#I know gojo is a masochist too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

envy-of-the-apple · 8 months ago

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Family Man Part 2

Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader

Part One

Word Count: 8.9k

thx to a very lovely commissioner!!!

Synopsis : Two months after Satoshi’s death, you and your daughter struggle to move on. You’re so lucky that Gojo is there to pick up the pieces.

(Yandere, smut, oral sex both m/f receiving, lactation kink, implied depression, masochistic gojo, ooc gojo, never rlly fixed that, reader has dark skin, xenophobia(NOT by gojo)

Sometimes, you're in bed, and feel like he's right beside you.

For a moment, the last two months disappear. You feel whole again. Sometimes, it’s enough to make you turn around, words on your tongue, already ready to smile and greet him with a kiss.

He isn't there. Nothing's behind you.

And you feel empty all over again.

It's better somedays. The emptiness. It's like a looming visage of gloom. Farther away one day, in your bed the next. Lately, it's growing bigger and bigger. A dark cloud on your shoulder, resting heavier and heavier on your back.

Grief. Mourning. Loss.

When you open the door, the mailman smiles cheerily at you.

"Morning!" He chirps. "Lovely weather we're having today."

You nod, silent as he begins to dig through his bag. He's younger than you, you note. By a decade, at the very least. Barely in his twenties. When you were his age, you were still back home, in the village. When you were his age, Japan was just a faraway country, hardly worth your notice.

He hands you your dues. You take them with a respectful thank you. And then you wait for the inevitable.

On cue, his smile fades. Something pitying fills his gaze. You force yourself to stare right back at him. Insecurity bites at you, and you know he's staring at your dull face. The circles underneath your eyes.

In the background, Reina babbles. He's forced to take his eyes off of you momentarily.

"I heard about your husband." He starts, still staring inside your home. Your hands tighten into fists. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He bows. So do you.

"Thank you." You tell him, rehearsed, just like you practiced millions and millions of times. "I...appreciate it."

He smiles, as if he think he did something, made your life a little easier. You let him bathe in his graciousness, before you shut the door. Away from the sunlight, away from fabricated sympathies. You finally feel like you can breathe again.

It's been like this ever since Satoshi died.

Car wreck. Some drunk had driven too close to the curb. Satoshi had been walking home. He'd missed the bus, he does that often. It's a usual quirk of his, you'd often found it adorably clumsy. Being late was harmless. He wasn't supposed to die for it. It'd been an instant kill, for the both of them. No other witnesses. The scene was cleaned up by the time you got there. The officers kept you in dread for four hours. In that time, you could almost convince yourself that it wasn't him. The reason why he wasn't answering your calls was because his phone had died. He was lost on the other side of town. He was anywhere else, doing anything else.

You were brought to identify the body. Your eyes couldn’t deny what you saw.

You think a part of yourself died with your husband, too. You drift through life like a ghost. Mindless, numb. Colors have all bled into grayish blues. You don’t really feel much of anything anymore.

Reina squeals. You blink back to reality.

She’d dropped her toy. You pick it up. It was a purple stuffed rabbit. Satoshi had gotten it for her the day she was born. She doesn’t even sleep without it.

These days, Reina is the only thing that makes you get up in the morning, even when you don’t want to. She’s the only thing you push yourself for.

You don’t know where you’d be without her.

She’s giggles when you hand it back. She doesn’t even know. How can you even begin to tell your infant that her father is no longer coming home? Someone so new at life should not experience death this soon. It’s a sin. Someone has cursed her. It’s the only explanation you could give.

You kiss her on the top of her head. Her baby hairs are still growing. They resemble yours. Every part of her was you. When you look at her, you don’t see Satoshi.

You used to tease him about it; now, you wish there was just a tiny bit of him on her face.

Or maybe it was a good thing? Did you even want to see the man you loved, mourned for, and hated to think about in your daughter’s eyes? Would it break you even further?

You don’t have to think about questions like those. You have more important things to worry about. When you rifle through the mail, your heart sinks.

Warnings, bills, everything that Satoshi used to handle. Even when your world stopped, the rest of the planet didn’t: ever turning, ever malevolent.

You place the bills down. Reina babbles something.

You bend down to pick her up, she screams in delight when you place her on your lap, peppering her face with kisses.

And maybe your world hadn’t stopped, not just yet.

“There are stains on your blouse.”

You glance down before shrugging.

“Reina dropped her food.” You shrug. “I didn’t have time to clean it up.”

Kiyo doesn’t look very happy about your excuse. She doesn’t say anything about it, preferring to glare at you in silent disapproval as she always does. Usually, you’d have Satoshi acting as a barrier between you and your mother-in-law. For obvious reasons, that wasn’t feasible at the moment.

Reina was being entertained by your father-in-law. Satoshi had inherited Isamu’s bald spot as well as his gentleness. Reina kicked her feet as Isamu muttered soft words, as though they were communicating, even though Reina hadn’t even said her first words yet.

Another milestone Satoshi would miss.

“We made adjustments to the will,” Kiyo announces. “Everything will be passed onto Reina when she comes of age.”

You nod, not very interested in politics and lands. Satoshi came from a traditional family. Japanese nobility, though he wasn’t fond of talking about his background. You were always fine with it. You never married him for the money, despite what your mother-in-law thinks.

On cue, Kiyo snaps her fingers. You blink in her direction.

She frowns, but you’ve never seen her smile in your presence.

“I would appreciate if you could pay attention when discussing my grandchild’s future.” She more or less hisses.

“I am,” you give. “Trust me, no one else is more invested in my daughter’s future than me.”

It makes her even more mad, but you’re too drained to play ‘submissive daughter-in-law’ with her. From the moment Satoshi introduced you as his fiance’, Kiyo had hated you. Nothing you did could make her like you. Not even when you learned the language perfectly, immersed yourself in Japanese culture.

She never said it out loud, but you knew what she thought of you. She wanted someone different for her son: someone with pale skin, straight hair, and Japanese heritage.

You wonder if she blames you for his death.

“You haven't gone to visit him,” She says, after she breaks her death stare, “you should.”

A part of you wants to say no, but you’re in her home, and you know she doesn’t take it lightly when guests (not family, you were not family) reject her. So you do as she suggested. You rise, glancing at Reina before ultimately stepping out of Satoshi’s childhood home.

He was just as you had left him. His gravestone stood tall and proud. Even next to all the other graves, his was the tallest. It must be Kiyo’s doing. No matter the gripes she had about you, her child would always reach for the skies.

His incense had to be switched. You did so, throwing out the burnt sticks and replacing them with new ones. You watched the smoke flicker away from his altar. A lone picture of him, a shy smile. It was from back when he was younger. His hair was still there. An office job hadn’t dulled his eyes.

You wanted to keep the ashes. Just a tiny piece of him, tucked by your own altar you had. Kiyo had refused, wanting the entire body to be cremated and kept in one piece. Too broken, you hadn’t pushed. Now, all you were left with his clothes and the fading scent on the pillows. You regret not fighting more that day.

You don’t cry. Not today. A part of you is proud. It feels like it’s much too early to feel so numb to this grave. It’s too early for this to feel normal.

You touch the cold stone. It’s smooth underneath your fingertips.

Your in-laws are right inside the house. You still feel lonely.

“You shouldn’t have left.” You told the tomb. “You shouldn’t have abandoned me like this.”

When you curse Satoshi’s grave, you could have sworn you felt a tiny tingle by your neck.

On Thursdays, you take Reina shopping.

She’s a hit with the local farmers market. The shopkeepers coo at her giggles and beautiful eyes as you haggle prices for vegetables and grains. It’s nice to get back on routine. Even with everything going on.

The bills were still on the counter when you left. More and more were coming in. You feel like you were being buried alive.

Reina kicks her feet. When you look at her, her chubby cheeks are stretched in the wide smile. You smile back, and then you pepper her face with kisses. These days, you’ve opted out of the bus, trying to save some money. It’ll just be until you find a job. Then, you can take as many Air-conditioned rides as you want.

There’s a honk. You ignore it. A car rolls to a stop beside the sidewalk. You take a peek, and then you stop and stare.

“Mr. Gojo?” You ask.

“Hey! Long time!” The man waves cheerily.

You give a timid smile, waving. Reina, your polar opposite, screams in delight. She frantically leans out of your arms as though she could get to Gojo by sheer will. You quickly rearrange your hands to balance her.

“What’re you doing out there?” He frowns. “Especially in this heat?”

“Ah.” Subconsciously, you wipe the sweat off your neck. “We were heading home from the market.”

He brightens. “Wanna hop in? It’s way too hot to walk that far.”

You smile, about to politely decline but then you remember infants shouldn’t be in this weather for too long.

Gojo’s car is luxurious, but the biggest relief is the cool air blowing over your heated skin. Reina is ecstatic to be next to Gojo. She babbles something, reaching out her tiny arms. Gojo takes her immediately.

“And how’s the prettiest girl in the world doing, today?” He grins, lifting her above his head. She coos.

You’re not really sure how Gojo walked into your life. You met him once before. That day when Satoshi had a mental breakdown and practically ran away from home. Gojo was so ansty back then, and it made sense why he and your husband got along so well.

He was the one who brought home Satoshi’s essentials from work—his computer, his notes—and then he started delivering Satoshi’s work mail. Then, sometimes, he’d stop by for lunch. And then he started bringing toys for Reina. Two months passed, and you know him now.

Not well. But you know Gojo enough to slip into the passenger seat, watching how he handles Reina.

“Okay, Car ride!” He tells her. She claps her hands as he gently hands her back to you.

“Thank you again, Mr. Gojo.” You tell him. “Really, this means a lot.”

He waves you off, starting the car. “Don’t worry about it, Seriously. Got nothin’ better to do anyway. Also, I told you already, call me Satoru.”

You smile, shifting away. You don’t know why Gojo is insistent on helping a widow. He was the friend of your late husband (though, strangely, Satoshi never spoke of the man before or after the quick introductions). Maybe it’s guilt. But unlike the rest of the people who knew, Gojo never once looked at you like that as though you were in pieces in front of him. It was nice, finally having someone like that. Someone who doesn’t see you as the widow of a dead man.

He was a nice young man. You shouldn’t be so quick to assume everyone has an underlying motive.

Maybe some people were just as they are. Nice.

“Grocery shopping?” He mentions to your bag. It creases under your grip.

You nod. “Dinner. You’re welcome to join, but I’m not making anything special.”

“I’d never pass up a meal from you, ma’am,” Gojo says, happily.

You like to keep to yourself, but he was driving you home. It was the least you could do to pay back his hospitality, as well as the other things he had done for you. Honestly, your bucket for Gojo’s hospitality wasn't yet empty.

When the car rolls to a stop, Gojo hops out, opening the door before you can touch it. You thank him, Reina huddled safely in your arms and fast asleep. Gojo grins, not before grabbing your groceries and leading the way.

Your house is sparser than it had been just months ago. Less decoration. Less silly memoirs. No pictures. You dumped them all, stored them in a tiny box before locking them all in the attic. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.

Gojo waltzes into your home like he owns it. You don’t mind. He’s young, still in his twenties, at his prime. These days, you can feel things start to break down within you. Your shoulder hurts when you sleep on it the wrong way. You have to be more careful about picking up things from off the ground. You can’t tell whether this has to do with the remnants of pregnancy or your age, but you’re envious of Gojo’s youthful strength either way.

He places the bags on the counter. By then, Reina’s awake. She blearily blinks at you. You were hoping she’d stay asleep for a little while longer.

“I can watch her!” Gojo pipes up, extending his hands. Reina’s overjoyed to be handed over. It’s nice to have your hands full with something else other than baby

You listen to them giggle while you get started on dinner. It’s your usual dance. Potatoes. The sounds of boiling water. You want to make something simple, but Gojo is here, and you don’t want to disappoint your guest. By the time you’re back out, it’s nearly an hour, and the food has yet to be served.

They don’t seem to mind. Gojo had taken Reina onto the floor. You don’t complain. It’s where she usually played anyway. He was driving one of her wooden cars on the carpet, running it across the floor, as Reina clapped to her heart’s content. You could only watch, heart strangely numb.

He’s good with her.

Like Satoshi was.

You clear your throat. Gojo looks up.

“Food’s ready.” You tell him with a stiff smile. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll take care of her.”

“Be good, okay?” He pats Reina’s head before standing up. You take her into your arms.

She’s tired from playing. Reina settles in the crib rather nicely. It’s relieving. When she’s asleep, you can’t bring yourself to leave. You watch her. Her chest rises and falls. She snores. It’s the most adoring noise you’ve ever heard.

When you head back to the kitchen, Gojo’s already back. He grins, clearly eager.

“You cooked a lot.” He comments when you two finally settle down. “Not that I’m complaining!”

“I hope it’s to your liking,” you say as always.

And it is. Gojo never hides from giving his compliments. He’s so genuine and sincere, and it makes you a bit bashful.

“Mrs. Sawai, this stuff right here is sometimes the highlight of my day,” he says. You shake your head.

“It’s true! You have talent. You should open up a restaurant or something! Wait no, don’t do that...you’d be booked for years, and I’ll never eat your cooking again.” That makes you laugh. He seems pleased for some reason.

“Thank you,” you say, “I appreciate that.”

“How was your week? Your students?” You prod.

“Good. They’re all good!” He chirps back. “I was out of town for the week, so returning to my precious students was the best.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I wish I could just pack them all in my suitcase and take ‘em with me. They’re the cutest things.”

He said he taught at a religious school, which you found strange because Gojo didn’t really strike you as religious. Nevertheless, he seemed very passionate about teaching. It was rather endearing.

Did Satoshi ever have that kind of passion for his job?

“Reina reminds me of them. The youth.” Gojo adds. “Endless potential. The kids are all like...seeds, right? They just need the proper care to bloom.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” you say.

When dinner’s over, you gather the utensils and bowls. Gojo offers to help, but you don't bite, insisting that he rests. It gives you time to decompress. As much as you like Gojo, he’s a bit severe. You can’t be around him for too long, he’s too bright. His companionship is much like a furnace. Warm, but too much, and you burn.

When you return, you expect him to put his shoes back on, waiting by the door.

Instead, Gojo is perched on the counter—his hands card through your mail.

You stare. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised at being caught. He doesn’t startle; he barely spares you a glance, perusing over your bills like they were his. You know you should say something. Anger. It should bubble up instead of the shame. You open your mouth—

“How much?” He suddenly asks.

You fumble. “What?”

He waves the envelopes. “How much is it?”

You say nothing. He shrugs, as if that’s an answer itself.

Gojo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a checkbook. You move when he plucks a stray pen from the counter.

“What are you doing?” You ask, incredibly lost.

“I’m not real good with money.” He sheepishly admits before tearing off the slip and handing it to you. “But this should be enough, right?”

You stare at the amount. You’ve never held this much money before.

“I can’t accept this.” You instantly say. Instinct.

You go to hand this back. He puts a hand on his chin.

“Tell you what.” He tells you. “If I gotta take this back, I’m just gonna head to the bank, cash it in myself, and throw all the money into the river.” He grins at your horrified expression. “And it’ll all be in Yuan, so even if someone fishes it out, no one’s gonna be able to use it. One way or another, that money’s getting outta’ my bank.”

His voice softens, akin to butter. It melts into your ears.

“This isn’t out of obligation or anything. I’m giving this to you because I want to help my friend. That’s it.”

Gojo has never looked at you in pity, not like the others. He’s always looked at you like...well, you could never understand his expression. You stare at him. His sunglasses have tilted over, showcasing those gorgeous blue eyes.

Why? Why are you doing this? You want to ask him. It’s killing you inside. Is it pity for the wife of a dead friend? Why was he doing this to you?

You think of Reina. Happy giggling, Reina, with your eyes and your hair.

“It’s not like I don't have any to spare. I’m, like, loaded,” Gojo continues with his usual snark, and you think of the fancy black car parked in front of your tiny house. “And if that isn’t enough for you, just think of it as me paying you back after all those times I’ve eaten your food.”

You lower your gaze when you take the check.

“I’ll pay you back—”

“—I won’t accept it.” He grins, and you have to smile at his tenacity.

“Thank you. No, really.” You keep the check close to your chest. “Thank you, Mr.Gojo.”

He angles his sunglasses down. He looks expectant. Just this once.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

“No problem!” He pops his frames back into place.

You see him off. When he’s behind the wheel, he gives an excited wave. You shyly wave back.

And then you feel a touch right on your back. When you turn, there’s nothing but air.

Sometimes, you dream of home.

Your real home. The village is far, far away from Japan. Where you lived with your parents and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. On sweltering summer nights, you and the other children would sleep on the terrace underneath the stars. There were dirt paths, and rolling hills but the sky was clear every night.

In the village, tradition was everything. You used to hate it. Every day was the same. An endless cycle. You used to dance back then, your family had pushed you into it. As a child, you thought it was stupid.

Maybe that’s what pulled you towards the city—bustling roads, people everywhere. Your college was a town in and of itself. You met so many new people every day.

Satoshi was one of them.

When you brought them to your family, everyone was in awe. He was a foreigner. He was well-off, too; he came from a traditional Japanese family.

It was your Nani who pulled you aside as your family gushed about him.

“Are you sure about this one?” She had asked.

You nodded. Back then, you were young and in love. He was everything you could have dreamed of. New, exciting.

She doesn’t smile.

“Be careful.”

You remembered her words, even after you ran off with Satoshi to Japan. You remembered her words even after Satoshi assured you he wanted you to stay home and he’d work. You remembered her words when Reina was born. You remembered her words when you and Satoshi’s lives were perfect and happy.

And then you woke up.

Your village was gone. Instead of waking up in a pile of your siblings, you were alone on a giant bed.

It’s dark in your home. Satoshi hated having the lights off.

You looked to the crib. Reina was still asleep. During nights like these, you often bring her to sleep with you. It still isn’t enough, sometimes.

You’re a terrible mother. Why isn’t your own daughter enough for you?

Careful not to wake her, you slip out of bed, walking into the closet. You reach up, feeling your way on one of the shelves.

The photo album is dusty. You cough a bit when you open the book.

There’s you. Younger, stupider, garbed in your traditional dance dress. You always found that outfit so itchy. The photo was taken right after you’d placed first in one of your last competitions. Even in the photo, you had this look of disdain, holding that trophy like it was nothing but a heavy burden.

You still have that trophy a decade later.

You flip another page. Your parents. Your cousins. Your Aunts and Uncles. You stare at the photo of you holding your baby cousin. He was the same age as Reina when that picture was taken. That was ten years ago.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your family. Reina hadn’t met her grandparents, her own cousins. You never got the chance to. Satoshi was always so anxious about leaving Japan.

They’ve seen her, through video calls and photos. But that’s different than touching her, bonding with her.

You stare at the photo of you posing with the rest of your siblings and cousins. Strangely, you feel like you robbed something from Reina.

You miss home.

You cry until the album shuts itself closed, and the sun starts peeking through the windows.

“You good?” Satoru suddenly asks.

You blink, eyelashes fluttering as you stare at him. He’s on the floor again, watching Reina as she clacks a few wooden blocks together. It isn’t quiet. The babbling, too. She’d already knocked over the tower Satoru had built. He didn’t seem too upset by her destruction.

“Oh,” you say, “yes. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

As discretely as you can, you rub at your eyes, hoping that would shoo the dark circles away. It doesn’t help.

“I...just haven’t been sleeping too well these days. That’s all.”

Reina says something, not too happy with the lack of attention. Satoru gives her another block. He’d given her a bunch of toys, this time. You weren’t sure where to even store half of them. If he kept this up, pretty soon Reina’s entire room will be filled with dolls mirrors, and blocks.

“What’s been going on?” He asks.

You’re not sure how to answer that. You aren’t sure what’s been going on yourself. All that you know is that it’s getting worse. You can’t sleep at night, most nights like there’s something pressing you down. Things are going missing. You feel like you’re being watched constantly over and over again.

It only goes away whenever Satoru’s around. Maybe that’s why you’re more tolerant of his space.

“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’ve just misplaced a few things. It’s been aggravating looking for them.”

“Hm.” He cocks his head, you can’t decipher his tone. “Really?”

“I’ll find them eventually.”

He’s silent for a few more moments and then—

“Maybe you’re haunted.”

You laugh. It’s mean and sardonic, but you haven’t laughed in a while, and you hide away when Satoru stares.

“A ghost?” You question. “Those don’t exist.”

In the village, superstition was everywhere. Guess that never changed, no matter what corner of the world you ran to.

“Not a ghost.” He corrects. “Maybe something else.”

You hum, unamused. Satoru turns to Reina with an all-too-wide smile on his face.

“It’ll be right behind you, and you won’t even know it.” He tells her. “Then, it’ll draw closer, and closer, and closer until....it gets ya—”

To further his point, his hands shoot out to lightly jostle her. Reina squeals, absolutely thrilled.

Then, Satoru turns to you.

“Or something like that.”

You aren’t impressed.

“Ghosts aren’t real.” You tell him.

“They certainly aren’t.” He agrees. “But other things are.”

Satoshi acted strangely two days before his death.

He was always anxious, but this was even worse than before. Constantly looking behind him, like they’d be something there. You know he wouldn’t sleep. He’d just lay there, shifting in panic.

You don’t prod until you find him in the bathroom in clear hysterics.

“I messed up,” he mumbles over and over again. “I messed up. I messed up.”

“Satoshi.” You beg, kneeling on the tile next to him. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I messed up.” He tells you again. “I keep messing up.”

And then he sobs. He cries so loudly, you’re worried it might wake up Reina. You hug him. Hold him close to your chest, letting him cry himself out.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love Reina. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You ask.

He looks at you then.

“For cheating.”

You remember every detail. The crinkle in his eyes. The beginning stages of wrinkles in his face. A picture entirely stamped into your memory.

“I forgive you.” You immediately say. “I—I forgive you. We—we can work through this.”

“We can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better. She deserves better, too. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything when you prod. Who, how, when. Your husband cheated on you. You aren’t even allowed to grieve your dying marriage when you have to grieve your dead husband.

You meant what you said. You forgave him. You would have worked through it. Fixed it. Because your marriage with Satoshi was perfect.

Perfect.

It was a perfect marriage when he never stood up for you in front of his mother. It was a perfect marriage when all he did back from work was eat and sleep. It was a perfect marriage when he cheated on you.

Rose-tinted glasses. Maybe your relationship wasn’t the most perfect.

But it was fixable.

Reina’s crying in her crib. The thing on your chest is back.

You fumble through the dark, reaching for her. She’s crying even louder when you pick her up, even when you rock her in your arms.

“Please stop.” You beg. “Please stop crying.”

She doesn’t. The pressure gets bigger.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” Satoru’s asking when you’re finished putting away the groceries. He’d offered you a ride again. You wondered when you stopped being surprised at his frequent pop-ins.

“The same as always,” you respond.

You’re not used to the house being so quiet. Reina’s always doing something. For an infant, she’s rather loud.

But she isn’t here today. Kiyo wanted her Grandaughter for the night. You obliged, letting your Mother-in-law whisk Reina away. Was she even your mother-in-law anymore?

“So nothing?” Satoru prods, and you wonder why he’s so persistent on the answer. Maybe he wants to tease you.

The differences between you and him are staggering. He’s young, still in his twenties, he probably still goes out clubbing, drinking, whatever kids his age are into. You are...older, a mom, unsure if the tight skirts you wore 15 years ago would still fit you.

“If you don't got any plans, why don’t you hang out with me tonight?”

You stare at him.

“Don’t gimme that look. You act like I’m gonna rob you.” He complains. “Let yourself loose a bit. What do you even do for fun, these days?”

That stumped you. Apart from lounging around, sulking, job hunting, revolving around Reina, you haven’t done much. When’s the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru?

“There’s a bar that opened up. Not too far from here.” He muses. “Wanna go?”

You hesitate, “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not good at handling alcohol—”

“Same! Total lightweight.” He gushes. “It’ll still be fun, though! What do you say?”

Why, you want to ask. Why is he so insistent on spending time with you. Asking about you. About Reina. What does he want from your broken family? Your mind can’t piece together the images—connect the dots.

“Okay,” you say instead.

Three hours later, you’re dressed in the most flattering clothing in the back of your closet. Satoru looks pristine as always, and you wonder if there’s ever a chance he could look any less put together. Under the dim lights, he’s almost glowing. You can’t stare at him for too long.

The conversation is light, not too purposeful. You wander from one topic to the next. He talks about his co-workers. His school. You’ve always wondered about this teaching job. He seemed to never want to shut up about his students, but whenever you try to pry about the details, he starts to drift away. The most you’ve gotten from him was rambling about how it was a private religious school before he sprung into something else.

“Did you have any pets?” He asks, “Growing up, I mean.”

You shrug. “There were a lot of stray dogs, in my hometown. We would feed them, but no. No pets.”

“You?” You prod.

He takes a moment, genuinely thinking.

“My family had a dog, not too long after I was born. After that, nothing.” You were surprised, he answered. The alcohol must make his lips a little looser.

“I think having a dog would be nice,” you muse, mostly to yourself, “maybe an older one. Less energy.”

“What pet do you think I should have?” He asks.

You stare at him. He’s grinning.

“A rock,” you respond, and when he laughs, you laugh a bit, too.

“I like it when you smile like that,” he says when his voice recovers. “You get all blushy.”

You frown, discretely checking your face in the glass.

“I don’t blush.” You say. “My skin’s too dark.”

He tips his sunglasses down, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. You shift away. His gaze doesn’t let you get far.

“Not really,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “It’s subtle, but it’s still there. It’s a nice color.”

He’s teasing you. You know that. Still, you look away. He laughs again. It sounds like twinkling bells.

“How’s everything holdin’ up with the house?” He asks when you’re nursing your 3rd drink. “I know you had a couple of issues earlier.”

You shrug, lips loose, feeling warm. “I don’t think I have to worry about it. Not anymore.”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“I’m thinking of going back home.”

He stops messing with his drink. You don’t notice, thoughts hazy.

“Back...to your country?” Satoru asks carefully.

You nod absentmindedly. “I only came here because of Satoshi. Now that he’s...I think it’s best for Reina if we go back.”

You want her to live with her maternal culture. You want her to meet your side of the family finally. Maybe, when she’s older, you can put her in your old dance garments. She’ll probably hate it, much like you did. She’ll be good at it, much like you were.

He’s silent, swirling his glass.

“Really?”

“Yes.” You feel defensive, even when you shouldn’t be. His tone was cool. Yours wasn’t. “It—it’s her home. She should see it.”

“Wasn’t she born here?” Satoru questioned. “Wouldn’t Japan be her home, then?”

You deflate.

“You’re right.” You admit. “Japan is her home, but it isn’t mine.”

You miss home. You miss the village. You’d do anything to go back to the good old times. You’d do anything to be away from this pain.

Japan was empty. Your in-laws barely tolerate you. No friends. No job. The only good memories you had were buried in a tomb, and even those rotted away by lies and deceit.

“I think you should stay,” Satoru says, voice soft.

“Why?” You ask. “I have nothing here.”

“You could.”

You look up. In the dim lights of the bar, he’s breathtaking. Everything you weren’t.

And that everything closes the distance between you and him.

It’s soft. Barely a kiss. His lips are soft; you can smell his shampoo. It lasts for a moment before you’re breaking it. You shy away, staring at the floor beneath you. Your shoes. You can hear your heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Satoru follows your mouth. This time, it’s bolder. You can feel his warmth, pressed against your frigid soul. He’s melting you down to bone. There’s a hand on your back, keeping you in place. Fireworks spark at the touch.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone like this. Not since...

And then you remember who you’re with, what you’re doing. The ring sits heavy on your finger.

You push away. Satoru falters, and you use that opportunity to stumble to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I—I’m—”

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Instead, you turn and flee out the bar. Into the cold frigid night.

You’re drunk. You can feel it in your fingertips, the way your vision gets the slightest bit dizzy when you move too fast. You cling against a random lightpost, checking your phone.

Your place wasn’t that far away. You could walk, right? But it would be safer to call a cab. Better yet, call Kiyo. Call your neighbor. Call anyone?

Oh, you just remembered that you have no one here.

Satoru finds you when you’re already crying. You can feel him on your shoulder before he even says anything.

“Hey,” he says, reaching for you, “c’mon. Let’s get out of the street—”

“Why?” You whirl onto him, so fast that even he’s surprised. “Why are you doing any of this? Reina, me, why do you care so much?”

You’re still crying, but you can feel your tears slow down the tiniest bit. You weren’t breathing. You don’t think he was either.

Satoru opens his mouth. Closes. Opens again. His smile is gone. You can see the imprint of your lipstick on his perfect pout.

“I love you.”

It feels like he just slapped you. A knife in your belly, tearing you apart. Nausea builds in your throat, threatening to spill all over the road. You can’t look at him anymore, it hurts too much. Betrayal. You’re betraying your husband. Your dead cheater husband.

“Stop.” You beg him anyway, “Don’t say that. Never say that, I can’t think–”

“—Then don’t think.” He insists, sweet, saturated. “Don’t think about any of this.”

He kisses you again, and your mind blanks. You let him this time, and you feel yourself break over it.

This time, Satoru’s the one who breaks it, resting his forehead on yours. You still must look confused. He laughs adoringly.

“C’mon this can’t be too out of left field, right?” He asked. “I mean, I made it pretty obvious.”

He had. You were too preoccupied in your own misery to notice. Offers to drive you to the grocery store. Volunteering to take care of another man’s baby. Satoru has always been direct.

You avoid his gaze, but there’s no where to go.

“Satoru,” you hesitate. “I—I don’t feel that way.”

“I know.” He concedes, trailing his lips down your cheek. You don’t stop him.

“But you need this.” He kisses your neck. “I know you do. You’re so stressed all the time, hm? You need me. Use me. However, you want to.”

Use him. You’ve always used him. What difference would this make?

You still had a chance to stop this. There were so many reasons to stop. You were a recent widow. A single mother. He was so much younger than you—

You kiss him again to stop thinking.

You don’t know what time you stumble through your door.

Satoru hasn’t stopped touching you in the cab, walking up to your patio. If you were sober, you might have been a bit more hysterical about it, now you just wanted him never to stop.

He’s pushing you against the door, slamming it shut with your body weight. You can barely get the words out past his plush lips.

“Bedroom.” You insist.

He pulls away with a laugh. “’course, Babe.”

You’re not sure how to feel about that petname, but you don’t get a moment to complain. He’s effortlessly picking you up, and you settle on the cool comforters moments later.

Your dress is halfway up your thighs. He spares no time, reaching for the back and finding the zipper. It falls apart in his fingers. He peels the fabric off of you with a delighted sigh.

“Fuck, look at you,” he’s saying to the newly uncovered skin. “so so pretty.”

Not used to the attention, you shy away. He doesn’t let you, taking you by the chin so he can kiss you again.

He’s so different now. You feel like you’re seeing a side of him you aren’t supposed to. Long white lashes, pretty blue eyes that are drenched in want and lust. His breathing was elevated. He was excited.

It scares you.

“I...I haven’t done this in a while.” You admit when you pull back. You give him a glance, before resigning yourself to pull away the rest of the dress and dropping it to the floor. “So...Please be nice?”

You sound like a child, unsure and nervous. You hate that you can’t keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Yes, yes.” He’s nodding, staring at you like a drooling dog. “I’ll be so so nice, baby. The nicest. Just lemme’ touch you. Please, please, pretty please?”

You give a tiny nod, and he’s pouncing on you.

He’s insatiable, you don’t think he’d ever get enough. He’s pawing at your bra before it comes off completely beneath his touch. Your panties are gone too, and then you’re entirely bare beneath him.

He doesn't forget about himself, neither do you. Between his ravenous kisses, you manage to take off his jacket. Satoru helps you with his shirt, pulling it off him, showing his toned abs and pale skin. Not a single mark or blemish. He’s absolute perfection.

He must notice your hesitant fingers at his shoulders because he stops sucking on your neck with a distinct pop, still playing with your tits, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“Touch me,” he says, “I want you to touch me.”

You feel awkward pulling your fingers down to his chest, his stomach. His skin is soft, warm. Your hands are frigid. He shivers when you graze over his abs. His skin is so pale, almost translucent. If you were to pinch him, bite him, the color would show oh so nicely.

When you pull away, he whines, nearly falling over.

“Don’t fucking tease me like that.” The way he says it is so needy. You laugh, gaining the courage to play with his hair.

He gets the control back eventually, pushing you back down so he can devour you properly.

His face is between your legs before you can comprehend it. He’s spreading you open so he can see your pussy. You’re already creaming for him. Your pussy juice is spread across your lips, making your skin glisten and shine. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t worse, drooling like a fucking dog before his mouth meets your cunt in a frenzied kiss.

He gives this high-pitched moan that sends a thrill up your spine the more he makes out with your clit, licking and sucking.

“Oh.” You sink against the pillows. “Satoru—Satoru-!—”

“Fuck yes—” his voice is muffled but he doesn’t stop. “You taste so good, baby. like—like fuckin’ heaven—”

You almost double over when his teeth graze your clit. Your hand reaches out immediately to grab and his hair and pull.

It does nothing. He just whines, and when he digs deeper into your pussy, you realize he likes it when you hurt him.

You pull harder and his finger presses its way into your wet hole and just the right angle to make you see stars.

“Fuck baby, ‘can barely fit my fingers.” It would sound like a complaint if he didn’t sound so far gone already. “How are we gonna fit my cock into this pussy, hm?”

He talks too much. When you shove his face deeper into your folds, it seems to shut him up and he’s back to worshipping your dripping cunt.

He’s too good. It’s all so good. You’re squeezing his head between your thighs, sure you’re suffocating him but he doesn’t seem to care. The noise is downright scandalous but you’re too far gone to give a shit about that.

It felt so good to stop thinking.

“Close.” You gasp when you hit that plateau. “I’m close. I’m—”

“Gonna cum?” he asks from underneath you, and it only seems to spur him on. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl. Cum baby. Just let go. I gotcha’ just please please please—”

It hits and you arch your back, letting your orgasm rush past your body. It fizzes up your spine, right to your tits before you sag back to Earth. Satoru is more that happy to work you through your high before your thighs fall apart against him and he’s detaching himself from your clit with one last part kiss.

Satoru kisses you, famished. You can barely kiss back, following his lips with your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s a tangy sweetness, warmed from his spit.

“Was I nice?” Satoru asks.

You nod. He smiles.

He pulls back, sitting on his knees. You watch as he fiddles with his boxers, before pulling out his pulsing cock.

It’s not all that thick, but it’s the length that makes you shift, just the tiniest bit. He’s on the larger end. His cock looks puffy and dripping in a way that almost looks painful. He pumps himself a few times, and then you’re reaching out.

Satoru stops, watching as you rise from your earlier position, hand on his cock. Your hand is so much smaller than his, you can barely wrap your fingers around his base. He shivers at the touch, and by the time you’re fisting his cock he faltars, head falling into the crook of your neck.

“Too much?” You ask when he gasps.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No no. Keep going. Please don’t stop.”

That same whine again. Helpless and needy. When you squeeze him, he jolts.

And then you stop. You’re sure he’s about to complain but then you’re lowering yourself, keeping your eyes on him, and you give his cock a tentative lick.

You hadn’t done this in a while, and you weren’t all that sure if you could swallow all of him, but you try your best. You swirl your tongue around his tip, watching as he twitches. His cock jumps in your mouth and you have to hold his base to keep him still for you. He’s so sensitive. Every touch you give him seems to just make him even needier.

He rocks his cock into your mouth. You let him, watching as he babbles on and on.

“So so fucking good, baby.” He’s moaning, head flung back, like it’d be too much to keep looking at you. “Right—right there. Fuck fuck fuck.”

He cums fast, and it’s sudden. He’s barely holding his breath before he’s shuddering and he’s filling your entire mouth. There’s so much of it, you can’t possibly swallow it all. You mouth off his cock with a pop, pumping him until he starts twitching out of overstimulation.

Satoru is panting, still basking in that afterglow as you kiss him. He doesn’t seem too embarrassed about how quick he lasted. Then again, you don’t think he has the brainpower to feel anything right now other than pure lust. Pussydrunk, your brain gives.

You reach up, wiping away the tears collected in the corner of his eyes. A part of you wants to leave it there. He looks good like this. Pretty as an angel.

And then you look down and you see his cock has not gone down at all.

“Oh,” you murmur, “I see you’re healthy.”

“Mmh,” he says back, not exactly words but you’re not looking for a conversation right now.

Your pussy is throbbing. She wants more attention. You’re settling back into your original position as you watch Satoru rifle through his forgotten pants. He pulls out a familiar wrapper. You have to roll your eyes at his preparedness.

“You’re a bit too ready for this.” You note.

“Can you blame me?” He honestly asks. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

The casual admission makes you glance away. He laughs at your sudden shyness and you have to wonder how you didn’t see him before.

“Ready, baby?” He asks. This feels familiar, somehow.

He gives his cock two cursory pumps, and then he’s pushing himself into you.

It’s so much all at once. As wet as you were, his cock bullies his way into you with a fierce stretch. It’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut. Grin and bear it.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He curses. “How the hell did you fit a baby through here?” You can’t bring yourself to respond to his usual snark, so you claw at his back, raking your nails through his skin. He hisses and the pain seems to distract him into temporarily shutting up.

By the time, he sits his dick in your pussy, you’re close to breaking. You were right, he was way too big. Bigger than the one person you’ve always been with, so you’re not sure if you have a good gauge on size. Still, your brain short-circuits, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Mind-numb.

He’s impatient this time, not giving you a chance to adjust before he’s clumsily pulling back out only to ram himself back in. You lurch, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself from his sudden pace.

“Satoru—!” You gasp. “It’s—!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing, but you’re not quite sure how much he actually means it. “I’ve—I’ve just waited so—ah—long and now you’re here and it’s so—”

If it’s even possible, he gets even faster, pushes his cock even deeper into your battered pussy. The squelching of your hole and his whines into your ear make it so much more erotic than it needs to be. You give into your desire, reaching over to sink your teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. The masochist in him purrs in delight.

You notice it first. That familiar soreness in your tits. When you glance down, your nipple is leaking that familiar milky fluid.

Satoru notices too. He stops, sinking his dick entirely into you. You’ve never felt fuller.

“Oh.” You feel heat creep up your neck. You hadn’t fed Reina today, this was bound to happen. “I—I’m sorry. I—I should’ve—”

You expect him to pull out of you awkwardly. Maybe even be disgusted.

Instead, he groans.

“I’m getting dessert now, too?”

“What?”

As your answer, he leans down and latches onto your tit.

He’s messy, smearing milk all over your skin and the other breast. After a while, he picks up his pace again, resuming his pussyfucking. You’re sure the angle must be painful, him bent over you like this, but he makes no complaint. And you could care less about his discomfort right about now.

He alternates between your breasts like he can’t decide which one tastes better. It shouldn’t feel this good, watching him suckle on your tits but you can feel yourself get even tighter. He can feel it, too.

Satoru’s rambling now. You can barely keep up with his incoherent mess.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re close, arentcha’?” he’s slurring his words, spitting them out one after another. “C’mon baby, you wanna cum? Cum, then? Milk my cock, pretty baby. Just like last time.” You should be paying more attention to his words. You don't.

Everything feels like deja vu. You should be paying attention to your own words too. You don’t.

“Mhn.” You moan. “Close. Sato, I’m close. Real real close—”

Your eyes widen. So does his.

You think you just ruined everything.

And then he starts jackhammering himself into you.

“Say it again.” He demands, driving his cock deep into your cunt.

You shake your head, despite your refusal you can’t help but— “Sato, oh God. Please Sato—Don’t—”

“Again, say it again.” His fingers descend to your clit, messily rubbing tiny circles. “Don’t stop saying my name until you’ve cum.”

You obey. Sato, Sato, Sato, Sa—and then you’re tipping over the edge. He fucks you through it, keeping you on that high until he’s shuddering too.

“Fuck baby, I missed you.” He’s whispering in your ear. “I missed you so much.”

You sigh when he kisses you, still coming down to Earth. The kiss his soft, just filled with want, instead of that carnal desire. He pulls away, and just when you’re debating to let him stay the night, he’s pulling out new rubber.

“Another one?” You ask, the dots not quite connecting yet.

“Oh, c’mon.” He grins down at you. “You didn’t think we’d go for just one round, did ya?”

You’re finally back in his arms.

Satoru dreamed of this day. He’s dreamt of this for months, ever since he had to leave you with that scumbag. Now that you’re sleeping peacefully in his arms again, everything is finally right in his world.

He shifts, wanting to bring you closer to his chest, but he winces. Fuck, you really did a number on him. He didn’t know you were into biting. And he can feel the pleasant sting of your nails on his back. He’d need to be careful with his RCT for a while. He wants these marks to last for as long as possible.

And when they fade, he’s sure he won’t have to convince you too much to make more for him.

“Give...them...back.”

Oh right. He’d almost forgotten about that other tiny problem he had.

He turns to the curse. “So, enjoy the show?”

Satoshi is unrecognizable. Malformed, demented. No more eyes, tall enough to reach the ceiling. To a being like Satoru, he was still nothing.

To a non-shaman and an infant, a grade 2 curse was quite the hassle. No wonder your so exhausted these days. Your husband was cursing you.

“Give them back.” The curse rasps. “Give them both back.”

Satoru’s silent, as if he’s really thinking about it.

“Nah, I’m good.” He grins. “This one’s mine now. And about Reina...what do you think suits me best: Dada or Daddy?”

The curse roars. It’s loud enough to shake the walls. Satoru tsks.

“Careful there. You might wake the missus.” He points out.

“Mine...” Satoshi insists. “They were....mine.”

“Were.” Satoru enunciates. “And now, they’re all mine! Sorry about the change in management. Don’t worry, though. I’ll take great care of both of ‘em.”

Always wanting to have the last word, Satoru reaches over and plucks your wedding ring off your limp finger.

“So, that’s where you got attached.” He muses at the metal. “Can’t believe you’re pathetic enough to curse your own wife. Is this 'cause you're still mad about the execution?" He asks, twirling the ring in his palm. "That happened months ago, man, get over it."

A snap of his fingers. Satoshi is gone. The room gets less stuffier. You relax in your sleep, and Satoru is caressing your arm, still studying the ring. It’s cheap. Plated gold with a less valuable metal as the base.

Pathetic. He tosses it carelessly.

A few months later, Satoru proposes with a proper engagement ring.

You say yes.

#yandere #yandere jjk #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen smut

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mommypieck · 1 year ago

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⌗︙・meeting fuckboy gojo at a frat party ⸜⸜・

gojo is a fuckboy and he knows it about himself. so when you show up to his party, he's all over you.

"are you new?" he asks you, his hard on already digging into your back. you've heard those rumors about satoru gojo but you never thought he would be that quick to find a new meat - you.

"yeah, fuck off." you say, shoving him away so that you can pour yourself a drink. gojo is not having any of it.

"why don't you wanna have some fun with me?" his hand strokes your shoulder and you can feel his breath on your neck.

"i am not looking for a hook up. im trying to get to know people." you explain to him and you can basically see the wheels in his brain turning.

"alright... we can get to know each other first."

"gojo, too rough." you moan, grabbing his hand that's around your neck. he just chuckles, angling his thrusts so he can touch your g spot with every thrust. you trash under him on the bed, the pleasure and overstimulating are both so addicting. and satoru knows it, that's why he gives you more and more.

he's not even done with you and your pussy already hurts because of how big he is. he is a known fuckboy, of course he's gonna be huge.

"you gonna cum for me, huh?" he smirks at you, one hand pinching your nipple. he knows you like it and that's why he does it again. you cum on his cock as gojo pinches your tits. maybe you're a masochist after all.

"im gonna cum inside of that pussy. i hope you're on a birth control." within few thrusts, he's cumming inside of your pussy, filling you up nicely. you feel guilt that you let him cum inside, at least you are on a birth control.

"do you do this with every girl? ask them if they're on birth control when you're about to cum?" you ask him, irritation clear in your voice. he laughs at your comment, "they all want me so they get on birth control just from me."

you roll your eyes at him, "i do not want you."

"oh, you will, don't worry. once i get to know your pussy more."

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

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rezitio · 1 year ago

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━━━━━━ . .⃗ . Twitter LINKS . . satoru gojo. nsfw

a/n: this one's been here a while

warning: a whole lot man.

characters: Gojo Satoru.

━━━━━ Before gojo left for a mission four days ago. He selfishly denied you orgasm multiple times. He came home exhausted but you still want the orgasm you deserved. Gojo is too exhausted to tease you so just lets you ride him till you're satisfied.

Gojo is on a mission right now so you thought it would be funny to send him videos.

Sent an attachment

Nothing too crazy, you even forgot about it. But that was your first and last after what he did to you

Gojo is a brat. If he wants something he's going to get it. It doesn't matter if you just woke up. His hands holding onto your waist to stabilise you, while pounding into you. You know he's the strongest but sometimes you wonder where he gets his stamina from

alternative

Gojo loves when you wear skirts around the house but you don't do it very although you tell him you love wearing skirts. This makes Satoru confused but he remembers why you don't wear skirts around him much. He loses control seeing those exposed thighs and the way the skirt syncs with the movement of your ass. Gosh, here we go again

Something you need to know when intimate with Satoru is that you are never really in control. Sure, sometimes he allows you to take the lead and be the dominant one because the masochist is feeling submissive today. But you need to remember that he can flip the tables anytime, happens when he felt you were a little too cocky. He's a brat himself but he's also a brat tamer.

"Don't tell me you thought you could fuck yourself with my permission and get away with it." He keeps fingering you despite your pleas for forgiveness and tugging his hand away. But you know this is only the beginning

Netflix and chill can never just be 'chill' with Gojo. He always wants to wander around your body. He can't sit still.

Gojo caught you playing with yourself without permission so he continued for you. "You wanted to feel good with your fingers right? Come on open, I'm just helping you." He mocks you as he abuses your stimulated clit

You know how hard he works, that why you tried to please him by giving him a blow job. Your first blow job, all for him? And you made he so sensitive too. He needed to repay you, eventually getting high on your pussy. headcanon

Imagine Gojo feels after his junior, taunts him flaunting her ass around campus when he's around. Always intentionally teasing him. You were just leaving the library when the strongest came to 'help you study'

"Please... at least let me finish the food- ngh~" Gojo never listens. "Please baby, I need you right now. He whispers into your ear as he's pounding harshly into you

Well, what did you expect? Walking into Gojo's temple in that. Praying to your God with your ass up, tight and short skirt barely containing all that ass. You got your prayer, if it's a kid you need it's a kid you shall get.

Sucking your boyfriend off while he plays his games. You don't need his full attention to give him a blowjob

Finished : 4/05/24

#gojo links #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk links #jjk twitter #twitter links #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #꒰꒰ : REZITIOWORKS

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aishi-toru · 5 months ago

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YOU'RE MY WISHLIST! ♡

⟡ synopsis ─ gojo satoru's the man who seems to be everywhere you go, whether it be within the comfort of your own home or miles away from the place. well, guess what happens when you show up looking a little too fine at your college's annual christmas eve party?

꣑ৎ content ─ MDNI, brother'sbsf!satoru / collegesenior!satoru x afab!reader, reader is suguru's younger sister, no use of y/n, reader can't escape him, suggestive content, reader is in love w/ gojo (and vice versa), intentional use of lowercase, usage of pet names e.g baby, pretty, good girl, etc., smut in the form of fingering, and probably more idk

◖word count — 2.6k

☆ credits ─ live laugh love @anitalenia 4 the gorgeous divider <3 no specific inspiration for this fic, just felt like writing one fueled by my christmas spirit (i have never celebrated christmas in my life, so if u caught me lacking, no u didn't!)

꩜ author's note ─ first fic ever & ofc it's ft. my man !! i'm not v satisfied with this work and it was really rushed towards the end, so feedback is much appreciated :3 merry xmas to all those celebrating and happy holidays ♡ title's from "a nonsense christmas" by sabrina carpenter :3

when you left home for college, you were certain you’d outrun the real-life horrors of your past— your parents' scoldings, the shitty food served at your school's cafeteria, the fake people you were surrounded by, and most importantly, your brother's best friend, gojo satoru, who just seemed to get finer with every single passing day.

the man was, for some reason, genetically white-haired all over. yeah, he had albinism, but god, the sight of him was no less than breath-taking. his sparkling, cerulean orbs, which glowed mesmerizingly both under the moonlight and the sun, seemed more and more enchanting with each passing moment. as the years went by with him by your brother's side, you told yourself to look away, refusing to acknowledge the feelings that flickered inside whenever you saw him. you did whatever you could to let go of them— tried to distract yourself with the shittiest of boyfriends, avoided him at school, locked yourself up in your room whenever he came over to hang out with your brother, you name it.

however, it seemed that luck hated, no, despised your embrace no matter how much you yearned for it, considering how the menace was always hovering around, inserting himself into your life at the most inconvenient moments. you're rehearsing for a school play in an empty classroom? the next thing you know, he has an arm propped around your shoulder and smiling at you in the most stupidly handsome way ever with a lollipop in his mouth as he asks you to just... practice with him around. oh, you're trying to get him off of you now? he'll steal your script before you can escape him and raise his hand up as high in the air as possible so you can't reach it. "hey, give it back!" you exclaim, only to be met by a smug smirk on his face and the most annoying "nuh-uh." he completely refuses unless you promise to not kick him out until the practice session is over.

you're walking back home with your brother, suguru? oops, gojo is there too! he's ruffling your hair no matter how pissed you get and yell at him; he only finds joy and pleasure in seeing you in this enraged state. whether he was a sadist, masochist, or simply insane, you did not know.

so, starting college felt like stepping into freedom. no more conversations centered around satoru, no more being so pissed you lose your voice from screaming, and no more late-night sob sessions everytime he got a new girlfriend.

however, it seemed that you'd forgotten that the stars didn't quite align for you, and the universe had decided to remind you of that very fact by ensuring that satoru received enough distinctions to be able to transfer universities. oh, and of course, the one he'd chosen just had to be the one you'd decided to spend the next 4 years of your life in. it wasn't until after you’d moved into your dorm and started your classes that you found out.

the first time you saw him around campus, you were freaked the fuck out. nevertheless, you simply assumed he was visiting a friend or relative and dismissed the sight.

however, much to your dismay, you discovered that he was, in fact, a senior at your college—a 2nd year, to be exact. it wouldn't be an understatement to assume you nearly had a heart attack when you found out, considering how this was the same guy who used to have a 2.6 gpa back in high school. when did he even start taking his studies seriously and lock in hard enough to meet the criteria and eligibility for your university, one of the most prestigious in the entire country? instead of rooting for you, fate just had to be your biggest hater.

every single time you saw him around, gojo would come up to you to exchange greetings and obviously, tease you about the most embarrassing things from your past while his obnoxious fangirls stared you the fuck down, wondering why he's so close to you even though you're just a freshman who should have nothing to do with him.

what surprised you more, however, was that you sometimes shared the same sentiment as them because you were definitely never this close with satoru. not in all the years your brother used to hang out with him, or all the times you'd seen each other on family dinners. sure, he'd teased you plenty, but he had no real concern or curiosity towards you. you found him walking you to classes, treating you to coffee and meals, buying you all the snacks you could ever need during exam preparations and so much more that you could never even list down.

and worst of all, the feelings you'd so desperately pushed away in the past had now creeped their way back into your heart and embedded every inch of your soul even deeper.

it struck you then—satoru’s actions might not be out of pure obligation. that would’ve been far too simple, too detached for someone like satoru. maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it, something unspoken lingering beneath it all. you couldn’t say for sure if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it felt personal, like you mattered in a way that went beyond the promises he'd made to your elder brother and family.

but still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just in your head. satoru’s actions, the way he treated you—it didn’t necessarily mean what you thought it did. it could be nothing—satoru’s actions didn’t have to mean anything. maybe you were just fooling yourself, letting your feelings cloud your judgment. so, you buried them as deep as you could, pushing them aside, telling yourself that letting go was the only way to protect yourself from the uncertainty. it was easier to convince yourself that you were just being delusional instead of facing what could be very real.

although, you do seriously question your latter supposition at your annual college christmas eve party when satoru, dressed in the sexiest 3-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with a black tie, has you pinned against the door of the nearest bathroom. if haven't had the opportunity to pay enough attention to his luminous, cerulean eyes up until now, you do at this very moment when he's staring at you like a predator would at it's prey.

"satoru," you let out a breath you weren't aware of holding, "what are you doing?" gojo, whose gaze had shifted down to your lips, let out a chuckle. "oh, so it's satoru now," he murmured, his hand pushing your hair behind your ear. "fine, 'toru..," you pronounce, going back to the nickname you'd started calling him during the while you'd spent with him. "that's more like it." his eyes meet yours again, conveying the desire and thirst that stirred within him— for how long, nobody knows.

the air around you two was thicker than usual, laced with tension as well as something… else. "you still haven't answered my question." upon your words, the white-haired man's face broke out into a cupid-induced smile, the most beautiful you'd ever seen. "well," his right thumb traced the outline of your lips so light as if you'd break from further pressure, "i thought you looked beautiful." what he says renders you speechless, your throat gone dry and your cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose (in his eyes, at least.) "you always do, but even more so today." and if you weren't already a flustered mess, you would most certainly be now.

your reaction only draws a smirk on his face, and he decides to tease you a little more. "so, on that note, what do you think i'm doing?," his voice lowers as his hand traces its way down to your neck. "i... uh- i don't know... you tell me." satoru grins, only wanting to push you further.

"yeah? how about i show you instead?" and a mere instant later, his lips come crashing down on yours— you couldn't say you hadn't been expecting or anticipating it, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the way his warm and impossibly soft lips felt against yours. initially, you froze, and you came to realise that all the possibilities you'd once ignored were now very much real.

it wasn't a bad thing— no, nowhere near it, maybe even one of the best that could ever happen to you. however, it did feel like too much of a development to be able to process in a matter of seconds.

upon the realisation that you hadn't responded to his advances, satoru pulled back from the kiss, seeming rather puzzled. "was i wrong?" he inquires, voice lower and deeper than it normally would be.

the melodic sound of his voice is what breaks your trance and serves as your call back to reality. you wanted to say no, reach for his collar, get on your tip-toes and lean in to kiss him, but you were stuck in place. you couldn't find your voice or your words, and it felt like your heels were superglued to the tiles of the bathroom floor.

if it hadn't already been obvious, you'd been yearning for this moment for god knows how long, and now that it was handed to you on a sliver platter, you couldn't simply pass up on it. being well aware of the fact that this encounter could change your and satoru's relationship for either the better or the worse, you took a deep breath, cupped the sides of his face, and tilted your head just enough to be able to kiss the man. your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, if that was possible.

being the way he is, satoru smiled into the kiss and lowered his hands to your hips. he could tell you were pouring each and every emotion from both the past and the present, and of course, he was doing the same.

it was inevitable, really— now that you could feel his skin against yours, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together and figure out that this was all bound to happen, already having been inked into the wondrous book of fate.

and so, for the first time in all the years you'd spent alongside satoru, you could say that the universe was, in fact, rooting for you. the way gojo's lips moved against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world when he pulled away, the way the both of you heavily panted but still chased each other's warmth again barely seconds later, are more than enough confirmation.

"no, you weren't," you reply, feeling giddier than you ever had. "i wasn't what?" his hands caress your cheek with a carefulness that was almost unlike him, and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest (in the best way possible.) "you weren't wrong."

"and i'm still not wrong if i do this?" his large hand reached under your clothes and wandered up to your waist, resting over the skin of the region. "or this?" his mouth had reached your neck, leaving kisses-turned-bites all over, which were sure to transform into hickeys.

"no... no, you're not," you let out breathlessly, unable to escape the fire coursing through your veins at the slightest touch. you wanted more, so much more, and satoru was the only one who could fulfil your needs— not that you would have it any other way.

"you sure, pretty?" the corner of his mouth went up, resulting in a lopsided grin— he was obviously teasing you, that was just the way he was and always had been.

"uh-huh," you nod to reaffirm your statement. "good girl," he breathes out, only contributing to the echoes in the parts of your body which ached for him so badly.

his long fingers played and toyed with the hem of your dress, as if to test the waters. when you didn't resist, his hand sneaked up your thigh, gently fondling the skin.

despite the confidence in his actions, he observed every expression on your face cautiously, ensuring that nothing he did hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. when you show no signs on unease but instead only desire, he goes on to satisfy and soothe your needs.

his fingers traced their way up your inner thighs and lurked over the already soaked fabric of your underwear, bringing about a chuckle from satoru. "so needy for me already, hm?" he remarks, as if his own pants weren't tightening upon the observation.

"shut up, 'toru..." you're trying to regain your composure and keep up an attitude, but to no avail. the fact that he has you exactly where he wants you isn't helping, either. you're even trying to avoid his gaze, but the way you can feel his presence everywhere makes it impossible to do so— besides, he's making you face him again using his index finger and thumb to hold your chin in between, as he whispers out a "look at me, baby."

and when you do, you have to let out a gasp at the sight of him— his disheveled hair which was perfectly tamed at the start of the night, his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you like you're his entire world and his lips that are now slightly bruised and swollen from the kisses you've shared. it was beyond enough to get you all the more hot and bothered.

oh, but that's not the only factor contributing to the sounds you're making— it's also the way he's pulled your panties to the side and is currently tracing your slit ever so slowly. "want more, princess?" nearly mocking tone.

you hardly even manage to let out a hum before his slender fingers are running over the most sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from you. your eyes roll all the way back when one of his digits slides inside you just a moment later— you'd never been this sensitive, but it seems that was going to be entirely different with satoru.

he added one after the other, and now, three of his freakishly large fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly— he was so good with them, you could practically taste your orgasm about to wash over you.

"'m close, satoru," you whimper out almost pathetically, and his fingers are going even deeper now, hitting the spots you'd never even dreamt of reaching on your own. "yeah? is my princess gonna cum for me?" his voice is rough and he's groaning as if he's the one receiving the pleasure.

you can only nod as your arousal overwhelms you, white ropes of cum spurting out from your throbbing hole with one final thrust of his fingers. his entire hand was covered in your fluids, which he brought up to his mouth to be able to savor the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. god, he was an obsessed freak when it came to you.

"ew, satoru! why would you do that?" you hold back a giggle, expressing faux disgust at his actions. he only kisses you in response instead of using his words, making sure you get to taste what he'd drawn out of you as well.

"you think suguru's gonna be mad?" he asks, obviously amused at the idea of your brother enraged when he finds out what you and satoru have done. "oh yeah, definitely." he sweetly presses yet another kiss to your lips.

"if it's at the expense of me getting everything i wished for, i don't care, babe."

@cuntphoric :33

#ash of the brightest flame ever burnt —✶⌒(ゝ。∂)#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #cocoamide

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writesvani · 2 months ago

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coming down | 06

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to-enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): drug use, substance abuse, addiction, toxic relationships, betrayal, manipulation, self-sabotage, emotional abuse, mental health struggles, emotional distress, anger, guilt, anxiety, depression, past trauma, self-harm, family issues, parental conflict, feeling unloved, verbal abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, power dynamics, control, emotional tension, abandonment, toxic behavior, emotional neglect

comment HERE for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M.LIST

— previous chapter | next chapter

wc: 5,3k // date: 24th of March 2025

CHAPTER FIVE - The Knowing; proceed with caution...

AN: alright, listen up, you emotionally masochistic babies—this chapter is not for the weak. i am begging you to have a sip of water, take a deep breath, maybe even say a little prayer before diving in because this one? this one HURTS. like, "question your entire existence" levels of hurt.

also, my note goal is 150 notes. next chapter drops the second we hit that. i’m still testing the waters with Coming Down, and i need to know—who’s really reading? who actually gets it? because trust me, i’m watching. and if you’re just skimming through this like some casual sunday read, shame on you. pay attention. every word, every pause, every breath MATTERS. let’s see who’s actually built for this.

— love, vani

Ren’s gentle snores fill the apartment, each rise and fall of his breath stretching through the quiet like a slow, steady metronome. It should be comforting. Should make you feel grounded. Instead, it only amplifies the silence pressing in around you.

You’re too aware of your own breathing—shallow, uneven. Too aware of the fact that you are not alone.

Satoru is still here.

You can feel him without even looking. His presence snakes through the room, thick and suffocating, curling around you like an invisible thread pulling tighter and tighter. He doesn’t have to say a word. Doesn’t have to move. He’s just there, heavy in the air, refusing to be ignored.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, restless. Your toes curl against the floor, seeking some kind of grounding, but there’s none to be found.

You stare at the walls. At the scuffed wooden floor. At the way the dim glow of city lights filters through the window, casting faint, shifting shadows. You let your gaze drift anywhere, anywhere but toward the one thing that has been taking up too much space in your mind for far too long.

But Satoru Gojo is like a gravitational pull, and no matter how much you fight it—

You know you’ll lose.

You glance towards Ren a few times, watching the way his body rises and falls in deep, drunken sleep. As soon as Gojo and you brought him back to the apartment, he collapsed face-first onto the couch and never moved. No shower, no change of clothes—just out cold, occasionally mumbling something incoherent.

He shifts a lot in his sleep. Arms twitching, legs stretching, body curling in on itself before sprawling out again. You sit next to him—or more accurately, at his feet—your body stiff despite the softness of the cushions beneath you. The television flickers in front of you, playing something you can’t focus on, something your heart refuses to catch up with.

Not when he is sitting right there.

Gojo Satoru, draped over a chair far too small for him, legs stretched out, ankles crossed, completely at ease like he owns the room. Like he always does. The dim glow of the TV casts shadows across his face, his features sharp, unreadable. His long fingers tap idly against his knee. His muscles flex beneath the fabric of his jeans, taunting, teasing—inviting.

You don’t dare look at his face, but you don’t have to. You can already picture the way his lips are curled into that infuriating half-smirk, half-smile, like he knows something you don’t. Like he always does.

And his eyes.

You can feel them.

Bright and sharp, gleaming under the dim light, locked onto you with an intensity that sets your skin ablaze.

You can feel him watching you. It's almost suffocating, the weight of his gaze pressing into your skin, a constant reminder that he’s there—still here, when you thought he’d be long gone. He didn’t leave after helping you settle Ren. No explanation, no words, just that eerie quiet between the two of you.

By the time you’d pulled off your shoes and hung your jacket, he had already taken off both his and Ren’s, draped Ren across the couch like a lifeless doll, and then he sat down in that small wooden chair. Not a word. Not a movement. Just… sitting there.

Like a ghost.

And it’s been 28 minutes. Not that you’ve been counting. But in the heavy silence, it’s impossible not to. 28 minutes of not speaking, of not acknowledging the tension that swirls thick between you both. You’ve never been good at this—the silence, the waiting, the not saying what’s actually on your mind. But Gojo? He thrives in it. He always has.

Your teeth graze the flesh of your cheek, the dull ache of tension spreading from your jaw as you focus on the task at hand. Your breath is shallow, coming in quick bursts as you pull out the weed you saved for the moment you’d get home. Your fingers move with practiced ease—weed. Tobacco. Mix. Paper. Roll. You’ve done this a thousand times, and each motion is second nature, a rhythm you’ve come to rely on.

The joint finds its way to your lips easily, the flame from the lighter catching on the tip before you inhale deeply. Smoke curls in the air around you like an old friend, familiar and comforting, and for a moment, you lean into it. It helps clear the haze in your mind, but it doesn’t stop the pounding in your chest when your eyes accidentally lock with his.

And god, it’s insanity.

His gaze feels like a slow burn, digging through you with a force that makes your insides clench. It’s maddening. Even worse is that he doesn’t need to say a word—because somehow, you already know everything he’s thinking about. The way his brow quirks up, just slightly, and the glint in his eyes—it's like he’s known you for more than a lifetime, reading you like an open book.

“You didn’t get enough earlier, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, and his eyes trail to the joint dangling from your fingers. The question lingers in the air between you, thick and heavy, and all you can do is refuse to reply. Because answering means acknowledging this moment, whatever it is. And you’re too drunk for that. Too overwhelmed.

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of a victory, not again. Not when everything inside you is already at the edge of something you’re not ready to face.

So you just hum, a half-hearted “Mhm,” slipping past your lips. It’s a simple sound, but it’s all you can offer, and it leaves you wondering if he knows exactly how much it means.

He leans back in Ren’s chair, the smug smile never leaving his face as he watches you. “Tsk,” he murmurs, a sound laced with amusement and something darker beneath. “You still have no self-control.”

Your eyes betray you—almost involuntarily, they roll, and you know, without a doubt, that he caught it. He beams, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

“You’re the one to say that,” you mutter, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

“What do you mean, I was always in control,” he quips back, and you feel your mouth dry up. It’s not because of Gojo or his teasing—it’s the effects of the weed starting to seep into your system, making everything feel a little too warm, a little too slow.

Gojo notices, of course he does. He always notices. You feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere, the way his gaze sharpens, and then—his arm darts out.

He snatches up a bottle of water that’s been sitting on Ren’s table for God knows how long. You watch, your eyes narrowing in on it, longing for the refreshing coolness of it. And just when you think he might, for once, be decent enough to hand it over, he does something entirely different.

He doesn’t just hand it to you.

Instead, his other hand moves with deliberate slowness, unscrewing the cap.

Your heart skips a beat as he brings the bottle to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. You blink a few times, trying to process what’s happening. He’s drinking the water you wanted—your water, the one you’ve been craving ever since you started feeling the pull of the green.

And to make matters worse, small specks of it drip down his chin, falling messily onto his shirt. The sight makes something inside you tighten, and you swear—you swear he lets out a low, almost indecipherable moan as he swallows it. Salivating, or maybe savoring the moment.

It’s cruel, the way he drags it out, the way he tortures you with something so simple. Because if Gojo Satoru loves anything—it’s making sure you never get what you want most. Not without some kind of twisted game attached to it.

You watch him, almost frozen, as he finishes drinking the last drop, wiping the excess off his chin with the back of his hand, all the while still staring at you. It’s a look that’s too knowing, too intimate, and it drives you mad. You shift in your seat, uncomfortable, your body still buzzing from the weed and the lingering effects of alcohol. It’s almost like your skin is too tight, everything feels too sharp, and your brain refuses to shut up, racing at full speed.

“Better?” Gojo asks casually, as if he hadn’t just stolen your drink and somehow made the whole thing feel like a punishment. His voice is teasing, but there's something else underneath it—a challenge, a dare. His grin spreads wider, but there's no humor in it, only a sharp edge.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words don’t come out right. It’s like your tongue is too thick, the thoughts in your head swirling and crashing together in a mess you can’t untangle. Instead, you let out a breathless laugh, more for yourself than for him, a laugh that rings out in the silence, hollow and unsure.

“You’re ridiculous,” you finally manage, the words almost strangling you as they leave your lips.

Gojo’s smirk deepens. “You know, I think you're the ridiculous one,” he says, voice smooth like silk, yet laced with something that makes your stomach twist. “You’ve always been so much better at pretending you don’t want it. But we both know the truth, don’t we?”

You shift uncomfortably again, eyes briefly flicking to Ren, still out cold on the couch. His snores are soft, rhythmic, but distant compared to the tension that now crackles in the air between you and Gojo.

“I don’t—” you start, but the words feel empty. What’s the point? He knows. He always knows.

Gojo doesn’t let you finish. “You do,” he interrupts, his voice dropping lower, almost like a whisper. "And that's what makes this so much more fun."

His gaze is almost too intense, like he's peeling you apart with his eyes, like he's watching for every subtle movement, every flinch. It makes your skin prickle and your chest tighten. You want to look away, but you can’t. Not when he’s so close, when his presence fills every inch of space, a constant weight pressing down on you.

His eyes flicker to the joint still loosely held in your hand, the embers glowing faintly at the end. “You really think that’s going to make you feel better?” he asks, voice still too calm, too collected. “It’s pathetic, you know.”

You take a long drag from it, defiantly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your response. The smoke curls around you like a veil, and you breathe it in like it’s the only thing that can keep you grounded.

Gojo watches you closely, his gaze unrelenting. “You think it’s gonna fix things? You think it’s gonna make the truth go away?”

You exhale the smoke slowly, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach, trying to push everything back, push him back, because you know what’s coming. You’ve always known.

“I don’t need you to remind me,” you snap, voice sharper than you intended, but it’s all you have left to hold onto.

His smile only widens, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Well, you do need me, don’t you?” His voice turns soft, almost a purr, and for a brief moment, you feel like you're drowning in it.

You want to shout, to tell him to get the hell out of your head and you know better than to challenge him when you’re this far gone. But you can’t help yourself.

“I don’t get it, Satoru,” you shoot him a look, eyes narrowing slightly, letting the sarcasm drip off your tongue. Your words hang in the air, mocking, and you can't help but feel a small, bitter satisfaction when you see his expression shift. His lips twitch into that knowing smirk, the one that dares you to keep going.

“Seriously. Why are you still so obsessed with me?” You raise an eyebrow, silently giving yourself a mental high five for landing that one.

For a moment, he freezes, and you see something flash across his face—maybe surprise, maybe something darker—but it’s gone before you can pinpoint it. His fingers brush lightly against the fabric of his shirt, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself. Then, with a scoff, he leans back, like he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“Mhm,” he hums, the sound laced with amusement, “If I remember correctly, you were babbling about how you’d ‘totally give it to me’ to some random stranger just a few months ago. And now you’re acting like I’m the obsessed one?”

You let his words float between you for a second, watching as they settle in the thick, hazy air. Then, you smile, and it’s not the playful kind. It’s a smile that says you know something he doesn’t.

“So what?” you shrug, a puff of smoke escaping your lips, the haze curling around you like a comforting cloud. “I know you’re hot. And you do too.”

The smoke swirls around him, clinging to his form like it belongs to him, drifting lazily over his white hair. The dim light from the TV flickers over his face, casting shadows that make him look all the more dangerous. It makes your heart skip just a little, but you’ll never admit that.

“Not even gonna try to deny it?” He cocks his head, his voice low and teasing, arms crossed as he watches you with that infuriatingly smug grin.

Your gaze flickers to his, and for a second, you almost forget where you are. Almost. You force yourself to look away, your body tingling from the alcohol and the weed hitting harder than you’d expected. The heat between you two is suffocating, but it’s also thrilling.

“I never said I couldn’t stand your looks,” you snap, words coming out harsher than intended. The irritation that’s been building up in your chest is now spilling over. “I just can’t stand you.”

For a second, he doesn’t react. His gaze shifts briefly to Ren, who’s still passed out on the couch, unaware of the simmering tension in the room.

But Gojo’s eyes flick back to you, unreadable, and that infuriating smile doesn’t leave his lips. He’s unbothered.

“Plus,” you add, a little quieter but no less biting, “I did, unfortunately, sleep with you when I was younger.” You let the words sink in, your own bitterness mixing with the smoke filling the air. “And honestly? My roster’s full of tens—at least when it comes to looks.”

It’s a jab, a way to push him back, but you can’t help the knot of regret that settles in your stomach right after you say it. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, as Gojo’s eyes linger on you, waiting for your next move.

Gojo's expression doesn’t change at first, and for a moment, you think maybe you’ve finally thrown him off balance. But then, that damn smirk creeps back onto his face, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his posture casual but full of that unsettling confidence.

“Is that so?” His voice is low, teasing, with just the right amount of challenge. The words dance in the air between you, and you can feel the tension building again. It’s like you’re both playing a game, but neither of you is ready to admit what the stakes are.

You try to ignore the way his presence fills the room, how his proximity makes your heart beat faster and your mind wander to places you really don't want it to. You focus on the heated edge of the joint in your hand, the weight of it grounding you, but it doesn’t help.

“Sounds like you’ve got a thing for me after all, huh?” he continues, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watches you, the light from the TV casting soft shadows on his face. His voice is almost too smooth, too effortless, like he’s toying with you.

You try not to let him get to you. You try to hold your ground, but it’s hard when he knows exactly how to push your buttons. Your throat feels dry, and you suddenly realize you’ve been holding your breath.

“I don’t have a ‘thing’ for you,” you snap back, the words coming out more sharply than you meant. “I just... I know exactly what you are.”

Gojo leans back in his chair, crossing his arms again, his eyes never leaving you. "And what is that?" he asks, his tone mocking but somehow still carrying that quiet intensity that’s so frustratingly captivating.

You pause, your mouth dry, your brain racing to find the right words. The tension in the room is thick, like you could cut it with a blade. You take another drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily distracting you from his piercing gaze.

“You’re a…” you trail off, struggling to find the right word to capture what he is. Finally, it comes to you, simple and sharp. “A fixer.” You lean back, arms crossed, as if the words themselves might give you some distance.

Gojo lets out a small, almost amused chuckle. “A fixer? And what exactly does that mean?”

You glance at him, your eyes narrowing. “You want to fix people. You want to fix me.”

For a second, the room falls into a heavy, suffocating silence. His expression doesn’t change, but you can feel the weight of the moment. Then, without warning, Gojo bursts into laughter, loud and almost mocking.

You can’t help but look at Ren, a quick glance of concern—hoping the noise doesn’t stir him. If he wakes up, he’ll undoubtedly become a part of this madness, and you don’t want that. But Ren remains soundly asleep, lost to whatever dream world he’s in, leaving you trapped in this unsettling tension with Gojo.

The sound of Gojo’s laughter gnaws at you, each chuckle making your stomach sink. You feel a strange knot tightening inside you, something anxious, something unsettled. Gojo’s still here. Still laughing. Still taunting. And it’s all beginning to feel like a game you don’t want to play anymore.

“Oh babe, you still think that?” His voice drips with something almost playful, but there’s an edge to it. “I don’t want to fix you.” He leans forward, his eyes glinting. “I like watching you self-destruct. It’s… entertaining.”

The words land like a slap, but you refuse to let them hit you. You flick the remains of your joint into the ashtray, the sharp sound of it making the tension in your chest tighten. You look back at him, your eyes sharp with defiance.

“Doesn’t seem like it to me,” you mutter, your voice colder now. “Not when you’re still here, hanging around like some sort of unwanted critic, always pointing out what’s wrong with everything I do.”

Gojo shifts in his chair, smirking even wider, as if he’s enjoying this little verbal sparring match. “Oh, please.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. “I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to watch you fail. Over and over again. It’s kind of my favorite thing, you know?”

It hurts. His words slice through you, effortless and sharp, like a blade gliding against bare skin. Your pulse quickens, each beat echoing in your ears. The air between you feels charged—too thick with things unsaid, too heavy with things that should have been left buried.

“And just so we’re clear,” Gojo adds, his finger lazily tracing the curve of his cheek, voice as smooth as ever. “Back then, I wasn’t trying to fix you.” His words linger, curling around the room like smoke. “I was just trying to help you. And even if you won’t admit it—I actually did.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You can almost hear it screaming between you, clawing at the walls, pressing into your chest. You swallow hard.

“Really?” Your voice comes out quieter than intended, but there’s an edge to it, a wound left raw. “By betraying my trust?”

You shift in your seat, but it doesn’t ease the weight pressing down on you. His eyes gleam with something unreadable, something dangerous. It grips you, holds you still. Locks you in place.

And worst of all—doesn’t let you escape.

“I didn’t betray your ‘trust,’” he repeats, the word curling off his tongue like a taunt. His voice isn’t loud, but it vibrates through you, unsettling, seeping into your bones, coursing through your veins like venom.

“I got you the help you didn’t allow me to be,” he adds, each word measured, deliberate.

Your jaw tightens. Heat rises up your spine, coils around your ribs. “I didn’t need your help,” you bite back, the words sharp enough to cut. “Or anyone’s help. I was just a high school kid who wanted to have fun.”

Your lips press together so tightly it hurts, your teeth gritting against each other as if you could grind the frustration into dust. But Gojo—Gojo just watches, expression unreadable, like he’s already heard this a thousand times before. Like he already knows exactly how this conversation will end.

“Really?” His voice drips with sarcasm, taunting, as if he’s enjoying every second of this. “Then we clearly have different definitions of fun.” His gaze shifts away, drifting to the window, caught by the city lights outside. You watch him, a knot forming in your stomach, unsure whether he’s looking at the lights or at you. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s toying with you, pushing your buttons, teaching you some lesson only he understands.

Slowly, his head turns back toward you, his eyes meeting yours once more—steady, unwavering. “Because I always thought there’s more to life than hitting nose candy in high school.”

And there it is. The truth. Out in the open.

Your heart stops for a split second, the words stabbing into you like a sharp knife. The weight of them is too much to carry. Nausea creeps up your throat, thick and bitter. You didn’t want this—didn’t want him to finally say it. To drag it out of the dark where you buried it, where it never should have been acknowledged.

You swallow hard, but the words come out before you can stop them. “And your idea of helping me was telling my parents I was blowing rails?” Your voice is icy, bitter. “You made my life hell. They acted,” you scoff, your hands moving wildly through the air, “they acted like I was an addict or something.”

Gojo doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. “Well, you were.” His words are blunt, sharp, and they cut deeper than anything he’s ever said before.

“No, I wasn’t.” You can feel the tension building, thick and suffocating.

“You literally snorted every weekend. Don’t fool yourself.”

The words feel like acid. They burn, they scald. But you’re not done yet. You clench your fists, fighting back the surge of frustration. “No, I only did it once or twice a month, and y’all made such a big deal out of it.”

Gojo’s eyes narrow, an expression of disbelief crossing his face as if he can’t quite wrap his mind around your denial. He leans forward, a dangerous calmness settling over him. “Once or twice a month?” he repeats, his voice dropping, each word heavy with the weight of his judgment. “That’s still too much for someone who swore they didn’t have a problem.”

You flinch, the sting of his words settling deep in your chest. Your fingers grip the edge of the seat, but even the pressure isn’t enough to calm the storm inside you. You can feel the anger, the frustration, boiling just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Gojo,” you snap, your voice shaky but resolute. “You weren’t there. You never saw it like I did. You just... decided for me.”

A shadow passes over his face, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I did what I thought was right. You were spiraling.”

“You don’t know shit about it,” you hiss. The words spill out, more vicious than you intended, but they’re too far gone now.

He doesn’t back down, his gaze sharpening, his stance unyielding. “You were hurting. You needed help, and whether you admit it or not, I tried to give it to you. But you refused it at every turn. And then you kept running from everything.”

The room feels like it’s closing in, the air thick with every word that ghosts his lips, raw and unforgiving. Everything he says chips away at whatever wall you’ve been trying to build around yourself. The things you’ve convinced yourself were okay—the lies you’ve told yourself to get by—are unraveling in front of you, exposed and broken.

“Who do you think you are?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, bitter and harsh. “You think you can just swoop in and save the day like some fucking hero, but you can’t stand the idea that sometimes, people don’t want it.”

Gojo exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. His expression is unreadable, but something flickers in his eyes—something restrained, something exhausted. “You think this was about me playing hero?” he asks, voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “It was never about that.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Then what was it about, huh?”

He leans in slightly, elbows resting on his knees, and for a moment, the space between you feels suffocating. “It was about you,” he says simply. “You were hurting yourself, and whether you want to admit it or not, you needed someone to give a shit.” His gaze is unwavering, piercing straight through you. “And I did.”

Something deep in your chest twists violently at his words. You hate it. You hate that he’s saying these things, that he’s forcing you to face something you’ve spent years running from. “You ruined everything,” you say, but the fight in your voice is weakening, cracking. “You made me feel like I was broken.”

Gojo’s lips press together, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he says, “Maybe you were. And maybe that wasn’t your fault.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and deafening. Your breath catches in your throat, your nails digging into your skin. You don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to acknowledge it.

So you don’t.

Instead, you force out a laugh, hollow and sharp. “Wow,” you say, tilting your head. “Look at you, throwing around your profound wisdom like you have any right to talk about my choices.”

Gojo’s jaw clenches slightly, but his expression remains composed. “I’m not pretending to know everything. But I know what I saw. And I know what you were doing to yourself.”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling too exposed, too raw. The weight of his gaze is suffocating. “I don’t owe you shit, Gojo,” you mutter. Your limbs feel heavy, the remnants of alcohol and weed dulling your words, but you don’t care. “Not an explanation. Not an apology. Nothing.”

“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t owe me anything.”

The silence between you is suffocating, thick enough to choke on. It presses into your chest, wrapping around your ribs like vines, squeezing the air out of you.

“Yet, you stopped, didn’t you?” Gojo’s voice is quieter now, almost careful. But that’s the thing about him—he never does anything without reason. There’s always an edge, always an expectation.

Your throat is dry. You don’t know what he wants from you. Validation? A confession that he was right? Some proof that his interference actually meant something?

You let the silence stretch, the weight of his stare almost unbearable. Then, barely, you nod.

The second you do, his lips twitch, but the hint of satisfaction is fleeting. He shuts it down before it can settle, masks whatever flicker of feeling was there.

“I did,” you say, forcing the words out like they don’t belong to you. “But only because of my mom. Didn’t want her to look at me like I’m killing her anymore. Not because of you.”

There it is. The flinch he tries to hide, the subtle shift in his expression that most people wouldn’t catch. But you do.

His fingers curl against his knee. He exhales, slow, measured, as if weighing his words before letting them slip past his lips.

“You shouldn’t have stopped because of your mom,” he says, voice like a knife cutting through the space between you. “Or because of me. You should have stopped for you. But you never do anything for yourself, do you?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming, unreadable. “That’s why I don’t think you won’t go back to it again.”

It stings, the way he says it. The certainty in his voice, like he’s already decided that no matter what you say, he’s right.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Well, I won’t.”

“Good,” he says. But the way he looks at you tells you he doesn’t believe a word of it.

Frustration coils inside you, tightening until it’s unbearable. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

He leans back, arms crossed, his face unreadable. And when he speaks, his voice is quiet, final.

“Well, I don’t.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “And that’s on you.”

The words cut deeper than they should.

The weight of his words settles over you like a curse, seeping into the cracks you pretend don’t exist. You should fight back—should tell him he’s wrong, that you’re different now, that you’ve changed. But the thing is, you don’t.

Because you don’t know if you have.

The silence drags between you, stretching thinner and thinner, like a wire about to snap. The city outside hums—distant car horns, laughter echoing through the streets, life continuing as if this moment doesn’t exist, as if Gojo Satoru isn’t sitting across from you unraveling everything you’ve tried so desperately to hold together.

You reach for your lighter again, fingers twitching as you flick the flame on, then off. On. Off. Anything to keep your hands busy, to keep yourself from doing something you’ll regret.

Gojo watches you, his gaze sharp, dissecting. And then—he exhales through his nose, something bitter curling at the edges of his mouth.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Your jaw tightens. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

He shakes his head, slow and tired, like he’s finally giving up on something he should’ve walked away from a long time ago. And for some reason, that makes you feel sick.

“I wanted you to get better,” he says, voice low, steady. “Not because I wanted to fix you. Not because I needed to feel like some kind of savior.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I wanted you to get better because I fucking cared.”

The confession shouldn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t crack something inside you, shouldn’t make your chest tighten, shouldn’t make you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something you can’t control. But it does.

And it terrifies you.

“Then you shouldn’t have done what you did,” you bite out, clinging to the anger, because it’s easier than facing the truth. “You shouldn’t have told them. You shouldn’t have made my life a nightmare—”

“I did what I had to,” Gojo interrupts, voice cold, final. “And I’d do it again.”

The air between you shifts. Your breath stutters, and you realize—he means it.

You shake your head, standing too fast. The room tilts, the weight of the night pressing down on you. “I don’t—I can’t do this right now.”

You don't stop him. You don't say anything as he brushes past you, don’t move as he heads for the door. But just as his fingers curl around the handle, his voice reaches you one last time.

“You can hate me all you want,” he says, softer this time. “But at least I did something. At least I gave a shit.”

The door clicks shut behind him, but his words follow, lingering in your mind like a scar that refuses to fade.

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suguru-getos · 1 year ago

Text

-> 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕤 - 𝕘𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝕩 𝕗!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

a/n: it’s been a while since i wrote something comforting w/ my baby 🥺🩵 | warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, smut, oral, breeding, baths 🛁, aftercare

the weekend! the bloody weekend! you could swear everyday at work you’d wander off to the thought of getting some much needed rest, getting some solace & some soft and tender slow-ness to your otherwise fast paced routine. it was getting mundane — coming home from work, having dinner with your husband, sometimes (oftentimes) having dinner alone, and then being too exhausted to do anything but surrendering to slumber.

satoru was couped up in missions, busy as ever. being the gojo clan’s head and one of the key members of sorcerery had it’s disadvantages. sigh. at this point, you’re starting to get cranky with just how much you ache for him, just how much you miss him.

your thoughts are hazy, the only thing that’s keeping you going despite the sheer exhaustion your body is going through is how satoru will lose it. he bought your last company — because they wouldn’t give you sick off. you snickered at the rollback of memories. now that company is one of the prominent ones in japan. you could may as well be the ceo & enjoy, but satoru knows, or as he says, “you’re a masochist aren’t you princess? love tormenting yourself?” yeah, you kind of… do. you just want to work because it helps you not get bored… and makes you realize that you could have it if you wanted to; without anyone’s help. so, when it comes to your job, you truly try your best to keep satoru at bay.

you drive home and get inside, opening the locked door. your beautiful cat comes and nuzzles against your leg, and you kneel, kissing his forehead & letting him boop his nose against yours. the smell of home was always divine, always soothing & always comforting. you wonder if satoru does something to this god damn gojo estate to make it so inhabitable.

“oh? jesus he’s trying to compete again?” his footsteps echo and your blush creeps in instantly at his voice. despite being married for a few years, he still manages to give you the same butterflies as he did on the very first date. wearing cushioned slip ons, walking towards the door as looming & large that he is, his soft baby grin is demanding a kiss. “i told your little kitty that i’d be the first to kiss mama. look at him though.” he grins, leaning in to reach your stature and capturing your lips in a soft, exquisitely gentle kiss. the pads of his fingers grip your chin, his hunger for you is insatiable yet, satoru makes sure to love you in a way you’ve always needed. you often wonder how he does that — how he knows when you need your guts rearranged and when you need reassurance. you suppose you’ve just gotten lucky in choosing the perfect man to exist.

“i missed my baddie.” he winks, leaning away, his usual glossed lips shining so much more with your saliva coating them. “come on~” he coos, holding your bag and letting you rest. the next moment you’re embraced princess-style, leaning against his chest & all thoughts whatsoever frighteningly subdued with his cologne. “i love you, toru, missed you.” you managed to mumble out, barely audible.

it’s truly magnetic, how he manages to make such a putty out of someone so formidable & so unbending, so firm & so stern with anything & everything. if the people around you would see you with your husband, they’d get confused with your entire being.

“i love you so much more, missed you every second, every minute of the day.” he hums, nuzzling his nose against you & kissing the crown of your head. “i’ve ran a bath for you pri-”

you cut him off, not your fault he looks entirely godly, unfathomably devoted & so nurturing. you had to cut him off with a kiss. lips hungrily devouring his, hands threading against his hair and scratching his undercut. it’s like you turn a different switch on whenever you teasingly caress his undercut. it smells so good — he’s already making you loopy.

you’re the only one who cuts off the kiss, leaning back and panting softly. “or… maybe she can have a bath after.” satoru coos, gentle as ever. leaning in and exhaling against the shell of your ear. “after she’s given what she needs… mm?”

and just like that you’re nestled against the plush mattress of your master bedroom. the lighting dim enough to unwind, satoru’s large & looming hands threading through your clothes and unlayering you. “my sweet present!” he chirps, grinning and rewarding you with sweet kisses with every layer of clothing that’s discarded.

your giggles echo through the room when you’re finally naked, his own tee leaves his body, granting your parched senses the sight of his abs. he smiles, holding your wrist and letting your palm brush against his abs. “all yours.” it’s like a prayer, no — it’s the inverse of it, it’s like he’s declaring something for the both of you. that no matter what the ring on his finger & the name on his heart will always be yours.

“wan’ you so bad.” you managed to whine, needily glazed at his face & pouting. “me too, little baby. want you so bad. need to feel you, need to taste you.” he smiles softly, leaning in and holding both your wrists in one hand, pinning him atop your head against the mattress while his mouth continues to labor against your supple skin. muzzled! satoru needs to get muzzled — with how his teeth graze at your skin, how his mouth marks and breaks your skin with prominent hickeys.

your submission is evident with the way you squirm under him, panting heavily. “please- mm~” the sweet ache in your pelvis is too much to bear. especially when his mouth wraps around your tits, suckling softly, nibbling at it softly. “that’s it, sing for me.” he hums, kneading the other one & pinching the lonely nipple.

your wrist is having a mind of it’s own, struggling to touch him, to feel him. it enables a soft smirk out of him. it’s always nice to have an example of you wanting him as much as he does. his hand leaves your chainned wrist, rendering you free & letting you touch & caress his muscular, broad back, play with his hair, respond with kisses and hickeys of your own.

a soft trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts to your sternum, reaching your waist, followed by a needy inhale of your dripping cunt disarrayed your thoughts completely. “aw she missed me too.” satoru nuzzles his nose against your puffy, needy clit, spreading your pussy-lips with his thumbs. “my little girl missed me too~” he always talks to you down there, how could it not make you hoplessly throb?

he chuckles when you do so, “yeah? wanna kiss me?” he leans in and starts suckling at your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“gah- toru! nn~” you moaned out at the warmth of his mouth against you, at the way his tongue flicked at your clit over & over. so skillful, all-knowing of your pleasure points. his thumb comes to play again, pushing the protective hood up & exposing your clit bare. your eyes widen when he starts licking and suckling rhythmically and you scream out at the soft, but firm nibbling of your nerve bundle. you could come undone so easily it was almost embarrassing.

“m’ close! sah- mm~ toru- oh god-”

your moans are making the tent in his pants ten times harder to bear, pre-staining him as he continues to ravage you senselessly. parched. hungry. starving…

your body betrays you as you topple off the apex of pleasure, shivering like a dried autumn leaf beneath him and letting the powerful waves of pleasure take you for a ride. satoru’s tongue mercilessly rides it out for you, half-lidded at the taste of you. you’re molten sin.

“good girl, that’s it.” his lips shine with your essence coated, and he licks em’ with his tongue and grins. high on you. dazed on you. the sound of his zipper echoes through the room, dwindling with your panting.

a sinful moan escapes you when his fat mushroom tip plunges against your sobbing hole, his own disarrayed groan prominent. the stretch and the ache is undeniable, your hands helplessly latching onto his back and your pussy twitching & clamping to get used to him. satoru is big. you’d think you’d get used to him after all these years but not quite so…

his tongue wraps around your nipple as he hums. “so warm and tight, so fit to be my breeding baby.” the words out of his mouth are filth. and yet with the way you helplessly twitch around him he knows you love it. his cock starts to move inside you, rutting against the sweet spots you have and smirking at the lewd noises your cunt makes for him. “fuck- fuck- feels s’ good! ca-can’t oh my god-!” you cry out, eyes losing focus, mind and body tamed just right.

“yeah? m’ your god baby? the honored one? hmm?”

satoru hums, leaning in and kissing you passionately, eating away at your moans and your helpless whimpers. your nails have indented & scratched his back just right. the dull ache of it only makes him rut against you harder.

his fingers trail down again, pressing against the sweet bundle of nerves and rubbing in circles. you need to cum with him, you have to cum with him.

you’re seeing stars soon, the ache builds again, ragged breaths and bated pants echoing through the sanctuary of your bedroom. “yeah baby, i know- i know- you’re close, go on. show me what my princess can do. milk me like a good girl. don’t waste a drop.” he groans, leaning his head back as his adam’s apple bobs. his own thrusts are getting sloppier. he needs you carnally.

“gah- shit! fuck- fuck- mmgh~” it’s not too long before you tip off the edge again, gummy walls clamping and massaging the shaft of his cock and stopping only at the taste of his seed in your womb. stopping only at the familiar warmth soothing your bruised pussy.

satoru kisses your jaw, muttering soft, apologetic praises. “that’s it baby, you feel so good, you take me so well, couldn’t do it without you-” you’re latching onto his every word, half-lidded and drunk on pleasure, hugging him softly. now comes the wave of content exhaustion.

satoru keeps you cockwarming him and hugging him as he leans you against his chest, hands caressing through your hair and peppering soft, feather-like kisses all over your face. “i love you, sweet girl.” he muses, “love you too- toru,” you respond back, sighing happily at the warmth of his skin.

satoru takes you to the bathroom, and your eyes gleam at the way he’s prepared your bath. you could almost cry from the intense spoiling. your favorite space-galaxy lamp, your favorite scented candles, flower-petals, bubbles just right, jaccuzi working just fine. “see? told ya~ gonna help you unwind.” he croons. smiling when your eyes light up at the setup. he knows you loved it.

he’s quick to kiss your forehead and settle in with you, hands massaging your body and letting you nap on him. these are the times when satoru considers himself the most lucky. he has someone he loves with the entirety of his being — and they love him back? how fucking lucky!

and you do, you do love him back with all your heart & soul. you’re blessed to have someone like satoru gojo.

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hollow-lime-green · 21 days ago

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You mentioning Gojo being a masochist made me curious, Satosugu kink headcanons?

i had to think about this for a minute lol, because there's definitely a difference between 'headcanons' and 'what i would like to read'. and i'll read, like, anything.

lame answer, i know: in canon, i think you could really do anything with them, especially post time-skip. they're both special-grade sorcerer crazy, and i think that lends itself well to all kinds of power play and extreme physical sensations.

cult leader geto's gotta be into some real freak shit. greatest hits: exhibitionism, curse sex (yes I am thinking of tentacles obviously but like, there could be others), lots of sex toys, and of course, group sex (many such cult leaders).

there's then a split based on how you read geto's sincerity as a cult leader (is he actually as unhinged as he acts?), because i'd say it's kind of hard to tell. that's the jjk0/jjk characterization heavy split. there is definitely a d/s component here, but he could kind of fall on either end of the dynamic. with d, i can see him going really hard into petplay, slave/master, and degradation/humiliation kinks. with s, i can see painplay, heavy bondage, and some level of self degradation.

with his nature in jjk0, i feel like even as a sub he'd have that aura of being in control. or at least, in being kind of unshakeable. gojo can do whatever he wants, but it's still playing into geto's hands because he's whipped (maybe in more ways than one).

post-ts gojo, at his power peak, i think would really lean into kinks that manufacture vulnerability: heavy bondage, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, etc.

my favorite headcanon, which I actually have a WIP for, but will likely not see the light of day for many many moons, if ever (not because I don't like it but because i have a looooot of other writing that is higher priority): gojo would totally be into CNC (consensual non-consent, i.e. rape roleplay). it's the forced helplessness of it all; he's a perfect character for it.

gojo has strong RCT established, so I also think he'd be on the extreme end of masochism. it doesn't pose a real risk to him, and he's realistically not going to ever feel pain unless he arranges for it to happen. this also gets fun when you combine it with the sensory deprivation. asphyxiation fits in here too.

anyway that's all canonverse adult stuff. for FIYM specifically, they're much softer and suguru's not Like That. these are some of my favorites there:

satoru: submission (obviously lmao), lingerie (wearing), light bondage (tied), strength kink

suguru: sensory deprivation (we'll get there soon-ish), light bondage (tying), overstim (giving)

both: body worship (giving), praise kink

#ask #satosugu fanfic #satosugu #gego #goge #sugusato #fire in your mouth #jjk fanfic

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vrisrezis · 2 years ago

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OMG I REALLY LIKE UR YAN GETO HC!! It's quite rare seeing sub yan fic these days... And if u don't mind, may I rq yan Gojo hc? (No pressure tho)

Have a nice day/night!

Thank u! And yes ! I’m such a fan of subby yanderes . Makes me sad there aren’t more :((

Here’s some Yan gojo for the soul

College au? Normal Yandere stuff, gojo is possessive and very bratty and subby! umm lotsa nsfw in this one, mentions of choking, gojo is very masochistic but still very loving, kind mentions of gojo getting beaten up but … yea

Yan! Gojo who notices you the moment you step into those door of the classroom, and he makes himself your never ending curse ever since

Yan! Gojo who is convinced you must love him, since he’s irresistible. Why wouldn’t you love him? The object of his affections has taste, after all.

Yan! Gojo who thinks you’re playing hard to get when you say you aren’t interested. There’s no need to be shy! He’s not going anywhere.

Yan! Gojo who’s delusional enough to think you’re dating simply because you looked at him a second too long.

Yan! Gojo who sees himself as the only one worthy to be in your presence. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

Yan! Gojo who loves to compliment you, but expects the same back. Otherwise he gets mad at you. However, if you ask why he’s mad he claims he’s fine ! There’s nothing wrong! But he’s silently brooding at the fact you didn’t compliment him back.

In the same breath Yan! Gojo who gets mad when you don’t notice slight changes in his appearance such as a different shampoo he’s using. He did it just for you! How could you not notice?

Yan! Gojo who insists you kiss him whenever you talk to that stupid bitch that keeps grabbing your hand.

Yan! Gojo who’s completely unashamed in how badly he wants you, and tells you as such.

Yan! Gojo who can’t get off unless you’re inside of him (whether that be your dick in him or his dick in u lol)

Yan! Gojo who wants you to pull his hair and completely wreck him. He knows he can be a overconfident brat, please put him in his place!

Because for as much as he’s the only right one for you, you’re the only right one for him. The only one that can put him in his place.

Yan! Gojo who ends up threatening your friends to leave you alone, you’re his.

Yan! Gojo who acts over confident as per usual, he’s confident in your relationship but he still gets really jealous of everyone around him.

Yan! Gojo who’s really possessive and protective of you, truly acts like your classic crazy girlfriend.

Yan! Gojo who screams at you when you talk to other people and make him jealous “on purpose”

But even after those fights, he comes back to you as if nothing ever happened an hour later, giving you the softest look and the sweetest kisses.

Yan! Gojo who gets mad at you a lot but also forgets the things that you do that make him mad… a lot.

Yan! Gojo who gets very jealous easily. Insists you fuck him to make him forget about it.

Yan! Gojo who gets clingy when he’s jealous, and starts being openly perverted and sexual as a result of his jealousness.

Yan! Gojo who likes when you choke him when you’re fucking

Yan! Gojo who looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, to him you are perfection. He loves every single part of you, because that’s what it means to love someone. Even when you piss him off, he loves every inch of you.

Yan! Gojo who insists you put him in his place constantly, please beat him up. You’re the only one that is capable of beating him up. The only one capable of touching him, he wants to constantly be reminded of how you own him.

Yan! Gojo who just wants you to use and abuse him.

Yan! Gojo who wants you to make him cry and embarrass him, he does not care about anyone else. He doesn’t care about his reputation or the people that worry about him, he wants you to wreck him beyond repair.

Yan! Gojo who just wants to be your toy, and never feels insecure about it cause he’s so convinced he’s your world, just like you’re his.

Yan! Gojo who likes taking you out on dates, he’s surprisingly romantic for being such a menace to society

Yan! Gojo who is actually very sappy despite how crazy he can be

Yan! Gojo who doesn’t try to resort to killing people but absolutely will and will feel nothing upon doing it, they have to be really persistent on talking to you.

Yan! Gojo who tricks you into thinking your friends and family dont love you and even if they did, who cares about them?

Yan! Gojo who wants to be the only one in your life, won’t understand why you don’t just ditch everyone else already.

Yan! Gojo who loves being your toy, but he also loves being your good little pretty boy.

Yan! Gojo who wants you to slap and step on his dick

Yan! Gojo who tells you how much he loves and adores you everyday

Yan! Gojo who’s so clingy it’s overwhelming

Yan! Gojo who loves you so intensely it becomes completely overbearing

Yan! Gojo who likes giving you little kisses on your neck

Yan! Gojo who lets out the cutest giggles when you do something he thinks is cute.

Yan! Gojo who laughs like a highschool girl when you make a joke

Yan! Gojo who constantly gives you literal heart eyes

Yan! Gojo who blushes when you call him pretty

Yan! Gojo who’s into you feminizing him. Call him your pretty girl.

Yan! Gojo who likes being carried by you even if he’s a lot bigger than you

Yan! Gojo who loves being kissed on the neck, he blushes like crazy

Yan! Gojo who likes being called princess

Yan! Gojo who loves you so much and tells you constantly

Yan! Gojo who’s very demanding in your relationship and isn’t exactly aware of the fact, but he loves you and would protect you. He’s the only one that deserves you. Please don’t throw him away!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sub!gojo #sub!character #sub!yandere #sub!jjk

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genacity · 2 years ago

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ᚙ GENACITY’S KINKTOBER 2023! ୭ৎ

hello everyone, it’s gen! this year, i’ve decided to participate in kinktober to make up for the lack of content i’ve been producing. to put it short, i’ve been super busy and demotivated because i haven’t played hoyo games in a while. but, i thought it’d be fun to crank out a few halloween themed stories for you guys to let y’all know i’m still alive. every monday and friday of the month i will be posting a blurb or story with one character and a few kinks. so, without further ado, genacity’s 2023 kinktober prompt list!

the kinks written in this masterlist may be considered graphic or extreme for some audiences. please be advised.

this may or may not include mythical species / monsterfucking (vampires, lycanthrope, ghosts, etc), bondage, aphrodisiac / drugging, somnophilia, unhealthy obsession, blood (no gore), impact play, etc.

in all works, each party explicitly verbalizes their concent and is aware they are consenting. in the case of established relationships, it is to be interpreted that the couple has mutually agreed to anything beforehand (ex. somnophilia, aphrodisiac, etc). and is aware and okay with what their partner is doing. safewords are present, consent is key.

this masterlist will also be multifandom to reach more audiences and test my comfortability writing for new media.

as always, minors, do not interact with any of my works or me in general. this blog contains mature content.

thank you for choosing whorror airlines. ✈️

OCTOBER 2. gojo satoru

your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.

bratty! first time sub! gojo, overstim, dacryphilia, anal penetration & fingering, hair pulling, dumbification

OCTOBER 6. rengoku kyojurou

when a clueless hashira wanders into your layer of operations, you can’t help but put up a fight— and admire his fat tits through the inconvenient tear in his uniform you inflict.

demon! reader, masochist? rengoku, feminization, body worship, praise, nipple play, impact play

OCTOBER 9/10. armin arlert

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

vampire! parent! reader, babysitter! armin, blood kink, blood sucking, slight pain kink, handjob

OCTOBER 13. vi (league / arcane)

after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.

afab! reader, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation

BREAK. OCTOBER 15 — 21.

OCTOBER 23. kaeya alberich

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship

OCTOBER 27. simon “ghost” riley

you and your partner ghost have to train on how to get out of hostage situations. luckily for you, you’re good at tying knots.

sadist! reader, masochist! ghost, bondage, temperature/wax play, suggestive

#@ genacity kinktober 2023 ! 🩸 ☆#kinktober #dom reader #sub character #sub smut #jjk smut #kny smut #aot smut #arcane smut #league of legends smut #genshin smut #cod smut #sub jjk #sub kny #sub aot #sub arcane #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub cod

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envy-of-the-apple · 8 months ago

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I'm 99% sure it was called "Forever Yours" and it was a yandere oneshot series basically of a ton of popular anime boys from the time. The ones I remember were the Tokyo Ghoul dude, there were some Death Note guy chapters, there was the ML from Kamisama kiss, OH and the white haired guy from Psycho-Pass. There were like 50 chapters. It had probably a million likes or something it was INSANELY popular.

Ryntymy also had some other ongoing fics (and a ryntymny/reader crack fic, god, love them for that), but god it's soooo hard to remember.

i DID find a post about one of the fics i knew of that was actually REALLY GOOD that you would have LOVED (it was very similar to saltburn although it's quotev so this yandere was ofc pretty tame):

https://www.reddit.com/r/Quotev/comments/1b652gu/trying_to_find_old_x_reader_fic/

as for what's still up... hm. i do remember parallel ink, and also psychadelic peanut (they had this really trippy izaya fic):

https://www.quotev.com/story/9754667/Unfortunate-YandereIzaya-Orihara-x-Reader/1

AH parallel ink wrote kingdom of possession, which i DO remember:

https://www.quotev.com/story/6759314/Kingdom-of-Possession-Yandere-King-x-Reader

and there was this one series that was ACTUALLY quizzes, which was neat:

https://www.quotev.com/quiz/8085561/Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind

this one was a pretty fun sort of mystery style thing:

https://www.quotev.com/story/11260294/Seesaw/1

and this one was like. formative for my longing for pathetic masochistic men. i wasn't super into it back then but THE SEEDS WERE PLANTED:

https://www.quotev.com/story/8901227/Then-Came-You-Sadistic-Reader-x-Yandere-Character-One-Shots/2

SEESAW????? I lovedddd that fic so so much ahhhh it was amazing!!! the fic put me in so much denial cuz i was like 'its him! wait no its not him? wait it IS him? no wait-' very very entertaining

speaking of murder mystery yandere fics...there was this one where the reader was isekaid onto a train and quickly pieces together that all of the passengers resemble ppl from this book they read years ago...except they cant remember the ending aka they dont know who the murderer is. pretty sure the author deleted it but it was good!

its so funny you mention psychedelic peanut cuz i remember they got canceled???? actually...pretty sure parallel ink did too...as well the rest of their clique....and thats why i zipped outta the quotev yandere community!

actually that one aot isekai i was talking about was hosted on quotev! pretty much the height of literature, there's no competition. if i dont find it im just tempted to just rewrite it.

Curse of a Broken Promise is still up there and i think it still holds up! its a yandere kaneki ken fic and the writing is so....whimsical? idk how to explain it but it whenever i read it i always felt so sad. good read!

Imperishable affection (yandere!mafioso x reader) is ALSO written by the same author. basically yandere mafia boss guy threatens you into loving him or else your family dies yada yada so ofc the mc does. for a quotev yandere fic its pretty dark actually.

You Need Me (Yandere Manipulator x reader) THIS was the fic that brought me into the yandere thing. and the author used to update EVERY day so this whole this was an event. and the TWIST i remember being 14 and gasping like 'omg he did EVERYTHING???' very very good

If you want a izayax reader fic whos author WASNT wierd might i suggest Twisted Obsession. Beautiful writing. Its better than most ao3 writing actually and wayyy above mine. I love the way this author characterizes Izaya in this and the backstory for why hes so strange is pretty believable. like i fully believe it should be canon.

Savior Complex is an aot isekai where the mc gets whisked into a yandere sim where Petra is the love interest and the rest of the aot cast is obsessed with her. but we can all guess what happens. pretty good tho!!!

BUT EVERYONE GO READ PRETTY its a gojo x LATINA READER AHHHHHH YESSSS. i just LOVE LOVE LOVE the way this author writes. its so poetic and there's so much left up for interpretation.

#logged into my old account to find these and omg the memories it brought up #yandere #yandere recs #fic recs

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snail-day · 3 months ago

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omg thank you for getting back to my previous ask about male childhood friend! i love how manipulative you right geto its so interesting to read. just another thought unrelated to the previous ask, what would jjk characters be like with a reader who is a lot more assertive and not so obedient? like a reader who's actually headstrong and tries to call them out on their shit. hope this inspires you and sorry if im asking too much!

Anon, my sweet sugarplum, you are not asking for too much! I never delete asks (except the mean ones - don’t tease me and then just leave me hanging, that’s rude. At least finish the job). Honestly, I love when people send in thoughts because you all bring such different perspectives! And if I’m not feeling an idea now, I just tuck it away for later. Trust me, I’ll get back to it! (I will stare at some of them for a good hour)

Anyways!

Gojo would one thousand percent adore a more assertive reader. This man is made for that dynamic. He’s a masochist at heart, challenge him, push back, give him attitude, and he’s eating it up. He’s the type to grin ear to ear when you snap at him, acting all smug just to rile you up even more. If you’re rough around the edges, maybe a little tsundere, he’s begging for your attention like an overgrown puppy. Pinch his cheeks? He’ll nuzzle into your hand. Shove him away? Oh, so you do like playing hard to get. Call him out on his bullshit? He’ll just pout dramatically, draping himself over you like dead weight. "Aww, you're so mean to me, baby~ but please, keep going~" You’re not getting rid of him - ever.

Geto... oh, he’s tricky. He likes someone who knows what they want. Confidence is attractive. But what he doesn’t like? You being able to get what you want without his interference. If you’re independent, self-sufficient, and completely resistant to his control, well, that’s a problem. He’s willing to allow you some assertiveness, so long as it doesn’t threaten his hold on you. If you lean on him even a little, you’re safe - for now. But if you push back too hard, if you dare argue about, say, why you’ve been kidnapped or why you need to be kept away from the world... oh, sweetheart. He’s going to fix that. Slowly, methodically, breaking down those walls one by one. Until suddenly, your confidence feels like defiance, your strength feels like misplaced stubbornness, and you’re crawling into his lap, pressing desperate kisses to his cheek, murmuring sweet apologies before he forces you into a nap session for being so cranky. He has the right tool to fix that attitude of yours after all.

Nanami, he’s a tough one. Disciplined, composed, and definitely not the type to engage in petty arguments. If you challenge him, push back against his protectiveness, call him out on his control? He won’t snap. He won’t raise his voice. He won’t even argue. He’ll simply… double down. You think you’re strong-willed? So is he. But the difference? He has patience on his side. You can fight, resist, argue all you want, but at the end of the day, he knows what’s best for you. And he’ll make sure you see that. Not through manipulation, not through threats, but through something far more insidious - kindness.

Because tell me - how do you push back against someone who only ever helps you? Someone who never forces, only guides? He makes things easy. Too easy. A little inconvenience? He’s already solved it. Need help? He’s already there. And before you even realize it, you start relying on him more and more. Your assertiveness starts feeling… unnecessary.

Sukuna...well he just eats you if you fight back. Easy.

#snail yaps #I do have more for sukuna but like...he's hard to see romantically #in like a yandere aspect #forehead smoochies for anon

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emonaculate · 21 days ago

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Gojo and his bitchy girlfriend...

Looking at Mr. Satoru Gojo I can honestly say with confidence that he is the type of guy to have a really mean and rude... overall "bitchy" girlfriend and what's worse is he likes it.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Gojo is a FREAKKKKK, Language, Y/n is mean obvi, Brat-Tamer Gojo, Gojo has a very filthy vocabulary, Toxic relationship dynamic?? It works for them but unhealthy irl, Gojo's powers are practically eldritch horror level, Gojo threatens Y/n (he's bluffing but she doesnt really wanna test it), Emon gets carried away.. again, Dubcon, Gojo is scary, Sadistic!Gojo, god complex??Gojo, Y/n might be freaked out too, Masochist!Y/n, mentions of Black!reader but anyone can read, spitting, choking, spanking, crying kink??, overstimulation, head (fem receiving), Gojo possibly has no regard for the life of strangers??, unprotected sex, abuse of Gojo's powers,

Satoru Gojo has the patience of a saint, well, at least that's what everyone thinks, seeing him interact with you.

Don't get me wrong, you're a very nice woman when it comes to literally anyone else. You help elderly women cross the street, hold the door for truck drivers whose hands are full with packages to deliver. You would give your last dime to help a misplaced person on the street if they asked. So why were you so rude to your own boyfriend.

If people did not see how you treated Gojo with their own eyes; they would not believe you were even capable of being so cruel.

Itadori would never forget how fast your personality switched from the loving instructor he had grown to care deeply about to a woman that looked as if she wouldn't so much as piss to put out a flame if Gojo were lit on fire. He honestly thought you were also possessed by an ancient demonic spirit.

The biggest question is why does Gojo just take it? Why does he turn off his infinity to just be slapped by you? He's the strongest after all.. I mean, sure your technique is powerful, but it wouldn't even hold a candle to the amount of power the man possessed.

Even now, as you stand in front of him, whilst he towers over you in not height but sheer muscle, yelling about something trivial like him being late for a dinner date you planned using his card by the way. He just watches you scream in his face, jamming your manicured nail (he's pretty sure he paid for them too) into his chest.

His smile never leaves his face as passersby watch in confusion and pity. Poor him. He deserves so much better. People often think but what they don't realize is he's exactly where he wants to be. The damn man encourages it in fact.

Gojo Satoru has known who he was for as long as he could remember. Yes, he is the strongest sorcerer of the modern century, but he is also a degenerate. He was raised with no other option but to be the head of Gojo clan. A symbol of power. People feared him and what he could do. At times, he feared his damn self. How easy it could be for him to lose control and lash out, wipe out all life on Earth for no reason other than he just feels like it. People should thank you honestly.

If not for you, all that pent-up anger he has would have been unleashed long ago. Instead he get to unleash it on and in your cunt whenever you really push his buttons. Kind of like how you're doing right now.

Gojo had to admit you really were outdoing yourself right now. Screaming in a public place? Putting your hands on him? Swear at him? Every nerve in his body was twitching to activate his infinity on you. God, you were so fucked today.

You feel the energy shift in the air as the temperature fucking changes. Your posture stiffens up ever so slightly as you feel Gojo gently pull you into his chest, rubbing small circles into your back. Had you overdone it? You know he had been stressed out trying to figure out how to plead his case in keeping Yuji alive. Every minor inconvenience he experienced lately would cause a power outage within 50 miles if he so much as twitched his eye too hard. His curse energy was so high it felt like putting metal in a toaster while it was on if you so much as brushed past him and grazed his skin.

He hadn't slept or ate in days; it was very clear he was being affected when he was teaching a lesson, and he decided to write something on the board, but instead created a crater through the left side of the entire school. Thank goodness there were no casualties.

You still knew you had to do something. You had tried everything to get him to talk about how he was feeling instead of resorting to acting this way, but nothing else had worked. Sure, the sex was great, but it was very clear he was more focused on not hurting you. You knew that you had to bring out the big guns. Put on a real show.

So that brings you back to your current situation. His hands cold to the touch as he rubbed small electrifying touches into your back. Was he writing something with his touches? Oh-

Yeah you were so fucked.

Gojo pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away and smiling even wider at you. To the onlookers, he looked so sweet and understand despite having such a nasty and cruel girlfriend— but to you, who actually knew what he was capable of and how that kindness he displayed was faker than the acrylic nails on your finger—you were terrified. You had over done it by a long shot.

He remained silent as he guided the awaiting car. Your protests and pleas falling on deaf ears as he only responded with soft whispers of "I know baby, I know."

He knew exactly what you needed. You were another curse he needed to exorcise. It was the only excuse for why you would act like that in public. You did so much more than just annoy him today. Gojo was pissed. Beyond pissed actually. He had just gotten back from yet another meeting with the higher-ups and they denied his request to spare Yuji yet again. Now, he knows you couldn't have known but what perfect timing this was. He was boiling with anger and now didn't have to hold back at all. You managed to save the higher-ups from a well-deserved death yet again.

You practically vibrated in the seat of the luxurious car with fear, watching every move your boyfriend made. If it came to it, you were prepared to jump out of the car; you had never seen him this upset before, and surely it wasn't just because of your little display back at the restaurant. Even in the past, when he got upset by your rude behavior, he was never silent. He always would talk and humor your attitude before pulling you close and whispering the things he was going to do to you as soon as you two were alone. This was different.

The car came to a halt in front of Gojo's place. His private residence. Not the Gojo Clan housing but a separate place entirely. You had never been here before, usually opting to go back to your place because he preferred how much more "lived" in your place was compared to his. Gojo steps out of the car and stretches slightly before turning back to you; eyes immediately narrowing into a icy glare.

"Get out of the car." His voice was no longer that usual playful octave but deeper and cruel.

You remain seated, not in rebellion but paralyzing fear. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. This was bad. Really bad. Gojo snaps his finger in your face, electricity shooting out from his fingertips blowing out the surrounding streetlights immediately.

"If I have to repeat myself, I'll crush this fucking car. You know I can, Y/n."

You scramble, practically tripping over yourself, to get out of the car. Not for your own safety; you know Satoru well enough to be certain he'd never hurt you intentionally. The same could not be said about the innocent driver. While you were sure he was just bluffing, you did not want to test that theory with how mad he was.

As sick as it is, Gojo's eyes twinkle with delight as he watches you run to join him outside the car. Good, you understand how serious this is. His hand snakes around your waist as he leans down to press another loving kiss to your temple. He tells you to go inside and wait for him. You obey without a second thought. Gojo looks back at the car door you left ajar in your rush to exit. A scoff escapes his lips in disbelief. You can't even close the door behind you? He really needs to teach you some manners.

He tries his hardest.. really his absolute hardest to close the door as gently as possible (not wanting to scare the driver anymore than he already has) but even with just pressing one finger to the door; the materials of the door dent completely inward. If the driver is concerned he doesnt say only facing forward with both hands on the steering wheel trembling.

Gojo clicks his tongue in disapproval before muttering an apology and telling the driver to make it home safe. As if he, himself, isn't the most dangerous entity alive. The driver weakly nods and speeds off.

Gojo then turns his attention back to one of his many houses and teleports inside, finding you standing in the empty hall with tears threatening to roll down your soft cheeks. He only tilts his head and laughs mockingly.

"You crying?"

He teleports again, this time with you, to his bedroom. You hadn't even seen him touch you. He tosses you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing, and unbuttons his shirt. His eyes were crazed and wild, swirling with what could only be described as raw power.

"I haven't given you anything to cry about. But don't worry, I'm gonna."

He's on top of you before you can blink; one hand pinning both of yours to the bed. You don't know where to look, all you can do is feel the raw power radiating off him and try to control your own breathing. You know you have no reason to be afraid, but your body says otherwise. The loud RIIPPP— brings you back to the present; he tore your dress straight down the middle. You didn't even feel the tug either; it was instant.

Satoru leaves open-mouthed, wet, and passionate kisses everywhere that he sees exposed melanated skin. One of his favorite things about you is how your skin looks compared to his. He loves how rich and deeply tanned your skin is compared to his pale skin tone. He also loves how hard he has to work to make sure the bruises and marks he wants to leave show up.

You feel like you could get whiplash from the way you spin as Gojo teleports yet again and has you placed over his lap; ass up with your hands somehow tied behind your back. He's moving even faster now. Just how much did he hold back usually?

"Been a really bad girl today. So I'm not gonna hold back, mkay? Make this easier for yourself and count. If you don't I'll start over and if you fuck that up.." He pauses to think and a sinister chuckle escapes his mouth, "Just don't fuck up more than once."

You realize he left your mouth ungagged because not only does he want you to count. He wants to hear your cries and sobs. You almost forgot how much of a sadist Gojo is normally, so you can only imagine how much it's been dialed to 1000. Gojo places a kiss to your bare ass cheeks as a silent apology for what he's about to do. You brace yourself, already fighting the urge to squirm, but you still are unprepared for the impact of the hit.

The sound that leaves your mouth shocks you as the tears that were already welling in your eyes begin to pour almost immediately. You have fought special grade curses before and made it back to tell the tale but fuck— the pain you were feeling right now hurt. You grit your teeth and mutter out the number one but as soon as it leaves your lips; your poor ass is met with a black flash level of back to back hits.

Despite the warnings you know are in the back of your head, between broken sobs, you apologize and tell Gojo to stop. That you're so sorry and won't act out anymore.

Satoru raises an eyebrow; he had given you clear and concise orders, and you still defied him. Besides, you know the safeword so its not like he's a total monster and wouldn't stop if you used it. His six eyes reveal all and the arousal pooling on his lap from your aching and neglected cunt is saying otherwise but he'll humor you.

"You know the safeword. Use it."

He waits as you think it over, but then you remain silent. Gotcha. You pathetic bitch, always were into being degraded and hit. His perfect little masochist. Match made in heaven or hell; Gojo didn't give a damn. He smirks and feins concern as he grabs roughly onto your hair; pulling your head back just enough to make it uncomfortable.

"You do remember the same word right?"

"Ngh—"

A whimper escapes your mouth as your head is jerked back and forth in a demeaning motion. Not hard enough to hurt you, but enough so you feel it. You choke out the words that you do know the safeword. It seems to ignite an even bigger fire under Satoru. He leans forward and you can feel his breath tickling your neck.

"Y'know. I think you like this. You like being used like a toy. You like being fucked like a slut. You like when I treat you like some bitch I would meet at a club."

A wanton moan breaks past your lips as you shake your head. Gojo hums, letting go of your head, watching you fall abruptly back over his lap. He tells you that this is your last chance to stop being a brat and count. This time you have no warning before rapid hits blind you with hot pain. Despite that, you keep count sobbing as you fight to keep your legs from kicking.

The precision is what hurts most. He keeps hitting the same exact spots on both cheeks at a breakneck speed. By the time you say twenty you're prepared to use the safeword to get his reign of terror to stop but thanks to whatever higher being... well whatever being thats higher than Gojo— he stops to admire his work. No matter what your shade is, both of your ass cheeks are a blistering red. Arousal as dripped down your legs creating a puddle on the floor and your tears have stained your cheeks and soaked his pants leg.

"You did so well, sweets."

The nickname is back. Maybe he's calmed down enough to ease up. You cock your head slightly to look up at him and are met with a beautiful sight. His hair is frazzled and wild; the power in his eyes sparks a blue hue every couple of seconds, and his cheeks are the prettiest shade of red. He's fucking gone.

"Sator—"

You're cut off with a harsh slap to your ass again. He tells you that only good girls have the privilege of using his first name. You can only refer to him as Gojo right now. If he were still really angry with you, he'd have you refer to him as Lord Gojo.

But since he's feeling nice now; he supposes he'll let you have a reward for doing so well with your punishment. With your hands still bound he demands that you sit on his face. You know you're in no place to protest so as he moved to lay back on the bed; you do as your told and hover over his face not wanting to sit down too hard or suffocate him. You want to ease down; your ass still hurts afterall. A sudden force slams you down; Gojo's hands remained by his sides so you wonder what exactly did he do? Or the more important question is what can he do?

You have no time to think about the unknown powers that Gojo has and what it could mean for the future of sorcery as a whole, because the moment you are settled on his face, you feel his strategic tongue attacking away at your innards. You know he's using 'Six Eyes' and it's not fair. You have no defense against his attack; all you can do is moan his name like a prayer.

Satoru swears you're the best thing he's ever had the pleasure of tasting; the sounds you make is a fucking bonus. He's been with you for so long; he knows exactly what makes you tick. What your body wants— what it needs. He can work you out in less than five minutes, but where's the fun in that? Why would he give up his ambrosia? The nectar a God like him deserves to feast upon.

Your eyes roll back as you all but ride his face, chanting his name, telling him how close you are, how good he's making you feel. Then it hits you— your climax. It's intense, and your chest heaves up and down in overexertion, but he continues his onslaught. Eager like a puppy, he laps all of your fluids, a desperate moan muffled between your thighs as if he is addicted to the taste of you. You want to run but there's no where you can go especially with the way his hands dig into your plump ass dragging you back and forth over his mouth.

He finally releases whatever magical hold he has on you and lifts you off of his face with a loud pop from sucking on your clit. He teleports, and you're laid on your back with him on top of you, your essence dripping from his face and a smug grin on his face. You don't give him the chance to say something to ruin the moment by capturing his lips into a passionate kiss. It only lasts for a fleeting moment (he had a relapse in his judgment), and you're being shoved into the bed with his hand securely around your neck.

"Did I give you fucking permission to touch me?"

You open your mouth to protest and quickly shut it, feeling his grip tighten, silently daring you to say anything slick. You get a good look at Gojo and realize the only thing he has on is a gold necklace you insisted he buy to match the cross necklace you wore all the time. It dangles mockingly in your face as he leans closer to your face and tells you to open up.

By this point, you know what he wants, but every time, it is the only thing that makes you feel bashful. You slowly open your mouth, making eye contact with his blown-out, crazed sapphire eyes, and your tongue is met with a wad of his saliva. He coos in approval as you swallow on command.

"See? You can be my good girl. You know what to do."

His words were slurring together, and he knew he was losing it. His dick was throbbing with anticipation and he wasn't sure how long he'd last before the lights blew out in the room. You might not have realized, but the bed frame had already cracked, and the lights flickered in and out. He was also sure he heard more streetlights pop from outside.

"Fuck me, please."

Your voice is whiny as you rock your hips into the air, bringing the white-haired man out of his own thoughts. He pretends to consider it as if his tip isn't crying in agony with pre-cum desperate to feel your tight velvety walls clamp down around him.

"Hm.. you don't seem like you really want it. Beg."

You normally hate to ask Gojo for anything more than once. It hurts your pride, actually. Why should you have to ask when he should just give? You were the prize after all. However, today you know better; you don't know if he'd just leave you like this if you made him mad again. You needed this— need him. Want him. You're pleading before you realize the words are coming out of your mouth. Begging for him to put his dick in you and fuck you until all you can do is spasm from the weight of your orgasm— to rearrange your guts until you feel him in your stomach. To fuck you, like you know only he can.

Satoru's ears burn from your lewd vocabulary but he loves every minute of it. He loves how your tears soak your cheeks, how choked sobs escape your mouth, how you're rutting into nothing but air— he loves it all.

This is why he likes you being mean and a bitch. It gives him the opportunity to treat you like a stress toy— toy that he loves to fuck. Anytime you go too far or work his nerves just right, he can split you open like he is right now. Lifting your legs up, folding you into the meanest mating press, and pushing into you with no resistance from how soaked you are. Not stopping until he feels his tip kissing your cervix, with the lewd wet noise coming from where you two are connected intimately.

And maybe somewhere... deep. deep. deep. down he really fucking likes seeing you angry and yelling at him because mean women just turns him on. He has always liked a challenge. Why would he want a girl who never challenged him? Someone that agreed with everything he said and did; at that point he might as well date a fucking fan. Easy is boring. Nothing about Satoru is easy, so why would his relationships be? You excited him; which was damn near impossible considering he could see everything and anything all at once, all the time.

He liked the way you'd claw deep scratches into his back when he'd fuck you like this. How you'd cry about how deep he was. How no one ever made you feel this good. How you'd be a good girl from now on (he knows thats a lie). He loved you. Everything about you. Another reason he had been so mad today was not just because the higher-ups said something about the Yuji situation; they had tried to threaten him with the mere mention of something happening to you if he brought up Yuji's execution again. He would have killed everyone in the room with no regard for what happens next if not for Yaga shutting the conversation down by defending you. It only barely saved them. Barely.

"—Cum?"

You were babbling gibberish as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace with his own moans tumbling from his lip. He hid his face into the crook of your neck, lapping at the skin before biting down. It sent you over the edge immediately, and Satoru followed shortly after.

He collapsed on top of you, panting like he had just run a marathon with no prep. His ears rang slightly as he rolled off you and let his eyes readjust to the room. He let out a cackle looking at his surroundings. The headboard was split in half. Lights completely blown out. Yeah he was real pent up.

Satoru rolled over to crack a joke to make you laugh; moments after sex were when you were the nicest. You got to be super soft, and you two were just two people dating. You weren't just dating the strongest, but the real Satoru. His gaze softened as he realized you were already knocked out. He opted to clean you up and teleport you both to your place. It was more comfortable there anyways. He nestled under the covers with your unconscious body and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, pulling you tightly into his embrace.

So yeah, maybe you were bitchy but he wouldn't have you any other way. After all, you're the only one who can handle him.

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