Chase the Shadows
Pairing: Gojo x Fem Reader
CW: light smut(-ish. Kind of..) Minors DNI, explicit and suggestive language
Note: Reader and Gojo are in an established relationship. This is part of my JJK Street Racer AU.
“You can’t compete with him, Gojo. Do you have any idea how much shit he has under that hood? Paid it all with daddy’s money and he’ll smoke you with it too.” It’s rare for Sukuna to sound this concerned about his friend. Usually apathetic to all of Gojo’s chaotic antics, but tonight is different. The two men are standing near Gojo’s car and waiting for the official call that the roads have been cleared to start the race. Gojo had pissed off Naoya earlier that week (some ill-timed insult about Naoya’s small dick or something like that) and instead of Naoya’s men shooting Gojo’s brains out, they decided to settle their squabble with a race.
Sukuna continues to chastise him “It also doesn’t help that you’ve only done cosmetic mods to this car.”
“Eh, it’s not about the engine. It’s about who’s driving the engine. And that happens to be Gojo Satoru. No need for performance updates. I’ll smoke his ass in a slow car, and I’ll look fucking cool doing it too.” arrogance is practically dripping from Gojo’s voice.
“This isn’t Fast and Furious, man. A slow car is still a slow car. Your driving skills aren’t suddenly going to make it go faster.”
Gojo lowers his blacked-out shades and peers at his friend through the tops of them, crystal eyes glinting with mirth. “You say that like I haven’t smoked you in a slow ass car before.” Sukuna scoffs at that, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You only won that race because my clutch slipped.”
“Excuses, excuses” Gojo teases, “Besides, who says cosmetic mods can’t make a car go faster? I swear Geto’s art gives me a speed boost.”
“You are so going to lose this race and I almost pity anybody stupid enough to bet on you tonight.” The streets around them are filled with people, more than the usual street race. It definitely can be attributed to the reputations of the two men racing. Gojo has been at the top of almost every race for the past year. His fame amongst the Tokyo street circuit spread quickly, and whenever he races, people always come to gawk. Naoya’s immoral rep, and the Zenin name itself attract a fair share of spectators too. Not to mention the streets tonight are crawling with his men. Scantily clad women crowd the streets and occasionally pass by Gojo and Sukuna; loud music and the revving of cars fill the gaps in their conversation.
“Speaking of betting, where the hell is Toji? I can’t believe he actually agreed to let you race Naoya.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder, eyes sweeping his surroundings to find the older man. When he can’t spot him, Sukuna lets out a few curses. “Don’t fuckin tell me… you didn’t tell Toji about this?!”
Gojo has the nerve to look slightly sheepish “...uhh well I didn’t thi-”
“Shut up, man. You’re racing the heir to one of the biggest Yakuza groups in the fuckin country and you didn’t tell your fucking manager?!” AND You’re driving it in a ride that’s basically a glorified Hot Wheel. How stupid are you?”
Gojo’s lack of response spurns Sukuna on, “Please tell me you didn’t bet any money, or at least any of Toji’s money.”
“No! I am offended you think that I’m that thoughtless. Of course I didn’t bet any of Toji’s money. That would have been asking for a death sentence... money-hungry old man” Gojo mutters the last bit under his breath.
“Fine. Whatever. Since you didn’t bet any of his money, and I know you're flat out of cash right now, what did you bet?”
If Gojo looked sheepish before, now he looks downright guilty. His eyes flicker over to where you’re standing talking to a group of girls and then they shoot away nervously.
Sukuna catches all of this, his gaze narrowing. “You bastard.” Sukuna almost whispers. “You’re betting your girl?”
“Well… she’s the only thing Naoya was interested in. He refused cash and my car so it was the only option.”
“Does she know about this?”
Gojo’s silence is deafening.
“You’re fucking slimy. Absolute bastard, asshole, and a dickhead. Can't believe I’m friends with you.”
“Oh please don’t act like you’re any better, Sukuna.” Gojo lets out a mocking laugh. “You’d do the same thing if you were in my place and we both know it. You’re a glutton for adrenaline too.”
“No, I wouldn’t. If Naoya ever laid eyes on my girl, there wouldn’t even need to be a race. I’d send him driving back in a fucking ambulance.”
“Well, none of this even matters! Because I told you, I’m going to win.” There’s shouting from the race moderators, letting the crowd and drivers know that the race will begin in five minutes.
“I’ll see you on the other side” Gojo winks at Sukuna. “With my girl and Naoya’s McLaren.”
You suddenly run up to Gojo, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “Good luck Satoru!” You sling your arms around his neck.
“No need for it, princess! But I’ll take your kisses anyway” Gojo greedily slots his lips over yours, hand running down your back to the base of your ass. You giggle as Gojo gives it a slight squeeze, and he smiles against your lips. He gives you one last peck and straightens up.
“Please be a little bit careful, Satoru. I know Naoya races dirty.” You warn, hands coming to rest on his forearms.
As Gojo starts to respond, the revving of a car interrupts him and loud cheers fill the air. Naoya parks his car at the starting line and gets out. The street lights illuminate his bare back and the unnerving tattoo that snakes around his torso. He lifts up his arms, stirring up shouts from the crowd again. You shiver at the sight of him. “Satoru, I’m not joking. He’s dangerous.”
“I know that better than anyone.” Gojo‘s look seems serious, but there’s a hint of pride laying underneath. “He likes to think he’s good. Unfortunately, no amount of daddy’s money can substitute for pure talent.” He swings his car door open and plops into the driver’s seat. He rolls down both windows and levels you with a sultry gaze. “I’m expecting a congratulatory prize after this.” he winks at you and you roll your eyes knowing exactly what he's insinuating.
“Ok hotshot, win the damn race first and then we’ll talk.” With that, Gojo whips his car around to the starting line and pulls up next to Naoya’s McLaren F1. Naoya is back in his car and sneers at Gojo through his open window.
“I hope y/n is prepared to be warming my bed tonight. Or maybe I should say my hood. She’s so irresistible, I’ll fuck her over my car as soon as I win the race. I’ll make you watch, and give you a few pointers on how to please your next woman.” Naoya takes glee in the way Gojo’s hands tighten around his wheel.
Gojo’s shades are perched low on his nose, and he glances at Naoya across his car. “All I’m thinking about is how nice she’ll look when I’m fucking her in the McLaren I’m about to win.” With that, Gojo rolls up his windows effectively shutting out any reply from Naoya. He revs his car, heating the engine and provoking Naoya at the same time.
After parting with Gojo, you had joined Sukuna and Geto where the other spectators stood on the side of the road. The roar of both engines filled your ears and your eyebrows scrunched in worry. It wasn’t that you doubted Gojo- you’d never seen him lose a race to anyone other than Sukuna- but something felt different this time. The drop in your heart must have been evident in your expression because Geto reached over and squeezed your hand. It was impossible to say anything with the combined noise of the crowd and the engines. You looked up and gave him a strained smile and then locked eyes onto Gojo’s car.
‘Please let Satoru be okay’ you think. You have no idea what was on the line, but knowing Naoya’s involvement in the yakuza you knew it had to be something valuable.
A flag girl walks between the two cars for the countdown of the race. As she waves the flag to indicate the start, the drivers accelerate causing the tires to screech against the asphalt. They both have a smooth start and tear across the road to begin the 16-kilometer circuit that’ll wind throughout Tokyo and loop back to where they started.
The dust settles and the ringing in your ears fade. “Well”, Sukuna mumbles with a cigarette stuck in between his lips “that’s as strong of a start as any. Too bad you didn’t slice one of Naoya’s tires earlier, Geto.” He pulls the cigarette away from his lips and lets out a cloud of smoke.
“Oh yeah, like that would have helped Gojo’s situation out. Pulling something like that before a race like this is asking for a bullet in the head. He’ll be fine. He always is.” Geto gives your hand another squeeze and this time you return it.
“I wish they had markers set up throughout the circuit. I don’t wanna wait till the last kilometer to see their positions.” You’re squinting, attempting to see the two cars in the distance although their silhouettes have already been swallowed by the Tokyo skyline.
“Here, I’ll narrate for you princess.” Sukuna’s gruff voice is directly in your ear as he bends down a little. “The shitty daddy’s boy is going to pull some illegal move….. hmmm probably try to crash Satoru a few times.” Your eyes widen as Sukuna continues talking, the smell of nicotine invading your nose, “Gojo’ll probably bang-up his own car in the process trying to dish it back to Naoya...maybe get himself killed and then-”
You cut Sukuna off, pushing his chest away from your body. You scowl at him. “You’re an asshole, Sukuna.”
He throws back his head and laughs with his whole body “I get that from your boyfriend y’know.”
After a while, the familiar roar of engines sounds in the distance and you feel your stomach drop as the two cars drift through the last turn. They’re pushing through the last kilometer when the crowd of people start yelling.
“He’s ahead!” You’re shouting and leaning as far into the road as you dare. Geto’s got a firm grip on your shoulder preventing you from falling into the street. You take a quick look at Geto, and his dark eyes are filled with delight.
“Not by much, but looks like he’s still gaining speed.”
“Slick bastard.” Sukuna flings his cigarette onto the street, a smirk is stretching the corner of his lips. They speed through the finish line, Gojo one car length ahead of Naoya. The crowd is going absolutely wild and rushing onto the road, hoping to get a glimpse of the action that’ll inevitably occur between the two men. You make to run to Gojo’s car when Geto’s hand suddenly pulls you back.
“Wait a bit, angel.” His tone is protective, and his grip tightens on you. “You don’t want to get into the middle of that fight. And you don’t want to be around Naoya. Ever.” He’s looking at you, deathly serious now. And as you’re scanning his features, there seems to be an ounce of fear buried underneath.
Gojo drifts his car in a half-circle and drives back near the finish line. His door flies open and he emerges from the car, one long leg stretched out after the other. His hair is running wild, and he’s got a maniacal grin set on his face. He looks back at Naoya who’s stumbling out of his car and stalking towards Gojo.
“You piece of shit, Satoru.” The words tear through Naoya’s throat, eyes set in ablaze. “What the hell did you put under that hood. There’s no way you gained that much on me in the last kilometer.”
Gojo laughs in his face, looking down at Naoya. “Like I’d ever tell you my secrets, Zenin. Now hand over my keys.” Naoya tosses them straight at Gojo’s face, but he snatches them with quick reflexes. Gojo lets out a whistle, body turned towards his new car “Mannn I’m going to enjoy the sex in this one.”
There’s pure, unadulterated malice in the look Naoya gives him. “Watch your back Satoru. Your luck will run out one of these days, and when it does I’ll personally send you to hell.”
Gojo places the new keys in the pocket of his jacket. “I’m sure you will, and if that happens I’ll drag you down with me.” Naoya sends him one last dirty look before joining his men and disappearing from the track.
“Toru!!” You’re running full speed at your boyfriend and he just manages to turn in time, before you fling yourself into his chest. “Oh my god” you’re laughing and when you look up into Gojo’s face, the lights from the street frame your features. “You totally smoked his ass. And by a whole car length too!”
Gojo chuckles alongside you “Did you forget who you’re dating? The king of fucking street racing, princess.” And with that, he grabs your wrist and tugs you to the McLaren he just won with a slight skip in his step. His boyish enthusiasm excites a round of giggles from you as you trail behind him.
You vaguely catch Geto utter “here they go again.'' Before Gojo swings you around and pushes his hips against yours. “Time to commemorate my... no our new baby” and you laugh against Satoru’s lips as he backs you up onto the hood. He slides your butt up with one firm hand on your hips and braces his other next to your face. You’re laying back fully now, Gojo’s stature is blocking out the moon and your attention is on the restless energy emanating from his body.
Gojo leans his face in closer and steals a kiss from you. It's sloppy; all the adrenaline from the race coursing through his lips. You immediately allow him access, and he greedily accepts. There’s an urgency in the way he sucks and nips at your tongue.
“Toruuu” you pull back with a whine.
“Fuck it.” He murmurs. There is a fire ablaze in his face and he roughly pulls you off the hood. “Get in the car. Time to get outta here.”
He tosses the keys of his old car to Geto. “Take it back to the shop for me, Suguru. I might’ve scraped up the paint a bit too.”
“Of course you did.” Geto gives his friend an annoyed look, but there’s no real anger in his voice.
Gojo puts the keys into the ignition, and the engine turns on with a purr. “Fuuuck, it sounds almost as sexy as you babe.”
“Gojo if you compare me to a car ever again, I’m dumping your ass and you can get yourself off with a steering wheel.” Your side-eye is sharp enough to cut, but Gojo just cackles.
“Hmmm, I’ve never tried that before. Think ya could give me a lesson before you leave though?”
“Can't believe I ever agreed to date you.” You murmur under your breath looking out the window in irritation. Despite his joking words, Gojo links your fingers and rubs soft circles against the top of your hand. He’s speeding through Tokyo now, one hand on the wheel. He seems at ease but you can tell he’s on edge still- probably antsy to get back to his apartment and fuck you into tomorrow.
He’s weaving in and out of traffic, downtown Tokyo getting closer and closer. It’s a familiar setting, Gojo in the driver’s seat, the city lights casting blues and reds across the dashboard. It’s almost enough to put you at ease, but this time the air is filled with something else. A tension that clings to Gojo’s shoulders and lays plainly across his face. It’s unlike him but you don’t comment on it, opting for caressing his hand instead.
You quickly make it to his apartment building, and Gojo swerves the car into the closest parking spot. He runs over to your side, rips open the door, and pulls you out with both hands. He’s almost pushing you to the doors of the elevator at this point.
“Slow down Satoru, we have all night.”
“That’s not enough time, it’ll never be enough.” You would’ve laughed at his childish statement if it weren’t for the last bit he mutters and your ears barely catch it. You ride up the elevator and stumble into his apartment, Gojo’s hands running all over your body. “Bedroom.” He mumbles against your neck, trailing sloppy kisses all up your jaw. “Wanna fuck you right.”
He leads you into his bedroom and tears at your shirt, ripping it over your head. He reattatches his lips to your neck and begins to suck. You’re pushing at Gojo’s shoulders trying desperately to rid him of his jacket, but the taller man is leaning his weight on you, and it’s impossible to even move. Gojo’s lips move over yours as he pushes you onto the bed. He’s hovering over you and you take the opportunity to grab at his crotch, giving it a slight squeeze. Gojo growls into your mouth, his hands tightening on the bed sheets above your head. You use the distraction to stick your tongue in his mouth, trying desperately to gain some sort of dominance. He tastes lightly of cotton candy, probably from the lollipop he was sucking on earlier.
Gojo’s breaks away, hands trail down your body. Once they reach the top of your skirt, he rids you of them and your underwear in one go. “Fucking beautiful” he whispers against the skin of your thigh. You buck your hips slightly trying to encourage him to speed up his pace.
“Please, Satoru- need you.” Your eyes slide shut as he trails his lips back up your thigh and to your stomach.
“Patience, princess.” his warm breath, makes you shiver and your hands come up to tug at his hair. Gojo obliges and brings his head back up to yours, hovering for just a second. All of a sudden he lowers his hips and simultaneously grinds once into your cunt as he kisses you.
You pull at his pants. “Satoru, I need to feel you, please.'' He leans back from your body and strips off his shirt and jeans. Your eyes are racking up the plains of his pale skin, and you reach out to his shoulders to bring him down closer. His kisses are getting sloppier and sloppier and his grinding is getting more intense. Gojo starts mumbling and lost in your pleasure you can’t make out what he’s saying. Until he lets out a particularly loud curse, and in your haze you catch one sentence.
“Fucking Naoya, I’d never let him have you.” Your entire body shivers and it’s not because of Gojo’s increased pace. You look up at him and his eyes are unfocused.
“Satoru..what.” You can barely speak, body stiffening. “What’d you mean ‘let him have me’?” Gojo stills and his eyes focus on an area above your head, a guilty expression present on his face.
At his remorseful look, it suddenly all clicks in your brain. Gojo’s antsy attitude this morning- How he never gets like that before a race. You just brushed it off as nerves from never racing Naoya before. The way he was still nervous even after the race was over, as if he was relieved. All of the tell-tale signs begin to make more sense.
“You bet me.” Your whisper grazes across Gojo’s lips and his eyes slide shut, his head hanging a little. “You told Naoya he could have me if you lost? Gojo are you kidd-“ tears start to prick at your eyes and Gojo suddenly opens his eyes as he interrupts you.
“Never.” He staring at you with a sincerity you’ve never seen him display before. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb catching a stray tear. “I’d never let him touch you. And if I had lost, I would’ve shot everyone in the Zenin yakuza starting with Naoya and his cheap dye-job.”
Something about Satoru threatening to kill one of the most powerful men in Tokyo turns you on even more. You wrap an arm around his neck and buck your hips, encouraging him to start moving again. “He’d have to chase us into the shadows before I’d ever let him lay a hand on you.” Gojo’s head is right up against your ear.
Despite his rash decision and asshole attitude that got him in the situation in the first place, you know in your heart that Satoru would never bargain you off like a piece of property. Your boyfriend is more distraught than you’ve ever seen him. Probably thinking that you’ll dump him for not telling you about the bet. You’ve been through too much together to do that though. Your heart beats wildly as you think might even love him too much. A sigh escapes your lips, forgiving him instantly and carding your fingers through his hair for reassurance “Im here Toru. You won. I’m not going anywhere.” You pull at his white locks, dragging his head to your lips. He captures them in a seething kiss.
“I’m sorry” he whispers, pulling back. “I should have told you.”
“Yea... But it doesn’t matter anymore Toru. You kicked his ass. And you looked fucking hot doing it too. ” The tension suddenly dissipates and Gojo lets out a sincere laugh.
“God, I fucking love you.” You’re shocked for a second before you push at his shoulders to switch your positions.
“What’re you doing, princess?” Gojo is admiring this new view of you above him, straddling his hips.
You lean down and with a nip at his ear lobe you whisper, “Giving you your congratulatory prize, hotshot.”