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soiiiiboiiii · 1 year ago

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𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥'𝗦 𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗥 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘 *+:｡.｡

summary. gojo's determined to have you all to himself, despite how overprotective your brother is. | wc. 2.2k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, college au, cherry-picking, oblivious (slightly bimbo) reader, manipulation, stepcest, stepbro!geto, dubcon, mild coercion, jealousy, praise, pet names (ex. sweetheart, baby), intended for 18+ readers

featuring. gojo, geto

an. enjoy! i'll try to have part two up next week <3, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

The very first time Gojo sees you, you’re an eight-by-ten-inch glossy photo in a frame sitting on the entry table of Geto’s new mom’s home. It’s the stereotypical school photo, the background gray, the lighting too bright—nothing remarkable. He walks by it and doesn’t look twice.

He’s too preoccupied with helping Geto move back into his room for summer break.

Gojo meets you two weeks later at a party in a student house. Initially, he fails to understand why Geto brings you—you brought your sister?—slightly annoyed about having to play babysitter for the night. All Geto offers is a snort—she asked. I didn’t want to tell her no—and an imitation of a quasi-shrug.

Then you walk into the room—little skirt flouncing around your thighs, smile so wide when Geto slips his arm around your shoulders that he wonders if your cheeks hurt, shyly waving at Gojo—and suddenly it feels like something clicks into place, and everything makes sense.

“Suguru’s new sister, right?” he asks, watching you perk up at the attention. Cute.

“Yeah. I didn’t know he talks about me.”

“All the time. It’s getting him to—”

Gojo snickers when Geto shoves his shoulder, “Shut up.”

You give him a secret smile over the rim of your plastic cup and look away just in time to miss the quirk of his lips, pulling into a smirk, before he schools his features once more.

It’s hard to stay away after that.

He knows he shouldn’t even toy with the thought of you—not when Geto’s made it clear several times that you’re off limits, protective in that way most brothers are, and yet oddly drawn to you any time you’re in the same room, like a light to a beacon. Gojo would probably tease him for having some sick crush on his sister, if he didn’t see how you look at Geto too.

The shy glances, the way you light up whenever your brother talks to you. It’s all there, plain as day.

You don’t know any better—that’s the only thing he can think of when Geto laces your fingers with his, thinking everybody else is none the wiser, that he’s just a brother looking out for his little sister. After all these years, Gojo likes to think he knows his friend well: he’s always been attracted to shy little wallflowers with too much air and a lack of sense in their head, and you’re no exception.

Geto thinks he’s playing a game he’s already won, and Gojo is determined to change that, regardless of whatever rules about you your brother implemented as strictly forbidden. Rules are meant to be broken, and Gojo’s never been good about following them anyway.

It's just...there's something about you that drives him crazy—a little diamond in the ruff he wants to pick up and shine and then ruin.

Nobody would blame him if he did.

Especially when you walk around in those flowy pastel sundresses you seem to have a penchant for. Sometimes he finds himself watching with bated breath as the hem creeps up your smooth thighs high enough for him to glimpse the bottom swell of your ass whenever you move.

You’re so oblivious, at first, to how he looks at you, how he can’t help but stare a little longer than he should, how he bends to speak into your ear, even though you’ll be the only two people in the room.

He thinks you finally get it one night in your parent’s living room, tucked into his side, with a movie playing as nothing but muted white noise in the background. It’s the first time Geto’s ever left you alone with him, something Gojo readily takes advantage of.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Well, I…no.”

“Do you want to?”

He tries not to laugh as you make a surprised little noise in the back of your throat. “But what about Suguru—”

“It’ll be our secret. Hold still for me, okay?”

Gojo doesn’t wait for you to say anything before he cups your face with his hand, thumb swiping gently across your cheek—much softer than he’s imagined—and draws you into a messy kiss. He slides his tongue into your mouth until your mind grows soft and syrupy around the edges, until you burrow deeper into his side, small hands lost in his hair and nails scratching at his scalp.

Your lips are slick and swollen by the time he finally pulls away. He smooths your hair out of your face, thumb pressed against your lips as if to stop himself from kissing you again.

“Oh,” you say, reaching down to touch your mouth.

“It’s nice, yeah?”

You nod, swallowing, and stare at where his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. “Our secret?”

“Our secret,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t laugh at how eager you are; in fact, it’s the furthest thing from his mind when you lean up and capture his lips—he does crack a smile, though.

It doesn’t take long for your brother to catch on, watching with a pulled brow as Gojo lets you sit in his lap at a party, scoffing when Gojo says, “There was nowhere else for her to sit. It’d be weird if she sat in her brother’s lap.”

Much later, after you're tucked away in your room, is when Geto finally brings it up. “So, are you sleeping with her? I told you she’s off-limits.”

Gojo raises his hands in defense. "She's your sister. I would never."

It’s partially true because Gojo hasn’t gotten that far, but he knows Geto's threats aren't empty. For Geto's sake, he heeds his warnings—he can play along—he knows Geto won’t relent until he’s tallied some sort of repentance, some retribution, for wrong-doings Gojo hasn’t committed yet.

He slowly stops coming by your house throughout the week. He does, however, show up to the occasional party, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in your tight white shirt and denim shorts, is just a coincidence.

His texts to you are short and fewer in between, only ever messaging you if Geto doesn’t answer his phone.

It goes on like this for days—maybe longer, he’s not sure—so it's no surprise how you instantly notice his sudden distance.

There’s a lot of restraint—he should get a reward for it, really—from taking you right there in the hallway when you look up at him underneath your long lashes, how you call him Satoru instead of Gojo, brows furrowed as you ask him if everything’s okay.

God, you are just so sweet.

He curls a finger under your chin. "Yeah, sweetheart. Everything's okay."

You give him a shy smile. He wants to believe that you’ve also been lost without him—realizes in the same breath that it hardly matters, only that you’re here and take his hand in yours. He willingly follows as you lead him toward your bedroom, biting your lip with a glance over your shoulder.

“Can I show you something?"

Gojo completely forgets that this isn’t how he anticipated things to go, how he had it all orchestrated a certain way—like the girl who’s probably still waiting for him to get back from the bathroom, the one he used as a decoy to get Geto to think Gojo’s no longer chasing the hem of his sister’s skirt.

None of that matters, though, not with your much smaller hand in his, your black skirt swaying around your hips as you pull him into your room, all with the intent of you showing him something—his smart girl on a mission.

And you do, when he has your skirt pooling around your waist, your soaking wet panties on display for him to run the pad of his thumb over. You make these small, happy noises when he kisses you, just like you did that night on the couch, running your delicate fingers up his chest to pull his shirt off.

It feels like victory at the sound of your clothes hitting the floor, his mouth wrapped around your nipple while you gasp, a cute little gurgle trapped in the back of your throat. The feel of your thighs pressing against his ears.

He’s had a lot of experience with winning, has always been academically inclined, taller than the other kids growing up, and is good at pulling strings where it counts.

But this—you laid out on the bed with your hands spread at your sides, like an offering for his leisure alone, fingers clenching into the sheets—is the best win yet.

"We shouldn't," he says, glancing up from between your legs to watch you squirm underneath him. Gojo wants you to think you have some agency here, even as every piece tumbles into place, giving him what he wants. "What if your brother finds out?"

"But I want to," you pout, foot stomping against the mattress petulantly.

He laughs, and your pout grows more beautiful. “Ask nicely.”

It’s a theatrical huff and an attempted shift of your hips before you finally say, “Please.”

"So spoiled," he hums just before pressing the thick pad of his thumb against the wet patch of silk directly above the little button at the apex of your thighs.

You mewl, hips bucking up into his touch—so responsive. It makes him smile at how needy you are, Geto's innocent sister looking anything but by the second, and crawls up your body to kiss you again.

"Have you ever done this?" he asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear the words come from your mouth.

“What? Kiss?” you giggle breathlessly. “We did this already—”

He kisses your nose. “No, baby, had a dick in this little princess cunt.”

Your mouth falls slack, and you shake your head shyly, all confidence from a moment ago gone as you mumble out a soft "no."

It makes his dick throb where it’s still tucked away in his boxers, already half-hard from watching you parade downstairs in your short skirt all night.

Gojo’s lips quirk, eyes crinkling in the corners. "That's okay. Our secret, remember?"

“Will it hurt?”

He nips at your chin. “I’ll go slow. How about that?”

Slow is hardly the word he’d use once he fits his cock in you, your face pinching, a gratifying sight that you’re now his. You’re so hot and wet, and it’s the build-up of weeks teasing himself, of wondering what you’d feel like (what you’d sound like) until all he can do is pound your sweet little cunt that he’ll have to soothe with his mouth later.

Your walls keep fluttering around him from your third—no, fourth orgasm—and he swears he almost goes a little cross-eyed when he pulls out to see the creamy mess coating him from his belly button to the base of his dick.

There’s a mixture of tears and drool covering your flower-laced pillow, a series of little whimpers reaching his ears as Gojo rearranges your legs and presses them closer to your chest.

"Aw, pretty baby, does that feel good?" he coos, attempting to catch the next set of tears with the wide pad of his thumb. You tremble, caught in a trap between the bed and his pelvis, grinding into your clit.

"S'good," you moan, even though you press shaky fingers against his stomach so that you can have a moment to breathe.

"None of that," he tuts, easily grabbing your wrists and bringing them above your head. "How am I supposed to fuck you with your hands in the way?"

He thrusts forward and presses against that spot that has you clenching down hard around him.

“Fuck, that’s it—you’re gonna look so good with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You whine. "Ah, you—you can’t—you can’t c-cum in me.”

Gojo squeezes your cheeks with his free hand to cut off your protests. He presses a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making you fall pliant as he works your wet, open cunt.

"Come on, be a good girl." He feels you squeeze around him, and he rewards you with another kiss. "There you go. I'm gonna fuck you nice and hard, and you're going to take it for me, yeah? I won't cum in you." He grunts. "Promise—"

But he does until you're so full that he watches his cum leak out of you until he pushes it back in with his fingers, and you release a high-pitched squeal when he buries them deep.

"Shh, baby, we might get caught," Gojo says with a little smirk because he already knows Geto is outside your bedroom door.

You had been so intent on getting Gojo to your room that you forgot to shut your door all the way, leaving a large enough gap for anyone to see inside if they happened to walk by.

But your eyes were too far in the back of your skull to notice your brother with cum dripping down his fist after listening to his little sister get her brains fucked out by his best friend—his cock twitching in his hand from your cute whimpers. Gojo looks over at him with a sly grin before dipping his hips into you again, enjoying his prize after patiently waiting.

Maybe later, Geto will have to teach you what happens to sisters who don't listen to their big brothers.

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soiiiiboiiii · 1 year ago

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as requested, a longer version of this drabble

synopsis: geto spared one woman from the village he exterminated due to the pleading of mimiko and nanako, now he has to live in between preaching a world without non-sorcerers during the day and sleeping with one during the night; a dive into the mind of a conflicted man.

cw: canon events (no major spoilers), death topics, fem submissive reader x cult leader geto, smut, oral (m -> f), 1.6k words.

The day was horribly busy, on days like these, where he had to talk in front of a crowd for such a long time, then entertain donors, then eat curses, Geto can’t sleep due to the loud noise of his mind, he would probably sleep if he was in a equally loud environment, but, except for the sound of your soft breathing, the room has dead quiet.

Dead quiet.

Geto sits up, the cold air hitting his bare chest as he takes in the sight of the red temple across the open window, a ruffling makes him draw and narrow his eyes to the figure in his bed.

He remembers the day he first saw you, trying to sneak in the room where Mimiko and Nanako were locked in, he was in the process of exterminating the people in that village so he didn’t think twice when he grabbed you by your hair ready to let a curse rip you apart but the deafening sound of the girl’s scream stopped him, only then he noticed a bag with food that fell of your hands.

He could see from a distance, you were like the rest of them, a regular non-sorcerer and a few minutes ago he decided what he wanted.

A world free of non-sorcerers.

He can’t make an exception. He shouldn’t.

The twins had tears in their eyes. They’re young and his responsibility now, so a helping hand couldn’t be a sin. He could leave you for last.

Somehow he finds in his heart to spare you, and once he consolidated his power as a leader, he took the three of you in, the girls only leave your side when he’s around, they don’t approach anyone else except the two of you.

The first week you were around sorcerers he could see the fear and confusion in your face. Nanako tugged his clothing and he squatted to listen as she whispered to him “She cannot see them”.

So he provided special glasses for you, one with cursed energy so you could see what people like you shouldn’t, and he made Nanako hand it to you as you slowly began to comprehend what the weird events around you actually were.

She should be thankful, she’s only alive because of me.

He thought about that constantly, especially when watching you smiling and minding your own business.

And you are grateful and respectful towards him, almost never making eye contact, just keeping your head down and only calling him “Geto-sama”, he appreciated that, you should know your place.

It’s only a matter of time before he grows fond of you too, with his influence and your submission, it didn’t take long before you were in his bed, being happy to serve him in any ways.

It’s a contradiction having you around, he knows it. A monkey.

You sleep so peacefully, he wonders if you understand how lucky you are to make it so far.

Tonight could be your last night on earth, how deserving were you to live in his ideal world? You had two little girls that adored you, was that enough? He could just tell them something awful happened.

His cold fingers trace the back of your neck, ghosting your cervical spine.

You fell off the stairs and broke your neck, so sad.

That’s believable, the temple has many stairs.

His index finds your pulsing point.

A man attacked you, another monkey, and cut your throat, how horrible.

His eyes drop to your rising chest.

You fell on the lake and drowned, a terrible accident.

There’s so many possibilities to get rid of you without them blaming Geto.

Warm fingers unexpectedly find his hand, your small hand covers his. Suguru feels his human side returning to him, the dark cloud over his head slowly fading away as you take his wrist and you turn your head to kiss his palm.

He feels like crying, confused and guilty.

The bedroom is dark enough for you to miss the look of despair in his eyes, he allows you to caress the veins in his forearms, tracing it all the way to his biceps until you find his neck with your arm completely extended. Suguru gives in to the light pressure you make, bringing him to lay back down with you, You kiss his shoulders, his chest, his neck.

He doesn’t feel worth your kisses.

Again the contradiction.

You kiss his jawline and he stops you with a hand over your lips, he doesn’t want you to feel the way his lips quiver, you don’t ask questions, just accept and kiss his palm again, holding it against your cheek.

Geto is hard on you sometimes, giving humiliating tasks such as cleaning up the remains of someone who wronged him or capturing a curse that will for sure attack you. As much as he sometimes thinks of creating a space between the girls and you, the little ones always find a way back, helping you clean while keeping a non-morbid conversation topic or helping bandage the scratches you got from the small but feisty cursed spirited you were assigned to.

Yet you never once complained, always bowing in obedience with a soft “Yes, Geto-sama” coming out of your lips.

He knows when to treat you well too, sometimes he knocks on your room at night, sometimes he sends someone to call you over to his. When his whole cult speech was over he would dismiss everyone except you, to be alone in the giant spacious room with him, he likes to take you there, where your quiet sounds of pleasure bounce through the walls and create an echo.

You’re good to him, not to his cause, to Geto-sama you’re useless, but to Suguru Geto you’re an anchor.

He returns your kisses, sucking on your clavicle then down the soft skin of your breasts, where he takes in one nipple and licks until it gets hard enough for him to gently bite on and make you grasp.

Your hands find his hair, his long soft locks, the same ones you brush ever so patiently when Mimiko and Nanako turn it into a mess of knots from braiding and tying tiny silicone elastics on, you don’t scold them, even if it means to stay hours with Geto trying to undo it afterwards.

They will grow up to be spoiled.

But he also could never scold them like a father is supposed to, deep down he knows he won’t need to, they adore him, anything he’ll say they’ll do.

They’re good kids, he supposes he owns it to you too.

Suguru leaves a wet trail of kisses down your body until he’s in the middle of yours legs, he first starts by licking the surrounds of your clit teasing patiently as you get wetter, the sleepiness doesn’t allow you to protest or whine, only to close your eyes and take whatever he’s willing to give you while tangling your fingers in his hair.

When he finally gives your nub some attention in the form of sucking, your leg twitches, he squeezes it and places it over his shoulder, at this point he’s laying on his stomach vaguely thrusting his pelvis onto the mattress to relieve a bit of the aching in his cock he gets when eating you out.

He adds more tongue as he moves down your needy hole, which pulsates around nothing, Suguru hums nuzzling your glossy folds, the vibration goes straight to your hardened nub.

“Geto-sama” you moan when he fucks you with his tongue, the tip of his nose hits your clit perfectly, once he looks up to see you falling apart on him you shiver, his eyes are predatory, you wonder if you should retrieve your hand from his head, but he quickly closes them again, losing himself in the taste of you. God, you taste so good. What makes him get through the day when he has to absorb those disgusting curses is the thought of getting lost between your legs, sucking your nipples, eating his own cum off you, sucking your tongue…

He feels your orgasm approaching as you tug his locks harder, whimpering softly. Usually he would make you beg, stopping his ministrations just before you get there and delaying it until there’s tears in your eyes. Tonight he’s enjoying the silence, he might just let you go ahead, but there’s something he wants to hear.

“Say my name” he orders with a raspy voice.

“Get—“

“No” he bites your inner thigh, “My actual name.”

“Suguru” you roll his name so beautifully on your tongue.

“Keep saying it” he dives back, making out with your pussy and paying extra attention to your puffy clit as you call his name in a prayer.

He misses it, the way his first name used to be used, nowadays is just “Geto-sama this, Geto-sama that, master, sir”. It would inflate his ego if it didn’t come out of monkeys' mouths.

But Suguru? He left that for you only, even the other sorcerers he considers family just call him Geto.

Before he realizes you’re already cumming, hole pulsating around his tongue and heels digging on his back. He slows down his pace, nibbling on your glossy lips then taking your hand out of his hair to kiss it like you did earlier, the act makes your heart swell, you caress his face, thumb rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Suguru” you call his name again, this time looking straight in his eyes, they don’t seem predatory anymore as he moves up finding a safe spot on your chest, where he lays down listening to your heartbeat as your fingers work through the knots in his hair, this time caused by yourself. Your other hand caresses his back and shoulders, whatever skin you can find to soothe him. Suddenly he doesn’t have the loud voices in his head anymore and manages to fall asleep again.

note: this was short but I wanna explore more of this side of suguru so my inbox is open to suggestions

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