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alygator77 · 20 days ago

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꧁ unwrapping you ꧂

❥・pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader

❥・summary. it’s satoru’s birthday, but tonight, you’re the one giving the surprises. taking charge in a way he never saw coming, you leave the strongest man completely unraveled—and utterly yours.

❥・tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, smut, fluff, established relationship, you're both sorcerers, satoru's a dom but you switch on him, feral satoru, needy satoru, praise, blowjob, penetration, creampie

❥・wc. 4.7k

❥・a/n. happy bday to pookie. i wanted this out yesterday, but better late than never~

Clue #1: Not even Six Eyes can see where this hunt will take you~ Let’s test that vision, birthday boy ♡

Perched atop a box of his favorite candy, the first clue card leaned casually—daring him to dive in.

Taking a step back, you scan the setup one last time—adjusting the candy box perfectly against the coffee table, trying to get it right.

Everything had to be perfect. Were you a bit over the top? Maybe.

But with Satoru, drama was practically a love language—one you were willing to indulge for your strongest sorcerer.

As you step back one last time, a familiar tingle runs down your spine—a whisper of energy brushing against your senses.

His cursed energy. He was close.

Exhaling softly, you dart toward the hallway, slipping just out of view. The faint buzz of his presence grows stronger, steady and sure, like the hum of electricity before a storm—both a beacon of his immense power and an anchor of comfort.

Pressing your back against the wall, you bite back a grin. Timing this just right was everything—you want to spoil him today.

As the front door creaked open, his voice rang through the silence.

"Babe? I’m home!"

His tone carries that familiar playfulness—though there’s a faint edge to it, a tiredness that only you can catch.

Oh, Satoru.

You’d spent half the morning trying to talk him into staying home, coaxing him to let himself off the hook for just one day. But, in true Satoru fashion, he had only laughed, brushing you off with a wink and that infuriatingly charming grin.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he’d said, adjusting his blindfold like he was gearing up for battle. “The strongest doesn’t get days off. Besides, they’d be lost without me.”

It was a line he loved to repeat—part pride, part persona, but you knew better.

Beneath the confidence and swagger was someone who carried more weight than he’d ever admit—a man who wouldn’t let himself slow down, even when the exhaustion clung to him like a second shadow.

Stepping inside, his long frame stretched ever so slightly as he leaned against the doorframe for a moment. His snowy hair catches the dim light, strands framing his sharp features, and a soft sigh escapes his lips—quiet but telling.

With an almost lazy motion, he toes off his shoes, the soft thud echoing through the entryway. He stood for a beat, rolling his neck as if shaking off the day before reaching up to tug off his blindfold. As the fabric slips through his fingers, he absently ruffles his hair.

“Sweetheart?” he calls again, a little softer now, curiosity threading through his tone.

His gaze sweeps the room, sharp and calculating, lingering on the quiet corners as if he could sense you hiding just out of view.

And let’s face it, he probably could—nothing gets past those eyes. But you hope, no pray that your cursed veil keeps you concealed. Just this once. You’ve been practicing, trying to catch up to him.

Your heart races as you watched him settle, and the moment his eyes land on the candy box perched on the coffee table, his head tilts slightly—a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he plucks the card from the box.

“What’s this?” he muses, lifting the card as he holds it up into the light. “Not even Six Eyes can see where this hunt will take you… let’s test that vision, birthday boy… oho, really now?” he smirks.

Flipping the card over, his grin grows as his eyes scan the back.

“A clue?” he murmurs, tilting his head as he reads the next message. "Start where we share quiet mornings, and you always steal the last sip," he quotes, carrying an affectionate lilt. His grin widens as his fingers tap the card lightly against his chin. “Sooo… the kitchen then?”

Glancing toward the kitchen, Satoru smirks, muttering to himself “Alright, let’s play.”

Peeking out from your hiding spot, your grin grows as you watch him step through the doorway.

Got him.

The moment he enters the kitchen, he pauses by the counter, and his sharp blue eyes narrow slightly, sweeping over the surfaces. His fingers brush against a stray mug, and his grin grows wider, realization flickering across his face.

"Stealing the last sip… huh?” he murmurs to himself, the phrase clicking into place.

Of course. How many times had Satoru leaned over your shoulder, stealing the final taste of your coffee with that maddening smirk, knowing full well he’d get a playful swat in return?

Moving towards the coffee machine, his long legs carry him in unhurried strides, before his gaze lands on the next clue—nestled beside the machine on a small tray.

Sitting against the counter, the tray held perfectly arranged kikifuku mochi—a chilled bottle of melon soda alongside it—its condensation gathering in lazy droplets, catching the light.

Oh, he’s pleased—his favorite indulgences. With a soft grin, he leans against the counter, plucking one of the mochi off the plate.

“You know me too well…” he sighs.

Holding up the mochi, he inspects it with mock seriousness, before plopping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Mm, perfect as always,” he mutters to himself, savoring the sweetness spreading across his tongue as he reaches for the melon soda next—twisting off the cap with an easy flick and taking a small sip.

“Alright…” he sighs contentedly, placing the soda down. “You’re spoiling me now, sweetheart. But where are you? I wanna properly thank you.”

He pauses for a moment, waiting for you to reveal yourself, but then, his gaze flicks to the card nestled beside the tray.

Picking it up, a slow grin breaks across his face as he begins reading it.

“More? Let’s see what’s next…”

Clue #2: A little sweetness to keep you going—because even the strongest needs a sugar boost. Happy Birthday, my favorite mochi thief!

With a quiet laugh, Satoru shakes his head, flipping the card over to reveal the next clue.

Clue #2: Your next clue waits where the fog clears and your ego shines brightest—my handsome birthday boy.

Satoru hums, an eyebrow raising.

“Ohhh, I see how it is… butter me up with mochi, and then call me out. And during my own birthday scavenger hunt? Rude.”

Placing the card down, he opts to plop another mochi into his mouth—humming contently as the sweetness melts on his tongue.

"Alright, alright… the bathroom mirror must be next,” he sighs, grinning as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s see what you’ve got waiting for me there.”

Stepping into the bathroom, his sharp eyes immediately catch sight of the bold, glossy red lipstick, pressed in a kiss against the mirror. Below it, a small note is taped to the glass, written in your familiar handwriting:

💋 A kiss for the handsomest birthday boy—don’t worry though, I left room for you to admire yourself too♡

His lips curve into a wide grin, and leaning in closer, he tilts his head—studying the lipstick mark with mock seriousness. As his fingers brush the edge of the note, he lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"Tch… a kiss and a roast, all in one. Wow. Classic you…" he mutters with a dramatic pout. Staring at the mirror for a beat longer, he groans, letting out a soft whine. "But where are my real kisses, sweetheart? You can’t just leave me hanging like this on my birthday."

He waits again—ready for you to reveal yourself, but nothing. Then, his gaze drops, and he notices a sleek bottle of cologne sitting neatly on the counter—a second card propped beside it.

Picking it up, he turns the bottle over, inspecting it in one hand before plucking the card from its resting place with his other.

Clue #3: A spritz of this and you’ll be even harder to resist. Hehe. Not that I needed any convincing~

A wicked grin breaks across his face as he chuckles, uncapping the bottle.

“You’re really going all out, aren’t you?” he murmurs, spraying the cologne lightly onto his neck and wrist—his head tilting as the scent unfurls around him. “Mmm, well… my girl always has good taste…”

His fingers linger on the bottle for a moment before setting it down, but then, he blinks—his eyes growing wide as he flips the card—reading what’s on the back.

Clue #3: Your final present is where all good nights begin… and some even better ones end. Don’t keep me waiting, birthday boy ♡

・❥・

As Satoru creeks the bedroom door open, the room is bathed in a warm flickering candlelight—dancing along the walls with playful shadows, shifting with every subtle movement.

His cerulean eyes scan the dimly lit space, snowy lashes fluttering as he searches for you—where are you? The faint scent of vanilla and something sweeter—undeniably you—lingers in the air.

“Alright…” he drawls softly, “Darling, where, and how, are you hiding from me?”

He turns around to close the door softly behind him, but as he shifts back, before he can take another step, movement catches his eyes—you—revealed like a secret unveiled.

His breath catches audibly and he is momentarily frozen as you step forward from behind the door—delicate lace clinging against your curves, the intricate patterns of your elegant lingerie teasing him with glimpses of your supple skin.

This wasn’t like you. Not completely. The confident tilt of your head, the way you step toward him with deliberate, measured grace—it’s a side of you he doesn’t see often, and it stirs something deep within him.

For weeks, you’d been planning this moment, turning the idea over in your mind, wavering between uncertainty and resolve. But now, standing here under his gaze, you feel no hesitation. The roles were shifting, and the change sends a delicious thrill coursing through his veins.

His silence bolsters your resolve, and tilting your head slightly, a slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips.

“Hey, welcome home. Happy birthday, Satoru.”

His lips part, a sharp exhale slipping past them before he regains his composure. His eyes—darkened now with a heat that’s growing deep between his legs—sweep over you once more before flicking back up to meet yours.

“Well… hello," his voice is low, edged with restraint, and there’s a flicker of a grin on his lips—lazy and teasing—but it falters briefly as his gaze dips again.

“I don’t know if I want to worship you, or ruin you…"

As his grin grows, sharper now, he leans his weight slightly against the doorframe. Tilting his head, his white tousled hair falls into his eyes as he looks at you—like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

“Maybe both… definitely both.”

Stepping closer, your fingers reach for him, trailing lightly up his chest.

"Enjoying the view?" you trace the lines of his shirt with teasing precision. "Or… do you need a closer look, birthday boy?"

The corner of his mouth twitches into a grin as your hands begin brushing over his shoulders—sliding down his arms. His hand rises, catching yours as his fingers curl gently around it.

“My, my, princess,” he drawls, gaze flicking across your body approvingly. “Is this what you were planning while I was out saving the world? Remind me to never leave you alone again.”

Before you can counter, his other hand slides to your waist, pulling you flush against him and his growing erection.

“I think I need a very… very close look indeed, gorgeous,” his lips brush against the shell of your ear before giving it a gentle nip. “But first… let me have a taste of you.”

The moment the words leave his lips, his mouth captures yours in a kiss that steals the air from your very lungs. He was hungry for you—something wild snapping within him as your fingers tangle in his silky hair, humming softly against his lips.

He growls, consuming you as his tongue teases the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart—and of course, you surrender to him. The kiss becomes electric—his hands sliding down to your ass, pulling you insistently against him as he kneads your curves desperately.

"Mmm," he hums, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips. “Yes… fuck, you’re perfect…” he grins, nudging you back towards the bed, unhurried but insistent as he murmurs, “happy birthday to me…”

He swallows your laugh, continuing to kiss you breathlessly as his hands caress you, but you gasp into his mouth the moment the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

As your body bounces against the bed, his weight follows immediately—sliding his knee between your legs, nudging them apart. The heat radiating from him is intoxicating, and the world outside ceases to exist as he leans over you—white hair falling like a curtain around you both.

Ah… but wait… this is your day to be in control.

Before he can take full command, you grin against his lips, shifting your weight underneath him.

“Oh, Satoru…” you push him back, flipping your positions as you force him onto his back. “Who said I was done with you?”

The moment he hits the mattress, a soft huff of surprise escapes him as you climb over him—straddling his hips with a grin that’s equal parts playful and wicked.

“Wha—”

He blinks up at you, his sharp blue eyes wide for a fraction of a second before they darken with interest. Then, a slow, lazy grin spreads across his face as his hands settle on your thighs—both possessive yet gentle.

“Well, well…” his thumbs draw slow, lazy circles against your skin. “Look who’s taking charge…”

Leaning forward, you caress the curve of his jaw—your lips hovering just over his. He groans as his fingers tighten on your thighs.

“You’re always so quick to take control…” your lips brush against his in a feather-light tease, leaving him chasing after you as you pull back. “Buuut… it’s your birthday, Satoru. Today, let me spoil you.”

His breath hitches as your fingers trail down his chest—toying with the buttons of his shirt—one by one, unfastening them, slowly and deliberately.

As the fabric draws apart, the pale expanse of his chest is revealed, and your hands begin mapping out his muscles. You feel him grow underneath you, spurring you on.

“F-Fuck—,” he groans as your lips find the curve of his neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses down the hollow of his throat.

Tilting hit head back, his snowy hair splays like a halo around him as he bares more of his throat to you—a surrender, yet the way his hands flex against your thighs tells you how close he is to snapping.

You know he wants to flip you beneath him and take what he wants.

As his cock stiffens under you, you smirk against his skin, rolling your hips against him slowly, deliberately—pulling a hoarse sound from his throat as his breath stutters.

“Damn it,” he groans, hands caressing your hips, “you’re driving me fucking insane, you know that?”

You hum in amusement, your kisses trailing lower, following your hands as they map the hard planes of his chest, the taut lines of his stomach. Shifting yourself lower, you reach the waistband of his pants, and your fingers lightly graze the fabric, teasing him with the barest hint of pressure.

His mouth drops open and his hips buck slightly beneath you—a groan escaping him, low and desperate. “Ah—baby…” he breathes, a plea and a prayer, desperate for friction.

Your lips hover just above his stomach, and your fingers dip just beneath the waistband of his pants without going further. The heat of him is palpable, and his hands flex beside him as he watches you through half-lidded eyes.

“What’s wrong, Satoru?” you murmur, light and teasing. “You’re not losing control already… are you? I thought you were the strongest.”

His sharp blue eyes snap open, dark and hooded as they lock onto yours. For a second, he looks torn—caught between letting you lead and giving in to the all-consuming need to dominate.

“Careful sweetheart,” he warns, a growl threading through each word, “or I’ll remind you who’s really in charge.”

The threat is intoxicating, but you don’t falter. You know that if you pushed him just a little further, he’d flip you beneath him and pin you to this bed.

But tonight? Tonight is different. You’re in control, and you’re not letting him take it back—not yet, at least.

“Maybe you’re not as in control as you think you are, birthday boy.”

With a wicked grin, you press your palm lightly against the outline of his erection—a strangled whine tearing through his throat as it throbs eagerly against your hand.

“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands tighten into fists at his sides. “Just… fucking touch me already…”

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease, dragging your palm over his length in a slow, deliberate stroke that has his chest heaving. “You’re really not used to this, are you? Being the one who has to wait…”

His eyes snap back to yours, and the frustration flickering in their depths is delicious.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he mutters.

“Oh, I am,” you admit shamelessly as your fingers finally work at the button of his pants. “And judging by how hard you are…” you drag the zipper down with an excruciating slowness, tracing the prominent outline of his cock with your fingers, “…you don’t seem to mind all that much.”

“Fuck, princess… you…”

As your hand wraps around him through the fabric, your thumb brushes over the damp spot forming at the tip, and the sound that escapes him—half moan, half plea—is utterly sinful.

“Baby, please,” he pants, voice breaking as his hands clutch the sheets. “Touch me… fuck, I need—”

His plea dissolves into a low, aching moan as your fingers finally slip beneath the waistband of his pants, brushing against his bare skin. His cock springs free, hard and heavy, and the sharp exhale he releases—half relief, half desperation—makes your cunt drip in exhilaration.

A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and your thumb smears it slowly, deliberately, as you look up at him through your lashes. His lips part in a silent moan, his chest heaving as his hips jerk toward you again, seeking more of the pleasure you so teasingly deny.

But this time, you don’t deny him.

Your tongue flicks out, tracing a line along his length, allowing the salty tang of his precum to spread in your mouth. As your lips close around the tip, you take him in slowly, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him deeper, inch by inch.

He falls apart.

“Haaa—pretty girl…” his hips snap upward, “so fucking good…” he’s desperate, “just like that… don’t stop.”

And you let him take what he needs—your lips and tongue working in tandem—each broken moan falling from his lips as he loses himself in the wet heat of your mouth.

“hnngh… take it…” his voice is wrecked as his head falls back against the pillow, exposing the long column of his throat. His abs tighten under your hands as his hips roll, pushing deeper, “haaa—fuck… good fucking girl… love that mouth of yours.”

The praise makes heat pool between your legs as you hum softly around him—the filthy, debauched sounds falling from his lips encouraging you further.

But you’re not done teasing him. Not yet.

Just as he’s on the verge of falling apart, you pull back, your lips leaving him with a soft, wet pop—making him groan in frustration. His cock twitches in the cool air—slick with your spit—and the desperation in his eyes when you glance up at him is utterly delicious.

“You’re so easy to unravel Satoru…” your tongue flicks out again and your eyes darken with mischief. “For someone who’s supposed to be the strongest, you really—”

Oh, you’ve done it now.

His hands are on you, gripping your waist as he flips you onto your back, making your head spin. The sudden shift has you gasping, and the wicked grin that spreads across his face is nothing short of feral.

“You’re done,” his fingers hook into the delicate lace of your lingerie, and with a sharp tug, the audible rip makes your eyes widen. “My turn.”

“S-Satoru!” you stare up at him.

“Sorry…” he murmurs, though the grin curling upon his lips is anything but apologetic. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you open as he settles between them. “Just wanted to unwrap my gift.”

The heat of his thick, flushed head presses against your entrance—making your head tilt back, a whimper slipping past your lips as you anticipate what’s to come.

But he doesn’t ease into you. No. Not Satoru.

With a singular thrust, he buries himself to the hilt with a force so intense, it makes your back arch off the bed. The stretch is overwhelming, delicious—every inch of him filling you completely.

You pant, keening, and he stills for a moment, letting you adjust—but… only for a moment. Satoru’s patience doesn’t last long. Not with the way your walls clench around him so intoxicatingly so.

“There we go… that’s it…” he chuckles wickedly as he leans over you, his forehead brushing against yours. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pulls back slightly. “Fucking take it,” his hips snap forward, harder this time. “This what you wanted?”

Your gasp turns into a strangled wine as he sets a brutal pace, his cock driving into your cunt, slamming into you with reckless abandon. The smack of your skin mixes with your broken cries as he takes what he needs.

“Such a tease,” his teeth nip at your neck, drawing a whimper from your lips as he bites down, leaving his mark. “Let’s see how confident you are when you’re screaming my name.”

“S-Satoru—” His name spills from your lips in a broken cry as your nails dig into his biceps, struggling to keep up with his sheer force.

“Yes, my pretty girl?” he coos tauntingly, lips curving into a wicked grin. “Haaa—look at you… falling apart just for me… so fucking tight—God you feel so good.”

He shifts the angle, pulling your legs higher as he sinks deeper—his dick splitting you open, making you see stars. The pressure is maddening, and your thighs tremble as you squirm beneath him.

But he’s relentless.

His hands slide up to catch your wrists, pinning them above your head as he leans over you.

“You’re mine,” his pace grows rougher, harder, the bed shaking underneath you. “Fucking mine. Hear me? Nnnngh… gonna fill you up—fuck, baby, you’re gonna take all of me.”

Your body arches into him, the coil of heat in your core tightening with every thrust until it’s unbearable, ready to snap.

And then it does.

The orgasm tears through you like a tidal wave, your walls clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses as you cry out—gripping him like a vice, pulsing rhythmically as pleasure explodes through your body.

It’s blinding, all-consuming, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as you come apart beneath him.

“Fuck—fuck, yes,” he groans, voice breaking as you tighten around him. His hips stutter, his cock throbbing inside you—the tight, wet heat of your cunt pushing him to his limit. “Shit—I can’t—m’ cuming.”

His body trembles above yours—thick, hot spurts of his cum spilling into you, flooding your core as his cock pulses through his climax.

He’s babbling now—lost in the haze of pleasure—his words tumbling, slurred and wrecked as he collapses against you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he rasps, hips rolling lazily, chasing the last aftershocks as he pushes his cum deeper. “So fucking perfect. Shit—fuck, I love you… love you so much, my good girl.”

For a moment, the room is quiet save for the sound of your uneven breaths and the lingering hum of pleasure coursing through your veins. His hands release your wrists, sliding down your arms to cup your face, brushing over your flushed cheeks as he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

When he pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, his ocean blue eyes heavy-lidded and filled with something softer now—something deeper.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs softly. A lopsided grin tugs at his lips as his fingers trace idle patterns along your jawline. “And sexy as hell, by the way… that little stunt of yours? Taking charge like that?” He chuckles softly, groaning. “Fuck… almost killed me.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, light and breathless as you run your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

“Almost? You’re the one who ripped my lingerie, Satoru,” you arch a brow at him. “You owe me a new set. No—make that two.”

His grin turns sheepish, though the mischievous glint in his eyes remains.

“Consider it done,” he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll always buy you whatever you want. Hell, I’ll buy you a whole drawer full if it means I get to rip it off you again.”

“Good lord,” you roll your eyes, feigning exasperation as you lightly swat his shoulder. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Lucky?” He quirks a brow, grin softening as he leans closer, murmuring against your lips, “Sweetheart… I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

His arms wrap around you, shifting slightly as he pulls you into his chest—rolling onto his side and taking you with him. The sticky warmth of his release drips between your thighs and his hand rubs soothing circles along your back.

“Seriously, though…” he murmurs quietly, eyes softening. “Thank you… for all of this. For you. For everything. I love you so damn much.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your chest tighten, and a slow smile spreads up your lips. You snuggle closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I love you too, Satoru… happy birthday.”

He hums contentedly, and for a moment, you both linger there, bathed in the glow of candlelight—tangled together in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

But when you finally begin to shift, attempting to pull away, his arms tighten around you instantly, accompanied by a soft, petulant whine. His lips brush against your shoulder as he buries his face in the crook of your neck—soft tousles of his hair tickling your skin.

“No,” he mumbles, muffled but unmistakably pouty. “Stay. Like this. Just a little longer.”

“Satoru,” you chide, grinning as your fingers thread through his hair. “I need to get cleaned up honey.”

He pouts harder, his hold tightening as he buries his face further.

“Nope,” he declares stubbornly. “You’re staying right here. Forever.”

His childish protest pulls a laugh from you, light and airy.

“Come on birthday boy…” you wriggle slightly in his arms. “I have to clean up so I can prep your birthday cake.”

That gets his attention.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his sapphire eyes sparkling with playful mischief. A slow, cheeky grin spreads across his face, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Why blow out my candles… when you can just blow me again?”

You blink at him, momentarily caught off guard, before your hand instinctively flies to his shoulder, delivering a light but reprimanding swat.

“S-Satoru!”

He bursts into laughter, warm and unrepentant as he tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest once more.

“What?” he protests innocently, grin widening as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It is my birthday, after all.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your exasperation.

His laughter softens into a contented hum as he nuzzles into your hair, his grip loosening just enough to let you breathe. Perhaps, for now, the world can wait—there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, wrapped up in him.

Your strongest sorcerer.

a/n. i just love him sm :') hbd to our beautifully, sweet & perfect blue eyed king.

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