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thehighpriestess1 · 2 months ago

Text

Make a Wish: Mastermind

Warning: Strong themes. Manipulation.

Pairing: Gojo x y/n, Nanami x y/n

Word count: 13k

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You hummed softly to Matilda as the orchards blurred past, their blossoms flickering like ghosts of memories you weren’t quite ready to touch. Gojo tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel — rhythm absent, mind clearly elsewhere. Tangled in thoughts. Tangled in you.

Your confession had landed like a brick to the chest. You saw the flicker in his expression, mistaking his silence for disbelief. But there was nothing for him to question. He had always known. Every word you’d spoken rang true.

He should have said something right then — told you what he remembered, what he carried with him every day. But speaking the truth aloud would have fractured the fragile thing growing between you. And he couldn’t risk that. Not when, for the first time in what felt like lifetimes, you were looking at him like he was something more than the man who had failed you.

So he stayed quiet. If pretending meant keeping you close a little longer, he’d carry the lie all the way to the grave. From the corner of his eye, he watched you. Peaceful. A little distant. Beautiful in the kind of quiet way that undid him.

He cleared his throat. “How did it feel… coming back? The whole thing?”

You turned toward him, smiling gently. “So you do believe me now?”

“I always believed you,” he replied, his voice light with effort. “I just want to understand.”

You shifted in your seat, eyes drifting to the window. “It was... unnerving at first. Terrifying. But once the shock wore off—” you inhaled deeply “—it felt exhilarating.”

His brow lifted. “Exhilarating? Why?”

But he already knew. He just wanted to hear it from you. Wanted to trace every fracture in the old version of himself — the one who let you slip away — so he’d never make the same mistake again.

You exhaled slowly, fingers curling around the hem of your sweater. “Because I’d been stuck. In this loop. Pain, loss, silence… pretending everything was fine. Coming back felt like breaking out of that. Like I was finally breathing again. Like I had a second chance.”

“Pain…” he echoed. “Loss?”

You paused. The air in the car shifted.

“Yeah. Loss of my footing. My peace. Maybe even my sanity,” you said with a laugh that was almost too quiet, too sad.

His grip on the wheel tightened. “I really messed things up, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you said softly. “But not you-you. The other you. The one who kept me a secret. Who chose his clan’s approval over me.”

He swallowed hard. “But I’m still him, aren’t I? Same face. Same voice.”

You turned to him, expression gentle. “No, Satoru. That version of you lived in fear. You…” you smiled faintly, “…you listen. You chose me.”

A silence settled between you, soft but heavy.

Then, as if afraid to break it, he asked, “How did we even start dating?”

You let out a small laugh. “One-night stand. After a company party. We weren’t supposed to catch feelings.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Classy. Sounds like me.”

“Terrible behavior, really.”

“So does this mean you trust me?” he asked, taking another smooth turn.

You leaned back in your seat, exhaling. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

He glanced at you again. “Then… your walls. Ready to let them down?”

You smirked. “My walls?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “You don’t let me spoil you. You flinch every time I try to take care of you. Sometimes, your independence feels like rebellion. Like you’re guarding yourself from me.”

You huffed. “Wow. Didn’t know you noticed me so much.”

“What can I say?” he murmured. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, but sometimes… it feels like I’m not allowed to be. Like if I show too much, you’ll run.”

You studied his face. Even with the glasses, you could see the sadness in his expression.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Even if things are different now… I’m still not over a lot.”

“Yet here you are,” he said softly. “You should’ve told me you needed time. I would’ve waited.”

The words struck you silently. He was right. You’d kept him close, but always at arm’s length. Your heart sank.

Gojo noticed the shift in your expression. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. It’s just—this is a lot.”

“It’s alright.” You gave him a fragile smile.

After a pause, he said gently, “Tell me something I did right. Just one thing.”

You looked out the window, thinking. “You were a good friend. Always there for others. My family. Always ready to help.”

He hummed quietly, nodding. But everything you said, while true, felt distant. Detached. Not about him and you.

“What’s something I did for you,” he asked, “that you actually liked?”

You rubbed your arm, struggling. “I… I guess I liked how you always said the right thing. You always knew what to say.”

He nodded again, silent. It wasn’t quite the answer he was hoping for — but maybe it was the only one you could give.

Nanami flipped through the file with surgical precision, each turn of the page more agitated than the last. His jaw was clenched so tightly it seemed like he might shatter a molar. The frown etched on his face had settled into something permanent over the past few days, but now it deepened to something almost dangerous.

Finally, he slammed the file shut with a sharp thud that echoed through the sterile silence of his office. Papers inside shuddered at the impact. He exhaled through his nose—controlled, cold, and deliberate—then picked up the phone.

“Miwa. Come in.”

His tone was calm, but it carried the weight of a storm building on the horizon.

The door creaked open within seconds. Miwa entered with quick, polite steps, notepad already in hand.

“Yes, sir?”

Nanami held the file beside his face like it offended him. “You expect me to submit this to investors?”

She blinked, confused. “I— I reviewed the numbers three times. I thought—”

He didn’t let her finish. He slid the file across the desk like a dealer tossing a losing hand.

“You have two hours. Fix everything and bring it back before lunch.”

Miwa hesitated, catching the file with both hands. “But sir, the investor meeting isn’t until tomor—”

“Do you give me deadlines now?” Nanami’s voice dropped lower, dangerously even. His brow arched slightly, a cold challenge in his eyes.

Miwa’s lips parted, then closed. Her shoulders stiffened, and she bowed her head.

“Understood,” she said quietly.

She turned and walked out, her breath shallow as she pulled the door shut behind her. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she nearly bumped into Maya, who had been standing nearby, having overheard enough.

“Miwa,” Maya said, reaching out. Her face was knit with concern. “Are you okay?”

Miwa nodded quickly, trying to seem unfazed, but her fingers clutched the file a little too tightly. “It’s my fault. I should’ve double-checked everything.”

“Are you sure?” Maya asked gently.

“I’ll fix it,” Miwa insisted with a forced smile, the edges of her professionalism cracking slightly. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

And with that, she rushed toward her desk, flipping open her laptop with practiced urgency. Maya stood in place, her arms folding across her chest, her thoughts racing.

She'd been watching Nanami all week. There was a pattern. He hadn’t just snapped at Miwa—Hitoshi had been on the receiving end of a biting comment yesterday, and even his usual coffee run had gone untouched this morning. He hadn’t spoken more than five words in the team briefing. This wasn’t the Nanami she knew — thoughtful, composed, meticulous in words as much as in numbers. This version was distant. Cold. Preoccupied.

Something was very wrong.

She pulled out her phone and typed quickly.

Maya: Y/n, you need to talk to Nanami. Something’s off. The whole office is tense. Y/n: What happened? Maya: No clue. But it’s not just a bad day. It feels bigger. Y/n: I’m back soon. I’ll talk to him first thing.

Maya stared at the screen for a moment after sending the last message, her reflection dim in the glass of the office window. She didn’t know what was going on, but something told her this wasn’t just about a few missed calculations.

Still unsettled, Maya headed toward the break area, where she found Hitoshi hunched over a vending machine, aggressively tapping the "C2" button.

“You know that button’s not gonna listen to you faster if you bully it,” she said, attempting a light tone.

Hitoshi glanced up, chuckling as the machine finally coughed up his can of cold brew. “It fears me. That's why it obeys.”

Maya smiled faintly, then leaned against the counter. “I just saw Miwa. Nanami really tore into her.”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi sighed, popping the tab and taking a sip. “I heard the door slam. He’s been like that all week. Short-tempered. Snappy. Kind of… off.”

“So it’s not just me,” Maya said, her voice dropping slightly.

“Nope,” Hitoshi replied. “He even gave me grief for submitting the new vendor shortlist. And I triple-checked that thing.” He raised a brow. “Maybe he’s just missing Y/n.”

Maya let out a short breath of amusement. “I wish it were something that simple.”

Hitoshi tilted his head. “You think it’s something else?”

Maya hesitated for a moment, then said, “I didn’t want to overthink it, but… a few nights ago, I forgot my phone in the office. When I came back to get it, everyone had left. Lights were off except in Nanami’s office.”

Hitoshi straightened slightly. “Okay…”

“I peeked through the glass to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything. He was in there with a man and a woman I’ve never seen before. They weren’t dressed like clients. The woman had this… corporate air, but not from our usual circles.”

“You’re sure they weren’t new clients?” Hitoshi asked, frowning. “Nanami handles a lot of private consults. He’s always discreet about them.”

“I know,” Maya said. “That’s why I didn’t say anything then. But it wasn’t a typical meeting. No documents, no presentations. They were talking, but the vibe was tense. Like something serious was being decided.”

Hitoshi sipped his drink, watching her carefully. “You think it has something to do with his mood lately?”

“I don’t know,” Maya admitted. “But my gut says yes. I’ve worked with Nanami long enough to know he doesn’t unravel without reason. And something’s unraveling.”

“Maybe he’s trying to keep something under wraps,” Hitoshi said. “Wouldn’t be the first time leadership deals with high-stakes stuff behind closed doors.”

“Yeah… but this feels personal,” Maya murmured, more to herself than to him. “And I can’t shake the feeling that it’s going to affect more than just him.”

She looked toward the hallway that led to Nanami’s office — now quiet, the door closed, the storm temporarily sealed behind wood and glass.

“I just hope Y/n gets back soon,” she added softly. “He listens to her. If anyone can get through to him… it’s her.”

Hitoshi nodded, thoughtful now. “Let’s hope it’s not already too late.”

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of clothes being folded and tucked away. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your suitcase open beside you, half-packed and slightly chaotic — a reflection of your thoughts.

You were folding your sweater when the door clicked open.

Gojo stepped inside, shades pushed up into his hair, wind still clinging to him like the scent of the cherry orchards. “Hey,” he said softly. “How’s the packing?”

You shrugged, not looking up. “Therapeutic. Kind of. Helps me think.”

He wandered in, lazily draping himself across the armchair like it was his throne. “What time’s the flight?”

“Same route back,” you said, eyes still focused on a tangled pair of headphones. “Early morning. The one with the layover in Helsinki.”

There was a pause. You felt him watching you. And then, for some reason, you stopped.

You turned around slowly, meeting his eyes.

“…Are you planning to come with me?”

Gojo didn’t answer at first. He simply reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a boarding pass, waving it in the air with a triumphant little grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You laughed — warm, genuine — but then he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a second one. A different one.

Now he was holding a ticket in each hand, one on either side of his face, like a magician about to perform a trick.

“I brought options,” he said, voice light. “Your commercial flight… or my jet. No pressure.”

Your eyes widened, half-amused, half-incredulous. “Your jet?”

He nodded, grinning. “Private. Smooth. No layovers. Less crying babies. Bonus points for having me all to yourself.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but the offer stands. If you trust me.”

You bit your lip, heart stuttering a little. “I do trust you.”

“Then?” he prompted, eyes hopeful.

“…But I still want to be independent,” you added quietly. “It matters to me.”

Gojo nodded slowly, smile fading into something softer. “I get that. I do. But you said you’d try to let me in. Just a little.”

You looked away, guilt suddenly heavy in your chest. Your hands paused on your suitcase, unmoving.

He noticed. “What is it?”

You exhaled, the words catching in your throat. “I feel awful. You’ve gone through all of this— every twist, every hard moment — and most of it wasn’t even your fault. I blamed you for things… things that belonged to someone else. Another version of you.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s still me. Past or present. I don’t get to dodge that.”

“I punished you anyway,” you whispered.

“You were hurting,” he said simply. “And I was part of that pain, even if I didn’t mean to be. I’ll take it — if it means I get to be here now.”

You blinked quickly, swallowing the emotion rising in your throat.

He smiled, tilting his head. “So… what’s it going to be? Cabin 14A with a window view and a crying toddler behind us? Or cherry wine and custom playlists on my jet?”

You rolled your eyes. “Such a hard sell.”

“Just being honest.”

You sighed, picking up your sweater and pressing it to your chest like a shield. “Fine. We’ll take your jet.”

He beamed like a kid who’d won at a claw machine. “You won’t regret it.”

“I already do.”

“You’re still going to cuddle me mid-flight.”

“No promises.”

“You say that now.” He stood up and crossed to your suitcase, casually tossing in one of his hoodies. “You always get cold midair.”

You looked up at him. “Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“…Thank you. For not giving up.”

He looked at you then — really looked — and said, quietly, “Never even crossed my mind.”

“And since when do you need a ticket for your private jet?”. You corked your head to the side and smiled.

“Oh it’s my boarding pass for our old flight, did it for the dramatics”. He grinned.

“You’re ridiculous”.

“Yet you love me”.

Gojo leaned on his knuckles, elbows propped lazily on the armrest as he watched you, eyebrows pinched together in focus while you typed away furiously on your phone. His gaze didn’t waver.

“Who are you texting?” he asked, voice casual, but with a thread of curiosity threading through.

The soft hum of his private jet filled the cabin, punctuating the silence that followed.

“Oh, just Maya,” you murmured, eyes glued to the screen.

“All okay?” he asked, straightening up from his slouch.

You hesitated, thumbs still hovering over your keyboard. “Umm... I don’t know,” you muttered, the small frown between your brows deepening.

Gojo narrowed his eyes, interest officially piqued. “Can I help?”

You let out a dry chuckle and finally looked up at him, offering a half-smile. “It’s about Nanami.”

Gojo’s face twisted, barely perceptible but undeniably bitter. “What did he do now?”

The frustration in his voice wasn’t new. It tugged at the tail end of what had been one of the most serene holidays he'd ever had — and Nanami’s name had to sour it.

You sighed, your fingers slackening as you placed the phone on the glossy mahogany table between you. “He didn’t do anything. But Maya says he’s been acting weird.”

Gojo cocked a brow. “Weird? So... like himself?” he said with a smirk.

You gave him a flat look. “Yeah, sure. Maya said he’s been on edge. Irritable.”

Gojo leaned in slightly, elbows resting on his knees, the corners of his lips twitching. “Again — like himself.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and crossed your arms. “Come on, I’m being serious. Everyone’s worried.”

He scoffed and looked away, jaw tightening. “Everyone? Or you?” A beat. “And why are you even worried about him? He’s nothing but a conniving bastard.”

Your eyes sharpened. “Why do you hate him so much? He’s done nothing to you. He’s your business partner — you should have some respect.”

Gojo laughed. Not the joyful kind. The sharp, cutting kind. “Respect? For Nanami?” He tilted his head mockingly. “He’s not my partner. I’m his boss. I own his company.”

Your arms folded tighter as you leaned back, your tone clipped. “Well, he clearly built something lucrative enough for you to want to buy it and that deserves respect”

Gojo’s smirk vanished. His voice dropped an octave. “The only lucrative thing he did was hire you. I bought a loss-making company — overpaid for it, even — just to get close to you.”

You blinked. “Wh-what?”

He exhaled, tension surfacing. “Yes. The only reason I bought the company was because I— I found out you worked there. It was the only way I could... truly know who the woman from my dream was”

Silence fell. You stared at him, eyes wide. “You couldn’t just move to Kyoto? You had to buy a company?”

“Yes,” Gojo said without hesitation, tone suddenly raw. “Because it was the only organic way I could think of. Do you have any idea how pissed I was when I found out you worked for Nanami?”

Your tone turned sharp, defensive. “What’s wrong with working for Nanami?”

He shifted, jaw clenched. “I— never mind.”

You leaned forward, fed up. “Because of Mishki?”

Gojo froze mid-breath, the color draining slightly from his face. He turned his head slowly toward you. “What... what did you just say?”

Your chest tightened. But it was too late now. You inhaled sharply. “He told me. About Mishki.”

Gojo studied you — a long, unreadable stare. He could barely keep the fury from leaking into his tone. “And... what exactly did he tell you?”

“That... he was dating her. And you— you took her from him. Then mocked him when he confronted you.”

Gojo leaned back, slowly, lips curling into a dry smirk. “I took Mishki? From him?”

That look on his face made your blood boil. “Yes.”

“You believe him?”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”. You shrugged like it was the most obvious thing to believe Nanami.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed. “Would you believe me if I told you my side of the story?”

You lifted your shoulders in a slow shrug. “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

You sighed, voice softer now. “You had history with Mishki. Not now, but... in the other life.”

His eyes darkened, and his heart dropped into his stomach. “And what history did I have with her in the other life?”

You hesitated, then said it plainly. “You cheated on me with her.”

Gojo’s fists clenched in his lap. He wanted to shout, to scream it wasn’t true — but he couldn’t risk it. One misstep and he’d give away too much. “Did I?” he said quietly. “How did you find out?”

“I saw the messages. The late-night calls. You ditched me for her, over and over.” You shook your head, bitterly. “So when Nanami told me about her, I had every reason to believe you’d do it again. That you’d take her from him, too.”

Gojo’s thoughts spun. Two lies — one from Nanami, one from the past. He took a breath. “Does Nanami know about your... thing?”

“What?! No! Why would I tell him?”

“Okay,” he said, slowly. “Well, I didn’t take Mishki from Nanami. It’s true they were together. But there’s more to the story.”

Your voice was cautious. “Like what?”

Gojo gave a sad smile. “Where do I even begin?” He picked up the glass, took a long sip, and placed it down with care. “Nanami used to work with me. He was family. Even my father admired him — he was loyal, smart, dependable. Suguru hated him, though. Said something was off. He wasn’t wrong.”

You listened in silence.

“Nanami met Mishki at my birthday gala. I introduced them. Mishki’s family handles our North America ops. Nanami liked her immediately. I knew she was trouble — but I let it go. Until he started slipping. Missing meetings. Skipping work. Obsessed.”

You blinked slowly.

“One day, my accountant found that Nanami was embezzling money. Millions. Properties, gifts — all in Mishki’s name. I was terrified. If my father found out... Nanami wouldn’t walk away with just a termination letter.”

You leaned in, barely breathing.

“So I threw a party. Invited them both. Tried to talk to Mishki first. She denied being with him. Said he was stalking her — buying her apartments, gifts, begging for attention. I didn’t believe her because I knew the truth”

“The truth?”

“Mishki was hitting on me for years. Even when Nanami thought she was his girlfriend. Once he lied and said they went on vacation together. Turns out she was with her friends. Nanami was just... funding it. Alone.”

You crossed your arms, uneasy. “So he was giving her money and she was taking it but she wasn’t his— girlfriend?”.

“That’s who Mishki is”. Gojo’s voice dropped.

“What happened at the party?”

“At that party, I texted Mishki to meet me. I offered her money to leave him alone. She didn’t want the money — she wanted me. She... came on to me. And right then, Nanami walked in.”

Silence again. Your throat felt tight. “Even if that’s true... why mock him?”

“I didn’t,” Gojo said. “I tried to protect him. She twisted everything. Told him I stole her. He didn’t believe my texts, photos — anything. Said I forced her. I lost it. That was the final straw. Soon after, my father found out, and Nanami was gone.”

Your heart pounded. It didn’t sound like Nanami. But...

Gojo saw your hesitation. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I... I don’t know what to believe.”

Gojo’s heart clenched. You were never going to believe him. He wanted to scream and tell you that he didn’t cheat on you. He wanted to tell you that MIshki was doing the same thing again. That she was threatening him with the photos taken secretly during his birthday. That he did what he did just to save you but he ended up hurting you. He wanted to tell you that yes he was wrong to hide things, but he was tired. The pressure of his clan, the company, Mishki, all with a common goal of taking you away and he did what he did to keep you with him and it all crashed on him in the end.How could he tell you that what happened with you was the aftermath of what happened with Nanami and Mishki .He had a bad feeling that the future will repeat itself.

“I understand," he whispered under his breath. It’s all he could offer. His understanding.

You didn’t want to believe that Nanami was the man Gojo was painting him to be but if not that then you’d have to believe, accept that Gojo was lying again for selfish reasons and it pained you to think that you were making the same mistake again.

“Did you ever have feelings for Nanami?” Gojo asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His tone was even, too even, like he was trying to play it cool, trying being the operative word.

You hesitated for just a breath, then nodded. “I did.”

Gojo nodded too, mechanically. His knuckles clenched into the leather armrest beside him, blood boiling under the skin. He looked away for a moment, jaw ticking, then brought his eyes back to you with forced casualness. “What changed?”

You exhaled softly. “You showed up. He backed off. Things changed.”

Gojo’s heart twisted. He leaned back slowly, like the movement would keep him grounded. “So if I hadn’t come to Kyoto… you’d be with Nanami?”

You gave him a small shrug. “Maybe.”

That word—maybe—stabbed him. The worst part wasn’t the uncertainty. It was the possibility.

He tried to laugh, but it came out bitter and dry. “Why Nanami?”

You met his eyes, calm and steady. “He’s kind. Sensitive. He understands me. He appreciates me. And…”—your lips curled slightly—“he has a nice smile.”

Gojo’s throat tightened. He laughed again, quiet this time, a low scoff masked as amusement. But his fingers were digging crescents into his palms.

He watched you as you said it—all of it—and something ugly settled in his chest. You were here, sitting in his jet, tangled in his world, but a part of you still lived in that soft corner Nanami once occupied.

Even if you were with Gojo now, you weren’t entirely over him.

And for someone like Gojo—who had the world at his feet—not having all of you was unbearable.

He nodded slowly, biting back the million things he wanted to say. The jet’s soft hum filled the silence again, almost mocking its constancy.

“Right,” he murmured, lips pressed tight. “Nice smile. Why me?”. Gojo asked, looking straight into your eyes.

You sighed and leaned back, for a moment neither of you said anything, “Maybe parts of it were remnants from the other life, but most of it was you. You showed me that you were not the same person. You were kind, sensitive, even though I pushed you away you didn’t hold it against me. You cared for my friends, family, and even me.”

Gojo smiled, but the pain spread through his chest. You loved him in comparison to what he used to be. He couldn’t blame you.

Suzume sat up straighter in her chair, spine rigid, eyes locked on the screen. Her corner desk was tucked away from the main floor—half-hidden behind a filing cabinet, shielded by tall bookshelves and the lazy hum of the old air vent. Usually, she appreciated the solitude. Today, she was grateful for the cover.

Because she wasn’t working on the financial projections she’d been assigned. She was scrolling through your Instagram.

Images bled into one another on the screen: the slate-grey fjord against golden-hour light, a candlelit table at a rooftop restaurant, that blurred shot of the northern lights glowing like a celestial fire. Gojo was in most of them. Gojo was beside you in all of them.

It wasn’t the location that stung. She didn’t care about the fjord or the Michelin-star meals or the private jet snaps. That life—Gojo’s life—was too far removed from hers to even envy. What she did envy, almost bitterly, was the fact that you were with him.

The man she’d fallen for. She knew about his feelings for you. Everyone did. She wasn’t an idiot.

She’d watched him light up around you. Watch him invent reasons to stop by your desk. Bringing you coffee when you look tired. Sneaking you snacks during late meetings. That dumb smirk on his face when you rolled your eyes at his jokes, and the soft look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. Suzume watched and she didn’t understand. Because you? You didn’t even try. Half the time, you looked like you were barely tolerating him. You dismissed his kindness like it was annoying background noise. And yet there he was—Gojo Satoru, the man who could charm his way into any heart, wagging his tail behind you like a stray mutt.

She didn’t hate you. Not really. But she couldn’t help the bile that rose in her throat every time she asked herself the same question: Why you?

You were ordinary. Safe. Pleasant in that forgettable way. Suzume had eyes. She knew she was more striking. Thinner. Sleeker. Smarter. Sharper. So why the hell wasn’t it enough?

She leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the high backrest. Her teeth gnawed absently at the blue cap of her pen. Her gaze stayed fixed on the latest photo you’d posted: a long-exposure shot of the aurora borealis. She could practically feel him beside you in the cold—his arm likely draped over your shoulder, that stupid grin on his face, dimples out, sunglasses probably still on like an idiot.

She kicked her foot against the desk. Once. Twice. Again—harder—until the dull thud in her shin began to match the sharp twist in her chest.

She remembered the first time she saw him in the office. He’d walked in on a Monday, hair sticking up in chaotic spikes. He looked nothing like the executives she was used to. No rigid formality. No ego. He gave the receptionist a high-five. He called the interns by name. And when she spilled her lunch on her skirt at her desk two weeks later, mortified, he’d appeared out of nowhere with an emergency Tide pen and a bag of clean sweatpants from the company gym.

He’d winked. “I carry spares. HR disaster-proofing.”

She laughed—really laughed—for the first time that day.

Then there were the late nights when the office was nearly empty. Just her and him and the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. He’d stop by her desk with his sleeves rolled up, tie loose, tired but still smiling. He always asked about her ideas in meetings. Genuinely listened. He teased her, but never meanly. And he noticed things—like when she started wearing glasses, or when she switched to oat milk in her coffee.

He made her feel seen. And maybe that’s all it took. But all of that—every shared smile, every late-night report they finished together, every inside joke—meant nothing. Because his eyes were only ever on you.

And no matter how many nights she dreamed otherwise, Gojo Satoru had never looked at her the way he looked at you.

Suzume needed air.

She grabbed her mug with more force than necessary and walked briskly toward the break room. Her heels clicked sharply on the linoleum, each step a reminder of how hard she had kicked the desk earlier. There was a dull throb in her shin now, but it still hurt less than the thought of Gojo sharing a private dinner under the northern lights with someone who didn't even seem to see him the way she did.

As she turned the corner by the hallway, she collided with something—no, someone—solid.

Her mug tilted, but a steady hand reached out just in time to stop the spill.

“Suzume,” Nanami said, brows furrowed. “You alright?”

She stepped back, blinking up at him. “Sorry—I wasn’t watching.”

Nanami looked down, then slowly back at her. “You’re limping.”

Suzume straightened. “I’m fine. Just bumped my leg earlier. Nothing serious.”

He didn’t press. Not directly. Instead, he tilted his head, observing her like one might examine a file they weren’t sure about yet. “Mm. Still,” he said calmly, “you look… tense.”

She attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Nanami glanced over his shoulder toward the corridor. “Why don’t you come to my office for a minute? You could use a break.”

Suzume hesitated. “Is this… work-related?”

He gave a barely-there shrug. “It can be.”

Something in his tone—nonchalant but warm—made it hard to say no.

She followed him. Nanami’s office was clinical but sleek, he poured her a cup of tea without asking, placing it in front of her as he settled behind his desk.

“Drink,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Suzume cupped the mug in her hands. The warmth helped. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but she didn’t speak.

Nanami didn’t rush her. He leaned back, fingers steepled, gaze careful and unreadable.

After a moment, he asked, “Long day?”

She gave a soft laugh. “You could say that.”

“Or… something else?” he said, voice gentle, almost curious.

She raised her eyes to meet his, but he didn’t look interrogative. Just… attentive. Safe.

She shook her head slowly. “It’s silly.”

“I don’t think you’re the type to get thrown by silly things,” he replied, with quiet assurance. “But I could be wrong.”

Suzume toyed with the edge of the cup. The steam fogged her glasses faintly. “It’s just—there’s someone I like,” she said, voice low, words curling cautiously from her lips, “but he’s… with someone else.”

Nanami kept his expression neutral, not a single twitch of surprise. But inside, he already knew. Her glances, her tension, the way her eyes followed Gojo around the office like a lost thread of light — it had been obvious for a while. But now, hearing her say it out loud, was confirmation. “Hmm,” he said, as though weighing a market trend. “That can be difficult.”

Suzume nodded, staring down at the swirl of tea. “It’s not just that he’s with her… I don’t get it. She’s not—” She stopped herself. “It’s confusing. Like I’m invisible. Like nothing I do would ever be enough.”

Nanami didn’t answer right away. He let the silence stretch just long enough to make her wonder if she’d said too much. Then, quietly, he said, “Sometimes people only see what they want to. And sometimes, they’re so focused on chasing one thing, they miss what’s already right in front of them.”

Suzume looked up. There was something comforting in his tone. Not quite sympathy. Not quite advice. Something in between. “You think so?” she asked.

Nanami gave the smallest smile. “I do.”

He watched her nod, her lips parting like she wanted to say something else, but couldn’t quite find the words. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Does he know how you feel?”

Suzume shook her head quickly, suddenly guarded. “No. God, no.”

He hummed. “Maybe he should.”

She looked away. Nanami leaned back again, pleased. He didn’t show it, of course. But there was a flicker of satisfaction behind his eyes. Her little crush on Gojo wasn’t just office gossip anymore—it was leverage. Delicate. Useful. He masked his smirk by adjusting his tie, sipping his tea as if the room hadn't just shifted in his favor.

Nanami glanced over the rim of his cup, his voice smooth, casual.

“By the way… do you know when Y/N is getting back?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as though it were an afterthought.

He didn’t miss the way Suzume’s expression shifted—just a flicker, but enough. A tightening at the corners of her mouth. A dull shadow crossing her eyes.

“Monday,” she replied, curt and clipped. She set her cup down a little harder than necessary on the coaster.

Nanami smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting as if in amusement. “Ah. Took a long break, didn’t she?”

It wasn’t really a question.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, adopting a thoughtful air. This was the moment. Time to drop the hook.

“Since we’re talking,” he said, voice dropping an octave into something quieter, more vulnerable, “can I… confess something?”

Suzume blinked and nodded, instinctively leaning forward. “Of course. I’m here for you,” she said warmly, offering a small, encouraging smile.

Nanami lowered his gaze, playing the part of reluctant sharer. “I’m in a similar situation, actually. The woman I—” he paused, allowing his breath to hitch slightly for effect, “the woman I love is in love with someone else.”

Suzume’s lips parted slightly, eyes widening with empathy.

“I had a chance,” Nanami continued, his voice soft and wounded, “a brief one. But I misread the moment. And before I could do anything… another man swooped in like a hawk. Took her from me. Effortlessly.” He chuckled, sad and self-deprecating, before shaking his head. “So I understand,” he murmured. “What you’re feeling. It’s not easy—watching someone give their affection to someone who doesn’t even realize how lucky they are.”

Suzume’s shoulders slumped, heart pinched by the unexpected vulnerability in him. “I know,” she said quietly. “We all know.”

Nanami raised a brow, a mask of subtle confusion. “Know what?”

She gave a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “About your feelings for Y/N.”

Nanami stilled. Not enough to seem alarmed—just enough to feign surprise. “Oh…” he said slowly.

“Believe me,” Suzume continued, “I’m on your team. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She seems… lighter. Calmer. Happier, when she’s with you.”

Nanami’s lips curved into something gentle—grateful on the outside, victorious on the inside. “I appreciate your confidence,” he said, voice wrapped in restraint. “But…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Never mind all that.”

“No, no,” Suzume said quickly. She reached forward on instinct, placing her hand gently over his. “Please. Let me help you.”

Nanami looked down at her hand—delicate, sincere, eager—and lifted his eyes slowly, with just the right amount of hesitance. “How, Suzume?” he asked, his smile tinged with sorrow. “No one can help me.”

“Yes, I can,” she said, nodding earnestly. “Y/N is my friend. And I want what’s best for her. I won’t sway her, but I can help her see. Help her realize that you’re the right man for her.”

Nanami blinked, like the idea had never occurred to him. Like it was too generous to believe. “You’d do that?” he asked, softly. “For me?”

“Yes,” Suzume said, with unwavering conviction. “I will.”

Nanami leaned back, hand still under hers, and smiled. A quiet, deadly smile. She had no idea she had just made a deal with the devil.

“I have a feeling something bad is going to happen”, Maya said as she slowly brought the coffe mug to her lips.

“Why?”Hitoshi asked mindlessly as he chewed on his muffin. “Y/n is coming back today, you should be happy”.

“I am happy, but..”, She trailed off as her eyes fixed on Suzume walking through the double glass door of the cafeteria. She looked, different. Her hair, usually in a pony tale, was now open and cascading down her shoulder in delicate curls. Her usual attire of straight pants, shirt and cardigan now replaced by a dress. Her tennis shoes now replaced by pencil heels. She even had make up on. “Is that–”.

Hitoshi followed Maya’s gaze and his mouth hung open. “Oh my god. Why is she dressed like y/n?”.

“What?!”, Maya scoffed as she turned her attention to Hitohshi.

“Yes, She looks like y/n. The hair, makeup, even the dress. I think y/n has the same dress, no?”. He shrugged.

Maya hummed to herself. He was right. “Suzume!”. She called out and raised her hand to get her attention.

Suzume smiled when she saw Maya and Hitoshi. She walked over to them with her coffee in hand. “Hello!”. She said cheerfully.

“Hello to you!”. Hitoshi exclaimed. “What’s with the new change?”.

Suzume smiled as she gracefully sat down between Maya and Hitoshi, “Oh I just wanted to experiment”.

“Experiment?”, Maya questione.

“Yeah”, She shrugged, “Do I not look good?”. She asked, looking at Maya and Hitoshi.

The surprised pair exchanged questioning looks. Hitoshi knew Maya would never ask this so he took one for the team, “You look so much like y/n”.

“What?!”.

“Yeah”. Hitoshi shrugged.

Suzume felt attacked. She knew what she was doing but being confronted like this didn’t sit well with her. “I don’t think y/n owns a particular style”. She fidgeted with the hand of her coffee mug. “I just wanted to try something new. I thought you guys would be supportive”.

Maya sensed her agitation and gently put her hand on top of Suzume’s, “You look beautiful”. She smiled warmly.

Maya’s voice barely left her lips before Suzume stood abruptly. “I should get back,” she said with a polite smile, brushing invisible crumbs from her dress. “Client call in ten.”. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her coffee and walked away, her heels clicking steadily down the corridor. But her pace slowed as she turned the corner leading to her cabin.

There he was. Gojo. Coming out of your office, running a hand through his silver hair with that same half-smirk he wore whenever he was satisfied with himself. Suzume froze mid-step, ducking slightly behind the wall. Her breath caught. He looked… smug. Relaxed. That soft confidence that always made her heart twitch. But seeing it now, right outside your door—it stung like salt in an open wound.

She waited. When he disappeared down the hallway, she emerged, walking briskly toward your office. She didn’t knock—just pushed the door open.

You had just set your bag down on the couch and turned around, surprised. “Suzume!” Your voice was warm and genuine. “I was about to head to the cafeteria to see you and Maya.”

Suzume forced a smile, trying not to let her eyes drift, but they had already locked on it. The necklace. A delicate, glinting emerald resting on your collarbone. Elegant. Expensive. Real. Suzume knew the clarity, the depth of green—it wasn’t costume jewelry. She came from a family of jewelers; she could identify a genuine emerald from across a room. Gojo. It had to be him. Her chest tightened like a fist.

“You look amazing, by the way,” you said, tilting your head with a sincere smile. “That color really suits you.”

Suzume blinked, yanked from her spiral. She looked at you, really looked—and for a moment, her heart twisted with something sharp and ugly. But she kept the smile on.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “I… I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Welcome back.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” you replied, and she hated that you meant it.

Suzume’s eyes darted once more to the emerald on your chest. “I actually have a call,just stopped by to see if you were back” she added quickly, stepping back, “so I should head.”

You nodded, still smiling.

But Suzume was already out the door. Her composure cracked the moment she turned the corner. Her breath sped up, her heels clicked faster, her grip tightened around her coffee cup until the lid popped off.

She didn’t care anymore. The bubbling jealousy, the polished mask, the forced smiles—she had shed them all by the time she marched down the corridor toward Gojo’s office. Her heels clicked with purpose against the tiles, and she barely paused before pushing open the frosted-glass door.

Gojo looked up, his thumb still mid-text. He was alone, seated in his usual relaxed sprawl, but his bright eyes narrowed slightly in surprise. “Suzume?”

She closed the door behind her gently, slipping into the room with a too-bright smile. “Good morning!”

He returned her greeting, still clearly puzzled. “Morning. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing urgent,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, her voice light, breezy. “Just wanted to ask—how was your trip?”

Gojo’s brows lifted slightly. “Uh, it was good.” He smiled politely, still trying to gauge what this was about. “Relaxing, I guess.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said, taking a step closer before tilting her head innocently. “By the way, have you seen Y/N this morning?”

There was a beat. Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but the air in the room shifted subtly. “Ye– Why?”

Suzume gave a shrug, feigning nonchalance, but her eyes flickered, sharpening with calculated mischief. “Oh, it’s probably nothing. Nanami was looking for her. Said he had something important to tell her.”

Gojo frowned slightly, lowering his phone. “Tell her what?”

“Well…” she trailed off, as if hesitant to continue, then leaned in just a little—enough to make it seem like she was trusting him with something fragile. “We don’t really know, but... word is, it might be a confession.”

“A confession?” Gojo’s voice lost its playful edge, and now he was watching her more carefully. “Suzume, be straight with me.”

She drew back, laughing nervously. “I mean, it’s just office gossip, so who knows, right? But please—don’t tell anyone I said anything. I don’t want to be dragged into this.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. His jaw ticked once, and though he nodded, there was something unreadable in his gaze. “Right. No, I haven’t seen her,” he finally said, lying with practiced ease.

Suzume smiled sweetly, knowing exactly what he was doing. “I see. Well, I should get back to work. Have a good day, Gojo.”

She turned and walked out, her expression cool and composed until the door clicked shut behind her. Once out of sight, she pulled out her phone and typed a quick message.

Suzume: It’s done.

Nanami: Good.

Suzume: Now what?

Nanami: Wait. I’ll tell you when the time is right.

Suzume locked her screen and slid the phone back into her pocket, her heels echoing once again as she disappeared down the corridor—this time with a quiet, dangerous satisfaction curling at the corners of her lips.

Nanami placed his phone down like he was laying a relic on an altar. His smile crept in slowly, curling his lips into something unnatural. With a smooth, silent motion, he turned his chair toward the window, bathing himself in the golden morning light. It fell across his face like a halo, warm and soft—ironic, really, given the thoughts boiling beneath his skull. It felt like a divine signal, a blessing from whatever god still dared to watch. Victory, yes. That’s what this glow was. The light of inevitability.

He had been worried for weeks. The plan—his perfect, intricate plan—had been threatened by delays, unforeseen variables, Gojo’s arrogant presence. But then Suzume walked in. So eager. So desperate to be seen. And just like that, fate had handed him a scalpel. She would cut the way forward while his true machinery turned behind the scenes. Maybe, if he nudged her just right, she could even start a fire he could never be blamed for.

Let them call him evil if they wanted. Let them whisper about his darkness behind closed doors. He wasn’t evil. No. He was in love. A love so pure, so absolute, that it demanded sacrifice. When he first saw you—eyes bright with ambition, lips parted nervously in your interview—he had felt it crack open inside him. A knowing. Like the universe had ripped itself apart and whispered your name into the hollow of his soul. He had watched you through glass and paper and screens, your résumé memorized, your past dissected like a sacred text. Every friend, every interest, every secret you thought you had—he knew them already. But it wasn’t stalking. No. It was preparation. You can’t love someone if you don’t know them completely.

And when you chose his company over Domain Dynamics, he had wept. Literally fell to his knees and wept, because the gods had listened. You belonged to him. The first time you kissed—his fingers in your hair, your breath catching like a bird trapped in his hands—he felt the world stop spinning. Time slowed, warped, broke. Nothing else existed. He’d tasted you and knew: this was home. You were home.

But then… then you left. The moment Gojo arrived, it was like you forgot. Forgot the late nights, the trembling confessions, the way you said his name when no one was listening. You abandoned him. For him. A clown in a suit. A fool with a smile. A thief. You didn’t even hesitate. And that… that was where you failed him.

He could’ve given you everything. Power, money, worship. He would’ve sold his soul—his company—brick by brick to build you a palace. But you couldn’t wait. You were too blinded by Gojo’s laugh, his charm, his glinting lies. Nanami’s breath hitched, sharp and sudden, as the fury burned hot under his skin. It wasn’t your fault, not really. You were soft. Easily misled. Like a lamb. And Gojo? Gojo was the wolf. He knew what he was doing when he set eyes on you. He knew Nanami loved you. And he took you anyway.

But he wouldn’t have you for long.

Nanami leaned forward, his hands folded like a man in prayer. But his eyes were empty, cold pits of calculation. You would come back to him. You would realize your mistake. Even if he had to break the world to make it happen. Even if he had to burn everything Gojo touched and salt the ashes.

He would have you again. One way or another. A soft knock at the door shattered Nanami’s thoughts like glass underfoot. His head snapped toward the sound, every muscle in his body tensing—and then relaxing in slow, stunned waves as you stepped inside.

You.

The light from the hallway pooled behind you like a halo, making it hard to see your face at first. But he didn’t need to. He’d memorized your silhouette long ago. His heart kicked violently in his chest, thudding against his ribs like a prisoner desperate to escape. You smiled—soft, easy—and closed the door gently behind you.

“Hey,” you said with a casual warmth, walking toward the chair opposite his desk. You moved with the unbothered grace of someone who didn’t know you were the sun in someone else’s orbit. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

He swallowed hard and stood quickly, almost too quickly. “Not at all,” he said, voice unusually tight. “Please.” He gestured to the chair, already watching your every movement with obsessive intensity. You sat down and opened your bag, pulling something out wrapped in tissue paper.

“I got you something,” you said with a small laugh, setting it down on his desk. “Just a little souvenir. I saw it in this tiny shop in Bergen and thought of you.”

He stared at the package like it was a holy artifact. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for it, unwrapping the paper with a carefulness reserved for relics. Inside was a polished piece of carved wood—a traditional Norwegian troll figurine, its expression somewhere between mischievous and wise. Beside it, a small leather keychain stamped with a Viking ship.

Nanami’s breath caught.

You thought of him. In a foreign country. While with Gojo. In spite of Gojo. He felt the earth tilt slightly beneath his feet. You remembered him. You still remembered him.

“I know it’s a bit silly,” you said, brushing hair behind your ear, “but the shopkeeper said trolls are meant to bring good luck. And I figured you could use a little luck”

“It’s not silly,” Nanami replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s perfect.”

He meant it. You had no idea what that meant to him. You could’ve given him a rock from the side of the road and he would’ve kept it in a glass case. But this—this was something you chose for him.

“How was the trip?” he managed to ask, willing his voice to stay even.

“It was amazing,” you said, your smile widening. “We went on this hike outside of Oslo—up to the top of this ridge where the fjords just stretch forever. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought I was going to pass out halfway through, but Gojo somehow made it look easy. Of course.”

The name made Nanami flinch internally, but he held the smile on his face like a mask stapled into place. He clung to your words—I thought I was going to pass out. He made it look easy. You weren’t impressed. You were tired. You didn’t enjoy it as much as you could have. You would’ve enjoyed it more with someone like him. Someone who would’ve let you rest, who would’ve carried your bag, wiped the sweat from your brow like a lover should.

He pictured the two of you on that ridge instead. Your legs over his lap. Your laughter echoing over the fjords. His jacket on your shoulders. Not Gojo’s. Never Gojo’s.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said softly, the words laced with deeper meaning you didn’t catch. “Things weren’t the same here without you.”

You smiled kindly, eyes bright. “Thanks, Nanami. That means a lot.”

You didn’t see the way his hand tightened into a fist under the desk, veins bulging with restrained impulse. You didn’t hear the scream inside his mind that begged him to reach out, to tell you how everything—everything—he was doing was for you.

“How have you been? Things have been quite intense here with all the new projects, right?”. You smiled.

“I am better now. It was stressful but-”, Nanami looked down at the little figurine, “I feel it was all worth it”.

“That’s good to hear. Don’t stress yourself too much Kento. We are all here for you”.

Nanami smiled. He didn’t know what it was about you but your presence brought him peace. Just being in your presence felt like finding an oasis in the desert. “Thank you y/n, it means a lot”.

“I should get going”, You stood up and smiled at him, “Lots of work to catch up on”.

As you turned toward the door, Nanami’s voice stopped you mid-step. “I was wondering…” he began, striving for nonchalance, “would you like to grab lunch today? I’d love to hear more about your trip and I could catch you up on what you missed.”

You looked back at him, tilting your head slightly. “Sure,” you said with a smile that could melt iron. “That sounds good. It’s been a while.”

His heart slammed against his ribs. You said yes. So easily. So warmly. You wanted to spend time with him. You chose to. “Great,” he replied with quiet composure. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”

With a soft “see you then,” you stepped out of his office, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing like a slow exhale through his chest.

Nanami stared at the little wooden troll on his desk, the one you'd just handed him moments ago. It sat there, tiny and grinning, and yet in his eyes, it radiated something sacred. He reached for it gently, as though it might shatter if he held it too roughly. His thumb traced its carved smile.

You didn’t have a bag. That meant you had carried this in your hand. Through the corridors, past others—unconcerned about what anyone thought. You brought it straight to him. A piece of your trip. A piece of your time. Given only to him.

He closed his eyes and clutched the figurine to his chest. The heat of it, faint and imagined, felt like your warmth. Like a pulse in wood. “She thought of me,” he whispered, lips curling. “Even while she was with him.”

He leaned back, slow and reverent, placing the troll on his desk like it was a religious idol. He adjusted it carefully, so it would face him directly—as though it might speak, as though your voice could pass through it.

She hadn’t forgotten. No matter what mask you wore with Gojo—no matter how you smiled or laughed or touched his arm—your heart hadn’t changed. Nanami could feel it. Like a wire humming under the floorboards. You were still his. You had to be.

Lunch today would be just the beginning. He would listen. He would remember every word. Every pause. He’d find the tension in your stories. The disappointments. The subtle shadows you didn’t even know were there. He’d press, gently, carefully—until Gojo started to crumble in your eyes and when you were finally ready to see things clearly—when your heart remembered the truth—Nanami would be waiting. He always had been. The little troll sat smiling back at him, unaware it had become a symbol of devotion, obsession… and destiny.

There was too much to do and not enough time to breathe. The morning had been a blur of half-finished reports, emails demanding immediate attention, and forms that seemed to multiply every time you blinked. You were knee-deep in departmental approvals when your phone buzzed on your desk. A message from Gojo lit up the screen.

Gojo: Lunch? Just us?

You paused, thumb hovering over the keyboard. For a second, you considered changing your plans. But the polite smile Nanami gave when he asked you earlier flickered in your mind—and more importantly, the fact that it was a work lunch. You typed back:

You: I have lunch with Nanami today. He wanted to catch up on the Norway trip and go over some work stuff I missed.

You didn’t get a reply.

You assumed Gojo was busy. So were you. You buried yourself back into the digital avalanche.

An hour slipped by. You were focused on redlining a supplier contract when the door to your cabin burst open.

“Why are you having lunch with Nanami?” Gojo stood at the doorway, his brows drawn tight, his usual easy smile nowhere in sight.

Your eyes snapped up from your screen, startled. “Gojo, what are you doing?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “He asked me. He wanted to hear about the trip and update me on some things I missed while I was away.”

“Yeah, and why does he need to hear about your trip?” Gojo stepped fully into the room now, voice sharper than you were used to hearing.

You straightened in your chair, surprised by the edge in his tone. “It’s not that deep. It’s lunch. We work together.”

Gojo folded his arms, jaw clenched. “You could’ve just said no.”

“Why would I do that?” you asked, blinking in disbelief. “I’ve barely spoken to him since I got back. He was being polite.”

Gojo scoffed. “Nanami doesn’t do anything just to be polite.”

“What are you trying to say?” your voice rose slightly. “That I shouldn’t have lunch with someone just because you don’t like them?”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice but not the intensity. “I’m saying I don’t trust him. You don’t know what he’s like behind that boring façade.”

You stood now too, closing the laptop with a soft snap. “Gojo, this isn’t high school. It’s one meal, not a confession of loyalty.”

“And what about us?” he asked. “You think I want to sit around wondering what Nanami’s whispering to you over coffee and spreadsheets?”

You stared at him, stunned by the jealousy flickering just beneath his words. “You don’t get to control who I eat with, Gojo.”

The room was thick with silence. For a moment, you both just stood there—he breathing heavily, you glaring back at him, pulse quickened not from fear, but from sheer frustration.

“Lunch is lunch,” you said, voice calm but firm. “If you have a problem, maybe talk to me like an adult instead of barging in here like this.”

Gojo’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything at first. His eyes searched your face, the fire in them slowly retreating. “Fine,” he muttered eventually, stepping back. “Enjoy your lunch.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and sat back down. The lunch hadn’t even started, and somehow, it already felt like the beginning of something much more complicated.

Nanami had chosen a quiet, tucked-away bistro with soft lighting and minimal chatter—perfectly suited for private conversations. The little troll figurine you’d given him earlier that morning still sat proudly on the table beside his bento, as if it had been given a place of honor. You smiled faintly at the sight, touched by the gesture, and took your seat across from him.

He poured you a cup of tea without asking, and the two of you exchanged light pleasantries. You told him about the mountain hike, the freezing wind, and how the fog had rolled over the cliffs like a moving wall. Nanami listened closely, nodding occasionally, his expression warm—invested.

But even as he smiled and responded with quiet attentiveness, his gaze never left your face. He was reading you. Measuring every pause, every breath.

“You’re back, but you don’t seem all the way back,” he said, tone casual. “Something still on your mind?”

You gave a small, almost dismissive shrug. “Just a lot to catch up on. You know how it is.”

Nanami hummed thoughtfully and lifted his tea to his lips, studying you over the rim. “Gojo seems a bit… unsettled today. Did something happen?”

You blinked at him, mildly surprised. “You noticed that?”

“Hard not to,” he replied smoothly. “He practically slammed a door in the hallway. Not like him to be that graceless.”

You laughed softly. “He can be dramatic sometimes.”

Nanami tilted his head slightly, keeping his voice light and conversational. “Let me guess—he’s not thrilled you’re here with me?”

You looked down at your food, your expression faltering just for a second. “It’s not a big deal.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Nanami said gently, almost teasing.

You sighed, letting your guard down without realizing it. “He just… asked me not to have lunch with you. Said it was about work, but I think he got weirdly possessive.”

“Hmm,” Nanami murmured, his voice soft, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “That sounds like him.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nanami set down his chopsticks and looked at you with an air of reluctant honesty, his tone carefully measured. “Gojo doesn’t like sharing attention. Or space. Or people. Especially not when he thinks something belongs to him.”

You straightened slightly, bristling. “I’m not a thing to be shared.”

“No,” Nanami said quickly, shaking his head. “You’re not. Of course not. That’s what makes it so frustrating to watch.”

You let the silence linger a moment, sipping your tea. Nanami leaned forward just slightly, his voice quiet, tinged with concern. “Look… if my presence is creating tension between you two, I don’t want to cause problems. If it’s easier for you, I’m happy to step back.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “Nanami, no. That’s not fair. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not going to cut off a good friend just because Gojo can’t handle it.”

He held your gaze for a moment longer, then gave a small, sad smile. “You’re too kind.”

You returned to your meal, unaware of how precisely you’d been steered into that exchange. Nanami picked up his chopsticks again, but he didn’t eat right away. Instead, he watched you—his fingertips brushing the troll figurine as if it were a talisman.

She defends me. Even against him. She trusts me. She chose to tell me.

The seed had been planted. And Nanami knew exactly how to make it bloom.

Gojo sat motionless at his desk, eyes staring blankly at the glowing screen in front of him, but his mind was adrift—caught somewhere between rage and restraint. The cursor blinked in the silence like a metronome ticking toward something he didn’t want to face.

He shut his eyes and drew in a long, steady breath, trying to anchor himself. You can’t mess this up again, Satoru. Not like last time. Not with her.

But how was he supposed to stay calm when Nanami was whispering poison into your ears, turning you against him with that polished restraint and deliberate calmness? Gojo knew exactly the kind of game Nanami played—subtle, precise, emotionally manipulative in the most maddeningly rational way.

He was playing from a disadvantage—he always had been. But this time, he wasn’t going to retreat and lick his wounds. No. If Nanami expected him to burn out and spiral, Gojo would do the opposite. If Nanami thought he had the upper hand, Gojo would shift the rules entirely.

He shut his laptop with a sharp click, the sound final and decisive. Rising from his chair, he left his office without another glance. His steps were fast, purposeful—cutting through the hallways like a blade. That’s when he ran into her again.

Suzume.

She almost stumbled when their paths crossed. Gojo caught her arm, steadying her.

“Suzume,” he said, polite but unreadable.

“Mr. Gojo,” she blinked, clearly flustered. “You haven’t gone for lunch yet?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Not yet. What’s in the bag?”

Suzume’s eyes widened as she instinctively tucked the paper bag behind her back. “Oh, it’s nothing—just a delivery for Mr. Nanami. He wasn’t in, so I picked it up for him.”

Gojo’s gaze darkened slightly. “Then why are you hiding it?”

Her smile faltered. She looked away, unsure whether to lie again or fold under the weight of his stare.

“Suzume.” His voice dropped lower. Stern. Cold.

She hesitated, then slowly brought the bag in front of her, reluctantly handing it over like a child caught sneaking sweets.

Gojo opened the bag, pulled out the velvet box inside, and let the packaging drop to the floor without care. He opened the box and stared.

A necklace. A delicate butterfly pendant, glittering faintly beneath the lights—an imitation diamond piece on a chain too thick for your taste.

He let out a shaky breath, but it wasn’t relief—it was disgust, coiled and venomous. “Tell Nanami,” Gojo said quietly, snapping the box shut with a sound that echoed off the tiles, “that if it’s for Y/N, she doesn’t wear fake diamonds. Also…” he paused, offering a cruel smile, “the chain’s too heavy for her neck. She hates feeling caged.”

He pressed the box back into Suzume’s shaking hands. She didn’t dare meet his eyes.

Gojo leaned in just a little, enough for only her to hear. “He should’ve known better. Or maybe he does… but still likes playing with things that aren’t his.”

Gojo had barely taken three steps when he felt a hesitant tug at his wrist. He stopped, head tilting slightly, eyes narrowing as he turned around.

Suzume was gripping his hand—not tightly, but enough to stop him. Her eyes widened as if realizing what she’d just done. She quickly let go, her hand recoiling like it had been burned.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking down at the floor. “I just… um… I was wondering if you might… want to grab lunch with me?”

Her voice was light, nervous. A soft flush rose to her cheeks, whether from embarrassment or something else, he couldn’t tell. For a moment, Gojo’s instinct flared—his pride wounded, his mood poisoned by the pendant still etched in his memory.

He was about to refuse. Polite but distant. He didn’t have the patience for small talk or clumsy flirtations, not today.

But then, a thought struck him.

Suzume. Nervous. Observant. A little too eager.

She was clearly trying to get on someone’s good side—and it wasn’t his. Not at first. She’s closer to Nanami than I realized. And if she’s playing messenger for him, maybe she’s hearing things too.

Gojo's expression softened instantly—like flipping a switch. He smiled, slow and disarming.

“Lunch?” he echoed, the sharpness melting from his voice. “You know what… that actually sounds good.”

Suzume blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden change.

“Really?” she asked, a small hopeful lilt in her voice.

“Yeah.” He slid his hands into his pockets, gaze leveling on her. “Lead the way.”

As they began walking side by side, Gojo's eyes flicked briefly to the velvet box still clutched in her hand. He didn’t mention it. He didn’t have to. The pieces were already moving.

Let’s see what you know, Suzume, he thought, keeping his expression light. And let’s see how much you’re willing to say if I smile long enough.

They sat across from each other at a small café tucked between office buildings, a warm breeze brushing past the awning above them. Gojo stirred his iced coffee absentmindedly, eyes flicking over Suzume as she glanced shyly down at her menu.

She had dressed up a little more than usual today. Lighter lipstick, earrings that caught the light just enough, and that tentative, hopeful look she gave him over the rim of her glass—he saw it now.

And it clicked. She liked him. Oh. Gojo leaned back in his chair, a slow grin creeping across his lips. This could be useful.

“You know, Suzume,” he said lazily, propping an arm up on the back of his chair, “I didn’t realize how cute you looked when you’re nervous.”

Suzume blinked. “W-What?”

“Just saying.” He sipped his drink with casual arrogance. “It’s kind of endearing. You should smile more—you have the kind of face that makes other people smile back.”

A visible flush bloomed across her cheeks. Suzume tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave a tiny, flustered laugh. “I… didn’t think you even noticed me most days.”

“I notice more than you think,” Gojo said, his voice dropping just enough to feel deliberate. “You’re sharp. Efficient. Kind of wasted doing Nanami’s grunt work, honestly.”

Suzume looked away, visibly flattered. “He just trusts me with stuff, that’s all.”

“Does he?” Gojo leaned forward slightly, pretending interest while quietly watching her squirm. “Or does he just like keeping you close?”

She looked up in surprise. “You think Nanami—?”

“I think Nanami doesn’t do anything without a reason,” Gojo said simply, then gave her a wink. “But hey, I’m glad he’s careless enough to let someone like you slip through the cracks.”

Suzume giggled softly, taking a sip of her water to hide the grin. Then, hesitantly she asked, “Does Y/N… mind? You having lunch with me, I mean.”

Gojo raised a brow. “Why would she?”

Suzume shrugged. “I don’t know. You two seem… close.”

Gojo gave a soft, amused chuckle and leaned in, resting his chin in his palm. “Let me be clear about something, Suzume.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed.

“No one tells me what to do. Not Y/N, not Nanami, no one. If I want to have lunch with a beautiful and intelligent woman who clearly deserves more attention than she’s been getting…” He let that hang in the air for a moment. “Then I’m going to do exactly that.”

Suzume practically glowed.

He tilted his head slightly. “Unless you don’t want to have lunch with me. I’d understand. Could always go eat alone, sulking in a dark corner of the office.”

“No, no,” she said quickly, too quickly. “I’m really happy you agreed. I mean—I didn’t think you would, but—”

Gojo smiled. “Good. I like being unpredictable.”

Their food arrived, and as Suzume eagerly launched into a story about a client she dealt with that morning, Gojo nodded along, half-listening. Under the table, he tapped his foot slowly, rhythmically. A quiet beat of strategy.

Suzume had a crush. Nanami was distracted.

If this was going to be a game, then he’d play it with the same recklessness that had always kept people guessing and now, he had a new pawn on the board. Willing, eager, and completely unaware.

Gojo smiled again, this time to himself. Let the game begin.

The office was unusually quiet that morning. The kind of stillness that settled like fog before a storm. Suzume walked in with a little spring in her step, still replaying yesterday’s lunch in her mind—Gojo’s laughter, his voice, the way he said beautiful and intelligent. She’d barely slept.

She reached her desk, fingers adjusting the collar of her blouse, and stopped dead in her tracks.

A box. Not just any box—a Cartier box.

It sat there, perfectly centered on her desk like it had been waiting just for her. Her breath caught. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out and touched the velvet red case, the unmistakable gold trim shimmering under the office lights.

She glanced around—no one was watching. With a shaky breath, she opened it.

Inside was a delicate Cartier Love necklace. Rose gold. Classic. Elegant. Undeniably expensive.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Tucked into the satin lid was a small note, cream-colored, embossed in neat calligraphy:

Only the best for a woman like you. —G.S.

For a full second, her mind blanked.

G.S.

Her lips parted, barely forming the words.

“Gojo Satoru…”

Her fingers traced the fine curve of the pendant. She had admired this exact design online more times than she could count. Daydreamed about someone thinking her worthy of something so precious. But this—this wasn’t a dream.

She unfastened the chain, almost too eagerly, and slipped it around her neck. The metal was cold against her skin, sending a chill down her spine. She clasped it shut and looked down at the reflection in her phone screen.

It looked perfect. Like it belonged there. She brushed her fingers lightly over the charm and smiled. Her cheeks flushed, her heart hammering against her chest.

She turned to grab her coffee, but something in the air shifted. A quiet voice in the back of her mind asked, Why would Gojo Satoru give you this? But she crushed it quickly, like snuffing out a candle. He noticed me. He said I deserved more attention.This necklace—this wasn’t just a gift. It was a message. He saw her and now, she was wearing proof around her neck.

The café across the street from the headquarters was buzzing, but your table in the corner had a little pocket of calm to it. You sat across from Suzumeand Hitoshi, Maya and Gojo sat beside you, leisurely sipping his iced coffee as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You were halfway through your salad when a glint of light caught your eye—rose gold, delicate, unmistakably Cartier. Your gaze flicked up.

Around Suzume’s neck hung a Cartier Love necklace, the rose-gold band sitting perfectly against her skin like it had been made for her.

You swallowed and casually asked, “That’s a nice necklace. Where did you get it?”

Suzume’s fork paused mid-air. Her eyes darted to yours for a moment too long. Something about your tone made her shoulders tighten.

She gave a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s… from someone I’ve recently started seeing.”

There was something defensive in her voice. As if she thought you were mocking her—questioning whether someone like her could really wear something like that. Your brows lifted ever so slightly, not in judgment but in curiosity, though Suzume seemed to misread it completely.

Before you could say anything else, Gojo leaned forward, eyes flicking to the necklace.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he said smoothly, voice low and warm.

Suzume’s face lit up. She tilted her chin down slightly, fingertips brushing the pendant as if to draw more attention to it. “Thanks,” she said, breathy.

Gojo offered her a small, knowing wink—quick, almost imperceptible.

Maya’s interest immediately perked up. “Oh? A new guy? Tell us more!”

Suzume leaned in, confidence blooming like a slow flower. “He’s amazing. Really thoughtful. Always knows what I like without me having to say it. Honestly, he’s the best man I’ve ever been with.”

Across the table, Hitoshi whistled, raising his brows. “He must be loaded if he’s giving you Cartier.”

Suzume gave him a look—half-playful, half-dismissive. “It’s not about the money, Hitoshi. It’s the effort. He notices the little things.”

Her eyes slid to Gojo as she said it, and she smiled again. Gojo didn’t miss the cue. He returned her smile with one of his own—charming and just vague enough to be misread by anyone who wasn’t paying attention. But Maya was paying attention.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She watched the smile pass between them like an invisible thread.

You tilted your head, tone light but curious. “He sounds like a catch. I’d love to meet him sometime.”

Suzume blinked. Her smile tightened just a little. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

You raised an eyebrow at her response, but before the moment stretched too far, she turned sharply toward Gojo. “So, Mr. Gojo, how was your trip?”

Gojo took a sip of his drink, eyes still glinting. “It was great. Norway’s always beautiful. The fjords, the little towns, the air—nothing like it.”

He kept his voice smooth and steady, dancing around any details that might tie his experience to you. He didn’t mention the quiet moments you shared on that secluded hike, or the way your laughter echoed down mountain paths. None of that would help him now.

Suzume listened intently, nodding as if she was memorizing every word. “Sounds like a dream.”

“It was,” Gojo said, glancing at you just once from the corner of his eye—just enough to see if you caught anything in his tone. Then his attention swung back to Suzume. “But it’s always good to be back.”

Suzume’s eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to go to Norway. It looks like a dream.”

“Maybe you can go with your new man”. Hitoshi commented with a wink.

“Maybe I will”. She quipped.

Gojo glanced at her with a lopsided smile. “Maybe we should.” Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “We should all go.”

You nodded, thinking nothing of it. “I wouldn’t mind going again”

Maya arched a brow at the suggestion but said nothing, simply sipping her drink.

Hitoshi chuckled. “If someone’s paying, I’m packing tonight.”

Everyone laughed, the moment light again. Suzume, however, was glowing. She turned her head, letting the pendant catch the light again, clearly relishing every second. And Gojo? He leaned into the moment, calm and unreadable, every move intentional

Nanami’s office was quiet, awash in the mellow glow of a desk lamp as late afternoon light spilled through the blinds. The hum of conversation and clacking keyboards beyond the glass was faint, almost muffled — a soft reminder that the day was still ticking forward.

Maya stood by his desk, holding a tablet, flipping through reports on the latest client onboarding metrics.

“I think if we stagger the internal review with client comms, we can bring the close date forward by at least two days,” she explained.

Nanami nodded, eyes scanning the document she’d just handed him. “That would work. Good call.”

There was a moment of silence as he leaned back, the chair creaking slightly.

Then, in a casual tone, Nanami asked, “By the way... how’s Suzume doing?”

Maya blinked, caught off guard. “Suzume?”

“Yes.” Nanami tapped his pen against the armrest, feigning disinterest. “Just noticed she’s seemed... a bit distracted lately. Not in a disruptive way — just not quite her usual self.”

Maya paused, unsure where this was going. “I guess... she’s been a little more talkative than usual. But I haven’t noticed anything serious.”

Nanami gave a nonchalant shrug, as if it hardly mattered. “Mm. I only ask because I’ve seen a few moments — in the team meetings especially — where she seemed a bit… off. And maybe a little cold toward you?”

Maya’s eyes narrowed. “Cold how?”

He held up his hands slightly. “Could be nothing. Maybe I’m reading into things. But she barely acknowledged your idea in yesterday’s review — which was strange, considering she usually backs your suggestions without question.”

Maya folded her arms. “Why are you telling me this?”

Nanami offered a smooth smile. “Just making sure there’s no tension in the team that could affect delivery. That’s all.”

Maya hesitated. Her instincts told her to be careful. But the concern in Nanami’s voice — so calm, so reasonable — made her guard falter.

She exhaled slowly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to someone about it, actually.”

Nanami leaned forward slightly, just enough to signal interest without pushing. “Go on.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Maya began, lowering her voice slightly. “But I think Suzume might be... infatuated with Gojo.”

Nanami’s expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker of recognition. “Really?”

Maya nodded, frustration creeping into her voice. “She keeps staring at him in meetings. Laughing a little too hard at his jokes. And last week at lunch, she couldn’t stop smiling at him. She even wore a Cartier necklace and claimed some mystery man gave it to her.”

Nanami leaned back again, arms crossed. “I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like Gojo. He’s... not exactly subtle if he’s involved with someone. He’d flaunt it.”

Maya frowned. “I didn’t say Gojo’s reciprocating. I’m just saying something feels off.”

“I see.” Nanami tapped the pen against his desk once, twice. Then stopped. “Maybe you should talk to Y/N about it.”

Maya blinked. “Why?”

Nanami met her eyes. “Because if something’s really going on — even if it’s one-sided — Y/N should know. Especially if it’s going to turn messy.”

Maya looked down, conflicted.

“You’re close to her,” Nanami added, voice low and measured. “She’ll trust you. Better it comes from you than someone else.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Maya gave a small nod. “Alright. I’ll talk to her.”

Nanami smiled faintly and returned to the file on his desk. “Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

Maya walked out, still unsure whether she’d done the right thing — while behind her, Nanami’s smile slowly faded, replaced by something far more calculating.

The soft golden hue of the setting sun stretched across the quiet neighborhood, casting long shadows against the pavement. Trees rustled gently with the spring breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to one another as Maya waited outside your door, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat. The look on her face was unreadable — a blend of concern, hesitation, and quiet resolve.

You opened the door, surprised to see her.

“Maya? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…” She gave a tight smile. “Thought you might like to go for a walk. Clear our heads. You’ve been cooped up with those campaign reviews all day.”

You hesitated for a beat — her tone was casual, but you knew Maya well enough to sense when something was off.

“Sure. Just give me a sec to grab a sweater.”

A few minutes later, the two of you were walking down the quiet, tree-lined street, the occasional car humming past. The air was crisp, the kind that makes your lungs feel clean, and for a while, neither of you spoke. You appreciated the silence — Maya often gave you space to think when she sensed you needed it. But today, she was the one struggling with her thoughts.

Finally, she spoke.

“You ever get a gut feeling about someone and you can’t shake it?”

You glanced at her. “This about work?”

She sighed. “Sort of. It’s about Suzume.”

You stopped mid-step, then resumed walking slowly. “Okay… what about her?”

Maya took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been watching her the past week or so — not in a weird way, just… observing. And something’s changed. She’s constantly hovering around Gojo. Sitting closer in meetings. Laughing at things that aren’t even funny.”

You frowned. “Suzume’s always been a little… eager around new people. Maybe she’s just trying to fit in?”

“It’s not just that,” Maya said firmly. “She’s... infatuated. And I think she’s trying to get his attention. Honestly, I think she has it.”

You stopped walking. The word infatuated echoed in your mind longer than it should have. You stared ahead, lips pressed in a thin line.

“She’s been wearing that new necklace every day,” Maya added. “Said it was from someone she’s started seeing. At lunch, she couldn’t stop smiling at Gojo. He even winked at her.”

Your stomach tightened, but you kept your expression even. “That could mean anything.”

Maya gave you a long look. “I know how this sounds, okay? I’m not trying to make you suspicious for no reason. I just… something feels off. And I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell you.”

You stayed silent, the wind brushing strands of hair across your face.

Internally, your thoughts swirled. A week ago, you might’ve believed every word Maya just said. But now? Things between you and Gojo had shifted. He’d opened up to you. Let you see a part of him he rarely shared with anyone. You couldn’t let your past — the betrayal you swore you’d never let happen again — cloud your judgment.

“I appreciate you telling me,” you said quietly. “I really do. But you don’t have any actual proof.”

Maya stopped walking. “So you’re not going to say anything?”

You met her eyes. “Not yet. If something is going on, it’ll come to light. But until then… I trust him.”

Maya looked unconvinced, but she didn’t push. “Okay. Just... be careful, alright?”

You nodded. “I will.”

The two of you continued walking, but the silence now felt heavier — weighted with things unspoken. Behind you, the shadows of the street grew longer, the sun dipping just beneath the horizon, as if warning that some truths were better seen in the dark.

Somewhere behind you, hidden in the folds of the night, a pair of eyes watched from across the street — from the shadows behind a parked car.

A phone screen dimmed.

Someone walked away, unseen, happy that his bait had landed.

@commandertorindhepard @inlove-maze @starlightanyaaa @missybrat @lem-hhn @valleydoli @definetlythinkimanalien @luckyangelballoon @sheep-infog @gojoprincesss @kanaojacksonofc @bubera974 @ginginha @mari-ho14 @mashtura @concretewishes

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froggybells · 2 years ago

Text

Home (Is Wherever I'm With You)

(a/n: I smell a seriessss!)

tags: Gojo x Reader, Megumi thinks of reader as his mom (but that's for later hehe)

part 1!

part 2 —> here

It was a normal day. Well, as normal as it gets with someone like Gojo Satoru as a teacher. The second years were already accustomed to Gojos “unique” style of teaching, but first years Nobara and Itadori were still… let's say confused. Now obviously, out of all the students, Megumi was the one who could best predict Gojo’s antics. Knowing him for the better part of his life, he knew his teacher’s extravagant personality would eventually begin to repeat.

Megumi was 6 when Gojo first found him. Megumi was also 6 when Gojo scooped him up and took him back to his apartment. Normally, you’d think a 6 '3 man carrying a small child over his shoulder, while the child was obviously not happy, would garner some attention. But in all of his Gojo-ness, he simply would swoon the people around him.

“Honey! I’m home” He yelled from the entrance of your apartment. “Satoru, You said you would be gone for 30 minutes, it's been-” You were cut off by the sight of your boyfriend holding a small raven haired child, who would obviously be anywhere else but here. “Did you kidnap a kid?! I knew you were crazy, but this is something else!” You quickly wiped your hands on your apron, rushing over to see if the small boy was ok.

“I hardly doubt this is a child, Y/N. He acts like an adult!” Gojo laughed. “It’s easy for you to say since you act like a child.” the small boy grumbled, heading towards the exit. Gojo put his hand on the kid's head, stopping him from moving, but not breaking eye contact with you. “Y/N, I told you, this is the best way to have leverage over his clan, and-” You cut him off there, not wanting to hear what he has to say. “YOU KIDNAPED A ZEN’IN?!” You screeched.

“I told you about this in bed the other day! You agreed it was a good idea!” Gojo retaliated. “It was pillow talk! I wasn’t taking anything you said seriously!” “LISTEN TO ME!” Megumi said, punching Gojo on the leg. “I need to go home now! My sister is waiting for me!” You looked at the small boy, and then at your boyfriend. “There were two of them and you only took the boy?! Real classy, Satoru.” Gojo threw his hands up in defense. “The other one isn’t-” You interrupted him. “I’m kidding. I can tell this one has the Ten Shadows.” You observed the small boy. Gojo was right, he appeared more mature for his age.

“Alright kiddo,” you began, kneeling down to match his height, “Let’s go get your sister and some extra clothes, okay? You both can live here with us for a few days, and if you don’t like it, we can arrange something else for you.”

#jujutsu gojo #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu megumi #mom!reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk megumi #megumi x mom! reader #jujustu kaisen

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slotumn · 5 months ago

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Now that 5.5 has voices, some fun facts

Jun has a bit of a dialect accent/intonation (Gyeongsang, I'm pretty sure). As in he's not actually speaking in dialect, but it's like a guy who spoke dialect for most his life speaking in standard Korean

Geomgye (Korean name for Blade Lineage) was a real criminal group in late Joseon. Unlike Project Moon's Blade Lineage they were just criminals, no grace to fall from or anything

However there was also an anti-Imperial Japanese resistance group that called itself Geomgyedan in the early 20th century as well; not much is known about them because there were lots of resistance groups, and we don't know whether they have a direct connection to the above Geomgye or just took on the name, but yeah

Bamboo-hatted Kim and Aengdu both speak in a slightly old-timey/"classy" way. They're not "talks like actual literary prose" a la Yi Sang, but there's still some similar quirks there

Funnily enough the other S-corp characters from Canto 4, like Dongrang and Dongbaek and so on, have modern speech patterns

Kurokumo Clan isn't called Kurokumo in Japanese, they're Ko'unkai (on'yomi pronunciation)

#slotalks #project moon #limbus company #lcb #bamboo-hatted kim #jun lcb #aengdu lcb #blade lineage

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muzansfangs · 2 years ago

Note

Sharing a threesome idea real quick

Byakuya x reader x kenpachi

Belladonna.

Starring: Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader x Zaraki Kenpachi;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, post Aizen’s betrayal, sparring, hair pulling, choking, language, degradation kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, slut-shaming, face slapping, rough sex, double penetration, anal sex, scratching, marking, creampie, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, brat taming, oral sex (Kenpachi!receiving);

Plot: When you went to an old bar in the Seireitei to celebrate the beginning of your new career as a Captain for the Gotei 13, you did not expect to bump into you hot-headed former Captain, Zaraki Kenpachi. Your mutual hostility and rivarly made him challenge you into a fight that soon escalated into something more. Caught in the middle of the pouring rain, you ended up finding shelter in a nearby cellar, only to stumble in Byakuya Kuchiki. Insults, resentement and passion made you three lose your shame and composure as you promised yourselves not to talk about that ordeal anymore.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

When you walked into an old bar in the outskirts of the Seireitei, the white haori fluttering around your form surley drew some curious glances from the drunk men chugging down low-quality saké at the large counter on your left. You were used to people murmuring at the sight of your persona and it did not bother you at all. You were quite the controversial character and your name was well known by the upper class as well as by the delinquents inhabiting the Rukongai.

Now, as the chattering around you intensified, you did not even glance at the lower ranks glaring at you and, keeping your chin up in a arrogant demeanor, you strode straight towards the battered table in the back of the bar. You were a usual there. Yet, this time, something was different. You were not a simple member of the Eleventh Division anymore, you were a Captain. The black number sewed on the back of your haori made some of the recruits shake.

Nine.

You had taken the vacant place as a Captain of the Gotei 13. After Kaname Tosen's betrayal, you had not hesitated to step up and claim what you believed was yours. Feared, respected, honored, full of yourself, you were proud to be finally free from the orders of your now former Captain.

"A bottle of saké. The best one you got, thanks" you spoke out, tossing a good amount of money on the counter on your way to your favorite table. The sound of the golden coins clattering onto the wooden surface made the waiter whip his head towards you, his hand already reaching up for shiny medals before his eyes. Apparently, it was his lucky day.

Plopping down onto the bench, granting you a clear view of the whole bar, you rested your feet over the table as you waited for your order. Unhinged, reckless, rude, cruel. Those were just some of the adjectives people picked to describe you. Overall, a rogue. But those who really knew you, oh dear, they called you the classy doll, the rebellious noble, the rich brat, or the capricious princess.

And the worst part of it was that they were right.

Just the idea of being forced to marry him, the stoic heir of the Kuchiki clan made you want to barf. Therefore, not only you had refused to give yourself to him, but you had literally abandoned your family and the glorious position you had in your clan. Enrolling at the Academy was your only choice back then. Soon enough, you found out you were exceptionally skilled at wielding a sword and no woman or man in your year could make you bend the knee.

Obviously, you were a good match for the infamous Eleventh Division and that was how you ended up fighting alongside the bloodthirsty Zaraki Kenpachi. He taunted you for your grace, pointing out how you were even more obsessed with yourself and composure than your comrade Yumichika. This probably contributed to bring out the worst in you.

When the waiter finally settled the bottle of saké in front of you, a smug grin graced your lips and you triumphantly proceeded to pour yourself some of it to start the night with a bang. As soon as you brought the cup to your lips, though, you widened your eye in irritation at the sight of the tall man entering the bar, his heavy footsteps echoing in the now silent area.

Zaraki Kenpachi.

You gritted your teeth, your free hand reaching up to remove the black eyepatch on your left eye as you made sure to let your reiatsu clash with his one, when he made eye-contact with you. Some recruits faltered, some others even scurried out of the bar, sensing how the air had gotten exponentially denser, gloomier. Your hands slammed over the table, the saké spilling out of the cup, splattering on your uniform and the dark wooden surface.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you blurted out, glaring at him as he finally stopped a few feet away from you.

"What an insufferable brat you are. Calm your tits, princess. — Zaraki croaked out, tilting his head to the side, sizing you up with an unreadable face before continuing — So it's true, I see. You've made it, in the end".

You narrowed your eyes at him, blood boiling in your veins at the sound of that nickname you loathed with every molecule of your body. He knew you did not want to hear anyone hinting at your noble lineage. The gold and the parades belonged to your past. A past you did not want to talk about anymore.

"What is it? Didn't you trust the rumors enough to believe them? Did you really come all the way here to ascertain whether I was the new Captain in charge of the Ninth Division, or not? It's a wonder how you've not got lost in the process..." you sassed, your words dripping haughtiness and bumptiousness.

Zaraki sighed and unsheathed his chipped sword, causing some drinkers to freeze, eyes darting on you two in anticipation. They perfectly knew what was about to happen and you did too, a devious smirk making its way on your lips as you reached for the hilt of your sword almost instinctively. You were honestly up for some fun. This fight, actually, was long overdue. After decades spent in bickering and taunting each other, it was only fair to let one of those spark igniting a great fire.

"Bring your ass out of this place, princess. I am here to fight. I believe you make a poor excuse of a Captain" he stated in a raspy voice, staring you down in disdain.

Nobody around you dared to talk. Your malicious grin, however, spoke volumes as you unsheathed your sword and laisurely walked out of the bar. The hunger for glory and a bloody, exciting fight, typical characteristics of your former Division, were now kicking in again. You yearned to taste blood on your teeth, to slash and stab your opponent once and for all to show him you were not the frail little princess in distress who had found shelter in the Academy.

"Are you so sure about it? Maybe I'm just going to chop you up and steal your title. Perhaps, I will become the real Kenpachi" you provoked him, your tone of voice infuriatingly mocking as you located a good spot to fight without causing too much trouble to the citizens.

The way he laughed made you falter, though. Your grip on the hilt of your zanpakuto tightened significantly, your eyes locking with his ones as you adopted a defensive stence to prevent a possible attack from him.

"Look at you. Haven't I taught you to act instead of wasting your time in meaningless talk with your opponent? That's a duel, not a chit-chat. But I guess I shouldn't get too mad about it. Some royal ass like you would have never fitted the Eleventh Division anyway" Zaraki bitterly retorted, a wave of his reiatsu washing over you in a intimidating manner.

Your right eye twitched, his words hitting a nerve, and trusting into your abilities blindly you sprinted towards him. You swung your blade towards his neck, aiming for his pulsing jugular, enjoying the air whipping your face harshly. The adrenaline was immense, joy and fieriness burning in your eyes, but the sound of your swords clashing brought you back to reality. You were close now, maybe too close considering his immense physical strength, distancing yourself from him would have been a wise move but he clearly had other plans.

His free hand snapped up towards your wrist, his iron grip making you wince out in pain, as he tossed you far away into a dark alley. The impact of your back against the wall knocked the air out of your lungs temporary, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you slumped down onto the ground. The pain was immense, but you had endured worse wounds and blows in your career.

Groaning out in pain, you rolled on your side, you hand reaching out for your balde hastily until he stepped over it and towered over you. His shadow loomed over your frame as a hollow and you felt your mouth going dry. That was going to he a problem.

Zaraki grinned down at you tangled his tick fingers in your hair, yanking your hair back to make eye-contact with you. His breath was hot against your cold skin, as he pinned you up against the wall once again. Your feet kicked the air aimlessly in a futile attempt to kick him between his legs.

"Pathetic. Not even Kurosaki had such a poor performance at our first match" he mocked you, earling a spit on his face that left him totally unfazed, albeit he snorted and pressed you harder against the wall with his massive body.

Both of your hands gripped his large wrist, clawing at his flesh to somehow get him to release the painful grip on your hair. He was literally holding you up as if you were a weak kitten. Your scalp stung, your teeth were gritted as you lashed out at him "Leave me alone then! Why wasting your time with me?" you shouted at his face, earning a scornful glance from him.

"Maybe I don't wanna fight. Maybe I just feel this urge to tame you and your bratty ass once and for all" he hissed at your face, the hand holding your hair now wrapped around your neck and making you choke on your own words, throat contracting to suck in some precious air he was depriving you of.

You narrowed your eyes, your leg wrapping around his hip as you planted your hand over his chiseled abs. The only chance you had to escape this deadly grip was probably using a kidō. Grinning up at him, although your face had turned purple, you whispered some soft words that made an explosion between you two.

"Hadō 31. Shakkahō" you said, earning a groan from the masthodontic man before you.

The red flame cannon exploding between you two made him retreat of a few steps. His grip on your neck loosened, as you slumped down on the dirty ground with a grunt. Panting, you squinted, trying to scrutinize the area in search for him. The greyish smoke, however, was still too thick for you to discern anything more than the pebbles underneath your feet. Your breath was still uneven as you picked your blade back up, twirling it between your fingers with expertise as you tried to follow his reiatsu.

It was crazy how you could still sense his iron grip on your neck even now that his fingers were no longer wrapped around your throat to squeeze the life out of you. The was your heart was thumping into your cheeks, making you feral, searching glory and letting your heart follow the basic, animalistic desires, was incredible. It was as if he had awakened a dark side of you caged in the depths of your mind.

The loud thunder exploding above you, heavy and tenebrous clouds obscuring the once limpid sky, contributed to the crescendo of anxiety enveloping your heart. What did you want? Him, at your feet. Now. You wanted to defeat him, just like he wanted to break you.

Inhaling sharply, your detected his blow and you swung your blade up above your head to block his lethal slash. The metallic clash of your swords made you whip your head towards him, the smoke finally clearing out as he now was so close to you. His superior physical strength made you stumble back for the impact, only fueling the primordial desire to prove yourself.

"Did you honestly believe I was going down so disgracefully? That's not my style" you cooed, standing back up, dusting away some dirt from the once snow-white haori embracing your figure.

"You've been lucky. Those knees of yours will eventually bend before me. — Zaraki said, pointing his sword at you menacingly — Look at you, still bothering to clean up your clothes instead of focusing entirely on me. You need to improve your concentration instead of yapping and playing the princess in the middle of a duel" the Captain of the Eleventh Division pointed out, making you glare at him in disdain.

He never praised you. Not even once. Not in your entire life. Maybe that irked you more than you liked you admit and that feeling of not being enough to make him proud of you surely played a major role in makinf you push past your limits, work harder to accomplish your goals. Your ambition and determination came from years of starvation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a cool droplet splattering on the tip of your nose not making you flinch at all. You were too far gone to care about it. The sound of the rain pattering on the desolate street, on your clothes and blade, drenching your hair and making goosebump raise on your body did not nothing to sooth your nerves

You both decided to move in the same exact moment. Your faces were only a few inches apart, when your swords clashed again, a strained scream of fury echoing around you as you engaged a close-up battle. Your uniforms soon were torn in various parts, skin exposed as the blood from the small cuts mingled with the pouring rain washing it away. Your breath was uneven, as you ended up in a blind alley. Admitting your defeat was an option you were not contemplating, but your muscles ached, your breath was too shallow to go ahead and, much to your dismay, you were running out of stamina.

With a last blow, Kenpachi made your grip on your zanpakuto loosen and your back hit the wall behind you. The jagged edge of his blade pressed up against your neck, water dripping down your face, a defiant glare gleaming in your eyes as he towered over you.

"Pathetic" he barked out, earning a groan of frustration from you as you lolled your head back against the wall to distance your tender neck from the dreadful blade piercing it.

You gritted your teeth, back flattened against the cold surface behind you "Why don't you kill me then?" you asked him plainly.

Zaraki lowered his sword, his hand replacing it once again as he pressed you harder against the smooth surface at your back "Because I told you I was going to make you bend the knee, not kill you" he snarled, hitting the back of your knee and loosening his grip on you. The impact of your rotula against the asphalt made you yelp, eyes shooting up in contempt as you watched him undo the white knot keeping his pants up.

Your blood ran cold. The defeat on your tongue suddenly tasting better than the awarness of being out in a semi-public place in such a compromising position. It was not like someone could see you there. It was still raining pretty hard, this area was hardly patrolled anyway. As much as you wanted to tell him to go to hell, you had to admit this whole situation was making something stir within you.

"What's up now? Is the princess too uptight to let loose? Or is it the fact that you probably lack the talent to please me?" Zaraki taunted you, as your eyes widened even so slightly, hand reaching up to wipe some water off of your face.

No, you could not let him believe that too. You were too proud for that.

"Fuck you" you fired back, exhaling through your nosetrils in exhasperation, before taking action. Your head whipped to your right, checking out if someone was turning the corner, then you reached both of your hands up to tug his pants down his thighs.

And, obviously, you were not disappointed in the slightest. Your mouth parted, a small, inaudible gasp escaping your lips as he gripped your hair tightly to catch your attention. Grimacing in pain, you flicked your gaze up to meet his restentful and arrogant one.

"Eyes on me. Show me that you are closer to be harlot rather than a princess" he challenged you, only for your hand to wrap around his cock and giving it a few firm and languid stroke.

Kenpachi groaned softly, amused by the fact that your hand could barely wrap around his whole girth. You wondered if you were going to make it fit in your mouth, but you also knew that he was not going to let you have the command of the situation. Not at all, not even for a second.

"You're going to choke on your words pretty soon" you hissed, mouth parting as your tongue darted out to livk and tease his pinkish tip.

The way he thrused his hips forward, fingers tangled in your hair to keep you in place though, made you regret your words and your eyes widened for the sudden intrusion in your mouth. He showed no mercy at all, your throat almost contracting as you breathed through your nose. You had littel time to adjust as he drew back before snapping his hips forward again, setting up a rather relentless pace to literally fuck your mouth.

The gag reflex at first made it so hard for you to relax, eyes squeezed shut as his cock bullied the back of your throat. Your warm mouth was perfect for him. The pleasure and satisfaction it provided him was immense, his feral grunts filling the air around you as he hoarsely chuckled, looking down at the way your nails dug into his thighs for support.

Drool was running down your chin, his cock disappearing into your stretched mouth making him realize how good of a girl you could be if someone like him took the reins.

"Look at you. It looks like you are the one choking now" he groaned out, giving a few last thrusts before pulling out of you.

Coughing, you fell forward as he stepped away from you. Your hands preventing you from falling face first as you panted, tears still making your eyes burn. Your throat was definitely sore now, speaking was not something you could do right away.

A large hand wrapping around your forearm and pulling you back on your feet made you jolt, Zaraki's mouth capturing your lips in a fervent kiss bringing you back on Earth. You did not protest, your hands cupping his cheeks, as he hooked his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you up. The cellar at your back could provide you some shelter from the rain and the right amount of privacy for continuing what had started.

As he kicked the door open, he roughly let you down. You did not have enough time to talk, his calloused hands gripping your hips and spinning you towards the wall. The palms of your hands flattened on the wall, eyes closing, when he dragged your pants and underwear down your legs.

"Spread your fucking legs" he roared in your ear, fingers already slipping between your thighs to torment your throbbing clit. It was not a surprise for him feeling how wet you already were. His rough digits had no problem at all in slipping past your folds, plunging deep into your core to prompt strained moans from you.

"You better hurry up and not be a disappointment, Kenny" you breathed out, back arching as you rested your forehead against the wall. His fingers thrusting in and out of you sent shivers down your spine, your thighs quivering as you closed your eyes in bliss. A bliss destined to vanish abruptly as a familiar reiatsu dawned on you two.

How? How was he there?

Your head turned to glance back above your shoulder, greyish eyes boring judgementally into yours. Byakuya Kuchiki, the standoffish man you had refused to marry back then, was standing a few feet away from you two, his neat clothes giving him his typical regal appearence that made your blood boil into your veins.

"I'm not into exhibitionism. Move away" you blurted out, soft whimpers falling from your lips as Zaraki kept on curling his fingers into you relentlessly. You were close, sweat beading your forehead as you tried to restrain your orgasm.

The lewd squelching sounds echoing into the room made you blush, as Zaraki stared down at Byakuya in contempt "What is it? Are you envious or are you a virgin? Don't you know how to handle a woman? No wonder she refused your hand back then" he sarcastically commented, making you roll your eyes as he slipped his fingers out of your aching cunt.

Everyone knew it. The entire Seireitei knew that you had decided to turn your back on your family and choose to get your hands dirty instead of getting married to him. Albeit Byakuya never allowed his fragilities and emotions to slip past his stoic façade, you knew your stunt had hurt his feelings.

As Zaraki forced you to get on all fours on the floor, groans of protests erupting from your throat, you locked eyes with the noble man standing tall before you. His eyes were seemingly reduced to slits, as he watched the way Zaraki latched one of his hands behind your neck to keep you in place, while the other lined his cock to your opening. You were going mad. The anticipation of hearing Byakuya venomously retort something paired with the burning desire of feeling Zaraki split your walls apart, fill you up the brim, were making your body tremble.

“I would have never married a whore anyway” the Captain of the Sixth Division broke the silence again, stepping forward until he knelt right before you.

You felt your blood pump fast in your veins, rage and wrath blinding you as you opened your mouth to clearly make him regret his words. But the smack on your face, the way your head snapped to the side, even if it was not meant to truly hurt you, made you shudder. You had not seen it coming, too distracted by your irritation and the way Kenpachi’s cock dragged up and down your slit to collect your juices on his length.

“You never wished to be treated like a loved wife, did you? That is the kind of treatment your cunning heart ardently craved? It would be just direspectful of me not to be indulgent with you now, right?” Byakuya calmly said, his words ringing in your head like a death sentence, lips parted in disbelief, when you watched him unfasten his robes.

“You are a freak just like the others, Kuchiki Byakuya. Let’s do this then. I have nothing to lose. But you have factually lost my respect and admiration” you pointedly remarked, whining softly as Zaraki squeezed your left rear to catch your attention again.

With your eyes transfixed on Byakuya’s chiseled abs, on his bulge, you simply got the hint of what he wanted. Raising up on your knees, you let Byakuya help you to straddle him, the tip of his cock pressing into your warm cavern. As he gradually let you sink down onto him, a strained moan left your throat as you gripped his shoulders to adjust to his size. He stretched you perfectly, your walls clenching onto his length so deliciously that even his composed self was forced to let out soft groan.

“Really now? You think you can just walk in and steal my bitch like that? I’m fucking sure it’s mine the name she’ll scream while coming” Zaraki growled, his tick fingers now trying to prep your puckered hole for what was yet to home.

The soft grunts of Byakuya, the pleasure coiling in your lower abdomen made you relax a little, despite the slightly uncomfortable feeling of being stimulated in such a delicate spot. Your shallow breaths mingled with Byakuya’s ones, forcing you two to make an intense eye-contact.

It was weird remembering how much you loathed him right now, or how you thought you would have never let him touch you even with a finger. It was almost degrading, humiliating, your eyes squeezed shut as he reached your g-spot with a particularly hard snap of his hips. Your movements were meeting his thrusts, high-pitched moans now piercing the ears of the two men feasting on you.

There was passion, hate, aggression between you two.

The moment Zaraki finally pulled his fingers out of you to replace them with his cock, your nails scratched down Byakuya’s back hard enough to leave crescent moons marks onto his flawless skin. It hurt quite a bit, your muscles struggling to relax as the air seemed to be knocked out of your lungs.

The stretch was immense, unbearable, your wobbling lips brushing against the ones of the noble man you were riding. You did not think he would have showed you some mercy at this point, but when he kissed you passionately, his hand gripping your jaw roughly to keep your head in place, you knew he was finally letting his mask slip off to let his emotions take over.

You let out a strained moan he gladly swallowed, Zaraki’s thrusts being firm and steady as you gradually allowed your muscles to relax. You had never in your life experienced anything like that. You felt about to explode, the feeling of being stuffed to the brim, of being manhandled like that was overwhelming.

“So tight! Shit, I’ll stuff you full of my cum” Zaraki growled in your ear, his mouth latching onto your neck, biting, sucking, bruising you to remind you of how miserable you were in his hands.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, the groans and moans coming from the three of you would have made anyone passing by turn pale, their ears bleeding in disgust. You were not people in that moment. You were animals.

“Come” Byakuya whispered in your ear, observing the way you shuddered, your walls clamping down onto him as you felt them both twitch into you.

And you did. The moment you came, Byakuya thrusted upwards sloppily, his seed painting your insides white, as you released a ragged breath and your back flattened against Zaraki’s sweaty, firm abs. You felt it, the way the Captain at your back cussed before keeping his promise to fill you up too.

Panting, still stuffed up with their now softening members, you found the strength to say something they obviously agreed with.

“Not a word with anyone”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there!

I am going to be ashamed of myself for a few hours after this. I honestly hope you are going to enjoy this piece because I literally have poured my whole heart into it. It’s my official second threesome, being the Shinobu x reader x Giyuu one the first one I have written! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreaciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @shonen-brainrot @electronicwitchcollection

#byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #zaraki kenpachi x reader #kenpachi x reader #bleach smut #bleach x you #bleach x reader #kenpachi zaraki #byakuya x you #byakuya smut #zaraki kenpachi #kenpachi smut

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aesthetic-rxssxs · 4 months ago

Text

Universe: Jujutsu Kaisen Troupe: Arranged Marriage 2nd Point Of View Warnings: Smut Words: 11,270

"In Need Of An Heir? By All Means, Creampie."

You and Satoru Gojo were forced to be married by both of your parents. What makes the situation worse is the fact Gojo was your childhood enemy.

Out of all people, it just had to be him.

Unfortunately, you had no other choice but to accept the marriage. The same goes for Gojo. It was a marriage based on mutual familial benefits—an alliance.

And you both were tasked to make a baby together to grow the family bloodline and connect the two clans.

On your first night, you had to live with Gojo together in a vila. You were on some exotic island your two clans bought specifically for your guys' privacy and "enjoyment".

Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...

You guys were in your villa. In Gojo Clan fashion, it was extravagant and classy. An open scenery to the bright blue ocean water.

At least something was worth seeing. Especially if you were forced to stay with your new husband. An arrogant, semi-narcissistic husband. What's worse is the fact he actually had a reason to be an egotistical jerk.

A fact that makes you want to pull your hair out every time he quips about his abilities. The universe truly is a jerk.

I mean, who in holy hell would ever pick Satoru Gojo to be the "chosen one"? I mean, did he seriously have to have both Limitless and The Six Eyes?—I think not.

Not that you could pay much mind to anything else while you were laid out on your shared bed, viewing the beautiful scenery through your very open windows.

It's better than looking back at Gojo who was looming over you with a hidden sick satisfaction to your circumstances.

You guys were about to have sex. I mean, how else are you guys supposed to create an heir?: sex.

You were naked, on all fours while you rested on your forearms in a face-down, ass-up position. An embarrassingly vulnerable position. At your worst enemy's disposal...

"You better be gentle with me." You spoke up, looking back at him with a warning look. Gojo gazed back at you with an amused expression and rolled his eyes.

He was holding his shaft, lining his tip to your entrance, dragging it up and down. A teasing gesture you just knew he was doing on purpose.

"I think I've watched enough porn to know what I'm doing," He replied, slowly pushing the fat head of his cock inside you, making you squirm and whimper at the intrusion.

Feeling your tight, heated cunt for the first time made his eyes glaze over with something he never thought he'd feel for you—pleasure.

Meanwhile, being stretched with his massive member made your leg instinctively reflex and kick his leg, causing him to wince in pain and fall forward onto you.

The action made him slip deeper into you and made you squeal in surprise, hands clenching around the sheets.

"Agh—What the fuck was that?!" Gojo yelled at you in a strained voice, amusement peaking through his tone while his chest was pressed against your back, his large frame atop you.

His impressive length hit deep to the point any slight movement was sensational, making you shudder.

You glared back at him, trying to keep your composure but finding it hard to. "That's for being an asshole about this."

He chuckles at your words, bright white teeth gleaming as he leaned down, his breath hot against your neck.

"I'm an asshole for trying to fuck my own wife without hurting her? You're the one who's being difficult about this arrangement." He retorts, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

“Oh don’t act like this isn’t for our families. Luckily, I don’t give a shit enough about you. But hey, maybe I’ll get lucky and die early in life.”

His eyes narrow with a sickly sweet grin as he leans closer, voice low with an undertone of a threat as he spoke into your ear. "Watch it, wifey. That's a terrible thing to joke about. Especially since we're supposed to be making a baby here."

He rolled his hips, reminding you of his presence deep inside you, which caused you to moan and grip the sheets once again, eyes wide.

“No shit. I think I noticed your dick in me, douchebag.” You gritted out, breathing through your nose.

"Then quit talking shit so I can actually fuck you properly instead of treating you like a delicate flower." He pulled out slightly before pushing back in, trying to set a steady pace. "And watch your damn mouth… I swear…"

He spanks your ass once, making you jolt. You gasped into the sheets—a mix between shock and arousal while your lips parted and your eyes closed.

You had to swallow before responding, “Swear what? You’ll still be the asshole you always are? Big whoop-de-do! I already—Ngh~!—deal with you…”

"Yeah? Well, at least I'm the asshole who's going to give you an orgasm right now, no matter how much you mouth off." He spanks your other cheek, harder this time, and starts to thrust into you with more purpose.

"So, shut up and take it," He gritted out, his impatience showing as he pulled out and thrust into you again.

You moaned into the sheets at the movement, mind going blank for a second before you responded weakly, “Any guy could make me cum, moron. You’re not…hah…special…!”

He huffs and wraps a hand around your throat at your words, applying gentle pressure as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Wanna bet? I'll make you cum so hard, you'll forget your own name. And then I'll do it again, and again, until you're begging me to stop."

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to cum. Trying to get pregnant here, remember? I’d never let your dick anywhere near me otherwise.” You retorted while you tried to keep yourself aware of how much you hate him and not how good he's filling you up.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers tightening around your throat possessively as he continues to thrust into you.

"Too late, you're already wrapped around my dumb, special dick." He mocks your earlier words, his hips snapping forward to hit a spot inside you that makes you whimper.

Your head was spinning, and the sprinkling feeling of pleasure bursting made your already clouding mind instinctively clench, a whine slipping past your lips.

"See, that's not so bad, is it? Your pussy already knows what she wants. And right now, she wants my special dick." He leans in closer, his breath hot on your ear. "Now, shut up before I give you something to actually moan about."

“Shut..the..fuck…up!” You trailed off with a squeal at a particular thrust, your argument weak against his movements.

He laughs roughly against your neck, the vibrations mingling with his deep thrusts. He found amusement in your reluctant submission.

"There she is, finally shutting up." He pulls back to look down at your flushed face, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "Keep squealing like that and I might actually enjoy fucking you, my enemy wife."

“Go fuck yourself, asshole.” You grit out and moan. Every attempt at composure toppling the second he snaps his hips.

"You're already taking my dick, baby. Where else am I supposed to put it?" He jokes darkly, his hips moving faster.

His eyes trailed down to watch your body tense and writhe beneath him, taking note of every spot that makes you whimper.

"Answer my question, smart mouth." He taunted, hands right above yours.

Your eyes blurred, making the scenery in front of you a beautiful mix of colors. The sight makes the moment all the more surreal.

You had to bite your lip to focus long enough to reply.

“Keep talking and I’ll—Mmm~—kick you again…” You slipped up, a thing that's beginning to be more frequent as he continued.

"Ooh, here's an idea—what if I shut that pretty mouth up with my dick? Would you still kick me then?" He teases his fingers down your stomach possessively, his pace picking up slightly.

His self-control is surprisingly good for someone who hasn't had sex before. Just another thing he'll brag about later… Great.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare. You hate me as much as I hate you and doing this for more than necessary would be just a fucking nightmare…" You paused, taking a breath.

"We’re…only doing this for familial purposes…” You whimpered into the sheets. He chuckles dryly in response, shaking his head.

"You read my mind, sweetheart. Heaven forbid I actually enjoy bumping uglies with my coldest enemy." His thrusts remain steady, and deep, hitting just the right spots to elicit involuntary reactions from you despite your words.

You moaned, gripping the sheets tightly. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Fuck, you're tight. And wet. And… goddamn, honey, your pussy feels amazing." He confesses roughly, his control slipping slightly as he buries his face in your neck.

“Still hate you…” You slurred as your back arched, a whine following as you clenched around him.

"Of course you do." He spanks your ass again, making you jolt. He watches your body closely, taking note of every move you make—every whimper, every clench, every arch of your sweat-slicken back.

He realizes something interesting. You’re responsive as hell. Like, way too responsive. It was a dangerous thing—addictive.

He would have spent more time admiring you if it weren’t for the fact you were already coming up with a snarky retort—interrupting his gaze.

“I fucking hate when you do that.” You grit out before a gasp is ripped out of you. He smirks against your neck, his hand coming down again in quick succession.

"Yeah? Because you sure fucking love how it feels." He changes the angle slightly, hitting a spot that makes you moan louder. "You're getting wetter every time I spank you, princess."

You scoff, trying to keep your dignity. There was no way you were going to give him the satisfaction of submission.

He growled playfully, continuing his spanking rhythm. "Keep scoffing. I bet by the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to spank you and start pounding you harder."

His deep voice sends vibrations through your neck, making you clench involuntarily.

“God you’re such an asshole.” You strained out, panting and gripping the sheets tightly. His movements only served to make you moan and whimper compulsively.

He chuckled darkly, his hand coming down harder and faster. He loved the way you responded to his slaps. It gave him a sick type of satisfaction.

"You keep talking, baby. It makes the spankings all the more satisfying." He admitted as he spread your legs wider with his knee, hitting a deeper spot with each thrust of his hips. "You're taking it so well, too."

“Yeah? Well, enjoy it. I’m never doing this with you again once I get pregnant…” You trail off, brows tugging together as a high-pitched moan slips out, your legs shaking.

His eyes flash with something unreadable at your words, but he quickly masks it. He leans down to bite your earlobe roughly.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." He pulls back and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, making you whimper and bury your face into the sheets.

"Don't hide from me. Want to know what your pretty face looks like when my dick hits right…” He paused, “Here?"

He found that spot again intentionally, making you gasp aloud. “Plus, the sounds you're making are fucking perfect. Don't you dare muffle them."

You bury your face deeper and shudder, moaning before he gripped your chin and forced your face out of the sheets, locking eyes with you intensely.

"Look at me when you moan like that. Fuck, do you have any idea how sexy you look taking my cock?" His hips pick up pace, each thrust deliberate and aimed at your sweet spot.

Your brows tug together and lips part in another moan, head going hazy. Your panting and moans nothing compared to the grunts and moans he lets out himself.

Despite yourself, you feel pride in making those noises seep out of him.

He leaned down and captured your mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, swallowing your moans. His tongue pushes past your lips, tangling with yours eagerly.

He pulls back just enough to speak against your mouth. "Say you're mine, wifey. Say it and I'll let you cum."

You whimper into his messy kiss and clench, the movement making a squelching noise. He breaks the kiss to growl in your face, his eyes locked onto yours intensely.

"Say it. Say 'I'm yours, Satoru'." He punctuates each word with a slow thrust, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

You whined and gasped, head lolling to the side as you take thrust after mind-blowing thrust.

"Goddamn, you get like this every time someone hits your G-Spot?" He watches you intently, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your legs trembling, your pussy contracting around him tightly. You look drugged.

"Answer me." He smacks your ass again, making you whimper and mewl. He scoffs, knowing he's just gonna make you cum anyway.

"Fine, cum then. Milk my cock with that tight little pussy." He starts fucking you harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

He leans down to bite your shoulder, marking you. The pinching feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin makes you squeak out a moan and gasp in shock.

His fingers dug into your hips as he held you in place, thrusting deeper with each movement.

"Fuck, look at how well you're taking my dick…" He moves one hand between your legs to rub your clit hard, sending you spiraling. "Cum on my cock, princess."

That was all it took before the constricting feeling in your tummy snaps!

You gripped the sheets tightly and whimpered as you came around him, your body shaking and writhing as you moan out his name on instinct.

"Holy shit…" His voice drops lower. He spreads your cheeks wider apart, watching your body milk his dick greedily. He swallows hard, noticing how you're incredibly responsive—like insanely responsive.

He notices something else—you're loud as hell when you cum. Like, porn star loud. "Baby?"

You gasp for breath, panting. You babbled through your orgasm not even hearing his call. Instead, you’re riding the mind-blowing post-orgasmic wave he had just given you.

"Jesus…" He watches you intently. Your face is scrunched up beautifully, back arched deeply, breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust, babbling nonsense.

He realizes something that makes his lips quirk up into a sinister grin. You’re a squirter. He watched your pussy closely, seeing the sheets get wetter and wetter.

All the series of porn videos he's watched never prepared him for the satisfaction and shock that comes from making a girl squirt.

Especially when that person is your wife. Even if she is someone you initially hate. Especially if that person was you.

You tried to catch your breath, breasts heaving with every breath, not even processing anything but the way your clit twitches.

You didn’t even fully acknowledge your exhausted, aching body. You were just too wrapped up in your hazy head to notice.

He pulled out slowly, a long groan escaping him as he watches his cock slip from your soaked pussy.

A wet sound fills the air and he blinks, stunned at the sheer volume of arousal coating his shaft. "Fucking hell, sweetheart. You squirted all over the bed."

You hiccuped as you tried to gather yourself, sitting up slightly on your shaky elbows.

He leaned down, watching you hiccup with a mix of amusement and pure lust in his expression.

Without warning, he flips you onto your back, your body limp and sensitive against the mattress. He props himself up between your legs, studying your splayed form.

“Mm…” You wiped away the tears that formed during your orgasm as you spoke. “D-Did you cum…?”

Your first thought was surprisingly reasonable for the way you were fucked dumb. It surprised Gojo, even yourself.

His face grows into a smirk, pushing his cock against your entrance, not answering immediately. He instead leaned down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

"Did you really think I was done, sweetheart?" His tone is low and rough, his hips rocking subtly, coating your entrance with his pre-cum.

You whimpered, finally starting to feel the ache in your body. He chuckled darkly, his lips trailing up your neck.

"You're so goddamn sensitive right now. I can feel it." His hand reaches down to toy with your clit, making you jump. "I'm going to fuck you again, princess. And again. And again."

“But we only agreed to do this to get pregnant… so our stupid parents can be appeased. We hate each other…” Your breasts continue to heave, still in the after-effects of your orgasm.

"Shut up," He growls, his voice muffled against your neck as he starts to push in again, ignoring your protests.

He's had his first taste of you, and he's not willing to stop just yet. Not until he's satisfied.

He pulls you right underneath him, one hand on your headboard while his other hand is on your hip. "We need to make a baby. That means lots of practice."

You swallow thickly with a half-assed, dazed glare. “Can’t you just cum in me once and be done?”

"And risk missing?" He scoffs, his hips rolling forward as he sinks deeper. "No way. I'm gonna fill this tight little pussy over and over again until you're pregnant with my heir."

He leans down to capture your lips in a brutal kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside once again. You whimpered into it, kissing back sloppily.

"Fuck, you actually like being this used, don't you?" His pace quickens, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back like it was your job to.

"Stop pretending you don't enjoy my cock tearing through your tight little cunt." He bites your lip hard enough to leave a mark.

You moan and clench, the squelch noise embarrassingly loud, which only serves to prove his point further.

He chuckled darkly, relishing in the obscene sound of his cock plunging into your soaked pussy.

"Look at that dirty little cunt clamping down on me…" He grabs your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to deepen his thrusts even further, grinning wickedly.

You choked on a gasp and gripped the sheets underneath you, trying to stabilize yourself—his cock slamming into your cervix with every thrust, the wet noises echoing obscenely.

"Jesus Christ… such a gorgeous fucking mess." He praises, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips.

He reached down to hook his arm under your knee, pulling your leg up even higher and opening you up wider. "Can you feel how deep I'm getting? How perfectly I'm breaking this little pussy in?"

You moaned and gasped, body flushed with exhaustion and sweat. He smirks, seeing the dazed experssion etched on your face and the way your pussy is quivering around his dick.

He knows he's hit that sweet spot deep inside you with the way your walls greedily suck him in. He whimpered, "That's it, just like that. Take your husband's cock."

You gasp and tilt your head back, lips parting as your head rests on the pillow. You heard his needy noise and you couldn’t wait to taunt him for it after he’s done stuffing you full of his cum and creampieing your pretty pussy.

He wraps his strong fingers around your ankle, pulling your leg up even higher until your heel is resting on his shoulder.

He grunts, his abs clenching as he uses his core strength to slam into you even harder, his thick length punching into your cervix over and over.

You moan and whimper, eyes blurring and mind blanking with every thrust he gave you.

"Fucking hell," He pants out breathlessly, feeling your tight walls flutter around him desperately.

"Look at that needy little cunt squeezing my cock like it never wants to let go." He leans down, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss while his hips keep up an impossibly deep rhythm.

“Shut… up,” You panted out, whimpering while your hands reflexively latch onto his back, tugging him closer with every pleasure-filled thrust.

He laughs breathlessly at your defiance. "Nah, I'm not shutting up. I'm gonna keep talking, keep fucking you, until you can't take it anymore and you just break apart on my cock."

He kisses you again, this time roughly yanking your hair back, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you senseless.

"This is—hah!—just... for our families..." You pause and swallow thickly before continuing, "To extend and connect the family lines..."

"Right…" He smirks devilishly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. "And yet here we are, you taking me like this. Legs spread wide, letting me destroy this tight little hole…"

His rhythm speeds up, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes your mind go blank.

"I hate you…" You slurred, eyes squeezed shut and nails digging into his delicate pale back as you repeated your weak argument, hoping it would stick.

"Maybe," he continues the relentless pace, driving into you while keeping one hand firmly on your thigh to keep it in place "But does that hate feel as good as my cock does when it's inside you?"

"Besides," He grins wickedly, panting as he enjoyed the way your body responds to his thrusts, "You're doing exactly what you said you wouldn't. Letting me fuck this pussy raw, getting closer than our marriage vows ever specified, my little wifey enemy."

Your eyes flutter, trying to keep yourself awake as you retort. "Only… because—Ngh!—our clans need an heir to our alliance…"

"Right. So this doesn't count as you actually liking my dick?" He asks softly, almost mockingly. His hips keep up the steady pace, making deep, wet sounds echo through the room.

He smirks devilishly, watching you intently for your response, taunting. "Answer carefully, baby..."

"Fuck… you…" You grit out, panting at the overwhelming feeling of him hitting your cervix so dead-on.

"Oh, I think we've established that I'm the only one doing any fucking here." He chuckles darkly, using his free hand to reach between you and start rubbing circles on your clit.

His thrusts become even deeper, more insistent, as if challenging you to admit anything more.

"Just..." You slur, closing your eyes to compose yourself before continuing. "Just hurry up and cum in me..."

He laughs deeply, both amused and turned on by your attempt at maintaining control.

"Such a pretty mouth you have for saying all these nasty things. But…" He suddenly slows his thrusts, holding himself deep inside you "What if I don't want to finish yet?"

You grunt, frustrated with his insistent mocking before you respond with a strained voice. "Stop being an asshole so we can get this over with..."

"Mmmm, but see, now I'm wondering…" He slowly pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, watching you wince in discomfort and attempt to suppress a moan.

"What if I decide to keep doing this all night? Keep talking trash and holding back my release?" He smirks at your involuntary reactions.

"You'd be an even bigger asshole... just hurry up and impregnate me..." You choke on a moan, nails digging into his skin. His smirk widens at your desperate words, clearly enjoying the power dynamic.

"There it is. The real reason you're laying there, taking my dick like a good little wife. You need my seed, don't you?" He starts thrusting faster, hitting your most sensitive spots with precision.

You cry out in pleasure, something you'd never do if it weren't for his unfairly big dick. "You know exactly why—Ah~—I'd never let you touch me otherwise…"

"Exactly…" He grins triumphantly, knowing he's finally broken through your icy exterior "This gorgeous little pussy of yours only gets wet for my “enemy” cock."

His thrusts become more deliberate, intense, wanting to draw out every sound he can. He succeeds.

Your moans grow more frequent and with higher pitch as your body succumbs to the pleasure, heart pounding in your ribcage. You didn't even have the right mind to retort to his comment.

He leans in close, voice low and dominant. "I think it's time I make you my personal breeding toy. My own little whore to knock up and fill with my kids."

He delivers a particularly deep thrust, grinding his hips against yours "What do you say, wifey?"

"God.. you're such a dick," You scoff before a whimper is ripped out of you. His arrogance only making the experience hotter. I guess what they say really is true—hate sex is the best sex.

He chuckles darkly, amused by your insult even as it clearly inflames his lust.

"Mmm, but it's the dick you married, isn't it?" He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, eliciting a choked moan from your parted lips.

Your legs wrap tightly around him, thighs instinctively clenching as your body takes every thrust.

He smirks at your involuntary response, feeling your thighs clamp around him. He wraps an arm around your thighs, pulling them even closer to his chest as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

With a low, arrogant chuckle, he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Seems like your body agrees with me, even if your mouth doesn't. Crazy how good you're taking my cock."

"Shut up and fucking cum in me." Your voice cracks, borderlining on begging as his thrusts make you feel overwhelmed with pleasure.

His smirk grows wider at your desperate words, pride swelling in his chest.

"With pleasure, honey~." He pounds into you with renewed vigor, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my seed, make you pregnant with our kid. Gonna give our clans what they want—To creampie my wife."

You whimper and claw at his back, eyes blurring with tears, unrestrained pleasure showing through them. His words only making your clit twitch with vigor.

With a final, deep thrust that bottoms out inside you, he lets out a loud, satisfied grunt, his hot cum flooding your unprotected womb. His shaft pulsing as he releases.

He pants heavily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck possessively, panting. "Fuck… you're gonna be so fat and beautiful, carrying my baby."

He chuckles, his laughter rumbling through his shaft, keeping it locked deep inside you.

“I still hate you,” You whimpered out weakly, a protest that doesn’t hit as hard as you hoped it would. It instead solidifies the fact you’re still cockdrunk.

"That's okay, wifey. You can hate me all you want. But your body loves me just fine." He pulls out slowly, his thick cum still pouring into your womb. You flash a weak glare at him.

He returned your glare with a smug grin, clearly amused by your attempt at hostility while his semen drips from your freshly fucked hole. With an exaggerated sigh, he taps your nose playfully.

"Better get used to being knocked up by your least favorite person, sweetheart. Tradition demands many heirs, remember?"

You roll your eyes at his antics, still trying to catch your breath. Your face is flushed, hair messy, lips swollen, and eyes are half-lidded.

He notices your disheveled state with a pleased smile. He steps closer, his hands cupping your still heavy and sensitive breasts.

"These are going to get even bigger and heavier." He leans down and captures one of your hardened peaks into his warm mouth, sucking gently. You squeal in surprise, not expecting that.

He chuckles around your nipple, amused by your startled reaction. Releasing the peak with a wet pop!, he grins up at you devilishly.

"Surprised, wifey? Didn't think your perverted husband would miss an opportunity to play with these gorgeous tits?"

"Shut up, Gojo." You retorted instantly with a huff. He throws his head back with a hearty laugh, amused by your continued stubbornness even after such intimate moments.

"Aw, but your nipples are already stiffening for me again! Look at that, they betray how much they love my attention." He teasingly pinches one hardened peak between his fingers.

You raised your hand to slap his away with a scoff, not finding his antics amusing. He instead caught your wrist mid-slap, a dangerous smirk playing across his lips.

"Oh? Is that any way to treat your husband after getting thoroughly fucked?" He pulls you closer with your trapped wrist. "These sweet tits and that freshly bred pussy are mine now, remember?"

"You wish. We only did this for the good of our clans alliance. Remember?" You reminded harshly, trying to regain your edge.

"Is that so?" He hums, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he leans in closer, his warm breath fanning over your face.

"We'll see about that." He suddenly releases your wrist and pushes you back onto your back, crawling over you and pinning you beneath him.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "H-Hey, you already came in me! It's done—We don't have to go any further!"

He ignores your protest, his strong arms caging you in beneath him.

"You really think one time is enough to seal the deal?" He chuckles, his hands roaming over your stomach possessively. "I think we need to keep trying until you're clearly pregnant."

"You were serious about that?" You scoff in disbelief, eyes still wide with shock.

You swallowed thickly, not expecting him to want to fuck you more than necessary. Especially with the way you both passionately claim to hate each other.

His gaze dropped to your lips briefly before returning to your eyes. He reaches between your legs, slipping his fingers into your soft, sensitive pussy and gently playing with the cum that had already begun to leak out of you.

"Surprised? Hate sex is still sex, sweetheart. And the more we do it, the higher our chances of getting you knocked up are." He smirks, enjoying the shocked expression on your face.

"Brace yourself, wifey. You're getting knocked up tonight." He growls possessively. "And every night until it happens."

He leans in close, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks lowly, "Besides, hating you doesn't mean I can't enjoy this."

His hands skim down your sides teasingly. "Your body responds so nicely to mine. It's almost like fate wants us breeding."

You nodded hesitantly in agreement. This was for the best, right? I mean, worst case scenario you're overstimulated by cumming too much.

His lips curled into an amused smirk as he observes your hesitant nod. Your compliance only served to make him harder.

"That's a good wife," He praised mockingly before lowering his mouth to your neck, biting down teasingly. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect you to be such an obedient little breeder."

"Shut up. This is for our clans." You retorted, ignoring the hitch in your breath and how good he felt against you.

"Mhm, whatever you say." He hums against your neck, kissing the spot he'd bitten before trailing his lips up your jaw. His hands grip your hips possessively.

"Last chance to speak before I start." He warns, his eyes glittering with dark intent.

"You act like you didn't just creampie me. If you insist to be precautious and fuck your cum into me multiple times—then fucking do it." You grit out challengingly.

"Feisty words from someone who's already dripping with my cum." His lips curve into a smirk against your jaw before he moves up in a swift motion and captures your mouth in a rough kiss.

"Such a filthy mouth…" He growls against your lips before pulling back slightly. "Maybe I should fill it with something else."

You glared at his innuendo, not finding his quip as entertaining. His smirk only widens at your glare, clearly enjoying your frustration.

He leans in to capture your mouth in another rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way past your lips to stroke against yours. As he pulls back, he speaks against your mouth. "I'll give you something to be frustrated about, honey."

"You in general is something to be frustrated about," You retorted instantly.

"Then imagine how frustrated you'll be when I'm balls deep in you again." He smirked darkly, his hand reaching down to cup your cunt possessively.

"Now, let's continue our fucking to making our clans strong and united," He paused with a suspenseful smirk before continuing, "By stuffing you full of my cum."

You huffed, annoyed but not arguing with his statement. You had no reason to disagree.

"Good girl." He praises, his fingers pressing against your pussy before pulling back to grab a nearby pillow. He shoves it under your hips, lifting your hips up in the air and spreading your legs apart.

"Now, let's go again. Not gonna stop until you're bred properly." He added, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes, head resting on the extra pillow. His hardened member rests against your swollen entrance.

"Such attitude from someone taking my cum so nicely." He positions himself between your legs, stroking his already rock-hard cock.

"Though," He chuckles darkly, "I do love seeing this sassy side of you... Especially while I’m in you.”

One hand traces your jawline while the other guides his cock to your entrance. You whimpered at the action, still sensitive, and lip quivering at the attention.

"Shh, shh." He hushes you softly, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him as he slowly pushes in, filling you up once more.

"You take it so well, every time." He praises lowly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasp, arching at his action, the familiar feeling of his stretch making you flush.

He watches your face bloody with color, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he sees your reaction to being filled yet again.

"So pretty when you're getting bred…" He murmurs, slowly pulling out before sliding back in, setting a slow rhythm. "Look at me…"

You nibble on your lip as you look up at him, tears welling up again. He smirked dangerously at your lip-nibbling, his pace picking up slightly.

"Shh, hush." He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his hips continuing to move slowly.

"My little wifey is so sensitive after our clan wedding..." He whispers softly, his voice dripping with affection and amusement. You gasp and grip his back tightly.

He feels your grip tighten around him and chuckles softly, his breath hot against your neck.

"Mmm, that's it. Hold on tight, wifey." His pace quickens, thrusting deeper and harder, each powerful move eliciting a needy sound from you.

"Your sweet cunt likes my dick," He growls softly against your neck before capturing your earlobe between his teeth.

"Takes it so well…" He hums, his hips moving deeper and slower. He keeps up that pace, loving the way the agonizing pace makes the build up that much more suspenseful.

"Spread your legs wider baby," He demands softly, voice croaking with need.

"Let your enemy husband breed you deeper." He wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he continues to fill you up over and over. His hands splay out possessively on your stomach.

"You're going to have my children, you know that?" He commented. You swallowed, clenching as you replied. "Yeah… I think I fucking noticed when our parents bought a whole damn island for it…"

He chuckles darkly at your snappy response, his hips jerking forward possessively. "Good, I'm glad you noticed."

He groans when you clench again, loving the silent admission of how much you love his cock. His fingers splayed out wider on your stomach as you took every brutal thrust of his.

"I want at least five, maybe six." He murmurs softly against your neck. Your eyes widen in shock, squirming in disbelief. "What?!"

"What? You think I'm joking? I want all my babies growing in this soft belly of yours." He grips your waist tighter, emphasizing his words with deep thrusts, making you moan.

"Five at least—all beautiful hybrids of our powerful bloodlines…" He voices proudly, his fingers flexing possessively on your belly

"Little Gojos running around everywhere. A whole football team of mini-me's running around, terrorizing us." He continues, voice dropping lower, more intense as he bites your earlobe gently.

"You're not going anywhere, baby. Our families have already agreed. Plus…" He chuckles darkly, his thumb pressing softly on your lower belly while his hips move in steady circles.

"Plus, what?" Your eyes flutter open and close, trying to comprehend what he's saying and not the way his hips roll beautifully into yours.

"Plus," He repeats, voice low, his hips moving deeper and slower, making you arch slightly. He chuckles softly. "You're already addicted to my dick."

"Look how easily you spread your legs for your enemy husband." He teases softly, his thumb rubbing your lower belly possessively.

His hips move in slow, deep circles, stirring up heat inside your core that makes your toes curl. You flush in embarrassment and glare at his lack of decorum.

"What, not nice to say?" He asks smugly, pulling out slowly before slamming back into you hard enough to rattle the bed underneath you.

"You're getting so wet, honey," He says amused as he kisses your mouth hard enough to leave you dazed.

You whine and inhale sharply, swallowing and arching in reaction. He smirks at your breathy reaction, his eyes darkening with primal satisfaction.

"That's right, my little wifey, take it deep like a good girl." His voice is a sultry murmur as he continues his powerful thrusts, angling perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside you.

As he spoke, his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself getting lost in the sensation of his movements.

Your breath comes in short gasps, and your nails dig deeper into his skin as you try to anchor yourself to the moment. "Can you be even more of an asshole about this?"

He laughs huskily, his pace never faltering as he drives into you. The friction between your bodies is building, and you can feel the tension coiling inside you, waiting to snap.

"Probably. But why bother when I'm already buried balls deep in perfection?" He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers teasingly, "Though if you insist on me being an asshole…"

His eyes never leave yours, burning with an intense desire that seems to sear into your very soul.

You swallow thickly and tilt your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut, breathing out of your nose as you silently surrender. He takes advantage of your exposed neck, kissing and biting down gently, knowing exactly how to make your body react.

"Open your eyes, honey~. I want you to look at the face of the man who's owning this perfect pussy." One hand moves down to where your bodies connect, fingers sliding against your clit with calculated precision.

"You look so pretty taking my dick like this, honey. Like you were made for me and me alone." He breathes hotly against your skin as he continues to fill you.

His arms flex as they wrap around you tightly, pulling you even closer as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust.

"You're mine now, completely and utterly." The sound of his labored breathing fills the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and sex, creating a heady aroma that intoxicates your senses.

You pant, moaning as he moves relentlessly. His movements make you feel a flurry of emotions—mainly pleasure.

He smirked at your breathless reaction, his eyes darkening with fulfillment—literally.

"That's right, my little wifey, take it deep like a good girl." His voice is dark with appreciation as he continues his powerful thrusts, angling perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside you.

His eyes burn with intensity as he watches you, his touch possessive and demanding.

"I'm close, honey." He moans lowly, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. "You're going to cum with me, understand? I want to feel your little cunt squeeze my dick like a vice."

His voice is rough and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

His hand moved faster against your clit, his fingers swirling and pressing in ways that make your legs tremble and your walls clench tightly around him.

The feeling of you squeezing him only spurs him on, his hips moving faster and harder.

Your moans are high-pitched as you cry out, body yielding to his mushroom-shaped tip hitting your cervix, just shy of your womb, your orgasm creeping up with no intent of stopping.

"Fuck... just like that..." His voice is strained with pleasure, losing some of his usual arrogance as his own climax builds rapidly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His breathing becomes heavier, his voice echoing in your ears. "That's it. Cum on my dick like a good little wife..."

His lips crash onto yours, silencing the scream bubbling in your throat as he thrusts deep. With a culminating, deep thrust, he buries himself completely inside you, his hot seed spilling out and filling you up.

He groans loudly, his body shuddering with the force of his release. "Fuck, sweetheart... M' gonna make you a mommy... My sweet enemy wife—my heir's mother..."

"F-Fuck… 'Toru," You slurred, whimpering. The rushing heat building up inside you making you squirm.

The feeling of him filling you up so full while your puffy folds took every inch of him made your eyes water and tears fall. Your orgasm making your breath hitch sharply with how quick it came.

You sniffled, nodding. Despite him only cumming in you twice, you could feel his seed spilling down. Your legs twitch, too weak to move.

He chuckles softly, nuzzling your neck again. You feel a shiver run down your spine at his reaction. As he holds you close, his seed still leaking out of you, mixes with your own juices.

"My poor little wife… You're overflowing with my seed…" He murmurs, his hands roaming your body possessively.

"I think I broke you…" He jokes lightly, his fingers splaying out on your stomach possessively.

"I love seeing you like this," He grins, his lips brushing against your ear. "All soft and pliable, with my seed inside you. It's like you're a part of me now."

You huff, annoyed how he could be so cheeky while he was still in you. The vulnerable position making you heat up in embarrassment.

"Don't get used to it, husband. Once I'm pregnant, there will be no need to share a room anymore." You retorted, smirking smugly with a slight tilt on your lips.

"Heh, we'll see about that," He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns on your belly.

"Who says I'll let you sleep alone once you're pregnant?" He teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pulls back slightly to look at your body that's still joined with his. "But I will miss this pretty girl right here."

His thumb brushes over your stretched folds, grinding down into your cervix making you mewl and arch.

He smirked, knowing how stubborn you could be when it comes to being honest, "See? I love how beautifully she begs for me. I can already feel you clenching around me."

"You may hate me, sweet wife, but she adores me." He taunts, nipping at your bottom lip. You glared, eyes not quite reaching it as you narrow them. "You're so full of yourself, Gojo."

"Hey, when it comes to you, I have every right to be," He chuckles, his fingers continuing to tease your entrance.

"And speaking of full, I think I'll keep you like this until morning. My seed needs time to take root, after all." He shrugs nonchalantly despite the situation, kissing the crook of your neck.

"Uh-huh, after all." You mocked his words.

"It's the truth!" He pouts exaggeratedly. "Besides, there's nothing more adorable than seeing my little wife lying there helplessly while I'm inside her."

His thumb continues to tease your clit, you feeling another wave of warmth pooling in your belly.

"Oh? And here I thought you hated me. But I guess my cunt is the exception, right?" You countered with a pointed look, a small lazy smirk tugging at your lips.

"Oh, you know I hate you," He deadpanned, his thumb pausing briefly before resuming its slow circles before he returned your smirk, his thumb pressing harder. He especially enjoyed the way your lips part in reaction.

"But my hatred can't compete with how much my husbandly duties make me enjoy being inside you." He smirked, nuzzling your face possessively.

"Your mouth is filthy," He adds with a grin, his hips moving slightly inside you before he continues, "Answer me a question."

His thumb circles your clit again, making your thighs twitch. "Do you only get wet when my dick is inside you?"

He smirks mischievously, trying to hide his genuine curiosity. "I mean, this sweet little pussy just squeezes me so perfectly."

"Shut up!" You slap his chest with a scoff in disbelief, cheeks flushing.

"Mmm, touchy subject?" He laughed lightly, pressing deeper against you. He knows what he's doing, and it makes him feel empowered.

It was a feeling different to knowing how much more gifted he was than other sorcerers. An addictive feeling he could definitely get used to.

"Or maybe I struck a nerve? Does your husband's big cock make your sweet little cunt drippy all the time?" He grins wickedly, knowing he's hitting all your sensitive spots.

“You know..." He trailed off, watching your mind blank in real time, hand moving up your thigh to squeeze greedily.

"You always seem so miserable, but when I spread your little thighs and filled you up, you're always so warm and wet." He whispers, his hot breath against your face.

"Is it because you hate me, or because my big husbandly presence makes your tiny wife body feel so good?" He smirked.

You scoffed. "As arrogant as ever, Gojo. It's a wonder I even agreed to be a pawn in our parent's alliance. I bet you only agreed to piss me off. I wouldn't put it passed you to be petty."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your face.

"Petty? Me? Never... Although, it doesn't hurt that being married to you is the perfect way to get under your skin." He grinned, his hand still squeezing your thigh.

"What a shame, it's almost like you never wanted me either." He chuckles sadly despite his smirking tone. "If that's true, then why does my wife make little whimpering noises whenever I pound into her pretty pussy?"

He laughs darkly, fingers gripping your hip almost painfully.

"No matter how much I loathe you, you're still my precious wife." He pushes deeper again, making your legs tense. Your eyes fly open before they fall into a half-lidded look.

"It's called bodily reaction. Kind of don't have a choice when you hit all the right spots." You grit out, chest starting to grow in huffs again as you try and fail to maintain your composure.

"Is that so?" He murmurs, staring at how your lips part in a huff. "Even if I didn't intend to?"

He continues watching your lips move, finding it strangely appealing, even as some part of him still loves to torture you. "Does it happen every time?"

"Does what happen all the time?" You swallow, taking a deep breath as your brows tug together in confusion.

He pauses, realizing his question dangled awkwardly between you and his own desire to annoy you. He flexes his muscles underneath you, making his large form seem even more intimidating.

A smirk tugged at his lips when he leaned in closer, his husky voice low as he speaks.

"Does your body betray you like this every time I touch you, even when you wish it wouldn't?" His hips move deliberately slow, watching your reactions.

"You making those little noises, getting all warm and wet for me." He states matter-of-factly, his voice low and even. "I'd like to know if it's consistent."

"The way your thighs tremble, how your breath catches, lips parting like that..." He added.

His gaze never leaves your face, waiting for an answer. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, a smirk tugging at his lips. "The little noises you make when I hit your sweet spot."

You swallow down the lump in your throat as he speaks, his words making your clit twitch in renewed interest.

He feels the shift in your position, how your hips unintentionally press down against him as you swallow.

He knows he's hitting the mark with his words, making you uncomfortable in a way that isn't anger. His smirk widened, his thumb pushing past your lips.

Your lips part in reaction, starring into his eyes as his does the same to yours, a weird tension lingering in the air.

"Mmm… looks like your body doesn't share your smart-ass attitude, does it?" His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. "The way your lips part… it's almost like you're begging for something."

His thumb trails across your tongue, a clear challenge in his eyes.

You instinctively wrap your tongue around his thumb, suckling onto it with a hum. His breath hitched at your reaction, pupils dilating deliciously.

"Look at you…" He drawls, voice coming out deeper than intended. "All those clever remarks gone because of a little stimulation."

"Maybe you're actually enjoying this." He added, leaning closer, their faces inches apart.

His thumb parts from your mouth, trailing down your bottom lip, leaving a wet glide before it pressed against your chin as he gripped it, tilting your head closer as he waits for your response.

"Just because I like your dick doesn't mean I like you." You quipped, keeping up your banter.

"Is that so?" He reaches down, hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling your legs around his waist, forcing you to wrap yourself around him.

"It is. Do you disagree? I recall you liking my cunt and not me—you gonna question that too?" You retorted with a small smirk.

He scoffs, amused by your quick wit despite himself. "Touché. Seems we're equally miserable in each other's presence, yet our bodies sing a different tune."

His grip on your thighs tightens as he presses you harder against the headboard, a smug smirk curling his lips.

"Careful, I'm supposed to be resting, remember? Waiting for your seed to take." He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement at your interruption.

"Resting, my ass. You're just trying to avoid actually talking to me." He shifts you slightly, his hands roaming over your back as he settles himself between your spread thighs.

"I'm pleasantly surprised. You can read the room." You taunted, sitting up and removing the pillow that was placed bellow your lower back.

"And here I thought you were just smart-mouthed all the time." His smirk widens, watching you stretch.

"You hide it pretty well." He adds softly, almost to himself.

"You should really be lying down..." He warned after a beat, his hands hovering over your lower belly, ready to push you back into the pillow.

"And you should stop telling me what to do." You retorted stubbornly. "Plus, kinda hard when your dick is still in me, isn't it?"

His smirk turns into a full-blown grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners, heavily amused by the situation.

"Didn't you say you were gonna stay in to keep your cum in me? To ensure an heir? Going against your own word now, Gojo?" You taunted, emphasizing his last name despite it also being yours by marriage.

His grin widens, clearly entertained by your defiance. "Shut up, you little brat. You're not in any position to be giving orders."

He shifts his hips, his cock still buried inside you, and presses a hand against the middle of your breasts to push you back into the pillow.

You rolled your eyes, moving to lay more comfortably on the pillows, hair spread out on it. Some stray strands stick to your sweat-slicken forehead, your body still sweaty from your previous activities.

His grin turns into a smirk when he watched you settle back against the pillows, his gaze lingering on your sweat-slicked body.

"Much better." He murmurs, his hands continuing to explore your back and hips. "Now, let's try this again without the attitude."

"Try what again?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Answer questions without snarking or making a smart-ass comment." He clarified slowly, his smirk never leaving his face. "You know, like a normal person."

"Can you manage that?" He added teasingly. His thumbs spread your thighs wider apart slightly, his shaft twitching inside you.

"And why should I, hm? I don't have to do a thing." You crossed your arms defiantly, lips twitching with hidden amusement.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he fights back laughter, finding your defiance hilarious rather than annoying.

"Because if you answer my questions like a normal person, I'll stay seated right here until the baby is guaranteed." He threatens, his fingers flexing on your thighs.

"Is that supposed to make me want to talk? You're the one who's trying to fuck a baby into me to appease the elders. Not me." You responded smoothly, a smirk present.

He leans forward slightly, his face inches from yours, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.

"And you're the one who signed that marriage contract willingly. Yet here you are, giving me attitude instead of spreading your legs like a good little wife." His voice drops to a husky whisper.

Your smirk falters and you flash a glare, cheeks heating up once again. "I already did. In case you have forgotten, see the cum you've stained my insides with."

"Answer my question without being a smart-ass." He growls softly, his smirk disappearing, his eyes watching your expression carefully. "It's like pulling teeth with you."

His hips twitch slightly inside you, making your breath hitch. His smirk slowly returned at your reaction. "See?"

You scoff and rest on your elbows, glaring at him despite the leverage he has over your aching and exhausted body. "Asshole."

He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh, completely unperturbed by your insult. He actually found it really attractive how stubborn you were

"And yet here you are, barely able to hold yourself up because of how I fucked you." His voice drops to a sexy whisper. "Have you?"

"Have I what?" You grit out, fuming at his accuracy and at the way your face turned a matching flaming red.

"Answered a question without being a smart-ass?" He drawls slowly, his smirk widening as he watches your expression darken with anger.

"Or... without snapping?" His hips twitch slightly again, spreading your legs wider apart slightly. "See? Like this."

Your voice breaks with an involuntary whimper, walls instinctively clamping down despite your evolving anger.

"That's what I'm talking about." He chuckles darkly. "But no, you didn't answer my question."

He continues, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Answer my question without backtalk and I'll be really gentle this time."

"This time? Fuck that," You scoffed, glaring as best as you could. "No way I'm letting you go again. You've came plenty of times, you greedy fuck."

His eyebrows raise in amusement at your fiery retort, clearly enjoying your spunk despite the frustrations.

"True, I have cum quite a few times." He admits with a shameless grin, hips shifting minutely to emphasize his still considerable hardness inside you. "But I'm not done yet."

You groaned in annoyance, head lolling back as you huffed. Your head slowly shifitng to glare at him, leaning up to press your chest against his despite his looming figure over you.

"You already said I needed to rest. Now you're switching up?" You narrowed your eyes, breasts heaving with labored breaths.

From the exhausting back and forth or from your growing arousal?—you don't know.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "Did I say you needed to rest?"

"I merely said you needed rest, not a break from fucking. Big difference." His hand slides up your side, fingertips grazing the underside of your breast teasingly. His smirk is utterly wicked.

"Fucking fabulous." You retorted sarcastically, brows furrowed out of annoyance, zeroing in on his smug expression.

"Such a filthy mouth on my precious wife," He whispers darkly, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. "And here I am, being gentle because you're sore."

His lips quirked up in a smirk. "Should I show you what happens when you talk back?"

"Go fuck yourself." You respond bluntly, eyes burning into his as you're inches apart.

A dark chuckle escapes him, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement rather than anger. His hips roll against yours deliberately, drawing out a weak whimper from you.

"There's only one person fucking you right now, sweetheart." His voice drops lower, more intense.

Your eyes glinted with annoyance, trying not to slap the ever-loving shit out of his stupid smug face. No matter how tempting it was to. "Go fuck yourself."

"And there it is," He mutters softly, brows snapping together as his smirk returned.

"You know what your problem is?" He asked darkly, snapping his hips slightly to watch your body's reaction, eyes zeroing in on your chest heaving softly.

Your stomach coiled, twisting in a way that made your jaw clench. Your teeth grinded down together to stop yourself from letting out another moan.

His smirk grew wider at your struggling composure, clearly enjoying your frustration. "You talk too much when your body's already betraying you."

His hand trails up your neck possessively before cupping your nape, moving so your noses brush together, sharing breaths.

"Should I gag you while I fuck you stupid?" His tone was casual, but laced with dark amusement.

You scoff, the close proximity making you involuntarily swallow. His smirk widens dangerously, watching your neck work.

"Answer the question, wife. Should I stuff your mouth with something while I pound into you?" He growls softly, his hips rolling again slowly to keep you sensitive and worked up.

"S-Stop that!" You argue before your lips slip out a small moan, making you glare at him. He laughs softly, his fingers pressing against the back of your neck.

"That's what I thought." His free hand travels down to pinch a sore spot near your clit, deliberately drawing out a hoarse whimper.

"So sensitive." His voice drops lower like he's talking to himself. Your nails dug into his arm, stabilizing yourself as your lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.

Your sharp gasp filled the room before it statics back with silence.

"Goddamn," He mutters softly, watching your body carefully. Your nipples hardened, stomach tightening, hips twitching slightly.

"You're always so responsive." He growled softly, snapping his hips again experimentally.

His wicked smirk softened into a satisfied grin as he watched your nails dig into his arm, your body language speaking volumes even as you tried to stay quiet

Taking advantage of your momentary weakness, he leans in to murmur against your cheek, "Look at you, trying so hard not to moan…”

You glare, eyes watering with something you don't want to have to acknowledge. Especially when that someone is Satoru Gojo. His smirk widened dangerously, watching your expression.

"You know what I hate?" He asked suddenly, his hands possessive on your hips again. His voice was casual like he wasn't currently between your thighs.

"W-What?" You asked hesitantly, afraid of what he's gonna say or do next.

"The way you pretend to hate me when your body's making it very obvious you don't." His thumb traces circles on your hipbone, making your breath hitch.

"Look at your fucking eyes. Watering just from having me this close." He breathes against your ear.

You scoff and retort, "Don't pretend like you weren't fucking me not too long ago. Trying to fuck a baby into me. All for our stupid elders to be satisfied, the old bastards..."

His breath catches slightly at your words, something dark flashing across his eyes. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze intensely.

"And yet… you never told them no. Never stopped me." His hips press against you meaningfully. "Your legs wrapped around me like a fucking vice."

"Like I could?" You retorted, tugging him down, your faces just a breath away. You added with a whisper, "You seriously think I had a real choice? Don't get me wrong, your dick is… memorable to say the least."

You leaned in, lips barely grazing against each other as you looked into his eyes with intent. "But don't forget why we're doing this."

His eyebrows raise slightly at your words, a slow smirk spreading across his handsome face.

He doesn't pull away, instead leaning in even closer until his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks. "Oh, trust me, I remember full well why we're doing this."

"Good boy," You taunted as if you were talking to a dog, taping his nose like he previously did to yours.

He lets out a soft huff of air at the tap, his nose crinkling slightly before he leans in and presses a hard kiss to your lips.

"Shut up," he murmurs against your mouth before biting your bottom lip. "And behave."

"Behave, huh? You seemed to like it when I was bratty. I could feel every twitch you gave, you know." You smirked, voice low and mocking. He smirks dangerously, hips pressing forward deliberately.

"You're fucking playing with fire right now." His hands move to pin your wrists above your head

"Maybe I should remind you who's really in charge here?" His lips trail down your neck as he speaks. "Though…"

"Hm?" You responded, leaning into his kisses as he moved down, his hot breath following in a satisfying line. The sensation made your body feel even hotter.

"…it's kinda hot how you mouth off even when you're at my mercy." He finished with nips at your pulse point, voice a low rasp.

"And don’t you dare fucking stop, brat." His smirk widens devilishly as he feels you squirm under him.

"Oh? So you're a masochist, huh?" You pinched his hip. He inhales sharply at the pinch to his hip, a shudder running through his tall frame.

His smirk morphed into a full-blown grin, dark eyes dancing with wicked amusement. "Careful, brat. That pinch might've just made me harder."

"Yeah? Well, I can feel it." You rolled your hips up into his sharply, making you bite back a grin. A low groan escaped him when you grinded against him, his eyes narrowing with intense desire.

He rocks his hips back, meeting your movements with deliberate friction. "Fuck, that's it. Keep teasing me like that and I might just take you right here again."

"I still feel your cum spilling out." You whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the sensitive shell of it.

"And? Does that get you all hot and wet thinking about it? Knowing my cum is dripping down your thighs right now?" He asked rhetorically.

His voice drops to a dirty whisper as he grinds down against you harder, deliberately pressing where you're most sensitive. "Should I add some more?"

"Well, I mean we do have to make heirs somehow. Twice really isn't enough, is it?" You responded casually, keeping up a coy tone.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words.

Then, a slow, dangerous grin spreads across his face. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You want me to breed you, brat? Right here, right now?"

"Well, it is better for the clan…" You added, hands trailing down his milky pale skin. You felt the dewey sweat-lined skin, making you smirk.

His eyes darken with a fierce intensity, the implication of your words sending a jolt of primal desire through him.

He captured your lips in a brutal, possessive kiss, his tongue delving deep as he grinded against you with renewed fervor.

You moaned and kissed him back, lips fighting his eagerly for the first time without you being cockdrunk on his dick.

You slipped your tongue into his mouth and tasted him desperately, grinding back into him. The movement makes a distinct soaked squelch, slamming his cum right back into you for your greedy womb to suck in.

His mind went blank at the wet sound of his own release squishing back inside you when you grind against him. He groaned and kissed you harder.

Your tongues tangle hungrily as he growls low, hands squeezing your ass possessively.

"Goddamn…" He mutters against your mouth, hips moving faster.

You moaned and panted before you tugged him closer in a flurry of unrestrained lust and want.

His hips piston vigorously, driven wild by the thought of impregnating you. He tears his mouth from yours with a rasping groan.

"Fuck, I can feel it moving inside you… Gonna pump you full again if you keep grinding like that." He bites your neck harshly, marking you.

You heave breaths, eyes half-lidded and dazed as you look up at him, lips quivering. "Goj’..."

He captured your gaze, his blue eyes smoldering with a mixture of desire and mischief. A playful grin danced across his lips, and you could see the gleam of determination in his expression.

“Say it again,” He growled, his breath heavy against your skin. “Just like that.”

“Goj’,” You breathed, breathless. It felt almost surreal how easily he was able to push you to your limits, playing you like a finely tuned instrument, each note perfectly aligned with the rhythm of your pounding heart.

His groan vibrated against your throat as he buried himself deeper, his thrusts becoming more demanding, more primal.

“That’s it… just like that,” He purred, dragging his teeth against your collarbone possessively.

You squirmed beneath him, feeling the overwhelming heat pooling low in your stomach.

Your body responded without hesitation—your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your hips rolling to meet his every thrust as if they were made for each other.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he hammered into you relentlessly.

“I want you to feel me every single day, whether our families want it or not,” He panted, his voice thick with lust. “I want you to know who owns this body, who fills you with promise.”

The way he spoke dug deep into that vulnerable part of you, where feelings you previously ignored began to stir.

Your eyes widened, heart racing in tandem with his thrusts. It was maddening, glorious, and everything you swore you wouldn't allow.

“Just admit it,” He said, his breath hot against your cheek as he pulled back to look deep into your eyes. “You want this just as much as I do.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” You managed to retort amid the haze of pleasure, and he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Fine, hate me all you want,” He breathed, the fire in his eyes unyielding. “Just let me fuck you full, let me breed you like the good little wife you are.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, the commanding nature of them sending thrilling shivers up your spine.

His grip tightened on your thighs as he thrust deeper, the pressure building inside you rapidly, spiraling out of your control.

“F-Fuck, Gojo,” You whimpered, unable to suppress the moans spilling from your lips. “I—”

“Then cum for me,” He begged huskily, his thrusts quickening as he chased his own orgasm, his voice low and intoxicating. “Cum for your husband.”

Your back arched, and with a loud cry, you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, every nerve in your body igniting. You felt the undeniable pressure building and then bursting like a dam, washing over you in waves as you clamped down around him.

“Fuck!” He gritted, his voice raw and primal as he felt you clenching around him like a vice. “That’s it! Just like that!...”

As you rode through your orgasm, he groaned deeply, and with a final, intense thrust, he spilled himself inside you yet again, filling you up with his warmth, marking you in the most primal way imaginable.

You both collapsed onto the sheets, panting heavily, hearts racing wildly as the reality of what just transpired settled over you like a heavy blanket.

The silence hung thick in the air, broken only by your ragged breaths and the soft crash of waves outside.

A moment passed before Gojo broke the silence, his cheeks flushing slightly as he casually brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Well,” He said playfully, tracing light patterns on your skin with his fingers. “That was… educational.”

You let out a soft, exhausted laugh. “You can say that again.”

He smirked, leaning down to nuzzle against your skin. “I think I might get used to this whole ‘family alliance’ thing. Especially if it comes with you as my personal breeding toy.”

You rolled your eyes, masking the way your body twitches with pulsing satisfaction.

“Just remember,” You started with a puff of breath before continuing. “This doesn’t change anything between us.”

He chuckled deeply, pulling you closer, his breath fanning against your ear. “Sure it does. You’re stuck with me now, wifey. Besides, I can’t wait to see how cute our mini us’s will be someday.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words.

If anything, you could definitely come to appreciate this unexpected partnership, sometimes even enemies could find a way to make things work in the end.

As the sun began to set outside, casting a golden glow over the villa, you let out a contented sigh, deciding to simply enjoy this moment, the chaos of your new reality be damned.

Masterlist. Masterlist.jjk

March 12, 2025. PST: 12:36 PM.

#Satoru Gojo #Satoru Gojo Smut #Satoru x Reader #Jujutsu Kaisen Smut #Smut #Oneshots #Aesthetic_rxssxs

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