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minimomoe · 3 days ago

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Songs for You

Pairing: rock star! Satoru Gojo x Female Reader

Summary: Gojo has everything he wants as the world's top charting musician, and he knows exactly who he needs as his partner. Seriously, the red string of fate tied to your pinky proves it, but he seems to be the only one who can see the connection. Being with a rockstar is hard enough with all the fame, but what happens when other elements get thrown in the mix?

Tags: MDNI!, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), choking, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, slight angst, cheating (walk with me I promise it's not what it looks like), rockstar!Gojo, Gojo is absolutely whipped, red string of fate trope

Wrd ct: 8.1k

Song inspo: Parody- Yves Tumor

oneshot for @ayyy-pee Jujutsu Journal collab!

He felt your presence before spotting you. It was amazing how it worked, the red string of fate. Even if you were nowhere to be seen, he could seek you out if he closed his eyes and focused a little harder. The flashing lights around him and the earpiece counting in his brain should have been distractions enough, but still Gojo searched for you in the sea of people. He wondered if you were sitting in a private booth, or jumping with the masses. Sweat dripped into his eyes, the screams of the crowd thundered all around him, cheering him on, singing along, fueling him.

Satoru Gojo was a fucking star.

His lips pressed flush against the microphone, kissing it as he whined his lyrics. When he looked down at his hands strumming away at his guitar he saw the string drifting away to his left. You were close. So close your presence stuck on his skin. Did you know the song was a fruit of his adoration for you? Gojo knew that other people would take his song and use it for their own personal reasons. Weddings, anniversaries, other couple milestones. They could say how the song reminded them of their partner, but it’s for you. About you. You if he had to describe you in sound waves. That’s how it’s always been. Any song worth a damn that he wrote had your essence etched in between the lyrics.

Brown chocolate eyes

Freezing me between the sheets

Isn’t it sweet?

Tear me down to pieces

Brown chocolate eyes

Leading me throughout the dark

You hold my heart

Tear me down to pieces

Vague enough to please his record label and the masses, but always, always in reference to you. Sweat was getting in his eyes but he didn’t need them to sing or play the guitar anymore, it was all muscle memory to him. He imagined the last time he saw you, a few months ago when he flew you out to Paris to stay with him for a weekend. It was nighttime when you arrived, and when you finally settled in he was eating you out with the Eiffel tower glittering behind you in the hotel room. The next day he fucked seven ways from Sunday and took you shopping then wine and dined you the second night. The European leg of his tour was more spread out than all the other ones, and he had just enough hours to spare to devote to you. Gojo was especially lucky that time because you usually turn him down.

“I’m not going to answer every single international bootycall from you,” you’d tell him. He knows you have a life outside of him, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying when you aren’t available to him. The string that connected the two of you lets him know that if he actually put the effort into being a good partner for you it would work out great. He’d often look down at his pinky petulantly upset that he couldn’t use it to drag you by his side.

You’d hate that, but at the very least he’d know exactly where you are. You were his soul mate, but things were too busy at the moment, and you never mentioned wanting more from him. You seemed content with the bits you got of Gojo, oftentimes leaving him behind in the bed blissfully fucked out while you got ready to go back home.

Gojo imagined how you looked the whole time he was on stage. Every note that left his mouth was a call for you, every salacious show of his tongue and skin. He was going to give the people what they came for, but he was still searching for you. He was itching to get to the final minutes, his body sglistening and the whole stadium thrumming with energy. With the thundering sound of applause he took his leave and was whisked away by his team to get ready to head to his hotel, promptly ignoring any requests to meet personally with anybody. Gojo had only one goal in mind when he had his phone and shot off a text to you telling you that his people would escort you.

He was back in your city, back in your gaze, and finally, back in your arms.

“How you feeling, superstar?” You smiled at him when he got into the hotel room. Your lips were shiny with lip gloss, lined in black but filled with a dark brown. Those big brown eyes he was just singing about on stage were giving him a sultry stare. They looked brighter than usual, your heavy black liner drawing out all the color in them. Gojo bounced his focus between your lips and eyes, settling for your lips and he wondered how it would taste.

“Good. Great, even,” he beamed. “How’s my number one fan?”

“Not really sure if you can call me your number one fan,” you said, slipping out his arms before he wanted to let you go. You walk to the bench in front of the bed and Gojo can finally take in the outfit you were wearing. A black leather dress that clung to your curves and laced up in the back, cinching your waist when you turned to face him. You sat on the chair and crossed your legs. The heels you wore proved that you had to be in a private section. There was no way you were standing up all night in them. It’s almost like you dressed up for him. The thought of you standing in front of a mirror contemplating which outfit to wear to see him made his cock twitch. Gojo licked his lips looking at your legs. The smooth brown skin moisturizer till glimmering made his heart race. Did he want to have you with the shoes on or off? Decisions, decisions.

“Why’s that?”

“There’s people who have spent far more money on you than I have. Your team always sends me your stuff. It’s like I get first pick before everybody else,” you explained.

“That’s how it should be.”

Gojo was trying so hard to actually hear the words coming out of your mouth instead of staring only at your lips. They were painted such a dark color he was sure it was going to stain his skin. He loved it when that happened. He wore the kiss marks like a badge of honor and was sad to see them washed away in the shower. He was tempted to get the shape of your lips tattooed on his body.

“I got your attention, didn't I? And you never say no,” he hummed.

“I guess I don’t.”

“So what would my number one fan like to hear? I’m taking requests.”

He gave you a cheeky grin, wiggling his eyes suggestively that cracked your indifferent demeanor. You twirled the curl end of your braid while you gave it thought as Gojo walked in front of you. He stopped mere centimeters from the point of your heel and you cocked your head to the side.

“You’re too damn tall. It’s hard to keep looking up,” you grumbled.

There was a very simple, very easy fix to that problem. He dropped to his knees and splayed his arms over your lap, now looking up at you while you rolled your eyes.

“Better?”

“Sure,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I like that song 'Infinite Domain', especially the way you use ‘infinite’ and ‘intimate’ interchangeably.”

Another song he whipped together after spending the night with you. It was supposed to be another standard romping session, but when he visited your apartment dressed head to toe in black and black frames to hide his appearance, you opened the door to him with such heavy bags under your eyes he felt bad for bothering you.

You were dead on your feet yet you wanted to stay up to meet him because you didn’t know when you would see him again, especially since he came to you. He rushed you back inside and… slept. You tried to protest against it, wanting to hear about his day so his visiting wouldn’t be a total waste but Gojo wouldn’t let you. He practically swayed you and held you in his arms, and before long you were snoring in his embrace. You always swore that you do not snore, but there you were, making noise akin to a cat purring and Gojo pulled your bonnet up slightly to kiss your forehead.

There’s a study that says that once you find your significant other, feeling sleepy around them is normal and should be expected. You might’ve been exhausted, but you fell asleep against him with little to no fight. Gojo wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but he woke up to breakfast from you that you both ate in bed, laughing and catching up with each other until his managers were badgering him to get back on the road.

He wrote Infinite Domain there because if he could, he would’ve plucked that moment in time and lived in it forever.

“Of course that one’s your favorite,” he purred. You playfully tugged his hair to get him to shut up.

“I wrote that song with you in mind,” he said. Your hand stilled in his frosty hair. You thought you misheard him and was ready to laugh past it, but he held your wrist to look at you. “All of the songs that reach #1 tend to have one particular muse in mind.”

“Satoru…”

You were teary and wide eyed. Words couldn’t form on your tongue, so all you could do was let out short gasps of surprise.

“I swear, I’m not saying this to fuck with you. I thought you should know since this is all thanks to you.”

“…I don’t even know what to say.”

Gojo put his cheek back on your lap. His skin was sticking to the leather of your dress so he raised his head to push the fabric up, wanting to put his face straight on your warm skin instead. He put your hand back in his hair after.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ve loved you for a long time. Years now. I just thought that you should know.”

Seconds of silence dragged through the two of you. In reality Gojo’s heart was pounding in his chest, desperate to escape and be held by your hands. Performing in front of thousands of people in a sold out arena with cameras recording him from every possible angle? Easiest goddamn thing in the world. Confessing his long time love to a woman who has always said she couldn’t imagine being as famous as him? Someone who said that she doesn’t mind travelling but enjoys living in his hometown more than any other city? Someone who only started going to concerts since he was performing and not because she actually liked going to them?

It scared Satoru shitless.

“I lied. Please say something,” he begged.

“I— I think I love you too.”

Your voice was as soft as mohair, barely above a whisper. He raised his head to face you. Crystalline blue eyes blinked up at honey brown ones.

“You think?” He gasped.

“Yeah?” You giggled. “I should feel nervous. I should be trying to get as much air into my lungs to keep from passing out but I feel calm. You always calm me,” you admitted. “Not what I was expecting when coming here tonight but… I know. I know you love me and I love you too.”

You leaned down to lock lips with Gojo. It was a tender kiss, one that was shy in its approach but blossomed to a familiar warmth, a richer feeling, a new promise. Your eye lashes brushed the top of Gojo’s cheeks, tickling his face and he smiled on your lips.

When you pulled away Gojo followed your mouth until you were too far away and broke the kiss. He had a dopey grin on his face that made you a giggling mess.

“My stomach was in my ass by the way. I thought you were going to reject me.”

“It’s not my fault you waited until you had three critically acclaimed albums before finally confessing your true feelings to me,” you smirked.

Satoru kissed your knees. You smelled of warmth and sugar, like baked sweets with a touch of smoky spiciness. He moved from your knees to the top of your thighs, his kisses getting slower and more open mouthed when he talked.

“I wanted to give you time. Get you to fall deeper to maybe, possibly, finally match my feelings.”

He pried your legs open to make space for himself. You allowed him to, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watched the musician go down on you. He was no longer just pressing wet indentions on your skin, but left slightly red marks of suction behind. Gojo’s nose was filled with the heady scent of your mounting arousal and he didn’t hide the way his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Who says I’m not already there? I could love you more,” you challenged. The temperature of your skin was rising rapidly, and the searing touch of Satoru’s tongue only stoked the flames. You were already aching for him. One of your legs was bent at his shoulder, giving him easier access to your cunt that pulsed with anticipation.

“Which one of us has a Grammy? I practically won an award for loving you. Can’t beat that.”

“Show off!” You gasped at the end of your sentence. His mouth found your lips, dripping once he snatched your panties out of his way. All that could be heard is his tongue parting your folds and his lips smacking on your clit. You combed your fingers back through his hair, gripping his scalp when you felt a particular close brush with an orgasm, but Gojo was nothing if not a tease. He loved to have you beg for him in that syrupy voice, the one that you reserved specifically for moments like this. You were breathless, aching for a release, making a mess on his tongue. Your thighs doubled as earmuffs, muffling the moans that tumbled out of your mouth which meant that he had to work twice as hard to make sure that he could hear you twice as loud.

“God, Toruuu. I’m gonna–”

“Come for me? That was quick,” he smiled.

He bit the soft flesh on the innermost part of your thigh and you threw your head back. He slipped two fingers inside and was met with little resistance. It has been months since he last was inside of you but you welcomed him readily. His own cock hardened in his pants, and if he wasn’t so focused on you he would be stroking himself to the rhythm of your whines. Everything about you turned him on; from your scent, to your body, to your smile, you were a goddess of beauty and he was a lucky worshipper.

“Is nobody else taking care of you? It feels like you’re about to snap my fingers off.” His digits found your spot easily, and it was his turn to watch your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Gojo’s name fell from your mouth like a sacred prayer reserved specifically for heavenly beings. The wavering in your voice was a tell tale sign of how close you were.

“No. No, just you. Only you,” you admitted.

Nobody else could satisfy you in his absence. You tried dating, but it never made it to the bedroom. You made excuses, suddenly claiming abstinence only to touch yourself with your favorite toys and the thought of Satoru, his smile, his body, his voice. Something always held you back from straying too far away from him, and with the mischievous angel between your legs you felt like you were finally being rewarded for your patience. His lips formed a tight seal around your overstimulated bud and you bucked into his mouth. The same tongue that could charm a room of people was pulling you apart thread by thread, ensuring that you could only be satisfied by him and you relished in it.

Your ass lifted off the bench when you came. Heaping waves of arousal crashed into you, only permitting you to choke out “Satoru” in broken and breathless syllables. That wouldn’t stop his relentless mouth or hands though. He hooked his hand under his hips to shove his face deeper into your sex during your orgasm, giving you no rest and multiplied the shocks that wracked your body until you were sobbing.

When the tremors in your legs were few and far between, Gojo fixed you on the bed. His lips were back on yours and you swapped the taste of your come in his mouth. Gojo was as loud as he was needy, moaning at every touch of your hands, guiding them to where he needed the most while he worked on getting you out of your laced up dress. He wanted to take a short cut and rip through the fabric but you have reprimanded him for that type of behaviour before, even when he was able to buy it a million times over.

Satoru’s body flowed seamlessly with yours. In no time he had your dress removed and you watched as he swiftly removed his shirt with your legs loosely resting on his thighs while you laid on your back. The fixtures in the ceilings looked like spotlights, and he loved to put on a show for his favorite patron. Your nails dragged down his abdomen, leaving faint red marks that disappeared as quickly as they came until you got down to his fair happy trail and snapped at the waistband of his underwear.

“Lose this for me,” you ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a million watt smile cracking his face. In no time he was nude,free of anything that could distract his gorgeous skin, his knees back on the bed to put your legs back on the top of his thighs. You leaned on your bent elbows to get a better angle at your new lover. You bit your lips at the sight of his cock, standing straight up for you, the tip a pretty pink.

“Um excuse me, my eyes are up here.”

You rolled your eyes but that didn’t stop the giggle bubbling up your throat. “Yeah but your dick is down there. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“So bossy,” he tsked, but he was already settling between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. You threw your arms above your head and his eyes shone brightly at the sight of your body. “All for me,” he whispered when he slid his length between your folds, dragging out a long hiss from your mouth.

“Satoru, Satoruuu.” Your voice was unapologetically high pitched and you didn’t recognize yourself. There was nothing in this world beside you and the man that you felt overwhelming desire for in every vein in your body. His tip bumped with your clit, over and over again, making you scream out in frustration. You decided to take matters into your own hands, rolling him over to his back and taking his cock in your hands. No more teasing, just you slowly trying to fit his length inside of you. There was no part of Gojo that could be considered small, and the fullness you felt stretching around him proved that this would be no different. It was something that you had to slow down with so that you would hurt yourself, and both of you watched as he disappeared into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” Gojo groaned. You rode him so well, taking no time to pick up the speed and he supported your movements from below. Your clit was slick, his fingers slid over it and he felt your walls clench around him.

“Rub it faster,” you panted. Gojo tore his eyes away from where your bodies were conjoined to your scrunched up face. “Faster, Toru, faster,” you urged. He easily obliged, maintaining the pressure his thumb had on you and circled it faster on the bundle of nerves and you slowed down, grinding your hips into his hands more. “Yessss, yes j-just like that.”

“Why are you slowing down?” He laughed in a strained voice. “Give it to me baby.”

You made a pathetic whiny sound, taking his other hand and putting it on your neck for him to squeeze. Only the sides, careful not to crush your airways but you trusted him enough to be in control of that. Gojo sat up still seated deep inside of you, his own strokes getting shorter and jagged, and ran his tongue over your mouth. It was ravenous, not allowing you to shy away from any part of you but Lord knows that it was too late for that. You were undeniably Satoru’s.

From the first time Gojo had sex with you he knew he would never go to anybody else. You gave yourself completely up to him, letting him do what he wanted to your body and he took the responsibility very seriously. In return, he got to explore the deepest parts of you, mind and body, without restrictions.

“Look at me,” he purred, waiting for your tear lined eyes to flutter open and stare back at him. Those eyes that he has written songs about swallowed his image in them. It would seem impossible but Gojo got harder at the sight of you. At this point you were doing nothing more than humping on each other, but with how deep he was inside you didn’t need much for him to reach your spot. Your moans vibrated in your throat and into his hands and he smiled.

“Tell me how I’m doing, baby. Don’t cheap out on me.”

It was an unfair request. He knew that when he was fucking you like this you didn’t have any words to say, and it wasnt from a lackluster performance. He enjoyed it, the choked sobs that came before the choppy sentences as you complimented him. You released all of your inhibitions and he was left with you who was too overwhelmed to explain, only feel. Your eyes rolled back into your head when his tongue tasted your flesh, lapping at your throat when he removed his hand and lifted you up to lay you on your back once again.

“No feedback?” He said in faux disappointment. “I can tell you how I’m feeling,” he groaned. “I want to live inside of you if I can.” His words got airy from every thrust. He brushed your braids out of your face. He didn’t want to miss a single expression that flitted through your face. You were in the throes of passion and it was all because of him. “Never leave this place,” he grunted. “Tell me you feel the same.”

You nodded your head vigorously, your words still failing you. To your utter dismay he pulled out from you completely, taking his warmth that shrouded you and you cried out.

“Come back,” you begged, and you didn’t have to wait for long. Your wish was always his command. Gojo aimed to please, but the truth was that he wanted to taste you again. Your wetness dripped over the bedding, was all over his thigh, permeating the air with a heady scent. It crazed him, hungry for more and his tongue lapped at your entrance with reckless abandon. Gojo finally stroked himself in tandem to your moans. Your fingers found their home in his hair once again, pushing, pulling, rocking and shoving him, doing whatever you needed to get off and he let you. Obscenities mixed with saccharine praises was what he was looking for from you. The ones that you could barely get out. You rode his face to oblivion, screaming out his name as your orgasm ran through your whole body, shaking the bed with your release.

You were breathless, spent, still at the top of your high when he slipped back in your pussy, relishing the spasms that gripped him even tighter than before and pushed your knees up to your chest. He allowed one of your legs to lay flat on the bed, as flat as could be, splitting you open so that he could reach the very end of you, unabashedly moaning on top of you.

Gojo’s weight crushed you but you welcomed it. Your nails sank into the flesh in his back. It would leave bright red marks that would stay for days. You made more space for him between your legs, wanting to pull him impossibly closer, moving from his back to cupping the sides of his face.

“To—Toru? Come inside me, baby. You fuck me so good you should leave me with something. Come on Satoru, don’t you want to fuck a baby in me? I need— shit— harder Toru, please.”

You clawed at him on his back again, your words spurring him like a madman. Ever the pleaser Gojo went harder, his length reaching the end of you, scraping your g-spot until you quivered around him.

Gojo growled in your ear, “You want my come? A baby with me? You should’ve led with that.”

Gojo pinned your wrists above your head, watching the hand with the string connecting your pinkies disappear as he laced his fingers in that hand. He was holding out as best as he could to have you come first again, but you kept begging him to go harder, deeper, until his thighs ached from exertion and you were arching your back of the mattress like a woman possessed. Maybe the French were onto something when they called orgasms “little deaths”. His release was white hot, everything he needed and lost inside of you. He would die a hundred times more if he got to do it with you.

It felt like hours before either one of you were able to move, and it was Gojo first. He had to peel his body off of you, the sweat and come mingled together in a sticky mess. When he tried to pull out you protested, hooking your leg around his waist and gripping his ass.

“Don’t. Move,” you muffled. “Let me keep you warm for a little longer.”

Gojo plopped back down on you. It didn’t take much to convince him, he could stay like this as long as you wanted to. You smoothed his undercut, the hair shorter and spikier than the rest on top and tingled against your palm. Gojo’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, the performance from earlier tonight and between your legs finally catching up to him. Before sleep could completely take him under, he mumbled in your ear about how much he loved you, singing a short song you were sure he just made up. You laugh as his words slur together and kiss the shell of his ear.

“I love you too, Satoru.”

But it is not easy to be with an enigma.

Weeks have passed since you and Satoru agreed to make things official. Nothing changed much besides the constant phone calls that you two shared. Figuring the time differences was tricky at first, but you were willing to lose a couple of hours of sleep if it meant that you got to hear his voice directly in your ear after a long day. He sent you gifts nonstop, postcards, perfumes, handbags, jewelry. Anything and everything that reminded you of him, and he let you know why with notes attached to the boxes. Now that you were together, Gojo saw no need to hold back. It was his way to make up for the physical distance he always put you in.

And it was great, amazing even, until one morning you were rushing to get ready for work. You had no idea why your alarms didn’t go off, but you were dealing with the loss of thirty minutes to work with. Still feeling the grogginess behind your eyes despite the extra sleep you turned on your living room TV on some morning program, using the cheery anchors’ voices to keep you up.

“Onto pop culture. Junko, take it from here.”

“Thank you, Sandra. Last night was the 75th award ceremony for the…”

You walked back into your bathroom, the voices humming low behind you but enough to keep you pushing. You did your skincare, makeup, put on your work clothes before walking back past the TV. You admired some of the gorgeous gowns of your favorite celebrities for their award speeches and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume while you made breakfast in the kitchen.

“It’s springtime, the flowers are blooming and so are new relationships. This morning, award winning actress Iori Utahime posted a picture of her holding a hand of what looks like pop rock sensation Satoru Gojo’s, the caption only being a red heart. Fans have deduced this information by the ring worn on the other hand. It is the same ring gifted from the top jeweler in the country for his 23rd birthday, which is the only one like it to exist in the world. It has been a dream of many that such a power couple would unite, and trending tags are already imagining a wedding…”

You raced to the TV screen to catch a glimpse of the social media post. Your stomach was in knots when you saw the large, strong hands that have held you many times before wrapped around slimmer, paler, french tipped ones that weren’t yours. Your throat tightened up because with or without the ring, you knew it was Gojo. He had proclaimed his love to you, claimed that you were an inspiration for everything beautiful that he has ever made, yet you were seeing this. On TV. For the whole world to see. It’s like you never existed.

You slumped into your couch. Utahime and Gojo. Gojo and Utahime. Was all those sugar sweet promises he told you fake? Did you get caught up because you wanted it to be real and ignored all the signs? You just couldn’t imagine a world where you got played this badly.

Heavy knowing came from your front door, scaring you out of your trance.

You stomped to the door, ready to lash out on the nearest undeserving person standing outside of your door who just had the nerve to interrupt you at this very moment, just for it to be the devil himself.

Satoru’s smile slid off his face when he saw your despondent expression. Your sadness was quickly heated to anger and you tried to slam the door in his face.

“Fuck you, Satoru. Am I a joke to you?”

He stuck his arm and foot in between the door frame to keep you from closing him out completely. “Just hold on–”

“You said that we’re soulmates and I believed you–”

“And I mean it,” he said, still wedging himself through the door. You saw red welts forming on his skin and stopped pushing as hard but didn’t give him anymore space. “I meant every word.”

“Bullshit,” you spat out.

“Give me a chance to explain, okay? It’s not what it looks like and that’s why I wanted to come see you in person,” he pleaded.

“So what, you can lie to me in person since I’m so goddamn easy to manipulate? The whole world is congratulating you on your new relationship. Go fuck off with Utahime somewhere else, I need to go to work.”

It killed Gojo that you wouldn’t even let him see your face. The glimpse that he saw was red in your nose and had heavy tears lining your eyes. The last thing he ever wanted to do was break your heart. He looked at the string going through the slit in the door, connecting you to him, and he wished that there was a way that he could show it to you. You were truly the only one for him.

“You don’t have work today. It’s a federal holiday,” he reminded you with his forehead touching the wooden door. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I know that this is a lot to take in. I tried calling you before but you didn’t pick up your phone, but I always wanted to talk to you in person.”

There was no response from the other side, which also meant that there was no rejection. Gojo took it as a good sign that you were still listening to him. He had a chance to fix this.

“I brought someone with me who might convince you better.”

Gojo looked over to his friend who had been smoking a cigarette the whole time his arm was nearly chopped off. She dropped the smoke stick, stamping it out on your walkway and leaned closer to carry her voice through.

“You’re Gojo’s girl, right? You don’t know me, but I’m Ieiri Shoko. I am a producer, and I’ve known Satoru and Iori since highschool. I’m also Iori’s girlfriend.”

Gojo glanced at the door hopefully and to his relief you opened it a little wider. A frown was etched onto your face, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“You guys are poly?”

Shoko barked out a laugh that doubled her over. Gojo was quick to clear up the misunderstanding.

“I would never date Gojo!” Shoko gasped.

“No! No, she’s the one actually dating Utahime, not me. Please, just let us in and I’ll explain.”

You panned over from Shoko who wiped the tears off the corner of her eyes and Gojo, who looked like a kicked puppy. More like a kicked great dane, but the sadness was prominent.

You acquiesced, letting them both in and leading them to your living room. The TV was paused on the news anchor’s still, and Gojo could read the headline that you saw. If he could, he would have them all fired for making you upset even if it was largely his fault.

Now inside, you got a good look at Shoko. Silky brown hair framed her face, a mole below her lash line, and when she caught your eyes they were filled with dark circles, like she hasn’t had a good night's rest in weeks. Maybe she hasn’t if she’s been working with Gojo. She gave you a sleepy smile but you were too emotional to return it.

“Talk,” you said through clenched teeth, and the words came tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth while Shoko lounged on the couch.

“It’s the label. They know what social media is saying about Utahime and I, how the fans are convinced that we would make a great couple for years and they decided to put it in practice. Ute can’t stand my ass, but since she has posted that picture we’ve both seen higher engagements. Some songs that have never made it to the charts before are predicted to be in the top 100 by the end of the week. Shoko is her girlfriend, her real partner, but she’s always been private about her relationship so it didn’t take much to switch over to me.”

Shoko slowly nodded her head at Gojo’s explanation. Your arms that were crossed at your chest eventually dropped down to your sides.

“And you’re okay with this?” You asked Shoko in particular.

Shoko shrugged. “Iori is good at her job. Everytime she stars in a new movie I have to watch people lose their minds over her with her co-star for the next six months. This is one of the same.”

Your shoulders relaxed completely when you looked back at Gojo. “So you’re really not cheating on me?”

“I would never do that,” he solemnly promised. “It’s me and you until you say you don’t want me anymore.”

The tears that you were holding back for so long finally fell down your face. You bitterly laughed when wiping them away, and before you knew it Satoru’s hands were cleaning your face.

“I always want you. That’s my problem,” you croaked. “I was just a little angry, I’m sorry.”

Gojo wrapped you in his embrace. With your nose pressed into the middle of his chest, all your stress was alleviated. It was just you and him once again.

“It was my fault. It was sprung on me, but I should have found other ways to warn you. Hearing it on the morning news is a horrible fucking way to find out.” A choked laugh passed your lips. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Can I smoke in here or are you against that?” You peeked at Shoko at the side of Gojo’s arm. You had forgotten all about her once Gojo hugged you. “Um,” you blinked. “I don’t really want the smell to stick. You can go out to the patio, but since both of you guys are here I can whip you something up to eat?”

Shoko gave you another soft grin that you were able to mirror back. “I like you already. Treat her well Satoru, or I’ll beat your ass.”

“Yeah yeah, get out and give me some alone time with my woman.”

Shook took her leave and Gojo cupped your face.

“Aww my poor baby. Your eyes are all puffy now.”

You stood in place while Gojo peppered your face with kisses. It was nice to be doted on so intensely. Your worst fear almost came to life but instead it was Hollywood magic that only a few know what’s really happening behind the scenes.

“How long do you have to do this?”

Gojo pressed his forehead to yours and sighed. The tip of his nose swiped over the surface of your skin, tickling your nose while you awaited a response. “They're only getting two months out of me. I had to fight like hell to reduce it.”

You only frowned at the notion. Higher Up Entertainment has always given Gojo issues when it comes to management, and you were not surprised to find out that it was all their fault. They only comprised of oldheads who are so out of touch with of what their artists really needed they ended up fucking them over more often than guiding them. Gojo has been telling you how he has been working around them, finding ways to break his contract so that he can be independent and you supported his decision completely.

“Everything is numbers to them. They want me to tap into a new audience, and Utahime’s team wants her to have an edgier style for some roles she’s lined up for. It’s all made up.” Gojo’s jaw ticked in annoyance and you rubbed circles in his lower back to try to cool him down.

“I thought shit like this only happened in movies,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess a fabricated relationship only works this well because we are in the age of social media.”

“It does make it easier to fake it, but don’t think it’s real for a second. I am still madly in love with you.”

His words made your heart swell. You turned your face away before it gave away just how giddy his proclamation made you when you were so angry at him less than ten minutes ago, but you couldn’t hide from him for long. The second you tried to put space between your body and his, he tightened his grip on your waist, crooning in your ear while you squirmed in his arms.

“Oh you like that. Wanna hear me say it again? I love you. Way more than you ever can that’s for sure.” In a lower register he whispered in your ear, “I could show you just how much.”

Shivers ran down your spine. Gojo took your earlobe between his teeth and it made you hiss. His long fingers brushed under your shirt, only spreading the goosebumps that riddled your skin. You welcomed his hungry kiss, one that was on the verge of devouring if you weren’t paying attention. His tongue expertly seduced you, making your knees turn to mush and he was practically holding you up while drinking up your moans. You were swayed by his whims that weren’t only just his, you wanted it just as badly; the fistful of his shirt in your hands showed could attest to it. The only thing that stopped you two from fucking right in the living room was the sound of your front door opening back up, which lead to Shoko catching you two sucking on each other’s faces that she disrupted up with a loud cough.

Despite the on-looker Gojo took his time to unwrap himself from you. When he finally dragged his eyes away from your lips he scowled at Shoko. You peeled off of him with your lips feeling raw from his kiss. If Shoko didn’t walk in you weren’t so sure you would have made it to the bedroom with Gojo. The last time you saw him in person was a month ago, and it was very easy for sexual tension to explode on contact.

“Breakfast! I said I was going to make you breakfast,” you mumbled, shaking off the horny fog that clouded your brain. “Any requests?”

“I’m fine with whatever you want to make,” Shoko said gently even when Gojo was staring laser beams through her head. When you made your way to the kitchen she rolled his eyes at the white haired man.

“You always ruin shit for me,” he said pointedly to her.

“You just have shit timing,” she shot back. “Did you explain everything to her or do you have a hard time keeping it in your pants?”

“She knows and understands. She can handle two months and after that I’m hard launching our relationship on all platforms. Everybody’s gonna see her cute little face everywhere I go. I didn’t before because of touring but I can’t let them pull something like this again.”

Shoko nodded in agreement. “Makes sense. I’ve also been thinking about moving to the next level with Iori.”

Gojo raised his brow at his friend. “You mean–”

“I’m gonna propose to her. Just waiting on the ring to be ready.” Shoko revealed the news with a pleased smile to herself before looking up at Gojo. He was in a trance of sorts, looking into a near future where he would propose to you, and in his head you said yes. He needed to make that vision a reality.

“Do not propose to her right now,” Shoko said, effectively pooping his imaginary bubble. She had to be the voice of reason when his mind ran a thousand miles a minute. “You haven’t been dating her for long– I don’t care how long you said you know her.” She raised her hand up before Gojo could interrupt. “This is a lot for her to take in. You had to break down how you're fake dating my girlfriend for engagement. Do. Not. Drop another bomb on her so soon.”

Gojo pouted but couldn’t disagree. It would be too early for you, and even though you seem to be taking his lifestyle in stride, there are moments where it caught up to you. You could handle it in doses, and he wanted to make it as comfortable as he could for you. Gojo put his hand on Shoko’s shoulder shedding his frown for his signature million watt smile.

“Congratulations to you. Can I be the flower boy?”

“No,” she deadpanned.

“You’d be missing out on a great performance.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Food is ready!” You called out from the kitchen and immediately Gojo’s face brightened.

“I won’t let you be the flower girl at our wedding.” He childishly stuck out his tongue at Shoko and she shook her head laughing.

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Three months later

“Gojo! Gojo! Gojo! Now that the world tour is over, what are your next plans?”

“Gojo, is it true that you got casted in a movie with director Nanami Kento?”

“Mr. Gojo, are you going to be attending this year’s Gala?”

Questions bombarded Gojo from all directions. He had been trained enough to not entertain the reporters as he stepped out of his hotel, but they swarmed around him, making a thick sea of people that his bodyguards were having a hard time wading through to get to the car. Gojo wanted nothing more to get inside of it, as his red string was caught between the closed car door, where you were sitting inside. Luckily enough he had his black sunglasses on, ones that were large enough to hide his annoyance and eye rolling.

“Gojo, fans have been curious about your new partner. How did you two meet?”

Finally a question Gojo wanted to answer. He took any chance to talk about you, media training be damned.

“She’s a friend turned lover. The greatest woman to ever exist. You’re looking at my future wife.”

A collective wave of “awwws” came from the crowd and Gojo beamed at them.

“Satoru, some speculate your relationship ended with Iori because you were caught cheating. Others think that this new girl is blackmailing you. The timing is just too close for it to be a normal breakup. What do you have to say about that?”

Everyone quieted down. Camera flashes were few and far between. Gojo scanned for the reporter who asked, and found him with a smug smile on his face. The crowd parted for Gojo when he made his way to the other man, and he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. Gojo towered over him, his head well above the reporter tilted his head so that he could look him in the face instead of his bald spot on top of his head. Fear spiked in the reporter. He was unable to look directly at Gojo and his wild eyes.

“Do you think that I am being blackmailed?”

“I-I wasn’t the o-one saying that. Sources–”

“The sources you pulled out of your ass.” Gojo pressed a firm finger into the reporter’s chest and his eyes widened in horror. “Utahime and I were not compatible. I am now with somebody who is. Did you get that on record?”

“Y-yes sir.”

It was like Gojo flipped a switch. The air that was dense and deadly was lighter now that he was smiling and he had his sunglasses back on. “Now excuse me folks, I can’t keep my honey waiting any longer. I’m sure I’ll see you again later tonight at the charity ball.”

When Gojo finally got in the car you were quick to place a cherry red kiss on his cheek. His face took a ruddy tone that made you giggle. He looked over you in your gown, a pale blue number that was almost white, fully encrusted in clear and light pink crystals. He wore a gray suit with a tie the same color and jewels as your dress, making you a striking couple.

“I thought you’d never make it to the car. There’s so many people out there,” you said in awe. Gojo grasped your hand and your gaze shifted from the flashes outside to his face with a warm smile.

“Do you still want to do this? It’s okay if you’re nervous, we can do a raincheck.”

“Toru, for the millionth time, I’m fine,” you laughed. “I worked with some coaches, I’m wearing comfortable shoes, I don’t have to use the restroom… oh and I have the hottest date in the world so I’m all good.”

“You took my line,” he said, smiling into your lips. He stole two kisses before you had to push him away.

“I don’t want to ruin my makeup before we even get there.” You wiped the lipstick off of his lip as much as you could but it stained fast, already giving him a bright red look. When you tried to do the same to the mark on his cheek he stopped you.

“I think it looks great with my outfit,” he said looking into the rearview mirror. “Everybody will know who I belong to.”

Your ears flamed at his comment and you squeezed his hand. Gojo was elated to finally have you by his side during these types of events. You exuded the same type of confidence he had, only in a less flashy way. He knew that in time he would propose to you and with all the money he had he could retire quietly away with you, finding an old home that you both fixed up together like you talked about all the time. Gojo looked down at your palms touching each other and lifted your hand to kiss your pinky. You gave him a quizzical look to which he shrugged at.

“I just love you.”

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