Toji asks, irritated. “You got a death wish, bitch?” 
“Like we weren’t here first,” Satoru argues, just as heated. “If anybody deserves to fuck her next, it’s me and Suguru…and maybe Nanami if he can handle his pussy.” Nanami growls in anger from the insult while Suguru laughs. 
“Um…sorry, am I interrupting something?” a deep voice––much deeper than Toji’s––tentatively asks. “I’m here for…” He pauses and gasps at the sight of you. “Fuck, that’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen!” he excitedly says. You feel his cock, big, thick, and would absolutely ruin you, slowly slide against your slit, making your breath hitch. “You’re so wet down here, gorgeous,” he sighs through a shuddering breath. “And so tiny, too. I can tell I’m so much bigger than you. Don’t worry though; I’ll take good care of you.” 
“And who the fuck are you?” Mahito angrily growls.
“Aoi Todo,” the big, buff, deep-voiced stranger simply responds. “I’m about to fuck this gorgeous pussy here. Who are you?”
“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Ino says, becoming the peacemaker between the horny men outside your booth. “There’s plenty of her to go around. We can all share!” 
“Yeah,” Shiu agrees. “C’mon, pretty girl, give us that mouth. I’m sure the others can be satisfied with just your hands for now.” 
Once again overtaken by your sluttiness and need, you wrap your lips around Shiu’s cock while Todo and Ino slides themselves into your hands, thrusting into your palms as they moan about how good you are. As you do, Mahito slides into your pussy as he promised, taking your hips and gripping them so hard that you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. He fucks deep into your pussy, filling your walls with nothing but him and thrusting so hard inside of you that his heavy balls slap against your clit, giving your body sparks of pleasure. 
You switch between Shiu and Toji, becoming a wet hole for their relentless thrusting into your throat, causing you to gag and slobber so much that your spit drips over your tits and hits the floor. “Such a big girl takin’ two cocks at the same time,” Toji praises you. “At this rate, you’ll be a certified size queen in no time. Take me deeper, little girl.” You do as he says, taking Toji deeper down your throat and bobbing your head while Shiu slaps his dick against the side of your face, wanting more of you. 
Mahito’s huffs and pants of breath get louder as he gets closer to his own orgasm, pistoning himself inside you again and again. He begins to babble dirty talk, rasped whines leaving his lips as he lets you know just how good your pussy is. “Slutty little bitch, makin’ me lose it like this…makin’ me fuck you so hard and fast…I’m gonna give you lots of milk now, okay, kitty? Gonna fill you up now…fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
He, too, explodes inside of you, filling your pussy with cum. His feral grunts and whines trigger your own orgasm and he shudder around his cock as you cream all over it, squeezing him so much that his body begins to tremble from the sensations. “Oh, my God,” Todo groans, totally losing it at the sight of your pussy dripping with yet another cream pie. “Oooh, nice one,” Ino chuckles. “Though I have noticed that one of her holes hasn’t been filled yet.” 
It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out that he means your asshole. “Because of this stupid fuckin’ wall,” Satoru growls. “I’d love to fuck that tight little hole, feel that ass bounce against me…” Sukuna grunts in agreement. “If we lost this wall, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days. I’d fuck that pussy so good that she’d be sore. She couldn’t even walk out of here.” 
You can physically feel the arousal radiating off of the men through the holed walls, dozens of cocks oozing pre-cum and balls heavy for you. You smile at each of them, a seductive smile stretching onto your lips as someone––someone sluttier and careless––steps into your skin. “Do whatever you want to me, boys,” you purr. “I’m all yours tonight.” 
And then you do something very stupid: you allow them to drop that wall. You unlock the door for them and allow them to enter the booth, two at a time, in shifts, to fuck you silly. And you can’t believe how sexy they all are. 
First are Satoru and Nanami, both equally as tall and as sexy with lean muscle, but while Nanami is rocking a blonde undercut and a sharp suit (strange for a trip to a glory hole), Satoru has on a tight black tee and jeans with snow-white hair and blue eyes you know are panty droppers. As soon as the door shuts on you, he gives you a dazzling smile while Nanami’s eyes roam over your semi-naked form. “Hey there, cutie,” he chirps. “Thanks for letting us officially meet you. Now bend the fuck over.” 
Before you know it, minutes later, you are bent over the loveseat by Satoru while his tongue lashes at your pussy and clit, his words muffled and mashed by his face in your cunt. “You taste so good, cutie!” he whines into your cunt, but it comes out as, “You tashte sho good, cwutie”. Either way, it makes you grind your hips back into his face and sob into the pillow. Then it’s Nanami’s turn, who does the same thing, only he uses his funny-looking tie to restrict your wrists behind your back, making it so you can’t use your hands to push him away or pull him deeper into you. 
After your explosive orgasm into Nanami’s mouth, he places his hand on the small of your back, keeping you in position as he pistons his cock snuggly inside of your pussy while Satoru thrusts into your mouth from the other end. Both men trap you between them, using your holes for their own pleasure. “Nothing teamwork, right, Kenie?” Satoru chuckles breathlessly, his eyes glinting. “At this rate, we can fill this little cutie up at the same time, ya think?” 
“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami growls, one hand gripping your hair back while the other massages your ass. “You’re making me lose focus. Come on, darling, keep clamping down on me. You have one more cock that still needs a turn.” He continues to fuck you, emitting muffled moans and sloppy, wet sounds from your gushing pussy tightening around his cock with every stroke. 
Soon, they switch and now it’s Satoru’s turn to finally fuck your insides. He fills you just as Nanami did, smacking your ass and groping your titties, his fingers tweaking your nipples. He leans down as Nanami pounds away into your throat, not even caring about your ruined makeup. The others watch on from behind the walls, desperate for a turn to fuck you in person. 
“Such a cute little pussy tightening around that dick,” Satoru coos. “You love bein’ watched, don’t you? Love all this attention like a little attention whore…a good little cum slut. That’s what you are now, cutie. Now take my cum.” Five more thrusts and he explodes with a loud moan that bounces off of the walls as he fills you with his cum. You soon cum with him, your body shuddering and soaring high above the clouds.
“Take my cum too, darling,” Nanami grunts. “Take it all inside you…fuck!” He cums too, filling your mouth to the brim so you have no choice but to swallow again.
Next are Suguru and Sukuna. Like Satoru and Nanami, they are tall and sinewy with hard, lean muscle, but while Suguru has long black hair you want to run your fingers through and a dragon tattoo inked on his muscular back, Sukuna has spiked pink hair, tattoos, and piercings that make you wetter. They each walk with a swagger into the booth, oozing with confidence and sex appeal. It doesn’t take them long to have you on your back and their cocks to be inside you again. 
Suguru sits up on his knees, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth, your head turned to the side to accommodate him. “Gently, Sukuna,” he grunts. “Don't wanna break the girl.” Sukuna is practically mounting you, your legs hiked up over his shoulders as he deep dicks you. “Please,” he scoffs. “This slutty girl can take anything we give her, right, princess?” His hand snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it, and emitting broken gasps from your mouth.
Suguru leans down to press a kiss to your sweaty brow and whisper into your ear while Sukuna nails your G-spot again and again, turning it into mush. “You’re gonna let us fuck you good, right?” he purrs. “You’re gonna trust we can take care of this body and use you until you can’t even move because that’s what you want from us.” His thick fingers find your clit and begins rubbing it between your thighs. “You want us to fuck these tight holes until you’re cumming over and over again.” 
Sukuna cums inside you for the second time, giving you yet another creampie that oozes down your thighs, before Suguru leans back and pats his lap for you. “Hop on top, baby doll,” he coos. You slowly do so, your body weak, and he holds you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Just relax for us, okay?” he whispers. And as you sink down onto his cock, you feel Sukuna’s fingers, slick with spit and lube, gently probe your asshole. “Fuck!” you sob. 
You grip Suguru’s shoulders as Sukuna slowly and gently stretches out your asshole, his eyes widen like a kid in a candy store at the way your brown little hole stretches around his fingers. “Good girl, takin’ these fingers in that tight hole,” he chuckles. “Even tighter than that pussy. Such a good fuckin’ slut…a nice toy for us to play with.” 
Your hips begin to stutter and you stop fucking Suguru to whine and yelp at the sensations, feeling too much at the same time. Though it doesn’t exactly hurt, you feel too full and it is uncomfortable. "Can’t take it!” you desperately scream. “I can’t…I can’t!” Suguru pauses to shush you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips.“Shh, baby doll,” he whispers. “He’s gonna use your mouth instead while I fuck this pussy till I fill you up. You can handle that, right?” 
Sukuna has now pulled his fingers out of your asshole to kneel beside your face, not even waiting to thrust into it. “Stop askin’ her what she can and can’t handle,” he impatiently growls. “This slut doesn’t get a choice, but I wouldn't wanna break my toy, so I’ll just fuck your throat until I cum deep inside it. How’s that, princess?” 
And he does. And when he does, Suguru wraps his arms around you and firmly holds you, bucking his hips until into you. “Good girl, good girl,” he repeatedly hums as Sukuna fills your throat with every ounce of his cum. Suguru cums right after, exploding inside of you and filling you up with him until you feel full enough to burst. 
Next are Ino and Todo. By this time, you’re an exhausted, cum-filled mess, your dress ripped off and makeup ruined. The only things left on you are your heels and jewelry. Ino waltzes in first, dressed in all black with a beanie drooping over his forehead. He gives you a humored smirk as the sight of you. “Oooh, shit, sugar!” he cackles. “You look so wrecked.” He kneels down to lift your chin up with his thumb. “But you ain’t seen nothin’ yet ‘cause now it’s my turn to have you. And I don’t get to share you either, so I can have you all to myself.” 
He presses a wet tongue kiss to your lips, only to be interrupted by Todo. Your eyes widen at how big and buff he is with a scarred face that does nothing to hide his handsome features. Your eyes immediately fall to the bulge he is sporting in his baggy black pants, knowing you’re done for. “Speak for yourself,” he grumbles, cutting his eyes at Ino. “Usually, I don’t like sharing any pretty thing with just anyone, but I can make an exception this one time.” He smiles down at you, a twinkle in his eyes. “You’ve never seen the likes of me, have you, gorgeous?” 
And then his pants are down and you decide that no, you haven’t. For Ino either. They both are so much bigger without the glory holes in the way. You can barely lift yourself up off the couch to move and the two don’t try to make you. Ino crawls on top of you and gently slaps his cock against your asscheeks. “You don’t have to do anything, sugar,” he coos. “Just lie there just like that. I’m just gonna get on top of you, slide in and…f-fuck, you’re tight!” 
He fucks you prone bone style, completely mounting you as he drives his cock and hips into you, making your ass jiggle and the couch cushions bounce with his every assertive, rough movement. In front of you, you see two heavy balls, thick, muscled thighs, and a thick cock in your line of sight. Your eyes roll up to meet Todo’s who stares down at you with the desperation of a horny, tortured soul.
“Can you pick your head up for me?” he gently asks. He does so for you, lifting your head up with his hand under your chin. “I just need your mouth this time, gorgeous. Don’t worry; you don’t have to do much.” He taps his cock against your plump lips, leaving pre-cum staining them. “Just open up and…f-f-fuck yes!” His grunts and whines fill your ears as his cock slides in and out of your mouth, filling your throat and nostrils with the taste and scent of him. 
Ino continues to drill his cock into you, going deeper and deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, your pussy is sweeter than you, sugar,” he groans, then chuckles. “Just kidding. Every part of you is sweet…fuckin’ delicious…” He peels back the hair in your face to see your expression, your eyes glazed over and lost in total ecstasy. “Take it all for me, sugar,” he moans into your ear. “Take all of this dick deep. I know you need it.” 
He slides out a few times to fuck his cock between your ass cheeks, hotdogging you and dragging his pre-cum and your juices across your ass crack. He whines as he does this, babbling about how good your ass feels and how much he wants to fuck it.
You realize how much more vocal he and Ino are, how “subby” they sound as they groan and whimper about how tight, wet, and good your holes feel. Ino ends up cumming between your asscheeks, clenching them as he shoots his load across your lower back. You gasp weakly as he does, not expecting it, and you just feel sticky afterward. 
Without moving you, the two switch and suddenly, Todo is mounting his big body on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. Though you’re exhausted, the idea of being trapped beneath his muscles excites you and you clench around him as he nails his cock inside of you again and again. “You’re s-so good at this, gorgeous,” he groans. “That pussy is grippin’ me so tightly, shit, shit shit, I’m gonna cum!”
He finally cums too, filling you to the brim with his cum. It oozes out of you freely, dripping down your thighs and around his cock, emitting soft whimpers and moans from the both of you. “Fantastic,” he huffs, kissing your shoulder. “You're at natural at this.” 
Choso and Mahito seem to think the same thing when it’s their turn to wreck your shit. When they come in, their arrival is like a dark cloud floating into the room. You know just by looking at them that they’ll fuck you up. Choso is quite attractive with spiked, black hair tied into ponytails, tape on the bridge of his nose, and a pediment, sleepy look in his eyes rimmed in purple. “Damn, mama,” he laughs in disbelief. “You just had five different cocks and you’re still able to function? I’m impressed.” 
Mahito is just as hot despite his unruly, long silvery hair and disconcerting smile. He also has the prettiest eyes framed by doll-like lashes, piercings, and tats that cover every inch of his muscular body. “Of course, she’s still functioning,” he argues, looking down at you with nothing but dark, molten lust. “She needs as much milk as she can handle, don’t you, kitty?” When you don’t answer, he yanks roughly on your hair, pulling you up. “Don’t you?” he growls. You hiss at the pain of your scalp being pulled. 
“Don’t be so fuckin’ rough, man,” Choso growls, but even he can’t hide the way his cock twitches at the sight of you being yanked around like a rag doll. “Please!” you whine, unsure of what you’re begging for.
Choso leans toward you, his face just inches from yours. “Please what, mama?” he asks. “You want us to fuck you again?” His hand sneaks between your thighs to cup your mound, wet and overused. “It’s okay, we’ll give it to you. Don’t you even worry about it.” 
Without another word, he flips you onto your back and crawls on top of you, blocking your view of the ceiling like a handsome eclipse. “Just rest your pretty ass there and let me fuck you, okay?” Then he’s sliding inside of you, your thighs pinned open by his hands. He gives himself time to get used to your tightness, rolling his hips slowly into yours. With every roll, you weakly moan and gasp, too tired to be another louder. 
You can’t make any more noise because Mahito is turning your head to slide his dick into your mouth, forcing you to take every inch until his pubic hairs and balls are touching your chin and lips. He stands near the edge of the couch as he fucks your face, glaring at Choso fucking your cunt as he does. “Motherfucker takin’ my spot,” he grumbles. “You’re lucky she looks so enticing right now with how she’s taking your cock.” 
Choso smirks as he drives his cock into you a little faster, causing your body to bounce against his cock. One hand shoots out to fondle your breast, rolling your hard nipple with his thumb, as he fucks you stupid, sharp huffs of breath and moans leaving his lips. But no matter how good it feels or how your clit rubs against his pelvis, you can't get any louder.
“So quiet, kitty,” Mahito chuckles. “Must not be fucking you good enough.” He slides his dick out of your throat to smack you in the face with it. “You won’t be able to hide that voice when I’m inside of you. I’ll make sure of it. I like my whores loud.” 
“So do I,” Choso grunts. “C’mon, mama, give me that voice.” He slides his wet cock out of you to smack his hand against your clit, bringing a sharp, pleasurable sting that makes your thighs clench. Smack! Smack! “Give it to me!” he repeats, louder this time. “Let me know how good that dick feels fucking you!” 
“Please!” you yelp. “Please, I can’t take it! It feels too good!” Happy with that, Choso goes back to fucking you until he spills his cum deep inside you, filling you up so much that Mahito is impressed with the amount…but then it’s his turn. And he makes sure that you feel it. He has you sit up on your knees and presses his cock against the entrance of your ass: the one hole that wasn’t purely fucked. You whimper and gasp as his head presses into you, farther and farther, feeling stretched despite Sukuna’s fingering and the wetness surrounding it. 
“Guess nobody stretched this hole out yet,” he tuts. “Well, I’ll change that. I’m just the man to do it.” Before you can protest, he pushes himself farther into your ass. You can’t describe the pain nor the pleasure: it is searing hot and draws the loudest sounds out of you that make Mahito cackle and Choso fuck his semi-hard cock with his hand as he stands before you. 
Mahito relishes your wails and the wiggles of your body as you try to get away. “Don’t run from me now, kitty,” he chuckles. “I’m just doin’ what you wanted.” He grips your hips tighter as he roughly fucks your ass, his slow strokes more torturous that fast ones. You can feel all of him stretching out your asshole as his other hand loops underneath you to rub your clit. You can feel your body failing on you, your knees and wrists becoming weak. “Aww, what’s wrong, kitty?” Mahito condescendingly asks. Can you not take anymore cock? Am I being just a little too rough?” 
You whine in response, unable to form words. His hand then snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it. “You should’ve thought about that before you opened the door, you little cock slut. Now you get what you came here for.”
You look up at Choso for rescue, but he is too busy pumping his cock in your face, chasing another orgasm. “Keep lookin’ at me,” he demands. “I want this sexy body and pretty face covered…want her to smell like me. Don’t want anyone else touchin’ her, not even my brother.” When he finally splashes his cum all over your face, Mahito empties his balls deep in your ass, filling you like you’ve never been filled before. You gasp as the feeling, your fingers clenching the pillow below you. 
When they finish and leave you in your booth (not without a kiss on your lips from Choso and an ass slap from Mahito), you lay on the couch, spent and exhausted. You think this is the last of your rounds…but you forget about Toji and Shiu. And baby, you haven’t been fucked yet. They make sure you understand the differences between sex with the others and sex with them when the two older men walk into the room. 
You weakly look up at them from the couch though you don’t lift your head. They are equally as hot and muscular, their toned muscles pushing against their dark clothes and cocks swinging nakedly out of their flies, veiny and thicker than snicker bars. Toji has a tiny scar at the corner of his devilish smirk, gray eyes the color of rain clouds, and a black mullet. “Last round, little girl,” he chuckles. “Don't worry; we’ll go real slow for you. Won’t we, Shiu?” 
Shiu has a sharp, trimmed cut, tanned skin, and a thin mustache over his plump lips. “Mmm, absolutely,” he agrees, “but you’re not leavin’ here till you make us cum.” He kneels down so his face is level with yours, his breath smelling of mint. “And we’re not leavin’ till we make you cum,” he whispers.  
Toji kneels down too, stroking a hand over your hair. “Is that understood, slut?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, understanding that you’ve opened Pandora’s box and the only way to close it is to give them exactly what they want. Toji’s smirk grows and he taps his hand lightly against your cheek. “Good.” He stands along with Shiu, their cocks dangling in your face. “Now take these cocks just like we know you can.” 
You don’t know what kind of fire lights inside of you, but at the sight of their dicks dangling in front of you for you and you alone, you suddenly get a burst of energy and eagerness to get your hands on them. Minutes later, you are on your knees between them and eagerly sucking and stroking them dry, spitting, slobbering, and gagging all over them. You stare up into their eyes and alternate between stroking their dicks and trailing your hands down their toned stomachs, relishing their muscles and abs under your fingertips. 
You welcome the tiny grunts and soft moans Shiu gives as he watches you, astonished at the way you take both cocks. “She’s so eager,” he moans, staring down at you in disbelief. “How is it you’ve had all of these dicks slung inside you already and yet, you’re still going?” 
Toji smiles greedily at you, his hand cupping the back of your head as you throat his cock, swallowing it hole as spit dribbles from your lip. “She makes it so easy,” he sighs wistfully. “Makes it so, so easy for me to scoop her up and take her home for my own…my little toy…my little cum slut.” “Keep suckin’, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well. Don’t stop now. Such a perfect mouth on you~” The praise has you sucking faster, gulping down both of them like the eager cum slut they see you as. 
But they don’t cum down your throat. No, they want to make this count. So you find yourself sitting in Shiu’s lap with his cock snuggly inside of you and his hands gripping your hips as you slowly grind your ass back to rub against your clit. Toji sits beside you on the couch, watching you ride Shiu; more specifically, watching the way your ass moves in his lap. “Decided to give that throat a break. Just focus on makin’ my friend cum, okay?” He winks at you, wrapping a hand around his thick cock. 
You don’t know what to focus on anymore: the way Toji so intensely stares at you as he fucks his hand or the way Shiu fucks back up into you. He grasps your breasts; your stomach; your ass; anything else he can touch.
“That’s it,” he praises you, his voice strained from the pleasure and your tight walls squeezing him. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight! I could stay here all day.” And you would let him. The way his thick cock strokes your velvety, inner walls and bumps against your clit is just too good for words to describe. Your eyes flutter shut as moans and gasps leave your lips and echo in the booth, unable to be hidden anymore.
You suddenly feel Toji’s hands on you and his lips sucking at your nipples. “You have the prettiest body, little girl,” he chuckles. “Look at these gorgeous nipples…so hard from these old guys’ dicks.” His teeth graze one of your hard, brown nipples, giving you a spark of pain and pleasure.
“T-Toji,” you whine. It’s the only word you can form. As he continues to work your breasts, Shiu snakes a hand around your throat and lays it there as he drives into you deeper and deeper. “Take more of me, pretty girl,” he groans. “I want to be so deep inside you that you have no choice but to take all of my cum.” 
And you don’t. Because when he cums, you feel every inch of his cock swell and then explode inside of you, filling you up. Shiu presses his face into your back as he groans, cumming deep inside of you, and squeezing you like he owns every part of you. As his nut drips out of you and all over the couch, you think that he is all that is left…but you’re forgetting about Toji. When Shiu releases you and gently settles you down on the couch, Toji is more than ready to have his fill of you next. 
He leans down to coo at you, a mocking expression on his face that you miss because of your exhaustion. “Tired?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, emitting a laugh from both men. "Aww, don’t worry, little girl. I’ll do all the work for you. Just stay there and be a good slut for me.” 
And you do. You physically cannot move. Your limbs feel like jelly and dizziness has taken over. Toji doesn’t mind how sticky with sweat and cum you are. He takes you as you are––on your back with your legs draped over his big, broad shoulders.
His cock drives in and out of you, alternating between fast and slow, his balls slapping against your ass and his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every thrust. Shiu watches on the other end of the couch, lighting himself a cigarette. Your weak moans are drowned out by his loud grunts and the slapping of skin against skin as he fucks you into the couch. 
“You like that, little girl?” he grunts, staring down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You like how Daddy fucks this pussy?” His hand, big and veiny, shoots down to grap your throat. He squeezes it as he fucks you, making you gasp. “God, you look so good like that,” he groans. "Keep that pretty mouth open for me, you little slut. I wanna see that tongue when I cum deep inside you.” 
He leans down suddenly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. “How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?” he murmurs to you. “Your friends must’ve known how slutty you are to have pulled this off.” 
You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is weakly moan and whimper as Toji drives you closer and closer to your final orgasm of the night, your clit overstimulated and twitching. “Gonna cum,” you whisper, tears of desperation pricking your eyes.
Toji nods encouragingly, driving his cock faster and faster inside of you. “Cum on this dick, little girl,” he demands. “Give it to me. Give all of it to me, now.” And you do. Your orgasm hits you before you realize it, but all you can let out is a silent gasp as you cream all over Toji’s cock. 
He doesn’t stop fucking you, even when your walls squeeze so enticingly around him and your mouth looks so pretty wide open like that that he shoves his fingers inside of it, letting you suck on the digits. His grunts grow louder and more guttural as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm, driving you up against the couch.
“Gonna cum,” he warns. “Gonnacumgonnacumgonna fuckin’ cum!” He yells the last two words before he lets out a deep growl as he sprays his cum deep, deep, deep inside of you, mingling with Shiu’s and all of the other men before him. You gasp at the warm, wet feeling as he orgasms, his large hands gripping your hip and throat as he slowly rolls his hips, chasing his orgasm, before he finally stops. He sighs in satisfaction, drawing his dick out of you and letting his cum drip out of your twitching, used, puffy pussy. 
Finally. Finally, they’re done. You don’t think you can go on much longer. But with the way Toji and Shiu are looking at you, you can tell that they still have more plans for you. “Need…rest,” you pant, your eyes fluttering with exhaustion. But Toji tuts, gently scooping you up into his big arms.“Uh-uh, little girl,” he tuts. “You’re not done quite yet. We still need to cover you, don’t we? Make sure you remember this Christmas Eve forever.” 
You’re too tired to understand what’s happening at first when Toji carries you away from the couch. But when he lowers you down on the floor near the dozens of glory holes where hard cocks dangle from, you understand exactly what’s happening. So you sit with your knees together and your palms in your lap, face tilted up, eyes closed, and panting mouth open, waiting the loads that you will soon be given. Toji and Shiu stand before you, pumping their dicks in your face, their grunts and moans mingling with the others’ behind the walls. 
Finally, with a chorus of moans, whines, groans, and other sex, porn-worthy sounds of climax, every single cock you have taken tonight shoots their loads all over you––your face; your mouth; your tits; your chest; your stomach; even your back and ass. You are completely covered in cum. You are sticky and wet with it, already feeling it dry on your skin and the many different scents staining you like tattoos. 
Finally, your men are satisfied and so are you. “Thanks for such a fun night, cutie,” Satoru giggles from behind the wall. “You were so good for us!” You can barely manage to smile. 
After Toji and Shiu leave (after making sure you’re not dead and proposing you do this again sometime), you kick off your heels, strip off what is left of your dress, and crawl to the shower where you wash off the sweat, cum, and memories of tonight. The hot water rinses the nut, tears, and makeup off of your face, making you feel brand new. As you step out of the shower, you smell of lavender soap and steam. You are silent as you put on the bathrobe left for you, processing everything that has just happened. 
You just visited a glory hole. You just participated in a gang bang. You just fucked multiple men and made them cum. 
When you walk out of the bathroom, there is a sudden knock on the door and you startle. “It’s me!” Shoko calls through the door. All of the men are gone, having left earlier to give you privacy and rest. You walk to the door and open it, revealing Shoko with smudged lipstick and a strap from her dress hanging down her shoulder. She definitely enjoyed herself tonight too.
“Hey, you!” she brightly chirps. “Just came to check on you and tell you we’re about to head out. I think our hour is up.” 
She looks you up and down in your robe and knowingly smirks to herself. “Sooo how’d you enjoy yourself for your first time at a glory hole?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. 
There is only one single thought swimming around in your foggy mind that is still coming down to Earth from cloud nine and above, too busy thinking about what other fine ass men you can meet and delicious things you can experience in this sinful yet glorious place: 
“Can we come again next Christmas?” 
THE END.
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selfindulgentpixies · 8 months
Text
Soothing words and decaf
Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot
When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes
You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious  had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern. 
“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.
You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.” 
He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes. 
“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up. 
You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold. 
Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day. 
You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.
Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar. 
You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.
“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice. 
You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”
A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.” 
“Seriously you both should-” 
“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks. 
You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.” 
Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.
Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are. 
You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.” 
Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed. 
“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.
“You’re squishing me, you big menace!” 
The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “ 
Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.” 
“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to. 
You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch. 
“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.
“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach. 
You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.
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